Taken

A View from Inside

She isn’t out for long. The sound of the van door opening intrudes upon her darkened world. A dull, throbbing pounds inside her head accompanied by an occasional sharp, shooting pain as if an ice pick is penetrating her skull. Her eyes are open but the blackness remains. The fear inside heightens as she recalls the attack and what she assumes is her subsequent capture. She remembers heading out in search of her kids and her fear mixes with anxiety about finding them.

A pair of hands folds under her shoulders and she feels herself lifted. The bag over her head is removed and the blinding light of the day increases the pain already in her head. She is helped to her feet and she glances around as best as she can squinting from both the increase in light and the pain. She recognizes that she is at the high school and therefore knows she wasn’t out for long. Standing on her shaky legs with a man on either shoulder helping her, she is walked into what used to be the main school office. Confusion reigns as to why she was attacked and why they are keeping her. She is brought into the main secretarial office and placed in one of the brown plastic seats lining the walls.

“Don’t struggle or try to get away and it’ll go easier for you,” one of the men says.

The threat in his voice unsettles her even more. She knows she is not in a good situation. Due to the drastic change in her cicumstances, the room looks so unfamiliar from the many times she has visited the school for one reason or another. The office reminds her of her kids and a knot of worry forms in her stomach. She just wants to get out of whatever she has found herself in and go find them. Balance would be restored to a large degree if she could just find them or at least know where they are and how they are doing.

The man who talked to her leaves and enters one of the other offices only to return a short time later. “Come with me,” he says standing by her shoulder. He and another man help her to her feet once again.

She is placed in another chair and faces a man in camouflage fatigues sitting behind a desk. The rays of the sun outside filter in through open blinds behind him. Dust motes sparkle in the air where the bands of sunlight find their way in. The mostly balding, slightly overweight man stares at her for a moment with his chin resting on steepled hands. Lifting his head and sitting upright he clears his throat.

“Do you mind telling me what you were doing walking around alone?” He asks.

“I was looking for my kids,” she replies.

He shakes his head in confusion momentarily. “How is that you were able evade the ghouls for so long?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t evaded anything. I woke up this morning and my kids were gone. I set out to look for them. You wouldn’t happen to have seen them would you? Two girls and a boy, teens. My son is about six feet tall with blond hai..” she begins to say.

“That doesn’t matter now,” the man says interrupting her description. “What matters is that you follow the rules around here. You’ll be put on a work team as soon as your head heals to the point where you can work. Breakfast is just after sunrise and dinner when you return from the fields. No congregating or talking. Any attempt to escape will not be a pleasant experience for you so you can get that out of your head right away. If you have to use the bathroom, you’ll notify one of the guards and be escorted. And, there will be no slacking. Do you understand what I’ve told you?”

She nods not trusting her voice. Tears well up in her eyes thinking she might not get out of this or see her kids again. The frustration she felt at not being able to find her son and daughters when she awoke builds along with the anxiety and a feeling of complete hopelessness. She wishes she could remember anything prior to this morning. She does remember the flu and some of the past but there is a blank gap between seeing her kids to bed at night and waking this morning. It’s obvious something has happened and time has passed but she can’t remember any of it.

“Show her to the women’s quarters and put her in with the other injured,” the man behind the desk says addressing the two men standing just behind her shoulder.

The light isn’t as brilliant and blinding as she is taken outside and over to one of the classroom buildings. Her headache dissipates to a degree but the knot in her stomach, her confusion, the worry, and hopeless feeling remain.

She is guided to a classroom filled with other women and girls who are either sitting on cots or lying on them. The desks have been removed and replaced with cots covering the linoleum of the classroom floor with small lanes between each row. A guard with a gun leans back in a chair behind what once was a teacher’s desk in the far corner of the room. She is given a cot and she lies down staring at the drop-down ceiling and hanging florescent lights. Her mind is both numb and racing a hundred miles an hour. The soft breathing of the others in the room, accompanied by an occasional moan, is the only sound. Sunlight pours through the open windows and a slight breeze blows sporadically across her face.

In the late afternoon, she is gathered with the rest of the women and taken outside to the fields just south of the gym building. They are given some time to walk around. She is still numb and merely wanders from place to place staring at the chain link fence in the distance. Freedom lies just on the other side; so near and yet so far away. The guards keep a close eye on the group and they aren’t allowed to venture far into the field. Heartache fills her. She sinks to her knees, starts to cry, and feels an arm wrap around her shoulder. Through her blurred vision, she turns and sees an elderly lady.

