So hi guys! This is it. The last hurrah. The final chapter. The goodbye. You all have been so great. It would be amazing to leave this story with a bang, so really make an effort, one final push to comment, it would make me feel like this story was an absolute success. I love every single one of you. My readers. My internet friends. My life comrades. My fanfiction family. So I just want to say thank you, without you I would be nothing. Thank you for your continued support. Thank you for dealing with my slow posting schedule, y'all have been incredibly tolerant. So come with me, and dive into this final chapter head on. This has been my baby for so long, and I'm sad to see it end, but it's time for my story to go out into the big world on its' own, all grown up. Finally, thank you again, and I hope you enjoy my brain-busting ending. :) As always, ENJOY!
-8tickles
(Isabel's POV)
The only reason I woke up was because I had to throw up. The toxins from the dart were working their way through my system, and my stomach was not at all pleased. My throat was dry and scratchy, but I spoke up as loud as my voice could go.
"Pull over or I'm going to puke in your car!"
I tried to meet the driver's eyes when he turned around to look at me, but they were shielded by dark lenses. I must've looked positively green, because he veered sharply off the road and unlocked the doors at lightning speed. I flung the door open and stumbled out onto the dry, barren ground. Everything was sandy and hot, with not a patch of grass or a single shrub in sight. Having not eaten before we were abducted this morning, nothing really came up from my stomach but bile. I dry heaved, trying to rid my aggravated system of the drugs. When my stomach finally quit its' revolt against my intestines, I sat, knees folded under me with my face to the ground for several minutes, just breathing.
I slowly stood up on my shaky legs and surveyed our surroundings. Ahead of us, there was nothing but highway and more dirt. The expanse stretched on for miles and miles. There was nothing as far as the human eye could see. Behind us, far off in the distance, 2 or 3 small black shapes approached: the other cars, one carrying Thomas. Thomas! What had happened to him? Had he even made it in one of the cars, or had they shot him? That thought was unthinkable.
"Hey you done yet?" The driver barked at me. I just nodded.
"Do you have any water?" I asked.
"If you get back in the car, yes, I do."
"Can we wait for the other cars to catch up with us and then we can all keep moving together?"
"No."
"Why not?" I asked.
He pondered for a moment before replied, "I actually don't know why. Aw what the hell, we'll wait for them if that's really what you want kid."
"Thanks." I gave him a small smile. "While you're at it, could you maybe take me back to the hospital safe and sound?"
"Do you always ask this many questions?" He answered my question with his own.
"Oh no, sir. Always more."
He just shook his head and faced forward again. "I've already talked to you more than I'm supposed to." He muttered.
"Why aren't you supposed to talk to me?"
"There you go with the questions again!" He threw up his hands in defeat. I chuckled.
Suddenly, I looked behind us and realized that all this time we'd been talking, the other cars had made progress and were within 50 feet of us now.
The driver, too noticed the other cars approaching at frightening speed. "Can you get back in now?" He pleaded.
"Fine, but I call shotgun. And I want the radio on."
"Yes, you can sit in the front seat, but I'm not allowed to let you turn the radio on."
"Why not?"
He face palmed. "Then that would give away where we are, which completely defeats the purpose of taking you to a secret location and I've said way too much now about this secret mission commissioned by Serena."
"Wait you work for Serena?!" I hadn't yet opened the passenger seat door, so I removed my grasp from the door handle and backed away slowly, one step at the time.
"Shit." He said. "Why do you have to ask so many questions, god dammit!"
I had to get out of here. I'd lowered my guard, thinking this guy maybe worked for someone else, but not Serena for sure! Stupid, stupid, stupid! My fight or flight instinct kicked in, so I partially wanted to punch the guy in the face and I partially wanted to turn and sprint in the other direction for as long and hard as I could, to get away from here.
I turned and hauled ass in the other direction, letting my bare feet pick up speed with each step. As I increased the distance between myself and the car, I heard him yell, "Wait! Stop! Come back here!" Then into his walkie-talkie, "We got a runner!"
My breath heaved in and out, my heart raced, and my wound-up feet slowed in the hot sand. I veered over to the road and increased my speed, forcing my body to work at 125%. I knew at this pace I wouldn't last long, but I had to last long enough to get away from these people. I just had to. After several minutes of full, hard running, I let my aching legs slow to a jog. This was my fatal mistake.
