Jenna Czech

The Camp By Jenna Czech Chapter 1 There was a knock on my bedroom door as I read peacefully in bed. “Amelia, dinner is on the table.” “Coming Mom!” I set my book on my nightstand and head to the kitchen. At the dinner table, I find my brother, James, and sister, Rebecca, already immersed in conversation. “What are we talking about?” I ask as I sit down at the dinner table. “Well, since James is leaving for college soon, I was hoping I could get his room here,” Rebecca says. “What?” I object, “why would you get his room? I’m older!” “His room is bigger, and you know I’ve been wanting extra space for my art.” Oh yeah. Rebecca’s art is probably the most annoying thing ever. Not because it’s bad, it’s actually pretty impressive; she has this innate ability to make cool things out of almost anything. Once, she made an entire elephant sculpture out of tin. Why an elephant you ask? I asked her the same thing. The best answer I could get was that she was “inspired by their intelligence” or something like that. We watched Planet Earth one time, and she thought she was an expert on elephants. Anyway, her art is annoying because it takes up so much space and she leaves her supplies everywhere. Admittedly, she’s too talented to give up on it, so I give in. “Alright fine, you can have the room, but you owe me.” “Yeah, yeah” Rebecca says dismissively. “Amelia,” my dad says from across the table, “you’re almost a senior in high school yourself. Do you know what you want to study in college?” I sigh. The future has been the furthest thing from my mind. I don’t know what I want to do when I’m older because I desperately want to avoid growing up for as long as I can. I know it’s childish and a bit irresponsible to think this way, but can you blame me? The world is a scary place. So, I say I’m still thinking about it and change the subject. “Do we have any plans for the weekend?” “Well, your mother and I were thinking of going camping. Does that sound like something you would want to do?” Ugh. Camping. While I don’t mind being outside, it’s the middle of summer so it’ll be hot, and I abhor heat. There’s nothing worse than getting a headache from dehydration, sweating through 1 your clothes and having them stick to you, or the worst thing: the disorientation and fatigue heat always seems to bring for no reason. I’m about to say I’d rather do anything else, but James and Rebecca seem so excited by the idea that I feign excitement too. “It’s a plan, then!” says my mom, “this Saturday, we’ll leave around 9 AM. It’s a long drive, so you guys might want to bring something to entertain yourselves.” Well, alright, if nothing else, I’ll get to read for a little bit, I think to myself. Saturday morning comes too quickly. We all pile into the car and start our drive to the campsite. I get about a chapter into book my before I hear an ambulance drive by that distracts me. I look up and I see the most horrific, yet interesting sight: a terrible car crash. A small white Honda looks to be trapped under a bigger Toyota truck. The white car looks as if a giant took it in its hands and crushed it. The ambulance stops at the scene and the man who drove the Toyota, looking perfectly fine, gets out of his truck. He looks at the white car with complete terror. I follow his gaze and I see the poor woman who drove the small car completely still, head first in air bags, and bleeding out of her head. Paramedics in green and black uniforms run out of the ambulance.That’s all I see before we pass them by. “Humph. She’s probably dead.” My dad grumbles. “That’s really sad! She was young, too. She had a whole life ahead of her.” Rebecca says, taking off her headphones. I nod. “I hope she’s an organ donor; that way her life wouldn’t be completely wasted.” Mom says. “Yeah, here’s to hoping.” Dad replies. “Really, you would be an organ donor if you could?” I ask. “You wouldn’t?” Dad says incredulously “I don’t know, I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.” I say “Oh, you will. You will.” Dad says. What does that mean? I look at Rebecca and raise an eyebrow. She just shrugs and puts her headphones back on. When we get to the camp, it looks nothing like how I imagined it would. In the place of an open grassy field you’d normally have on camp grounds, is asphalt, and there’s an isolated tall building nearby. It is painted grey and has several windows that make it look similar to a hospital. On the center of the building, there’s a symbol of a rose encased in glass, and within the glass, transparent, is an analog clock, but the clock has twelve hands pointing at every number, instead of two pointing at specific numbers like how a normal analog clock looks. The whole display lays on a black background. It’s perplexing. “Hey,” I say pointing up at the building, 2 “does anyone know what that symbol means?” “Maybe that it’s open twenty-four hours?” James suggests. “Maybe, but that doesn’t explain the rose,” I say. “Open for…Beauty and the Beast?” James says. I laugh. “Is this where we’re camping?” Rebecca asks with an edge of disappointment in her voice. “Yeah,” says my mom, “I know how much Amelia doesn’t like bugs and hot weather, so we thought it’d be more fun if we stayed in that building.” I look up at it again and I feel uneasy. It looks anything but welcoming. “Thanks, Mom!” I try to say with sincerity, but my voice catches a little in my throat. I guess my “gratitude” wasn’t very convincing because Mom says, “Aw, don’t worry, it’ll be fun, I promise.” We walk in the building and are greeted by a large dining hall with no windows and completely white walls surrounding us. Filling the room, are four brown, long tables accompanied by a long bench on either side. I'm surprised to see that the tables are packed with kids. Some are very young, toddler age I would guess, while some are much older, nearly out of high school by the looks of them, but most are every age in between. Several are talking animatedly to one another at the tables. I notice a blonde-haired and blue-eyed boy get up from a table, grab a tray and napkin from a pile of others sitting on a nearby counter and head to a tube-like machine on the other side of the room. He says something that I can’t quite make out, but when his lips stop moving, a roll, followed by broccoli and chicken wings, falls from the tube and onto his tray. Strange, but convenient, I think. Everyone is enjoying each other’s company, and I find myself wanting to join the fun. I start to head over when something stops me. In a corner of the room, I see a very young girl crouched on the floor crying while an older boy tries to console her. What is she crying about? Why is a boy consoling her and not her parents? I look around the room again and notice there are no adults at all. Why? Certainly, the older kids can’t be parenting all these kids. I turn to ask Mom why there aren’t any adults around, but she’s not behind us anymore. Our dad is gone too. “Hey guys?” I shout to my siblings. I can’t hear anything through the chatter of the kids. “Did you see where Mom and Dad went?” Rebecca shrugs and James looks behind him. “I didn’t see them leave, but they’ll probably be back soon!” He shouts back. “Do you think we can sit down?” Rebecca asks. “I’d rather we wait until Mom and Dad get back!” I say, still uneasy at the thought of the little girl crying to the older boy. Twenty minutes go by without our parents’ appearance. Now I’m worried. “I’ll be right back, okay?” I tell Rebecca and James. 3 I walk towards the exit of the building hoping to find them outside. Maybe they just needed to get away from the noise, I tell myself. I open the doors, and my parents are nowhere to be seen. I look around and see that our car is no longer where we parked. Did they leave us here? No. They couldn’t have. They probably just left to find a bathroom somewhere else. But they’ve already been gone longer than twenty minutes, and I think they would have told us where they were going before they left right? I run back inside. I tell my siblings what I’ve seen, and they dismiss my concerns. Rebecca says I worry too much, and James maintains his belief that they’ll be back soon. Before I can say anything else, I feel a hand tightly grip my shoulder and I’m forcibly pulled away from my siblings. Another hand closes around my mouth so that my yells are muffled. I see James getting taken away by a mysterious figure too. Then Rebecca is taken. All of us are screaming our heads off, but neither the figures nor the abundance of children at the dining hall seem to care or even acknowledge that anything unusual is happening. Both Rebecca and James’ captors are covered head to toe in black clothing; ski masks conceal most of their faces save for their eyes, so even if I wasn’t scared out of my mind at the moment, I wouldn’t be able to identify them. I see them take James and Rebecca off in different directions, and suddenly everything goes black. Chapter 2 When I come to, I’m in a hot and humid dimly lit room that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years – there’s dirt and beetles crawling everywhere, and I have to breathe through my mouth to keep from gagging on a mixture of putrid smells. There are no windows, which probably contributes to the poor ventilation, and only one door in the far-left corner of the room. Long connected metal pipes line the walls. I’m sitting in the center of the room on a battered wooden chair, and I’m bound to it by rope. More than anything, I want to get my feet away from the beetles on the ground. No, more than anything, I wish it wasn’t so hot in here. In front of me is a desk that is quite large. It houses one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine different drawers and I scare myself a little thinking about what could possibly be in them. Thankfully I’m not kept waiting very long because a woman with long wavy blonde hair and green eyes walks into the room. She starts speaking to me and I’m surprised to hear a British accent. I’m still in America…right? “It is important that you stay calm. My colleagues and I don’t like when things don’t go our way, but if we have to get messy, we will.” “Who are you? And where am I?” I scream at her. “Ah ah ah,” she tsks at me like I’m a baby, “now, what did I just say? We’re not very good at listening, are we?” The woman pulls something covered in velvet cloth from one of her boots and places it on the desk in front of me. She walks over to the edge of the room, about to leave when she stops, “Don’t be stupid, now.” Her eyes flash to the object on the desk, and then back 4 at me. It happens so fast, I’m sure I imagined it. Before I know it, she is gone and I’m alone again. I feel anxiety burning in me and before I can stop myself, I start hyperventilating. My mind is blurry, and I can barely comprehend everything that has happened in such a short time. I remember the woman telling me to stay calm and I close my eyes and focus on taking slow, deep breaths. My mind starts to clear. I feel something wet and cold fall on my face and I figure it’s my own sweat until I feel it hit me again a few seconds later and again a few seconds after that. I open my eyes, look up, and notice a small hole in the ceiling out of which water is dripping. Huh that’s weird. Where’s the water coming from? Next to the hole on the ceiling, I notice a tiny black circle. It’s moving ever so slightly. I think it’s a security camera, or at least that’s what it appears to be. I look back down to see the object covered in cloth on the desk that the woman set down is poking out of the cloth a little bit and I can see a glint of my reflection in the object. It’s a mirror? I lean closer. With the rope binding my arms, I have to crane my neck to get a better look and even then, I can only see a fraction of the object. But it’s enough. It’s sharp and clearly made of metal, so I’m sure it’s a knife. I know I can use the knife to cut myself free, but I can’t get to it from here and any attempt to escape will be seen on the security camera. And even if I do manage to cut myself free, where would I go? I could get out of this room, but I have no idea where I am, so it would be really easy for me to get caught. I have to make