been killed? I’m so stupid, so stupid.
They place me in a chair and wrap metal restraints around my neck, wrists, waist and ankles. I shut up immediately. When I’m sure they’re nowhere near me, I wrench my eyes open. They widen in shock at what I see, and my heart pounds. This can’t be real.
11
Leaving the shop’s storage room and seeing sunlight for the first time in two days feels strange but I need to get away from that incriminating GoTo. I wished it hadn’t cut out before the end of the meeting. I need to know more about the vessel snatchers. Both the government and the black market variety. So far I know the government makes money from it which probably goes towards the sector’s security, and the people are transformed into the obedient, robotic slaves, maids, servants and cooks that the rich have become accustomed to. I had five, why did I never question where they had come from or why I didn’t have to pay them after I had auctioned for them?
I want to know why Thomas was taken and where he is. If I can get my old life back I’ll have the money to look for him, to buy him from someone else if I have to. I get home and try to work out what I should do. I could be purposefully caught by the vessel snatchers. I could go in, get my story, save Thomas and share my experience, but that would be pointless and risky as no news station would play an anti-government piece.
What I need to do is make Clark tell me all about the vessel snatchers. If I can find a way to –
Was that knocking? No one knocks on my door. I don’t know anyone that would want to visit me. I get up from my bed and hurry downstairs. Could it be Clark? Surely not the rich sector’s guards, they wouldn’t care that much. I open my door and immediately regret it. I slam it and push a table against the door, sprinting upstairs and searching desperately for somewhere to hide. I go into the bedroom and hide in the cupboard. They search downstairs for a while, and I hear crashes and smashes as they break my house. I bite on my shirt to stop myself from breathing so loudly. Their calm footsteps climb the stairs, and I hear them enter the bedroom.
“-because if we don’t bring her back, he’s not going to be happy. If she’s jumped out the window there’s no way we’ll find her though. I can’t even remember what she looks like now.” One of them says gruffly to the other. I curse myself for being too scared for the thought of escaping to even pop into my brain. They shove my bed aside and I think they haven’t noticed the built in cupboard. I pray as their footsteps walk out.
“Wait a second...” One of them mutters. “Did you check that cupboard?”
“No.” The other grunts. My heart sinks. He opens the cupboard door, knife glinting in his hand. “Hello, princess. You’re about to make me some good money.” He smirks and I see his yellowing teeth, smell his rancid breath. He grabs my hair and yanks it hard so I have no choice but to follow him. Out of the house he keeps me shuffling behind, crying in pain, begging for him to let me go. He doesn’t and I’m forced to go with them into an unmarked hover car, not knowing whether I’ll live or die.
12
It’s Thomas. The man from my memories. Sat in front of me. In that minute I know nothing but Thomas. How did he get here? He looks the same as from my memories, but a bit thinner. He’s strapped to a chair just like me. I feel nothing but love for him and everything comes rushing back. The thrill of our first kiss, the first day he moved into my house, when I realised I was pregnant, the heartache of losing our baby.
“Thomas.” I gasp, the adoration evident. Thomas meets my gaze and obviously doesn’t recognise me, his eyebrows lowering. “Thomas! Don’t you remember? It’s me, Lydia!”
“I know who you are.” Thomas’s voice suddenly clicks into place. I’d forgotten it; it’s been so long since we talked. His face is ashen as he realises all of the memories I’ve told him from my past are with him. He has a name, a past and he almost had a family. I don’t think his memory has returned but now I’m twice as afraid that they’ll do anything to him because then I’ll lose Obby and Thomas.
“Obby?” This can’t be coincidence. Turning to them and suddenly not caring if I live or die, I scream, “Why are we here?”
“For entertainment and for parts.” One of them turns and stares at me with piercing blue eyes. He says it very matter of fact, like we are cars. My blood runs cold. I realise the room we’re in is full of metal medical instruments, most of them rusty or covered in blood. The walls are splattered with it. There’s an operating table with yet more restraints.
A guard runs in, panting heavily. “Emergency... in section... four. Attempted... break out.”
