Chapter 6: Monkey

Jess's POV

This sucks.

I absolutely HATE being locked up like a monkey in the zoo. That's exactly what I am, their little monkey. At least, that's what they want me to be. They want me to help them find this Russian dude or something like that. Hey, I'm not exactly an accent expert. All I know is that it is some kind of weird European one. Anyway, I tried telling them that I don't have my power anymore. Needless to say, it didn't exactly work. I can't believe that they have the gall not to believe the blatant lies I'm feeding them. What the heck is up with that? So, I guess that until I end up doing what they say, I am still going to be treated like their monkey.

Not that they've actually fed my any bananas, at least not yet anyway. I've gotten an apple and a couple of oranges, but no banana. I suppose this is a good thing. I mean that they're feeding me. At least they are not trying to starve me into submission. I think that they think that I will cooperate if they can get me to think that they don't mean me any harm. Well, if they really want to know what I think, I think that anyone who knocks a girl out, drags them into a cell in the middle of God knows where, and tries to get her to help them find one of their pretty nasty looking buddies is definitely not someone I want to be associated with. Not like I really have a choice.

Strangely, one of the thoughts that keeps popping into my head at a time like this is that if my kidnappers don't kill me, I eventually end up dead. Let's go over the people who will probably kill me if I ever get out of here:

Ruth. I yelled at her, walked out on her (which I do feel bad about, by the way), and then disappeared. Yep, she'll probably kill me.

Rob. He told me to call and I didn't, I managed to get myself in a load of trouble…again. I'm a goner.

My Dad. I was supposed to work at Joe's this weekend. Sorry Dad.

My Mom. Do I really need to say any more? I walked out of school and got myself kidnapped. Come to think of it, Doug might not be taking this very well and God knows that will be all my fault as well, as if I wanted to be stuck here when I could be hanging out with my new boyfriend, hanging out with Ruth, or I don't know, there are a lot of things I can think of that I'd rather be doing. Giving Karen Sue Hankey flute lessons comes to mind. Yeah, it's that bad.

So here I sit, waiting for some European dude to come in and tell me what to do next. I am so bored right now I can barely stand it. Maybe that's their tactic. Bore me out of my mind so I go mad and start shouting out all of my secrets for them to know. Not that I have many secrets to begin with, but that's not to say that there are things in my private life that I might not want these guys to know about. Like the fact that I really do know where that scary-looking guy they want me to find is. Not that I'm going to let them know that, especially since his location happens to entail what I'm taking to be a top-secret government facility. I'm kind of assuming he is being held prisoner for doing something either dangerous or illegal. I'd wager on both…

"WHAT THE HECK!!!!!"

A furious shout from the other room shook me out of my thoughts, although they didn't say "heck" if you know what I mean.

This commotion naturally caught my interest and I got up from my position of sitting on the floor leaning against the grimy wall of the cell I was being kept in. These shouts were accompanied by a couple bangs, grunts, and choice words both in English and some I assumed were not so nice Russian-or-whatever-they-are versions of them. This went on for about three minutes before there was one, very large thud, and then nothing else until…

"Get off your lazy butt and help me move her already!"

That wasn't a good sign. The accent-guy had clearly won whatever battle had taken place in there a second ago, and now he wanted help from his friends to move a body. Not a good sign at all.

There came a shuffling of feet and then the sound of a key in the doorknob. There were bringing the body in here! By now I had already decided that they had killed whoever it was. Just great, now I had to share my monkey cell with a dead body. I had never actually been with a dead body for any kind of period of time before and I sure didn't want to change that now. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the stench I knew was going to come from watching all of those C.S.I. shows.

"Here you go, now you will have a little companion. Have fun you two," came a heavily accented voice. There was a thud, the sound of a door closing and a key turning, then a soft moan.

Wait, a moan? That meant…

"Who the heck are you?"

Only I didn't say heck. Sure, maybe it would have been more polite for me to wait until she completely woke up before I started interrogating her. Or maybe there was a more polite way to word my question, but after you've been in a cramped, dingy cell as long as I have, etiquette seem to go right out the window.

My "companion" was about my age, with shoulder-length brown hair. She was attractive looking, but not in that I'm-trying-to-be kind of way. She wore a black long-sleeve shirt, dark jeans, and black combat boots. Not exactly a fashion statement, but hey, who am I to judge? Her slowly opening eyes were a brilliant emerald-green color, and she also seemed to be about my age.

"Who are you?" she asked me as soon as she became fully conscious.

Technically I had asked first, but I decided to play along for now.

"Jessica Mastriani, but everyone calls me Jess. Who are you?"

She paused for a minute before answering.

"Parker, Parker Jennings."