The Hunt

Chapter 49: Naya

I've never truly seen the color white. Not this kind of white at least. The kind of white that makes the walls of Tanek's shops look worn down and rotting. The kind of white that makes clouds look gray and dull. Even the whites of exiles' eyes could not match the sharp intensity of this white. It's blinding, like the penetrating rays of sun that strike the forest floor on hot days. It's like the flash of light that comes after a rattling blow to the head.

This white is unrivaled by any color I've ever seen.

Slowly the white has started to take form. For a while it was just stark white, but now, the lines of ceiling panels and fluorescent lights come into focus. Just like the ones in Tanek, only cleaner and nicer and brighter.

I wiggle my toes. Then my fingers. Then I try to sit up but there are restraints. Not raw constricting fabric or rope, but cold, smooth metal.

I can't lift my arms. They're stuck underneath these cuffs. Same with my legs. The more I wiggle them the more I start to panic. My whole body is tied down, I can't move, I can't sit up, I'm just lying there like a vegetable. I shake my limbs against the restraints. I'm too vulnerable, too immobile. Now I'm thrashing against the metal. My stomach and chest and almost everywhere on my body starts to hurt as I writhe. All I can see is the white, my head can't move, I'm just stuck staring at the vibrant white. The hairs on my neck rise, and I feel an impending dread like something is coming up to me but I can't see it, like something is emerging from the white but I'm pinned. Fear courses through me. I have to get out, I have to get free.

The next time I see the white, a choking cough bursts from my throat, like I'm coming up from drowning. My whole chest and head convulse as I gasp, and my eyes adjust rapidly. It's like I'm awakening for the first time, or coming back from the dead. This time, there are no constraints on my neck, and I lift my head so I can see down my body.

After I blink a few more times, blurred white separating into shapes, I see legs and arms bound by metal cuffs and a body covered by light blue fabric; it's not mine. I don't recognize the pale skin or the clean feet or the glint of legs without hair. The nails on the fingers and toes are too clean, the dirty blonde hair resting on the chest is too straight and glossy and it smells nice. It smells too nice.

But suddenly, I see the scars embellishing my pale upper arms, going up to the shoulders. The scars that hadn't been revealed since Javaar saw them back in the forest.

It all floods in. This is my body, these are my arms, my scars. This is my hair, my legs cuffed to the table.

Where's my hood?

Suddenly there are footsteps and a woman is walking into the room, dressed in clean white, her skin and hair glowing.

"Hanna! I'm so glad you're with us. You've had a rough couple of days, huh?" she checks something on my left. Who's Hanna?

"I'll notify the doctor that you've woken up. Don't worry about a thing, sweetheart," she leaves the room.

And then I see the thin tubes coming from different veins in my arms, and I start to panic. I don't know what's in the tubes, or what they're attached to. I don't know who this room belongs to, or who dressed me in these blue clothes. I start to shake again. Uncontrollably. I stare at the white ceiling as my nerves twitch and my limbs flail against the metal.

Before long I'm sitting up and eating and my restraints go away. I've noticed these bandages all over my stomach and my chest and my other limbs. All the places I had injuries, like the infected bullet wound from Elias and the recent slash across my stomach from Mikkel. Whoever has me in here, they want me alive. The nurses are very careful never to leave anything sharp around me. Whether it's to protect me from killing myself or protect them from being killed, it doesn't matter. I probably could've killed them with my own hands if I'd wanted to, but I'm not sure I want to make a scene.