a decision before the woman comes back, if she comes back. It has to be the right one. I don’t want to think about what could happen if I get this wrong. I start getting overwhelmed again at how uncomfortable I am, everything I don’t know, and how much my survival depends on knowledge of anything. I take a second look at the security camera. It’s awfully small. Is it really a security camera? After all, I only assumed it was. It’s a small possibility, but if that object above me isn’t a security camera, then I might just be able to escape this hole without anyone knowing. I just need a plan of action to test it out. Whoever could be watching me would only reveal themselves if something unthinkable happened…right? I have no idea why I might be being watched, so I can’t assume anything. And suddenly I’m reminded of exam week at school. Every year, at the end of the year, I, and my classmates would have to take six tests from our classes over three days. We’d take two tests a day and have two hours each to complete each. Nerves ran high during exam week because the stakes were high; each test was 20 percent of your grade and we got tested on everything we learned that year in each class. The consequences of failing the exams would only be a failing grade in the class but failing here now could result in something I don’t want to think about, but I have to treat it the same way. I must use my knowledge of everything to pass. So, I think about what I learned from school: Math…uhhhh I don’t think trigonometry is going to help me here. Science? Chemistry was the last science class I took. It could be helpful. I rack my brain thinking of everything I learned. Everything is kind of a blur in my head and it’s really hard to think with water droplets constantly falling on me. Wait...water… 5 I remember I did a project on water irrigation towards the end of the school year, and I got an A on it. My paper argued the best ways to conserve water in warmer months. I remember reading that extreme temperature in either direction could cause a water pipe to burst. The pipes lining the walls in front of me look like they run beyond this room and could be water pipes. I don’t know for sure, but if they are, I might be able to get them to burst. I don’t even want to think about increasing the temperature in here, but it is so hot, it seems it would be impossible to decrease the temperature. If the pipes burst and cause a flood and someone is watching me, they may come to fix it and I may be able to learn more about what’s going on here. It’s a long shot. I don’t even know what the prime temperature for pipe bursts is, if that is even a thing. Regardless, I’m starting to sweat now – is it already getting hotter in here? – Plan…plan…I need to think…My skin burns, but I notice the rope binding my wrists and hands lessen. The beads of sweat on my arms have given me a chance! I shimmy my arms out of the rope as subtlety as I can and when my hands are free, I glance up at the security camera. Fear that I may be being watched fills my whole body. I don’t know if I can afford to wait and see if whoever may be watching me will reveal themselves. If they do come and see that I’m untied, they could tie me up again and make any chance of a second escape impossible. I decide the best course of action is to escape now, think later. I hate the idea of escaping into unknown territory, but my siblings could be in a similar situation as me and their lives could be in danger. I need to find them. I grab the knife in velvet cloth on the desk that the woman left, hide it in my shoe like she did for safekeeping, and run out the door. If nothing else, it could be an effective weapon. When I open the door, I am faced with a long dark tunnel that looks endless. I start walking blindly forward. The contrast in temperature in the tunnels compared to my room is discernable; I find myself gasping for the cool air. My pace quickens as I feel braver. 50 feet. 100 feet. Still walking. I meet no one as I keep on, and I grow suspicious. I walk for what must be an hour. Fatigue and dehydration threaten to consume me, and I need to rest. Although I’m seemingly alone in here, I make myself as small as possible and cover my head with my shirt to both silence my breathing and conceal my identity in case someone is looking for me. I’m only sitting for a little bit, trying to figure out my next move when I hear the faintest whisper. I stop thinking and listen hard. “A-Amelia?...James?” I slowly pull my head out of my shirt. In front of me, I see the silhouette of someone short and skinny. “…Rebecca?” I whisper back. Rebecca gets closer and I see the frightened look on her face slowly turn to relief. 6 “Oh, my gosh,” as she speaks, her voice rises, “you have no idea how happy I am to see you!” “Shhh!” I say. “I’m happy to see you too, but you can’t be so loud! It’s possible bad people are after me!” “I’m sorry, you’re right.” Her voice returns to a whisper. “Do you know where James is?” I ask, “Where did you come from?” “I’ve no idea,” Rebecca says, “I escaped from the room they were holding me in, and tunnels surrounded me.” “Tunnels? As in plural? There was only one tunnel outside my room.” “Yeah, I couldn’t decide which way to go, but something inside me urged me to go left, so I did, and eventually I found you.” “Okay, so that means there’s a point somewhere back where you came from that will give us the option to turn. We just have to pick one of the other directions and keep walking.” I sigh in exasperation. I’ve got a pounding headache and I’m so tired and thirsty. I haven’t had any water since we came here. I keep sweating and I wish I could just stop. “You don’t happen to have any water on you, do you?” I ask. “No, sorry. I don’t even want to think about water right now.” Rebecca says. “What? What do you mean?” As we walk, Rebecca explains, telling me her horrid experience in this place. She tells me the last thing she remembers is seeing me get dragged by a figure dressed in all black and seeing the same thing happen to James. The next thing she knew she was lying in the middle of a cold room when water started leaking from the ceiling. It leaked in droplets at first but eventually turned into buckets of water. So those were water pipes, I think. Maybe that’s the water that was dripping on me, too. Rebecca knew she had to get out in a timely fashion otherwise she could drown, especially since she can’t swim. She tried the door, but it was locked. There were no windows in her room either. The amount of water coming from the ceiling actually broke it and pieces of wood came flying to the floor. She tells me she fashioned a hook out of the wood pieces in the ceiling and inserted it into the locked doorknob to unlock the door and get out. The water was almost at her hips by the time she got out. “I was so scared. You will never catch me drowning! God, it’s my biggest fear.” “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. How you handled yourself and figured out how to survive under so much stress and pressure is very impressive!” “Thanks, sis!” She beams. “How did you get out?” 7 I tell her my story. I leave out that I felt intense anxiety and hyperventilated a lot. Compared to her experience here, mine seems like a walk in the park. When I’m done, Rebecca looks impressed as well. “Wow, that definitely sounded like your worst fear.” “What do you mean?” “Intense heat, right? That’s why you didn’t want to go camping this weekend?” “How did you know I didn’t-“ “You’re my sister, I know you.” “Huh. I guess you’re right.” Maybe that’s why I was so freaked. Horror washes over me as I realize something. I stop walking. “Rebecca?” I say tentatively. “Hmm?” Rebecca turns towards me. When she sees I’ve stopped, she stops too. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “You don’t think those rooms were designed specifically for us, do you?” I ask, “I mean, designed to embody our biggest fears?” “I don’t know. Anything is possible at this point, I guess.” She doesn’t seem scared at the prospect, but if these rooms were designed specifically for us, to scare us, and potentially kill us, then this place is much more dangerous than I thought. Chapter 3 We reach the trifurcation in the tunnel and are faced with a dilemma. We can either turn right where Rebecca’s room is, go straight, wherein we might keep walking endlessly; or we can go left, whose path ahead is also completely unknown. I decide purely on a hunch that left is the correct answer. After all, Rebecca turned left and found me. Any chance there’s a pattern? After no objection from Rebecca, we head left. We walk for what seems like ages and I’m wishing I had more of a reason to turn left than a hunch. I look over at Rebecca. Her face is screwed up in determination. I guess she’s not feeling quite as hopeless as I am. I can’t help wondering what she could be thinking. The sound of a muffled shout takes me away from my thoughts. It sounds like it’s coming from behind us. Crap! Did we miss a secret passageway or something? “Was that James? Did that sound like James to you?” Rebecca asks hopefully. 8 “I don’t know, but we better turn back. It sounded like it was coming from behind us. Don’t you think?” I ask. “Yeah definitely,” Rebecca replies. We turn back and I’m careful not to let my thoughts distract me. If we missed something before, I need to pay attention. Sure enough, the muffled yells continue and guide us to a small crack in the tunnel wall. Rebecca feels around for a push and the wall gives way. Inside is not James, but the three men that captured us, still fully concealed in black clothing. They struggle on the floor, tied together by duct tape. Their mouths are covered with duct tape as well. The only difference to their appearance now is that there were several incisions made on one man's leg, through his clothes, that got stitched back together sloppily. Whoever made these cuts was not trying to be careful. The men’s eyes are wide and they are continuing to shout. Beside them, sitting ever so leisurely – smoking a cigar with her feet up on a desk that looks similar to the desk in the room I was held in – is the woman with the blonde wavy hair and British accent. “It’s about time you two showed up. Looks like you weren’t stupid after all,” she winks at me. “W-what?” I stammer. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly. I’m Valerie.” Valerie takes her feet off the desk and walks over to us. She puts her hand out towards me. I guess she wants me to shake it. I do, all the while utterly confused. “I’m-” I start. “Oh, no need to introduce yourselves. I already know who you are. Amelia,” she says pointing at me, “and Rebecca,” she says as she points at Rebecca. “I’m sorry I don’t understand,” I say. “Yes well, they never do.” Valerie says. As she takes her seat back at the desk, she continues, “You see, I was once just like you. My parents and I flew here from London. They told me it was a great place for kids to get away from their parents for a bit and make friends. I was 13 years old at the time, so any time away from my parents was a blessing. I was ecstatic. I opened those big glass doors, and it was completely quiet. No one around. I thought this was odd for a place that advertises that you can make friends. I heard my parents drive away after I walked in the building but I wasn’t alarmed. They said I’d have freedom from them. I just figured they would come to pick me up in a few days, but they never did.” “Soon after they left, men covered in black took me away and the next thing I remember, I’m in a room filled with tarantulas. I’ve always hated spiders. Especially big ones like those. It is safe to say I was terrified.” It’s weird that she is reciting her experience as if she were reliving it, speaking every detail she can remember. “I was tied by rope to a wooden chair, so I couldn’t move. I was forced to sit there helplessly while tons of them crawled all over me. Eventually, someone entered the room. It was a man. 9 His face wasn’t concealed like the other blokes. He had blue eyes, a beard, long brown hair, and crooked teeth. Not exactly attractive. He said he’d let me go if I did whatever he wanted. I agreed out of pure fear. He collected the spiders in a bucket, put a cap on the bucket, and proceeded to violate me. I put up with it just so I could leave. When he was done, he pulled out a knife and started walking towards me with it, shaking it violently. ‘You’re gonna die now, little girl.’ He cackled, ‘You’re no longer good to me. We can’t have you running your pretty mouth to anyone about this.’ I pleaded for him to spare my life. He wouldn’t oblige me.” “As he came closer, I did the only thing I could think to do. I swung all my weight backwards in the chair, pulled my legs up as swiftly as I could and kicked him square in the chest. The force of my kick made me fall to the ground with my chair. He fell backwards too, and dropped his knife. My chair broke and I was able to break free from the rope binding my arms. My attacker was starting to get up, but the adrenaline coursing through me was far too fast for him. I grabbed his knife off the ground before he could and stabbed him a dozen times everywhere to make sure I’d be safe. I didn’t know what to do, so I just left him there and ran out of the room. Beyond my room were the same tunnels we’re in now. I found my way out after many hours and dead ends. I had a general idea of where I was but America was still such a foreign land to me but I knew I didn’t want to leave to find my parents again. It’s miraculous I was able to survive, homeless for several years after that, given how young I was and how blurry everything felt. I was convinced everyone I knew from my life before thought I was dead because no one found me. I found out later that I was right. Apparently my parents had told everyone I had drowned. It was a very dark period in my life.” “When I was 18, I was lucky enough to get a job as a waitress despite my ragged appearance, and I made decent money from that. I also made the chef make orders for customers that didn’t exist so that I could eat whatever he made. I had tried to forget the camp, and heard nothing about it for a while. Nothing about what it was, nor where it actually was for years. But I was working late at the restaurant one night and happened to glance up at the TV. On the news, I saw him. The man I had sworn I killed, convicted of kidnapping several children over the last twelve years. He was sentenced to ten years in prison - definitely not enough in my opinion - but the fact that he continued his twisted operation after what I went through made me want to find the camp again and stop anyone else from experiencing such trauma as I had. I had no idea where this place was, so I went to a local library after my shift, and spent a couple hours there until they closed, searching for any information on it. In books, on computers, but found nothing. So, I went back the next day, and the next, until finally, in a big, intimidating book called, “Weird California Legends”, the camp was listed. It was described as a facility where, a couple hundred years ago, advertised that parents could abandon their children to have experiments done on them in the name of science. And, the parents knew this was the fate they were giving their children. I read that most parents didn’t care, and some even felt good about it because they were contributing to the development of science! However, the author claimed all of this as hearsay, only theories. I knew that was a lie. There was a picture of it in the book and I recognized it immediately. Next to the picture was information on its location, so as soon as I saved up enough money from my job, I came back to help. No one else was going to go through what I went through if I could help it. I got green eye-colored contacts, dyed my hair, and changed my name 10 so that no one here would recognize me, and I could work undercover for the boss, a man named Rolojov. He is Russian. Doesn’t speak English, so unfortunately, I had to learn Russian to work for him. He, and the black masked men believe I’m on their side when in actuality, I’m helping to save every kid that steps foot in here and I’m killing anyone who gets in my way.” “So…those kids in the dining hall, are all the kids you’ve saved?” I ask. “Yep! Unfortunately, I can’t prevent the whole capture thing in the first place. I don’t have a high enough rank yet to take over Rolojov’s position.” “Does Rolojov know about all the kids you’ve saved?” Rebecca asks. “He knew about the first few. You know, I wasn’t always good at my job, and I’ve gotten punished as a result, but I’ve worked hard to prove my loyalty and he trusts me again. Every day for an hour, the kids I’ve saved are allowed to eat in the dining hall and socialize because the boss sleeps in his room every day during that hour, but after the hour, I hide them, and they have to stay hidden until the next day because Rolojov expects them to be in their fear rooms all day. They’re not, of course; soon after I started working here, I installed security cameras that I preprogramed to play fake feed of children in their fear rooms. So, when Rolojov watches the cameras, he thinks everything is going according to plan. As for the absence of kids he has gotten to take advantage of, I tell him business has been slow ever since the public found out about the girl 25 years ago that was abused here, AKA me. In actuality, no one knows about that. I’ve been too ashamed to tell anyone but the kids I save. I offer my “services” to the boss to make up for the lack of business. I hate it, constantly being reminded of my trauma, but it’s worth it.” “Why don’t you just kill Rolojov? Or call the police?” I ask. “I haven’t been able to get Rolojov alone outside the camp. I’m afraid that if I kill Rolojov while within these walls, the black masked men might hear me or something, and there’s just too many ways to get caught. And, because I’ve killed people to get to where I am now, if I call the cops, they could use that to implicate me, and it’s possible the boss could have cops on his side who’d jump at the chance.” “What about our parents? Did they know what happens here?” Rebecca asks. Valerie sighs sadly, “if I’m honest, I’ve no idea what they knew. Because no one knows what happened to me, I doubt they knew the full extent of it, but they definitely wanted to get rid of you by bringing you here. I wouldn’t be surprised if they found the same book I did and took advantage of the chance. I’m sorry to say your parents are not good people.” Rebecca’s face sinks. I knew she didn’t want to believe it. I give her a hug and she starts sobbing uncontrollably. She composes herself after a few minutes and looks more determined than I’ve ever seen her. “Let’s go save James,” she says with conviction. “I wanna help. I mean, if that’s okay.” Valerie says. 11 “Of course, it is!” I say. “We’re gonna need all the help we can get.” Chapter 4 “Oh, hold on,” Valerie says. She turns towards the three men in black still duct taped together on the floor. She pulls a gun out of an inside pocket in her jacket and shoots them all. They’re killed instantly. Rebecca screams and I’m scared too. I’ve only ever seen someone get shot in movies. I didn’t think I’d ever have to see it in real life. “I’m sorry, but it had to be done,” Valerie says. “We’re going to need them dead in order to set your brother free. I know where he is. Do you still have that clothed knife I placed on the desk in your fear room, Amelia?” “Oh, yeah.” I pull the knife out of my shoe and hand it to her. Valerie kneels down beside the dead man with the stitches and begins to cut him open. Watching her, it’s all I can do not to throw up or cry. At school, I’d feel nauseated at the mention of something as small as scraping skin cells from your body. This is much, much worse. Finally, the man’s leg is cut open and Valerie pulls out a pin the size of a screw. “This is going to help James escape,” Valerie says, holding the pin in front of us. “Leave the men here; we won’t need them anymore, and follow me.” “How you doing, Amelia?” Rebecca asks as we follow Valerie out of the room, “you’re looking a bit pale.” “I’m always pale,” I joke, “yeah, I died a bit watching that. This is why I could never be a surgeon.” “I know what you mean,” Rebecca gives me a weak smile, “at least now with our parents gone, you don’t have to worry about them interrogating you about your career path.” I smile back. It’s just like Rebecca to find the positive in everything. I don’t know how she manages it, but I’m grateful for it. “We’re almost there,” Valerie calls to us from ahead. Suddenly, I’m filled with about four different emotions. Happiness at the idea of seeing our brother, fear at the possible state of him, and apprehension and anxiety that Rebecca and I are putting most of our trust in someone who seems like a good person, but let’s face it, has a life story that seems way too main character-y to be true, and I’m not here for it. Also, she hid a pin inside a man. Who does that? “We’re here!” Valerie shouts. 12 We’ve arrived at an interesting intersection of the tunnel. All around us on the tunnel walls are drawings or designs of some sort. Ranging from flowers and mountains and landscape drawings to drawings of people and animals interacting. It’s all very beautiful and I wonder who made these, when, and why. In between the drawings is a door. The door to our brother. Valerie gives us a minute to admire the drawings and prepare ourselves for whatever could be inside. “You ready?” She whispers. Her tone is a bit shaky with a hint of concern behind it and this amplifies the emotions I have been feeling. She is usually so confident. “No, not really,” Rebecca chuckles nervously. “Let’s just go,” I say. Valerie opens the door. I hold my breath expecting to see James dead, and somehow what I see is worse. Nothing. No one is there. Nothing is there except a chain dangling from the ceiling. Probably where James was hanging but he’s gone. Where is he? I look over at Rebecca and she looks just as confused as I feel. I look to Valerie, and she looks horrified. “Something went wrong” she says. “What? What do you mean?” I say. “With the camera feed. I don’t understand; I know I pre-programed every camera to be fake, but somehow, Rolojov must have seen James try to escape on the cameras. He probably considered James a threat; too smart, because he thought of a way to escape.” “Are you saying he’s dead?” Rebecca’s voice shakes as she speaks, “We can still help him, right?” “There’s a chance he might still be alive,” Valerie says, “but I fear he has already been violated. We need to move fast if we want to have any hope left at all.” “Okay, let’s go, then!” I urge. “That’s the problem,” Valerie says, “I knew for sure your brother was in this room because I have the black masked men report to me where everyone goes, but once the boss takes you, he could take you anywhere. I wish I knew why or how the camera got messed up. I must have made a mistake. I’m so sorry.” Great. So, we’ve narrowed down James’ location to anywhere in the world. I’m at a loss and I’ve never felt so hopeless. “What do we do?” I mumble as I bury my head in my hands and sink to the floor. “Oh, no you don’t,” Rebecca says as she pulls me up off the ground. “Amelia, hope isn’t gone yet, and if you lose it, I’m going to lose it.” “You’re right I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do,” I say. 13 “Well, nothing is going to get solved if we just sit here and sulk. The least we can do is get out of this room,” Rebecca says. “She’s right,” Valerie agrees, “we should go.” She opens the door to the room and Rebecca and I start to follow, but Valerie stops in her tracks. When I get close behind Valerie, I can see why. Outside the room, in the tunnel, is a boy wearing a worn dark brown shirt and ripped leggings. He looks to be about Rebecca’s age; 14. He has shiny blonde hair and striking blue eyes. I recognize those eyes. He is the same boy I saw in the dining hall that got food from the tube machine! He sits cross-legged on the tunnel floor painting the walls. I guess we know who has been making the pictures now. At the moment, he seems to be drawing a horse frolicking in a field. It takes Rebecca closing the door behind her before the boy notices us watching him. “Oh, hi Valerie!” The boy’s tone