Catching Butterflies E-Book

Sandra J. Jackson

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

April and Beth have escaped, and their captor is dead. Freedom is in their grasp - if only they knew where they were.

With some memories returning, April and Beth struggle to find answers to their questions. What they know is that they’ve been vaccinated against a strange virus. But what happened to their family, and to the rest of the world?

As they head out, they stumble onto the compound where their nightmare began, but the empty building only brings more mystery into their lives. Soon, they encounter others wandering on the numerous trails throughout the woods. For April, finding her family is priority one; for Beth, it's sticking to the trails.

How can April ever convince her to leave the forest... and why are they being hunted?

Leseprobe

Catching Butterflies

The Escape Series Book 2

Copyright (C) 2019 Sandra J. Jackson

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2021 by Next Chapter

Published 2021 by Next Chapter

Edited by Ronald Bagliere

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

For my mom

Acknowledgments

As always, a big thank you to my family for putting up with my “disappearance” when I was still physically in the room.

Thanks to my readers who have waited patiently for this second book of the trilogy. The third is already written so should follow shortly.

Thank you to my beta readers Leslie and Denis Brown; I value your opinion.

To my Creative Editor, Ron Bagliere, whose 30 years of writing and editing knowledge helped me to see where my story needed improvement.

Thank you to Next Chapter; I continue to look forward to this and other published works.

One Crossroads

The tiny creature filled its belly, gorging on blood. It swelled red and then after a moment lifted off, swaying under the burden of an engorged body. The bug flew toward a patch of undergrowth and landed on a stick. I squinted and sought to recall the name of the insect. Mosquito! The word popped into my brain. While my memory had improved, some words and events of the last five years still eluded me.

“You're welcome!” I called before it disappeared into the brush.

“April, who are you talking to?” Beth opened her pale blue eyes and yawned. We had stopped for yet another break, the fourth since escaping our confines despite having not travelled very far. And while we'd filled our stomachs with as much food as possible before leaving, our bodies remained weak. A fallen tree at the side of the roadway made for a perfect rest-stop.

“The mosquito I fed.” I waved in the direction where the overstuffed bug landed, a proud smile on my face for having helped a fellow living creature.

Beth wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Tangled brown waves swept the top of her shoulders. “Probably sh-shouldn't have done that.”

“After being half-starved yourself, I thought you'd appreciate my generosity.”

“Oh, I do, it's just that there's s-something about them. I can't quite—”

“Crap!” There was a flutter in my stomach and my heart quickened its pace. The information Jasper had shared sprang to mind. “Those pests carry the virus.” A slow breath escaped between my lips as I worked to calm the rising anxiety.

“Yes, but that's not what I was th-thinking, there's s-something else. Anyway, he also said close contact with anyone infected and we have been—”

“Oh!” I interrupted, and with a frenzied motion, scratched the spot where the bug had fed. “This is so itchy!” Red scratch marks covered my forearm, and a small bump appeared.

“That's it!” Beth's eyes widened, and she grinned. “Mosquitoes cause great itching.”

“Wish you would've remembered that sooner.” For the moment my itchy arm erased any concern for contracting a virus.

Beth shrugged, and a more serious expression replaced her cocky smile. “We sh-should have s-stayed.” She cast her gaze ahead of her.

“What? Where?” I rubbed at the deep creases in my brow with my fingertips.

“At the house, we sh-should have s-stayed there.”

“With two dead bodies? And it wasn't a house, it was a prison.” The mention of our former living arrangements conjured images of our attic room. Rough wood walls, rusted cots, buckets used as toilets, the tall wooden wardrobe filled with the belongings of the unfortunate, and the dirty round window played in my head like a strange movie. The echo of Jasper's raspy last breath and the buzzing flies provided the cinematic sound. We had prepared to die in that room, had given up hope. Stop, it's over, I rebuked, we're free. The memory faded, and I gulped in fresh air, relaxing my clenched fists. But are we safe? My eyes scanned the trees, leaves rustled; the faint smell of death, an odour I knew well, tainted the breeze.

“At least, there was sh-shelter, running water, and electricity.” Beth didn't hide her irritation.

“A dilapidated old shack, drippy faucets, and solar generated power from panels that looked outdated and unreliable.” I reminded Beth. The much older style of power generation was in the back yard. Granted they supplied electricity, we'd had a working lamp, but that meant nothing. It was odd I remembered technical things such as solar panels but couldn't put a name to biting insects that caused itching and the potential for disease.

