by J Gaines
“It doesn’t look good though,” added Xavier.
John leaned forward. “Whoever it is, it won’t be long before they locate this base. We need to make provision to leave or make a final stand here. If Kaden were to attack with his full force we couldn’t withstand it. If he does have help from Victor or another of the altéré then we have no chance. It’s my recommendation we leave and break into smaller groups. That way we’re harder to locate and eliminate. Others disagree…”
Xavier turned to him. “As I have already said, we’re strong together. It doesn’t make sense to split up.”
“We can still be together, but this will allow us more security, and more flexibility over our movements,” replied John.
Amias stood up suddenly, unwilling and emotionally unable to be involved in this conversation. “This is for you to decide. But know that you have my full support, whatever it is you agree to do.”
John remained seated but nodded. “That’s good to hear. Please though, sit down, we have something else we need to discuss with you.” Amias tried to read Olivia and Xavier’s faces as he took his seat again, wondering what other news they had for him.
“What is it?”
John hesitated, and Amias could see he was struggling to find the right words. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.” He huffed suddenly and shook his head as if angry with himself. “It’s…” He huffed again and was about to continue when Olivia interrupted him.
“It’s Jasmine, Amias. She’s alive.” Even though he was seated, Amias felt as if his feet had been taken out from underneath him and he leaned forward in his chair to regain his composure. He looked at the calm, sad face of Olivia, unsure of how to reply and how to process what he’d just been told.
John sighed in relief. “That’s right. She’s alive, and she’s here at the base.” The three of them watched Amias carefully, unsure of how he was going to react. He was still finding it hard to retrieve the words he needed. Ask them how. Ask them if she’s okay. Ask them if she’s asked for me. His heart was beating so hard he was sure they would be able to see it through his filthy t-shirt. He continued to search for the right thing to say, but suddenly felt he didn’t need to know more, as if anything else wouldn’t be good enough to hear. Jasmine was alive, and that was everything. He heard someone say his name but wasn’t sure who. They repeated it and he looked up; for an instant he saw Jasmine sitting opposite him and shook his head.
“Amias. Are you okay?” repeated Olivia softly.
Amias got up. “Where is she?”
John also stood up. “Amias, wait. We need to talk to you before you see her.”
“Why?” replied Amias.
John hesitated again, and Olivia gave the answer he was struggling to verbalise. “She doesn’t remember you, Amias. We think she’s suffering from amnesia, or something similar. She’s okay physically, but mentally she’s severely struggling. We’ve had to contain her–”
Amias interrupted angrily. “What do you mean, contain her?”
John held out his hands. “Please, you need to listen to us. It’s for her own good, she was a danger to herself. We found her outside the gates, two days after you were captured. She attacked a guard and tried to escape. At first, we thought it was one of Kaden’s people, and that he’d discovered our location. But when she was brought to us, I recognised her. Olivia verified her identity and there was no doubt, it was Jasmine. She still has the scar you told me about from her fight with Kaden the night she…” he paused, as if still unable to believe she was alive, “she was lost.”
Amias turned to Olivia. “She doesn’t remember you?”
“No, not at the moment. But I’m still the only person she’s communicated with in any way. Initially, we thought she’d lost all control of her ability to communicate, but she can talk. She’s in there somewhere, and I think somehow she remembers me. Possibly she’s just unable to process what’s happening. We’ve had to put her in a cell, but since then, she’s been calmer, more at ease. It’s as if she wanted to be confined.”
“And you say that was for her own good?” Amias turned to John angrily, but John looked at him resolutely.
“I won’t lie to you. The thought has crossed my mind that this is somehow one of Kaden’s tricks. An attempt to put someone on the inside. Of all the places in the world, how is it she found her way here?” Amias turned away from him angrily and he raised his voice. “Do you blame me?” Amias stopped. “The last time you saw her, you found out she’d been lying to you the whole time she’d known you. I know in the end she fought against Kaden, but is it really beyond belief that somehow he’s got to her again? That he’s manipulating an injured person who doesn’t know her own mind?”
