The Anomaly Project

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AUTUMN

I don't remember much. Well, I mean, I remember the important stuff – that we escaped from Forrester Industries, that three people named Todd, Tessa and Masato rescued us, that I knocked out Desmond Forrester, and – ouch. A stab of pain runs up my leg when I move my calf. My shoulder's throbbing as well. That's right. I got shot.

We left my father behind in the facility. I remember that, too.

But I don't remember much of the actual getaway. Although the fact that I got shot and passed out halfway through probably has something to do with it.

Of course I was the one to get shot. Noah didn't get shot, no, he's fine...

Wait. Noah. Where is he? In fact... where am I?

I force my eyelids open and stare at the ceiling.

Hold on - ceiling?

Ignoring my aching leg, I push myself up into a sitting position with my good arm and take a look around. I'm in a tiny, run-down wooden cabin, sitting on a roughly carved bench. A small blanket has been spread over my legs. There's a ragged carpet on the floor, and a hammer, screwdriver and a few other tools in the corner. A dented tin can with a red cross painted on it sits on the floor next to the bench where I sit.

The threadbare door swings open and someone walks in. I recognize him as Todd, one of the people who helped me and Noah escape. His eyes widen when he sees that I'm awake and sitting up. "You're up," he says, coming to stand beside me. "We were starting to get nervous." He hands me a wooden cup filled with water. "You're probably thirsty. Drink this."

I gladly take the water from him and drain the cup. "How long was I out?"

"A bit less than two days," Todd says, taking the cup back from me and putting it on the floor beside me.

My eyes widen. "Two days? I was unconscious that long?"

He nods. "Yeah, we were all pretty concerned. Noah was practically losing his mind." He picks up the tin can and places it in the corner where the tools are. He kneels down and starts to gather all the tools together, stacking them neatly on the floor. I watch him as he works, finally getting a good look at him.

He's tall, taller than Noah is, but only by a few inches. His hair is a very dark brown, but not quite black, and it's messy, falling in his eyes when he looks down. He's got a clear complexion, olive-skinned... I would guess he's Greek, probably, or possibly Italian. But then he's got a British accent, so I'm not sure what to think.

Todd stands and comes back to my side. "How do you feel?" His tan skin makes his dark blue eyes seem to glow.

"I've been better," I say, examining my shoulder. It's been covered with white bandages.

"Brooke patched you up," Todd says. "She did your leg, too."

I knit my eyebrows in confusion. "I'm sorry... who's..."

Realization comes into Todd's eyes. "I forgot you haven't met her yet." He nods to the door. "Do you think you can walk? I'll show you around camp."

I nod slowly. "I think I can walk, but could I see Noah first?"

"Yeah, he's just out—"

"Autumn!"

Todd's cut off midsentence when the door of the cabin is flung open and my brother bursts in, racing to my side. He grabs my hand and squeezes it so hard that it hurts. "I was so worried! How are you? Are you feeling okay? How's your leg, and your shoulder?"