“Still…”

“And. Dead. Bodies,” I repeated, emphasizing each word. Visions of Cecil's fly-covered, rotting body flashed in my head; the overpowering odour was one I would never forget. And then there was Jasper. My breath hitched as I thought of poor Jasper, the pain and anguish he must have suffered.

“We could have removed th-them.” Beth picked at the decomposing wood with a jagged fingernail. Small chunks flaked off and fell.

“Hmph! Don't you mean I would have removed the bodies? You could barely stand the sight let alone the smell.”

Beth shrugged and dropped her gaze; her foot pushed around a large piece of bark and disrupted a small and slimy, legless creature. The squirming body slunk under a pile of rotting leaves. A tuft of red fur clung to a nearby shrub, and I pulled my gaze away, worried the animal's remains lay hidden beneath the twigs and leaves.

We sat in silence. Insects hummed and buzzed; birds sang in the treetops while I shut my eyes and absorbed the sounds of the world. Nature overwhelmed my senses. My lungs expanded, and the action filled my nose with the smells of the trees, the air, the earth, and even the rotting timber. I bent forward until my face hovered above the surface of the downed tree. The strange scent of musty, decaying wood was unlike the boards on the floor and walls that had encased us for… How long were we there? The scratches carved into the floorboards appeared in my head, and I counted the envisioned lines, adding extra for the days I missed.

“What are you doing?”

Beth's voice interrupted my thoughts and caused me to jump. “Thinking.” Green moss brushed against my skin, soft, wet, and cool. The heel of my hand wiped across my nose.

“Looks more like you're s-smelling.”

Another mosquito prepared to dine right next to the growing welt left behind by the previous customer, and I swatted it away. “This is not a buffet!” I held out my itching limb and stood, stretching my arms to the sky. Tiny cracks and pops rippled up my spine. “Time to go.”

“Where?” Beth looked up at me from her spot on the downed tree. Her eyebrows rose high and hid under wavy locks. “Can we search for the t-trail?” There was excitement in her voice.

Confused by her strange question I pressed my fingertips against my brow. I turned in a slow circle and immersed myself in the surroundings. Tall trees met with the cloudy sky, its leaf covered limbs reached upward like outstretched arms trying to sweep away the grey puffs. Occasionally the sun broke through, and I swore the leaves sighed as they bathed in the warmth. The dirt road weaved through the forest and disappeared, swallowed by the trees. Branches hung with ominous intent, reaching out to grab at whoever dared to walk close enough. The house of our imprisonment was no longer visible when I looked back at the path we'd travelled, but it was easy to imagine.

Goosebumps rose, and I trembled. “Keep following the road.” I shrugged.

“To where?”

“To wherever it leads.” I bent over and picked up my pack. The green bag bulged, silver zippers stretched out to their limit, and I worried they'd split open under the pressure.

We packed the backpacks with whatever things we deemed necessary and useful. Unable to stuff in any more items we tied our bedding to the bottom of the full packs.

“Probably sh-should have grabbed more food,” Beth said. She stood and hauled up the black bag. The weight and sudden movement caused her to stumble, but she regained her balance.

I helped her place the heavy pack over her shoulders. My eyes fixed on a small hole in her grey t-shirt as I straightened the straps. Rolled blankets hung below the backpack and hit just above the backs of her knees.

The snap and click of the buckle on Beth's pack pricked my ears and assured me she'd secured the backpack. “This bag is too heavy as it is; you'd never been able to carry it.” I turned away from Beth, swung my load over a shoulder, and waited for her to help with the other strap.

With the other shoulder strap secured, I clicked in the front belt and then tugged on the hem of my bright blue t-shirt; the material straightened out from beneath the harness. There had been many articles of clothing in various sizes in one of several huge boxes, and we each grabbed two t-shirts and two pairs of sweatpants. The soft, grey material of the slightly large pants felt strange yet comforting as it rubbed against my legs when I walked.

I turned and faced the old tree, placed my foot on top, and reached to secure a blue shoelace. The shoes, found in a separate box, were a size or two larger than my feet. “Your turn,” I said and finished tying the lace of the other shoe.

Beth raised her foot and rested it on the tree as I stood behind and steadied her. “We really need to remember to tighten sh-shoelaces before we put these packs on,” she huffed and tightened the black shoelace of one runner.

“Next time.” I clutched Beth's pack as she worked on the bright pink lace of the other.

