Page 18

18

Lara

A woman’s scream pierces the heavy, humid air, and I run outside with the other new recruits into the dark night to find out what’s happening. We stop at the bottom of the stairs leading to our cabin and look around for a clue to who screamed and why, but it’s impossible to see anything in the pitch black.

Beside me, Cheyenne whispers, “Maybe we shouldn’t be out here alone. It’s so dark, and God only knows what lives in those woods over there.”

Another scream makes us all stiffen in pure terror, and she grabs my hand, squeezing tightly. “Oh my God! We need to go back in!”

Cheyenne begins to cry, so Bethany tries to make her feel better. “It’s okay. Probably one of the women here saw a bug. You’ll see. It’ll be fine.”

Nothing she says stops Cheyenne from crying, but I’m not surprised. I’ve never heard anyone scream like that because of a bug. It would have to be one of those giant Australian spiders that take up half the side of a house to make me scream like that.

In a tiny voice, she asks, “Where is everyone? Those screams were real, weren’t they?”

I nod, but before I can tell her she’s not imagining anything, suddenly, light after light turns on around the farm as the rest of the group reacts to the terrifying sound. I don’t know why, but seeing everything illuminated doesn’t ease my fears, and I tighten my hold on Cheyenne’s hand as I lift my arm up to shade my eyes from the bright lights.

I see no other group members are standing outside like us, though. Didn’t they hear the screams? They must have. Someone turned all those lights on.

Nadine storms out of a building at the other end of the compound and begins to march toward us. Terrific. Just what frightened women need. The camp nazi. Another woman I’ve never seen before follows her, and I brace for twice as much rage.

They stop a few feet away from us, and although no one says a thing, the sense of fear surrounding us grows now that Nadine has appeared. Cheyenne lets out a tiny whimper when the nasty woman herself looks in our direction, and I wish I could let her know she’s not the one Nadine is glaring at, but I don’t dare say a word right now. Something tells me if I utter a single syllable, I’m going to find myself in even deeper trouble than before, and the last thing I want to deal with is her four-man goon squad.

The other woman with her has a rounder face that seems kinder, so I focus on her and hope Cheyenne does the same. In the distance, I hear cabin doors open and see men begin to walk out of buildings at the edge of the farm. It doesn’t take them long to join us, but they look as confused as we are about who screamed. In addition to Nadine’s men, others I assume work for Micah appear with Nash and stop in the center of the compound.

“It’s all right, ladies. Why don’t we go to the mess hall and get something to eat? It will make us all feel better to have something in our stomachs,” the new woman says with a smile.

I sigh, happy she’ll be dealing with us instead of Nadine, a woman who I doubt has ever made anyone feel better with her presence. Cheyenne gradually lets go of my hand, and I turn to see she’s no longer scared.

“Food does sound good,” she says with a forced smile.

The woman takes her hand as she leads the way to our snack. “Exactly. I know when I can’t sleep a little bit to eat helps.”

Everyone agrees as we walk toward the mess hall, but I can’t help but think nobody had any problem sleeping until some woman screamed like she was having her soul ripped from her body. I know I shouldn’t be looking around, but I can’t help it. That scream came from someone in pain, and not a single soul around here seems to be investigating.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I see Nash watching me. He looks concerned, but I can’t imagine he cares that I’m disobeying what he told me. He’s one of Micah’s men, no matter how much he wants to pretend he’s not.

Maybe he’s worried about the woman who screamed, but if it’s that, perhaps he should start searching for her instead of staring at me. I hold his gaze the entire walk to the mess hall, and when I walk inside through the wood screen doors, I look back one last time to see him still watching me.

Even worse, Nadine can’t seem to take her eyes off me either. I want to run out of this building and shake them silly as I yell, “I’m not the one who screamed! Why aren’t you looking for her? You heard it just like we did, so what’s wrong with you?”

The woman sets down a tray of little vanilla iced cakes, a metal pitcher of lemonade, and some red plastic cups in the center of the table as we all sit down on the benches. “Here you go. I’m Maddie, by the way. Please don’t worry about the scream. We all have nightmares from time to time. That’s bound to happen as we shed our old life for the new one we can get from The Golden Light. I’m sure everything’s fine. These cakes are fresh, just made earlier today, so enjoy.”

As I reach for one of the treats and pour myself a cup of lemonade, I can’t tell if Maddie believes what she said about the woman who screamed. I’ve had terrible nightmares that made me sit bolt upright in bed drenched in a cold sweat, but never have I screamed like that or heard anyone make that kind of noise from a dream. I can’t know for sure, but that sounded like a woman experiencing some kind of excruciating pain.

Then I look at the women around me at the table and notice Mary isn’t with us. Where could she be?

It doesn’t take long before all of us are laughing and happy once again, as we’ve always been together since we first got here. Well, except for when we found Anna dead. I close my eyes as my body seems to completely relax after a few bites of the incredibly moist cake and a few sips of ice cold lemonade. The people who bake here really are quite talented. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a piece of cake more.

Maybe Maddie was right. Maybe we just needed something in our stomachs.

I don’t know how long we sit here because it feels like time is standing still, but after we all eat a piece of cake or two, Maddie comes back to the table and says, “Okay, everyone. Feeling better? Time to get back to bed.”

No one argues, and we all follow her out of the mess hall into the pitch black night. I wonder why nobody left even a single light for us to get back to our cabin, but I feel so tired that I can’t seem to form the words to ask the question.

Actually, I don’t feel tired. I feel relaxed. More relaxed than I’ve ever felt in my life.

My feet seem to know the way across the dirt compound, but Cheyenne grabs my hand again after a few steps and whispers, “I wish they had left a light on for us.”

