Hope of the Future

by Ariana Browning

  Bob did as well and then turned back to her. “Never could.”

  Hope shrugged, but regretted it when the pain cut through her shoulders. Goddamn implant. “I suppose that could be the truth. Not many around like you. You’re special, aren’cha?”

  Bob grinned—as much as he could. “So they say.”

  “Know the feeling.”

  Bob nodded. Why would he tell the woman on the bed he was impressed with her guile? He had no need for many words anymore. His face spoke volumes. Of course, he loved to still play at being the good guy, but the prison fire ruined the ability to keep up the façade. When you looked like a monster it was hard to gain trust of people.

  The powers-that-be spared him for a reason. He knew that much. Who else would have delivered the scientists to him?

  Without the scientists, Bob would have died. The powers-that-be told him through all these saving graces that there was a reason he needed to live. They spoke to him all his life. Guiding him. Helping him. The powers-that-be had a special plan for him.

  With the way the world had become, it had been a lot easier to give in to his craving for death, but money was still his guiding force. The scientists allowed him to roam as he wished and paid him a lot to keep their place guarded.

  Jeffrey Perkell, the head scientist, kept Bob rewarded for being a great bodyguard. Bob found the man odd. The scientist didn’t engage much in conversation, he didn’t like to be touched, and he referred to people as “it,” “the specimen,” “the subject,” or similar. Bob understood that though. He had no reason to refer to people by their names. He liked calling them by their sex.

  This woman lying on the bed was different. Something about her glowed within the dark room. She didn’t know that Bob had strict orders over her he intended to keep. The powers-that-be watched over her. He wondered what his reward would be for his service to her.

  A movement at the door redirected Bob’s attention. Perkell’s small frame cast a tiny shadow on the floor.

  “Bring the specimen. We’ll secure it before leaving.”

  Bob nodded and walked over to Hope. He saw a tear make its way down her cheek and paused. The cold stare remained, but she’d been serious about him slicing and dicing her. It was impressive that someone was that willing to kill themselves, but seeing that tear struck a chord.

  It was lost on him what the problem with children was. He enjoyed children. Their innocence and purity was a delight, he enjoyed the laughter that rang through his house when they stopped by in times past.

  Bob still remembered how it felt to be lost and have someone take you in. This woman seemed to encompass everything about the purity of children and seeing that tear ignited a feeling.

  She did not understand his plans. It was okay. She would hate him far more for a while longer and needed to. The voices he listened to were leading him on the right path. The powers-that-be had large plans for him. An evil smile caressed his lips. They had great plans for her, too.

  “Time for ride,” he told her, grabbing the ropes, and releasing her. Taking her arms, he chucked her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. Hope fought, but it meant nothing to him. Poor thing was too weak.

  “Sure hope you enjoy hell. Should’ve killed me while you had the chance.”

  Bob carried her out to the van, kicking and struggling the entire way. He shoved her inside, then followed. When he went to grab her ankles, she slipped away. Hope drew her leg back and slammed it into his crotch. The move may have toppled most men, but he lost feeling there long ago. Hope sucked in a breath when he grabbed her again, but she slipped free once more.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Hope shoved to her feet, spun, and kicked him in the stomach. She wasn’t as weak as he thought. Bob enjoyed the fight. He snatched her ankle with the kick, twisted, and flipped her to the ground. She yelped when her head bumped the van floor. Hope extended her leg backward and connected with his knee. He still didn’t falter.

  Bob grabbed her ankles and dragged her toward him. He whirled her around and grabbed her wrists before she moved again. Hope twisted beneath his grip and tried yanking free, but he snapped the chains around her wrists and ankles.

  Hope screamed when he took the bench across from her. The van was an old prison transport vehicle and once Bob sat down, a few other men slammed the doors shut, then the vehicle roared to life.

  TWENTY EIGHT

  HOPE FELL BACK ASLEEP time and time again to where she didn’t know when she was, or wasn’t, awake. Sometimes she dreamt that Bob came to sit next to her and play with her hair, but when she ripped her eyes open to check, he was never nearby. He’d be lounging across the way, half in sleep himself. Yet she doubted he was.

