Hey guys! I'm back with an update, and let me tell you-this one is gooood! I'm excited to really get Adriana back in the picture, and I hope you are too!
Chapter Thirty-Six
Adriana
Run. Run. Run.
Don't stop.
Run and don't stop.
Instinct took over, and I ran. I ran up the stairs. I ran outside and darted between fighting men and women. Blood was everywhere and bullets flew through the air. I only saw straight ahead and didn't slow down once. I didn't run for the immediate jungle, but took off across the dry, hard-packed ground towards the distant jungle on the horizon, maybe a mile away. I ran as fast as possible and was at the tree line in minutes. My pace was slowed for only a moment as I hit the solid wall of foliage before I found a winding game trail. I blazed down it for what seemed like seconds, but must've been thirty or forty minutes, before my adrenaline began to ebb away. As I began feel exhaustion overtake my body, I slowed to a brisk walk. As my heart rate decreased, so did the pace of my walk until I was meandering down the barely visible trail at a snail's pace, my legs wobbly. Giving into exhaustion, I slumped down on a rotting log and listened to the sound of my deep breaths.
I'm free. The words filled my head involuntarily, sending goose bumps across my arms.
"I'm free." I said aloud, echoing my thoughts. As if in confirmation, the delighted squawk of a small creature in a tree rebounded through the air. Smiling, I let out a laugh of delight. In reality, the sound of my laugh was dry and pathetic, but to my ears it was rich and resplendent with joy. I stood after a few more minutes of silence.
"Now that I'm free, I've got to get home. Now, I don't know what direction I was running, but I'm sure that if I follow this trail it'll lead to water and then…" I spoke my thoughts aloud as I walked, devising an incomplete strategy that grew in complexity until it was too dark to see and I had to stop for the night. I curled up against a large fallen tree in a small depression of damp leaves and pulled my arms inside my dirty red blouse. The sweet release of tension in my back and feet released me into a jumbled, jolting dreamland of jagged, twisting orange, yellow and white shapes that circled me restlessly.
The morning symphony of wildlife stirred me from sleep. Slowly, gingerly, sitting up, I yawned silently and stood. I arched my back, feeling the luxurious sensation of awakening from a restful sleep. I rubbed my eyes unconsciously and was reminded of how any lingering traces of mascara had rubbed away long ago. It was a trivial thing to think about, but it further reminded me of how my life had changed so drastically. The thick cover of trees made the post-dawn light weaker at the forest floor, suspending everything in a cool, twilight-lit world. The first thing I noticed was a burning need for sustenance. My tongue felt like a thick slab of sandpaper in my mouth and my throat was so dry my breathing created a faint whistle in the back of my throat. As if on cue, my stomach growled angrily, reminding me I hadn't ate in days. Granted, the Sixers hadn't ever given us much, but even the bits of overripe fruit seemed appetizing as I listened to my hollow stomach growl in protest. We were only fed if there was something nobody wanted, and it had been two full days since I'd had anything to eat. Today was day three, and I knew that if I didn't find food soon, things would get much, much worse.
I followed the same game trail as the day before at a brisk walk. I was weak and malnourished and I knew saving my energy was essential. Thankfully, the air was full of moisture, and while it had no impact on my thirst, it was cool and invigorating on my face.
When the scent of water hit my nose, I unconsciously picked up my pace. Around a short bend, the game trail stopped on one side of a small, rocky streambed two feet wide, and picked up on the other side. The water was hardly more than a trickle, but by removing a rock the size of my fist, I created a hole in the streambed that began to collect cool, cloudy water. I waited a couple minutes for the sediment to settle before cupping the water in my hands. The sensation of cold water running down my dry, whistling throat was indescribable; I almost cried with relief. I sat by the stream for over half an hour, letting the pool slowly fill up each time before drinking the water. I considered trying to clean my long, dirty mat of hair, but dismissed the notion almost immediately; it would've taken too long and would've done nothing more than contaminate the stream. When my hollow stomach was filled to the limit with water, I reluctantly replaced the stone and continued on my way home.
