CHAPTER 8 - Proof of Life

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The Bullet stopped two hours later.

Sarah couldn't get any more information from Wolf. Nothing about the Observation Facility, no details as to the timestamp on the video, nor any hint of the identity of whoever was on the footage, or where they were going after that, if anywhere. After the stunt she pulled trying to escape, she doubted they would tell her anything until the actual moment of discovery, meaning not until they arrived at their destination, and even then, they would probably keep her on a tight operational need-to-know basis.

After Wolf had finished with her bandages, they moved to another cabin. This room bore a resemblance to the previous one, except whoever engineered it flipped the layout with her recliner on the other end and the sink-mirror combo opposite of its original position. Of course, Wolf didn't live up to getting her another shirt, since they didn't have a cache of clothes on the train.

Sarah grimaced on the inside. What did he think? He would find a department store on this thing?

Now they stood, ready to get off The Bullet at the Observation Facility. Next to Wolf, Sarah waited for the exit doors to open in her white sweater, the sleeves pushed up; the garment streaked with blood across the front. She refused to give him the pleasure of knowing the entire ordeal miffed her. Bleeding everywhere was her fault, but then again, Wolf put her in this position. Another thing irritated her. The bandages. She unraveled the cotton, stained with dried crimson on the innermost layers, wadded them up and handed them to Wolf.

He tensed up and caught the soiled bandages, grimacing when he saw her wounds, or lack thereof. He could only stare at her wrists in amazement.

"Only a hint of a scar," Wolf said, his words filled with awe.

"Even that will vanish by tomorrow," Sarah replied as the doors glided open. "When damaged, my cells regenerate and never lose their youthful luster."

"That's the main reason you're here, Sarah. For the greater good."

She cut her eyes to him. "We'll see about that."

With the jailer and prisoner routine down to a science, Wolf guided Sarah by the arm into a corridor. As they walked, the change of scenery distracted her too much to object. Rocks lined the walls and ceiling like a cave in some old movie she watched when life was simpler. Pebbles and dirt made up a well-trodden path that led away from the train toward this new subterranean place.

The tunnel appeared natural. It meandered like a snake with uneven indentions and sharp points that jutted out, some at eye level, making Sarah tilt her head to avoid being gouged. Spaced-out fluorescent lights hung above them in a series, running the length of the corridor. And a muskiness hung in the air, emanating from the walls. Portions of the rock glistened with seeping water while fungus grew, darkening other areas.

"Nice place you have here." Sarah pulled her arm free. "I think I can make it on my own."

"Sorry," Wolf said. "You didn't mind me helping you earlier."

"That was different. You were giving me medical attention."

"Which you probably didn't need. If left alone, your blood would have clotted, and you would have healed up all the same."

"But your kind gesture may have bought you a favor in the future. You may be the one who needs help next time."

Wolf didn't get sarcastic, but only offered a solemn nod, drawing his lips together and swallowing uncomfortably.

Sarah wanted to smile. She actually tried, but it came out forced, all in the cheeks. Her eyes remained as hard as the rocks in the cave. This prompted Wolf to increase their pace, leading the way. As they arrived at the end of the corridor, another set of doors slid open with a hiss of air. They turned left and entered a long hallway, passing a man dressed in desert military fatigues.

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