The Deathless Trilogy

2.1. Cooper's Estate

I have no idea how long I've been here, or where anyone else is. All I know is that every now and then, the light under the door turns on, and I am given something else.

First it was the bread and the note. "Hold on." I still have no idea who wrote it, or why.

Then it was a tube of ointment. I should have been more suspicious of it, but by then, the pain from my burns and cuts was too unbearable to question anything that might help. Then, a roll of medical tape and some gauze pads.

I sat on the floor with the tape and gauze on either side of me so I wouldn't lose them in the darkness. My hands smoothed over the surface of my skin, finding the open gashes from falling into the bush after the explosion, and from wounds still healing from the Prowler attack at the refugee camp.

The camp.

Mom and Declan are probably doing their best to hold each other together right now. I wish somehow I could let them know I'm okay and that my dad is still out there. If I had the necklace Declan made me, I would stop worrying and just release the signal. But it's gone.

I may never see any of them again.

I may never have the chance to say goodbye to my mom. At least with Declan and my dad, I had that opportunity. At first I thought, at least I can see them in my dreams; but every time I try to go to sleep, I think of their faces lying in pools of blood, and it keeps me awake. I know it's just my mind playing tricks on me, but I still feel like I need to stay up. To make sure I'm awake if anything happens.

After the bandages, I was given more bread and a pouch of water, which I drank in one gulp. Whoever has me here is trying to keep me alive. Wherever this is.

Finally, a few minutes ago, I was given a pouch of dehydrated potatoes and a plastic spoon. I scooped the food into my mouth, and it's enough for now. But I can't keep living like this, being fed prisoner food and kept in the dark. I have to find my way out.

I begin crafting my weapon. Just in case. A few months ago, I would have probably just sat here crying, hopelessly worrying, wondering where Daniel was to save me. Not anymore. I am alone in this room and I need to take control.

I take the spoon and break off the scooped end. I shove the handle into the ointment tube, and begin scraping it against the rough cement wall to sharpen it. Then I wrap it in the remaining medical tape to hold it steady.

Now I just have to wait. Even if whoever has me here is taking care of me, they are almost definitely working for Gunther Quail. They can't be trusted.

I remember what he said. "Bring her onto the tank, and get her to the infirmary. Let Crowley know when he's conscious." 

The way he said Daniel's name—the familiarity of it—sends shivers up my spine. I'm not dumb, I know what it means. Gunther and Daniel know each other. Daniel's working with them. Somehow whatever the President needed from him, Gunther must need as well.

What do they need?

Daniel must be conscious by now. Why haven't I heard from him at all? Unless... unless, he's not only working with them, but is actually one of them.

I shake the thought from my head. He couldn't be, not the Daniel I know.

Maybe I'm still here because of my wounds, but this can't be the infirmary. Unless it is, and this is just another example of what the scientists told me about Gunther not valuing life. That and the fact that he and the President set all their soldiers up to die in the Deathless attack. They knew we were coming. Why didn't they tell them?