Hindered Hope

Chapter 11

She saw Zane. "Zane, I have a question!" she shouted, flipping her body backward. She tumbled to the floor and her body bent like a spring, but she quickly righted herself and managed to look dignified. "Does this suit make my butt look big?"

Zane cocked his head. "The hundred-dollar question is, do you want your butt to look big?"

She laughed derisively and sarcastically. "It's gonna cost you a hundred dollars in dental care if you pursue that path."

He smiled. "Your butt's the same size as it was before," he said, hoping to avoid dental care.

"Aww, really?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes. She turned around in circles, trying to catch sight of her rear end. He sighed and walked away, leaving her to her business.

Anastasia strolled in the room, and her recently redyed hair matched the red streaks on the Forthrite outfit. She had gathered it in a high ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. They smiled at each other, and giggled for no apparent reason.

The room's mood was light until the moment Jonas stepped out of his room, decked out in the Forthrite uniform, staggering on his feet. His toes were turned inwards and he hobbled and limped instead of walking. Zane couldn't believe the progression of his mental deterioration.

Dmitri hustled over to help keep him upright. "Jonas, maybe you should stay back," he said. "You don't look too well."

The boy's half-opened eyes widened. "No!" he shrieked. "Have to go!"

Zane nodded, remembering how badly Jonas had wanted to get out of the mountain and the great lengths Zane had gone to make it happen. "Dmitri, I will carry Jonas out of here if it means he gets out of this base today."

Dmitri conceded. "All right," he said. "I've got to go get my squadron ready. Trip, head to the mission room." His boyfriend nodded. "You guys, head to Hangar A. Your jet is waiting, along with a pilot. As soon as my squadron boards the plane, it leaves. Don't be late." He exited the room, Trip following him.

Zane turned to his friends and gestured to the door. "Shall we?"

Hangar A was an enormous naturally-formed cavern on the far side of the base. Zane and his friends took turns supporting Jonas, who spouted gibberish and sometimes decipherable words. His face was gaunt as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, and his hair was thinner as if it had been falling out. His eyes were sunken back and Zane was reminded of a dead body. After all, he had seen several.

Along the way, Anastasia, who had become more protective of her newfound friends since London, tried to ease the moment with several jokes and witty remarks, but nobody was in a mood to laugh. Zane admired her tactics, though.

The jet was enormous, far larger than the New Vancouver one they'd stolen to fly to London. It's broad black wings stretched across the hangar and the cargo bay was large enough for at least a hundred people. Zane wondered just how many soldiers Dmitri was planning to send.

"He said don't be late," Marcus said. He gestured to the plane. "All aboard, my friends."

Inside, it was far less luxurious. The sitting area was just a cold metal bench and a tiny bathroom was located underneath the cockpit. Nothing else was included for the occupant's comfort. "Homey," Zane said.

Daisy snorted. "More like homely," she spat. "Dmitri has the resources to get top-notch outfits for us, you think he could invest in some nice couches for his planes."

Jonas shook his head. "Impractical," he spat, the words seeming to force themselves out of his mouth. "Don't trust..." he trailed off and looked confused. His gaze vanished into the distance and everybody fixed a look of pity upon him.