We discovered footwear in several boxes but none had laces. After searching more cartons we found a small tangled and tattered roll, most on the verge of breaking. Several minutes of untangling and two pairs emerged from the mess. Beth had grumbled that the laces did not match. Finding four intact shoelaces had been hard enough let alone matching ones.

A bright blue lace secured my right shoe while a green one kept my left one in place. The fact they weren't a match was of no concern. “Let's go,” I said, hooking a thumb under each strap.

Beth heaved a loud sigh but uttered no other complaint as we continued walking away from a horrendous past into an uncertain future.

The scuffing of dirt drowned out the sounds of nature as we plodded. My feet slid inside my shoes with every step. Tie them tighter next time, I thought as my attention focused on the ground. A rock bounced off the end of one runner as my toe kicked it aside. A yellow and black caterpillar wriggled across the path right before my foot landed, and I stepped over the critter in time.

“We sh-should have looked harder.” Beth's voice shifted my awareness back to her.

“We did.”

My sister shook her head. “No, there was one place we didn't ch-check.”

There was one place we hadn't checked. There was no way I would poke my fingers into a dead man's pockets in search for a set of keys to his truck. “You didn't want to do it either,” I called out to Beth who continued walking after I stopped.

She came to a halt and turned her icy stare on me. “No, but st-still…”

“Still what?”

Beth waited for me as I caught up to her. She shrugged, and we walked together. “Nothing, just still…”

We trudged along; floppy shoes scraped the ground and caused a mini dust storm.

“Even if we found the keys, we don't remember if we know how to drive.” I booted a rock and watched as it bounced and tumbled out of the way.

“Don't you think we would have remembered once the t-truck started?”

Procedural memory, I hadn't wanted to take the chance. “Maybe.” Silence fell between us again as every step took us closer toward the unknown.

The pack jostled. The weight of it pushed into my body, and I could sense everything it held. But the journal, Jasper's journal, was the most bothersome. We had taken no time to read it before we left, and my anxiety grew at the thought of reading the secrets within its pages.

Stop, I told myself and returned my attention to my feet. It was easier than looking at the trees standing sentry, like they were watching us. I half expected to see a camera, its bloodshot eye peeking out from between the branches of a foreboding tree. My thoughts flickered to the watchful lens in the corner of our room at the compound.

“Do you th-think anyone else got out?” Beth's voice once again broke my concentration.

My gaze narrowed. “What about our brother?” A tingling sensation spread up the back of neck to the top of my head as I spoke the word brother out loud. Jasper's strangled whisper of the truth echoed in my ear. Knowing we had a younger sibling that neither of us remembered having was still weird.

“Not from the house,” Beth jutted her thumb behind her, “from C.E.C.I.L.”

Images of the compound flashed in front of me, cameras, white hallways, injections—each memory a snippet of a strange existence. Who else had escaped? Workers were the only ones I recalled ever seeing though only a few memories of my life at C.E.C.I.L. had surfaced. Even the closest rooms to our own were vacant. Was it possible we had been the last ones? The thought disturbed me. “I don't know.” I smacked and squished a mosquito that tried to dine on me again. My finger flicked its crushed body from my arm and it left behind a tiny streak of blood. I licked my thumb and washed the stain away.

“This forest looks nothing like the one at C.E.C.I.L.” Beth waved a hand at the woods surrounding us.

Once again, my mind filled with memories of tall plastic trees and meandering trails. “Of course not,” I snickered, “these are real. And you mean the forest at C.E.C.I.L. looked nothing like this.” A large rock standing alongside the road caught my attention. It reminded me of a similar one placed by the winding path within C.E.C.I.L. and the day I had planned on touching it. But at the last second I pulled my hand away, afraid they'd see and learn of my awareness.

I moved closer to the side as we approached and stretched out my left hand. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead as I neared the huge rock. What if someone is watching? “Who?” I questioned back aloud and laughed. The skin on my face tightened, and I wiped my palm across my damp brow.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm going to touch that.” I pointed and moved towards it. My feet stopped in front of the large, grey boulder. Small fissures ran over the surface branching off in every direction. A black bug with red legs disappeared into a deep crevice that almost split the stone.

My left hand trembled. A loud buzz filled my ears as my palm neared the rock. I snapped it back then laughed when I saw an insect buzzing above me. I inhaled and let the air escape through pursed lips; my heart slowed. With much caution, I extended my hand again; my fingers quivered.