  Hours and hours later, Hope’s eyes flew open. Someone touched her wrists and the engine was no longer roaring. The van had stopped moving. Bob tried to grab her wrists.

  She screamed and tried to scoot back, but she had nowhere else to go. “What are you doing?”

  “Time to go.” Bob grinned.

  “Have we arrived?”

  Bob nodded, but continued to undo her chains. He pulled her off the bench and whispered in her ear, “Behave.”

  “Do I ever” Hope asked, leaning away to scowl at him. She struggled against his grip and he gave her a harsh jerk to pull her back against him when the doors opened.

  “I can cause pain without damaging the body.” Hope shuddered and Bob shoved her forward, but held her waistband in his grip. The men helped her down from the truck and snapped e-cuffs back on her.

  The van parked inside the gates of a large compound. It was plain. Nothing to see or notice of any importance. Nothing she could make out that would set her free of this forsaken compound.

  A few large concrete buildings, empty field, tall chain link fence with razor wire at the top as far as the eye could see. Armed men walked the perimeter with guard dogs, ready to be released onto the unsuspecting. The bottom of the fence disappeared into the ground. No telling how deep they had it buried. No going over or under, without work and pain. Time wasting.

  Another fence was built beyond the chain link. Electricity crackled in the air. If you got over the chain link, you sure as hell weren’t getting through the solar charged one.

  Hope felt her escape slipping away. They brought her to the place she would die. Well, just because she couldn’t get out, didn’t mean she would give up. The realist in her knew she couldn’t get out easily, but she would try. Otherwise, she would find a way to kill herself.

  Somehow.

  A white building next to where the van had parked appeared as drab as the rest of the place. A group of armed men stood around the van, and another group lined up outside the building. They were all wearing lab coats. The scientists. The oddest part of it all was the women.

  Women wanted to help dissect her?

  Surprising.

  Bob shoved her forward and then dragged her to a stop by her waistband. He did it every time he wanted to stop her. Hope spun and bashed him in the chest with her cuffed hands.

  “Stop shoving me around. I’m not your puppet. Keep that up, I’ll find something to stab you with.”

  Bob smiled.

  Hope grumbled beneath her breath, knowing there was no point. He would agree with whatever she said, or wanted. She shook her head just as she heard the familiar voice of the scientist.

  “This is the specimen. It’s the one we’ve searched for,” the excitement he felt over finding her, revealed itself. He walked over from another vehicle and waved his arm her way as though she were an item on a shopping channel.

  “And you’re a big ass freak.” Hope studied the people in front of her. “You all are. Stop studying me like I’m a thing. Every one of you are on my list to kill. That’s a promise.”

  The people in front of her exchanged looks, but weren’t fazed. The woman scientist, dressed in the same white coat, watched her for a moment before speaking. “If you pose a threat, we will keep you sedated
. We have a drug that will not interfere with tests.”

  Hope wasn’t bothered. “And you. I am shocked that a woman would help these cretins. Your little buddy over there—” she struggled to point to the first scientist, “—has already established that you don’t want to help women have children. I’m disappointed to be the same sex as you.”

  The woman shook her head. “Such language. It is no wonder that the female species can't have children. Who would want such creatures producing offspring?”

  Hope gasped. “Unless you have a penis I’m not seeing, you are the ‘species’ you speak of.”

  The woman shook her head. “A fact I have never relished.”

  “I can say I feel the same regarding you,” Hope said. Bob grabbed her and she tried pulling free, but his grip tightened. He paraded her past the group, into the building.

  The inside of the building reminded Hope of an old hospital. Everything was white or stainless steel. There was no warmth or life anywhere. The rooms they passed all had glass fronts so the people outside could watch what went on inside the rooms. She saw no other people held as prisoners.

  Just her.

  Bob led Hope to a room that would serve as her prison until her death.

