Chapter 11: The Escape
Michel was pacing. He needed to get to Emma; find out why she came to him in his dream. Could he have to deal with much more? He had enough to deal with already, but he didn't mind it when he was with Drea. Now that he was alone, he felt an enormous weight place itself upon his chest. Desperately, he banged against the door, panting and growling. He had to get out.
Jebter sunk Drea out of her room in middle of the day (when most were sleeping). Drea hid behind a corner while Jebter tried to get rid of Michel's guards.
"I want to go talk to him," Jebter told them.
"He's been violent," one guard reported. "Banging on the door all day; growling like an animal."
Drea was shocked. He had such passion for something: to get out.
"Let me out!" Jebter heard Michel shout.
"Michel, it's Jebter."
"Where's Drea?" he demanded.
"Let me in, and we'll talk."
He stopped pounding on the door. Jebter opened it; Michel glared at the guards.
"Maybe it's best if you take a break."
The guards looked reluctant, but saw that Jebter was secretly armed. They left, knowing he could handle himself.
Drea stepped and Jebter saw as relief spread across Michel's face. They embraced in a prolonged hug, Michel afraid that if he let go, he would never see her again.
"We have a lot to talk about," said Jebter, leading them into the room and closing the doors.
"Tell me about this 'dream', Michel," said Drea. Her face was serious, and at first glance it would have appeared she was angry with him, but her hand on his shoulder as he spoke, told differently.
As he described every detail, Drea seemed to lap it in, analyze it in her head, and then send the results back to Michel telepathically. They were linked in their thoughts, and soon Drea and Michel were deep in thought- conversation, leaving Jebter deep in silence. "What are you two doing?" he said as they talked silently back and forth. They snapped out of it.
"We were sharing thoughts," said Drea slowly, slightly awestruck.
"That's not very common," said Jebter.
No kidding, thought Michel.
Well, he's right, thought Drea.
& he didn't think we knew that? Thought Michel.
We need him, so be nice. Besides, he has a good point. Don't forget, he believes you about this dream, which makes him an ally. Thought Drea.
"Pay attention!" said Jebter sternly.
"What do you want us to do?" asked Drea humbly. "We can't do anything. For all I know, the council will condemn me to death tonight. We have no other choice but to run away. Until we find the information we need, the only pressing matter to discuss is: will you help us?" she said it all; point blank. The reality of it bothered Michel.
"Of course I'll help you-"
"You didn't seem too reluctant in catching and locking us up, though," interrupted Michel.
"I did what I thought was best. I thought Drea wasn't herself; but now I see she is," he turned to Drea. "I'm sorry for judging too quickly, but I know Ruchian really got to you. I just didn't want to tread thin grounds."
That's Michel's job, thought Drea.
I thought it was yours, he thought back.
"So what do you want us to do?" repeated Drea.
"Do what you must," he sighed, "but be careful. And please, please don't kill anyone. Take some blood with you."
So it was decided. At sunset, guards that had been guarding Michel and Drea were to be called to Jebter, giving them a chance to escape. A two-week supply of blood, bullets, guns, and clothes was waiting for them in their get-a-way car. All they had to do was escape without being seen by the cameras, guards, and the dogs.
Michel was pacing in front of his door. It was quiet, and the moments passed by so slow, he thought if he walked faster, the time would imitate him. No luck.
"Can I do this?" he said aloud as he paced faster and faster. "Maybe. Oh, I don't know, it doesn't matter. I can do it; I think. Hurry up," he said. He was frustrated, and nervous, e kept pacing faster as more and more adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream "Hurry up," he repeated. "Where area you, Drea!"
The door opened. "Right here," she walked in, "Calm down, I can hear you out in the hall," and closed the door.
He took a deep breath. "So what do we have to do?"
"Get to the stairs, make our way past everyone, and out the door. Or," she looked at him: already breathing hard and sweating. "We could climb out of the window, run, and hope they don't follow us." She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his chest. His heart was rapid. "You have to calm down," she said seriously, "If you don't, we could get caught."
"Well your calm," Michel snarled, breathing yet faster.
She cocked her head to the side. "Good idea. I knew I liked you," and to Michel's surprise, she bit her wrist.
What are you doing? He thought.
Trust me. Only a sip, she thought back.
Shaking his head he drank for a second, then her wound healed. Michel started breathing slower, and his heart rate decreased.
"What happened?" asked Michel; calm finally.
"When blood is shared," she said, "Feelings are shared too. Therefore..."
"You're calm, so now I'm calm," he answered.
Drea gave him thought praise.
They crept out of the room; Drea first, Michel right behind her.
Don't utter a word. She thought. We can communicate this way.
Okay, he thought back.
Slowly, they inched down the hall to the staircase.
We made it this far, he thought, but how do we get past the lounging room?
It was night, and everyone was siting just below them. Crimson filled glasses dotted the view as Michel looked over the banister.
Drea pulled out a throwing star.
I knew I liked you, thought Michel.
She threw it into the kitchen. It hit a window, which shattered. As people got up, she threw another one, and another. The stars attracted everyone's attention, but they were thrown fast enough so no one knew what direction they came from.
There was enough distraction for Drea and Michel to sneak down the stairs, across the room, and out the door without being seen.
There's the car, thought Michel, staring at it.
Now all they had to do was drive away and hope they weren't followed.
They made their last few paces to the car and managed to drive down the driveway; the guards too busy checking out the broken window to notice them.
But as Drea started the car, Teresa stuck her head out of the bushes and placed a tracking device behind the wheel.