“Just touch it already.” Beth's slim digits wrapped around my wrist, and before I could resist the sharp tug, my palm rested on the rock. Its rough surface scratched my skin. Coldness travelled up my arm, and I shivered. Beth's warm hand patted the top of mine. “There, now let's go.”

I shook my head and laughed as I trailed behind my sister with my eyes fixed on the ground. Neither of us spoke as we followed the road to wherever it led.

“Now what?” Beth said after several minutes, her voice sounded defeated.

“What?” I halted and stared ahead. The road we'd been travelling on had ended, and another crossed its path. We needed to make a decision at our crossroad.

Two Away

“So, which way do we go?” Beth's head swivelled.

I stepped up next to her and contemplated each direction of the crossroad. There were no signs, and it resembled the road we'd travelled—dusty, long, and deserted. Left or right, neither promised help.

“Let me know when you've figured it out.” Beth released the buckle on the backpack and allowed the heavy load to drop. She sank to the ground, pulled her legs up and rested her chin on the top of her knees.

Unable to decide, I sighed and did the same. Moments later my sister laid flat on her back, with ankles crossed, hands folded on her chest, and her eyes closed. Shallow breaths produced a slight rise and fall of her belly, the only part of her body that moved. Even an ant crawling along her forearm, did not cause her to flinch.

My fingers plucked at the green leaves from various tiny plants around me. The broken stem released a sharp woody scent as I rolled it between thumb and index finger. Each leaf's subtle differences amazed me, their shape, colour—different yet the same. Every one designed to capture energy from the sun and turn it into nourishment for the plant. Photosynthesis, another remembered word.

Paying no attention, I pulled out a weed with three leaves fixed to a dark green stem. Two leaves reminded me of arms and the single leaf at the end, a pointy head. The greenery was familiar, but I didn't know how. The little 'body' twirled between my fingers as leaves of three, chanted in my ear.

“Let it be!” The plant dropped from my hand.

“What?” Beth spoke but didn't stir.

“Leaves of three let it be. Stand up!” I said louder than planned and scrambled to my feet.

“Why?” Beth moved to a seated position.

“Poison Ivy.” Whether it was the name of the plant or the word 'poison', I couldn't be sure, but it caused Beth to jump to her feet.

My eyes scanned the forest edge and spotted the offending plants. The weeds crept from the forest and gathered in patches along the roadside. I investigated where we rested; our weight had flattened everything underneath us. I crouched lower and inspected the ground; a loud sigh of relief escaped my lips.

“What?” Beth said.

“It's okay. There isn't much here, just the odd plant, but I had to go and pick the closest one.”

“What is it?”

“A weed that can leave an itchy rash.” I wiped my palms on my pants and smiled but behind my grin I worried. Not because I'd touched it, I had a vague feeling I'd done so before without consequence. But while my memory grew stronger daily, Beth remembered little. I only hoped it was because I had been off the drug given to us at C.E.C.I.L. for longer.

“What's with you and itchy th-things?” Beth's eyes rolled, and her lips pulled into a half-smile.

I laughed and shook my head. The question made me think of my mosquito bite, and I scratched my arm.

A sudden gust of cool air whipped a lock of my light brown hair against my cheek. I lifted my chin and stared up at the sky. Grey clouds edged with white swirled against a steel blue backdrop. In the distance the sky darkened.

“Definitely going to rain soon; we better decide.”

Beth glanced up before turning her gaze on me. Blue eyes brightened as though a beam of light shone across her face. “Heads or tails?” she said.

“You remember that?”

“A game, sort of, helps with deciding. Now, heads or tails?” She repeated.

“We don't have a coin.”

Beth's brow furrowed. After a few seconds she squatted and dug a small rock from the ground. She held it out in her palm. “Heads or tails?”

“Which is which?” I poked at the flat, round stone in her hand.

Beth sighed as though I'd asked a stupid question. “This side is clean.” She pointed to the rock. “This side,” she pushed the stone over, “is dirty. Clean is heads, dirty is tails.”

“Okay. Heads, left, tails, right?” My eyebrows rose to meet my hairline.

“Fine. Now heads or tails?”

“Heads.”

Beth tossed the small rock up into the air. It tumbled in perceived slow motion, flipping and rolling as gravity pulled it back to earth. The flat stone landed in her outstretched palm and she closed her hand. She uncurled her fingers one at a time to show the dirty side. “Guess we're going right,” she said and reached for her pack.

