Chapter 10
Running Blind
JESSICA
EIGHT YEARS AGO:
Emerald Pack Clinic
Iwake with a start and bolt up in bed. My vision is hazy, and I can’t make out where I am.
It smells funny, almost clean—so clean, it’s sterile.
A loud beeping noise pierces my mind, and a sharp pain shoots in my ears and my temple.
I immediately cover my ears with my hands, but I realize my arms are attached to a monitor with some kind of small tube.
I’m scared. My brain screams for me to run. I need to get away. I need to be safe.
I pull at the lines attached to my body. Liquid pours from some of the tubes. It doesn’t smell like blood, so I keep pulling, removing everything I find by roaming my hands over my torso.
I can’t see clearly, which scares me even more. But I’m determined to get away. I need to protect myself. One last tube embeds in the center of my throat, held in place with a cloth strap. Feeling around my neck, I undo the strap and pull on the device.
Suddenly, I start coughing and choking. A slimy substance oozes from the gaping hole.
I want to cry. Who did this to me? Why? Without wasting any time, I slide out of bed. I hear footsteps racing around outside my room. The loud beeping and shrill piercing noises grow louder. Someone was alerted.
I slip outside my door into some kind of dark corridor. Relying on my instincts and other senses, I back against the wall, hiding in the shadows, and slide away from the oncoming footsteps.
I reach thick molding along the wall, a door, so I open it and slip inside.
A clean antiseptic smell instantly hits my nose reminding me of the room I just vacated.
I close my eyes wishing I could see my surroundings and take a deep breath.
A vision of the room forms in my mind. The shelves are lined with some kind of cloth of varying shades of blue and sizes.
Cool air rushes against my backside. Grabbing at my back, I realize I’m partially covered. I grab for what feels like a pair of pants and slip them on, tying the drawstring tight and rolling the hem of the pant legs so I don’t trip over them.
I tear off my gown only to discover another tube sticking out of my stomach.
A sticky fluid drips from the line. Without hesitation, I rip it out.
Instant pain and a burning sensation overtake me, but they pass quickly.
Tossing the tube to the floor, along with the long gown, I find a shirt and pull it on. I need to get out of here.
Before I sneak back out the door, I hear loud, commanding voices. “Find her! She has to be here somewhere. She’s hurt. She couldn’t have gone far!” More footsteps echo in the hall, so I shrink back behind one of the shelves and crouch down.
All I can hear is myself breathing through the hole in my throat.
Air rushes in and out, mixing with fluid in a low rattling sound.
Gross! I fumble through the items on the shelves to locate anything resembling a piece of cloth or napkin.
When I find what I’m searching for I wipe at the slimy, slick…
drool? Eww! I wipe it again and place my hand over the hole to quiet the gurgling noises I make when I breathe.
Fuck! Who did this to me and why? I don’t have much time to think it over. The people outside pass down the hall. I tuck the cloth into my waistband and approach the door, slipping into the hallway.
I don’t know where I am, but somehow, I can clearly see the layout of the building in my head.
I find the exit and quietly, sticking to the shadows, still holding my hand over the hole in my throat, slink toward it.
On my way over, I bump into a chair, filling the silence with a scraping noise against the linoleum floors.
Holding my breath, I stay very still, listening for anyone coming. It remains quiet so I move forward, trying to avoid the chair in my path, when my bare foot brushes against something soft. I nudge it with my foot again. I gingerly bend down to pick it up and determine it’s a hooded sweatshirt.
I put it on immediately. It’s huge on me, but I don’t care. It’s perfect. I pull the hood to cover my face, and a distinct fragrance—a mixture of dirt, grass, and sunshine, paired with a clean-smelling cologne—assaults my senses. I also smell subtle hints of bergamot, melon, and cucumber.
The medley comforts me. I feel calmer, stronger. I smirk, thinking about when a superhero puts on their cape. Confidence takes over, and I feel more assured that I can escape to safety.
The cool night air blasts my face. I plaster myself against the wall of the building. My eyes are still closed. Did I not open them this entire time? In my mind, I saw my surroundings. That’s odd, right? I mentally shake myself. I don’t have time to figure it out.
Ahead is a road that leads to a gate. From there, I can run and follow the road wherever it may lead. But I can’t just run onto the driveway in front of the building. Someone will definitely find me and haul me back into the lab of doom.
With my free hand, I tug the hood to cover more of my face. Breathing in the owner’s scent relieves the tension in my muscles. But what if he is one of the men holding me hostage and conducting all of these science experiments on me?
I slide along the brick wall and round the corner closest to the road.
I hear crunching gravel headed in my direction, but instead of retreating, I run toward it.
I make out the blurry outline of a tall, broad man.
His large torso leads him to have a wide base stance.
I push myself faster, and before he can react, I dive between his legs.
Using the momentum of my slide, I jump to my feet and keep running toward the road.
Another man approaches from the right. I deviate from my path and rush at him.
He bends low, bracing his posture, planning to grab me.
I jump as high as I can, using my left foot to push off his shoulder, I reach for a low-lying tree branch above his head.
I begin to climb. Slowly, I inch my way across the branch toward the roof of a building, and I leap.
I fall short. “Catch her!” someone shouts.
Quickly shooting my arm out, I catch the edge just in time.
I grip the ledge with my other hand and start to swing back and forth.
My body swings closer to the wall so when I push against it with both feet, I flip myself onto the roof, landing on my back with a hard thud.
