Instead, he carries me away with great ease as he walks me through the blinding white hallways toward my “room.” Room is a generous term for the small, barred cell they hold me in.
I dropped down on my cot with little care about being gentle. It takes a lot of effort for me to roll over and watch the guard leave the room, locking the door behind him.
As soon as the door is closed, my eyes grow heavy, and I can’t help myself as I pass out.
I don’t dream. I rarely do after they give me the serum.
Normally, I wake up in the morning when a small tray with my breakfast is slid through the slit in the door, and I ravenously eat it because of the hunger that grows every morning without fail.
But tonight is different.
My eyes jolt open, and I sit up suddenly in bed, the pain in all of my limbs feeling like nothing more than a memory.
I feel something else. Something stronger.
It’s like there’s another rope on me, this time latched to my core and trying to pull me toward something I can’t explain. I’ve never felt anything like this before.
Could this be a part of the serum?
Something shifts inside me, bringing me to my feet. I’ve felt this before. The clawing.
I’ve never been positive about what it means, but I know this is what the experiments are about.Thisis why I’m here.
Every time I feel it, the collar around my neck grows heavier. When I’ve escaped in the past, it’s been on foot. I remember the first time was while they were transferring me to the lab. I slipped out of a guard’s hand and made it as far as the fence on the property before I was grabbed.
I was thirteen. That was five years ago. Ever since, the collar has never been taken off. But with this tug of the invisible rope around me, I know I need to leave. I’ve known for a while, butthis feels tangible to me for the first time. Like something is calling to me that I can’t quite explain yet. It makes me think there’s actually something out there for me. Something to run to. I have to leave.
Hours pass as I think of my plan, the light from the moon outside the small window in my cell slowly transitioning toward the sun. Footsteps down the hall tell me the morning has finally begun.
I collapse on the ground beside my bed, curling into a ball as small as I can make it. I hold my fist against my stomach and cry, moaning and mumbling under my breath.
The footsteps come to a halt outside the door, and I don’t need to look up to know it’s Miriam, one of the caretakers, with my breakfast. “Everything hurts,” I cry out, my voice still hoarse from yesterday. It helps to make me sound more ragged as I struggle.
“You poor thing,” she whispers under her breath. She sets the tray down, and her footsteps hurry away.
Today, I’m glad it’s Miriam. The others might not have cared the way she does. Miriam has always been one of the good ones. I don’t stop what I’m doing because I know that cameras are on me. If anyone’s watching, I can’t let them know this is all a lie.
More footsteps approach—Miriam, I think, and one of the other guards. I hear the jingling of keys and the metal door of my room sliding open. They don’t close it behind them.
I still feel the pull that woke me up in the middle of the night. Whatever the sensation clawing at my insides is growing stronger with every second. Feeling this roiling up inside me gives me a strength I never knew I had.
The guard kneels beside me, ready to scoop me up in his arms and carry me away. Before he has the chance, I hook my arm around his neck and squeeze it as tight as I can. I grit myteeth and hold my breath as his fingers dig into my arm to try to pry them away.
“I’m leaving,” I grunt as I squeeze my arm tighter. It’s not a warning to him; it’s something I repeat to myself so I don’t give up. I’m leaving. They won’t be stopping me again. The guard’s face is bright red, bordering on purple, by the time his body falls limp in my arms. Miriam is screaming behind me, and I know it’s only a matter of time before more guards come running to stick me with another needle that will make me pass out.
I have to move quickly. I drop the guard on the ground, and his body spills the clumpy oatmeal Miriam prepared for me all over the concrete floor. As soon as he’s on the ground, I reach for his keys. More footsteps are coming down the hallway, and the chaos of all the guards trying to figure out what’s happening.
My fingers are on the key ring, and I grab it and escape. I dart down the opposite end of the hallway, looking over my shoulders briefly to see a group of three guards all chasing me. I don’t slow down.
My muscles ache with every step I take, and I try every key on the ring desperately as I move. Red alarm lights flash around the hallway, and an almost deafening shriek comes from the overhead speakers. At the end of the hall, I see the bright red exit sign.
I try one of the keys in the lock on my collar. My heartbeat quickens as I feel it slide inside the keyhole, and as I turn it, the collar unlatches.
For the first time in years, I feel the air around the sensitive skin of my neck. I want to enjoy it, but I can’t. Not while three guards are barreling down the hallway behind me.
The collar drops to the floor with a loud thud that everyone can hear.
“Stand back!” one of the guards shouts behind me.
