I methodically straighten my hair while Elle and Saya giggle about something some girl in one of our many classes did that's apparently hilarious. I squint in the mirror, eyeing a slightly wavy lock of hair with blatant distaste; apparently, Not Cassia likes her hair straightened every morning, a quality which Not Cassia's journal complained about as "uber time consuming".
"And then she- she dropped it!" Saya finishes, the twosome bursting into extremely loud laughter. "Isn't that just the funniest thing, Cassia?" Saya giggles, putting a hand over her mouth in a most ladylike manner. "Absofreakinlutely!" I chuckle enthusiastically.
Honestly, Not Cassia isn't much different from me; same golden blond hair that falls to mid-back when board straight, same blue-green eyes with swirls of gold, same not-so-great height of 5'1", same bra size. My eyebrows are thicker and a few shades darker, making me look like a Brooke Shields wannabe. Also, my skin is less of an athletic tan and more of a golden beach goddess tan. Nothing to incredibly different.
God, life has become way too freakin' serious.
I need to get out of this crappy rich kid school and get back to being a superstar at zombie killing and being impossibly dumb.
*POINT OF VIEW CHANGE ALERT*
"Where are we?" Minnie asks, gazing out the window of the small plane Dr. Blake- call me Sally!- stole- er, commandeered- from St. Magdalena's. A squat, tan building surrounded by a chain link fence is not far from the runway Dr. Blake landed the plane on. "You want to get Cassia and the others, don't you?" Minnie nods in unison with Carlos; Alec is still unconscious, arms wrapped around Chow. "Well, then we'll need some help, won't we? We'd be a bit obvious if we just ran in, guns blazing."
Dr. Blake powers down the plane- or something. Minnie isn't exactly sure what she's doing; a bunch of flipping switches and pressing buttons occurs. "Okay. So. We have to go inside." Dr. Blake looks at the building, but she doesn't seem too enthusiastic about the prospect of going inside.
"Who are we going to see?" Minnie asks as Carlos bends over to undo her harness. "Oh, well. Someone who can help, but who may not be very excited to see us." From Minnie's close observation, Dr. Blake tends to be scatter-brained and silly, but at the moment she seems quite uneasy. "C'mon, kids; time to make a deal with the devil."
After Alec is roused from his nap, they start across the expanse of pavement that separates where they landed from the building. "This is a laboratory, very secret, very high-tech, very governmentally based. When the plague, or virus or whatever you want to call it, began, I was working in this facility, looking for a way to cure those infected. Sadly, that has become an impossibility." Minnie spots two massive security guards sporting expensive looking guns she'd only ever seen on the army's commercials. Not exactly a pleasant sight.
"Of course, now, the goal is to find a vaccine or some biological way to prevent further infection. I won't bore you with the specifics. We aren't hear for a cure or a vaccine or anything having to do with the disease; we're looking for a person." Dr. Blake tightens her high pony, fingers gliding through the locks of molten gold. "This person is... very familiar with Cassia, and one of her many specialities is being sneaky and devious. Breaking into some rich kids' boarding school will be a piece of cake for her." Dr. Blake cuts off with the explanation, allowing the group to lapse into an anxious silence.
"Dr. Blake?" One of the security guards says in shock when the group is close enough. "What brings you back to the compound?"
"Oh, you know, called in by the superiors. I picked up a few survivors on my way here. Think they could get some new clothes and food while I meet with the bosses?" Dr. Blake asks casually. She pulls a laminated ID card out of the white lab coat she always wears. "'Course. Not infected I assume?" The other security guard chimes in, eyeing Carlos's bloody nose with suspicion. "Nope, no one's infected. They just got jumped by some other survivors." She hands the guard her badge, he examines it for a moment before handing it back, and they're all hustled inside.
"Alright, guys; Terese," Dr. Blake points at an attractive brunette lounging behind a glass desk. "will get you some grub and new clothes. Maybe you can even catch a shower. I'm gonna go meet with someone; see you in a bit."
Chow is taken to be washed by a grudging employee with thick glasses while Alec, Carlos, and Minnie are dragged to a room that greatly resembles a hospital room. "Here ya go; the bathroom's in there. We'll bring ya some food soon. Just get a little R&R, okay?" Terese has a soft, lilting accent that Minnie can't place; something European maybe. She places a stack of clothing on the hospital bed before exiting the room. Minnie listens to the loud click-clack of her heels retreating down the hallway, presumably to find some food.
"Hey, Minnie. You want a shower?" Carlos inquires. Carlos had pretty much become her caretaker since the girls disappeared; he made sure she was okay and helped her with stuff she couldn't do. "Okay." Carlos disappears into the tiny bathroom and the sound of a shower being turned on wafts from the room. Alec wordlessly sorts through the pile of clothes until he found the small clothing that was obviously meant for Minnie. He hands off the clothing to Carlos, who sets them on the counter in the bathroom. "Turn around and let me see your head." Carlos scrutinizes the bloody mess of hair on the back of her head where Alec hit her; the bleeding stopped a while back, but she still didn't feel 100%. "Not too bad; just be gentle. Yell if you need anything." Then he nudges her in the bathroom and shuts the door.