Crouching behind the thick fronds of a fern, I observed the small blue and grey building before me. It stood in the middle of a wide clearing full of sunlight and dry grass, with a metal cage around the door. A narrow dirt road led off in a general northwesterly direction, though it appeared to be rarely utilized. Most of the windows were frosted-over glass behind metal cages, but one facing my hiding place in the trees had clear glass. I'd come upon the building by accident and, not knowing who or what could be in it, decided to observe it for a while. From its outward appearance, there was no sign it was inhabited. I knew, however, not to judge a book by its cover, and was determined to get inside.
My heart racing, I bolted across the clearing and dove into the bushes beneath the clear window. I waited silently for a few minutes before daring to move, and even then, very slowly. I rose to my full height and cautiously looked in between the bars of the window
A small metal cot with a dark blue blanket and white pillow sat against the wall in the left corner against the wall the window was on. A wooden desk, covered with papers and drawings, was on the right wall. Two wooden armoires stood on either side of the doorway. A small hamper was tucked in the right corner opposite of the head of the bed. With white walls and wood flooring, the room seemed serious and unfriendly, yet little details -the disarray of the desk, a light green shirt hanging out of the hamper, wrinkles in the blue blanket on the bed- made the room feel comfortable and lived-in. I felt exposed standing against the wall, my skin itching as though I were being observed. I knew I was alone, but my nerves got the better of me and I dove back into the bushes after a few more seconds.
I waited a few more minutes in the bushes to make sure I was alone before edging along the side of the building to the big cage surrounding the door. A button and speaker were attached to a pole in the fence. My heart racing, I stepped forward and held down the button.
"Hello?" I called, releasing the button.
"Who's there? Who are you?" the sound of a surprised woman's voice split through the air after what seemed like an eternity.
"I need help. I was a prisoner and I escaped. I've been running since yesterday." I replied.
"Who are you?" the woman replied.
"Adriana Prevot, m'am. I haven't seen any of my family or friends in a really long time." I explained. There was a jarring buzz, and then the lock on the cage door clicked. I pulled the door open and slipped inside. The door swung shut behind me and an almost inaudible click told me I was locked in. No turning back now.
The door to the building, pushed a few feet back into an overhanging ledge in the building, swung open and a thin woman with light hair stepped out. A look of disgust flashed across her face for an instant before she placed her fingers on my shoulders and guided me inside through the door. It closed behind us, and for a few seconds we were enveloped in darkness as she led me down a short hallway that ended in a door with a glass window. She opened the door and led me into the main room.
The room was square with brown walls and sand-colored stone flooring. It was cool inside and well lit. The right wall was occupied by a long table with a variety of samples, experiments, and tools spread across its length. A large, circular desk filled the middle of the room. It was open on one side and had enough space for a couple rolling chairs. There were short shelves going around the desk, reminding me of the front desk in the waiting room of a doctor's office. A computer sat on the desk, where the woman had evidently been at work doing something before I'd made my presence known. On the north wall, there was a closed door, which I assumed led to the room I'd seen earlier, as well as a small table and two chairs beside a miniature kitchen area. On the eastern wall was a slightly ajar door that opened into a small blue bathroom, as well as another closed door. Tucked in one corner of the room was a multi-leveled, carpeted structure with sisal-wrapped columns and two ramps the led to higher levels. A pile of black fuzz was tucked away in the corner of the uppermost platform.
While I took in my surroundings, the woman sat me down at the table and quickly set to work on heating a kettle of water. I waited silently while she worked and gratefully accepted the warm mug when she handed it to me. Bringing the mug to my lips, I sipped slowly at the warm, seasoned tea before looking at her. She was older, with delicate-looking skin and a slightly wrinkled face. Her hair was a light, mousy brown and was streaked with white. Despite the signs of age, she was quite pretty.
"Thank you." I told her, managing a smile despite my pounding heart. She smiled back, revealing perfectly straight teeth.
"You're welcome, dear." She replied, her voice soft and gentle, like she was talking to a frightened child. We sat in silence for a while longer, sipping our tea.
"What is this place?" I finally asked, curiosity winning over. She smiled.
"Outpost two." She explained without saying more.
"Who are you?" I inquired, meeting the woman's light blue eyes.
