by White, Megan
I looked to my feet before I addressed the cloaked Keeper, and in an understated voice, I asked, “When will we be fed?” It was a simple question; we would not survive long without sustenance.
The Keeper grabbed my chin with his chilling fingers, he yanked it up so our eyes were forced to meet, “You will be fed when we see fit.” His voice, like his eyes, were devoid of all emotion, hallow, vacant and impassive.
It was moronic of me to think that any one of them would care about our discomfort. They prided themselves on their ability to kill us with the touch of a button, spent time and resources creating such a weapon. Watching us starve would just be an added bonus for them.
I found Faith huddled in the corner. Her tiny hands were pressed tightly to her stomach as she leaned against the wall near Brian and Stephanie. I knew that gesture well. She was trying to quiet the growls, trying in vain to stave off the painful rolls of her abdomen. Watching her suffer was more painful than my own discomfort. Her pain seemed to be tied to something imperceptible inside of me.
I pulled her into my lap, a worthless gesture because there was nothing I could do to help her other than put more of a target on all of our heads. No matter what I did or said, it made everything worse.
“I’ll be fine.” She whispered, then rested her tired head on my shoulder, “I’m tougher than I look.”
“You really are, kiddo.” Brian piped up, landing a playful punch to her arm.
“Ouch, okay,” She giggled, rubbing her arm, “not that tough.”
But we all knew well enough to see that she was far from ‘okay’, none of us were okay. A glass of water would hold off death just long enough for a Keeper to get a few extra moments to watch us wither away.
Looking through the room, all you could see were the broken faces of the surviving fifteen. Just yesterday, we were a group of twenty. Twenty scared Testers thrown into a dark and claustrophobic cell. How quickly five of us had fallen.
By the looks on the other’s faces, they knew this as well. We were a group of fifteen. A group that would undoubtedly be less by morning, and no matter the brains or brawn, we were all helpless to The Supremacy.
None of us were safe.
Chapter Ten
Faith and Stephanie finally surrendered to their exhaustion. Funny thing, starving was, it broke down your body, slowly drank your energy and made it that much easier to sleep. But would you be woken from your slumber? I was not sure. I was not even certain I wanted the rest. Even if I were able to wake, I feared what would greet my eyes when the time came to open them again.
“Do you ever think they will feed us?” Brian asked, his arms straining around his stomach, his eyes giving truth to the discomfort his body tried so desperately to hide. To Brian, showing any form of hardship was a sign of weakness. It was dumb to try to hide our limitations, a Keeper knew what we were capable of… and to them, it wasn’t much.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they never fed us. What fun would that be for them?”
He scoffed as he leaned his head to rest against the wall behind him, “So that would give us all about a week then.”
“Give or take,” I answered absentmindedly, still thinking of Faith and wondering how long a child as small as her would last. It did not take me long to conclude that it would not take long, “Depends on how healthy any of us were to begin with.”
“Were any of us ‘healthy’ to begin with, really?”
“No.”
None of us were. None of us had the luxury to eat until full, drink until all our thirst was quenched. We were given rations from The Supremacy to ensure we were only given enough to survive. Nothing more, nothing less.
Brian moaned loudly before he pushed his head away from the wall and grasped my arm in hold that was just this side of painful. His vehemence shocked me; his abrupt movements almost startled me enough to fight him away, but that was until I saw the pleading in his eyes, “Talk to me.” He begged, “Keep me awake.”
I sucked in a shaken breath, and watched him writhe in pain that mimicked my own, “About what?” What was there to really talk about? Any more talking about that place would have driven me closer to the edge of the precipice I had already been teetering on.
“Anything,” He grumbled, moving closer to me, “Your relationship with that guy. You know the one that tried to fight with that lead Keeper asshole.”
