Page 10 of Burning Love (The Lost World #5)

10

SOPHIA

S ophia lay on the cot. She could barely move. Instead, she stared at the peeling ceiling. It felt as though her mind was just as trapped as her body. Alex was nowhere to be seen. The weight of the silence around her felt so oppressive. She could hear the faint rustle of movement, the soft shuffle of boots on cracked concrete, and the muffled buzz of voices. It wasn’t Alex. They were male voices.

She had been ready for death, for the moment when her body would betray her, when the fever would become too much to bear, and her soul would depart, leaving only hunger behind. Everyone else had expected it too. And Alex. Alex had been almost ready to end her.

Her skin had burned. She remembered the sensation. Her bones had ached, a fire racing beneath the surface, fierce and unforgiving. It was as though she had tasted the sharp bite of infection—the kind that had taken down so many people. She had felt it. She knew the hunger would follow soon after. She remembered wanting Alex to see it through.

But then it hadn’t happened.

The heat that had consumed her body had slowly faded, leaving her drained, hollow, but still very much herself. Still Sophia. As she had later proved when she and Alex found themselves alone.

She wasn’t sure if or how well she had slept, and time had become a blur. Her thoughts seemed to be slipping between moments of clarity and the haze of what she believed were memories. All she knew was that…

She wasn’t one of them.

But it was when they realized she wasn’t turning that the panic set in. The real panic. Not turning was almost worse somehow.

She could hear it again—rising voices outside, frantic and disjointed. The news had, of course, spread like wildfire. Sophia wasn’t dead. She hadn’t become one of them. How?

Some people thought it was a miracle. Maybe even a blessing. Some whispered about a cure, about hope. She had heard the word cure spoken in hushed tones the night before, like a prayer, like a lifeline. Maybe they had seen her survival as the first sign of something more, something that could lead to salvation. Who was it they’d wanted to send for? Some scientist?

But others? Ellen and her cronies? Tromer? Henry? Miller and the other soldier-types? Sophia could only imagine that fear must be clawing at them, growing like a weed in the dark. How would they ever accept that someone had survived, that someone had made it through the transition?

But Sophia wasn’t a miracle. She was an anomaly, sure. An error in the system, maybe. But she no longer believed in miracles.

Alex’s quarters felt like a cage. She knew there’d be people standing guard outside the door. She could sense the tension in the air as the powers-that-be were obviously trying to figure out what to do with her. She no longer felt like one of the survivors. She felt like an experiment about to happen. But where was Alex? Alex would never let it happen. Would she?

“Has anyone tested her blood? Back at Redford, we—” She heard a woman’s voice, cold and analytical, demanding answers.

“What are we even testing for? She’s different. We don’t even know what happened to her. The fever broke?—”

“Then it’s a miracle. Let’s see what she’s capable of,” the woman replied. It wasn’t Ellen. So, who was it?

“I’m not some lab rat,” Sophia whispered to herself so that nobody would hear. She wanted to scream it, though. She wanted to shout it into the silence, but her throat felt like it was filled with glass. If they believed she was a miracle, what would they do to her? Was she one?

She closed her eyes in an attempt to steady her breathing. It wasn’t her fault that she was alive. She had expected to fall into the abyss. But somehow, the disease had slipped past her, as if it had found no purchase in her veins.

And now, those in charge wanted to know who exactly, or what, she was. Could they figure out how to replicate it? Is that what they saw her as? A tool? Something to be used in their quest for control… or power?

“Keep her under watch,” a voice said just outside the door. She recognized it. It sounded just like Henry, and there was no mistaking the authority in his tone. “Orders are that we need to learn more about this. Whatever she is, she can’t leave until we know what’s going on here.”

Where the fuck are you, Alex?

* * *

Sophia woke up, no longer in Alex’s room, but in what she imagined was once a sterile, white room, with a dead fluorescent light just above her head. The walls around her were a blank canvas of coldness—a small window above the door was the only source of light.

Have I been drugged? How did I get here? Where are you, Alex?

She felt like she had somehow entered a place beyond time itself, where seconds and minutes meant nothing. As she lay there, the last twelve hours or so came back to her.

They must have moved so quickly, isolating her under the pretense of precautionary measures . She had been too stunned by the suddenness of it all to question it at first. All she could think was, Where’s Alex? Where’s Alex? They’d promised her she would be treated for her injuries and that they were making sure she was okay. But it had quickly turned into something else. The first tests had been simple—blood work, temperature checks, and samples taken with clinical efficiency. But where were they even getting these things tested? She had agreed to them without hesitation. She hadn’t dared refuse.

The first few rounds of questions had seemed like nothing beyond what she would have expected.

“What exactly did you feel when you were bitten?”

