58  

IMOGEN

What normally would take me ten minutes has taken two hours.

My fingers fumbled with the parts and pieces of the toilet paper dispenser.

My hands screamed at me while I attempted to straighten out the tiny spiral wire that I intended to use to pick open the door. I hadn’t even started my attempt at attaching it to another piece of plastic to make a weapon out of it.

Eventually, I stopped and shoved the paraphernalia back under the sink to hide it. The skin on my hands needed a break.

The heat of frustration built up in my chest. I could not remember a time I was unable to do something because of physical limitations.

I stared down at my thumbs while Finn slept. I remembered the conversation on the island with Sage and how she told me about her weird infatuation with thumbs. What would she think of mine? They were red and cracked and dried out. Even I was grossed out by them. But mostly, they hurt. The entirety of both my hands hurt.

I looked up when the door across the room opened. Bert knocked softly on the door.

“Good evening,” he said.

Every time Bert came back to check on Finn, the guy seemed to be relaxing more and more.

I jumped up and walked around the bed toward the guard.

“Listen, being captive wasn’t part of this plan. I need to talk to Jack. Immediately. And tell Dr. Cunningham I need to see him now.”

Bert’s eyes flickered nervously to the guard, waiting for a response.

“Dr. Cunningham will come to see you when he’s ready. And your friend, Jack, isn’t available right now.”

If my hands didn’t hurt so bad, I’d jump this guy right now. I debated doing it anyway.

“Just find out when they’re getting back, okay? And I need some food. Some real food this time.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the guy said stiffly.

“Hey Bert, I was wondering if you’d mind having a look at my hands?” I eyed the guard while I spoke because it was the first time I’d addressed Bert directly. I wasn’t so sure I was supposed to, but he was some kind of doctor, right? At least he’d been looking over Finn, so maybe he could offer some suggestions on what to do about this redness.

Bert glanced at the guard, who didn’t look pleased at our dialog, and said, “I’d be happy to.”

He took one of my hands in his, a gentle, confident touch, just like a good doctor.

“I noticed this yesterday,” he said. His voice sounded tight. “Let’s get some lotion on them to sooth the dryness, and I’ll do some research on what’s best.”

Then Bert looked me directly in the eye and added in a low voice, “I’d hate for you to be taken hostage.” He squeezed my forearm slightly. “With the pain, I mean.”

His gaze bore into me. He released my hand and directed his attention to the guard, leaving me to puzzle over what just happened.

“May I go get her some lotion?”