“No! No, I mean I got my standard beating treatment, he likes the brutality, but he seemed to like the audience, so I had to watch.” I shudder with Jena in my arms and Doc Sylvia just nods.
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Let’s get you both back by the fire, get some food in you and clean, warm clothes.” She walks out with the container and mutters something angry under her breath.
Lillian comes back in with a cooler full of food and drinks followed by Wyatt who has a duffle bag that must have clothes for us. He doesn’t stay, but gives me a small smile before heading back out again.
I have never loved the sight of sandwiches and chips as much as right now. She also brought water and gatorade for both of us. I opened one of the sugary, salty electrolyte drinks and almost gagged at the amount of flavor in it. I had to mix it with water to get it down, but my body needed it.
She also brought several sleeping bag rolls and Jena and I both curled into the soft warmth. It has been a while since if felt something so soft and comfortable. We both tried to get back to sleep. But, that seemed to be asking too much from our frazzled brains.
I layed on my side staring into the fire. Jena’s head was next to mine and I can’t tell if she is sleeping or just letting her body come down from the high of our escape like me. I want to sleep, I can feel the fatigue rack every muscle in my body, but every time I close my eyes I just see the dark dank musty cell we were kept in. The sounds of the whips and paddles used on us. Our dirty and stained clothes being ripped everytime one of the guards reached out to restrain us for our daily beating. Every time my dream would move to focus on Mike, like a camera in a movie, forcing me to focus on something I never want to see again. He was always in profile or looking away from me, but the moment he turned his head his eyes were blazing red and his mouth was turned into a wicked menacing grin, that’s when my body would jolt awake and I sat up looking for the predator himself, sure he was back to torture us more.
Jena was no better, she whimpers and cries in her sleep. Not saying actual words, but I could imagine what is running through her mind. She doesn’t come out of the terror on her own, when she starts to flail getting dangerously close to the fire and finally calls my name, I grab her and haul her to me, cooing that she is safe. I sit and rock her until her body is calm again and then lay her back down next to me.
By the third or fourth time of this, warriors stopped running into the room at the sounds of her cries or my gasps. Lillian decides to post herself at the cave entrance to keep an eye on us. I can hear murmuring voices just beyond the cave entrance. Maybe status reports or her relaying our restless states, who knows. I’m still too fried mentally to even think straight. I have noticed that my body is coming out of the fight or flight mode though and the exhaustion almost hurts. I wonder if part of that is my body finishing the detox of whatever sh*t Mike’s guys gave us.
The next time I woke though, there was a distinct difference. I could smell Jena next to me and feel the weight of her head on my shoulder, but we were bumping around and I could feel the thrum of vibrations under my butt. My brain woke up quickly, my eyes however did not get the memo. It was almost as if they were glued shut. I quickly went into defense mode. I started to name off things that were real without the help of sight. I could feel Jena leaning on me and smell her. What else could I smell? I can smell Wyatt and Lillian. A little fainter I can smell Osiston, stale fried food and gas. I try to still my heart, we must be in a car moving, but why can’t I open my eyes.
“Where are we going?” I ask Osiston
“Home, Little One. Just rest. We have you.” Is all he said, then I fell back to sleep.