is light and airy, “Who’s with you?” “This is Amelia,” Valerie says, pointing at me. “Nice to meet you,” I say. “And this is Rebecca,” Valerie says. “Hi,” Rebecca says shyly. “My name is Christopher, but my friends, and you, can call me Chris. What are you guys doing?” “We’re looking for someone,” Valerie says, “Did you happen to see the boss take a teenage boy, a few years older than you, out of this room today? He has dark short hair, brown eyes, pale skin?” “Yeah, I think so,” Chris says. “I ran to hide when I saw the doorknob turn, so I didn’t get the best view, but I saw the boss come out in a hurry and he was holding, er, dragging someone that looked drugged. After they passed me, curiosity got the better of me, and I followed them.” Horror crosses Valerie’s face. “Far behind,” he adds quickly, “I was far behind them. Don’t worry about me, Valerie. I doubt he saw me. And anyway, I think I know where your guy is.” “Really? Will you help us find him please?” I say a little more desperately than I would have liked. “Can I bring my paint brushes?” Chapter 5 Chris leads the way through the tunnel, and I feel hopeful again. I’m not even annoyed at Rebecca’s attempts to flirt with Chris or when Valerie continuously scolds Chris for how 14 dangerous it was to paint outside James's fear room. “I told you not to paint there this week. You could have been seen,” she would say. And Chris would respond the same way, “I just can’t resist my urges to paint.” To which Rebecca would giggle. Every time. We get to an area of the tunnels I’ve never seen before. There are torches everywhere so I can actually see, and I’m surprised to see about two dozen children sitting on a blanket on the tunnel floor. They’re playing some card game with cards made out of a material I don’t know. Hearts, spades, clubs, and diamonds have all been carved out somehow in these cards. “Hi, Chris!” Many say as we pass. “Can’t talk now, guys, I’m on a mission with these lovely ladies,” he gestures to us and Rebecca blushes. “But I’ll win every game when I come back.” “We’ll see about that!” A boy with long, slick black hair shouts from the crowd. Chris stops briefly to do a little handshake with the boy, and we continue our journey. “What was that?” I ask. “Oh, that’s just where many of us hide after socialize hour is up so we don’t have to go back to those...rooms.” He says with a shudder. “It’s deep enough in the tunnel so the boss never comes through here. We made those cards because with being here and hidden away for so long, you need something to do.” “Wait, if the boss never comes through here, how do you know we’re going where we need to go to find James?” I ask. “I know these tunnels backwards and forwards. This is just the longer way. I figured by going this way, we don’t have to worry about the boss coming back.” Chris explains. It was probably a smart move, but we only have so much time, and I’d hate to think that by not risking our lives going the more direct way, we’re putting James in a bigger risk. We finally find the end of the tunnel and I’m actually relieved to see daylight and feel the hot sun on my skin. “There!” Chris points to what looks like a runway in the middle of nowhere a few yards ahead of us, “I saw them get in a plane and takeoff on that runway,” he says. “How long ago was this?” Valerie asks. “Probably an hour ago, maybe two,” Chris shrugs. “Damn it, Chris! They could be anywhere by now!” Valerie shouts, “Unless-” she suddenly takes off in the opposite direction. “Hey! Wait!” I call to her, “where are you going?” As she runs, she yells, “I’ll be back!” She’s back about 10 minutes later with a parachute, three walkie-talkie radios, and a phone. “I called someone. They are going to bring a helicopter for me,” she says. 15 “You have a helicopter guy?” I ask. Valerie dismisses me with a wave of her hand, “I’m going to look for any sign James may have been dropped from the plane.” My eyes widen in shock. If that happened, James is probably already dead. “These are for you,” she tosses each of us one radio, “so that I can communicate with you from the sky, give you updates, you know.” The helicopter arrives and Valerie begins to leave. “Wait!” Rebecca shouts through the noise of the helicopter, “Please find him.” Even though this whole experience has forced her to grow up immensely, at this moment, with her tearful eyes, she’s never looked like more of a child. “I’m gonna try, I promise,” Valerie says, gently. She gives Rebecca’s hand a little squeeze and takes off toward the helicopter. * * * * * Once I’m in the helicopter, I stash my phone in my left jumper pocket next to my gun, and I quickly take my seat next to Louis, my pilot. As I look into his twinkling eyes, I’m reminded of our past. Louis and I have been friends forever. Well, up until he thought I was dead when I was 13, just like everyone else. We reconnected on a blind date. I was twenty years old. I wanted to find a way to forget my past and I thought finding someone to spend my life with might help me. I recognized him as soon as I saw him. I had already dyed my hair at that time, but I wasn’t wearing the green contacts, so he recognized me too. We had a laugh about the date mix up and spent the rest of the night together. Talking about when we were younger, what we’re up to now, and our passions in life. I felt comfortable enough to tell him what happened to me. He was incredibly understanding and didn’t look down on me. As we talked, he had the same twinkle in his eyes that he has now. We’ve been friends ever since. “Okay, this is important,” I tell Louis, “We’re looking for a boy who is pale, has dark brown hair, and brown eyes.” I grab a notepad off the dash and begin to sketch James. I show my drawing to him. “If it’s so important, I’d have thought you’d put more effort into that,” he grins at my sketch. “Stop, you know I’ve never been good at drawing!” I tease. “No, it’s great, I’m sorry. I’ll know him when I see him,” he says. I look out the helicopter window, “I’m worried about James, but I’m also worried about the kids down there. I hope they’re doing okay.” 16 * * * * * After Valerie takes off, I sit down on the pavement and wait. Chris takes a seat beside me, and Rebecca follows on my other side. “So, who is he to you? James, is it?” Chris asks. “Yeah,” I say, “he’s our brother.” “Tell me about him,” Chris says. “Oh…” I pause as I remember him, “He likes video games, Zelda mostly. Have you heard of that?” Oh, yeah!” Chris says, “I used to play that all the time back home! That and Mario Kart.” “Yeah! Mario Kart is so fun,” I say. “He plays trumpet at his school. He’s good at it, but I cannot tell you how annoying that thing is.” Chris laughs. “He wants to be a music composer when he grows up. Score movies, you know, that kind of thing,” Rebecca says. “He’s lucky to have sisters like you guys. I know my sisters would never know this much about me. You must really love him.” Chris says. “Yeah, we do,” I say sadly. James has always been a good brother to us. Never has he fought us or pranked us or done anything that normal brothers do. See, I don’t even know what normal brothers do to their younger sisters to be horrible. He has always been helpful, supportive, and loving. Now, more than anything, I want to tell him that. “Do you have siblings, Chris?” Rebecca asks. “Yeah, three sisters. One is three years older and two are younger. Rachel is the oldest, Emma is the first younger one, she must be 10 years old now, and Victoria is the youngest. Rachel used to torment me for being younger.” “Aw, I’m sorry!” Rebecca says. “Oh, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I tormented Emma all the time.” “What about Victoria?” Rebecca asks. “Victoria was barely a year old when I was brought here. I didn’t feel right being mean to someone so young.” “Wait, you mean they’re not with you now?” I ask. “Nope. I was sent here all by myself four years ago. My parents told me they brought only me here because I was too mean to my sisters, so they thought I should be separated from them. I 17 argued that it wasn’t fair because Rachel was mean to me all the time too, but they didn’t listen. Ever since I was born, my mom seemed to hate me. I asked my dad about it many times, and he’d tell me all she wanted were daughters, and by being born, I messed up that plan. Even though she tried to blame sending me away on my behavior, I knew she just hated me. Surprised she tried for another girl after me.” Chris says almost casually. “Best mother in the world, huh? At least my dad loved me, but he was too much of a coward to disagree with Mom, so here I am.” “Wow, I’m so sorry,” Rebecca and I say together. “Thanks, but don’t be. I’m better off without them.” “If you know your way out of this place, why don’t you leave?” I ask. “This place has been all I know for a good chunk of my life. I have friends here, I get to paint, and because of Valerie, I’m no longer being abused all the time, so this place kinda grows on you.” “But you aren’t curious about what else life has to offer?” “Not really. Besides, I’m 14. If I escaped, I’d be left on the streets. I’d have no idea what to do. The same could be said for a lot of the kids here.” I find it odd that Chris has resigned himself to this life. I’ve been here for far shorter than him, and I’m going crazy. “Did Valerie save you from your fear room too?” Rebecca asks. “Yeah. I was in disbelief at first by how much she had done all on her own to help us. So, I offered to help her monitor the security cameras. It’s another reason to stay too, you know?” “Wait, you help with the security cameras?” I ask. “Yeah, why?” “Valerie thinks the reason James was taken is because his camera feed was not false; that Rolojov saw James try to escape, and deemed him too smart to be kept alive, so he took him.” I say. “Really?” Chris says, his voice taking on a pitch a little higher than usual, “I’m not sure what would have caused that.” “You didn’t see or hear anything unusual?” “No, nothing. Sorry.” He sways in his seat slightly and looks down at the ground. I can’t help but feel like there’s something he’s neglecting to mention, but he probably feels bad that he didn’t see James’s camera malfunction, so I don’t press him. 18 The sun starts sinking below the horizon, creating a beautiful sunset. Orange, yellow, and pink blend together in the sky and it’s almost like I’m looking at a painting. I’m reminded of summer nights back home when I’d go night swimming in our pool in the backyard. I loved swimming on my backside, feeling the cool water on my skin while looking up at the stars. Pure comfort. Not a care in the world. I long for that now, as I’m so uncertain of my life now, or even if I’ll get to leave this place. My stomach growls and I realize I haven’t eaten since before we left for this “camp” this morning. Or at least I think it was this morning. I still have no idea how long I was drugged when the black masked men captured us. “I’m getting hungry,” I say. “Me too,” Rebecca agrees. “I hope Valerie finds James soon. It’ll get dark soon and much harder to see anything.” “Yeah,” Rebecca says, “do you think he could be alive? There’s still a possibility, right?” “Maybe,” I say, “but I-“ “Guys? Guys? Pick up your walkie-talkies!” It’s Valerie. Her tone is frantic. I quickly pick one up. “We’re here! What is it?” “My pilot, Louis, just had a stroke. He’s down, and I don’t know how to fly this thing. I think we’re gonna crash!” Oh God, oh God, oh God. “Okay, where are you?” “Erm, I don’t know! It’s just a bunch of trees around us! We flew over ocean earlier, though.” “Is there an autopilot option or something?” “Yes, I clicked it as soon as I noticed something off with Louis, but it must be faulty or something. We’re still flying, but every so often, the helicopter jerks out of control and changes direction.” “Okay, just hang tight. We’re going to find you, I promise!” I sound confident, but I’m far from it. Trees everywhere is not a very good description. No matter, I’m keeping my promise to Valerie. Her life, and possibly James’ hangs in the balance. Chapter 6 19 Several miles ahead lay a body of water that fills the earth for several more miles, but beyond it, very faintly, I can see