Her throat tightened at the memory. She hadn’t felt the bite at first. But then it felt like an electric shock, something she could only describe as such. She remembered the way it burned. She remembered how it had felt like her very blood was fighting to stay human. But they didn’t need to know that.

“Do you think you’ve always been immune? Have you been bitten before?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Immune? How would she have ever known such a thing? And sure, she just ran around getting bitten as often as she could…what a stupid question. It felt more like an insult than anything else.

“Did your parents ever mention anything strange about your health?”

They were really reaching now, weren’t they? The questions were probing deeper, like sharp fingers clawing beneath her skin. She had answered each one as truthfully as she could, even though every answer seemed to only lead to more questions. The curiosity in their eyes, the quiet exchange of glances, was beginning to gnaw at her resolve.

Where the hell is my Alex?

The prodding continued, both physical and psychological. The cold of the metal beneath her, the way the hands on her body felt too clinical, too impersonal. It made her skin crawl. She had been moved to a smaller room. The surface she was lying on was hard and unforgiving. The walls around her had no sense of space. There was no warmth in her world now. She hoped if she complied, she’d stay safe.

The next round of tests was harsher—fragments of flesh ripped from her with a scalpel so sharp it almost felt like it was cutting into her very soul. Her skin stung, the red liquid pooling into sterile vials, but the doctors or scientists or soldiers—whoever they were—barely seemed to notice. Their eyes were trained on the instruments in their hands, not the person they were violating.

The sharp sting of pain was ignored because it wasn’t about her pain. It wasn’t about her. It was about the data, about understanding. She had stopped being Sophia. She had stopped being a person. She had become a specimen—a thing to be studied, analyzed, and dissected.

No one had asked for her consent. Not once. Was that not a thing anymore?

The smell of antiseptic clung to her skin, to her hair. She couldn’t tell if she was clean anymore or if she was just being scrubbed raw. Time had no meaning here. She was no longer sure if it had been hours or days she had spent in their hands. All she knew was that she was experiencing an ever-growing sense that her life was slipping away with every test.

Food was brought, but she couldn’t eat it. Not because it didn’t smell or look good (because it did), but because she couldn’t bring herself to consume anything in this place. The hunger gnawed at her. It left her feeling sick, helpless, unable to do anything but stare at what had been placed in front of her.

Each hour bled into the next.

“We could try controlled exposure,” one of them said matter-of-factly.

Sophia’s breath hitched; the implications of their words slamming into her like a wrecking ball. She’d heard this before. Back on the compound. Controlled exposure. They weren’t trying to help her. They were using her as a living experiment. Nothing more.

That was when she knew. These people had no intention of ever allowing her to leave this place. Not unless she made a choice. Not unless she took control.

Her thoughts turned again to Alex, to her voice—strong, sure, unwavering. “ I won’t let this happen .” Alex’s words echoed in her mind, a lifeline that kept her tethered to who she really was.

And in those moments, when she could no longer feel her own body, when the weight of their hands on her skin made her feel like nothing more than a hollow shell, she held onto those words and the thought of the woman she was beginning to have genuine feelings for. She clung to the idea of her lover because it was the only thing that made sense anymore. The only thing that felt real.

Out of nowhere, there was a rise in the tension in the air—a shifting tone. She overheard the guards arguing somewhere outside the room, their voices sharp and full of fear.

“She’s valuable,” one guard muttered, his voice strained. “Could we not make some use of that? Imagine what we’d get for her.”

“No. She’s dangerous,” came the reply, tinged with uncertainty. “I don’t think she is immune. I think she’s one of them. She’s changed, but she’s hiding it well. Zombie Version two-point-oh.”

“What if she’s the key to all this, though?” another voice chimed in.

Sophia’s heart skipped a beat as she blinked away her tears. The final realization burned through her like fire. They had made their decision. They were going to use her until there was nothing left, until the data ran dry, until they had squeezed every last ounce of usefulness from her body. She wasn’t a survivor. She was a test subject. And no matter how they saw her, she couldn’t stay here.

Not anymore.

Sophia found the energy to sit upright on the edge of her cot, her body aching in the aftermath of the last endless round of prodding and poking. Her hands rested limply in her lap, fingers trembling slightly from exhaustion. The compound was so much better than this place. This place was an actual cage. The fact that she had survived changed everything—not just for her, but for everyone inside these walls. She had to get out. But how?

Then, raised voices. Arguing.

Sophia flinched, the sound slicing through the stagnant air like a blade. It came from somewhere down the corridor—outrage. Alex. She’d come.

Her stomach twisted, nausea creeping up her throat. She had learned to endure pain in silence, to swallow every cry, every gasp, because weakness only made things worse. But what was happening with Alex?

Sophia’s breath came in short, uneven bursts. She wanted to move, to do something, but all she could do was sit there, nails digging into her palms, helpless rage curling inside her chest.

The angry voices faded.

Silence.