I look at Thomas/Obby. His shining eyes are full of hope. All but one sprint to section four, and the remaining one comes and rattles our restraints to make sure they are properly attached before running to help. We’re alone.
“I’m double jointed.” Thomas hurriedly tells me, bending and disjointing his hand until it fits through the wrist restraint. He frees both hands and reaches for a clamp to snap his chains, freeing himself before he can come and help me out. Time’s limited but I plant a passionate kiss onto his lips.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” I smile. It’s a small second of happiness we share before we hear people coming closer. “Hide!”
I turn and dive behind a metal chest of drawers, hoping against hope that I’m not visible.
“They sent me a TT. There’s supposed to be two vessels in here.” Vessels. The word is so heartless and cold.
“Quick scout.” The other orders and they begin searching. I’m reminded of being stuck in the cupboard, waiting to be found. There’s no hope for me. He spots me straight away.
“You! I have a good mind to kill you right now, if you weren’t worth so much. You’re coming with me.” He grabs a handful of my hair and I cry out and make as much of a ruckus as possible, determined not to let them find Thomas and for them to concentrate just on me. As I’m preparing to die, he lets go of my hair and I hit the ground with my face, hard enough to make me see stars. A scuffle breaks out just in front of my blurry vision. One man collapses. Another collapses. I hazily wait for someone to kill me, but instead I’m helped up and slapped gently on the face until my vision returns.
“I... I killed them. With a scalpel. Come on, let’s go.” He puts an arm around me to help me walk out, but I stop him.
“Uniforms.” My voice slurs like I’m drunk. It takes him a second to realise.
A few minutes later, we look like fully fledged guards. Trying to appear realistic, we run together as far away from the torture room as possible, both of us hoping there are female guards too because we haven’t seen any. There are a few guards running with purpose, so we follow them for a while. This could really work.
“Halt! What are you doing up here?” A guard spits at me.
“There’s an emergency in section four. All hands on deck, no exceptions.” I lie easily. My career has given me years of experience at pretending to be someone I’m not and lying through my teeth to most people. They have the same kind of speech as the guards that police the rich sector’s streets, and in the past I’ve interviewed a fair few of those.
“Ah, my GoTo must be faulty as I haven’t received that TT yet. My apologies.” The guard nods and continues on his way. We breathe a sigh of relief. We have no idea where the exit is, so at a point of forked corridors we choose the one no one else is travelling in so we have a chance of escape. The further from section four we are the better. More and more windows are placed in the corridors this way and the sunlight streaming through gives me hope. Judging by the view from the windows, we’re about a floor off the ground.
Seeing the outdoors makes me excited to go back to my old life. To sell my story and buy a big house for me and Thomas. We’ll be able to have medical treatment to have our perfect baby. Less guards are this way, and we feel glad. There’s a door. A thick, metal door that looks like it leads outdoors. But there’s a guard standing there. I recognise him. It seems like someone I haven’t seen in a while. I wonde
r if I know him well enough to charm us out of here. If not, we can turn back and try a different way. Hope has made my confidence soar.
“Play along.” I mutter to Thomas, and walk a few steps ahead of him. “TT said all hands on deck, what’re you still doing here?” I growl at the guard, who flicks his eyes lazily to me.
“Sorry! I didn’t get the TT.” The guard really does look familiar.
“What are you waiting for? Step to, guard!” I roar.
“No, I mean I didn’t get the TT that said vessels are allowed to dress up as guards.” His lips turn upwards in what I think is a smile, but it holds far too much hatred. “Recognise me, princess?”
I try to grab my laser gun but he has his ready and points it at my head. Thomas freezes with his gun, knowing he can’t do anything.
“Lawrence. What are you doing here?” Maybe if I can keep my ex-boss talking another guard will walk past and wonder why we’re being threatened. But, they’re all in section four. We could be waiting hours before anyone arrives.
“Waiting for you to try and leave. Do you know how much money the news at five lost after you left? Investigations were carried out and we lost billions. I have nothing. I’m about to move to the poor sector. How does that feel, princess?” His eyes are aflame and contain a terrifying amount
Vessels of Existence Page 4