John, he wanted me to talk about John. Just his name spoken aloud ripped a fissure through my chest. No physical blow could have pained me more than the agony that came with the memory of my best friend dying at my feet. To watch him go as I stood there helpless, unable to do a thing to save him was the worst thing I had ever done. And I would forever pay penance for my failure.
“John,” I managed to choke out through the emotion that gripped my throat, “His name was John.”
“Yeah, him. What was he to you, a boyfriend?”
“No. Not a boyfriend.” In fact, I had never thought of him like that, well not for a long time. John was like a brother to me. He had never failed to watch out for me. My survival after the regime’s take over was solely his doing. My stepmother was too busy kissing The Supremacy’s feet to realize the horror that her family was about to face, and my father was too busy fighting for his own freedom. John was the only one that I could rely on.
“Then just a friend?” Brian pushed when I stopped speaking. He was unable to see the pain that talking about John caused me, either that or he did not care.
I sighed, letting out a shuttering breath as I felt my heart crumbling into indiscernible pieces while the gaping hole in my chest ripped just a bit more, “He was family. The only family I really had left.”
“You have Trent.” He was wrong. I had no claim on Trent. I knew Corina erased all memory of me as soon as I left her home. The great thing about infancy was the ability of their minds to forget. Soon I would only be a shadow of a memory, flashes of moments, microscopic pictures in his dark childhood.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, tugging my knees to my chest, allowing my head to rest against the cool wall, “But I think it’s your turn now.”
“My life is not much of a story.”
“Everyone has a story.”
“Not everyone.” He let out a sigh before he continued, “I don’t have anyone waiting on a return that I will never make, or any siblings to have to worry myself over. No one.”
“There’s a story there.” I pressed him, “You just don’t wake up and find yourself alone.”
“Some of us do.” He countered as he kicked his legs out in front of him, “I grew up in a state house.” He shrugged, “I’m an orphan.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He tried a meek smile, a forced gesture. We had all heard stories of those homes. Keepers themselves ran them. No one left once they entered. The children left there became slaves to the regime, working from the day they could walk. My stepmother used the stories to control me, always threatening to leave me at one. After all, she had no legal obligation to care for me.
I had never known someone that lived that life, but Brian had, “It makes this place a little easier to handle.” He continued on after a beat if silence.
It took until that moment to realize how Brian came to be so strong. He was worked. Probably so much that he was literally a slave to the Keepers long before any one of us were. Just the thought tugged at me. Brian never had a childhood. He never knew the feeling of freedom, forever a captive of The Supremacy.
“Still,” I replied, grabbing his rough hand in mine, “That’s no way to grow up.”
“It made me strong.”
Looking into his haunted brown eyes, I saw the lonely soul he tried so hard to hide, “Did it make you strong enough?”
“I don’t know.”
Brian’s body tensed next to mine as we both heard the sound of footfalls echoing from behind our cell door. He looked at me with mirrored panic in his eyes when those steps grew closer. We were the
only two that seemed to be awake in our confines, the rest had already succumbed to their own pain and exhaustion, but for Brian and me, that was the reason we refused to rest. We wanted to know when death grew near.
Soon, the footsteps slowed, followed by the eerie quiet that quickened my pulse until I was sure my heart might burst right out of my chest.
“They’re coming,” Brian whispered, his voice echoing off the barren stonewalls.
I had no voice. Fear had my throat in its death grip.
Pushing Faith’s sleeping body behind me, sheltering her from whomever was standing outside, I waited and watched as the door burst open and five Keepers rushed inside, “Everyone up!” One demanded, his legs kicking out in front of him, his boots meeting the resting bodies of the sleeping Testers that were unfortunate enough to be near. As my eyes adjusted to the stream of light filtering through the open door, it was then that I realized why they woke us. Each was holding a bag. Some of the bags were clear, some filled with what could have only been goop.
My focus zeroed in on the clear bags they were each holding, knowing that it had to be water. My mouth dried as I watched those bags jostle in their hands. Fear was no longer gripping my throat as the need for water intensified to a fever pitch. With every passing second, my mouth dried. With every swallow, the pain magnified.