trees. “Well, there’s water in front of us and I think I see trees past it too. I think that’s where we need to go.” I say. “And, what if you’re wrong?” Chris asks. “Do you see any other trees around? Even if I’m wrong, this is our best shot.” I try not to think about how cold the water will be as I begin towards it. I glance behind me, and no one is following me. “C’mon guys! I’m not doing this alone.” “I can’t go,” Rebecca says, “remember? I can’t swim.” “Oh, right, well-“ I hesitate. I still don’t fully trust Chris. He is helping us find our brother, for which I’m extremely grateful, but we have only known him a few hours. Do I want him to come with me? Yes. If anything happens to me, I’ll need someone to tell Rebecca. I walk back to where we were sitting and grab two walkie-talkies. “Keep your walkie-talkie close,” I tell Rebecca, “We’ll communicate through them. Let’s go, Chris.” I toss Chris a walkie-talkie and we start heading to the water again. I tell Chris he needs to find a way to keep his walkie-talkie from touching the water; that if it does, it’ll be useless, and I realize I’m going to have to figure something out too. We get to the shoreline, and I still haven’t figured out what to do with my radio. Chris jumps in the water seamlessly while keeping his arm that holds the radio out of the water. I decide that’s what I’ll do too. It will make swimming much harder and make me slower, but it’ll have to do. I don’t jump in the water like Chris did, though. I’m much too clumsy for that. Instead, I go in slowly like I used to do with our pool when it was too cold. When my feet touch the water, I shiver. Yikes. That’s like ice. I slowly force the rest of my body in the water all while taking caution to keep my left arm out of the water. I manage to pull it off and feel proud for a few seconds. Dread quickly replaces it, though, as I look at how far we have to go to reach the trees. We begin. Chris swims soundlessly beside me. After a bit, he attempts to make conversation. I oblige him because I appreciate his effort to keep this journey as amusing as possible, but eventually it grows silent, as not even Chris can ignore the situation we’re in. There’s nothing amusing about any of this. We’re not even halfway there and it’s completely dark. I look up in the sky and am grateful for the stars. They provide light, but also remind me of my nighttime swims again, which comforts me and even though I’m tired, the thought of home makes me keep on. 20 A few hours later, we’re about three-quarters of the way there in the dead of night. Chris has been beside me the whole time, and I almost forget he’s there until he stops. “What are you doing? Do you need a break?” “No, but you do.” “What-“ I start, but I don’t finish because Chris shoves my head in the water. With no time to hold my breath before going under, water quickly fills my lungs, and my chest starts convulsing. I try to fight his hand on my head, but he is very forceful and as my brain goes foggy, it’s easy to let go; all this swimming has made me so...very...tired. I suddenly feel more relaxed than ever. All the stress I’ve been feeling about James becomes insignificant to me, and I stop fighting. I know I’m dying; I’m being deprived of oxygen, but in this moment, I don’t care. My brain goes into a frenzy, producing stimulations, hallucinations, anything to keep me from losing consciousness. Quick images of my parents flash before my eyes, then Penny, a dog we owned when I was little before she ran away. Then comes a memory of James, Rebecca, and I laughing while goofing around playing video games, and it’s that memory that makes me want to fight again. I want to have that again. Who cares if I can never go home to my parents, I want to have fun with my siblings again, somehow. If I die, James will likely never be found, and no one will look after Rebecca. I muster all the energy I have to fight against Chris’s force. Miraculously, I’m able to pull my head out of the water. I cough out water and start gasping violently for air. Chris’s hand forces me down but I pull up again. I manage to get a few more breaths in, but still, he’s too strong for me. I go down, and I struggle to get out from under him. I realize I’ll never be up for long enough to do anything before he pushes me down again anyway. He’s trying to kill me, so to get him to stop, I have to play dead. I struggle for a few moments before I let my body go limp. A few more seconds go by. He still has a grip on me, and I start to panic. I’m convulsing again, but I’m willing myself to stay still. A few more seconds and I’m feeling the brain fog, but he lets go. I wait a little longer to seal the deal, then I pop up out of the water as fast as I can. Chris’s eyes widen in shock when he sees I’m alive. I grab his head and push it under the water. He fights me too, but I will never let go. As he struggles, I’m still coughing and my lungs burn, but it’s all the emotions I feel that threaten to overtake me. I’m murdering someone right now. Granted, he tried to kill me first, and I don’t even know why, but I feel wrong, horrible, despicable. I also feel a hint of satisfaction that I’m making him afraid like I was, which makes me feel even worse. The bottom line is that I can’t trust Chris. Even if I let him live now, there’s no guarantee he won’t try to kill me again. As the minutes pass, still forcing him under, I’m crying, and I keep reminding myself: I have to do this to survive. Ten minutes go by before I stop drowning him. He’s dead for sure. It’s such a shame too. He could have escaped with us, been our friends, and maybe even grown up with us. He could have made Rebecca happy too. I decide to lug him with me as I finish the journey to the trees. He may have been horrible, but he still deserves a proper burial. I finally get to the shore of the island and bury Chris by hand deep in sand. The sand is hard and cold. So very much unlike those fun summer days at the beach; the rare time when I didn’t mind 21 heat so much. I’d be sitting on a lawn chair, reading, feeling the warm soft sand in between my toes and laughing as I watch the sandcastle Rebecca spent the last hour sculpting get demolished in one second by an oncoming wave. She was never phased by it. She’d laugh with me, and simply start making another one. It’s the memory of her smile that gets me through burying Chris without throwing up or completely falling apart. After I bury Chris, I realize both our radios are gone. We must have dropped them during all the drowning. So much for trying to keep them from touching the water. Without communication, I’m completely alone and that scares me. I try to focus on Valerie to take my mind off of it. I look at the sky. It’s almost dawn, which means a lot of time has passed since Valerie first radioed us. I rip off a large portion of my shirt and tie it to the first tree I see. That way, when I find Valerie, I’ll know where I started and hopefully, I won’t get lost on my way back. I start walking. I wonder why Valerie didn’t contact us at all during the swim. Plenty of hours went by then with no word. Is it possible she crashed, making her in no state to talk? If that happened, I’m thinking she would have let us know she was crashing at least. Unless it happened so fast that she didn’t get a chance. Either way, I should look for her helicopter here in the forest as well as in the sky. As time ticks by, I become more impatient. Hunger and thirst just add to my irritability, and I decide that finding food and water should be my biggest concern. I don’t want my hunger to interfere with my rationality. The problem is, I don’t know how to hunt anything. Even if I did, I don’t have my cloth knife to kill anything anymore. I left it in the room where we met Valerie with the masked men. I also don’t know if I’ll find water that’s clean. I don’t know the difference between dirty and clean water unless it’s obvious. Maybe I can find some berries or something that will provide both hydration and sustenance. That’s all I can do. The sun is in the low in the sky now, which tells me it’s approaching night. I still haven’t found berries or water, and I’m scared to sleep. I have no idea where to sleep or how to keep warm. The days are hot, but nights are bitterly cold. I’m worried more about safety than comfort at this point, and if I just pick a spot in the middle of the forest, I’d be vulnerable to animals or people that could hurt me. I rip off another section of my shirt and tie it to a tree as another marker to guide me. As I tie, I think how odd it is that I haven’t met anything else here, and I hear something. It’s hard to make out, as it’s really faint. It almost sounds rhythmic. I look around, and see no one immediately nearby, but if I squint, I think I can see a bright orange-ish light in the distance through the trees. As the sun goes down, the light becomes clearer that I’m sure I’m not imagining it. I creep over to it as silently as I can. The closer I get, the louder the rhythmic sound becomes, and I realize it’s people chanting in some language I don’t understand. I hide behind a tree when I’m only a few feet away. I examine the scene. The light I saw is a campfire. Beyond the fire, a few feet to the left, lays a dirt road. The people chanting are wearing white robes with the same symbol I saw on the building in which we “camped,” printed in every crevice of the robes. Uh-oh. 22 The chanting people are circling a tree that something appears to be up against. Is it rope? I squint. I wish my eyesight was better. Why did my mom never get me glasses? Oh yeah. She was planning to send me to the camp as soon as possible; my well-being was never on her mind. I see the rope on the tree clearly, but there’s also a black blob next to the rope for some reason. I don’t understand what I’m looking at until the blob starts moving. That’s a person there! I need to get closer. I step out from behind my tree and sprint as fast as I can to the chant site. I run up next to the tree, but the person roped against it doesn’t see me; they are looking the other way. I tap them on the shoulder, and they jump. The person looks at me, and even through the darkness, I recognize the eyes looking into mine. “James?” He nods. “Oh, my gosh, you have no idea how happy I am to see you!” James puts his finger to his lips and looks frantically from me to the chanters. “Be quiet, Lia, don’t interrupt-” he stops. It’s dead silent. The chanting and circling has stopped and every chanter is looking directly at me. I’ve made a grave mistake. Chapter 7 As I set the radio down, I wonder if I did the right thing by contacting Amelia. Now that she, Rebecca, and Chris, are determined to help me, I may have put their lives at risk. Although, to be in my predicament and not say anything would be cruel, since they are expecting me back with James. The helicopter is spinning out of control now and the autopilot is rendered completely useless. I shove my guilty thoughts aside and consider my options. I look sadly at Louis, still lying lifelessly in his chair with his head flopping over every which way. I doubt he can be helped now. He’s been unconscious too long. He would know how to deal with this much better than I. I wish it was me unconscious instead. “I’m sorry,” I choke out. I give him a gentle kiss on the cheek, and whisper, “I love you.” I feel my eyes water, but I pull myself together. An alarm starts going off in the helicopter telling me we’re getting dangerously close to the ground. I’m running out of time. I stumble to the back of the helicopter and grab my parachute. I strap it on and jump out without hesitation. Skydiving doesn’t scare me. I’ve done it loads of times and it’s always been exhilarating. This time, however, I’m already a little too close to the ground for my liking and I am nervous. I open my parachute as soon as I jump out because it needs at least 600 feet to deploy, and I think I might be closer to the ground than that. A hard landing confirms my suspicions, and I’m sent tumbling to the ground when my legs can’t support my body upon impact. I fall to the ground on my stomach, and I hear something crinkle. I pray I landed on a leaf or something. I turn over on my back