"Doctor Margret St. Marin, lead field researcher. You can call me Margret." She said proudly, her eyes shining. The way she pronounced her last name gave me the impression she grew up in France and I had to stop myself from switching to French.
"Are you alone?" I asked, glancing around the room. I noted two small bowls tucked against one side of the little refrigerator, one filled with water and the other empty.
"There aren't any other people here with me, if that's what you mean." She replied, turning her head to look at the multi-leveled tower in the corner. To my surprise, a small fur-covered creature climbed down off the top platform and jumped from level to level before trotting across the floor to where we sat at the table. It jumped into Margret's lap without a second thought and began to emit a low, rumbling sound as she stroked it.
"Is that-?" I began.
"A cat? Yes, she is a cat." Margret replied, scratching the cat under its chin.
"Does it…she…have a name?"
"Shadow. She's three years old." Margret answered, smiling as she ran her fingers over Shadow's ears. Without warning, Shadow hopped onto the table and sauntered over to me and let out a hopeful burst of sound. What's word for those noises she keeps making?
"She's talking to you!" Margret said, smiling.
"What d'you mean, talking?" I asked, confused. Margret shrugged.
"Well, meowing." Meowing. She meowed at me. I stored the word in my head for future reference.
"Can I…?" I tried to articulate, but couldn't find words.
"You can pet her," Margret said, smiling. Hesitantly, I reached out and touched my hand to Shadow's back and let it glide along her flank. Her fur was silky and smooth, softer than Gracie's, and didn't smell strongly of animal. She made a sound of pleasure and rubbed her jaw on my hand. I began to scratch her chin as Margret had and could feel a smile spreading across my face.
"She's so soft," I commented quietly.
"She really seems to like you. Do you hear how loud she's purring?" Margret asked. Purring.
"Is she the only cat in existence?" I asked.
"Here, at least." Margret replied, and then shrugged. "I don't know about the future, though. There might be some left, but my guess is as good as yours."
"How did she come to exist?" I asked.
"She came through portal as an embryo, and when I was still in the main colony, I raised her in a test tube until she was fully developed." She explained.
"How is the possible?" I asked, amazed that the glorious creature before me was developed in a test tube and survived. Margret shrugged.
"It was a very demanding, complicated process. I doubt you want to hear about it. Instead, tell me about what's happened to your over the past few months." She replied.
"It's been months?!" I reeled with shock. Margret nodded.
"Today's April fourteenth. You've been missing for over three months, Adriana."
For the next hour, I sat at the table with Shadow curled up in my lap as I recounted my story, starting at the night of the kidnapping. When I told her of Tyler, and the evil way he violated me and how he was the son of one of Taylor's most trusted men, I could see goose bumps raising on her arms. She listened avidly as I told her of mine and Maddy's plans to escape, and by the time I got the point in my story where I'd made my escape from the compound, she was sitting on the edge of her seat, leaning forward. She hung on every word I said. When I finished, she sat back in her chair and let out a long, low whistle.
"You're a lot braver than you give yourself credit, Adriana." She told me, grinning.
"Am I?" I asked, a little surprised. "I've never considered myself more than a scared teenage girl."
"I don't know of any other sixteen-year-old girl who has the nerve to blast down a door in an enemy compound after being half-starved and raped. You were probably scared witless, but you still did what you did." She elaborated. I smiled.
"Thank you. I've never thought I was brave."
"Bravery isn't based on the amount of scary things you do; it's based on you being scared and still pushing forward through your terror to do the right thing." Margret replied, flashing a smile.
"I just wanted to do the right thing." I told her. Shadow let out a chirp and pawed at my hand as I momentarily stopped petting her. I scratched her back and, satisfied that she hadn't been forgotten, Shadow resumed purring, her pale green eyes sliding shut in contentment.
"Which is why I let you in. I'm not much of a people person, but I knew that to turn away someone who looks like they haven't had a good meal in months would've been a bad decision." Margret replied.
"If I had been someone healthy, you wouldn't have let me in?" I asked, chilled by her words. She shrugged.
"I don't know, honestly. Don't worry about it, though, okay? Like everyone else, I'm human and I have my little idiosyncrasies that I adhere to. Right now, though, the thing to do would be for you clean up. There's a shower in the bathroom, and I'll find some clean clothes you can wear. I'll leave them outside the bathroom." Margret replied, smiling. She stood and took our empty tea mugs to the sink. I picked up Shadow and held her as I stood.
