Uninvited
Page 38
I grab my backpack. Sean takes my hand and we’re moving. Walking through the door and out into the silent hall without a backward glance. There’s no sight of anyone on my floor. We take the stairwell, my heart pounding so hard I’m afraid it can be heard a mile away. At the bottom floor, Gil eases the door open and peers out.
At first glance, the guard looks asleep at the desk, but then you notice his complete and unusual stillness and the odd way his head rests on the surface. Sean creeps toward his desk and deposits the keys there that he apparently used to open my door. We start to slip past him, but suddenly I stop. On impulse, I move back to the desk, my pulse now a feverish throb in my throat. I snatch up the keys, motioning Sean and Gil to wait, and race back up the stairs. At Sabine’s room, I unlock the door. She’s already up, standing tensely beside her bed, her small frame trembling. Her fearful expression eases somewhat when she sees it’s me but remains wary.
“I’m getting out of here,” I whisper. “You can stay or come with me.”
She hesitates only a moment before grabbing a pair of pants and slipping them on over her shorts. She stuffs her feet into her shoes, not bothering with the laces. I don’t have to warn her to be quiet. She follows me soundlessly down the stairs, past the sleeping guard and outside.
Sean and Gil are waiting by the door, their expressions anxious until they spot me. Their eyes widen slightly at the sight of Sabine behind me. Pushing open the door, Sean motions me to hurry. My steps quicken and together we dive outside. The air hasn’t cooled off much and I’m immediately doused in the humid evening. I look left and right, scanning our surroundings. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm. We take a left. I listen for sounds as we move along. Nothing. Not even the purr of the ATV patrolling the grounds.
We hug the shadows, rounding the refectory, heading west. The same direction the carrier had taken last night in his dash for freedom, where the perimeter wall is at its lowest. A pang sharpens my chest at the memory, at the bitter, bitter wish that he had made it.
Sean guides us behind the thick hedge bordering one side of the refectory. The four of us crouch down. I look at the boys curiously. Sean shakes his head at me and motions for me to stay silent. He looks back out at the quad in the direction we just came. I follow his gaze. Nothing. I look back at him questioningly. He motions to his lips, mouthing the word: wait.
Then I see her, muttering under her breath as she stomps a hard line. I’d know that walk anywhere. It’s hard and swift, more like a man’s stride. I catch some of her words. “ . . . know she went this way . . .”
I peer through the spiny leaves and observe acne-scarred Addy’s face. Even in the dark, I can detect the wildness in her eyes.
She stops and looks around, her narrow face drawn tight. Sighing, she props her hands on her h*ps and calls out, “I saw you! I know you’re out here! I saw you and that twig leave the building. Come out, Davy!”
My heart squeezes to hear my name on her lips. I exchange looks with Sean and Gil, trying to convey my regret that I earned this girl’s wrath so much that she followed us.
“I’ll wake everyone up,” she continues in a loud whisper. “Have fun explaining what you and Sabine are doing out of your rooms!”
I motion that I should go and appease her . . . keep her from making good on her threat. Sean shakes his head fiercely at me, mouthing no. Gil is the opposite, nodding and gesturing for me to go ahead. Sabine holds silent, keeping like a little mouse next to me, probably debating the wisdom of joining us.
I tear my hand free from Sean and step out from the hedge before he can stop me.
Addy’s gaze lands on me. “Hiding? Bit wimpy. Thought you were tougher than that. Where are the others?”
I ignore her question, crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you want?”
“Was just returning from a meeting with one of the instructors when I saw you slip out. Yeah,” she sneered. “You aren’t the only one they think has potential. Turns out I’m excelling so much at Spanish that they’ve started tutoring me in Russian, too.” She takes a single step closer, her shrewd gaze narrowing on me. “Where are you going?”
I stare at her a long moment, weighing my answers.
“I’m getting out of here.” I settle on the truth. She already suspects as much. It would be foolish to lie. “Running away.”
She considers me thoughtfully. I do the same, trying to read her expression and glean something from it. Maybe she wants to leave, too. Who really wants to be here, after all? Surrounded by guards with their electric prods? Instructors with their judging eyes. The threat of detention camps and death hanging over us.
I exhale. Only one way to find out. “Come with me.”
