The Test

Twenty-seven

Twenty-seven
Daphne
A few hours earlier
~
We said we did it to protect her.
I can't tell if we're lying or not-I guess that will be decided by the outcome of today.
We walk-or in Hugh's case, roll in his wheelchair-towards the warehouse, approaching slowly.
The doors are steel and huge, barring us from entering. A guard dressed in black stops us. "Name?"
"Blackthorn. Daphne and Hugh Blackthorn." I say, trying to sound confident. We've only just reclaimed our daughter from the government that took her. What if these people do the same - or worse?
"State your business."
"We're here to make an exchange," Hugh says, worry and fear darkening his blue eyes - that only serve to remind me of our daughter, and how much we stand to lose.
"Your boss sent for us-he told us to meet him here." I say brusquely, tone inviting no nonsense.
The guard looks thoughtful. "Oh, did he?..." he disappears into the warehouse, leaving us to stew and fret. What if he doesn't agree? How will we protect her then?
The guard reappears, poking his buzz-cut head through the door. "Follow me," he says, beckoning with a hairy arm, widening the door enough for the wheelchair. I do not mistake the gesture for one of kindness-that kind of naivety was robbed from me long ago.
We pass through corridor after corridor, trying not to gag at the putrid smell of rot and...is that burning flesh? I shudder, glancing at Hugh beside me, who looks equally sickened. I ask the guard as much, who just shrugs. "How the hell should I know? I don't run this place."
"Watch your language," Hugh says angrily, almost a growl.
The guard laughs mockingly, the three words he utters managing to sound menacing. "Watch your back."
I reach down for Hugh's hand and clutch it tightly as we turn another corner, fear tightening our faces. We're ushered into a small, dingy office, with a single lightbulb swinging overhead. "Alright, sit down. I'll get the boss for you." the guard says diffidently, exiting the room with barely a nod.
He's clearly talking to me, as Hugh can't sit down, and these people aren't the type to let anything past their notice.
I nod slowly, even though he's already left the room, sitting trepidatiously down on the chair, trying not to look disgusted about the state of its wear, nor the filth and stench that seems to coat everything here.
"What is this place?" Hugh murmurs.
"I don't know," I whisper back, as mystified as he is.
Hugh shrugs, offering me tight smile that I think is supposed to be reassuring; however under present circumstances, the smile combined with the crow's feet under his eyes and the hard set of his jaw, plus the stubble across it from two days' lack of shaving, does little, if anything, to reassure. Indeed, it merely does the contrary and puts worry in my mind for our daughter and her fate, and how much rests on whatever deal we can make with "the boss".
A short man with a bald head and bulbous eyes enters the room. "You must be-" I start to say, but he sits down on the other side of the desk and says right over me, "We are ANTIGEN. I hear you want to make an exchange?"
~
Bianca
I can still feel their hands on my skin, still feel the tang of metal that seems to hang around this place constantly on the back of my tongue. My mind feels violated, as does my personal space. This beating seemed worse than the others-they wanted to know about my time at the government building and how many Genetics I'd discovered there. I don't know how they knew I'd even found any, unless they had access to my memories. Who knows with these thugs.
The guards are just bringing me back to my cell-they've deemed me too volatile to be kept in a room with other people after I attacked a guard who got too friendly-when I hear a commotion at the end of the dingy hallway. The guards don't let my head whip round for more than a second, and the lighting is almost too dim to see her face-but I dimly make out a flash of dark hair and blue eyes, fighting with the guards and screaming. My mouth drops open in shock.
Aria.
~
Aria
My elbow connects with one of the guards' faces, grunting at the crack! that follows. I allow myself a second of satisfaction and a half-smile, but the triumph doesn't last long as the guard next to him springs into action and tackles me to the ground roughly, pinning me beneath him as he prepares to throw a punch. "Hey, man, stop," the other guard -whose nose I broke- says. "They said we need her alive."
"Alright." The other guard replies grudgingly, releasing me and hauling me to my feet, not letting me go for a second. They manhandle me down the hallway, towards who knows what at the end. I wince as one of my broken ribs comes back to haunt me, evidence of the tussle on the way here. The one where my parents handed me over to these people without a word of protest-it seemed like they were almost happy to!-and I was wrested from Luc just metres away from safety as he was about to make it out my bedroom window. The men herded me down the stairs despite my protests and cries of "where are you taking me?", leaving me to wonder whether Lucas made it out in time. The last thing I remembered before they knocked me out and I discovered I ended up here was seeing Luc's anguished face as I was ripped from his arms, that one last heart-wrenching glimpse as I was herded down the stairs and into a van.
I'm brought back to my senses at the surprised and anguished cry from farther down the hall, outside one of the doors I now see lining it on either side. I recognise the voice after a few confused seconds, drawing a shocked breath as I connect the person to the sound.
Bianca.
And now that I'm here, I can't do a thing to save her.