The Captive Game

Chapter 4

I try not to scream as the pain intensifies.

His hand. I focus on his hand. It is the only thing holding me down, keeping me from breaking. A burst of pain comes and I squeeze it with all of my might and then he squeezes my hand back. It continues back and forth until the box makes a squeal and pops off.

I lay on the bed, panting, as I try to recover.

"Are you okay?" the young doctor asks with concern lining his voice.

"I... I think so. What was that?" I ask.

"It's a new invention I just finished. You place it on any wound and within a minute the cells repair themselves. Your knee will still hurt for another week or so but the skin is totally healed."

I look down at my knee and see that he is right, it looks perfect, not even a scratch.

"May I see it?" I ask, indicating the metal box.

He cautiously hands it to me and I lift it up.

"Now can you back up a little?" I ask the doctor.

He takes a step backwards. I shoo him. He takes two more steps. I wave for him to go farther. He walks until his back is against the other side of the room and some of the nurses turn to watch the scene.

The young doctor is carefully watching me from his spot across the room as I lift the box up a little farther and then drop it on the ground to the left of my cot. The metal hits the ground, and, with a grinding sound, shatters.

The doctor smiles. Smiles. And then motions for one of the nurses to pick up the pieces. Then he tosses something at me which I catch right before it reaches my head. I look down at it and find that it is a yellow Post-it notepad. He scribbled something on it which I read.

Coffee, Water, or Tea?

My mouth starts to water. I know, I know. I just ruined his invention and should probably wonder why he isn't mad but I can't help it. This is the first nice thing that anyone has done for me in a year. My eyes get teary and I look up at him. He is casually leaning against the wall and talking to one of the patients. Every few seconds he looks back at me and I pretend to be studying the note. I circle coffee and hand the note to one of the nurses.

A minute later she comes back holding a cup of coffee with another post-it note.

I'll have Fitz check your knee and then you are free to go.

An old man with graying hair comes up and starts examining my knee as I sip the coffee. I am just swallowing the last drops when he looks satisfied that my leg won't explode.

"That should do it," he says in an old, cracking voice. "You can return to your room. The next challenge is in a week so you should have plenty of time to heal."

"What challenge? That doesn't make sense! I can't go back there! I can't! I can't!" My voice rises until I am practically yelling. "I can't!" I fold myself into a ball and start to wail, tears streaming down my face. I try to make myself stop thinking of the cell but it is branded into my memory.

I hear someone drop something and bolt towards me and a second later I am encased in strong arms. I put my face into his shoulder and try to stifle my cries as he whispers, again and again, that everything is okay.

A hand pulls him away and I see that it was the young doctor. He instructs two of the nurses to watch me and takes a phone from one.

I try to stop crying so that I can hear their conversation but I only catch parts of it.

The doctor: Yes, this is Trystan.

Man calling: Do you have her?

Doctor: I believe we do. But are you sure it's her?

Man calling: There is no time to check.

*mumbled conversation*

Man calling: The games will begin. We have one hundred rulers and we have to find the one before it is too late. The fate of our country is in the balance. For America!

Doctor: (With less conviction) For America.

Man calling: One more thing. Their fate must be decided by the games. Trauma can't get in the way. You have to look after her mental stability constantly. I have made some adjustments to your room.

Doctor: I can't...

Man calling: (cuts him off) You can and you will. Now get back to work. The games start in one week.

It takes me a minute to figure out that they were talking about me. Someone was looking for me? What's with one hundred rulers, and again, the games? I guess that I'll find out in a week.