Chapter Eight [updated]

420 30 2
                                    

The sunlight fades over time, but my eyes never leave it. A focal point so I don't forget what I'm doing, its pertinence is now ingrained in my head. Hours go by, but sleep never finds me. It's locked Lazarus in, his snores softly rumble through the stale air. Rolling my head to the side, I glance down at Savanna, sleeping peacefully nearby. Her hair is messily sprawled around her, her hands carefully placed on her stomach, almost like she's protecting it. Does she even know? I can't let her down again. I can't be the reason Sam may never know he's becoming a father. That's not something I could forgive myself for, let alone how much has already happened because of me. But there are too many variables to determine whether we can actually get out of here.

How can we scale a wall if she doesn't wake up? Or if we manage to get up there, how are we safely going to get down? Sitting up, I scan the dark room. Only a sliver of moonlight illuminates their slumbering bodies, and the yellow bulb does nothing in comparison. Overly cautious of every sound I make, I scoot to the corner, coming to a crawl on my belly as I lower my head to peek outside.

Two guards pace the main path of the camp, but every other regular body is absent— most likely sound asleep in their trailers. One older lady I recognise from the wall steps out from one, and crosses the small patchwork of grass to the clinic. Her face contorts with concentration as she lifts a walkie to her mouth, her pace fastens. Clenching every muscle in my body, I try to be as still and quiet as possible as I strain to hear anything the woman says. The small pond next to the clinic reflects the moon's light on her face, painting her features sharply. Her thin lips move but not a word travels this far. She disappears inside, and I watch for a while longer, waiting for her to re-emerge.

Moments pass, and just as I am about to pivot on the heel of my hands, two male voices approach, their heavy footsteps like thunder over our heads. I sit up fast, from my peripheral I see Lazarus stirring in his sleep. The footsteps stop just above us, my heart beats harder in my chest, every pulse nearly knocking the wind from my lungs.

"Lazarus." I spit through gritted teeth. The grate opens with a high pitch scrape, and Lazarus jolts awake. A metal ladder slides into the box, the base landing in the very center. A set of boots starts climbing down. Panic moves through my body like lightning.

"What's going on?" I ask, as another pair of men come down. The box is closing up, the space being filled too quickly with large bodies. Soon we become lost in the sea of unnamed men, their all black attire engulfing any trace of light from outside. Two march to Savanna, ignoring me.

"Aye!" Lazarus shouts, standing with fists balled at his sides. "She just asked you a question." Anger laces in his tone, making the lines in his expression more pronounced. I attempt to push towards her, but there are too many men blocking my way. The other two lift her sleeping body, and start back towards the ladder. Driving my elbow into the man's stomach blocking me, I try pivoting out of his reach to leap towards her. The man, unaffected by the blow, wraps large arms around my waist, lifting me off the ground with ease.

"LET GO OF HER!" I scream, the words like knives in my throat. Kicking my legs crazily through the air, I beat against his arms with closed fists. Despite thrashing around, it isn't until they carry Savanna out of the box, and every other man climbs out, that the one holding me finally lets me go. Stumbling back into Lazarus, he steadies me, glaring at the man with pure hatred. He turns to me with an empty expression and laughs to himself before leaving us. The grate is returned, darkness flooding every inch of the space we are confined in.

"Are you okay?" Lazarus looks at me.

I push away. "No," throwing myself back in the corner, my breath is unsteady as my vision adjusts to the night outside. Three guards, two holding Savanna and one just behind them, carry her into the clinic. Three nurses race in several minutes after.

The PassingWhere stories live. Discover now