The Haven Project

Chapter 11

After they took Samuel, for the first time in a long time, I broke down and cried.  It was as if everything bad that had ever happened to me suddenly washed over me in that moment.  Samuel had been so kind, so helpful, and so comforting.  He was only a child; he didn't deserve to die.  He deserved to live a full life, to grow up and find love.  But now, these men had taken that away from him.  They robbed him of his family, his freedom, and the days that he would've lived.  And yet, in his last words, he still had hope.  He had hope in me, and I was not going to let him down.

The two men that took Samuel came back, stopping in front of my cell.  They opened the door and stepped inside.

"What do you want?" I demanded, spitting at their feet.

"The girl will come with us," said one, looking at Sydney.

"The hell she will," Sydney shot back.

They rushed forward and grabbed her.  I tried to hit them away, but a punch to the head and another to the gut dropped me to the floor.

"Get off me!" she screamed as they dragged her out.  "Let me go!"

"Sydney!" I leaped for the door, but they slammed it in my face.  "Leave her alone!"

"Bryson, help!"  She struggled against the men, but they held her tight as they walked down the hall.  We locked eyes, and I could see the fear in her eyes, but there was nothing I could do.  They pulled her through the doorway and locked it tight.

************

Sydney's Point of View

"Let me go!" I yelled as two jerks pulled me down a hall.  I was still struggling against them, but I was getting nowhere.  I finally just gave in and let them drag me along.  We kept going for a while, making a lot of turns.  I had no idea where we were going, but the men seemed to know exactly where to go.  We stopped in front of a big red door.  It didn't have a handle or any sensor that I could see, but it opened as we got close.  Inside was an enormous cavern, with a single row of lights hanging from the roof going as far as I could see.  There was a table in the middle with two chairs, each on opposite sides.  It looked like the table in crime shows when they interrogate the people.  Was that why I was here?

One of thee men motioned for me to sit.  The chair was metal and very cold.  It didn't help that I was only wearing shorts cut off at the top of my thigh and a purple tank top that said "Live and Love" above a big, yellow sunflower.  The room felt like an ice box, and I began to shiver.  After a minute or two of awkward silence, a door opened across the room.  A tall woman walked in with confidence.  She had on high heels, even though she didn't need them.  She wore a red pencil skirt with a black cardigan draped around her shoulders.  She had facial features that made it seem like she would poke your eye out if you got too close.  She wore a pair of glasses that sat on the edge of her nose, almost like a librarian.  As she got closer, I could she that she was carrying a briefcase in her left hand.  When she reached the table, she sat in the chair and looked straight into my eyes.

"Hello, Sydney."  Her voice was soothing, and she accentuated every syllable when she spoke.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Dr. Spencer, but you can call me Elaine."

"What do you want with me?"

"Well, that is the question, is it not?  You see, we do not necessarily need you.  Rather, we need your little friend, Bryson.  However, you know Bryson better than anyone.  More importantly, he trusts you.  It is for this very reason you are still alive.  If this were not the case, you would have been disposed of long ago.  The reason we need you is simply this: we will use you to get what we want from Bryson.  You will comply, whether you want to or not."

"I'll never help you," I said, the hate radiating from my words.

"Alas, you will.  Benton, hold her down."

While we were talking, the main goon that had taken us had appeared behind me.  He grabbed my arms and forced my head to the table.  It slammed down, shooting pain down my neck and giving me a major headache.

Elaine stood up and opened her brief case.  From inside, she withdrew a vial filled with black liquid.  She casually walked to my side of the table and opened the lid.  Benton pulled my head back and held my mouth open.

"This vial contains an experimental drug.  In lab tests, it made the subjects extremely susceptible to suggestion.  Drink up, sweetie."

She poured the foul liquid in my mouth, and Benton closed it shut.  I started to gag, but there was nowhere for the liquid to go.  I tried to spit it out, but my mouth was firmly shut.  I finally let it ooze down my throat, my eyes watering at the repulsive taste.  I began to feel really tired.  Benton stepped back, but I couldn't move.  It was like I was frozen in place.

"Stand," commanded Elaine.  I shot up so suddenly that I hit my hip on the side of the table.  It started to throb, but I couldn't cry out in pain.  It felt like it had been sown shut.  Elaine stepped forward and placed something in my ear.  She stepped back and spoke into a device no bigger than a phone.  I heard her voice echo though my ear.  So it was an earpiece, but why?

"You will do exactly as I say.  You will say only what I tell you.  Do you understand?"

"Yes."  It was like I was a puppet.  I could see and hear, but I was a prisoner inside my own body.  I no longer had control.

"I think it's time Bryson got to see his little friend again, don't you?"