She snorts. “Oh, that’s funny. Nice joke. We wouldn’t last ten minutes out there. Especially with that imprint you’re sporting. No, thanks.” She crosses her thick arms, a smirk on her lips. “But you know what I will do? I think I’ll just go ahead and rat you out. Score me some points with the powers that be. Could always use the advantage.”
I point to my face. “It won’t help you. They’re going to keep pitting us against each other, thinning us out until we’re just a few. Your ratting me out isn’t going to save you. You should come with me.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Then at least give me a chance. You don’t have to tell anyone you saw me. Just go back to your room.”
No emotion registers on her face. “Go ahead. It will take me about five minutes to alert the staff. That can be your head start.” Turning, she starts to walk away.
Something inside me snaps. I only see her back walking away from me, on her way to destroy me. To destroy Sean and Gil and Sabine. This twists inside me like a hot poker. I can’t let her do that. I can’t let her go.
I don’t even feel myself moving, but I’m aware that I’m running, launching myself at her, landing heavily on her back. The bigger girl hits the ground with a sharp cry. She doesn’t take it without a fight. She bucks beneath me. I try to stay atop her, squeezing my thighs around her hips.
I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her head back to growl into her ear, “You’re. Not. Telling.” I pull back my arm to strike her.
“Davy!” Suddenly, my arm is caught in an iron grip. I try to pull it free, but there’s no budging. I look at the hand on my arm. My gaze skips up to Sean’s concerned face.
I look back down at Addy, my hand twisted in her hair. I release her and climb off. She flips over, her acne-mottled face red and seething. “You’ll pay for that.” Her gaze moves to Sean. “Your boyfriend, too.” She opens her mouth to scream, but suddenly a rock strikes her in the head. She topples over.
My gaze swings. Stops on Sabine. She stands with her hand poised in midair, as if still pitching the rock.
“Sabine,” I breathe.
She blinks at the sound of her name. “She was going to tell.”
I look back down at Addy, motionless on her side. “Oh, God. Is she . . .”
Sean checks her pulse and shakes his head. “She’s still breathing.”
I exhale heavily. I wanted to hit her. Hurt her. Sean had to stop me. This frightens me maybe the most.
“We need to go.” This from Gil, his gaze scanning the grounds.
I shake my head, staring from Addy to Sabine. She looks so small, so innocent. For the first time I wonder what I really know about this girl.
Sean grabs Addy’s ankles and drags her into the bushes, out of sight.
Then he’s back at my side, seizing my hand and pulling me along after Gil. “C’mon. We have to go while she’s still passed out.” There’s no time to talk. And no going back. Sabine follows us. I can hear her light tread under the heavier beat of our own. Sean’s running fast. I keep up, panting beside him. We break off the trail and head into the trees. It’s dark, but Gil whips out a flashlight from his backpack, guiding us through the grasping press of foliage. We stop at the perimeter wall. I blink, feeling dazed, my head fuzzy like it’s wrapped in cotton.
I glance over my shoulder into the dark woods behind us, wondering if I’m leaving the place where I truly belong. I am a killer, after all. Maybe Sabine, too, for all I know. She didn’t blink an eye using that rock on Addy.
I’m lifted off my feet as Sean swings me over the wall. Sabine drops down without any help. She’s like a jungle monkey. Sean follows, landing lightly on his feet. A car waits, rumbling in the dark. The headlights flip on and we’re bathed in the sudden flood.
“He’s here!” Gil exclaims, rushing ahead, waving excitedly to the person behind the wheel. No stranger to him, apparently.
The guy is in his forties, plain and unassuming looking. Nervous. His gaze darts everywhere all at once.
“Who’s that?” I pause warily beside Sean, watching as Gil and the driver step close to talk.
Sean faces me, his features cut in harsh lines from the glow of the headlights. “The guy that’s going to get us out of here.”
“Oh,” I murmur as though that explains everything. But I don’t press. I’m still reeling from the last few moments. From what I’m actually doing. From all that I’ve done. All that might happen yet.
He turns me to face him. “Don’t start questioning yourself now. We’re doing the right thing. We have no other choice.”
I nod. I don’t want him to worry about me or that I’m about to break, crumple to bits and pieces in front of him. “I’m not.”
