by Bella Street
What had she done with her time when she'd been footloose and fancy-free? Went clothes shopping despite her small bank account? Insisted she was going to be an actress someday when deep in her heart she'd known she hadn't had a chance? Pined after Gareth?
Pining for Gareth had taken up the first few months at the compound as well. Talk about a broken record. What had she really done to change her circumstances?
Of course there had been that little distraction named Trent.
God, where was he? Her arms ached for him.
Between nightmares and day terrors, Seffy ate a bowl of soup. Next, she called Lani to ask for an update of the latest.
But no news. No surprise.
Fighting the heat pricking the back of her eyelids, she decided to stay put and just chill.
But how would she get through another day?
***
“Have you guys ever heard of Gilligan's Island?”
Gareth looked around the computer lab at the technicians. Sitting in his room, stewing about Seffy and Trent had him gnashing his teeth like some cartoon villain, so he decided to see if he could rattle the computer tech's cages. Maybe something would come loose.
At his question, one by one their eyes lit up.
“Ginger is so hot,” said one tech, sneezing and wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I'd totally date her.”
“Dude, it's all about Mary Ann,” said another. “I mean she's always wearing those short tops and shorter shorts.”
“I've always considered the Professor the most...compelling character,” said a tech, rubbing his glasses on the hem of his shirt, his face bright red.
“Okay,” Gareth, said putting up his hands. “Beyond the er, hotness factor, what is the main theme of the show?”
“There was a theme?”
Gareth refrained from rolling his eyes. “They all wanted to get off the island, right?”
“Oh, yeah!” several said at once.
“Except Gilligan,” said the guy who sneezed. “He liked it there, probably because of Ginger.”
“And when you were watching, didn't it occur to you that they really couldn't be that far away from civilization? I mean it was a three hour tour, right? And if the Professor was so brilliant, surely they could've easily figured out a way off the island.”
“But if they got off the island, the story would end,” one lamented.
“True,” he said, taking a deep breath, “but it was what they really, really wanted, and didn't you want them to be happy?”
The dozen or so techs in the room blinked at him while somewhere a metaphoric cricket chirped.
“Trust me,” Gareth said, “they would've been happy to leave. Staying on the island was unnecessary because they were so close to rescue. It was actually tragic that they were there as long as they were.”
“Why are you talking about a TV show?” the redheaded one asked.
“I just wanted to help you guys understand what it's like for me and my friends. We know you can get us home. And we feel trapped because it's taking an unnecessarily long time.” If he could get Seffy home, maybe he could get her off the destructive path she was on. Maybe he could make her forget about Trent.
“But it won't be much longer now.”
Gareth spun around and pinned his attention on a rail thin tech with wire spectacles. “It won't? How long?”
Another tech nudged him and shook his head.
“C'mon, guys, you have to level with me here.”
“No he doesn't,” a new voice said.
Gareth turned and saw Fiona striding into the room.
“Get out and let us do our jobs,” she said with her usual acidity.
“I'd like to help, Fiona, if you'd let me.”
“Sorry, I don't trust you. You or your lame friends.”
He sputtered. “You don't trust us?”
She pointed to the door. “If we need your 'help' we'll ask. Otherwise stay out of our business and keep your TV viewing habits to yourself.”
“It is our business.”
She glanced at the ceiling with a smirk. “Um, not if I say it's not.”
Gareth stifled a few choice words and headed for the door. As he passed Fiona, she stopped him.
“I thought you understood that you were to go through me only,” she said in a low voice.
“Well, since I'm no Gilligan, I'm getting tired of your cardboard excuses to keep us here.”
“You don't want to cross me, Gareth.”
“I'd rather not have anything to do with you.”
He headed out the door, regretting his decision to come. But it was either come here or fret about Seffy, and his pride wouldn't allow him to do that. Since Trent had gone missing, he'd seen this as a possible opportunity to leave the compound without the loser.
He'd figure out a way if it killed him.
***
Seffy wasn't sure she ever wanted to sleep again. It took another long shower to erase the nightmares that had teemed in her brain. But even as the water sluiced down her body, she knew washing wasn't the answer.
As long as Trent was absent, so was her peace, which meant that the nightmares would continue.
After drying her hair and dressing in a pair of faded retro jeans and lavender blouse, she decided to check with Malone to see if there'd been any word.
As she went out into the hall, Seffy's shoulders sagged. Could there be anything more soulless than the long halls of stained linoleum tiles and buzzing fluorescent lights?
She found Lani in her room but Malone wasn't there. After a few minutes of chitchat, she left. Glancing at Addison's and Gareth's doors, she decided to avoid them for the time being. But she couldn't bear to go back to her empty room. Even the Light Room held no appeal without Trent.
If she had another day to kill, what would be the best use of her time? What would be the most beneficial, so when Trent did return, they could leave this place?
