“Don’t let go, Eden.” He grips tighter to the fencing with his one good arm. The last thought in my mind before slipping off to sleep is how the saying ‘on the fence,’ is a weird saying.
5. CALEB
The shooting pain from my dislocated fingers up my arm has dulled. Sharp pulses of pain radiate from the entry point of the bullet near my shoulder. I’m either transcending the pain or I’m losing my life. At one point, Eden was humming Amazing Grace and it seemed like a sign from God that we would make it out of this alive. I’m not so sure now. Eden keeps dozing off and the woods seem to go on forever. I’ve started to head in the direction of what sounds like road noise. My mind is in pieces again. Just like before I can’t order my thoughts. Was Keir with us? Do I remember seeing my brother? My mind keeps trying to grasp onto something important just out of reach.
Jostling my damaged arm and hand, I try to pick up the pace of my jogging. Eden is no longer responding to me. “Dear heavenly father, please guide my footsteps. Lead us to safety… please God…,” I whisper fervently. I may not be worthy of his grace, but Eden is. She’s a kindhearted and compassionate person, who has already suffered so much in life. She doesn’t deserve to endure this.
“Eden, wake up.” I shake the fencing hoping to rouse her. “Stay awake, okay?” If she hears me, she doesn’t respond. How long have we been out here? I cough and pull my hand away from my mouth to see dark spatter. Blood. I need to hold on long enough to get Eden help.
A deer startles me to a halt running across my path. The doe stops and stares in my direction, before continuing to race away. I almost drop Eden. I’m not sure why, but I decide to follow the deer’s direction. In the hopes that it’s God’s way of providing guidance. A muffled moan meets my ear next to where Eden’s head lies on my shoulder. Please God, don’t take her yet. Let her find her brother and happiness before she’s done here.
I lean against a tree and struggle to draw a good breath into my lungs. My body is shutting down, but I’m used to pushing my body to the brink. Mind over matter. I set Eden and the fencing her lower half is still bound to down on the ground to check on her. “Eden?” I brush her hair from her face, and she stirs. “Hold on, okay? I’m going to get us help.” On my honor, I’m going to make my existence mean something. “Hey, can you open your eyes? Open your eyes, sweet angel. Please… please.” My cough comes with more blood.
I straighten and catch a little light bobbing in the distance. No, two lights. They’re uneven, not headlights. I squint in the direction they’re in. Flashlights? Enemy or help? Since I don’t have any idea who the enemy is at this point, I can’t be too careful. If my chat with Keir taught me anything, it’s that I’m too trusting. Someone in the Center was drugging me, and now I’ve been shot. Blind terror starts to set in.
Squatting down next to Eden, I check her pulse and see that her chest is rising. “We need to get moving again, Eden. Can you open your eyes?” I whisper into her ear.
Her eyelids flutter open briefly and her dark blue eyes look reddened. “Good. You’re still with me.” I squeeze one of her hands. “This might hurt you, but I have to pick you back up. Don’t worry, I’ll carry you, you don’t have to hold onto me.” She’s too weakened and drowsy to hang on anymore.
The lights are moving towards us, so I take every opportunity to shield us behind trees. In the distance now I can see a building of some sort. It gives me a shot of hope, the fact that help could be a couple minutes away. I hate the fact that I’m jarring Eden with each step because in cradling her in my arms the fencing moves constantly.
Eden’s arms suddenly flail, and she shrieks in terror, “Stop. Don’t send the crows. I didn’t mean it!” Her outburst catches me off guard and I barely stop myself from dropping her.
“Shhh. We aren’t alone out here. Eden?” I try to get her attention as quietly as possible.
We breach the tree line into a grassy area surrounding a brick building with three floors of boarded up or broken windows. It’s abandoned. My heart sinks. We can’t hole up in the building waiting for death to descend on us. I quickly turn and head back into the trees for cover.
“That’s not going to work,” I say softly to myself since Eden’s passed out again.
Leaning against a tree, my breathing is getting thready. I’m close to passing out. Dear heavenly Father, please hear me. I tried. I tried to be good. I won’t ask you to spare my life, but I beg you to work a miracle in Eden’s life. Give her a chance to fulfill her purpose here on Earth. In your name I pray, amen. I lay her as gently as I can next to me, as I half fall to the ground. It won’t be long now.