“We’ll find out,” replied Amias without turning. John shouted his name as he pushed open the office door and strode down the corridor towards the prisoner block.
Chapter 16
As he strode down the corridors of the facility he was desperately trying to come to terms with the news Jasmine was alive. He knew he had to see her straight away, but he also knew it probably wasn’t the most sensible thing to do. He was still dressed in most of the clothes he’d been captured in, and he hadn’t slept properly for days. The last time he’d seen Jasmine, Kaden had dropped her off the top of a skyscraper. He remembered the despair he’d felt as he saw Kaden’s hand open and Jasmine slipping from his grasp. He’d relived the moment many times in his nightmares, and Jasmine had always turned her head to look at him before she was lost. He wasn’t sure if she’d actually turned to him or not, but the image was burned into his memory. He increased his pace as he realised the memory could now be replaced. For the past fourteen months, he’d told himself he would give anything to see her brown eyes again, and now that it was a reality, he couldn’t rest until he had.
As he walked he considered John’s warning, and knew he was right. It was a real possibility Kaden had somehow orchestrated Jasmine’s reappearance. Although the excitement at the thought of seeing her was coursing through his body, he couldn’t suppress the hurt that had been left unresolved, the irreparable damage of finding out she’d lied to him. He was still haunted by Kaden’s laugh when he’d realised there were feelings between Amias and Jasmine, a laugh that had turned to anger when he saw just how deep the feelings ran. Kaden had inflicted a deep scar on Jasmine’s face that night, and then inflicted an even bigger one on Amias’s soul.
He suddenly stopped in the empty corridor; with every second that passed, doubt was pouring into his mind. He twisted around and looked at his reflection in a nearby window. He walked closer and ran his fingers through his curly hair, holding it back as he looked at his eyes, before his gaze dropped to his filthy torso and jeans. Whether or not Jasmine was suffering from amnesia, he doubted if she’d have recognised him anyway. He placed his head against the window and gritted his teeth. Tears filled his eyes once more, and he felt a familiar despair and emptiness. Now that he was alone and thinking more clearly, he regretted his hasty exit from John’s office. He really needed the council of someone. Should he seek out Mia before seeing Jasmine? He knocked his forehead distractedly against the window, until he heard voices; a man and a woman were walking towards him, deep in conversation. They eyed him nervously as they approached and slowly edged to one side of the corridor. Amias noticed their shift in direction and suddenly made up his mind.
“David! I need your help… and your shirt.”
The couple stopped, and David placed his hand protectively on his blue, short-sleeved shirt. Before he could reply Amias pulled off his t-shirt, ignoring the woman’s blushes, and threw it to David.
“You can have mine. Also… I need your trousers.”
David held the dirty t-shirt and turned it over in his hands. Amias pulled off his jeans and threw them onto the floor, wagging his fingers as he waited impatiently. David began to tenta
tively unbutton his shirt, before passing it reluctantly over; he put on his jacket before turning and slowly pulling off his trousers. Amias took them and quickly pulled them on before turning and striding off towards where Jasmine was being held. He painfully threw his arms into the sleeves and shouted his thanks over his shoulder.
He felt a little more confident now and attempted to play out their potential meeting in his head. There were several ways it could go, and he was almost certain most of them weren’t positive. Suddenly, he turned on his heels and walked in the opposite direction, only to turn back again. The conflict was growing inside him, but he knew that if he didn’t confront Jasmine, he would stay in the same water he’d been treading for the last fourteen months. There was no worthwhile advice anybody could give him now. It’s sink or swim. Distractedly, he buttoned his shirt and slammed himself against the door to the courtyard outside. It flew open and he broke into a jog and then a run. It was raining heavily and nearly dark; as he turned the corner to the prison block he was surprised to find a line of armed guards waiting outside the entrance. They had large automatic weapons that were strapped across their shoulders.
