Hunted

Chapter 3 - Journeys

I fell asleep for a few minutes, exhausted, my body dipping into sleep for a quick 'recharge'. I had memories of something other than cages and torture. Dim memories, of a less tense, less anxious me, one waving her hand dismissively and deciding that she could handle an extra semester to for a free holiday. What choice? There had been no choice! Suitcase packed, let's go, see you in a month! America hadn't been my first choice of ideal places to visit but being a full time student any free month long holiday suddenly was high priority after spending all summer doing additional classes.

When I woke, it was to the sound of the radio being turned on and blasting us with music, Antonio turning it down quickly. Someone singing about Paradice. It kept me quite a while, listening to the song, feeling strangely emotional as I heard it. It was how I coped. Dreams, dreaming while in that cell, dreaming of being somewhere else. Somewhere safe. Somewhere I wasn't being hurt. I dreamed of paradice, like the song said, and it made my throat swell up a little. The answer he'd wanted, the one he'd bugged me for, it drifted up.

"Two weeks before semester one.”

Nick didn't look at me. Antonio's nearly black eyes met mine for a moment in the mirror. It gave me some energy to keep speaking.

“It was a cruise. I won a cruise from here to England, with a tour of New York before departure, then a tour in England. I remember arriving in LA and then... nothing. I don't even know if I made it to New York." Dim memories, drugs, a cell, time fading into a torturous stretch of time, dreams that seemed more real than reality. Impossible dreams. Not reality. It was confusing. "It's nearly Christmas now."

"Yeah." Nick spoke up. The anger was gone. Just a faint 'yeah'. His face had lost that earlier anger and he kept his eyes out his window instead of looking at me. Probably didn't know when Australians started Semester one.

I did. My mind was already counting the months before I could stop it. Ten months. I'd been captive there for ten months. What did my family think? My friends? My University?

There was nothing I could do right now. I slept again, dipping in and out of sleep as Antonio drove, the radio occasionally waking me with some song or a cheerful presenter. It was probably an hour or so later of driving went past before Nick swore, as if he'd remembered something, leaning forward to tap his father's shoulder. "Windows up a sec." We slowed and pulled up beside one of the quiet streets.

I glanced outside my side, wondering why, when I felt a hand tickle tickled up my side, and then under my shirt. I jumped, turning to face Nick, face expressionless as he held up a first aid kit. "Jeremy's orders. Turn around. I'll take care of it. You'll need to take your shirt off."

"What!"

"I can't really clean your entire back with it on."

Antonio went to open his side of the car door then.  As he did, he checked Pav, reaching out to touch one of her hands. It was pretty pale and limp in his hand but he didn't panic or anything, just swung his legs out of the side and got out. Antonio bent down to tell me, "It's okay. He'll behave. I'm going to go get some snacks for us, be back in a sec. Don't leave the car," and shut the door before anyone could respond.

Once Antonio was gone, I gave in, not sure why I was doing so. Maybe it was because I didn't want it to get any more infected than it was. Running, should it have to come to that, would be impossible if it got worse. I couldn't treat it myself. Pav couldn't treat it if she was as sick as she seemed and I didn't know why she was sick so it wasn't safe to let her touch any open wounds. I slid the shirt up, tugging it over my head, and held it against my chest to keep some amount of dignity. Nick's fingers were at the bra clasp, unhooking it,pushing the edges under my arms. I wondered vaguely where he'd gotten a bra from anyway that fit me. Or who'd put it on me. Heat flooded my face at the sudden realisation that someone would have had to do it. Maybe it'd been Pav.