and one look at my left knee presents me with a big problem. It’s completely twisted the wrong way. I don’t feel any pain at the moment, but I’m assuming that is probably due to adrenaline and shock, and it’ll kick in soon. 23 * * * * * The chanters close in on me. I try to fight them off. One chanter pulls rope out of their robes and begins to tie me against the same tree to which James is tied. I fight the chanter’s hand, but more join to help him, so I don’t have a chance. I’m tied to the tree now with my arms twisted down so that my hands are touching the bark. Once the chanters double check my immobility, they begin chanting again. "What are you doing, here?” James whispers to me. “I wanted to rescue you.” James looks at me quizzically. "I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need your help.” “Are you kidding me?” I scoff, “What about this is fine to you?” “They’re not here to hurt me.” “But what about you getting drugged and waking up in a room, being tied by chain to the ceiling? That doesn’t scream danger to you?” I ask. “Drugged? What are you talking about?” “Don’t you remember? We all got drugged when we arrived at that “camp”, and each of us woke up in a room specifically tailored to torture us with our worst fears.” “Torture?” James looks genuinely horrified that I would say such a thing, “They’d never do that here! They just want to purify the world!” “I’m sorry-what?” Suddenly, James’s demeanor completely changes. His limbs go stiff and all the emotion he had on his face just a second earlier is wiped clean. When he speaks again, he sounds completely different, “As a collective, our goal is to satisfy the needs of our leader, Rolojov. Rolojov wants to cleanse the world of every child that shows potential for greatness. He should have no such competition. He will lead the world and be praised by everyone. With my help, and yours, Lia, we can make it happen.” The sound of the nickname my brother has for me, often used as a token of affection, now spoken in a voice so unlike his, makes me shiver. He blinks and shakes his head as if he is trying to rid his mind of an unpleasant thought. He looks around at the chanters and the rope tied to us, “Where are we?” he asks frantically. I don’t answer because truthfully, I have no idea, and I’m afraid to say anything to him. I don’t know how he’ll react. He’s got to be brainwashed or something, and I’ll bet anything it happened in his torture room. God, I wish Valerie were here. 24 * * * * * The pain is searing now, and I know I won’t be able to move anywhere unless I can get rid of it. Okay Valerie, I think. You can do this. One…two…three! I shift all my weight to one side while pushing my knee as hard as I can. My yells almost drown out the sound of my bones moving, but the instant relief I feel as the pain lessens tells me I did it right. My legs are weak, and the pain is still there, so it’s probably smart to go slowly, although that leaves me vulnerable. I get up gingerly and look around me. Trees are everywhere again, and it looks like I’m in a forest. I sigh in relief as I feel the gun in my pocket is still there. I pull it out and keep it close by my side as I start walking. Well...limping. It’s easy to shoot game as I walk. Rabbits and squirrels scurry along the forest floor without a care in the world; I’m guessing not many people come here, if any. As the day turns dark, with arms full of meat, I decide to rest and set up camp in the shade under a nearby tree. I know from being homeless that squirrel and rabbit are safe to eat raw, so I don’t bother to cook them. As I eat, I listen to the sounds of the forest. Crickets chirping in the night and wind blowing are both sounds that would bring me comfort in normal circumstances. Right now, though, I’m too preoccupied with survival to appreciate it. I’m thinking I’ll sleep in the trees tonight. They will protect me from other creatures and provide me with some muchneeded shelter. I examine the tree next to me. It looks tall, but sturdy. When I finish eating, I have some rabbit leftover. I stuff it in my pocket and climb the tree. When I get to the top, I curl myself into a ball and make myself as comfortable as I can. I close my eyes and try to block out the world. Amelia, Chris, and James are walking with me through a park and talking about school and friends. I’m really enjoying the conversation when suddenly, the whole environment changes to a desert. I get distracted by the change, and when I turn my attention back to the conversation, I realize Chris is gone. I look behind me and see him getting dragged on the sand by rope, but I can’t see who’s dragging him. He’s screaming my name, imploring me to help him. Amelia and James are yelling at me to help him too, but for some reason, I can’t move. Chris is pulled away for several agonizing minutes until he is consumed by a dust cloud and disappears completely from view. Then, quicksand materializes under James, and he gets sucked down immediately in the sand. Amelia, the only one left standing, is sobbing heavily. “What’s happening?” She squeaks, “why didn’t you help them?” “I don’t know. I’m stuck I-“ Before I can finish, Amelia catches on fire. She screams and all I can do is stand there and watch her die. Helpless. The fire stops eventually and Amelia’s burned body crumples to the ground. I’m all alone. I awake with a start; dried tears are stained on my face. Birds are singing and the sun is gleaming through the trees. It’s a beautiful morning. I wipe the remnants of my tears off my face and scan the forest for water. The height of the tree gives me an advantage; if there’s water anywhere in 25 this forest, I’ll be able to see it from here. Yes! I see three different ponds in a 50-mile radius; the closest one is probably 10 miles away. I grimace as I climb down my tree. I had almost forgotten about my knee injury. Once I reach the ground, I start walking again. The trek to the water takes me about three hours. In mid-afternoon, my mouth is incredibly dry and I’m sweating a lot. I’m very eager to drink when I get to the pond, but I take care to examine it first. It’s clear and doesn’t emit any odor, so it should be safe to drink. Back when I was homeless, I naively and desperately drank any water I could get my hands on. Some tasted metallic or looked less than appealing, and I contracted cholera and had diarrhea for weeks. Considering how often I drank questionable water, I’m lucky nothing worse happened to me. I cup my hands and scoop up the water. As soon as the water grazes my tongue, I feel much better. It tastes almost forbidden; like I shouldn’t be allowed to experience something so delicious. I splash some of the water on my face and take several more mouthfuls. I stop only once I feel I wouldn’t be able to drink more without bursting. I feel completely re-energized to focus all my attention on finding James. * * * * * “Where are we?” James asks again. I hesitate. “Why won’t you answer me?” He yells. “Do you know what you just said?” I ask. “No, what did I say?” “You went on a tangent, quite scarily, might I add, about how the leader of the camp basically wants to kill every child with talent! Apparently you support that too?” “What? No, that’s ridiculous! Why would I support that? “So you really don’t know where we are or how you got here?” I ask. “No! That’s what I’ve been saying! The last thing I remember is seeing you get dragged by a man in black somewhere. You were screaming. What happened?” “It’s a long story, but the same thing happened to you and I think that’s how you got here. I came to rescue you when I was lucid enough myself. As for where here is, I’m still not sure. I’m assuming the chanters are chanting about world purification or whatever, but I don’t know why they’ve got us tied up or what they’ll do to us!” “Well, if it’s like you said,” James shifts uncomfortably, “then they’re probably going to kill us. I mean, we’re both talented, right?” “With your trumpet, you are. What have I got?” “Have you heard yourself sing? Your voice is angelic!” 26 “Really? Angelic?” James nods proudly. “I brag about you all the time to my friends.” “James, I never knew! Thank you!” We look at each other for a while. My heart feels so full in this moment, that I’m willing it to last forever, willing us to be anywhere else because I know, soon, one way or another, we’re going to die. Chapter 8 The chanters begin closing in on us again, repeating the same nonsensical phrase over and over again. One chanter pulls out a large light blue pill from his robes and tries forcing it into James’s mouth. James makes a valiant effort to fight them, but it doesn’t matter. The tablet makes its way into his mouth and the effects are almost immediate. He becomes calm and collected. The head chanter hands James a knife and he cuts himself free from the rope. I watch him anxiously. He walks toward me with the knife and I fear the worst. “James, James, listen to me. I’m your sister, Amelia. You love me and I love you! You-you call me Lia!” “Lia?’ he says quietly. There’s a little emotion behind his eyes now. Which emotion, I don’t know, but it’s definite recognition of my words. “Yes! That’s me! You wouldn’t hurt me, right?” He slowly cuts the knife through the rope that is binding me to the tree. Breathlessly, I look at the rope and back up at James. The recognition in his eyes falter. “I have to. For the greater good.” “No! No! Wait, stop!” It happens so quickly. Insufferable pain shoots through my abdomen. I scream and fall to the ground. My vision blurs and all I know is pain. I see James stab himself as well and he stumbles to the ground. Then it’s over. * * * * * 27 I reach the end of the forest. All that greets me is sand and ocean. I’m confused. I couldn’t have walked through the entire forest. Yet, somehow, there is nowhere else to go. I turn around and notice something on a tree that I must have missed before: a large piece of cloth is tied to it. I walk over to the tree and examine it. It doesn’t look like anything out of nature that could be on a tree, so I allow myself to think that it may be a sign of Amelia and the others. I keep walking. I walk for hours and I don’t find another clothed tree. It’s dark now, and I begin to believe it was just an anomaly. I decide to set up camp for sleep and continue looking tomorrow. I climb up a nearby tree again. I’m about to settle in at the top when I see another cloth-tied tree in the distance; probably five miles away. Beyond that, is a campfire with people walking in a circle. Curiosity takes hold of me. I climb down my tree and walk to the second cloth tree. Upon examination, its cloth looks the same as the other. From here, I hear a sound coming from my left. I trud cautiously in the direction of the sound. As I get closer to the sound, I realize it’s coming from the campfire I saw at the top of my tree; people are chanting “Sacrifice for our great leader!” Over and over in Russian. I see the people are wearing robes with the symbol of the camp on them. It takes a second, but when I realize what all of this may indicate, I pull out my gun and run over to the site. The scene to which I arrive is horrific: Amelia and James are both turning over the fire like rotisserie chickens. Blood is dripping from their midsections and they are unconscious. They are going to be cooked alive, or more accurately, looking at their condition, half-way dead. I run to the center of the site. The chanters notice me, but given that I’m their “ally,” my presence does not alarm them. I take full advantage of this and begin open firing on the chanters. I’m able to kill ten of them before my ammo runs out. There’s still ten left, and after my shooting spree, I’ve blown my cover for sure. One chanter runs at me with a knife. I toss my gun aside. I dodge the chanter’s arm that is holding the knife and twist it, so it breaks. The chanter yelps in pain, and I take the knife from his crumpled arm. Next up to bat: a chanter that wears the same design on their robe, only the robe is black instead of white. New member, perhaps? I don’t have time to speculate because they come at me with their fists. I guess they don’t have a knife. I go for their gut, but they block my fist. They have a hold on my fist, but I am able to stab their face with my other arm holding the knife. Blood splatters everywhere, and they’re dead instantly. Number 3 comes up with their fists as well. Too easy. They are focused on my upper half, so I pull the unexpected and kick them square in the groin. Their knees buckle as they grunt in pain. On their knees, defenseless, I swiftly snap their neck. Another one down. I kill more chanters, one by one until I am faced with only one. Unlike the others, their face is completely concealed in a black mask. Their robes, more elegant, with softer fabric, and lace embroidering the symbol of the camp. This must be the leader. One sentence out of his mouth is confirmation: “I knew I couldn’t trust you” in Russian. It’s Rolojov. The moment to get my revenge has come, but I’m not as satisfied as I thought I would be. Probably because I would have liked my revenge to just be about me and him, but now, it’s about me, him, Rebecca, Amelia, and James. It is a lot of pressure. He has his own knife – it’s probably as big as a sword – but he tosses it aside. 