No longer intimidated or fearful that cameras watched our every move, I observed the trees as we walked. The branches swayed and squeaked as they rubbed against each other in the wind. The leaves rattled. Part of me wanted to climb and ride the rocking limbs, wanted to experience the motion, the freedom. But I kept my feet on the earth.

A bird flew in front of us, its flapping wings the only sound other than the hushing breeze.

“No bugs either,” I said, noting the surrounding stillness.

“What?”

“Since the wind picked up, the birds stopped singing, and I haven't swatted away any buzzing insect.”

“Yup, I noticed. What do we do if it rains?”

The bottom of my t-shirt once again rode up under the strap secured around my middle, and I had to straighten it out. While it had been enjoyable to play in the rain earlier that morning, it had left us soaked. Much to our relief we'd found the clothing we now wore. And though we each had one other change of clothes in our packs, I did not intend to wear mine right away. The aim was to stay clean and dry.

“We should look for shelter.”

Beth stopped and waved her hand at the surroundings. “And where do you suppose we'll find th-that?” She crossed her flailing arms.

If it didn't storm the surrounding thicket offered protection in any downpour. If it involved lightening, hiding among trees was an unsafe idea. “It's not raining yet. Let's continue walking. When it does, the bush is thick and should keep us dry.” I walked past Beth, the sound of her grumpy sigh in my ears.

With my thumbs hooked under the straps, I adjusted the heavy backpack; my lower back ached under the weight. We'd stopped again for a brief rest but the threat of rain kept it short and my body complained with every step.

“How's your back?” I yelled to Beth who was several feet ahead of me.

“Fine.” The gusting wind and rustling leaves muffled her voice. “Yours?”

“Hurts.”

“Want to st-stop again?”

Yes, my body yelled. I wanted to stop, lie on the grass, curl up into a ball, and go to sleep. The wind blew through my hair, and my skin rose into tiny bumps. “No.” A distant roll of thunder spurred me forward. A loud snap from the forest beside me quickened my pace and pulse. “Keep moving.”

“Sh-shit! Did you hear th-that?” Beth stopped and waited for me.

“The thunder or the snap?” I said as I reached Beth.

“Both.”

We marched in unison, our strides long and steps hurried. Another thunderous boom and Beth clutched my hand.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and released her grip.

My lips parted to speak, but I changed my mind. Though Beth hadn't regained her full memory her personality had returned. She'd always been the tough and the stubborn one, but underneath was a caring, and sometimes scared young woman who rarely showed her vulnerable side. When she did, she liked no one to notice.

We continued our silent walk, our steps slowed. Ever vigilant, I looked back from where we came. I needed to know how far we'd walked and a small part of me wondered if something followed.

“How long do you th-think it's been?” There was a nervous edge to Beth's voice brought on by the impending storm.

“What do you mean?”

“Since we left.”

Time made no sense; the effect of having lived in a room with a sealed window. Until I saw a setting sun and a rising moon, hours and minutes meant nothing. I couldn't estimate any moment without a reference. While the growing weariness in my body suggested we'd travelled a distance, my brain told me we hadn't gone far; the house was closer than we thought. Several times I had checked to be sure it was nowhere in sight. I looked at the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun but it had long since disappeared. “Not sure. Could be minutes, hours.”

“Oh,” Beth muttered.

We slogged on, the grinding of rocks and dirt under our feet not loud enough to drown out the creaking trees. The fresh scents and rotting odours of the outdoors blended and drifted to us on the constant breeze. Black clouds covered the sky; the storm was in our near future.

“Maybe we should have gone the other way,” she huffed and stopped.

“Too late for that now.”

“I know.” Beth held out her arm, and I steadied her as she raised her left foot and pulled off her shoe; the bright pink bow bounced with the movement. She turned it over and shook out several small pebbles. “Can't help wonder th-though,” she said as she wiggled her foot back inside the runner.

“If this leads nowhere, then we'll head back.”

Beth turned. “At least it'll be downhill.” She adjusted her pack and continued. Unlike the level, first leg of our journey, this second route had more hills, and we climbed higher.

“Are you hungry?” Beth said as we rested atop a small, yet noticeable incline.

“No.” My stomach rumbled in loud contradiction.

“How far have we walked?” Before I could respond Beth continued. “We've walked a lot, but st-stopped as much too. I don't th-think we've travelled th-that far.”

