Satellites

Chapter 4

I blink in astonishment, my eyes beginning to water immediately. The day was now dark, and I frown, remembering some of my dream. It was sunny in my dream. How did my dream even form? I don't have enough time to think as I look into the person who was gripping my wrists as if I was going to run. He is tall and skinny, but considering that he pulled me out of the hole, I was betting that he was ten times stronger than he looked. His mouth is not covered by a mask, and I gasp, suddenly realizing that I wasn't either. I clap a hand across my mouth, breathing as scarcely as I could as a load of information runs through my brain from what I had learned. Toxic disease. Death.

However, he doesn't seem to mind. Instead of hyperventilating, he pulls me and prods me along the deserted road; it is too hot of a day for people to be milling around in the streets. We walk in silence, with my occasional gasps of air and shuffling feet. My lips begin to burn, and my throat starts to ache, but instead of worrying, I start to give up.

Better die than be kidnapped, I think, all logical thoughts vanishing. Wait--am I being kidnapped?

He pulls me aside and looks into the dotted sky of satellites, shading his eyes from the glare. After a painstakingly long moment, he waves and leads me in the opposite direction from the underground cave. When we pass it, I see a flash of wavy green. But when I blink, it's gone. Frowning, I continue to breath normally, if not heavier, so that the chemicals could begin to react. The guy leads us into some scraggly looking trees. Yellow stains the interior, while the outside is a sickly grey and green. I have to look away.

"Alright, let's get to business."

I jump, and look around startled for a few seconds before realizing who is speaking. I glance at the boy warily. He is no older than me, and swishy brown hair threatens to fall into his eyes. His stern eyes are ice grey, and I shudder involuntarily; he meant business.

I clear my scorching throat, wincing as I speak.

"Who are you? What are you doing to me?"

He glares at me.

"Is that important? All that is important at the moment is that you are under arrest."

I look at him, surprised. Under arrest?

"For what?" I say weakly. I was done. My throat burns with lava as I croak: "Is it because that man was an officer and I ran from him? He barged into my house and-"

"I do not understand what you are saying, girl." says the boy, and it is impossible to tell if he is feigning confusion or actually puzzled. His stony face stays neutral as he adds: "This is for reasons that you must have assumed in your past years of existence."

"My...what?"

He looks pointedly into my eyes. With a jolt, I realize that my brown contacts were off. Dread sinks into my stomach like the Titanic, only heavier, more nauseating.

"And now," he says, "close your eyes. Don't worry, it won't really hurt." He glances up at the sky again, as if expecting to see a falling star while I look at him, alarmed. Then, without warning, he jabs something into my arm. He mutters something about how overrated anesthetics were, and I yelp. The burn in my throat disappears, and my brain starts to slow.

But I don't collapse.