Soon the cell was awake and I moved Faith aside so they could reach her. As she stirred, her lethargy was unmistakable, making it known that the possible nutrients and water was her only chance at survival.
None of my senses worked. I was blinded by the primal need to drink. I sat silently as the Keepers passed through the cell, slowly setting up stand after stand in front of each Tester.
We all gasped when one Keeper viciously grabbed the nearest girl to the door by her neck and hauled her to her feet. Her agonized screams unclogged my ears, bringing me back to the horrific reality we were witnessing.
“Stop!” she begged when the Keeper that held her began to shove a long needle into her arm. Her tormented pleas did not end until one of the Keepers slammed a metallic stick over her stomach. The cell screamed out as the baton shattered over her abdomen upon impact, raining down multicolored shards around her now limp form. Blood mixed with rainbow hues as the crimson fluid trickled down her sides, pooling next to her.
The pain in her eyes was evident, but her instincts had taken over. Biting her lip with such force that it bled, she held off her screams, allowing the Keepers to finish their work over her body. The needle soon nestled into her bloodstained flesh, the clear liquid gliding smoothly and effortlessly through her veins. The Tester’s eyes closed, screwed tightly shut once she realized the Keepers that worked over her were not finished. A malevolent cloud hung over the cell as we remained frozen by horror, watching in a paralyzed panic when a Keeper reached for the tube that hung from the murky bag of goop. What he did with the second tube was far worse than the first. Much worse.
Grabbing her face firmly in his hands, he began viciously shoving the clear plastic down the Tester’s nose. She couldn’t scream. The tube was choking her. Gasping for air, gagging, she thrashed in the Keeper’s unrelenting hold. He did not stop, not until the Tester lay limp in his arms.
Faith cringed into my back, a quiet sob left her trembling lips. No words could have comforted the girl sitting next to me, and no words could save the Tester that’s life hung in the balance.
We all remained frozen by our own fear, sentenced only to witness. Once the Keepers stepped away from the bloodstained Tester, my heart sank seeing what they had done to her. Covered in glass and blood, she laid silent, limp, but still alive, her chest expanding on shallow inhales.
Without missing a beat, the Keepers continued down the line. I watched as ten others received their IV, none dumb enough to resist them, and soon it was my turn. I did not fight; we all knew who would win.
They closed in around me and I allowed my body to fall back, willing myself to relax into the damp floor of the cell. Closing my eyes, I focused on my breathing, slowly in-out. A prick of a needle was first. The sensation was uncomfortable but far from unbearable. However, the needle was not where my concern lay; it was the tube I knew was to follow. It took all my strength to remain on the floor, flight or fight started kicking in as I felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Clenching my fists together tightly to my sides, I willed myself to stay calm, to breathe.
“Breathe through your nose,” A familiar voice rang in my ear. Opening my eyes, I froze at the site of Declan standing above me, tube in hand. My heart rate quickened as his hand grew closer to my face, soon pinning it down to the floor. He nodded down at me, inhaling deeply as he lowered the tube to my nose, as if to say, ‘breathe’.
Closing my eyes tightly, I fought the undeniable urge to gag when my body tried rejecting the alien object. Declan’s hands lifted away, the foreign object finding its place nestled in my throat. I allowed my body to relax into the cement floor. It was over, I breathed deeply, for now.
My chest clenched tight seeing them inch closer to Faith. Tears glided off her porcelain cheeks. She looked to me for strength that I could not give her. I could not speak. Pleading to her with my eyes, I inhaled deep, allowing my chest to expand and contract dramatically hoping she would understand. She watched me intently, blinking away her hears. When she nodded her understanding, I allowed my eyes to close, not wanting to watch the Keepers work over her small form.
My hearing zoned in when her grip around my hand tightened. I waited for the pained sound of her gasping for breath, but to my astonishment, it never came. Only seconds later, her hand relaxed in mine, a silent signal that they had finished.