“It's hard to—” The dark sky lit up with a flash of lighting and interrupted me.

Beth squeezed her eyelids and counted in the manner she had whenever there was thunder and lightning.

From the top of the small mound I could see the two other hills we'd climbed. But the intersection where we'd flipped the rock was not in sight. And it wasn't because we'd travelled a great distance but because a slight bend in the road altered our point of view. The intersection wasn't so far away but hidden behind the trees. I shut my eyes. In my head I mapped out our entire route from the house to the incline where we rested. My stomach sank.

Beth's eyelids remained closed, and her lips moved in silence. Thunder rumbled and stopped her counting. “The storm is… I th-think.”

I nodded, only hearing half of what she said, preoccupied with keeping my sight focused on the foreground. But the need to look beyond overwhelmed me, and I conceded. My eyes narrowed and scanned the forest behind Beth. Seconds later I found what I'd surmised was there. The faint red roofline visible through the trees was the proof. We hadn't travelled far, our breaks longer than our walks, our progress hindered by weakness, our minds stunted by his hunger for power.

“You were right, Beth.” The ghost of the house floated in front of my eyes, and I blinked it away. “We should have waited until we were stronger.” I pointed behind her.

Beth turned, and a moment later her small sharp intake of air showed me she saw what I indicated. “No, you were right. We had to leave, st-staying—” A crack of thunder interrupted her, and she sprang toward me and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Sorry.” She drew away.

“It's okay, Beth.” I didn't stop myself this time. It was okay after what we'd suffered.

Beth's eyes glared at me for a moment but softened as she nodded.

We rose to our weary feet; the storm drew closer and resting would not find us shelter. I reached out and took Beth's hand as we sauntered up the road. Eventually, our steps would take us further away.

Three The Return

It was an odd thing to find a concrete wall crossing the road, a solid door in its middle. And yet there it was. It towered in front of us, its length undetermined as it stretched in opposite directions from the entrance until the forest on each side swallowed it. Its hard and unyielding form a stark contrast to the living trees that ran along beside the barrier. Wind rustled the leaves and limbs swayed and creaked. Apart from the branches bumping into it, the gusts had no effect on the obstacle.

The dirt road passed underneath the large and sturdy entry, and I could see no other passage through the barricade. I pushed on the heavy, steel door, the metal cool and rough beneath my hands, but it was as strong as the rest of the rampart.

“What do you s-suppose is behind it?” Beth said.

“Who knows, but whoever built it didn't want just anyone on the other side. Anyway, we can't climb over it.” The smooth concrete offered no footholds, and it was far too tall to scale with no equipment.

A drop of water splashed on my forehead and trickled down my nose. Whether we found a way through or turned back, we needed to decide soon; the weather worsened by the second.

“There's a panel up there.” Beth pointed to a small solar panel sitting on the top of the wall several feet away from the entrance. Below it a camera pointed at us.

“Do you think that camera works?” The thought it might, made my stomach roll.

Beth picked up a large stone from the side of the road. She approached the surveillance system, brought her arm back, and released the rock. It sailed past and hit a tree with a solid knock. Before I could say a thing, Beth scooped up another rock and tried again. This time the projectile connected with a loud crack. “Maybe that will get someone's attention.” She brushed her hands on her pants and smiled.

“And you think that was a good idea? Maybe we don't want attention from the other side.”

My sister seemed to think over what I said and shrugged. “Too late now.” While she sounded indifferent concern flashed in her eyes.

Beth paced while I worked at slowing my pounding heart. After several minutes and no one arriving at the gate, the fear eased. We were both disappointed and relieved.

The solar panel gave me an idea, and I ran my hands along the edge where the concrete wall and the steel door met. “There!” A narrow, metal plate slid open, behind it a black screen, like that on a cell phone and like the one outside the rooms at C.E.C.I.L. I pressed my fingers onto the smooth, tempered surface, remembering the day I found myself unescorted in the white corridor. The overhead lights had flickered, and the cameras were still, their red lights extinguished. My thoughts returned to the present.

“Maybe it's for an eye,” Beth whispered beside me.

I unfastened the harness from my pack and let the straps slide from my shoulders as I recalled the hazy memory of Jasper pressing a card to a scanner. The darkened sky lit up with a blue flash, and my sister began her ritual counting as I rummaged through my green sack. About halfway down, under a large flashlight, was the leather-bound journal, wrapped in the spare orange t-shirt. Inside the front cover was a pocket and inserted into that was Jasper's identification badge. I had found it tucked inside the journal earlier when looking for the portrait I'd drawn at C.E.C.I.L. The picture of Jasper on the white plastic card knotted my stomach.