  In the months following, the scientists kept Hope locked inside a bare room where everything was bolted down, or otherwise secured. The scientist kept Hope restrained, and knocked her out with drugs that wouldn’t affect her tests. When they moved her, they took all sorts of precautions to make sure she couldn’t get free.

  Over time, Hope found an opportunity to escape and killed the female scientist who had annoyed her so much and treated her with such disdain. But they subdued Hope and tightened the reins to make sure there would be no other escape again. They also upped the “cooperative” drugs as she referred to them.

  During her stay, they kept her vitamins up, exercised her like she was an animal—though it was more to test her physical capabilities, and pumped her full of hormones. The scientists made sure the eggs inside her were plump and viable for the taking.

  In one of her conscious moments about six months—or more, she wasn’t positive—after she was brought in, Hope overheard the disgusting little Jeffrey Perkell say, “the subject is ready for harvesting.”

  Hope struggled to open her eyes. The scraping of metal invaded her dreams and when her eyelids fluttered open, blurred images of people rushed around the bed. When she saw the worry in Cayla’s eyes, she knew it was another of her dreams. The other shadows were demons, and she was dying. Maybe this time was for good.

  Her lids drooped and then flew open again. This time Cayla’s face was in front of her, welcoming her into the warm embrace of death, telling her it was okay. Still a dream. Cayla meant death. Cayla and Ronin were dead. Now it was her turn to join them.

  Cayla faded into black.

  “I can’t tell if she’ll live when we remove the wires and tubes from her. She’s too damn pale,” Cayla said. “She’s survived once, but she’s not a cat. That one chance may have been all she had. She’s different than she was.” Cayla looked into the hallway and gave Ronin a look that said it all. She’s not the impervious woman as she was before, but she couldn’t say that in front of everyone. “Weaker,” she finished.

  The medical technician moved over to Hope’s side. “Let me. You and Ronin focus on making sure that hallway stays clear. I’ll get her unhooked. She’ll need a lot of help from here on out, but she should be okay.”

  Cayla stared at him for a long time before she nodded and headed out of the room to Ronin’s side. Ronin stood next to one of the captured scientists. The scientist had a bloody nose and cheek from where Ronin had punched the man over and over.

  Ronin said, “We don’t have long before the guards come, Cayla. They'll turn the fire alarm off soon.”

  Cayla nodded. “Alan is unhooking her. We need to get her to the van as fast as possible.”

  Ronin stared at the short scientist, suppressing the urge to snap his neck. “As soon as she is released, we’ll get her out of here.”

  Ronin clenched his jaw. He’d been on edge ever since they left the cabin. Ready to destroy anything in his path to get to Hope. The scientist received some of his anger before Cayla stepped in. Ronin’s control slipped further over the edge. If he crossed that line, she wasn’t sure he’d come back this time.

  The last time Ronin had lost control of his temper had been a long time ago. They’d been after Hunters who caught SlaPets to bring to Darrok. Ronin lost it when he saw the way the men were treating one particular woman.

  The woman was barely alive when Ronin and Cayla found her. Seemed the Hunters didn’t mind playing with their captured prey. Ronin’s temper blew. He destroyed the entire place before he found the ability to control himself.

  She worried what would happen if anything happened to Hope. It was already getting close to the point of no return with Ronin. He felt more for Hope than he let on, and if Hope didn’t recover, he may not come back.

  Cayla still wasn’t sure how they made it out of the cabin. One minute the cabin was erupting around them, the next, a group of men swarmed around them and got them out.

  Neither Cayla nor Ronin knew who the men were. Not until later when they discovered the men were there to protect Hope. To do that, they needed Cayla and Ronin. There’d been an escape route constructed into the man’s old cabin from the cellar, but the group arrived too late to stop Kaden and rescue Hope. By the time they arrived, Hope and Kaden were long gone.

  Cayla and Ronin probed as to who sent them, who they worked for, but they were mum. They refused to answer anything and Cayla didn’t waste more time on figuring out who they were, nor did Ronin. They focused on Hope.

