Burlap

33 - Enter Sandman

The world stopped spinning as I stared, horrified beyond my wildest nightmares, into the enlarged eyes of the man in front of me. The spark of clarity that had flashed in them before he’d told me to “kill them all” had vanished, replaced with the same cold, dead, empty look all the other tortured souls around him wore.

“Kate?” Marcie’s quiet voice drifted from behind me, trepidation coating the single syllable.

Waving my hand in a jerking fashion, I shushed her. The thirteenth floor victims didn’t seem to act aggressive toward me, but nothing could be certain toward Marcie.

She’s one of them, you know, Power reminded me. Her usual scathing tone was replaced with an uncharacteristic gentle one. For all her callous actions and quips, my evil twin did care for my ward mates - Marcie in particular.

With extreme caution, I took a hesitant step forward, knees shaking as I tested out the reactions of the other inmates. In silence, one by one, they each took shuffling steps backward as I neared them. I motioned for Marcie to follow, keeping my hand held out for her to grasp. Her broken fingers slid against mine, jutting out at odd angles that made my stomach roll. Would her fingers ever be the same again? How would she survive, mangled as she was, once we got out?

If we get out. 

As I did any time Power shoved the truth in my face so bluntly, I ignored her. Marcie’s socked feet padded along behind mine, her shallow, scared breaths hitting the back of my shoulder in warm, jarring puffs. The residents continued to part, leaving a thin but open path for the two of us to pass through. Tiny, nervous spasms fluttered in my chest, keeping the air trapped in my lungs. My breath held there while we took tiny steps past them, waiting for the unstable, unpredictable inmates to attack suddenly.

However, they never did, and when Marcie and I reached the doorway, I turned back around to take in the puzzling, disturbing scene again. Aside from the narrow path we had passed through, none of them had moved, and they all still faced the opposite wall, where they’d found us sleeping. I swallowed the fearful lump in my throat, wincing past the pain of it sliding back down to the base of my stomach.

I glanced over at Marcie. Her body trembled and a thin layer of tears glassed over her one uninjured eye. The thick black cords holding her left eye sewn shut looked wrong, so wrong, in her once perfect face. Not only that, but the deep cut on her face had begun to show signs of infection. Though only a small amount, the yellow pus in the meat of the gash could only mean bad news. Obviously she needed medical attention - real medical attention - but the knowledge of how quickly an infection could take her from somewhat okay to… to dead… It hit home with me, finally, how dire our situation was. The redness and slight swelling surrounding the gash only intensified my concerns.

“What?” Marcie asked, eyebrows drawn.

My eyes squeezed shut as I looked away from her and into the empty, dim hallway. “Nothing,” I whispered, and tugged her with me as I entered the corridor. “We need to find an escape. Or at least a place to hide, or a weapon. We just have to do something.”

She said nothing, but nodded meekly and allowed me to lead her down the hallway. We made our way to the only exit, the reinforced steel door. I don’t know what I hoped to find. There was no chance of us escaping the foolproof blockade. Shilling would have made absolute sure of that. He was not a stupid or naive man. But, I couldn’t think of any other option. Waiting around for something to happen was what had gotten us into this mess in the first place. Power had warned me to take preemptive action, and I’d denied her. No more. I wouldn’t allow her control, but I also wouldn’t cast her wise judgment aside again.