“It’ll be okay, hon. You’ll get used to it and it won’t be so bad,” the elderly woman says quietly to her.

“But I don’t know where my kids are,” she says with the tears streaming once again down her already wet cheeks.

“There, there. You just focus on staying alive for them,” the woman says. “Keep the faith that you’ll see them again. Hold onto that.”

She hears vehicles approaching, turns, and watches a line of school buses drive along the street in front of the high school. Her eyes stay on them as they enter through a gate and park along the entrance drive. People emerge and she watches intently for any sign of her son and daughters. Many people exit but none that even slightly resemble her kids. The helpless feeling sinks even deeper.

They are rounded up and taken into the cafeteria building where they sit quietly at tables after getting their food. Several people next to her attempt to engage her in conversation but she feels too low to respond. After their meal, they are taken to the gym and allowed to shower. Fresh clothes are dumped in a pile and there is a scramble amongst those there for clothes that fit. The posted guards chuckle at the frenzy.

“I’ll never stop being amused by that,” she hears one of them say quietly to another.

She doesn’t have the energy to fight over clothes so dons her old ones. They are taken to their rooms and that’s where they remain for the night. The only difference being there are two guards during the evening sitting behind the desk. At one point, she has to go to the bathroom and asks one of the guards if she can go. He rises and escorts her across the hall to a door marked “girls.” To her horror, he enters along with her. He doesn’t enter the stall but she is mortified having to go with a man so close.

During the night, she hears faint shrieks rising in the darkness every so often and wonders what those are. She worries they are torturing people or found someone escaping. They don’t sound like shrieks of pain but she can’t figure out what else they could be. Rising in the morning, she undergoes the same routine; breakfast, shower, field, and then back to the room. Time passes slowly and depression sets in; a constant, tired feeling mixed with restlessness. She is told in the evening that she is being assigned a work team and guided to a different classroom after her shower.

The next morning, she is shaken awake early, taken to breakfast, showers, and then is guided to one of the parked yellow school buses. They are driven to an open field with partially completed structures and tilled soil. She is assigned to work in the fields preparing the ground for planting or picking from crops already sown. The guards around the perimeter are intermixed with the various groups working. It’s hard work and a long day but at least she isn’t given too much time to think; the work occupies her mind. Over time, she comes to learn what happened to the world and hearing that makes her even more anxious for her kids. The sun lowers to the west and they are herded back into the buses for the trip back to the compound. This is how her days and weeks continue.

Gonzalez awakes. The pain is immediate and unrelenting. Her head throbs with her heart beat and it feels like someone stuck a stiletto in it; starting at her forehead and driving it through her brain and down her neck. There is first the dull, throbbing pulse followed immediately by a sharp, penetrating pain through the entirety of her head.

With her eyes still closed, she raises a hand and feels a tender bump on her forehead just above her right eye. Her foggy mind recalls seeing the windshield of the Humvee closing in quickly. She opens her eyes and the bright light sends pain shooting through her head. She groans and squints through one eye. The sight confuses her for a moment. The white ceiling and part of a hanging light fixture doesn’t fit with the thought of her in the Humvee. She remembers the red truck and knows she was pulled from the wreck. But to where? She thinks.

At first she thinks her and the kids were taken back to Cabela’s but the sight above her doesn’t fit. Oh shit, the kids, she thinks and begins to rise. The pain intensifies and she is struck by an instant bout of nausea. She lies back down and the pain and sick feeling subside. She turns her head to one side and sees Michelle sitting upright on a cot with her head in her hands. Glancing around the room as much as her head allows, Gonzalez notices rows of cots in what looks like a classroom of some sort. The bookshelves in the back and chalkboard up front give her that impression. Rolling her head in the other direction, she sees Bri lying in a cot next to her with her eyes closed. She also sees an armed man sitting behind a desk by the blackboard. Sitting up slowly and fighting pain and nausea all of the way, she reaches a sitting position and leans over until the intensity of both subside.

“Ah, you’re up. Good,” she hears the man at the desk say. She gives a grunt in reply.

“Okay, listen up because I’m only going to tell you this once,” he continues.