28 “I will kill you with my bare hands,” he says as he takes off his mask. He motions his head toward the knife I’m holding. He wants me to drop it too. I do. I know I’m going to kill him, and when I do, I want no advantages over him. “We’ll see about that”, I reply. He yells angrily as he starts running towards me. As he gets close, he extends his fist out to my face, but I summersault in between his legs and stand up quickly. Before he registers that I’m no longer in front of him, I kick him in the head. He goes down, and I come down on my knees too. Boring over him, I punch him repeatedly, over and over again. I get about ten hits in, until on the eleventh, he grabs my punching arm with one hand, and twists it too far. I hear a crack and feel searing pain. Distracted by the pain, I don’t notice Rolojov get up again. He’s standing over me now, me still on my knees. I look up at him. He’s looking at me like a wolf looks at a flock of sheep. “Have fun in hell,” he says. “How can I, when you’ll be there?” I reply. He chuckles nastily. He retreats over to the sword he tossed aside earlier. I take advantage of his averted gaze and stand up. The pain in my leg and arm is significant, but I walk towards Rolojov as soundlessly as I can. I’m inches behind him as he reaches for his sword. He turns around, and before he can do anything, I clock him in the head with my head. Blood spouts from his head and mine and he drops his sword, stunned. I pick it up, and immediately stab him in his midsection. I keep the sword in him as long as I can as I revel in the satisfaction of seeing the life drain from him. I don’t mind so much that I’m using a weapon, not “playing fair” so to speak. He was going to use this on me, so in a way, it’s completely fair. This man will never harm anyone again. I pull the sword out of him. He falls to the ground. I wipe the blood off my hands on my trousers and use my shirt to wipe the blood off my head. Amelia and James are still unconscious turning over the fire. I run over to them, untie them from the rope binding them and carefully lift Amelia over the fire, and then James. My broken body wails at me as I lift them. As soon as they are safely away from the fire, laying on the ground, I check for pulses. They’re weak, but there. I sigh in relief, but my work is not done yet. They may be alive now, but only just, and I need to find help for them. I fish around in my jumper pocket for the phone I put in there in the helicopter. It’s still there. I pull it out, but its battery is low; 10%, and I cannot get a signal. With no time to think, I risk leaving James and Amelia alone as I try to find a portion of this forest that will give me a signal. I have to run two miles out to the island portion of the forest before I get anything, and even then, it’s only one bar. My phone is at 5% battery now. I have to be quick. I dial 911, and hold the phone to my ear, my breathing quick and ragged. “911, what’s your emergency?” I hear a young woman say to me through the phone. 29 “I’m trapped in a forest with two children who are barely alive. They’ve been stabbed in their abdomens and they’re unconscious.” “Do you know the location of the forest you’re in?” the operator asks. “Er, no not exactly.” “In that case, I’m going to need you to stay on the line for a few minutes while we track your location through your phone. Can you do that for me?” “Yes, but my battery is running really low. Please hurry.” “We’re going as fast as we can. I’m going to need you to stay calm, okay ma’am?” “Yeah,” I say breathlessly. The minutes crawl by as I wait in complete silence. Two minutes pass. Then five. How long does this normally take? About 10 minutes go by without another word from the operator, so I pull my phone away from my ear. It’s dead. I’m really panicking now. How long has it been dead? I may have just lost my only chance to save Amelia and James. My head throbs and I feel my mouth start to salivate. Bile rises in my throat and I throw up right there on the sand. Chapter 9 No pulse. I start chest compressions. “C’mon, Amelia!” I plead to no one, “You have to stay with me!” No one has come to help, and I’m convinced no one will. I have no idea if I’m doing the compressions right, but it has to be better than nothing. I keep at it. With each second that passes, I grow more worried. “You. Will. Not. Die!” I start compressing faster. Compulsively checking her carotid pulse with each compression. A few minutes pass, still no luck, and I stop. Something inside of me knows it’s over. I lay my head on her still chest, and let the sadness wash over me. Sobbing uncontrollably, I don’t even notice the red lights flashing… * * * * * 30 I wake up in a hospital. The walls of my room are a perfectly painted, but dull, shade of grey. For a minute, I’m confused. My midsection throbs, and suddenly, I’m no longer in the hospital. Instead, I’m in the forest. A fire is the only thing illuminating the starry night. I’m watching a scene unfold in front of me. I’m looking at myself talking to James. A loud high pitched ringing contaminates the scene and I can’t hear what I’m saying, but by the look on my face, I’m terrified and desperate. James is shaking a knife at me, and it doesn’t look like whatever I’m saying is getting through to him; his face is completely blank. Suddenly, I feel a debilitating sharp pain on my stomach as I watch James stab me. The pain brings me to my knees, and the wind is knocked out of me as I see James stab himself too. I’m left laying on the ground, struggling to breathe with my heart hammering against my chest. I’m back in the hospital, wheezing and coughing. A machine next to me is beeping and a group of doctors rush in my room saying something about my O2 stats. I’m floating in and out of consciousness. “…septic.” One voice says. “…OR now,” says another. * * * * * “Just so I have this right, James stabbed himself and Amelia at some point out in the forest?” Rebecca asks. “Yes, that’s right.” “And you have no idea why?” “No, but if I had to guess, James probably did it because he was being controlled by Rolojov somehow.” “They’re not going to die, are they?” “I told you, already, I don’t know!” I snap. Rebecca falls silent. I hate the anxiety and impatience I feel, but Rebecca probably feels worse. There are several solemn-faced people surrounding me probably waiting to see whether their daughters make it out of surgery, or whether their husbands have cancer. I feel removed from them. The story that got me here is one they’ll never understand. I’m not even related to Amelia and James. Yet, I’m here. Shame fills me. I don’t belong here. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just a lot,” I say. 31 “I know, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” She replies. A long-nosed man in red scrubs makes his way over to us. “James is stable. He just came out of surgery, so the anesthesia hasn’t worn off completely, but you’ll both be able to see and talk to him in a little while.” “Good, good,” I say. “What about Amelia?’ The doctor inhales sharply, “Amelia went into septic shock soon after arriving. The knife nicked her intestines, and when they started to bleed, caused an infection that led to the sepsis. She needs surgery and heavy antibiotics to treat it. If we don’t do the surgery soon, she will die. Are you a relative?” “Er...Yeah, yes.” “Name?” “Valerie Holland.” “Do I have your permission to proceed with the surgery, Ms. Holland?” “Yes, yes! Of course!” “Thank you, ma’am. Now,” he turns his attention from me to Rebecca. “the procedure can take anywhere from one to four hours, so I need you to be patient, okay? We have our very best nurses caring for her, and we’re going to do everything we can.” Rebecca swallows hard and nods. “Thank you, doctor.” I say. The doctor walks away. Rebecca rests her head on my shoulder, takes a deep sigh, and begins silently sobbing. I stroke her silky black hair and try to console her saying, “it’s going to be okay. I know it.” I look again at the people around me. Many are teary-eyed, shaking, and some are pacing around the room. Watching them gives me a new understanding: the circumstances that brought us here may differ, but one thing is for sure, we’re all feeling the same thing: fear. I put my arm around Rebecca. Holding each other, and crying, we wait. I go in to see James when the doctor says he is ready to talk. Despite being the oldest of the children, he looks so tiny in his bed. When he sees me, his brow furrows. “Who are you?” “My name is Valerie Holland. I’m a friend of your sisters.” “You know my sisters? Do you know where they are? Are they okay?” “Rebecca is fine. I had the ambulance that brought you here pick up Rebecca as soon as they dropped you off. She’s aware of our situation and in the hospital waiting room.” “Can I see her?” 32 “I asked if she wanted to come with me, but she said she wanted some time alone.” “Okay…why am I in the hospital?” “Well, er, because you’ve been stabbed.” “Stabbed? How?” “It-it was an accident, and unfortunately Amelia was stabbed too.” “No! Amelia? Are you sure?” I nod. “Is she alright?” “She’s in surgery now. We’ll know more when it’s over.” “Who was it?” “What?” “That stabbed us. Who was it?” “That…er, that is something you don’t need to worry about. Right now, you should focus on resting.” “No, really, tell me! I can take it! Who hurt my sister?” James is almost yelling at me. “Er-“ “You know! Why won’t you tell me?” The machine next to James’ bed begins to beep rapidly as James thrashes angrily in his bed. Doctors and nurses rush in to help. “We need some restraints for him and push 1 milligram of Versed for sedation,” a red-headed doctor says. “Ma’am, we’re going to need you to leave the room please,” says a nurse. I leave without hesitation. I caused James to freak out like that. My presence isn’t exactly helping matters. I make my way back to Rebecca and sit down in a chair next to her. “How are you doing?” I ask. “What do you think?” she replies miserably, “did you get to talk to James?” “I did. He was confused. He asked about you and Amelia. I told him everything.” “Everything?” “Well, no. Most of it. I couldn’t tell him that he stabbed himself and Amelia, could I? But he was demanding to know what happened. I told him not too worry about it, but he got all stressed and the doctors had to sedate him because his blood pressure spiked too high. What a world of good telling him not to worry did, eh?” Rebecca sighs heavily in response. I take her hand in mine and we wait some more. After about an hour, we finally hear more information from Long-nose. 33 “Good news!” He says, “Amelia is awake and eager for visitors.” “Really?” Rebecca and I say together. “Yeah, she keeps asking about James and she wants to see a Valerie and Rebecca.” For the first time in I don’t know how long, I’m smiling big. I look at Rebecca and she has one eyebrow raised playfully. “That’s us! Show us the way, doc!” I say. Long-nose chuckles. We follow him down a long hallway of patient rooms. When we enter Amelia’s room, her face lights up. “Hi guys!” she says dreamily. “She’s still a little