"Thank you." I said, blinking gratefully to Margret.
"You're welcome. Take as long as you need; I imagine it'll take a little work to get yourself clean." I bade her goodbye and placed Shadow on the floor before crossing the room to the bathroom.
I was struck by the bathroom's opulence. A large, frosted window let in an abundance of light. The shower was large and had glass doors. The floors and walls were outfitted in shiny blue tiles, and the toilet was the same bright, clean white color of the porcelain sink. There was a large, gilded mirror mounted above the sink, and I was slow to approach it. I didn't want to see what imprisonment had done to my body, but curiosity won over. I moved in front of the mirror with my head down. I released a deep breath and looked up, unintentionally sucking in a deep breath of shock.
The hair near my scalp was plastered against my head by layer upon layer of dried mud, while the rest hung limply at my waist in stringy clusters. My eyebrows were dark from an accumulation of sweat and grime. A sheen of oil covered my face, the flat planes of my face on either side of my nostrils seemed especially greasy. A fine layer of dust and dirt coated every uncovered inch of my skin, making me appear tan, though I could see the sickly paleness of my skin radiating underneath. I'd lost my earrings and I could see that the holes had begun to close. As I turned my head from side to side, the light hit my eyelashes just right and I noted how lengthy and blonde they had become. I let my jeans slide over my legs and pulled my stiff blouse over my head. The hair on my legs was long and blonde. My whole body was significantly slimmer, and I could see my collarbone beneath the mud on my chest. My bra was stained with sweat and oil. I slipped off my too-big underwear and bra and left them in a heap with the shirt and jeans.
I found coconut-scented shampoo and conditioner below the sink, as well as a wide-toothed comb, and walked into the shower. I turned on the water and let out a soft cry of happiness as the warm water hit my skin. I spent a long time working the comb through my hair, removing most of the mud and grime before adding a generous amount of shampoo. I let it sit in my hair while I worked at scrubbing grime off my body. I rinsed out the shampoo and repeated the process with conditioner. When I was done, I went back for a second round of shampoo and conditioner, and then a third, before I felt clean.
Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and dried off with a blue towel. Opening the door a crack, I picked up the neat little pile of clothing and shut myself in the steamy room again. Margret had found for me a light blue button-up shirt, khaki-colored shorts and a set of white underclothes. I dressed in them and reveled at the clean, crispness of the fabric. They fit well enough, if not a little large. I opened the window to help let out the steam and went back to the mirror, taking in my appearance. My damp hair passed my shoulder blades and was as long as it had been before I'd cut it on my birthday. My skin seemed rejuvenated and glowed under the white lights of the bathroom. My face was narrow, but I was relived that my eyes didn't appear sunken and overly-large. It was a relief to see that apart from being thin and a little malnourished, I wasn't too sickly in appearance. As I exited the bathroom, Margret waved me over to the wall the experiment table was set up along.
"I want to weigh you. I figured it'd be more accurate once you had all the mud and whatnot off your body, but I forgot that your hair would be wet. What did you weigh the last time you checked?" She asked. I shrugged.
"Maybe one-seventy. I believe the last time I weighed myself was right after Christmas." I told her.
"Probably gained a little after a Christmas feast, eh?" she replied, elbowing me. I couldn't help but smile; despite being at least forty years older than I was, she could make a decent joke.
"Probably," I replied, shrugging.
"Do you remember if your hair was wet or dry when you weighed in?"
"It probably would've been wet, since I usually weigh myself right after getting out of the shower." I told her.
"Wonderful. Step up on the scale, then. We'll take this measurement as true. We'll just have to remember to only weigh you when your hair is wet for the most accurate results." Margret replied, motioning to a square white scale she'd pulled out from under the experiment table. I stepped up and looked straight ahead, waiting silently while Margret watched the scale. She let out a long, low whistle after a few seconds.
"One-seventeen." Margret said slowly, writing the number down in a small notebook full of her curly handwriting. "You lost…" she trailed off as she did the mental math.
"I lost fifty-three pounds in three months." I said in the short span of silence.