“Is that Jasper?”

As words would only get caught in my throat, I nodded instead.

A bar code marked the backside of the ID, and I pressed it to the screen. Nothing happened. After wiping it on my t-shirt, I tried again.

My heart skipped. A small, green light in the top corner blinked. Some mechanical instrument whirred, and the door slid back then halted. The space was just wide enough.

“Looks like we're squeezing through,” I said.

Beth unbuckled her backpack and shifted it from her shoulders. I tucked the journal inside my bag and the ID into my pocket. A heavy drop of rain landed on my head and it tickled as it trickled through my hair.

I bent over and retied the green lace. “Put the bags through first and then—” Squeaking metal interrupted me. When I looked at the gate, a blue runner with a pink shoelace disappeared behind the door.

Beth's smiling face poked through from the other side. “Not much of a s-squeeze.”

I shoved my bag through the opening and followed it. A loud rumble in the sky made me jump and Beth yelped as we hurried. The other side looked much like what we left behind, a dirt road sandwiched between trees. Whatever else hid behind the steel door and concrete wall had yet to show itself, but I hoped for shelter from the storm.

“Stop!” Beth called. With her hands resting on her knees she leaned forward; her shoulders pumped with her heavy breaths.

“Why?” Another lone rain drop fell on my arm.

“So tired,” she huffed.

A sudden wave of dizziness came over me, and my body swayed. I stared at the steel entrance well beyond my sister and at the barely visible opening we'd crossed through moments ago. The skin on the back of my neck prickled as I peered at the eerie narrow space. My imagination was on over-drive, and I pictured Cecil climbing through to catch us. “Me too, but we must keep going.”

Beth removed her backpack and let it drop to the ground, her body did the same. She leaned up against the pack and closed her eyes. “No.”

The only way to convince her to keep moving was to join her, arguing made her more stubborn. I strode forward, my feet aching with each step, and joined Beth.

The wind whipped up a small funnel of dirt; it spun across the road and disintegrated as it hit a clump of wildflowers. The scattered dust floated then settled on the ground. With the entertainment over, I focused on my bag and drew it close. My fingers pulled the metal tab on one of the side pockets. The resulting zip broke the silence of the humid air. It's the calm before the storm, my father's voice whispered in my ear.

I dug my hand into the pocket and pulled the lid from a plastic container. “Here, eat these.” A few hard macaroni pieces sprinkled my palm. We'd found the container in a kitchen cupboard, and I packed it inside the pocket before leaving. The food wasn't the tastiest choice, but it was light and edible.

Beth took the raw pasta from my hand and ate one. “These are gross.”

I popped one into my mouth and nodded in agreement. “But it's food—sort of.”

The sky filled with a flash of lightening, and I tilted my head back in time to see the white-hot light streak through the black clouds.

Beth groaned beside me. “Come on,” she said standing up and pulling her pack with her.

The forest looked inviting. I fought every part of my aching body that wanted to leave the path and lie amongst the plants and bushes under the cover of trees. When the clouds burst, I decided that's where we'd go.

The road took a sharp turn to the left, and Beth and I followed with agonising steps. Several paces later, the route curved to the right. As we rounded the corner we halted, and my mouth fell open. Further ahead of us, the forest that had followed along both sides came to a sudden end. In its place, acres of deep green grass spread out on either side of the laneway and where it stopped stood an enormous building.

A loud clap of thunder jolted me from my stupor. “Come on!” I said as I adjusted the pack and willed my heavy feet to move once more. Large rain drops fell.

My eyes narrowed as I focused my thoughts on the concrete building ahead. While the lawns suggested a stately home, the structure looked like an old, abandoned factory. The closer we got the larger and more sprawling it became.

“What is it?” Beth called out above a loud rumble.

I didn't answer; I needed every bit of energy I had to propel me and motivate Beth to keep moving forward to shelter. The air smelled of rain, electricity, and another odour I could not place. I wrinkled my nose as we closed the gap.

On closer inspection, the great structure ahead of us was not old but damaged. As we drew nearer, we could see some destruction, though most of the building remained intact. I sniffed the air again. The odour I could not distinguish before was now unmistakable and the scent of burned wood and wet ashes evoked a memory as voices from the past echoed.