Getting to my feet, even though I knew what was best, walking out of the mess hall was difficult for me. I struggled taking those first few steps to the open doorway. I had no closure, and without closure I’d never be able to move I’d with my life. I’d constantly be asking myself ‘what if?’
I dragged my feet against the cement, shuffling and scuffing them, trying to detain myself a little bit longer. At the open doorway, I glanced over my shoulder into a pit full of darkness as the depressed feeling that began in my heart swept over my entire body. Then, I began walking back to my room.
It wasn’t until I was half-way down the hall that I heard a noise. A soft, vibrating noise that hummed, like a motor in a brand new car. I pivoted around. I didn’t see anyone following me. There were no footsteps, no shadows against the walls. The humming sound intensified. “Where is that coming from?” Perhaps it was a stupid idea for me to investigate, but with Mr. Baker and his family departing tomorrow, I felt like I had nothing to fear.
The humming sound started to putter as I moved toward the mess hall. I took small, slow steps easing myself forward. Then, when I reached the open doorway and peeked around the wall, Owen shined a flashlight in my eyes, a radiant smile on his face, violet eyes gleaming in the afterglow of the dim lighting.
I rushed toward him, beaming and elated. Relief washed over me when I got closer and was able to gaze into his eyes. “You’re here!” I half-shouted, half-whispered. “I thought something happened to you.”
Letting out a controlled, hushed laugh, he extended his arms to me and pulled me up on to the lift. He wrapped his right arm arou
nd my waist and held it tightly to his body. Then, he hit a button on the lift and we started going up, up into the ceiling.
Hugging him tightly, I never wanted to let go. An overwhelming sense of warmth and safety flourished throughout me and I knew I could trust him. He hit another button on the lift and spun me around to face him. He brushed my hair off of my shoulders, leaned down into my ear, and whispered, “See, like I said before, I never break my promises.”
Chapter 20: Something Wicked This Way Comes
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part;but then shall I know even as also I am known ~Corinthians 1:13
The lift jolted to a stop in between floors. I stumbled forward and Owen caught me, steadying my stance. “Easy there,” he said, softly.
Once I got a firm hold on my balance, I looked at him puzzled. “Why did you stop the lift? Aren’t we going up to the control room?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have much time and we can’t go up there. Mark is there. He’stearing all of the stuff down because he’s leaving tomorrow.”
I frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t have much time?”
“I’m leaving in thirty minutes.”
“What?” I screeched. The sound of my voice filled the narrow, confined space.
Owen lifted his finger to his lips. “SHHH! Do you want Mark to hear you?”
At that moment, Mr. Baker was the least of my concerns. My first and major concern was the fact that I might never see Owen again. “Do you know where you’re going?” Perhaps it wouldn’t be too far. If it wasn’t that far, then that would make us being able to see each other doable.
His violet eyes pierced my chocolate ones, full of uncertainty. “I don’t know. I just know that Mark made it clear to me that wherever he goes I have to follow.”
The last sentence he spoke made me furious. Where was his free will? Did he always intend on being Mr. Baker’s little puppet? And did he honestly think that he wouldn’t be doing the same kind of things somewhere else as he did here? “Do you always do what he tells you?” I asked, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.
He smiled, seductively. “Not always. I kept you alive didn’t I?”
I blushed. “Yes.” The sight of his smile always made my heart flutter—like the exciting feeling a kid would get when they got a present they had been longing for. “But, he treats you so badly. And on top of that, he’s an evil, evil man.”
Owen looked down and took both of my hands in his. He gently brushed his thumb against my skin and spoke sweetly, “I’m not going to disagree with you on that.” He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “But, I’ve known Mark Baker for years and
he does have some redeeming qualities.”
“Ha!” I spat out. “Like what?”
He smirked. “Do you know that I’m a child prodigy? I graduated high school when I was twelve years old. College at seventeen with my Masters in technology and PhD at eighteen in Nuclear medicine.”
He traced my jaw line with the tip of his finger. “I’m sure you’d believe it if I told you Mark Baker didn’t raise chickens for a living.” Oh, I definitely believed that. There was no way Mr. Baker’s obsession with control and tyrannical ways came from raising chickens. “He and I worked together for the government on a string of top secret projects. And everyone in our division had an alias lifestyle. Me, I was a pizza boy.”
I laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
He nodded. “Would you expect your neighborhood pizza boy as a secret government official?”
“No. Not at all.” I tried to picture my neighborhood pizza boy. His name was Barry, he always smelled like stale cigarettes, and he always had this dumfounded look on his face.