"Exactly. We'll get you on a daily weigh-in schedule. Every morning after showering, come weigh in and record it. It'll be interesting to see how your body begins to heal itself from the hell it's been through."
"I worked for a private company in Los Angeles that dealt with mentally unstable public figures. At the time, I was a psychiatrist by profession and it was my job to assess their mental capabilities and serve as counselor to them as they went through an eight-week treatment program. I've seen countless household names make complete one-eighties in terms of behavior and mental state. Politicians, movie stars, athletes, CEOs- you name someone, and chances are, I've worked with them." Margret explained as she cooked dinner. I sat at the table drawing as we conversed, though I'd become so intent on my work that it had quickly become a one-sided conversation. Margret had handed me a bundle of color pencils, a sheet of paper and told me to draw my feelings. When I'd asked for more specific instructions, she smiled and wished me luck.
A palette of colors ranging from fiery reds and oranges to cool blues and purples mingled across the page in a messy symphony. There were hard lines that cut small, uneven zigzag patterns across the page in varying intensities of red, and smudged, softer yellow ones that wisped about like a cheerful breeze. Curls of green snaked around the borders, enclosing everything else inside. A yellow and dark blue box with a triangle attached to the top formed itself near the top of the page. Dark stick figures danced across the paper with ease; couples both young and old, as well as eight small figures hand in hand, each topped with a plume of yellow, brown, or orange. A black and white circle encased in a red heart. Plumes of orange and yellow mixed as though in an embrace. Curls of yellow and wisps of flowing dark brown flowed together into a small brown bundle of wavy lines. Pairs of eyes, whether chocolate brown or blue-grey-green, formed. A grey triangle formed itself in the center of the page. Inside, three colored-in circles: blue, red, and pale purple.
A clear splatter landed over the triangle, soaking into the paper. It took me a few seconds to realize the drop had come from me, and when I touched my cheek, it was slick with tears. I looked up and found Margret had been watching me with her arms crossed, a wooden spoon in her hand. There was a concerned look about her face, but she made no move to comfort me. I smiled weakly and tried to continue drawing, but Margret's unwavering gaze burned into me.
"Sorry," I apologized, looking up at her. She smiled softly.
"You're fine. I turned around to see why you'd stopped talking and saw that you were getting really into your drawing, but I didn't want to disturb you." she replied. I glanced back down at my paper.
"I'm done with this," I told her, holding the paper up. She moved a pot of noodles off the stove onto a pot holder and clicked off the heat. Smiling, she took the paper from me and placed it on the desk in the middle of the room beside the computer.
"I'll look at that later and take some notes." She explained as she sat a plate of food in front of me. She retrieved her own food and then brought over two drinks. She placed one cup, full of thick, mint-green liquid I recognized as a nutrient shake, in front of me and sat down. The intensity of my starvation finally revealed itself, and I was overcome by a primal desire to eat. I stabbed at the food with a fork and shoveled as much into my mouth as I could. I was so hungry. I demolished the plate in minutes, while Margret sat eating delicate little morsels of food. The food was delicious and rich, and I licked the plate clean before stalking back over to the counter to pile my plate with a second helping of noodles and vegetables. I sat down and ate again, though not as ravenously as before. I polished off the second plate and went back for a third, and then a fourth, before my hunger was completely sated. I rinsed the plate in the sink and left it before lying on the floor to pet Shadow, who had stretched out across the cool stone floor. Stretched out from tail to nose, the black cat was about the length of my arm as I repeatedly passed my hand over her soft, silky black fur. She purred with contentment, and in response, I began to talk to her, cooing and talking to her like she was a small child. Margret was doing something somewhere, but I was lost in the calming motion of stroking Shadow. My eyelids grew heavy. All the stress of my life, everything that had happened in the last months, melted away into oblivion as I steadily became groggy. Without realizing it, I slipped into peaceful sleep, Shadow's purring image leading me through a cloud-filled wonderland.
