RUNAWAYS

PART TWO: THE ALLENGIANCE

RASHA

I wake up to the sound of rushing water.

When I finally manage to open my eyes, the interior of the Black Mark vehicle clears. The seats are pitch black leather and the windows are tinted. I hear nothing except radio static and mumbling of the two soldiers in the front seats. They forced me in the back of the car, locked away until they've decided I'm worthy enough for fresh air. Two white cameras on either side of the corners are pointed directly at me, watching me, sensing my next move.

I wish I could move, but I can't. My hands are handcuffed behind my back.

The sound of crashing water becomes louder. Through the tinted window, I see the Black Mark waterfall, a cold catalyst of bodies that would much rather drown than serve a lunatic. The infamous building comes into view. It's tall, black spires pierce through the clouds like skyscrapers. Drones hover around the top of the building, scanning for potential threats. When the car finally stops, my heart thumps so loudly it echoes through my ears. I swore that I would never end up back here. I promised myself, Charlotte, Zyran– I promised him– that I wouldn't end up back here. A part of me hopes that he's still alive. But if he's alive and they've taken him from me and did something to him, I'd feel better knowing that he died trying to survive, not dead because of Kane himself.

Who am I kidding? I'd put a gun to my head if I knew he was gone.

A soldier opens the car door, welcoming in the biting cold air and sterile lights.

"Get out," he orders, yanking my arm and forming me out of the vehicle.

He ignores my sharp wince that I fail to conceal. The wound on my side is still fresh and bloody from the glass. Another soldier grabs my other arm and walks towards the entrance, their boots hitting the ground with a haunting cadence. The entrance consists of two double doors and a fingerprint scan. One of them puts their thumb on the print pad, and after a few seconds, it gives a ding.

When the double doors open, the two waste no time escorting me inside. An all too familiar smell hits my nose. The lights are bright as always, the floors a polished marble. Soldiers are stationed by rooms with their rifles up and gazes straight ahead. As soon as I pass by, I can feel the energy shift. All of them click their guns as I stride along, but I keep my gaze to the front. I may be on the brink of collapse, but I'd be dead before I let them get cocky over a simple intimidation performance. After walking in the hallways, we set foot in an all too tight elevator. The doors are white as snow, and a singular claw-like mark is engrained in the middle. A soldier pushes the button for the first floor, and up we go.

Just as the elevator ascends, I feel like my legs are turning into mush. Both soldiers increase their grips on my arms, and I feel like their gloves are piercing through my skin.

"Stand up straighter," one commands, but gets cut off when the doors open to our stop. They escort me through the first floor, where I see numerous interrogation rooms and offices. A tidal wave of nausea floods through me. The late nights, the screaming, the blood that has stained these floors and windows come circling back. I catch myself drifting, but I force myself to recover. I need to survive this. I have to.

We finally stop at the interrogation room near the end. One of them opens the door with a key and shoves me on the hard, wooden chair. While one soldier stands by the door, another yanks my arm again and unlocks the handcuffs.

I sigh, the tension in my wrists slowly decreasing.

My lovely escorts left as fast as they arrived.