Linked

Twenty-Five : Charla

The air smells damp, like new fallen rain, and sticks close to my lungs. I find myself breathing shallower to compensate for the weight of it. The walls are concrete, the floor and ceiling are concrete. Green mildew spreads like a rash in all the corners. There are no windows, just flickery, dim lights bolted to the walls behind plastic cages. It reminds me a bit of the train carriage.

Corin and I have been left in some sort of antechamber. After entering the secret hatch, we clomped down a little set of concrete stairs to find ourselves in a short, grey hallway, aglow with artificial light. There was one metal door set into the wall at our left, another metal door at the end of the hallway. We were shepherded into the door to our left, and told to wait.

There was a scratched, wooden table and four chairs. So we sat. I wished there was a bathroom, but there wasn't. I knocked on the door, but no one came. So I sat back down, and crossed my legs.

Eventually, the tall, stubbly man appears with two bottles of clean water and a plate of buttered bread.

"Why are we being kept in here, like prisoners?" Corin demands, as the items are placed on the table for us.

The big man furrows his brow. Crosses his arms. "You are not prisoners." He gestures to the food. "Eat, drink. A thank you wouldn't go amiss."

"Then why are we separated from everyone else?" I know Corin is referring to our mothers - it is torture knowing how close they could be. I am still rather preoccupied by my bladder, but now is probably not the best time to bring it up.

"You and I," the man nods his chin at Corin and I to indicate the three of us, "need to have a chat first, establish a few things." He is still standing over us with his arms crossed.

"Like what?"

I continue to sit silently, jiggling my legs up and down, up and down. I am happy to let Corin deal with this, after all, he is the one who enjoys confrontation.

"We would like to know your identities, for starters."

Corin unscrews the lid off his drink and takes a long swig. We've come a long way for this. I think we should co-operate. I link, and quickly give Corin my opinion.

His reply is immediate. I don't like this guy.

"I know, but he's only protecting the refuge," I realise it as I slip the idea into Corin's mind. "They can't just let anyone in or it wouldn't stay a secret."

Fine. I'll play nice.

He places the water back on the table and sits up straight. "My name is Corin Elhart. I am eighteen and I live in Lovethorn."

The tall man nods, satisfied. "And you can Mindlink?"

"Yes."

"Who is your Link?"

"She is." Corin inclines his head in my direction.

Interestingly, the man's face opens in surprise. His dark grey eyebrows shoot up. "You came together?"

"Of course," Corin replies in an instant. I can't help but smile. I decide to jump in. Anything to speed this up, so I can find a bathroom.

"And my name is Benna Denman," I say, crossing and uncrossing my legs. I lean across the table towards him. Maybe this is a bad idea, but I go for it anyway. "You've probably heard of me before - I'm the president's daughter and I think my mother Charla is here, and I want to see her. Like, right now."

The tall man's face closes. Shuts down into darkness and suspicion, and he scrutinizes me. I can feel his gaze scraping over my face, my hair. My jumpy, erratic posture. Finally, he speaks.