6. BLAINE
If I ever have to drink toilet water coffee from a Styrofoam cup again, I’ll go ballistic. At least I’ve sobered up. Nurse Ratchet won’t quit checking on me and throwing judgy looks my way. She also has no useful information for me. It’s clear that the FBI placed an agent outside of Keir’s door. He’s still out cold.
“Any word?” I ask the doctor passing by me after coming out of his room.
“Sorry, no. We’re waiting for some scan results. Your friend took quite a blow to the back of his head.” I appreciate his candor, even if that’s not the news I wanted to hear. I nod at him sitting back in the hard plastic chair.
I’ve sent over a dozen text messages to Matt, and he hasn’t read them or responded to one. I’m in a place between anger and despondency. Pushing him towards frustration is slowly losing its appeal. I just want news on Eden. One of the nurses turns up the television hanging on the wall in the waiting room to hear the news. The screen shows a fresh faced ingenue of a news anchor standing across the street from the Wellness Center. His salmon-colored polo shirt matching the pallor of his skin, in the summer heat. At the bottom of the screen is the scrolling headline. ‘Attacks and disappearances threaten the Horizon Wellness Center’
“Can you turn it up?” I walk closer to the television. How is this going to get spun?
“…the official statement given by the director of the Center, Dr. Richardson, is that misinformation was leaked earlier about an attack on a patient, and the disappearance of another patient and a graduate student involved with a documentary that HBO has been filming. According to his statement the FBI has been onsite as a protective detail for one of the cult survivors and they have everything under control. No one is missing and the attack was a self-inflicted wound from a disturbed survivor.” Fucking absolute bullshit. Damnit. My fists clench and the sudden rage I’m feeling is bubbling under my skin. “The FBI can’t be reached for comment, and none of the staff are willing to give interviews.” It’s likely that the Center has issued a gag order warning to them regarding the matter. “HBO documentary producer, David Havland, states that they are still filming, and the study is continuing at this time.” They pan the camera around the perimeter of the Wellness Center, and it looks like business as usual. Those fucking piece of shit liars.
The nurse that turned the sound up, raises her eyebrows. “Not exactly the God’s honest truth, eh?” She knows that Keir didn’t smash the back of his own head in. “That’s the media for you. Regurgitating garbage all the time.” She flips the channel until she finds a sitcom rerun and then turns it back down.
I make my way into Keir’s room. I’ve only been here twice since he was admitted. He’s hooked up to machines, and with the bandaged head and bruising to the side of his face, he looks like he’s on death’s doorstep. It’s disturbing and I’m not good with that. “Hey man.” I awkwardly slump into the bedside chair. “You’ve looked better. Hospital gowns aren’t your thing apparently. The headwrap is a little garish, too, to be honest.” He’s not listening, I’m sure, and I have no idea what to say. It’s not like he’s going to laugh at my lame jokes.
We sit in silence as I think about the fact that he has no one. If it were me in this hospital bed, my parents, grandparents, circle of friends, and fellow graduate students would all be here. He has just me and the FBI agent paid to stand watch. Eden would be here. Likely Caleb. But where are they? That starts a spiral in my thinking that makes me even more miserable.
“Well, defying any rational reasoning the Center is lying about everything that happened. Imagine that. But, I mean, who am I to get angry about unethical behavior, right?” I pick at the loose thread at the bottom of my shirt. “Makes me want to throat punch each and every one of those fuckers.” I might need some anger management. “Here’s to hoping you wake the fuck up and tell everyone and their Goddamn uncle the fucking truth.” Keir could be the key to finding Eden. Plus, I like the idea that I might be needed by him, too.
I didn’t intend to walk over to the Wellness Center after sitting by Keir’s bedside rambling to myself for an hour, but that’s what I did. Each step driving home the need for answers. I could care less if I encounter Dr. Hart, I’m going back to Eden’s room. Now that the shock of what I discovered has worn off, maybe something will give me a hint of where she might be.
The red-haired nurse, Kim, intercepts me after I stride into the lobby. “Excuse me…,” she calls out and waves her arm to get my attention. “Hello?” She cuts me off, before I can march towards the doctors’ offices. She was the nurse we started to trust our secrets to. The one that gave Narcan to Eden, provided her information about the D wing, and who turned the other way when we were talking to the survivors outside of session times.
“I need to have a word with someone. Now.” I don’t mean to direct my anger at her, but she’s the one getting in my way.