Either way, it wasn't gonna be easy. Seffy peered down the adjoining hall and saw that it was empty. Her steps soundless and her breathing light, she made her way to the computer lab. A quarantine had never really stopped her before. And technically she couldn't be all that poisonous. If she was, her husband would surely have been dead by now, not to mention herself. So all the voodoo blood talk was probably just a scare tactic to keep her in her place.
Seffy crossed hallway after hallway, keeping a sharp lookout for other residents or security. The corridors were eerily quiet. Then again they were always that way, but she shivered anyway. Above her head a light flickered on and off adding to the creep factor.
The sound of steps down a nearby hallways made her flatten against the wall.
She listened hard, and when the person passed, she peeked around the corner.
Seffy's heart collided with her ribcage. A figure in a pink velour tracksuit walked in the opposite direction.
She opened her eyes wide, trying to comprehend the sight.
Is it me? Seffy pinched her arm so hard, a bruise immediately purpled up on her skin. Even as the figure retreated, Seffy could see blonde hair curling around the hood.
Shock kept her rooted to the spot. She stared until the girl in pink disappeared around a corner, then slid down the wall, her mind whirling with dizzying questions.
She'd seen a little girl over and over—now had her visions morphed into seeing herself haunt the halls? She pressed her fists to her forehead, as if to shove some sense into her brain.
I need you, Trent.
After reining in her galloping emotions, Seffy got to her feet and decided to continue her trek to the lab. Maybe what she'd seen wasn't real. That meant she didn't have to be afraid. Freaked—but not afraid.
Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly the rest of the way, keeping her eyes peeled for any more rogue Seffys wandering the corridors.
Eventually she made it to the lab without any more sightings. Pushing back her shoulders, she twisted the doorknob to the lab and slipped insid
e.
Her quiet entrance went unnoticed by the nerd herd who sat staring at greenish monitors, tapping at stained, off-white keys. Eugene didn't appear to be present, which was good.
She lightly cleared her throat, expecting myopic gazes to turn her way. But the noise got no response. Seffy rummaged in her brain for some computer-speak she must've picked up from Gareth—the closet nerd.
“So what OS are you guys running? MS-DOS or Windows 3.0? I used Windows XP at work, but I guess that hasn't been invented yet—”
“Windows?” a red-headed kid in braces asked. “There aren't any windows in the compound.”
The others turned their attention to her, just liked she'd wanted, but she'd already shot her computer lingo load and was now at a loss. “Have you ever heard of Atari?”
“Oh, man, I love Pong!” the redhead said.
“Shh!” a bespectacled tech said. “You heard what Fiona said. We're not allowed to talk to the Outsiders!”
A tall kid stood up, rubbing his nose. “Hey, you're that chick who's contagious!”
Several of the technicians screeched back in their chairs. They stood up, one by one, looking more owlish than ever.
She held up her hands. “That's the rumor going around. But I'm not here to infect anyone. I just want to know if the time travel equipment is back online.”
Aside from the sound of beeping computers, the room was quiet. Seffy looked from face to face, trying to gauge their reactions. Were they clueless or hiding something?
“Hey,” one said with a snicker, “are you Mary Ann or Ginger?”
“Or Lovey?”
More nervous laughter.
Seffy stared at them, mystified. “What are you talking about? Did Trent put you up to this?”
“Is he one of the Outsiders?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, it was probably him. He was in here like an hour ago, but Fiona threw him out and we got in trouble for talking to him.”
Seffy's heart began to race. “Trent was here? The blond one?”
“Naw, this guy was dark and tall. Isn't his name Gary or something?”
“Or something.” She closed her eyes briefly and tried to calm her pulse. “Okay, c'mon guys, get serious. I need you to throw me a bone here. The compound treats me and my friends like biohazards, but they won't let us go home. All I want is to leave here, and take my tainted blood with me, so I'm asking again, is this now a possibility?”
The tall kid cleared his throat. “Uh, well...”
“What's going on in here?”
Seffy spun around at the outraged voice and saw Eugene entering the room. When he saw her, his eyes widened and he plastered himself against the wall, spilling a few drops of soda from his can of Tab.
“What are you doing in here?” he croaked.
Seffy fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I just wanted to know if the time travel equipment or whatever is functional so we can leave.”
Eugene glanced at the technicians. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing,” the redhead said, “except there was some discussion of Pong.”
“And I say she's way more Mary Ann than Ginger.”
Seffy wondered if a tantrum was in order.
Eugene straightened and glared at her through his thick glasses. “You are not authorized to be in this part of the compound, Miss Carter, so if you will please return to—”
“Eugene, why don't you just answer my question?”
He shoved his glasses up his nose. “I'm not qualified—”
Seffy approached him, making him bump back into the wall. “You can tell me, Eugene. I won't rat you out. I just want some information.”
“As I said, I'm not authorized to say.”
“Who says?”
“I'm just an employee and when she says—”
“Fiona? I'm sick of her games. I want to go home, Eugene.” She stood toe to toe with him. “Don't you want me gone, too?”
“More than anything,” he breathed.
