The pines that protected Brettville from the rest of the world became bigger and bigger as she neared the town’s border. They waved dangerously in the strong wind and towered menacingly over Ellie.
With enough distance between her and the center of town Ellie stopped to take a breath. Nobody would look for her here, anyway. She could walk now and soon a car would pass by in the right direction. She could hitchhike her way out of here.
Ellie walked slowly toward the pines when a strange itch began to tickle her toes. She thought that she had strained her muscles by the sudden run and decided to pay it no mind.
The itch grew more powerful, however, and crawled from her toes all the way to her groin, where it nestled briefly. Then it jumped to her chest and Ellie tried to scratch it away. Only the itch seemed to be on the inside of her body now, where she couldn’t reach.
The itch grew stronger and stronger, slowly turning into a horrible burn that clawed at Ellie’s throat. It choked her and, having trouble breathing, the girl fell to her knees.
Sweat dripped from her forehead and Ellie was convinced she was having a heart attack then. She had pushed her body too far and now she was dying. It was only fair because she had nothing of value to offer to this world, anyway.
The burn entered her head and Ellie screamed in unbearable pain. It clawed into her brain and forced horrible echoes through her skull.
“My chocolate milk! How long it’s been. Let me have a taste of my chocolate milk!”
Ellie would recognize that voice anywhere. It was him. Only it couldn’t be, because she had killed him back in Cleveland.
Jane walked through the fields just outside of Brettville with her bodyguard. The October wind was fierce and she had given up on trying to tame the hair blowing in front of her face.
Colored leaves twirled freely through the air, carrying with them the musky scent of autumn. Their playful appearance stood in stark contrast with Jane’s current reality.
The fields were all abandoned and overgrown now but at one point, Jane knew, they had been the place of labor for many black slaves. Their ghosts still lingered on these fields, clinging to the pain and abuse that they had suffered, not able to let go of a violently unfair past.
Jane didn’t want to, but if she tried she could smell the putrid mix of blood and sweat coming from these lost souls.
She could not help but feel their pain reflected by her own consciousness. Desperation, confusion, and the burn of the relentless whip carved themselves into her mind. At times it was difficult for her not to start crying, but she stayed strong because she didn’t want to explain any of this to Caleb.
These ghosts, no matter how sorry Jane felt for them, wasn’t why they were here. They were here for something much older and far more dangerous than the suffering spirits that roamed the abandoned fields outside of Brettville.
Caleb asked from slightly behind her, “Any idea if we’re getting close?”
Jane shrugged as she turned her head slightly to look at him. “Not sure. I’ll know it when I see it.”
Silently they continued through the fields until they reached a small creek, filled abundantly by the October rain.
Jane took a few steps back, ran forward, and jumped to get across. When she landed she lost her balance and had to reach for the wet grass so she wouldn’t slide down.
She looked back at her concerned bodyguard as she said, “I almost fucked that up, huh?”
Caleb crossed the creek easily and helped her back on her feet.
Jane had long since given up on trying to control her abilities. She heard every thought, all the time, whether she wanted to or not. Caleb’s mind felt rushed to her, with one chaotic thought after another fighting for its time in the spotlight. He didn’t like giving them the attention they deserved, Jane realized, because doing so meant facing demons he felt powerless against.
When he helped her back on her feet, however, his mind was focused and calm. As if his protector’s instinct would always take precedence over his own trauma.
Jane rubbed her hands and proceeded to pat off the grass stains from her pants. Her knees burned a little bit, but otherwise she was completely fine.
Caleb said, “I noticed that you tend to move slowly. That jump looked awkward, too.”
Jane nodded. “I grew up in a lab; gym wasn’t part of the curriculum. My motor skills aren’t that well developed, sadly.”
“Makes sense. But it’s good to know what you can and can’t do. If a situation ever gets physical, I mean.”
Jane briefly locked eyes with her bodyguard. He looked at her with a cold, analyzing gaze and she knew he was calculating her odds of survival under various circumstances. The skill with which he did so was both impressive and terrifying.
Several different situations in which Jane could die flashed through Caleb’s mind, each one more gruesome than the one before. In a matter of seconds Jane saw herself stabbed, shot through the head, her throat slashed, her face beaten to a bloody pulp, and her insides torn from her stomach.
All those moments were accompanied by Caleb’s mental notes on how fast and strong she was. How her small frame was an advantage in some situations, but a risk in others. Following on those notes, Jane heard the plans he formulated in his head to prevent all the terrible things he could imagine from happening to her.
Jane looked away from Caleb and shifted her attention along with her gaze. She refocused on the seemingly endless fields, decorated here and there by withered wooden fences and colored by the fallen leaves.
“Come on, Caleb. We need to keep moving.”
Together they continued to defy the wind that sometimes lay dormant, only to well up in a series of powerful blows to their bodies. As if the wind gathered its energy to keep them from reaching a secret treasure hidden in the distant past of Brettville’s outskirts.
Jane knew she wasn’t going to find any treasures here. If anything, she would find hints at the uncomfortable truths life and nature had to offer. Truths that best remained hidden to people because they were so wounding that most could never recover from them.
These were the truths Jane was actively looking for and inviting into her mind. Truths that she had to witness, had to listen to, had to allow inside her head, because that was the only way forward.
To stop was to move backward. To move backward was to run. To run was to die.
They’d kill me, take my brain, and use what they learned for the next specimen.
She was no hero. She was a young woman who had been given one-third of a chance at life, trying desperately not to die. Hoping to retain some kind of freedom in the process.
How long could she keep doing that? How long before she slipped up? Just like with the creek, there would come a moment where she stumbled and lost control of the situation. That was the moment Agent Bradford would push the button and she would get traded in for the next model. The better, faster, stronger one.
With Caleb trailing shortly behind her she took a sharp left, guided by an intuition that kept tugging at her soul. She was close, she just knew it, and around here, somewhere, she would find what she was looking for.
Out of nowhere it appeared. A field that was greener than the others and, strangely, seemed to be kept in neat order. Its fresh grass was cut short and no leaves dared to venture onto its clearly defined terrain. If animals even lived around here, Jane sensed, they would avoid this strange territory like the plague.
It wasn’t the field’s oppressive atmosphere that struck fear into Jane’s heart, making it hard for her to breathe. It was the giant oak that stood in the middle of the foreign sea of grass, looming over her like a giant watchman ready to strike her down.