It was strange- and depressing. This morning, only a few hours ago, we had walked this very same path down to the dining hall. I laughed bitterly.
“What?” Raileigh asked. She looked pretty funny, actually, struggling under the weight of her duffle bag and a huge Gucci tote that I doubt would be allowed on any airline as carry on.
“I was just thinking, about 4 hours ago, we were worrying about what was for breakfast.”
That was not worth replying to, and she didn’t. Yet again, we walked in silence. But this was an uncomfortable silence, worried silence, completely freaked out about what was or wasn’t going to happen silence. Unlike the trying to wake up silence we had last time we walked along this path.
“Good, good. I really was hoping you wouldn’t try and run off, I don’t feel like sending out a search party today.” The Executive said, “Now just hop in the back of the van there, that’s a good girl. Jamie’s already all packed up in there. Now you too Bailey.”
I gave him a sharp salute before climbing into the van with the other two. I was silently cursing myself. Why the hell hadn’t I though of escape? We could have pulled it off, gotten away. I might still have people on the streets that would be willing to help us. With Rayleigh’s limitless money cards, and my connections, we could have been sitting pretty.
The back doors of the van were slammed behind me.
The Executive pulled back the slide that separated the front part of the van to the cab area in the back. “Better settle yourselves in back there,” he called, “ It’s going to be a long and bumpy drive.” Then slid the slide back with a sharp crack.
Seeing as a ‘long drive’ has no definite time length and usually is a lot longer than you would ever want to sit in a van, I attempted to find a slightly comfortable spot to sit in. There wasn’t much to work with. Jamie had curled himself up into the foetal position in one corner, clutching his duffle bag like it was the last pillow in a land full of rocks. And, seeing as each bump in the road was a painful jolt for us, that was the only fitting analogy I could think of.
Raileigh was sitting on her bag, and leaning on the wall of the van. She was tapping away quickly on her iPhone, probably just playing a game, or on Facebook. Lucky, she actually looked comfortable.
Sighing, I lay my duffle bag flat before the other wall. I tried to find a position to sit in that would be comfortable. Sitting on the bag like Raileigh was didn’t work; neither did curling up of it, laying flat on my back or stomach, or using it as a pillow. I only vaguely realised that Jamie and Raileigh were watching me with my struggle. Getting frustrated, I kicked the bag, hard. Only, that when I kicked it, we also went over a bump in the road, so I was thrown smack-bang onto the floor, landing painfully on my shoulder.
Cursing, and clutching my shoulder, I ended up lying on the bag with my head hanging slightly over the edge, feet on the wall and knees to my chest. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either.
“Is anyone going to talk?” I asked after a few minutes.
“What do you want me to say?” Raileigh sighed.
“I dunno, just say something.”
She didn’t.
I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.
“Theres… A hole in the bottom of the sea.”