Minnie stares at the water spurting from the shower head, slowly undressing herself. Bruises and scrapes cover her body; there's a particularly nasty bruise on her left hip. She's grown a bit in the months since the "plague" started. She's at least four inches taller. Her clothes are ripped and dirty and smell like blood and death and mud. The only salvageable item is the white Skechers she got back at St. Magdalena's.
After a quick shower with lots of gentle scrubbing to avoid stabbing pain, Minnie gingerly pulls a comb through her knotted hair. Eventually, her bright red hair falls in smooth waves. The blood from her head wound is officially gone, working its way through the sewer system by then.
Contrary to Cassia's belief that Minnie was six, Minnie had turned ten a few days prior, which was celebrated by her friends while St. Magdalena's was still safe for them. Now, that seems like ancient history. Cassia, Sayaka, Axelle, and Alex are all under some evil person's control; Carlos and Alec can hardly look at her without feeling incredible guilt; Chow is limping from where Carlos or Alec hit him.
Minnie pulls on the fresh underwear- decorated with teddy bears- after drying off with a plain white hospital-issue towel. The outfit Terese provided her is composed of a red plaid flannel shirt, a dark blue tanktop, jeans, and a new pair of short socks. The clothes fit perfectly; Minnie brushes her teeth with an unopened tooth brush and a tube of Crest someone- probably Terese- left on the counter. Gazing in the mirror, Minnie hardly recognizes herself; back at St. Magdalena's, she asked Sayaka to chop off most of her hair. Now, the dark red waves barely reach past her chin. Her lip is split, there's a fresh cut on her cheek, and a monster bruise peeks out from her hair line. The rich child prodigy Miriam Elizabeth Blake is dead and buried; however, Minnie Blake, plague survivor, sole remainder of her family, is alive and kicking.
*POINT OF VIEW CHANGE ALERT*
Dr. Blake sits primly across my desk from me, hands neatly folded, ankles crossed. A few wisps of blond hair frame her heart-shaped face. Her silver-gray eyes watch me closely.
"Hello, Auntie. What is it you want from me now?" I inquire coolly. In my mind though, I'm more like: OH MY GOD WHAT THE HECK WHY IS SHE HERE IS COUSIN CASSIE OKAY OMG OMG WHAT IF SHE'S DEAD THAT WOULD BE SO AWFUL WHY IS SHE HERE UGH! But in reality, I'm totally calm, cool, and collected. I AM A SUPREME GENIUS GODDESS I HAVE NO REASON TO BE INTIMIDATED BY MY AUNT I MEAN SHE'S NOT EVEN THAT SCARY. My aunt, all gold and silver, leans forward, placing her elbows on her knees. OH DEAR LORD IN HEAVEN SHE SCARES THE BEJESUS OUT OF ME. I lean forward as well, placing my elbows on my desk, propping my chin on my steepled hands, narrowing my eyes to meet her intimidating gaze.
"It's about Cassia." HOLY MOTHER OF CHRIST CASSIE REALLY IS DEAD OMG HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN NO WAY COUSIN CAN'T BE DEAD I'M OBVIOUSLY OVERREACTING BUT WHAT IF SHE IS DEAD CRAP NO SHE'S THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS TERRIBLE FAMILY I DON'T HATE!
I casually straighten a pile of papers on my desk. "What about Cassia?" YOU ARE COOL AND LEVELHEADED AND YOU WILL NOT BE INTIMIDATED BY THE EVIL, EVIL WOMAN.
"She's been captured and put in a private school in England where the plague has not yet spread; I believe the person who has done this- possibly the same person who developed the plague- has reprogrammed her, so to speak, to infect the school with a serum form of the plague. Many world officials send their daughters there; the result of an outbreak there would be catastrophic. War would break out, and you know other countries are itching to dump nukes on any country they can in the name of stopping the plague." Dr. Blake replies calmly. Her eyes pierce mine and I know exactly what she's asking. I can feel myself begin to sweat; staring matches with my aunt make me very nervous and uncomfortable.
SUGAR HONEY ICE TEA CRAP MOTHER OF SWEET BABY JESUS and so continues the list of PG rated expletives rolling through my mind.
"So, you're asking me to drop my research, which could save billions of lives, to save your daughter who you let get kidnapped and brainwashed?" I verify, gazing back at my aunt. I quelch the need to fidget; that's a sign of weakness. Auntie is a pro at finding someone's weakness.
I would know.
"Yes, Amaryllis, that's exactly what I'm asking." Dr. Blake watches me through hooded, murky eyes. I AM CALM, I AM CALM, I AM CALM. I CAN DO THIS. I CAN DO THIS. SAY NO. SAY NO. SAY NO. I clear my throat, fully intending to decline, when my eyes settle on the one picture I keep on my desk.
The picture is of me and Cassia when she was six and I was four; her golden curls fall to her waist and her blue-green eyes are laughing. A wide smile sits on her full pink lips, revealing two parentheses dimples, and her arms are wrapped around my shoulders. A smattering of freckles on her nose make her even cuter. She's wearing a pink t-shirt and white shorts with pick and white sneakers on her feet. My head barely reaches her shoulder, even though she's bent over; a shy smile curves my lips. My dark red curls are tangled with hers.
OH WHO AM I KIDDING. I sigh, loudly and with great annoyance.
"Alright, Auntie. I'll help you."