  One of them had a weird voice that kept sending Cayla’s nerves into hiding. He was beyond large, preferred to stick to the shadows, and when they arrived to free Hope, the way he looked at her . . . was wrong. As soon as they could, she and Ronin had a plan to ditch the men.

  “How much longer is this going to take?” Cayla asked, pacing the floor.

  Ronin went to answer and men shouted inside the room, “Let’s go!”

  A ruckus at the end of the hallway caught their attention. Ronin turned to find Bob the Builder heading their way. He raised his gun, but Bob kept coming.

  “I will put a bullet in your head,” Ronin said.

  Bob grinned and stopped. He tilted his head behind him, then went back the way he came. Ronin put his finger on the trigger and the men carrying Hope stepped in front of him. One of them put a restraining hand on Ronin’s gun. “No. Follow him.”

  “What?” Cayla and Ronin asked in unison.

  Another man poked Cayla and Ronin in the back with a gun, urging them to follow ahead.

  A few problems came when they tried to get Hope out, but they made it out and climbed into the back of the vans set up to take them out. Bullets whizzed past their heads on their way into the vehicles. The man who made them uneasy climbed in right behind them, then the doors shut and the vehicles roared to life.

  In a rush, they were on the move.

  They’d been on the road for hours before Ronin voiced the thoughts he couldn’t contain any longer. “I still don’t see why Bob would help us.” Hope’s unconscious body lay in front of them on a cot, in the center of the van.

  Cayla shook her head. “From what I know, he has always been more interested in the bank roll. They must’ve paid him well.”

  Regarding the man sitting now in the front of the ambulance, Cayla couldn’t help but wonder what his role in all of this was. The man took the seat that faced the back. The entire time the vehicle was on the move, he’d been keeping track of whether they were followed or not.

  At times like this one, his attention drifted to Hope, but feeling the weight of Cayla’s gaze on him, he looked at her. Not being able to handle it, Cayla diverted her attention and went back to watching Hope.

  Ronin reached over and took Hope’s hand in hi
s. “What?”

  Cayla shook her head. “I’m worried about her.”

  Ronin lowered Hope’s hand back down and sat back, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. “Cayla, in no time, that brat will wake up and act like a pain in the butt. You’ll be remembering this moment and wishing for it back.”

  “Ronin!” Cayla chastised, but smiled and shook her head. “You could be right.”

  “Ass. . . . ” Hope whispered so low they could barely hear her.

  Cayla leapt forward and leaned over Hope’s body. “Hope-are-you-all-right?” she asked in a rush.

  “What did I tell you? Annyy minute.” Ronin patted Cayla on the shoulder.

  Hope’s lids fluttered open and glanced Ronin’s way. A moment later, they fell shut again, but she managed a small, “Never.” Her head lulled to the side.

  Cayla went to shake Hope, fearing the worst, but the technician with them reached over Ronin and grabbed Cayla’s arm. “Vitals are normal. She’s okay. She’ll be like this for a while. If I had to guess, she woke from hearing your voices. For now, she needs rest.”

  Ronin shook his head. “Classic Hope. Stubborn with her own healing. Her own body has to take over so she’ll rest and get better.”

  Cayla glared at him. “That’s not funny.”

  Ronin shrugged. His eyes sparkled. “Can’t deny it.”

  “You’re one to talk.” Cayla broke into a smile against her will. “You’re both equally stubborn. Probably why you bicker so much, like an old married couple.”

  Ronin snorted. “Going to start in on that again? I can’t stand the brat.”

  Cayla laughed. “Mhm, so you say. Repeatedly. Who are you trying to convince, Ronin? Me or yourself?”

  “Remind me again why we wanted to save her?” he asked, watching Hope’s sleeping form and avoiding Cayla’s question. The tone was harsh, his facial expression anything but.

  Cayla saw the effect Hope had on Ronin. Mister tough guy couldn’t hold up around her. He became protective and cared a lot more than he let on. When they found a place to hole up for a while, it wouldn’t be Cayla who stayed round the clock by Hope’s side. It would be the man who pretended he didn’t care.