She smiled once our eyes met and my heart swelled knowing she was okay. Never had I been more amazed by someone’s ability to cope, by another’s courage. Faith was strong, stronger than I had ever given her credit. She would need that strength.
They quickly worked through the few remaining Testers, and convened at the entrance of the cell. Declan eyes scanned the room when one of the Keepers spoke from behind him, “Which ones will we test on first?” He asked in a voice that sounded utterly bored. Declan’s answer was clipped as he turned to leave, “The left, only the left.”
It seemed like our torture was not yet over, but whatever they had planned next, I was eternally grateful that Faith, Brian, Stephanie and I were all huddled on the right. Nothing good ever came from a Keeper, especially a ‘test’.
The remaining four Keepers lined themselves down the middle of the cell so to be facing the ones that were unfortunate enough to be sitting on the left. They eyed each terrified Tester individually, as if to say, ‘Try to resist.’
Cringing, their backs to the wall, the Testers waited as one by one, each Keeper reached into their cloaks, and pulled out a series of syringes. They held two in each hand and descended on the eight awaiting Testers. Cries of pain reverberated through the cell from the Testers who were viciously stabbed in each arm, but none resisted. The cries only grew louder as more received their shots. None in the room were able to look away from the scene playing out before us. Even had we wanted to, our minds remained frozen, unable to focus on anything other than the Keepers that tormented the unlucky few.
When they finished, the Keeper’s stood, and with malevolent smiles, they walked through the steel door, slamming it behind them in finality.
Moaning soon filled the silence of the darkened cell, but it did not come from the eight and my eyes immediately shot to the young girl that been struck with the glass baton. Her pained groans grew louder the longer the Keepers were gone. I couldn’t leave her like that, I wouldn’t.
I tested the tube that was still in my nose, seeing how far I could stretch it. Slowly, ever so slowly, I sat up, pulling the stand along with me. Only a few Testers rested between the girl and me. To reach her was not difficult.
On hands and knees, I started to crawl toward her, tugging along my IV stand. Almost halfway to her I felt a strong hand
wrap itself around my ankle and I turned to see Brian shaking his head in warning, pulling me back.
I kicked him off, jerking my leg free from his grasp and continued toward the girl. I couldn’t leave her like that. Only a monster could justify allowing someone to suffer in that way.
When I reached her, the extent of the damage was undeniable. Hundreds of sparkling crystals shimmered and blinked in the dim light that hit them. Her blood continued to ooze from each tiny slice the shards had made in her flesh.
Crawling up to her face, I tried to tell her with my eyes what my voice could not, that I was not there to harm her. Holding both her hands in mine, I gave her a reassuring squeeze before I started the meticulous task of removing the tiny splinters from her skin.
One by one, I pulled the splinters free, allowing them to tink against the bare ground once they were pulled free. Within minutes, there was a pile of glass floating in the blood that had pooled beside her. Every now and then, she would let out a moan, but not once did she stop me. Sitting back on my heals, I looked to the girl that had been battered. I watched as her eyes closed, as her chest heaved for breath. Only a monster would do this to someone. A Keeper. Experience told me that she was not sleeping, but in shock. It was her body’s way of shielding her from the pain that she could no longer bear. Infection was her biggest enemy and only time would tell if she would survive.
Crawling back on sticky hands, I found my place next to Faith and waited for the Keepers to return.
***
Light blinded me as I happily sat back and watched John running carelessly through the meadow, my heart expanding when I heard his carefree laughter.
“Come on, Rin!” He shouted as he continued to sprint through the grass.
“Looks like rain.” A silky voice whispered from behind me.
Turning, I came face to face with Declan smiling onto the scene, watching John run deeper into the grassy meadow until he was no longer in sight, “Get out of the rain, Erin.” Declan’s voice grew fainter, until he too was gone.