Borrowed Time

Chapter Twenty-Two

 I'm taken to a separate part of the building and thrown down a narrow set of stairs into a spacious basement room. I drag myself into a sitting position on the concrete floor.

The scene before me is something out of Frankenstein. The room is dark, lit by only a few bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The space is dominated by a huge, beeping machine. There are two identical sides to it, each with a computer that looks like the one that takes your vitals in the hospital. There are headpieces too, like the kind that wipe your memory in science fiction movies. I cringe.

Belarus looks at me, his eyes ablaze with a light that could only be described as pure joy. He looks as though Christmas has come early. For such an old man, his eyes are so alive.

“You really do carry my time well, Cecilia, it's a pity that there's no other way,” Belarus chortles as Jonathan wheels him over to one side of the contraption. “It was very kind of Dr. Barnes to lend us this, though I daresay he didn't have much of a choice after...well, let's just say our old friend won't be seeing any patients for a little while.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to drown his voice out with my own thoughts. I think about how, when I was little, and I was nervous about something, I'd tell myself to think “happy thoughts.” But each time I try to visualize the things I love most, the voices find their way to me.

The lumberjack, who has been hovering over me, takes my hands and ties them to the chair. The machine looks a lot like what you'd think a crazy mind reader device would look like. The lumberjack takes a metal helmet and clamps it onto my head. I can feel it digging in right behind my ear.

“It's a very smart design, if I should go so far to compliment Dr. Barnes' intelligence. You see, all you have to do is pull the lever towards the person who's receiving the time.” I stay quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my words.

The woman from the van, the in-between one, glides over to the machine and positions herself in front of it. “It is ready,” she tells us.

There is a commotion at the entrance to the basement that surprises me, pulls me out from the terror I've been dwelling in. For a second I think maybe the crazy lady has fallen down the stairs, because she seems to be lying on the ground, but then I see Xavier, with his tousled blonde hair and brilliant green eyes, looking around wildly.

“I found him upstairs, looking for her.” My heart drops. He promised, I think. He told me he wouldn't. Or did he? Did he not just dance around the question? I suppose it was his plan all along, to get himself killed for no reason. I wish I could tell him to stop being so thick.

“Get him,” Belarus hisses, not at all looking pleased to have guests.

Jonathan and the lumberjack lunge at him, grabbing him by the arms before he can break away. They wrestle with him, and for the first time, I struggle against the restraints. The lumberjack punches him hard in the stomach and he doubles over.

“NO!” I scream, “DON'T HURT HIM!” I say it over and over again, until the words trip over themselves and become one incoherent pile of sobs.

“Is this the same boy as before?” Belarus asks, and when I don't answer he looks at his followers for confirmation.

“No sir. This is the one who took her from the office.” One of them tells him.

“How popular you must be. It's touching, really.” Belarus eyes Xavier, who is trying to regain composure. He lifts his head to look Belarus in the eye and spits.

I open my mouth to tell him to stop, that he's going to make it worse but my throat seems to be closing up. I can't find the air to breathe.

“Hold him, make him watch,” I hear Belarus say, as my vision swims with tears that won't fall.

There is silence, as I hear Xavier's muffled protests. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Do it,” Belarus commands.

There is a moment of silence.

The firefly pendant is heavy against my chest, and I can hear it ticking, delicately, like the sound of wings or eyelashes fluttering.

And then I hear the lever being pulled.