Midnight Flight (Broken Wings 2) - Page 3

"You'll see." she replied, and began to unfasten the straps.

"Who are you? Am I at some school? Where is this school that I had to be flown here?"

"You're wasting your breath asking me questions," she said, stepping back. "Get up and get out."

"What happened to my clothes? Why am I wearing this rag dress?"

Her untrimmed eyebrows lifted and I thought she smiled, although it was hard to tell because her lips were so stiff. She seized my right arm and tugged to get me to stand. When I did. I wavered for a moment and she had to grab my shoulders to keep rue from falling.

"I'm so dizzy," I said "They put me to sleep. Maybe they gave me something poisonous."

"Oh, you poor little thing," she said with exaggerated sympathy and sweetness. Then she snapped. "Walk!" She poked me at the base of my spine with her thick, right forefinger, which felt like the barrel of a gun.

I scowled back at her and made my way down the small aisle to the door. For a moment I was dizzy and nauseated again, Then I caught my breath and navigated the half dozen metal steps. The outside area was well lit, but all I saw was what looked like a building made of concrete. It had bland gray walls and a metal door with no windows on it. The front of the building had no windows either.

The first thing I noticed when I started down the steps was how hot it was It was dark, but it felt like the middle of a summer day in Atlanta, especially in the poorer part of the city where we had lived. It wasn't true that people of African descent didn't notice the oppressive heat and humidity as much as white people.

"Where is this? It's so hot."

"Hell," I heard her say behind me. "Keep walking toward the building before I have you carried there." she threatened. and I continued slowly. Where had the two young pilots gone? Why wasn't anyone else around? I stopped to look and she gave me another shave to move me toward the building,

"Where are we going?"

"Just walk to the building and keep your mouth shut," she ordered.

Every time I turned my head to look around, she pushed me. "Keep your hands off me," I warned.

"We've got a long night ahead of us. Move it," she commanded.

When we reached the door, she stepped ahead and opened it. The hinges squeaked as if it hadn't been opened far a hundred years. It was like opening a tomb. How could this be a school? Why was I being brought here?

"Go in." she said.

I hesitated and she reached out, seized my wrist, and pulled me forward, driving me into the building with such farce. I nearly stumbled and fell.

The inside was poorly lit by some weak overhead neon lights. but I could see it was just a dusty, empty warehouse or something. At first I didn't realize anyone else was there. They were both so quiet and so still, Then I saw a petite, rust-color-haired girl sitting on a stool in front of a desk on my right. Her hands were folded, the fingers gripping like the fingers of someone in pain. Her knuckles looked as if little white buttons had been sewn onto them. She was dressed in the same sort of one-piece rag I was wearing, and I could also see she had the same style shoes.

Sitting off on my left was another girl with styled pecan brown hair. Even though she. too. was dressed like me and the other girl, she held her head with a more arro

gant air, her posture firm, but her arms folded under her breasts. I thought I could even make out a small smirk of impatience on her lips. Who were they? Was this concrete building supposed to serve as a classroom? Why was it so poorly lit then? A hailstorm of questions peppered my brain.

"Sit," my escort ordered, and pushed me toward the empty stool and desk at the center.

"What is going on? Why am I in here? This isn't any school. I'm supposed to be taken to a school. I want to know where I am." I demanded more loudly, my hands on my hips. My voice echoed in the tomblike building.

"Just sit and shut up." my escort blared. "The longer you act stupid, the longer this is going to take."

I looked at the other two, who glared back at me with an expression of annoyance that suggested I was making things harder for them as well,

Reluctantly, I did what she said.

"Now what?" I snapped back at her. She did finally smile.

"Now, it begins." she said, turned, and walked out of the building, closing the door behind her.

I was right about that door. It sounded like a lid being shut on a coffin.

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Tags: V.C. Andrews Broken Wings Horror
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