“Hey.” He tilts my chin with one finger, his eyes mesmerizing me. “You trust me, right?”
This time my nod is sincere. “Yes.” I do. I trust him. It’s just me I doubt. Glassy brown eyes keep flashing before my eyes. A reminder of what I am, what I’ve done. The peace that will never be mine. A painful lump rises in my throat.
Gil and the driver get in the front of the car. Sean pulls me into the backseat. Sabine follows. Sandwiched in the middle, I settle alongside Sean’s solid warmth. His arm wraps around me. I take comfort in his embrace. Security, however imaginary. Gil looks back at us with a reassuring smile.
Sean leans closer. His warm lips brush my ear. Goose bumps break out over my arms. “We’re going to be fine.”
I absorb these words and try to believe them, but I’m not sure what “fine” is anymore. Everything feels desperate and hopeless. Everything is “have to.” Every time I close my eyes, I see the face of a dead man and know that I’ll kill when cornered. I guess that makes me no different than any other wild animal.
I lace my fingers with Sean’s, squeezing tightly, looking for something to hang on to, something warm and beautiful and precious. Something that brings meaning in all of this.
Anything to slow my descent.
I wake to sunlight. I can even smell it. Warm and rich as loam on the air. The small room is bathed in its warm rays, making the white walls appear even whiter, a colorlessness that seems to stare back at me, waiting for my next move.
I stretch on the bed with a noisy yawn, luxuriating in sleeping so late, enjoying my body’s sense of languor. Right or wrong, for the first time in months, I feel safe. Logically, I know I shouldn’t lower my guard. We could be captured at any time. My hand brushes the sheet beside me, the indentation from Sean’s body still there. I smile slowly. For now, I feel free. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that now—this moment—is all that matters.
Rising slowly, I dress and brush my teeth in the trailer’s single bathroom across the hall. Clothes hang over the shower rod to dry. Yesterday, Sabine and I washed our things in the sink, figuring that even wrinkled, clean was clean.
Walking out into the main room, I find Gil and Sabine at the small kitchen table, playing cards. Ever since Gil’s contact dropped us here three days ago with instructions on how to cross the border, we’ve played cards a lot to amuse ourselves. With nowhere else to go and no television or books to pass the time, there’s not much else to do as we wait.
At first glance, the guard looks asleep at the desk, but then you notice his complete and unusual stillness and the odd way his head rests on the surface. Sean creeps toward his desk and deposits the keys there that he apparently used to open my door. We start to slip past him, but suddenly I stop. On impulse, I move back to the desk, my pulse now a feverish throb in my throat. I snatch up the keys, motioning Sean and Gil to wait, and race back up the stairs. At Sabine’s room, I unlock the door. She’s already up, standing tensely beside her bed, her small frame trembling. Her fearful expression eases somewhat when she sees it’s me but remains wary.
“I’m getting out of here,” I whisper. “You can stay or come with me.”
She hesitates only a moment before grabbing a pair of pants and slipping them on over her shorts. She stuffs her feet into her shoes, not bothering with the laces. I don’t have to warn her to be quiet. She follows me soundlessly down the stairs, past the sleeping guard and outside.
Sean and Gil are waiting by the door, their expressions anxious until they spot me. Their eyes widen slightly at the sight of Sabine behind me. Pushing open the door, Sean motions me to hurry. My steps quicken and together we dive outside. The air hasn’t cooled off much and I’m immediately doused in the humid evening. I look left and right, scanning our surroundings. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm. We take a left. I listen for sounds as we move along. Nothing. Not even the purr of the ATV patrolling the grounds.
We hug the shadows, rounding the refectory, heading west. The same direction the carrier had taken last night in his dash for freedom, where the perimeter wall is at its lowest. A pang sharpens my chest at the memory, at the bitter, bitter wish that he had made it.
Sean guides us behind the thick hedge bordering one side of the refectory. The four of us crouch down. I look at the boys curiously. Sean shakes his head at me and motions for me to stay silent. He looks back out at the quad in the direction we just came. I follow his gaze. Nothing. I look back at him questioningly. He motions to his lips, mouthing the word: wait.