One of the guards he didn’t recognise approached him with a stern look on his face. “I’m sorry, Amias. John has given us orders not to let you visit the prisoners tonight. You need to turn around.”
Amias looked down at his new shirt and trousers as they began to soak up the rain. “We’re all getting wet out here. Let’s go inside and talk about this, I don’t want to ruin this shirt. It’s new, you see?”
As the guard dropped his eyes to his shirt, Amias grabbed his gun and expertly disarmed him, throwing him to the ground as he did so. He threw away the weapon as another guard ran towards him, pulling out a baton that he flicked out to fully extend, before whipping it towards Amias’s knees. It whistled through thin air as Amias flipped backwards into the path of another guard, who also pulled his baton and swung it at Amias’s unprotected head. Amias leaned back and let it sweep narrowly above his face. He turned in an instant, and as the guard swung again, this time he caught it and pulled the man towards him. Using him as a protective barrier, he parried attacks using the guard’s arm still holding the baton, sometimes letting the occasional strike hit its unintended target. The guard cried out in pain before Amias ripped the baton from him and pushed him forwards into his attacker. They fell in a heap and Amias dropped the baton and faced the others who’d drawn their weapons; as he walked towards them, he sensed their uncertainty. He’d forgotten the pain in his shoulder but now it throbbed agonisingly. He’d almost reached them when another man ran towards them with his hands held in the air. “Lower your weapons! Lower them now!”
Amias turned to see Russ, the guard who’d previously allowed him to enter the prison. There was a moment of hesitation, and Russ repeated his order, slowly walking in between Amias and his men. Finally, the guards lowered their weapons and Russ turned to Amias. “If John wants to stop you getting in… I can see he’s going to need to do it himself. There doesn’t need to be bloodshed between us.”
Amias smiled at him. “There wouldn’t have been bloodshed, I promise you.” He shrugged. “Headaches and broken bones, maybe.”
Russ returned his smile and nodded. “Follow me.” The other guards held their positions and watched as Russ led Amias towards the entrance to the prison block. It was still raining heavily, and Amias’s newly acquired shirt was drenched; it clung to his body and he pulled it away from his skin and tried to make himself look more presentable.
Russ turned to him and smirked as they reached the door. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a shirt before.”
Amias gritted his teeth. “A friend gave it to me.”
Russ waited by the door until it was unlocked, and then walked through and beckoned for Amias to follow. There were more guards than before, and they were all armed. John obviously felt more uncomfortable than he’d let on at having Jasmine in the facility. As Amias followed Russ down a corridor and stopped at another locked door, he realised he’d been here before. He heard the door unlock and shook his head as he realised where Jasmine was being held.
“She’s through there, Amias. She’s cell mates with your friend Max, although they’re not a talkative pair. And that’s not for want of trying from your man.” Russ nodded at the camera, which showed Max doing press-ups in his cell. Amias didn’t reply; his eyes were drawn to the other monitor.
“Are you okay?” asked Russ. “Amias?” He raised his voice. Again, Amias didn’t reply, giving only the slightest nod of agreement. Russ laid a hand on Amias’s shoulder. “We’re here if you need us.”
Amias was aware he’d said something, and he felt the touch of his hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He hesitated as he looked at the monitor. There was something inside him that still doubted whether it really was Jasmine waiting behind the closed door. He had to find out, he had to see her for himself. He had to let her see him. He walked to the door and then stopped. “Can she be let out of her cell into this room?”
“No. And I don’t think you’d want her released, she’s not taken kindly to anyone who’s encountered her. She wants to be in there.”
“Who would want to be in one of those cells?” replied Amias.
“Someone who’s lost, maybe?” answered Russ.
Amias didn’t reply. He pushed open the door and walked into the room that he’d recently visited. Max was now standing with his hands on the window of the first cell, anticipating someone’s entrance. He didn’t look surprised to see Amias and he smiled broadly.
“I wondered how long it would take you to come down and see me again.” He laughed loudly, and the laugh echoed around his cell and the small room Amias was now in.
