On the Run

3.

The lights in my "bedroom" were flipped on, and my eyelids burned red over my closed eyes. I groaned, cursing the person who'd woken me silently.

"C'mon, kid. Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey."

I shot up, casting my bleary eyes on Hansen. Pain seared its way through me, and I flinched with a grimace. Silently, Hansen slid an arm behind my back and one under my legs, easing me off the bed into a standing position. Once I was steady, he just walked away. I furrowed my brow and followed, trying - painfully - to keep up with his brisk pace. The halls we went through were black as pitch, so I had to rely on my hearing to know where we were going.

Soon, he stopped at a partially lit room that appeared to have individual shower stalls, toilets, sinks and mirrors. I'd seen something like it in an abandoned building once when I'd sneaked in to stay the night. I looked around. I looked over at Hansen, scrutinizing his face. He looked over, nodding his head towards one of the stalls.

"Are you gonna shower or what?" he asked.

"What? With this?" I gestured to my cast. "And with you watching me?"

He took my injured arm and tied plastic over it. He sent a hard glare directly into my eyes before saying, "The doors close, kid."

My cheeks heated in embarrassment and I bit my lip and nodded. The stalls loomed over me, but I headed to one anyway. I reached one and closed its door behind me. I looked around, frowning at my surroundings and wondering how the hell these people had running water. It had been forever since I’d experienced that luxury.

Sighing, I stripped off my clothing and hung it over the door I'd just come through. I glared pointedly at the shower head above me, but I turned it on anyway. I let it run over me. It was freezing cold, but it felt amazing to be clean again. I felt almost human, even though I was one hell of a mutated freak.

Soap sat on a little ledge beside me, and I grabbed it. I rinsed it in the water then scrubbed every inch of my skin I could with it, and I even spent extra time on my hair. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was raw and my scalp tingled from the pressure. My body had adjusted to the temperature, so the water felt at least a little warm. I didn't know how long I stood under it.

Damn, it felt good.

Slam.

I turned at the sound of the metal door to my stall ripping open to expose Jensen behind it. I yelped, scrambling back against the shower wall as far away as possible. Murderously, he surged forward. A wall of stone was erected behind him; I gulped.

Fight or flight, Sage. I thought to myself. Fight.

My hand in the air sent the shower's spray into Jensen's face, and I ran past him. I dismantled his wall and sprinted down an adjacent tunnel.

Where the hell is Hansen?

Fire seared into my back. Screaming, I fell to the ground. My body burned, but I staggered to my feet anyway, desperate to get away. He was behind me, and closing in fast. All I could do was run blindly into the tunnels.

"Not this time, bitch!" Jensen yelled from behind me. I ignored him and pushed myself to go faster. He roared in fury, and another wall blocked the entirety of the tunnel in the blink of an eye. I slammed into it.

"No, no, no, no!" I shrieked. I shoved against it, banging my fists, putting as much mental concentration into it that I had. Nothing happened. I tried again and again and again, all while I tried not to panic at his approaching footsteps. By the time be arrived, I'd exhausted myself mentally. I was done for.

"Help!" I screamed, hoping the tunnels didn't lead to nowhere. "Hansen! Noah! Cat! Someone, please!"

"You think that'll work? These tunnels go on for miles." He chuckled evilly from behind me.

I turned to face him. "Jen-Jensen, please. Just let me go, and I'll leave and I-I won't come back. I swear!"

"And let you expose the camp? Kill more people? Like hell." Another wall went up behind him.

"Jensen, ple-"

"Stop begging!" he thundered.

Suddenly, stone from his wall encased my hands and feet entirely. Panicked, I tried to yank them free, only to get scrapes. My heartbeat pounded in my head and only got faster as he approached.

He laughed at my struggle. "Pathetic. All those powers and you can't even free yourself. Weak mutt."

He knew I couldn't free myself. He knew I could only heal and kill effectively. He knew. And he'd only manipulated that to his advantage. He'd trapped me here - weak, naked, and afraid - and he was reveling in his sick triumph.

"Je-"

Stone encased my neck, cutting me off and choking me. "Shut up."

Jensen walked in front of me, looking me over as if he were surveying me. I stared back as hard as I could, but in truth I could barely breathe. My mind was reeling from the implications of this capture. I knew it was my dead end. He'd get what he wanted: to kill the freak before she could kill him. He'd revel in every second of my agony.

"You know, I almost never thought that it'd be this easy to get you alone. I never thought Hansen would be stupid enough to leave you. But here we are," He looked me up and down again, a predatory, wolfish grin on his face. I was sick to my stomach. "I might as well have some fun before you die."

He walked closer, still surveying. He lifted a hand, experimentally laying it on my waist. I kept still, holding my breath. The other hand was put on the other side. I closed my eyes, trying to push back into the wall. His hands slid upward, grabbing my bare breasts, and I struggled. I couldn't rip away from him. I couldn't talk, and I could barely move. But I struggled as hard as I could before he simply struck me across the face, making me see stars.

"The more you struggle the more painful your death will be!" He hissed, and a shock shot through me. I saw stars. "You know what? Let's make this more fun,"

Suddenly, my throat was free. He leaned in, and I heard the clank of a metal belt buckle. I gulped. His face was so close to mine as his hands ran down my body, shocking me with tiny, excruciating pinpricks of electricity. He smirked, whispering, "Scream for me."

I did.

I screamed until I could scream no longer, and that was millennia after I was wishing for the sweet release of death.

****

Death came knocking too damn late. It'd made sure I knew how much I could want it before arriving. Death made sure I was violated and tortured to its brink before pulling me over the edge. When it did, I was ready. I welcomed it with open arms, or would've if I could've.

Willfully, I sank into the bliss of numb, empty blackness.