A shudder ran down her spine.

She barely had time to steady herself before there was a soft knock at her door.

She barely had the strength to answer, her voice a strange, weak murmur. “Alex?”

“It’s me,” came the low, firm reply.

Sophia opened the door just enough to see her, her heart stuttering at the sight of the woman who had come to mean so much to her. Alex’s expression was tight, her eyes sharp with determination. There was something different about her tonight. A weight in her stance, a finality in her gaze.

“Where have you been, Alex? How long have I been here? What are they doing with me?”

“A couple of days. I’m so sorry, Soph. I had to make my way here on foot. They drugged me. I had to find my way on foot.”

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” Sophia’s crackled voice mumbled.

“Yes. Just about. I’m happy I’ve found you. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“No. I don’t think they’re going to let me leave. Like ever,” Sophia whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. “I’m not sure this is real life anymore.”

Alex’s jaw clenched. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Sophia blinked. “What?”

Alex stepped closer, lowering her voice, as if the very walls might betray them. “I’ve seen this before. In the forces. When someone is too valuable to let go, they just don’t let them go. They won’t stop. Whatever it is they’ve been doing here. The tests, the experiments—they’ll keep pushing until there’s nothing left of you. Jesus. What have they done to you?”

Sophia swallowed hard, looking away.

A gentle touch on her arm brought her back to reality. Alex’s hand was warm, grounding. “We need to leave. Not now. It’s too risky. Tomorrow night. I’ve got to make it seem normal for now.”

“Will they let you stay here?”

“Yes. They’ll let me stay. That’s been negotiated. They need me back at the compound. Shit’s gotten out of hand, and I bargained with them when I arrived, that if I couldn’t stay with you, I’d try to end them all. And that I would never enter the compound, and they will need me there. We’re valuable to them. So, nothing will happen to me here. I had to go along with it to see you; I had to tell them I agree with their choice to experiment with you. It was the only way. They think I’m on their side, but I promise, I’m not.”

Despite Alex’s words, fear curled in Sophia’s stomach, but beneath it, something else flickered.

Hope. A way out. She met Alex’s gaze, something unspoken passing between them. It seemed too good to be possible.

She nodded. “Okay. I’m just relieved you’re here.”

That night, the weight of their plans pressed on them. There was an unspoken tension hanging in the air, thick with fear and need as they lay together.

In the stillness, Alex kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was urgent and desperate—a collision of lips and breath that carried with it so much longing, fear, and an unyielding desire to remind themselves they were alive.

Alex’s hands traced the bruises on Sophia’s arms. She could see the anger bubbling up in her eyes. They had taken too much from Sophia already. But she knew Alex was here and wouldn’t let it happen anymore.

Alex was going to take Sophia back.

* * *

The next night, they moved through the empty corridors in silence, their movements fluid and synchronized, as if they had been doing this their whole lives. Alex explained to Sophia that she had studied everything—the security routines, the guards’ shift pattern, the weak spots in the perimeter just outside the building. Sophia trusted that Alex knew exactly where to go and exactly how to move.

But at the same time… nothing ever went as planned.

The building was eerily quiet as they slipped through the exit, their footsteps muffled by the concrete floor. Sophia’s hand felt so cold; her fingers gripped Alex’s tightly as they neared the outer fence. The faint scent of woodsmoke filled Sophia’s lungs as she inhaled deeply, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond. The promise of freedom was now so close, so tangible, that she could almost taste it.

Then, the alarm blared.

Alex cursed under her breath as Sophia’s body froze in fear. “Run!” Alex hissed, pulling Sophia with her.

As they started to sprint, Sophia could feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins. She could almost hear her heart thudding in her chest, echoing in the still night air. They bolted for the fence. Sophia, despite years of ballet training, felt her body pushed to its limit.

The first guard appeared before them; his weapon raised. But Alex was fast. She lunged, slamming the butt of her knife into his temple with a sickening crack, sending him crumpling to the ground. Sophia didn’t hesitate. She kept moving, hand firmly in Alex’s, her eyes wild with fear but filled with a sliver of hope.

Oh, Jesus! She killed him! He was human! Shit!

More guards flooded the perimeter, their shouts barely reaching Sophia’s ears as she gaped at Alex, whose instincts had clearly kicked in. It was chaos—blades flashing in the moonlight, fists colliding with flesh, bodies tumbling to the ground. Alex moved like a force of nature, precise and lethal, cutting through the guards with brutal efficiency. Blood splattered across her hands, her face, as she took down one man after another, her breath ragged and fast as Sophia stood, motionless, in complete disbelief.

But then a gunshot rang out.

“Sophia, move! We need to get out of here! What are you doing?”

Sophia’s vision blurred for a moment, but she stepped forward and grabbed Alex’s hand, her grip unyielding.

“Let’s go! Now!”