The door closed behind Amias and he walked slowly past Max, ignoring him as he approached the next cell. As the window came into view, he deliberately distanced himself from it, stepping sideways and turning his head to see Jasmine. She was sitting on her bed with her back to the glass, reading a book, but he was unable to see which one. He remembered a time when he’d loved to read, and suddenly realised he hadn’t read a book since he’d lost her. She was wearing a t-shirt and joggers and no shoes, and she hugged her knees as she read, leaning the book on the top of them. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a rough ponytail. His eyes lingered on the slender beauty of her neck, her olive skin disappearing into her hair and t-shirt. He took an involuntary step forward and was about to step back again when he noticed Max was leaning on the glass and watching him.
“Don’t get too close, Amias. She’s much more dangerous than she looks.”
Amias didn’t answer. He was battling with a choice he never thought he would need to make again: a choice that should be simple, but was becoming harder with every moment. Say her name.
“She’s not Jasmine anymore, Amias.” It was as if Max had read his mind. “I’ve tried talking to her, but she hasn’t answered me once; it’s like she doesn’t even know I’m here. We’ve met a few times before, she definitely knows me.”
Again, Amias ignored him. His eyes were fixed on Jasmine’s every move; no matter how small or insignificant, every twitch and movement mattered to him. He felt as if he could stand and watch her for hours without saying her name. Say it.
“Wow! I bet this is a real trip for you, Amias. She turns up over a year after you think she’s been killed, and then you can’t even talk to her?” Max paused for a moment as he inspected Amias carefully. “You’re hurt, what happened?” Amias ignored him again, and he shook his head, seemingly ignorant to Amias’s lack of interaction. “Shoulder! It’s your shoulder… and it looks like a gunshot wound to me. I bet that slowed you down. Who was it, Kaden or Andre?”
Amias’s couldn’t help but acknowledge the sound of Kaden’s name as his eyes flicked momentarily to look at Max. He regretted it instantly, as Max laughed loudly. “You’ve se
en him recently! Did he ask after me?” He couldn’t restrain his obvious excitement and hopped from one foot to another, beating his hands on the glass at the same time. “What happened?” He didn’t allow Amias time to respond. “At least you’re not dead! I was wondering why you hadn’t been here to see Jasmine earlier. I’m guessing by the look on your face that Kaden’s also still alive.” He watched Amias carefully, and then lowered his eyes, muttering something that Amias couldn’t hear. When he looked up again his demeanour had changed. “Somebody died, hey? I know it’s probably not much comfort but I’m sorry to hear that.”
Amias’s tolerance broke. “What do you care? You murdered innocent people with Kaden.”
Max held his angry stare. “Are we back to that? I told you, I never killed any of them. Andre, Kaden and the others took care of that.”
“You’re as responsible as they are,” snapped Amias.
“I don’t blame you for seeing it that way, but the proof that choices aren’t always black and white is sitting in front of you. Kaden has a power of persuasion like I’ve never known before, it’s almost unnatural, and if that doesn’t get you, then the fear of what will happen if you don’t do as he asks will. I was more trapped with Kaden than I am now.”
Amias had experienced the will of Kaden before, and even he’d found it difficult to resist. He looked at Jasmine who was still reading, either ignoring their conversation, or oblivious to it. “Jasmine.” She didn’t respond, only moving to turn the page in her book. “Jasmine,” he repeated, more loudly this time. Amias could feel Max watching him; he was expecting further comments, but this time Max remained silent. Amias walked towards the glass, stopping inches from it. He repeated Jasmine’s name but watched as she continued to ignore him. He’d considered that she might not recognise him, but not that he wouldn’t even be able to see her face and look into her eyes. Somewhere deep inside he’d hoped the sight of him could bring her back from wherever she was. He placed his palm on the glass, willing her to turn around with every fibre of his being. He couldn’t say her name again and face further rejection. Please, Jasmine.