Burlap

28 - Animal I Have Become

The doors to the gymnasium opened with a loud creak. I kept my eyes on the floor, still seething about my ward mates’ decision to do absolutely nothing for Marcie. They’d left her to her fate, saying there was nothing we could possibly do. But, there had to be something, and I intended on finding out what.

John had tried to hold my hand, like normal, on the walk from breakfast to Physical Activity, but the anger at him and the others had me yanking my hand back while shooting a nasty glare at him. The guilt and sadness written all over his face would have softened me toward him on any other day, but all I could see when I looked at him was his silence when George took over as unofficial leader of our little group and proclaimed it too dangerous to try to get her back. Like mindless drones, they’d all nodded. Except for John, who’d sat slumped in his chair, looking like a corpse as he acted as if his input couldn’t change the outcome. He hadn’t nodded, but he hadn’t opposed it either, and for that I lost a large amount of respect for him.

His hand slipped over mine again, and again, I jerked back. But, this time, he only squeezed harder and pulled me to a stop. Opening my mouth to dish out a scathing reprimand, I spun to face him. The colorless shade of his face and fearful, panicked eyes made me stop.

“Kate,” he whispered, sounding very much like a scared little boy. It was strange seeing the man I’d come to see as an alpha male reduced to something so broken and tired. “Don’t turn around. Get out of here.”

My eyebrows crinkled up in confusion. “What?”

“Just go. I’ll tell them you’re sick,” he demanded, his shoulder squaring as some of the old John seeped into him.

“Why?”

His lips parted as he prepared to speak, but another hand on my shoulder shifted my attention from him and to the person touching me. John’s eyes blanked over before he squeezed them shut, as if he’d lost or regretted something important. The hand on my shoulder turned me to face the owner of it. Paul stood in front of me, a deceptively warm smile fixed on his face.

“Hello, Kate. Ready for some sack races?” he asked, a kind expression frozen on his face. Like he’d practiced that one expression, but none of the natural movements associated with it. Chills ran down my back, making me shiver and take a pronounced step back away from him and into John.

“Uh, sure,” I stammered, not missing the satisfied glint in his eye as he nodded and walked back toward the center of the room. Before I could examine the contents of the gymnasium, John had spun me around again to face the doors. 

“Just leave, Katie. Please,” he begged. His chest heaved with his building panic.

“What’s going on? Why?” I repeated, fear crawling around like tiny insects in my belly. 

“They’re trying to trigger you. They’re acting on the target they’ve painted on your back. Please. Don’t look. Just go.” 

“Kate! John! We’re about to begin!” Paul called. A rustling sound floated into my ears from the center of the gym, causing Power to perk up and me to turn, seemingly in slow motion, to see what the fuss was about. 

At the sight of dozens of large, industrial sized burlap sacks lying on the polished wooden floor, every muscle in my body locked in place. Before I could think a single, comprehensive thought, I felt myself being yanked from my neck below the surface of my mind. Power shoved me down, landing her sparkling red heels in my torso and using the momentum to kick off me and surge up to take control. 

My body seized up, head lolling backward as my legs and arms shot ramrod stiff at my sides. I felt my fingers and toes curling with the strain my muscles were exerting. Loud, cracking sounds popped from the joints in my spine as my back began to curve backward, leading my body into a back bend without the support of my arms to steady my balance.