Then I see her, muttering under her breath as she stomps a hard line. I’d know that walk anywhere. It’s hard and swift, more like a man’s stride. I catch some of her words. “ . . . know she went this way . . .”
I peer through the spiny leaves and observe acne-scarred Addy’s face. Even in the dark, I can detect the wildness in her eyes.
She stops and looks around, her narrow face drawn tight. Sighing, she props her hands on her h*ps and calls out, “I saw you! I know you’re out here! I saw you and that twig leave the building. Come out, Davy!”
My heart squeezes to hear my name on her lips. I exchange looks with Sean and Gil, trying to convey my regret that I earned this girl’s wrath so much that she followed us.
“I’ll wake everyone up,” she continues in a loud whisper. “Have fun explaining what you and Sabine are doing out of your rooms!”
I motion that I should go and appease her . . . keep her from making good on her threat. Sean shakes his head fiercely at me, mouthing no. Gil is the opposite, nodding and gesturing for me to go ahead. Sabine holds silent, keeping like a little mouse next to me, probably debating the wisdom of joining us.
I tear my hand free from Sean and step out from the hedge before he can stop me.
Addy’s gaze lands on me. “Hiding? Bit wimpy. Thought you were tougher than that. Where are the others?”
I ignore her question, crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you want?”
“Was just returning from a meeting with one of the instructors when I saw you slip out. Yeah,” she sneered. “You aren’t the only one they think has potential. Turns out I’m excelling so much at Spanish that they’ve started tutoring me in Russian, too.” She takes a single step closer, her shrewd gaze narrowing on me. “Where are you going?”
I stare at her a long moment, weighing my answers.
“I’m getting out of here.” I settle on the truth. She already suspects as much. It would be foolish to lie. “Running away.”
She considers me thoughtfully. I do the same, trying to read her expression and glean something from it. Maybe she wants to leave, too. Who really wants to be here, after all? Surrounded by guards with their electric prods? Instructors with their judging eyes. The threat of detention camps and death hanging over us.
I exhale. Only one way to find out. “Come with me.”
She snorts. “Oh, that’s funny. Nice joke. We wouldn’t last ten minutes out there. Especially with that imprint you’re sporting. No, thanks.” She crosses her thick arms, a smirk on her lips. “But you know what I will do? I think I’ll just go ahead and rat you out. Score me some points with the powers that be. Could always use the advantage.”
I point to my face. “It won’t help you. They’re going to keep pitting us against each other, thinning us out until we’re just a few. Your ratting me out isn’t going to save you. You should come with me.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Then at least give me a chance. You don’t have to tell anyone you saw me. Just go back to your room.”
No emotion registers on her face. “Go ahead. It will take me about five minutes to alert the staff. That can be your head start.” Turning, she starts to walk away.
Something inside me snaps. I only see her back walking away from me, on her way to destroy me. To destroy Sean and Gil and Sabine. This twists inside me like a hot poker. I can’t let her do that. I can’t let her go.
I don’t even feel myself moving, but I’m aware that I’m running, launching myself at her, landing heavily on her back. The bigger girl hits the ground with a sharp cry. She doesn’t take it without a fight. She bucks beneath me. I try to stay atop her, squeezing my thighs around her hips.
I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her head back to growl into her ear, “You’re. Not. Telling.” I pull back my arm to strike her.
“Davy!” Suddenly, my arm is caught in an iron grip. I try to pull it free, but there’s no budging. I look at the hand on my arm. My gaze skips up to Sean’s concerned face.
I look back down at Addy, my hand twisted in her hair. I release her and climb off. She flips over, her acne-mottled face red and seething. “You’ll pay for that.” Her gaze moves to Sean. “Your boyfriend, too.” She opens her mouth to scream, but suddenly a rock strikes her in the head. She topples over.
My gaze swings. Stops on Sabine. She stands with her hand poised in midair, as if still pitching the rock.
“Sabine,” I breathe.
She blinks at the sound of her name. “She was going to tell.”
I look back down at Addy, motionless on her side. “Oh, God. Is she . . .”
Sean checks her pulse and shakes his head. “She’s still breathing.”
I exhale heavily. I wanted to hit her. Hurt her. Sean had to stop me. This frightens me maybe the most.
“We need to go.” This from Gil, his gaze scanning the grounds.