“So we agree. Now, tell me how soon I can be out of here.”
Eugene licked his lips, sweating profusely. “Soon,” he whispered.
“Soon?” Seffy's voice cracked as hope soared within her. “Days? Weeks?”
“That's all I can say, and it's already too much.”
She backed away, mollified. “Okay, that helps. And it's a good thing you said something or I would've spit in your drink.” She turned to the technicians. “If any of you get into the stock market, bet on Windows, okay?”
They all nodded, eyes wide.
Seffy hurried past Eugene through the lab door and out into the hall. As she broke into a jog on the way back to her room, she began to shake with happiness. It could really happen! She couldn't wait to tell—
She skidded to a stop on the tiles, hope withering. Tears burned her eyes and she made the rest of the trip with a weight of despair bearing down on her. Seffy didn't bother telling the others. What was the point? She couldn't leave without Trent.
When she got back to her room, she went up into the Light Room and out onto the roof, ignoring the swirling blue-green clouds and nearly-full moon. Seffy jogged to the edge of the roof and looked out to the horizon, longing to somehow see Trent in the distance. Only shadowy scrub and far off bluffs met her frantic gaze. Where could he be? She screamed his name only to have her voice flung back into her face by the wind.
When she was shaking from the cold and the effort to stand in the wind, she finally admitted defeat and returned to her room.
What did it matter if she could go home when Trent was gone?
***
After pacing in his room for a few hours, Gareth decided to talk to Olga. Maybe the nurse had some insight into Seffy's downward spiral.
When he knocked on her door and saw her expression, he knew she'd let him in. Older women always warmed to his polite manners. It was the younger women who were attracted to the louts.
Olga's eyes snapped with curiosity as she waved him in. Gareth glanced around the Victoriana, wondering why he assumed her residence would be fitted out by IKEA.
He paused when he noticed a microscope and test tube holder filled with vials on her kitchen table next to stack of file folders. She blocked his view and ushered him into the living room.
“Gareth, I must say this is an unexpected visit.”
He settled onto the couch, disappointed he could no longer see into the kitchen. What was she working on? And why was she doing medical stuff here instead of in the lab?
“Uh, yeah, I have some concerns about Seffy I wanted to discuss.”
“Ah. Well the first thing you should know is that Trent did not cause her bruising.”
“Did Seffy say that?”
“The bruising is a physical manifestation of her blood chemistry, not one of abuse.”
He considered her words, not sure what to believe. “Is that what you're researching in the kitchen?”
The nurse's expression became a careful blank. “I'm doing a few projects on my own time. What were your concerns about Seffy?”
Gareth mulled his options. He'd sought out Olga on a frustration-provoked whim, but now, sitting in her living room, he wasn't sure what to say that wouldn't come across the wrong way. “I think since Trent is gone, we should take action.”
Her brow went up. “Action?”
“It's something we should've done a long time ago, especially since returning to our own time is probably a pipe dream. She's having some...emotional struggles that are affecting her judgment.”
Olga's eyes narrowed. “I'm not surprised you disapprove of her marriage to Trent, but—”
“Marriage? It was a farce.”
“I have to disagree with you there, but back to Seffy's struggles...”
He glanced down at his hands. “You know I care about her. And you know I have a history with her that goes beyond her infatuation with Trent. But that's not the point. The point is she's suffering...mentally as well as
emotionally.”
“Why don't you just come right out and say it?”
Gareth heard the sharpness of her tone, but decided to take her advice. “I think Seffy needs to be treated to protect her from making other unfortunate...decisions.”
“Do you know what you're asking?”
“I know there are certain procedures that have been replaced with medications—”
Olga stood, her face flushed. “You disappoint me, Gareth. Doing what you suggest would make her nothing more than a hollowed-out shell. You don't want that.”
“I want her to find peace.”
“She's found peace with her husband.”
Gareth's schooled smile slipped. “No, she's gone deeper into psychosis and we're wasting time dallying. She needs help now.”
Olga walked to the door and opened it. “I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. But rest assured, Seffy will soon be improving, because Trent will be back.”
***
A bitter wind knocked the tree branch against the French door windows, waking Seffy from a fitful sleep.
She didn't remember a tree branch being so close to the window. She'd have to cut it away in the morning.
As her eyes drifted closed, she realized she didn't have French doors.
She lurched into a sitting position.
Switching on the lamp in Trent's room, she wondered what had awoken her. A knocking sounded again in the room. Seffy looked at the door, the hairs rising on the back of her neck. Those hairs had been getting a work out lately. A glance at the clock told her it was two in the morning. Who could be at the door?
Knowing it was the height of stupidity to even think about opening the door, she slid from the bed and walked silently across the room.
The sound of her rapid pulse and respiration made it hard to hear.
Was there another knock? Was it Angelique? Why the hell weren't there peep holes in the damn doors?
Seffy grabbed the knob with a trembling hand and opened up a crack.
Trent stood on the other side, wavering in the dim light of the shadowy corridor.