Phyla Sanski woke up sprawled on a cold, hard concrete floor. Others were strewn around her, too. None of them moving, some of them scarcely breathing.
They were in a small concrete room. It was dark. The only light came from a small window near the ceiling. It was damp and cold and smelled of something rotting.
The hair on Phyla's arms was raised. She was scared to stand or sit up. She slowly turned from her stomach onto her back. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and Phyla could see that the room was much bigger than she thought. The bigger the room, the more people that lay unmoving on the floor.
A sudden watery sniffle made Phyla sit up quickly and look at the person lying to her left.
"Lay back down, Phyla," Em gurgled. Phyla set the back of her head back down the hard concrete.
"Em... I-"
"It's my fault you're here," she said sharply. Phyla hesitated.
"What are you talking about?"
"Shh..." Phyla dropped to a barely audible voice.
"What are you talking about? I let the man take me. I wasn't going to leave you there." Em wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and continued to stare at the ceiling.
"I screamed. I saw the men coming and I screamed. I screamed because I knew you would come. I didn't want to end up in the Sanctuary alone. I'm so sorry, Phyla. I'm so sorry. I screamed to make you come and get captured. I screamed so you would come and save me, knowing I was getting you caught. I'm weak. I'm sick. I'm so sorry, Phyla. I'm so sorry..."
Em tried to muffle her sobs, apologizing over and over. She couldn't stop. Phyla had heard the words but she couldn't piece them together right away. When they did, Phyla took a deep breath.
"Em?" Em swallowed loudly.
"I'm glad you screamed."
Just then, a bang echoed from the other side of the room. Blueish light screamed through the doorway, scratching mercilessly at all the captors eyes, blinding them. Many who were wakened from their forced slumber moaned and raised their hands over their eyes. A man's silhouette bellowed to all the people that were cramped in the cement room.
"Get up! All of you swine! Up, filth, up!" This man didn't have a foreign accent. Em and Phyla stood up together with the rest of the prisoners, hands still covering their faces. Soon all were standing, arms crossed and shivering. "Form a straight line in front of the door! Wrap around the room if you have to! Go! Now!" There was a scrambling to make the line. No one wanted to be in the front. At last the room was silent.
The man's silhouette stepped from the doorway and started to walk along the length of the line. A machine gun was held tightly in his big, meaty hands. As the man strode by Phyla and Em, Phyla gasped.
The man whipped around and pinned the barrel of the gun to Phyla's forehead. She squinted her eyes and bit her tongue.
"Something surprise you, girl?" he hissed. His voice was acidic. Phyla opened her eyes and had to stifle another gasp. The man's eyes bored into Phyla's. It was his unusual eyes that made Phyla gasp.
"No," she whispered. The man scowled and jerked the gun away from her skull. But before the man took one step, Phyla muttered, "Just that my uncle works at a Sanctuary."
The man spun, faster than before, and pulled the trigger of the gun. A deafening clap of thunder ricocheted around the room as the bullet hit the cement two inches above Phyla's head. All the other prisoners dropped to the ground, covering their heads. Phyla never flinched.
The man looked back and forth between the rest of the prisoners and Phyla, the only one besides himself still standing.
"What did you say?" Phyla didn't repeat herself. The man threw a glance at the door then back at Phyla. "Your name?" Phyla clenched her fists and took a deep breath.
"My name is Phyla Sanski, daughter of John Sanski and Sarah Green Sanski- your sister." The man blinked a few times before speaking.
"Phyla?" He looked closer at her face. "Could it...? The last time I saw you..." He trailed off, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
...tick...tock...
