Page 96 of Fragmented Illusions
“I’m assuming they gave her some sort of fucking medication. All of them I saw were like this.” I’m so fucking angry. The fear I was feeling moments ago is long gone, instantly replaced by devouring rage.
They fucking touched my pretty girl. Made her into this fucking living dead girl. I will kill every single fucking one of them if that is what it takes to get us out of here. That, or I will die trying.
“We need to go. They will pass through her system eventually and then she will be okay. She has us now and we won’t let anything happen to her.”
I glance down at Fallon and run my fingers across her freckled cheekbones. Tears spill from her eyes, running over my fingers and my stomach clenches. She’s still in there. We just need to get her out.
Get her out, I repeat to myself over and over. I shift, pushing my right arm under Fallon’s knees and gripping her. I then push my left arm under her neck and lift her into my arms effortlessly.
Her body feels frail in my arms as I hug her to my chest. Her head lulls to the side, away from me, but Spencer is there to gently move her and press it against my chest. She feels cold in my arms, so unlike her usual self, and I hate it.
This isn’t her. This is who they have turned her into.
“Do you have your knife?” I ask Spencer. I turn around, heading for the door. Spencer holds it open for me as I step through at an angle, then he follows. It clicks shut behind us and we walk briskly down the hall.
I resist the urge to squeeze my eyes as the fluorescent lights reflect off of the walls, bouncing light beams around and almost blinding me.
I fucking hate the color white. It’s too clean. Sanitary.Pure.
“You know I do.”
“Pull it out. Keep it in your hand,” I demand. He swipes his card, and the door opens, letting us into another white hall, though this one at least has a bit of color in the form of mediocre, cheesy paintings on the walls. Probably in an effort to make this place seem inviting and not like the death chamber it truly is.
“We’re out of time, aren’t we.” It’s technically a question but he says it as a statement. Because that’s what it is. A fact.
“Yes.” I don’t elaborate. He knows what that means. Either we fight our way out of here, or we die trying.
We jog down the hall. Fallon jostles in my arms, weak and broken moans spilling from her lips. I squeeze her tighter in my arms, trying to comfort her. At the sound, Spence darts his eyes to her then to me. He wears his emotions clear on his face.
Worry. Desperation. Rage.
It’s all there, sitting just below the surface. Spencer has never been one for impulse control, so it’s only a matter of time before he loses it.
“Hey!” an angry voice shouts behind us. “What the hell are you doing?” Thundering footsteps follow and I square my shoulders, but I don’t slow down. Mine and Spencer’s gazes meet, and I nod my head once.
He slows marginally while I keep jogging, heading for the stairs. We need to go down three flights and then we’re almost there.
“Just a little further, our pretty girl.” A shout rings out as I adjust Fallon in my arms to grab my card and swipe it. The light flicks green and I shift to grab the handle and pull it open. I catch it with my foot and readjust again.
I kick the door open and catch it with my shoulder as I spin, stepping into the stairwell. I let the door shut almost all the way, only keeping it open with my foot as I wait for Spencer.
Any second now…
Footsteps echo down the hall and then his black leather gloved hand is yanking the door open. I notice a few specs of blood drying on the front of his shirt, and I can’t bring myself to care. We will kill our way out of here if that is what we need to do.
This is survival—for our pretty girl.
Spencer pulls ahead of me without question as we race down the stairs. We keep our footsteps as quiet as we can, but I’m more concerned with getting the hell out of here than I am with being quiet. We’ve already been caught. We’ve already killed.
It’s only a matter of time before they descend upon us.
Our almost rhythmic footsteps stop as we reach the last step. A swipe of a card and we’re through the door, almost fucking there…
As we turn down the hallway leading to the front doors, we’re greeted by three men. They’re standing next to each other in a line, presumably waiting for us. Our footsteps stutter before stopping completely.
My heart batters my ribcage as I stare ahead. I feel Spencer’s body against mine as he steps closer to us. He presses his entire right side to my left. His body is rigid and slightly twitching from the strain.
Fallon stirs in my arms, twitching as well. She can probably sense the sudden tensity in the air, but her eyes have now fallen shut.