I shake my head, staring from Addy to Sabine. She looks so small, so innocent. For the first time I wonder what I really know about this girl.
Sean grabs Addy’s ankles and drags her into the bushes, out of sight.
Then he’s back at my side, seizing my hand and pulling me along after Gil. “C’mon. We have to go while she’s still passed out.” There’s no time to talk. And no going back. Sabine follows us. I can hear her light tread under the heavier beat of our own. Sean’s running fast. I keep up, panting beside him. We break off the trail and head into the trees. It’s dark, but Gil whips out a flashlight from his backpack, guiding us through the grasping press of foliage. We stop at the perimeter wall. I blink, feeling dazed, my head fuzzy like it’s wrapped in cotton.
I glance over my shoulder into the dark woods behind us, wondering if I’m leaving the place where I truly belong. I am a killer, after all. Maybe Sabine, too, for all I know. She didn’t blink an eye using that rock on Addy.
I’m lifted off my feet as Sean swings me over the wall. Sabine drops down without any help. She’s like a jungle monkey. Sean follows, landing lightly on his feet. A car waits, rumbling in the dark. The headlights flip on and we’re bathed in the sudden flood.
“He’s here!” Gil exclaims, rushing ahead, waving excitedly to the person behind the wheel. No stranger to him, apparently.
The guy is in his forties, plain and unassuming looking. Nervous. His gaze darts everywhere all at once.
“Who’s that?” I pause warily beside Sean, watching as Gil and the driver step close to talk.
Sean faces me, his features cut in harsh lines from the glow of the headlights. “The guy that’s going to get us out of here.”
“Oh,” I murmur as though that explains everything. But I don’t press. I’m still reeling from the last few moments. From what I’m actually doing. From all that I’ve done. All that might happen yet.
He turns me to face him. “Don’t start questioning yourself now. We’re doing the right thing. We have no other choice.”
I nod. I don’t want him to worry about me or that I’m about to break, crumple to bits and pieces in front of him. “I’m not.”
“Hey.” He tilts my chin with one finger, his eyes mesmerizing me. “You trust me, right?”
This time my nod is sincere. “Yes.” I do. I trust him. It’s just me I doubt. Glassy brown eyes keep flashing before my eyes. A reminder of what I am, what I’ve done. The peace that will never be mine. A painful lump rises in my throat.
Gil and the driver get in the front of the car. Sean pulls me into the backseat. Sabine follows. Sandwiched in the middle, I settle alongside Sean’s solid warmth. His arm wraps around me. I take comfort in his embrace. Security, however imaginary. Gil looks back at us with a reassuring smile.
Sean leans closer. His warm lips brush my ear. Goose bumps break out over my arms. “We’re going to be fine.”
I absorb these words and try to believe them, but I’m not sure what “fine” is anymore. Everything feels desperate and hopeless. Everything is “have to.” Every time I close my eyes, I see the face of a dead man and know that I’ll kill when cornered. I guess that makes me no different than any other wild animal.
I lace my fingers with Sean’s, squeezing tightly, looking for something to hang on to, something warm and beautiful and precious. Something that brings meaning in all of this.
Anything to slow my descent.
I wake to sunlight. I can even smell it. Warm and rich as loam on the air. The small room is bathed in its warm rays, making the white walls appear even whiter, a colorlessness that seems to stare back at me, waiting for my next move.
I stretch on the bed with a noisy yawn, luxuriating in sleeping so late, enjoying my body’s sense of languor. Right or wrong, for the first time in months, I feel safe. Logically, I know I shouldn’t lower my guard. We could be captured at any time. My hand brushes the sheet beside me, the indentation from Sean’s body still there. I smile slowly. For now, I feel free. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that now—this moment—is all that matters.
Rising slowly, I dress and brush my teeth in the trailer’s single bathroom across the hall. Clothes hang over the shower rod to dry. Yesterday, Sabine and I washed our things in the sink, figuring that even wrinkled, clean was clean.
Walking out into the main room, I find Gil and Sabine at the small kitchen table, playing cards. Ever since Gil’s contact dropped us here three days ago with instructions on how to cross the border, we’ve played cards a lot to amuse ourselves. With nowhere else to go and no television or books to pass the time, there’s not much else to do as we wait.