I squeeze her fingers and smile, even though she can’t possibly see it in the pitch black of night that covers us. “It’s okay. We’re good. It’s just a few yards away.”

She sighs and eases her hold on my hand. “I know. I’ve just always been afraid of the dark.”

Her words seem to float through the air, nearly getting lost before they enter my ears. It’s the strangest thing. I hear them, but it’s like my brain doesn’t seem to know how to interpret what she’s saying.

When we finally reach the stairs up to our cabin, she lets go of my hand. “Thank you, Lara. I think I’m good as long as I hold on to the railing.”

In my head, I answer her, but I don’t know if the words actually make it out of my mouth. I must really be tired. Probably the adrenaline rush that happened when I heard that woman screaming finally wearing off. God, I bet I’ll be able to fall fast asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I take a deep breath in and realize I’m already in bed. How did that happen? I look up at the ceiling but can only see a faint outline of the white painted wood boards above me. I thought I’d fall asleep instantly. Everyone else has. Turning my head, I see Cheyenne in the bed next to me where Anna slept that first night. She’s snoring away fast asleep.

Maybe if I count sheep. That’s never worked, but I could try. One. Two. Oh, I didn’t imagine them jumping over a fence. That’s what you have to do, isn’t it?

I start over again, picturing a white wooden fence like I’ve seen on TV. One sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep.

Finally, I start to drift off, but I feel a hand on my arm. It’s heavy, and I can’t push it away. I’m still very relaxed, but something inside me says I should be afraid.

“What…” I want to say more, but I can’t get the words out.

“Keep your mouth shut and come with me.”

I immediately recognize the voice. It’s that Nash guy. What is he doing here?

Shaking my head, I want to tell him I won’t go, but I can’t speak now. Even worse, I can’t move my limbs. I’m stuck here in this bed and can’t fight him off.

“Come on!” he whispers angrily. “We don’t have time for this.”

I keep shaking my head but can’t get a word out. After a few seconds, he shines a light in my eyes, and I want to close them or turn away to escape the brightness, but I can’t move.

He frowns and turns off the flashlight as he groans, lifting me out of the bed. I can’t fight back. I can’t even squirm in an attempt to get away. What’s happened to me?

Something is very wrong. I want to cry out, but I can’t seem to speak. Did he do this to me? I didn’t feel anything like a pinch that would indicate he gave me a shot of something.

I’m limp in his arms as he carries me through the darkness, but I know when he walks outside because I can hear the sound of the cabin door softly close. At least something in me is still working.

Nash doesn’t say a word as he hurries to wherever we’re going. My head lolls around like my neck can’t hold it up anymore, and every few seconds, it bounces off his flexed bicep. My nose bumps into his skin, and the scent of soap fills my nostrils.

So I can hear and smell. I can’t speak, and I can’t move. I don’t know if I can see because once he put his flashlight away, we’ve been in pitch darkness. I have no idea where we’re going. Maybe back to Micah? I can’t think of anywhere else.

It doesn’t take him long to get to where he’s taking me. I feel him walk up a set of stairs and hear him open a door, and a second or two later, he sets me down on a bed. I wait for him to turn on a light, but that doesn’t happen before I hear the door open again. I strain to listen for any sign he’s still here with me, but it’s deathly silent.

I try to move my arms and legs—at least I think I try—but they don’t budge an inch. I can’t get away from here, and as the moments pass, fear begins to fill me. I’m in danger, although I don’t know why. Did I say something wrong in my meeting with Micah? I don’t think so. I thought he liked me and believed what I said about wanting to be a part of his group. Did I do something wrong when we went to see him talk this morning? I can’t imagine what, although I remember very little of the day after we arrived at the tent.

How odd.

My mind races even as my body sluggishly refuses to respond to my silent, desperate commands. I feel like I wasn’t able to think a few minutes ago, but now thoughts run through my consciousness, frightening me. I can’t control what my brain is doing.

What is wrong with me?

The sound of the doorknob turning makes my entire body go on red alert, and a moment later, the door opens with a horrible squeak I didn’t notice when we arrived earlier. I hold my breath, afraid to make a noise, but then Nash turns on the light and I see a tiny smile on his face.

“You’re going to be okay. It’s just going to take a little while for the drugs to wear off. They must have given you guys enough to handle an elephant.”

I can’t respond, but I want to scream that he shouldn’t be so goddamned blasé about women being drugged. Then again, I get the feeling this happens a lot around this place.

Fucking crazy people!

Nash sits down in a chair next to the bed as I wish I could speak. Then again, with how my mind’s racing at the moment, I might try to say something and all that would come out is gibberish.

What the hell did they give me?

I stare up into his eyes and silently plead for him to speak to me. He winces, like he dreads giving me what I want, but finally he sighs heavily and starts to talk again.

“Don’t ask me to do more than what I’ve done so far. I shouldn’t even have done this, but I’m not okay with what’s going on.”

I continue to look up at him, confused about what he’s saying. Does he mean he doesn’t approve of them drugging us tonight or specifically something that’s being done to me? Am I in more danger than I realize?

Opening my mouth, I try to form the words to ask him, but nothing comes out. Nash simply shakes his head.

“Don’t bother. It’s going to take a little while. Just rest. They didn’t give you anything that can kill you. It just makes you pretty much a zombie. Give it a few more minutes.”

Tears begin to fill my eyes, but I don’t know if they’re because I’m happy I’m not going to die from being drugged or sad because I’m trapped in this place since someone wants me here under their control. A single tear rolls out of the corner of my eye and down the side of my cheek as I try to figure out who.

Nadine or Micah?