Bringing my legs toward my stomach, I push off the ground with a hand on either side of my head and stand back on my feet. I sprint along the roof, searching for the gate in my mind. I’m closer now.
To the side of the building, the two men I outsmarted earlier now run alongside me. I hear various orders yell through the air.
“Block the gate!”
“Don’t hurt her!”
“If she falls, catch her!”
I stop abruptly at the end of the roof and almost fall forward. Waving my arms, I regain my balance. I need to get down so I decide to jump onto the closest man. Catching him off guard, we fall to the ground together. I waste no time pushing off his back and race toward the gate.
“Get her!” a man commands. “Watch her—she’s a tricky one!”
Three men stand in front of me. One slowly approaches, expecting me to jump, so he keeps his posture upright. How does he know? How do I know what he expects me to do?
I fake an attempt to turn left, and when his body shifts to follow, I twist and head right.
I jump-kick one man in the chest. He didn’t see my attack coming.
Honestly, neither did I. I acted on instinct.
He leans forward, clutching his chest, so I plant my foot on his shoulder and grasp onto the iron gate.
I climb, swing my leg over, and freefall. Landing on my feet, I don’t turn to take in my surroundings. The vision in my head disappear, but I keep running. Anywhere is better than here. Right?
I ignore the pain to my feet and legs as I dart over tiny pieces of gravel and sticks. I propel myself forward.
The gate squeaks as it opens behind me, startling me, urging me faster. Thudding footsteps follow. There are more of them now. The footfalls are heavier, louder, like a stampede of horses. That means they shifted.
Fear tingles up my spine. If they catch me, they will tear me apart. I hear growls, shouts, and curses in my head. What the hell? My body screams with pain, my lungs burn, but I refuse to surrender.
Get around her!
Cut her off!
Catch her from the right! I veer to my left. How the fuck is she so fast?!
Shut the fuck up and get her!
He will have all our asses if something happens to her!
Snarls penetrate my mind, and I sense their determination. I squeeze my eyes shut. I have no idea what lies in front of me. Tall grass brushes against my legs. Focusing on their directions, I do the opposite of everything they attempt.
Then, a vision of a wide-open space opens before me. Hope fills my chest.
Until I trip. Falling forward, I quickly scramble to my feet and keep going. The wolves are after me, even closer. How do I know they’re wolves? I shake my head. I just know that I need to escape. They will hurt me, maybe kill me.
Fatigue threatens to immobilize my muscles. I’m not sure how much longer I can run.
Cut her off from the left. Don’t let her get any farther away!
My heart pounds from equal parts exertion and fear. My feet pummels dirt, then gravel. Suddenly, I hit a wall. A literal wall. I hit the ground, stunned, breathless, on my back. Shit!
A sickening cold sensation creeps through my veins. I’m so fucked. I scramble to my feet, barely swallowing the threatening panic. I put my arms out to feel what is in front of me.
An image pops into my head of a house covered by overgrown weeds and vines. Gliding my hand along the siding, I walk around it. The wolves are closer still. Gaining speed in desperation, I stumble over bushes and other brush.
Eventually, I locate a recessed window, boarded over with wood.
I grip a panel and attempt to pry it off with my fingers, but it won’t budge.
I anchor my leg against the wall, and after a few tries, the board gives.
A loud crack echoes in the night air, and yet again, I fall backward, landing on my ass.
Find her! She has to be here!
Gripping the windowsill, I squeeze into the opening and crash inside. I wheeze, pant, and hide in the room’s shadow.
Retrieving the cloth from the waist of my pants, I wipe the disgusting fluid trickling down my neck and covering the hole. I crawl toward a rim of light—must be a door—and listen for the men and wolves chasing me. Yet, the rapid beating of my heart drowns out any other sounds.
I open the door slowly, praying it won’t make a noise, and find a hallway. I have no idea if I am going in the right direction. It just feels right.
In my mind, a kitchen appears ahead. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
I desperately need to drink some water. A cool surface brushes my fingertips, followed by the tangy smell of metal.
I pat around and realize I found the sink.
Grasping for the faucet, sickly wet air escapes the hole in my throat as I sigh.
I wash my face and drink the cool water.
Immediately, I choke. Water spews from the hole in my throat.
I slide down the cabinet to the floor, trying to catch my breath between coughing fits.
Finally, after what feels like forever, I take a deep breath.
I return to the sink to clean myself as best as I can.
My mouth is still dry, but instead of drinking, I simply rinse my mouth.
The haunting howls of wolves forces me to crouch. I cover my head with my hands as their panicked shouts ring through my head. They all yell simultaneously, making it difficult to decipher what they say.
I crab-crawl away from the sink, in case they look through the kitchen window.
My back hits a solid wall, and I slide my hands around to inspect it.
It’s another door. I yank it open, just enough to slide my body through, and gently close it behind me.
My skin prickles from the darkness. The smell of cardboard boxes and aluminum cans fill the stale air.
I cringe. I’m in a pantry—a dead end. They will find me. When they do, I’m dead. I’m so dead.
I plop into a corner, pulling my hood over my forehead, as if it could make me invisible. My mind no longer offers clues to those outside, pursuing me. With my ears, I hear muffled talking. I can’t understand specific words, but I know they’re coming for me.
I don’t know how long I have. Shifting quietly, I wrap my arms around my knees and rest my forehead on them. I stay there for a while, waiting for someone to find me, waiting to be caught.