Escaping Elysia

Chapter 7 - Out (cont.)

In our room Nadya lies on her bed, reading a book. I close the door behind me and curl up on my bed, burying my face in the pillow. How could I be so stupid? I never should have looked at Sheer's screen and scrolled through that document. It's my fault that I'm in this...this prison.

For a moment I imagine living here for the rest of my life, and panic rises in my chest. I can't stay here, but I can't escape either. Security is too tight, and the bracelet around my wrist is too thick and too heavy. Maybe if I had help...the image of Dale's bracelet flashes suddenly in my mind. 117. He's been here a long time. If anyone could figure out how to escape, it would be him.

I drive the thought out of my brain. I can't ask him. I won't. Besides, he wouldn't help me even if I did ask.

I sit up and look at Nadya, who is peaceful, sitting completely still and reading her book. Could she help me? I readjust, crossing my legs and leaning against the wall before speaking.

"Hey Nadya?"

"Hmm?" She doesn't look up from her book, but I've learned by now that that doesn't mean she's not listening.

"Do you ever think about breaking out of here?"

"Not really."

I raise my eyebrows. I'd meant that as more of a rhetorical question, to start the conversation. I hadn't expected her to say no. "Why not?"

"I've got everything I need. Food, a place to sleep, books to read. That's more than I ever had out there." Her voice is calm and soft. What does she mean? No one in Sanzha goes without food or a place to live. And you can download as many free books as you want on your screen.

"But they're killing you," I say, gesturing to the IV. "Doesn't that bother you?" Nadya looks away from her book now, and down at the floor. I wait for her to respond, but her eyes stay focused on the floor, her body still.

We sit in silence like that, her motionless and me growing frustrated, before I finally groan and stand up. Nadya still doesn't move as I leave the room.

Why doesn't she care? I would care. I would do something about it. I certainly wouldn't just sit there day after day, acting like nothing's happening. I make it to the end of the hallway before guilt stops me. I know I upset her. I should apologize.

I walk back down to our room, and when I open the door I see Nadya sitting on the edge of her bed, tugging at the place where the IV is stuck in her hand.

"What are you doing?" The words burst from my throat and I flit to her side, pulling her hand away.

"I have to get it out." Nadya's voice is clearer and firmer than I've ever heard it. "I need it out. I have to take it out. Please. Let me take it out." Her voice is stronger than I expected, as are her arms, but I'm still able to keep her from pulling out the IV. However, she's getting louder as we struggle, and I think of the guards. If one happens to be walking down our hallway...I don't know what they would do, and I don't want to find out.

I try to comfort Nadya, or to at least get her quiet, but it's hopeless. I don't know how to calm her down. But I do know someone who might.

"Don't touch the IV, Nadya, please. I'll be right back. Just don't touch it. Right back, okay? I promise." It's no use. The second I release her hand she's at it again. I have to hurry. I race from the room, slowing as I reach the end of the hallway. It's hard to make myself walk when I think about what Nadya is doing back in our room, but I can't draw attention to myself.

I poke my head into the library, looking for Weston. I don't see him, but Dale is there, playing chess against a boy I don't know. There isn't time for hesitation, and I quickly approach him.

"Dale," I say, and he turns with a look of annoyance. I continue before he can tell me to go away. "Do you know where Weston is?"

His face changes to concern at the panic in my voice. "No, why?"

I pause. He's going to hate me even more for this. "It's Nadya. You have to come, now."

He jumps to his feet and follows me back to my room, both of us walking as quickly as we can without attracting suspicion. Boys aren't supposed to be in the girls' area, but Dale enters the hallway without even checking for a guard. As we reach it, he breaks into a sprint.

Inside our room Nadya is lying on the floor, holding the tubing to the IV that used to be in her hand, and crying. Medicine that used to drip into her vein drips onto the floor. It leaves a small puddle. Her hand is bleeding, and though it's less blood than I expected, it's still shocking to see it flow from her frail, papery skin.

"What did you do?" Dale yells at me. Before I can respond he rushes to Nadya and drops to his knees. I want to say that I didn't mean for this to happen, but instead I stay quiet and out of the way. Dale takes the IV from Nadya and places it on the floor, then takes her pillow case off of her pillow and wraps it around her hand. He crouches down beside her and pulls her into his arms, rocking her slowly. He smoothes her hair, shushing her. It shocks me to see such tenderness from the boy who hasn't stopped scowling since I arrived.

For a second, I feel a strong pang in my chest. No one's ever held me like that before. I imagine the sensation of someone stroking my hair, and the pang grows stronger. I quickly push it away.

In a few minutes Nadya's sobs slow, until she's only sniffling. She rests her head against his shoulder, her eyes closed. Gently, Dale helps her to the bed and pulls the covers over her, then unwraps her hand. He wipes away the little bit of blood that remains and, after changing the needle out for a fresh one from a compartment in the stand, carefully reinserts the IV, pressing the tape back over her hand. It's as if he's done it a million times before. Finally, he tucks her in and kisses her forehead, before turning to me. His face twists from concern to contempt. For some reason, his glare hurts more than usual. When he nods toward the door I follow him into the hallway.

"What did you do?" he repeats, once the door is firmly closed.

"I didn't mean to upset her. I just asked-"

"What?" he bursts out. "What did you just ask?"

"I asked her if she's ever thought about escaping this place."

"That's it?" He raises his eyebrows, disbelieving.

"Well," I break eye contact, "I also mentioned that those drugs seem to be killing her."

Dale's eyes widen and he scoffs. "You said that?"

"I didn't know she would react like that." Indignation rises in my chest.

"Look at yourself. You never show any emotion. Do you even care that you upset her?"

I blink, shocked. Of course I care.

Dale continues, hatred in his eyes. "I knew you would do something like this."

I narrow my own eyes. "What is that supposed to mean? You don't even know me."

"You killed Trenton."

I groan, fed up with the way everyone's been treating me since I've been here, and the words break out of my mouth. "Listen, I'm sorry. I can tell you cared about him, but my life was in danger. He was pointing a gun at me!"

Dale shakes his head. "No, Trenton wouldn't have shot anyone. He wasn't like that."

How can he be so naive?

"Then why was he holding a gun and aiming it into a crowd of students? He had a lot of guns. What was I supposed to do?" Dale opens his mouth, but closes it again before speaking.

At that moment a guard rounds the corner into the hallway. "Hey!" he says, spotting Dale. "You're not supposed to be here." The guard grabs him roughly by the arm and drags him back to the common areas.

I watch them go. How can Dale be so sure that Trenton was a good person?

And how did the gun get into my purse?

***

Author's note: Thank you for reading! Please don't forget to vote if you liked this chapter :).