I heard to pop before I felt the prick in my shoulder. My body slowed to a lurching halt before I lost all control of my limbs and went tumbling to the blistering road below my feet. For the second time within a few hours, I had my consciousness stolen from me by drugs. I wiggled my scraped-up fingers in front of my eyes as one last attempt to stay awake, but my efforts were fruitless. This time when I went under though, was different. I dreamed.
The first nightmare pounded its way into my thoughts like an angry ex on a thin door. Violent colors flashes around in behind my eyes, dancing a ballet of reds, blacks, and smeary browns. The images after were what truly scared me. I watched from myself above, almost as if in third person. I lay in a hospital bed, my long blonde hair all gone. My figure was thin and emaciated. A breathing mask was strapped to my face, and my breaths came in shallow and uneven. A woman I almost recognized sat beside me, hands clasped together tightly in prayer.
Suddenly, the scene changed. I was still in the room, and the same woman was there, but this time, she was crying. Doctors surrounded me, and there were shock paddles on my chest. My lips had turned blue from de-oxygenation. Watching in terror from above, I kicked and thrashed to get out of the dream. Thankfully, it worked, and the scene shifted again. This time, the location was different. There was a large group of people gathered outside in the cold, snowy day. The grass had frosted over, and everyone shivered apprehensively. All were wearing black, and many of the women were crying. Four men were lowering a mahogany casket into the ground. Once it was settled in the ground, each person passed by and threw a handful of dirt down. Finally, the very last person in line laid a bouquet of flowers and a book on the top. I hovered closer and read the book title. It was Allie Condie's Matched, my favorite book of all time.
With that, the dreams disappeared in an explosion of mist. I jerked upright, feeling unable to catch my breath. It was dark, and I was tied to another human figure. His head lolled to one side, obviously still unconscious. A lock of curly hair dangled in front of his face, but I would've recognized him anywhere. Thomas. Thank god he was all right!
"Thomas. Thomas!" I wiggled a hand free and slapped him in the face.
He jolted awake, a terrified look in his eyes before noticing me.
"Isabel, you're alive!"
"And just in time to get shot." A voice said.
We snapped our heads up in unison to the scary voice. One of our captors stood in front of us, a semi-automatic pointed straight at us.
"Isabel get behind me. Now. " Thomas commanded, a hardness in his voice I'd never heard before.
"But…but…but…"
"Just do it." His tone was dark. "And don't worry about me getting shot, I'm just pretend."
"What?" This had to be some kind of joke.
"Enough of this talk." The man said.
Thomas shoved me behind him, and a second later, the bang came.
Seconds later, my eyelids flew open. I frantically felt all over my body. No bullet holes. No blood. But I was also no longer in a dark room. Everything around me was white. I panted, wondering what had just happened. I was lying on something soft and fluffy. I was in a hospital bed. I began to panic. I turned my head to my left, and there, in a chair, sat the same dark-haired woman from my dream.
"Where…where am I?" I asked. "And who are you?"
"Oh sweetie, you're okay!" Said she. "You really don't remember me?"
I shook my head no.
"I'm your mother."
"What happened?" Now everything was all jumbled up and confused in my head.
"You…you have brain cancer. You've been in a medically-induced coma for months now."
"Where's Thomas?"
"Who?" She looked at me, puzzled.
"You know. Thomas Anderson. My boyfriend."
"Sweetie, I don't know a Thomas Anderson. He must've been from a dream you had during your coma."
"But…but…but! He seemed so real!"
"I'm sure he did, Izzie."
I turned my head the other way, no longer wanting to look at my own mother, who I could barely remember for the life of me. To my right, there was another bed with a boy lying in it. I must've been in a double hospital room. Just at that moment, the boy across from me turned his head, our eyes connected, and I nearly screamed. It was Thomas. He squinted at me, shook his head, then did a double-take.
"You…you look awfully familiar."
"You do too." I told him.
"Your name doesn't happen to be Isabel Allery, does it?"
"It does. Your name doesn't happen to be Thomas Anderson, does it?" A grin began to split my face.
"It does."
And I knew then that maybe dreams weren't so fake, after all.
We've made it to the end, but this isn't the end. Not really. Well, it's the end of this story, but it's just the beginning of my writing career. -8tickles
