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A hand grips my shoulder and I tense up. There are lips by my ear. Hot breath trailing down the nape of my neck. A deep voice. Damien’s voice. And one word. “Tonight.” His hand leaves my shoulder and I spin around to notice he’s gone. An ache throbs in my heart, but that ache fades fast when I come to the conclusion that he wants to plot our escape. A smile curls on my lips. See, I’m not like the girls here when it comes to living in fear. Yes, certain things or circumstances frighten me, but I’d rather go down fighting than sit around and do nothing.
~ ~ ~
Aurora hasn’t spoken to me since dinner.
At lights out, we both lie on our cots the sound of our breathing swells and cuts into the silence in our small, square room. Footsteps and muffled voices bleed through the walls and I wait until thirty minutes after they fade to make a move. Creeping out of bed, I hover over Aurora, my eyes darting over her face. I poke her with my finger. She groans, still in a deep sleep then rolls over, her body facing the tan plaster wall.
I wait another ten minutes. Then I crack my door. My eyes sweep the corridor. The eerie quiet fills my ears and the flickering lights burn my eyes. With one last look at Aurora I slip out into the hall, close the door softly, and sneak off to meet Damien.
He’s already in the utility closet when I arrive and he blankets me with his arms the minute I step through the door. His hands touch my cheeks and send warmth throughout my body. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, his lips against my forehead. He kisses me softly.
I let out a soft giggle. “You just saw me.”
He smiles and his bright white teeth gleam in the light, practically blinding me. “Seeing you for a few seconds or minutes isn’t enough. It will never be enough.”
I give a slight nod in agreement. Even when I see him, I feel like my heart is splitting in half, knowing that our encounter will be brief. “Have you come up with some kind of plan?”
He peers down at me and raises an eyebrow. “Plan?”
“You know,” I say. “For us to escape.”
“Oh,” he sighs. “I’m still coming up with one.”
I pull away from him, staring up at him, baffled. “But I thought that’s why you wanted me to meet you?”
He wraps his arms around me tighter. “Is it a crime that I just wanted to see you?” There’s a smile in his voice. “After all, you are the love of my life.”
“No,” I say, my voice filled with slight disappointment.
Damien catches on, noticing the quiver in my voice. He grabs my chin with his thumb and forefinger, jerking it in the direction of his face. “Don’t be sad, beautiful.” He lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his nose along my cheek. “These plans take time to develop.”
“I know. It’s just I feel like this place is eating away at little pieces of me every day. Your mention of a plan gave me hope, you know?”
His blue blue eyes flit across my face. There’s a tortured look in his eyes and it’s like my pain is his pain. “I promise you, love,” he begins, “I’ll come up with something first thing tomorrow.”
“You swear?” He’s never broken a promise to me, but something about this encounter seems off.
He makes an X on his chest. “On my life.”
I rest my head on his chest. I wait for his heartbeat to blast through my eardrums. The gentle steady beat. Pounding. Thumping. But it never does.
I don’t realize I’m being pulled away from him until I hear Marjorie’s voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Her manly hands are on my biceps. Damien is reaching for me and screaming at Marjorie, a scowl on his lips. “Let her go!” He starts for me, but Marjorie drags me out into the hall and slams the door to the utility closet in Damien’s face.
“No!” I try to stretch my arms, but Marjorie digs her fingertips in deep. I move forward with force, taking Marjorie with me for a few steps before she regains control and yanks me backward. I stumble, almost falling. My shrieks coat the walls of the corridor and I notice that a few patients have opened their doors. In a panic my head whips back toward the utility room door. Damien is opening it and running toward us. I straighten my fingers. “Damien!”
Marjorie drags me past my door and I glare at Aurora. She stares off blankly, a frown on her lips. “Did you do this?” I shout accusingly. “Did you tell? Aurora how could you?”
She doesn’t confirm my accusation, but she doesn’t deny it either. All she does is exhale before slamming the door to our room. Dr. Morrow comes stampeding down the hall with another nurse. In his hand is a mind erasing drug. I’m about to be sick. The hall spins around me in circles and if Marjorie wasn’t holding my arms so tight, I know I’d hit my knees. For once I’m actually thankful that she’s holding me so tight.
I dig my heels into the floor several times, trying to stomp on her toes, but she’s quick, and on top of that, she knows that I’d try something like that to break free. I sneer up at the scowl on her lips. She’s gloating. It’s like she’s saying; Yes, you little psycho bitch. I’ve outsmarted you.
I whip my hair back and forth, trying to get it in Marjorie’s face, but she keeps her grip on me and leans away from my wild hair. After Dr. Morrow shouts a command, the two nurses pin me down on the freezing tile floor. I squirm beneath their grasp, kicking, and screaming so loud that my throat is raw and my voice is hoarse. Tears matriculate in my eyes and I blink them back, my eyes desperately scanning the hall for Damien. Where is he? I saw him running after us.
Dr. Morrow crouches down in front of me, a syringe in his hand. He tests the needle to air it out and I watch the drugs inside spout from the tip in an arc. Dr. Morrow’s eyes center on me and I notice the annoyed look in them. He brings the needle close to my arm. “This should shut you up for a while.”
I try to wiggle, but can’t. Marjorie has both my arms and the other nurse has both of my legs. My mid-section is writhing, but that’s not going to get me anywhere. Dr. Morrow is a bastard. I hate him with a passion. He’s the creator of the Oakhill zombie army. Zombies like Suzette, probably Cynthia, and God knows who else. I may be immobilized, but I’m not out of options. I gather as much saliva as I can in my mouth, roll it around in a wad on my tongue and when Dr. Morrow is an inch away I spit in his face then shriek as loud as I can.