loopy,” Long-nose says, “I’ll leave you guys to catch up. Just holler if you need me.” “Thank you.” I say. Rebecca walks up to Amelia’s bedside. “How are you?” She asks softly. “I feel good now, but I was stabbed, Rebecca, can you believe that? By James of all people!” she starts giggling which turns to full-blown laughter, “I mean, it’s ridiculous!” Rebecca’s giggling now too, and even I can’t help chuckling. She’s right, the whole situation is laughable. Maybe we’re all just hysterical. As the laughter dies down a little, Amelia asks a question I’m afraid to answer, “How is he? James?” “He was awake earlier and asking about you. I couldn’t tell him he stabbed you, but he could tell I knew something, and got frustrated that I wouldn’t tell him anything. He started thrashing in his bed, and nurses had to sedate him to calm him down. If I’m honest, I don’t know how to tell him.” “I’ll tell him,” Amelia says, “He’ll be shocked, but I think he’ll feel less guilty hearing it from me, and knowing that I’m alright might bring him comfort.” “Are you sure?” I ask. “Positive.” Long-nose agreed to waking up James and moving Amelia over to James’ room so they can talk. Rebecca went with her, but he recommended that I stay behind as my presence might provoke him again. I agreed and stayed put in Amelia’s room to wait. About twenty minutes later, Rebecca wheels Amelia back into her room. “How did it go?” I ask. “It was tough. He couldn’t believe he stabbed me. The fact that he could be controlled so strongly like that scared him. He apologized profusely and I kept saying it’s alright, that it wasn’t his fault. We talked more after that about happier things and he calmed down a bit.” 34 “Good.” Just then, Long-nose walks in our room and tells us Amelia and James are fit for discharge, but that their medical records have gaps in them. “Amelia, do you mind if I steal Ms. Holland away for a moment?” “No, of course,” she says. “We’ll be back in a jiffy!” Long-nose says cheerfully. He closes the curtain dividing Amelia’s room from the rest of the hospital and the cheer is gone. “How’s your arm?” I look down at my cast. “There’s still a little pain, but I feel much better, thank you.” “Are you sure you don’t want your own room? It’d be easier for me to check in on you and your arm.” “No, no, I’m fine. I have to be around for the kids.” “Okay. If you’re sure. He pauses slightly, “speaking of them, their parents-?” “Dead.” I say. “So, who has been taking care of them?” “Me, I-I have.” I hope he doesn’t notice the beads of sweat forming on my forehead; I've never been good at lying. “Really? They have no other family to care for them?” “No-er, both of their parents were only children.” “Do you have custody over the children?” “No, but before they died, their parents asked me to be their Godparent.” “I’m going to need a copy of their will for confirmation.” “Er-that won’t be possible.” “Oh?” “They died young and suddenly in a car crash; they were the kind of people that lived in the moment. They never wrote a will.” “Do you have proof of their death, like a death certificate, anything at all?” I look down at my hands, and sigh heavily, before forcing out a defeated: “No.” “I’m sorry, but in that case, you do not have the right to take care of them, and I’m legally obligated to place them in foster care, or at least Rebecca and Amelia. James will have to go to a 35 Transitional Housing Facility given his age. If you want to be able to take care of them, you’ll need to go to court and gain custody. Unfortunately though, with the little information you’ve provided and no evidence that their parents are deceased, other than your word, you have a very small chance of success.” Just as well, I think. The only way I’d be able to care for them is if I take them back to the camp with me. I still need to look after the other children there. I’ve been away too long already. I hope they’ve been safe without me. “So, they’ll be separated?” I ask, “can’t James take guardianship over his sisters, since he is eighteen?” “He can, but it’s the same deal.” He presses his lips together and shakes his head sympathetically before continuing, “he’ll need to recover first and foremost, and then he'll have to go to court, and it’ll be a long process. I don’t recommend it.” “I just wish there was something more I could do!” “I know, but through the intestate succession laws, James should be inheriting his third of the parents’ estate soon. As soon as Amelia and Rebecca turn 18, they’ll be inheriting theirs too, and they’ll be able to support themselves by then. That’s good news, right?” “Sure,” I say, knowing full-well there is no estate to inherit. They’ll be on their own for the foreseeable future. They’ll have to wait until someone wants to adopt them, and not many people are interested in adopting teenagers. “Would you like me to explain all this to them as well?” He asks. “No, they should hear it from me.” The doctor nods and slides the dividing curtain open again. “You’re right, that was a jiffy!” Amelia smiles. I sit down at the edge of Amelia’s bed. Her smile falters as she studies my face. “What’s up?” she asks. I don’t know where to start. Looking at her, it’s hard to remember, what with all the trauma that has aged her, that she is only 16. This makes the burden of my news so much harder to bear. I savor looking into her big, brown, unknowing eyes for as long as I can. To give her just a few more seconds of childhood. Chapter 10 Foster care. I can’t think right now. Just a few days ago, I was reading in my room without a care in the world! Now, I have no room. No house. I don’t have anything. Rebecca is sitting in a chair near the edge of my hospital bed, and I realize James is in my room now too, laying in his bed next to mine. I don’t remember when he was brought in here. Valerie 36 is saying something about our case managers coming soon, but I’m not listening. It seems like my life is over, but I feel nothing. I have no thoughts and no feelings. It doesn’t even seem real. Me? A foster child? No. Never. They must mean someone else. …"Goodbye, guys, it’s been a pleasure to be your friend. I’m going to miss you all so much.” Everyone is crying, but I don’t know why. We’re not going anywhere. “Where will you go?” Rebecca asks, sniffling. “I’m going back to the camp. The children need me there.” “Okay. Hey, maybe you can get all those children in foster care too?” Rebecca asks. “Someday, maybe,” Valerie replies. She walks around the room and gives us all hugs individually, “And hey, when you all get out, call me. We can have lunch or something. Deal?” She holds out a hand to James. “Deal.” James says weakly while shaking her hand. Rebecca nods while blowing her nose. I stay silent. “Amelia? What d’you say?” Valerie asks me. “I won’t go.” “Amelia, you have to. It’s the only way to stay safe.” “No, I won’t. I won’t, you can’t make me!” And suddenly, I burst into tears, and I just want everything to stop. Valerie sits next to me and strokes my hair with her hand. “Shh, it’s okay, it’ll be okay,” she whispers, “breathe, just breathe. In and out. In and out.” I calm down a little, still crying, but not as violently. Valerie continues, “You will survive this. It will suck, but just like everything else, you’ll push through. Just treat it like any other challenge. That’s all it is.” “Yeah, right,” I laugh ruefully through tears. “And, when you do inevitability make it through, it’ll feel so good. Trust me, I know.” “But, I don’t want you to go!” I say, before realizing how childish it sounds. “I know. I don’t want to go either, but you know how important my job is, and I will visit you as much as they’ll let me. We’ll figure out a way to keep in touch, too.” Just then, three people, one bald black man and two blonde-haired women open the dividing curtain to my room. They are wearing black jackets with the words, “Building Bridges” in big white letters. Underneath in a smaller font, reads, “Foster Family Agency”. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time, they need to come with us now,” one of the blonde women says. 37 They wheel me out of my room with Rebecca trailing behind. I see more unfamiliar adults walk by me as I go. They are wearing black jackets too, but instead of the words “Building Bridges” on their jackets, the abbreviation, “T.H.F.” is embroidered in red. It’s probably the Transitional Housing Facility for James. All the while, I hear Valerie calling out to us. I can tell she has started crying again, but her voice still cuts through the rest of the noise in the hospital. “Call me, don’t forget!” That’s one thing I know I can count on through everything. For better or for worse, I’ll never forget. Epilogue I wake up to the smell of bacon cooking downstairs. Bless you, Mom. I smile to myself. The early-morning sun is peaking through the curtain in my window. I’m taking it as a good sign. Today’s a big day. I head downstairs and find the TV on playing the news channel while Mom is cooking waffles and pancakes in addition to the bacon. “Aw, mom! You didn’t have to do this!” I say delighted. “Oh, yes, I did. You’re finally going to get to see your siblings and Valerie again. I’m afraid you’ll want to leave me at the sight of them. So, I thought I’d do something I know will have you coming back to me,” she teases. “You know I will never, ever leave you. Even when I move out and find my own place, I’ll make sure it’s no more than five minutes away.” She smiles, “that’s my girl.” I help Mom set the table as she serves us breakfast. She sits down across from me and I dig in. “Where’s Dad?” I ask in between mouthfuls. “Oh, he had to go in early to work today. Not sure why. He was grumbling all morning before he left, so I didn’t want to press him about it.” “Smart.” I say. Mom and Dad are older. They like to watch the news and they become more exasperated over things quickly. Dad always grumbles about still having to work at 65 years old, and as much as she tries to hide it, I can tell Mom’s out of breath just from cooking breakfast. They adopted me soon after I turned 17; it was kind of like a late birthday present. I had just been moved to a new foster care facility after being at the first one for about a year. It was just me at that point; Rebecca was adopted about six months earlier by a couple that had recently lost their teenage daughter to cancer, so they wanted another, healthy one, to try again. I’m not sure how they were 38 allowed to adopt Rebecca; that doesn’t really scream “good parents”, but last I heard, she’s doing well, and that’s all that matters to me. Last I heard, James was working two jobs in an effort to buy his own house and move out as soon as possible. I’m not sure what his living situation is – I haven’t seen him since our discharge from the hospital; he didn’t go into foster care like Rebecca and I – but I guess I’ll find out today. As for me, my parents kept trying over and over to have a baby of their own to no avail, so finally, they decided to adopt. They thought they were too old to take care of a younger kid, so they got me, and I couldn’t be happier. “So, when you guys meet up today, it’ll be the first time you see each other in what, three years?” Mom asks. “Yeah,” I say. “Are you nervous?” “Definitely, but more excited than anything.” “Good,” Mom says, “you should be.” Something on the TV catches my eye, and I drop my fork and almost gag on my waffle. It’s the camp. The camp is on the news. “Mom, look!” I point to the TV facing me. Mom has to turn around to see it. “Oh, my,” she says. “Can you turn it up?” Mom gets up and grabs the remote sitting on the kitchen counter. I listen hard like my life depends on it. …"Local woman, choosing to stay anonymous, has saved about five dozen children from a sextrafficking ring. Officials say the ring had been operating for over 25 years before the one man responsible mysteriously died three years ago. Police have yet to find the body to identify the man and cause of death. The children saved were placed in foster care facilities throughout the country, now awaiting new homes.” She did it. She actually did it. Rebecca will be so happy. I can’t wait to see what Valerie will say, to see the look on her face. 39