Sakir
I am empty.
The virus has hollowed out my body, scraping skin from muscle and marrow from bone. Nothing remains but a shell, lying in the middle of a field of wildflowers.
A gentle breeze twirls the assortment of flowers. If I could feel anything other than pain, it would tickle, but I can't.
I can only stare overhead at the motionless sky and excruciating sun.
Gravity presses me into the uneven ground, sending dull stabs of pain up my spine and neck. I close my eyes against the exhausting pain.
Five seconds.
Just for five seconds.
Any relief would suffice. I'd even take death at this point.
It's going to be okay.
My eyes shoot open at the sound of a voice, a whisper, carried on the faintest of winds. It lifts up the ends of my shaggy hair, nestling into the skin beneath my ears. Grimacing, I look around the meadow, seeing nothing but flowers and wild grass until they blend into the horizon.
Just say something again, I plead, wishing I could open mouth, wishing I could wake up from this prison.
I'm going to take care of you.
Oh, thank God. I grasp for the female's breath, but the wind whips it away, disappearing into the ocean overhead.
Suddenly, I can feel her hands. They rest on my cheeks, press at my shoulders, and graze down my chest. Her skin resembles satin, softer than any woman's hands in Compound 2.
The thought that I'm imagining her disappears, replaced with the comfort of her presence.
I'll come every day until you wake up. Until you can tell me your name.
That's what she's worried about? Knowing my name? Can she not see the IV that leads the virus to my bloodstream, turning every inch of me into lead?
A chilling thought wedges into the corners of my mind.
What if this is normal? What if the voice from outside if another one of Julien's prisoners? Is she torturing more people?
Hey, Mya.
A different voice enters the wind, shaking the ground. This one belongs to a male, and it shakes with uncertainty.
She's coming.
The phrase comes from the boy, and the warmth of Mya's hands leave my skin.
I'll be back soon. I promise.
With Mya's final words, the world around me descends into silence once again, and I'm left alone, watching the sun beat down on me.
YOU ARE READING
Hidden (Book 3 of the Immune Series)
Science Fiction"Just because you can't see something doesn't mean it ceases to exist. I believe in many invisible things- ghosts, Bigfoot, unicorns. Mainly, though, I believe in myself- the girl hidden within the pale blue walls of this five-room, two story buil...