Michel was pacing. He needed to get to Emma; find out why she came to him in his dream. Could he have to deal with much more? He had enough to deal with already, but he didn't mind it when he was with Drea. Now that he was alone, he felt an enormous weight place itself upon his chest. Desperately, he banged against the door, panting and growling. He had to get out.
Jebter sunk Drea out of her room in middle of the day (when most were sleeping). Drea hid behind a corner while Jebter tried to get rid of Michel's guards.
"I want to go talk to him," Jebter told them.
"He's been violent," one guard reported. "Banging on the door all day; growling like an animal."
Drea was shocked. He had such passion for something: to get out.
"Let me out!" Jebter heard Michel shout.
"Michel, it's Jebter."
"Where's Drea?" he demanded.
"Let me in, and we'll talk."
He stopped pounding on the door. Jebter opened it; Michel glared at the guards.
"Maybe it's best if you take a break."
The guards looked reluctant, but saw that Jebter was secretly armed. They left, knowing he could handle himself.
Drea stepped and Jebter saw as relief spread across Michel's face. They embraced in a prolonged hug, Michel afraid that if he let go, he would never see her again.
"We have a lot to talk about," said Jebter, leading them into the room and closing the doors.
"Tell me about this 'dream', Michel," said Drea. Her face was serious, and at first glance it would have appeared she was angry with him, but her hand on his shoulder as he spoke, told differently.
As he described every detail, Drea seemed to lap it in, analyze it in her head, and then send the results back to Michel telepathically. They were linked in their thoughts, and soon Drea and Michel were deep in thought- conversation, leaving Jebter deep in silence. "What are you two doing?" he said as they talked silently back and forth. They snapped out of it.
"We were sharing thoughts," said Drea slowly, slightly awestruck.
"That's not very common," said Jebter.
No kidding, thought Michel.
Well, he's right, thought Drea.
& he didn't think we knew that? Thought Michel.
We need him, so be nice. Besides, he has a good point. Don't forget, he believes you about this dream, which makes him an ally. Thought Drea.
"Pay attention!" said Jebter sternly.
"What do you want us to do?" asked Drea humbly. "We can't do anything. For all I know, the council will condemn me to death tonight. We have no other choice but to run away. Until we find the information we need, the only pressing matter to discuss is: will you help us?" she said it all; point blank. The reality of it bothered Michel.
"Of course I'll help you-"
"You didn't seem too reluctant in catching and locking us up, though," interrupted Michel.
"I did what I thought was best. I thought Drea wasn't herself; but now I see she is," he turned to Drea. "I'm sorry for judging too quickly, but I know Ruchian really got to you. I just didn't want to tread thin grounds."
That's Michel's job, thought Drea.
I thought it was yours, he thought back.
"So what do you want us to do?" repeated Drea.
"Do what you must," he sighed, "but be careful. And please, please don't kill anyone. Take some blood with you."
So it was decided. At sunset, guards that had been guarding Michel and Drea were to be called to Jebter, giving them a chance to escape. A two-week supply of blood, bullets, guns, and clothes was waiting for them in their get-a-way car. All they had to do was escape without being seen by the cameras, guards, and the dogs.
Michel was pacing in front of his door. It was quiet, and the moments passed by so slow, he thought if he walked faster, the time would imitate him. No luck.
"Can I do this?" he said aloud as he paced faster and faster. "Maybe. Oh, I don't know, it doesn't matter. I can do it; I think. Hurry up," he said. He was frustrated, and nervous, e kept pacing faster as more and more adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream "Hurry up," he repeated. "Where area you, Drea!"
The door opened. "Right here," she walked in, "Calm down, I can hear you out in the hall," and closed the door.
He took a deep breath. "So what do we have to do?"
"Get to the stairs, make our way past everyone, and out the door. Or," she looked at him: already breathing hard and sweating. "We could climb out of the window, run, and hope they don't follow us." She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his chest. His heart was rapid. "You have to calm down," she said seriously, "If you don't, we could get caught."
"Well your calm," Michel snarled, breathing yet faster.
She cocked her head to the side. "Good idea. I knew I liked you," and to Michel's surprise, she bit her wrist.
What are you doing? He thought.
Trust me. Only a sip, she thought back.
Shaking his head he drank for a second, then her wound healed. Michel started breathing slower, and his heart rate decreased.
"What happened?" asked Michel; calm finally.
"When blood is shared," she said, "Feelings are shared too. Therefore..."
"You're calm, so now I'm calm," he answered.
Drea gave him thought praise.
They crept out of the room; Drea first, Michel right behind her.
Don't utter a word. She thought. We can communicate this way.
Okay, he thought back.
Slowly, they inched down the hall to the staircase.
We made it this far, he thought, but how do we get past the lounging room?
It was night, and everyone was siting just below them. Crimson filled glasses dotted the view as Michel looked over the banister.
Drea pulled out a throwing star.
I knew I liked you, thought Michel.
She threw it into the kitchen. It hit a window, which shattered. As people got up, she threw another one, and another. The stars attracted everyone's attention, but they were thrown fast enough so no one knew what direction they came from.
There was enough distraction for Drea and Michel to sneak down the stairs, across the room, and out the door without being seen.
There's the car, thought Michel, staring at it.
Now all they had to do was drive away and hope they weren't followed.
They made their last few paces to the car and managed to drive down the driveway; the guards too busy checking out the broken window to notice them.
But as Drea started the car, Teresa stuck her head out of the bushes and placed a tracking device behind the wheel.