Patient Twelve

Chapter Thirty-Two

 Ben shook me awake before the sun had begun to rise. He was fully dressed and set my clothes to the side. I yawned and stretched out my sore joints before changing my clothes. I was moving too slow for Ben, and he started pulling my arms through the sleeves of my shirt. He tossed the duffel bag over his shoulder before I had the chance to brush my hair. I tried to tie it back into a ponytail, but the short ends kept escaping the elastic.

He made me sit in the car as he returned the motel key. It was dark outside, and these stupid sunglasses made me feel like I was floating in a black hole. When Ben got into the car, he turned on his classic rock radio station and pulled out onto the street. We were silent, except for Ben humming along to the song. I rested my head against the window.

Light crept into my abyss of darkness. I lifted my head to see Ben was pulling into a gas station. The lights above were bright and allowed me to actually see.

"Stay in the car and rest," Ben said. "This will only take a minute."

I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest. I sunk into the seat and watched Ben walk into the gas station. I reached forward and changed his radio station until I could find a news station. The two hosts were talking about a severe thunderstorm that was supposed to happen in a few nights.

"Switching the topic," the female host said. "Have you heard the new details coming out of this Benjamin and Diana story?"

"No," the male host said. "Did they finally figure out where they are?"

"No, not yet. Remember the other victim that they found restrained to a bed? Colin Summerson? It was just released by the police that the autopsy of his body showed that his eyes were replaced with the eyes of a cat."

My breath got caught in my throat. They knew about the experiments now. If I threw off my sunglasses, Ben would not be able to excuse them away as contacts.

I squinted to see that Ben was still inside the gas station. He was leaning against the counter and was deep in conversation with the woman working behind the counter. She kept giggling and tossing a piece of her blonde hair over her shoulder.

Another set of lights caught my attention. I turned to see a truck pulling into the gas station. A man with a beer belly and a thick beard climbed out of the truck. He stuck his credit card into the machine and was filling up his truck with gas. I looked back to see that Ben was still talking to the girl behind the counter.

My hands shook as I reached for the handle. I opened the car door slowly. I did not want to go too fast and draw Ben's attention, but I also did not want to move too slow and miss my opportunity.

My eyes stayed locked on Ben as I walked toward the man. If Ben wondered why I was out I was going to lie and tell him that I need to go to the washroom. I took a few steps to the side, and the man looked up at me. His bushy eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes scanned me up and down. I looked over at my shoulder to see Ben had yet to notice that I got out of the car.

"Please," I said. My voice was hushed. I knew a glass door separated Ben and I, but the paranoia took over my mind. "Please, you need to help me."

I looked back at Ben. He had eased up off of the counter, but he was still talking to the girl.

"What's wrong?" the man said.

"I need you to call the cops," I said, but I did not take my eyes off of Ben. "I'm Diana Slater."

"The kidnapped girl?" he asked.

Ben rolled his head to the side. His smile dropped when he saw me out of the car. He left the woman mid-conversation. I started walking forward so that I could keep my fake story. The door flew open as Ben stormed out of the station.