The Runaway

Chapter 7

Valerie reached the sandstone building just as another teenager was walking out. He didn't look too happy, frowning as he sped down the stairs, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He barely looked her way as he passed. Valerie pushed the glass door open and immediately rushed through the cream hallway, stopping at the solid set of doors at the end. She knocked calmly, trying not to let her curiosity get the better of her.

"Door's open." Was heard from within. She opened the door and slipped in, shutting it gently behind her. Inside everything was just as it had been last time except that there was an old-fashioned notepad sitting on the tabletop. Preacher smiled at her, gesturing for her to sit.

Get out of here. I don't like it. Get out, please.

She ignored the voice even as it grew more persistent.

"Valerie, pleasure to see you." He smiled, a little too gap-toothed for her liking. Preacher had lost most of his teeth and only replaced a few - the little he could afford.

"Sir."

"I've got some good news, Valerie. I can get you transferred from that job that you most detest. Problem is we might have to start with a small step- how would you like to be my personal assistant? A helper and a guard of sorts - like Callum. Would you be interested in that?" He folded his hands on the table.

Are you sure about this? Please don't say yes.

Valerie nodded with enthusiasm, perched on the edge of her seat. She was flooded with relief. She had thought that bad news had awaited her within these walls. Besides, any job was better than a position in a nursery.

He smiled again, the lines around his worn face crinkling. "I thought you'd say that. If you don't mind-" Preacher reached for the notepad and pulled a pen from his breast pocket.

"I'd just like to go through a couple of questions. He thumbed through the pages, choosing a fresh one. His pen was poised, waiting for her reply.

"No problem. Take it away, Sir." She said, even though this was alarmingly similar to the interview she had gone through just a week ago.

No-NO. Okay, lie. If he asks about anything personal, lie.

"Excellent. Now let us start from the beginning. How'd you first get into the Institute?"

Easy questions, nothing too probing. Everything was fine. She relaxed significantly.

"I signed up for the random selection and was luckily chosen."

"Aha. And how did you find orientation?"

"From what I can remember it was good. A few too many blood and urine tests for my liking. There was this one thing but I don't really remember. . ." Her words faded into silence.

"Please try, Valerie. Come on." He said kindly, reaching over the desk to pat her arm.

Don't do it. Don't do it-

"I think I may be making this up but I remember a room with a bed thing- like a reclining chair. Something to do with a test. It was all white- except for the yellow roof. I think. Maybe it was blue. Anyways I remember lying there. Everything seemed to move slow and I'd drift in and out of consciousness and see people hovering over me. There was pain for some time- numbness and fire and. . .I'm sorry I-I can't." Recalling that much had made her heart beat increase dramatically. She twisted her hands together uncomfortably, looking down into her lap.

She sometimes had nightmares of the scene she had described - but they were usually grossly exaggerated with the people holding her down while their performed unspeakable monstrosities.

"Mhm. And how has that affected you? Any strange occurrences, dreams for example? Sudden urges to do things for no apparent reason? Instincts take over?"

Don't tell him about me. Lie. Make something up. Tell him something different. Anything.

Valerie seemed to realised that she had stepped into dangerous territory - that this interrogation was of something more ominous. Grimacing for effect, she continued.

"Well I do have dreams about it. I dream that I'm one of the people looking down at myself. I seem. . . happy." She swallowed hard, hoping that Preacher would buy it.

He nodded, stroking his goatee and leaning back in his chair with a crease between his eyebrows. Apparently he had but he didn't look too happy about it.

"Interesting. Well, nothing out of the ordinary."

Valerie dared to speak up. "Sir, if I may, I believe that I may have rushed into this decision. I may need more time to think about it - I have a lot going on right now-"

'I completely understand, Val. There's no guaranteeing that you'll be chosen - there are a lot of potential candidates.  I'll contemplate my decision. Thank you for your time." Preacher turned his chair around, the back facing Valerie. As quietly as she could, she got up and left the room- trying not to seem desperate to get out of his presence.

Told you something was wrong.

It was right. Something was deeply wrong. Preacher had been acting differently, more erratic. He had been holed up in his office half of the time - stuck in strange meetings that no one knew the details of. Valerie was worried - something big was happening and she had no clue where she stood in relation to it. 

She decided to look for Cole, not knowing who else to spend time with. He was found tinkering with a backup generator behind the sheds that had finally kicked the bucket. She sat on the generator, content to listen to him hum as his fingers danced over the insides of the machine.

"Watcha thinking about, Val?" He said, breaking the lull that had settled between them.

She shrugged. "Just stuff. Do you know why Preacher brought this feast up by two weeks?"

Cole laughed, accidently hitting his head on the open lid. He sat there rubbing his head and pushed his glasses up his nose. "If I knew how Preacher thought then I would also be able to tell you your future just by looking up at the stars. The guy's got a few screw's loose - he's old. Who knows how his mind works." He wasn't much help to Valerie who was trying to resolve the puzzling situation before her.

Cole kept interrupting her thought process with some sort of trivial observation or a fact that he felt was his duty to tell. She tuned out after a while, Cole still spouting meaningless phrases in an attempt to sound smarter than he actually was. He might have been a genius but Cole was foolish when it came to sustaining a thriving conversation.

Valerie decided to return to her room to pursue some rest before the feast and to mull over what she had just experienced. On the way back she realised something that nearly made her stop in her tracks:

For the first time in all her years of knowing her Preacher hadn't offered her a coffee.