Operation 007 (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 23: Part Two

"Anya?" Becky's voice was far away and Anya looked at her in a daze. She'd been absorbed in the situation and still was, but suddenly there was a vague recognition of where she was, of the kids around her talking and screeching excitedly. The sun still shone brightly, the students were happy and the weather was perfect. It only existed in the background to Anya, a cruel joke to undermine what was taking place.

"Anya?" Becky asked again, and Anya panicked that Blackbell had picked up on her signs of distress. Anya panicked further at what would happen if Becky decided this warranted the teachers attention and fought to reel in her breathing and shaking to little avail.

Her friend waited for an answer and Anya tried, but her voice was trapped in her throat. Her tongue couldn't seem to form words. She felt as if she were in a clouded dream, movements difficult and unresponsive.

"What's wrong?" Becky asked worriedly, referring to her concerning state. "Do you feel sick? Are you okay?" She put a hand on Anya's forehead, but it wasn't feverish. This didn't assuage her, she knew something wasn't right. Anya was acting weird again and Becky was becoming increasingly frustrated that she didn't know why. The last time, it was caused by a bad dream and Anya had said it was nothing, and now it came out of nowhere. She'd been acting odd all day too, what was going on?

"I'll get the teacher." Becky meant to turn away from her, but Anya grabbed her arm.

"No, Anya's. . . . just cold." She managed in a quiet voice, the words thick and hard to get out. A lie to cover up the extraordinary amount of adrenaline racing through her. She was surprised she spoke at all.

Becky didn't believe her. Anya looked too distressed and the weather was too hot for her to shiver unless she really was sick. It was moments like these Becky wanted to press further and figure out what was going on, and on the other hand, didn't want to upset her. Becky was beginning to think she should no longer gloss over these anomalies in Anya's behaviour. Most the time she appeared to be fine, but it was instances like these that made Becky question it. It was stressing her out.

"Alright, moving on." Mr. Gable called, and Becky's skepticism was put on hold as they lined up. She questioned why Anya waited to join at the back when they could have easily been closer to the front and it raised flags she didn't even know they eluded to. It was just weird. She knew Anya had no preference where they stood in line.

She put it aside as the class trod along over the dirt path tramped down by innumerable feet over the years, and soon the ground shifted to railed wooden walkways. The breeze receded as the cover of trees flanked their sides and the sun beat down on the students black uniforms, now with no relief from the wind. Anya's palms sweated and she had never wanted to take the bandages off so badly. Her movements were stiff and she walked along with the class, antsy and high strung. She thought she might throw up if she let herself.

Sounds of the children floated down to her, and Becky also talked, though Anya hardly listened. Her perceived fortress of safety had been ripped down and it was all she could do to dwell in the resulting vulnerability. The security that had been building and building since her return home, had crumbled the instant she knew the director was here. Anya didn't know if she could do this. She was too afraid, too aware of what would happen afterwards. She couldn't do it again, she simply couldn't, it was too much. But what did she do? What about her classmates? There was no way she ran, and they weren't harmed. Or her, for that matter, they'd certainly catch her anyway.

Anya took hold of Becky's hand in a reach for comfort and Becky thought nothing of it. Anya hoped it wouldn't be the last time. Her parents would come for her, like before. They would come, they would come, they would come. They wouldn't abandon her.