Chapter Three

Mr. Quinn removed her handcuffs and directed her to a different wing of the facility. The building as a whole seemed uninhabited at this time of night. She could read it was one o’clock in the morning on the oversize clock in the foyer. The water fountain nearby eased the tension in her body, the sound of water pattering against water. She clung to anything to distract her from the night’s events. It wasn’t long before a security officer at the desk ahead of them monitored them with too much interest.

“Good evening, Mr. Quinn,” the security officer said. “How goes you?”

“Evening, Ted.”

They shared a look that agreed she was in for something crazy.

They cleared a short hall, where at each side of them was a wooden door, one marked “Men’s” and the other “Women’s”. It reminded her of the segregation of a public swimming pool. She heard the sound of a running shower in the far background. Mr. Quinn stopped at a hole in the wall marked “Receiving”.

“This is your stop,” he said, tapping the bell on the counter twice. A person was awakened from the back. The woman was in her late sixties, her beehive hair an obvious wig. Her eyes were slanted and red from sleep. “How was your nap, Stella?”

“Wonderful until you came along.” Stella studied Addey with sympathy. The woman dug into a shelf behind her, gathered ten different pieces of paperwork, stapled them and placed them on a clipboard. “Sign your life away.”

Mr. Quinn sneered at her. “Thank you, Stella.”

He flipped through the pages, showing her the document. “There is a positive side to this. You sign on for two years, you get a full ride to the college of your liking. Also, your folks will receive a two-hundred-grand handout from the government. Call it a giant food stamp.” He thought it was a clever joke Addey would enjoy. She didn’t laugh. “It’s for your trouble, okay? We’ll label it as a life insurance policy, and your parents are the beneficiaries.”

He seized her arm, his grip cold as it was circulation cutting. He whispered in her ear, “You can survive. Watch your back and don’t trust anybody. You make it two years, you’re home free. Never be afraid to defend yourself. That could mean murder. Nobody will hold it against you.”

He turned to the final page, returning to whom he had been moments before his strange warning. “Sign on the bottom.”

“Do I have a choice?”

He offered a crooked smile.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

She signed the document, and she’d regret it indefinitely.

Mr. Quinn said good-bye, and they parted ways. Stella reappeared and pointed to the women’s room. “You can clean yourself up, dear. There will be a hot shower and clothes your size waiting inside. Take your time. This is all overwhelming, I’m sure. If it’s any consolation, you’re being strong. You can’t go wrong when you’re strong.”

The words sounded like dialogue from a cheesy after-school special. She let it go and walked to the wooden door at the end of the hall. She opened it, and it was a shower stall with a bathroom, mirror and set of clothes in a plastic bag folded neatly on a shelf.

The door was locked behind her, the audible click making her jump. “Relax. It’s just me, Stella.”

Just when she thought her situation was awful enough, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Blood caked her neck and chest, and it completely stained her legs. The red was a breaking crust. The majority of it was Deke’s.

Her brother was dead.

The PSA hadn’t bothered to computer fake his image.

She stood frozen. Her black hair—“Black as a jelly bean,” her mother used to say—was coming undone from the hair clip, the curly length extending down to her shoulders. She owned a soft, doughy face. Her skin was tanned from the summer sun. She didn’t burn. A flat, emotionless expression had taken over her otherwise friendly demeanor.

Addey checked the room for windows. There were none. She kept thinking out an escape plan, and nothing came together. What would happen if she did escape the facility and somehow reach civilization? Would someone be waiting in hiding to capture her or gun her down?

“I can’t beat them,” she said to herself. “Whatever, I need a shower.”

She undressed and cleaned her brother’s blood from her body.

 

 

Her skin was the color of blush. The shower had been hot enough to scald clean. She changed into a black skirt and a white button-up shirt: what was provided. A name was embroidered into the right breast pocket: Addey.

“This is impossible.”

She eyed the name again and again.

She tried on the black pumps, the heels three inches long. Before she could attempt to open the door, it was opened for her. Stella waited at the threshold.

“Good girl, you’re cleaned up and dressed. You won’t be needing your old clothes anymore. Okay, dear. You can leave the room.”

She considered overtaking the old woman and running for her life, but where would that get her? They’d find her, the PSA, and she’d be in no better position than before.

Stella gave her uniform the once-over. “Oh, you’ve got a tear in your back. Can’t they make these clothes to last? Here, let me fix that.”

The woman moved behind her. That was the moment Addey was pricked at the neck. Instantly she was on her knees, her head spinning like a top, the scene turning into burning pixels of blurry color. She peered up at Stella, who was welding a spent syringe.

She said, “I’m so sorry, dear. There’s no time to explain things. You have a plane to catch.”