When I woke, I was lying in a small cot, wrapped in a dark blue blanket. There was a warm spot between my feet where Shadow lay asleep. My hair was tangled and I wore the same clothing as the night before. I sat up and glanced around the room. It was small with blue walls and a wood floor. It was empty of furniture other than a stiff-looking chair and an armoire. One of the doors to the armoire was slightly ajar, and from my place in bed, I could see blue and green button-down shirts had been neatly hung for me. I smiled and slowly pulled my legs out from under the blanket and swung them over the bed. I froze in place for a second as I stood, expecting the ritual stabs of pain through my brain, but was pleasantly surprised to find that my head wasn't pounding. All that food.
Smiling, I approached the armoire and swung open both doors. There were five or six shirts in total, all with the same style of three-quarter-length sleeves. I pulled the drawer on the bottom of the armoire open and found it stocked with shorts, pants, and undergarments. My smile grew even larger as I slipped on a light green shirt and khaki-colored shorts. After all the food I'd had the night before, I expected I'd gained weight, and Margret must've anticipated that as well, because the clothes were much larger than I needed and fit loosely. I was thankful for the belt I found in the drawer with the shorts and pants.
I sat beside the cot for a while and stroked Shadow, letting the comfort it brought wash over me like a warm shower. Shadow purred contently, and I could faintly sense that I was humming in time with her purring. The feeling of calm that Shadow brought over me was therapeutic; it helped me forget all my problems and pains and filled me with an unbreakable calm.
"Morning," Margret greeted me as I left my room. She was chopping a small cooked fish filet into small slices.
"Good morning. Thanks for the clothes." I replied, smiling.
"Experiments can get kind of messy sometimes, so scientists who stay at outposts get plenty of extra clothing." She explained. "It just seemed like plain ole' logic to give you new clothes after having to wear the same stuff for three months."
"I appreciate it. I used to stress over what I wore like every other teenage girl, but now, I'm just happy to have clean clothes." I told her.
"Of course…ah, there you are, you lazy little lump!" Margret's attention shifted behind me to Shadow, who was moseying across the room from her place on my bed. She went to Margret first and rubbed against her legs in greeting before coming to me with expectant look on her face. Smiling, I bent down and scratched her under the chin.
"She was sleeping at my feet when I woke up." I told Margret, who smiled.
"I know; she followed me when I picked you up off the floor and put you in bed last night." She replied, picking up one of the small bowls from its place on beside the refrigerator. She used a fork to push the chopped fish into the bowl and placed it on the floor. Shadow ran to the bowl and hunched over, the sounds of smacking lips audible. I laughed at the little black cat's zeal for food.
"You'd think that for a cat that likes food so much, she'd be a little rounder." I mused.
"The cats whose DNA came together to make Shadow were both quite small, but even genetics will only go so far." Margret replied. "All the pigging out will catch up to her someday." She added with a brief smile as she watched the cat eat.
"Speaking of food, what can I have for breakfast?" I asked, glancing hopefully at the refrigerator.
"You've got to shower and weigh in before you eat." She insisted. I feigned a grown of annoyance. Margret laughed at my dramatics.
"Fine, I'll starve for another half hour." I said, trying to conceal a smile.
"Go on, then. You starved for three months, so you can starve for another thirty minutes." She replied, waving me off.
"Do you have shaving razors or anything like that? I feel like I'm covered in fur."
"There's a couple unused ones under the sink in the bathroom." Margret replied.
"Okay," I replied, heading to the bathroom.
"Oh! When you're done eating, I want you to come record a video for me. I notified the colony of your appearance here and told them I'd send an update today." Margret called just as I was about to shut the door.
"Didn't you tell them I'm okay?" I asked.
"Yes, but I want you to tell them that. Seeing you alive and well will calm their nerves significantly." She explained.
"What about…"I trailed off, the words a jumble in my mind.
"Maddy Shannon? She's home safe. She was rescued from the Sixers' compound the same day you broke out." Margret finished my thought. A wave of relief flooded over me.
"Who saved her?" I asked. Margret shook her head.
"I didn't recognize the name. Does the name 'Henry Rost' ring a bell?" At the sound of his name, my heart skipped a beat.
Henry.
I am SO pumped to be getting to this stage in the story! Things are finally beginning to come together, and Adriana's time with the Sixers is FINALLY over. I hope you guys are enjoying it!
Why don't ya leave a review? C'mon, ya know ya want to!