P.R.I.S.M of Memories -on Hold

Chapter Eleven

~Conrad~

Clumsily, I search for a pulse in her wrist. I couldn't feel it though. I'm not sure if it's my own inexperience or because I'm too focused on the sound of my own heart beating violently in my chest.

She can't be dead!

The agent hovered above me in a protective manner. I grab his coat. "Do you have medical training?!"

The agent completely ignores my question and continues to scan the area, his gun still drawn.

" ...that hurt..."

It was so quiet I almost didn't hear Astra's monotonous voice. Or maybe I'm shocked that she could be shot and then say something with such a deadpan tone.

"Astra? Are you ok?"

I sure as hell wouldn't be ok.

She sits up and inspects the wound. Her mouth forming a grim line again. "I'll live. We need to leave though."

Astra made a gesture like she was going to stand. She stops herself and instead holds her arms out.

...She doesn't want me to carry her does she?

Before I could weigh her mentally, I'm roughly pushed aside by the agent. He kneels and lifts her up without even a grunt of effort. Her face taunt with pain, she gestures for me to follow her as she is carried away by the agent. Neither of them checking to make sure I was following.

Escape!

I could hear that word echoing in my mind. But I could also clearly picture Astra's concerned aqua eyes when she examined my knees. Could I just abandon her now? She just got shot because of me.

...Does that bother you?

It does.

Why? You owe her nothing. These men were only here because they were looking for her. It's her own fault she got shot. Leave now!

And then what? What were my prospects? I had always assumed I was under surveillance but I honestly didn't think they would bother to actually send an agent to physically watch me. Doesn't matter now. The CIA will know about this soon enough. I doubt I will be allowed to leave that cell again. I could feel the nausea beginning to build up from the pit of my stomach. It was so dark in there. So quiet.

Too quiet.

All I can hear is my heartbeat, each breath I took, and the incessant noise of water dripping from the ceiling. It was so quiet but it was so loud. I could feel the thud of my heart in my chest and I can't breathe in deeply enough. My hands went up to hold my head.

Snap out of it.

Shock nearly stopped my heart. That wasn't my thought. I'm sure that it wasn't. It worked though. I had almost had an anxiety attack, a parting gift from my time period of imprisonment. I shouldn't have thought about the cell.

The thought itself hadn't been yelling at me but what scared me is it had sounded...like Astra.

I stand up and avoid observing too much of my surroundings. I didn't need any more memories of dead bodies. Astra and her agent were walking down a small path lined with trees that cut through the parking lot. The wind still blowing from the storm made the trees sway as if beckoning me to go forward.

There's no going back from here if I follow her. Not that my prospects of staying had any real pizazz  to it either. I would no doubt be thrown back into that cell and be questioned by dozens of agents from branches I've never even heard of.