The Escape

Chapter Two

I felt like a child being carried out of the store for misbehaving. In this situation, I thought it was degrading. After kicking and screaming for about ten minutes, I finally just settled down. Oh dear god! The swaying back and forth as we were going down this hallway was starting to make me feel sick.

"Hey Tiny!" I said to Noah. I took a deep breath as I told him, "Can you put me down." He didn't say a word. Urp! "Dude. Seriously I feel like I'm gonna barf."

Noah quickly sets me down on my feet. Quickly I threw off a lid to a nearby garbage can and began throwing up. What did they do to me? I slumped over onto the floor as I was catching my breath. Just get it over with. I stumbled trying to get to my feet.

Noah to my surprise, tried to help me up, but I yanked my arm away from him. "Don't!" I hissed.

Just as I opened the door to the changing room, Noah says to me, "I knew your father." I stopped in my tracks as he continued, "You are so much like he was."

I felt a tear run down the right side of my face, "How?"

Noah answers me as I turned to face him, "You have his eyes. And you carry yourself the same way he did." He smiles a little as he says, "With honor."

For a moment, I saw Noah differently. "What division are you with?" I asked.

"Six." He answered.

The group benefits from others. "Do you have any children?" I asked.

Noah answers, "My son's. Ivan and Emmanuel."

"Tell me. Would you want your sons to become killers, or would you want them to live a normal life, free from all of this?" I asked a bit angered.

I could see through Noah's mask that he was trying not to cry. "I would trust that they would do what is right," Noah answered.

"Even if it means one or both of them ending up dead?" I replied. "Why did you chose this life?"

"Who says I did?" Noah replied.

Huh? "What are you talking about?" I asked.

I felt like my heart was going to stop when Noah pulled off his mask. He looks exactly like Jon's Dad! He approached me and said with passion in his voice, "I didn't ask for this alright!" Noah takes a step back, "I'm only doing this to protect my boys." I thought what he was doing was admirable, but also stupid. 

Noah then adds, "I may take orders from Vladimir. Doesn't mean I agree with all of them."

I told him how I felt, "I understand that you want to ensure your son's safety. Any parent would want that, but this. It's only going to get the three of you killed."

I sat in the changing room at first for a few minutes, still taken back by how my Noah resembles Jon's dad. Maybe Clark doesn't know about Noah? I got up from the floor as I started looking around at all the bulletin boards with information. 

I zipped up my jumper, and french braided my hair into one long ponytail. I stopped to look at myself in the mirror for a moment. Looking at the Descendants mark around my arm left more like a painted target saying come and get me. I then walked out of the changing room, thinking to myself. Eyes low shoulders high.

Heading towards the main area where most of the other prisoners were being held made me feel like a piece of meat. At first, when they saw me, I heard a lot of whistles and threats. Until they say the Division number printed on my arm. There was still whistles, but then were gasps and whispers. I'm guessing Divison 13 is somewhat feared.

Noah calls someone on his radio, "Open up cell D5." A loud buzzer went off as the cell door opened in front of me. I walked inside as Noah says, "Close it." Again the buzzer goes off as I saw the cell door close. Noah whispers into me in Russian, "I'll pray for you."

"And I'll pray that you'll do the right thing for your boys," I replied.

Noah walks away as I'm now left alone in this cage like an animal. Looking around my cell, all I saw was a bed with a metal frame — a typical prison toilet with a sink. Above my bed was a small green cabinet. I got on top of the bed to open it.

Empty.

I flopped back down on the bed as I wedged myself in a corner. I held my knees to my chest as I looked down at my wedding ring. "Jon!" I muttered to myself. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my sobs. When I was taken, I had no idea what happened to Jon.

For all, I know he could be...

"You doing alright there kiddo?" Asked the person in the cell next to me.

I saw fingers poke through a small window. "Who are you?" I asked.

I got closer to the window to listen. He answers, "My name is Rod Chapman."

"My name's Taylor."

"LePree?"

"How did you-"

"I was friends with your grandpa Bud."

"How did you know him?"

"I worked with him for a while at the bait shop he owned," Rod answered. He chuckles a little as he says, "I remember one of his stories he told me about you growing up."

"Which one?" I asked.

Rod then says, "When he was coaching your brother in boxing." Oh god! 

I chuckled quietly as I recalled that memory in my mind. "I remember him saying that you wanted to learn to. Ha! I think he said to me, 'Damn for a six-year-old shes got one hell of a right hook'!"

God, I remember that! I think papa Bud was proud of that! I jumped as I heard a horn go off, "What was that?"

Rod walks to the front of my cell to door, "All the inmates gather in the yard for two hours. Just stick by me, and you'll be safe, alright."