She listens but his words don’t really penetrate. He seems to be telling her rules of some kind. She hears and takes it in as best she can with her mind feeling like a ball of cotton. From the substance of the rules, she gathers they have been captured and are being held. That is in line with their being run off the road. She looks down and notices her gear has been removed. Gonzalez then sinks to her knees on the floor and shuffles over to Bri to check on her. She notices Bri’s chest rise and fall beneath the black fatigue top. Lying on a basic olive drab cot, Bri seems to be just sleeping.

“What are you doing?” The man asks rising from his chair.

“I’m just checking on her,” Gonzalez replies although her voice seems to come from a thousand miles away and as if she has a mouthful of marbles. She knows she has a concussion.

“Okay, just this time and no whispering. If you talk, I want to be able to hear it,” he says sitting back down and bringing his semi-automatic pistol up.

At Bri’s side, Gonzalez notices cots taken up by other women and girls. They are either sitting like Michelle or lying on their cots, all watching Gonzalez. Looking over to Michelle, who is now looking at her, Gonzalez asks if she is okay. Michelle nods but the movement makes her turn pale and she immediately covers her mouth. Michelle glances around anxiously, rises, runs over to a small garbage bin, and throws up what little she has in her stomach. The guard rises and watches alertly. Finishing and wiping the tears away, Michelle stumbles back to her cot.

“Just lie down, Michelle,” Gonzalez says. “It will pass.”

Turning back to Bri, Gonzalez looks her over for any obvious injuries. Her skin color looks good and she doesn’t find anything apparent. Patting Bri lightly on the cheek, she whispers but loud enough for the guard, who is beginning to sit once again, “Bri. Bri. Wake up.”

Bri feels something tapping against her cheek and hears her name being called. It seems from so far away but becomes clearer with each call. Pain in her arm flares and the dull throbbing pulses her head in rhythm with her heartbeat. She opens her eyes and sees Gonzalez above peering down at her. The fear of the chase and waking with a different view causes a jolt of adrenaline. Seeing Gonzalez above her calms her to an extent but her mind fills with questions.

“What happened?” She asks.

“I’m not exactly sure. Are you okay? Anything hurt?” Gonzalez asks.

“My arm hurts,” she answers.

“Which one? And where?” Gonzalez asks looking down.

“My left arm. On the forearm,” she replies.

She watches as Gonzalez unbuttons the sleeves of her top and gently rolls the sleeve up. The left forearm is swollen and red at about the midpoint.

“Flex your fingers for me, Bri,” Gonzalez says.

Bri brings her fingers to a fist but it’s difficult and increases the pain to the point that beads of sweat break out on her forehead. She groans as she brings her fingers to a fist once again.

“That’s okay, Bri. Relax them. You may have a fracture so don’t move your arm,” Gonzalez says beginning to unlace her boots.

“Hey you! What are you doing?” The guard asks once again.

“This girl may have a broken arm and I’m making a splint for her. Can you see if there are any rulers in the desk I can use?” She asks the now standing guard.

He eyes her suspiciously for a moment and then reaches down to open a drawer. Rummaging around, he places two long rulers on the edge of the desk.

“You can come up and get them but if you try anything, I won’t hesitate with this,” he says waving his gun.

The guard backs away from the desk and motions for Gonzalez to approach the desk. She rises feeling the sharp pain shoot through her head. Nausea grips her. She pauses to get her balance and waits for the feeling to subside. The guard gestures impatiently and Gonzalez holds out a hand asking him to wait a moment. Her equilibrium restores and she walks slowly to the desk retrieving the rulers.

Removing her socks, Gonzalez has Bri hold the rulers in place making sure the ends extend past the wrist in order to keep the forearm as immobilized as possible. Bri grimaces as Gonzalez ties the socks tightly against her arm.

“If you feel your fingers go numb or tingly, tell me or, if I’m not around, loosen the socks and retie them looser. How does that feel?” Gonzalez asks.

“It’s still throbbing but better. Thanks,” Bri says giving Gonzalez a smile which she returns.

“Where are we?” Bri asks looking around.

“I’m not sure to be honest,” Gonzalez answers.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Michelle is here behind me but I’m not sure where Robert is.”

Bri sighs and stares at the ceiling. What she took to be an adventure at the start, with the exception of not knowing where her mom is and the possibility that she turned into a night runner, has turned into anything but that. First her mom, then Nic, and now Robert. She feels a terrible sadness thinking she is the only one left. A tear runs down her cheek. Gonzalez gently wipes it away.

Gonzalez looks to the guard, who is staring out at the sunny day, and whispers, “We’ll get out of here, you have my word on that.”

“It’s not that. I’m the only one left,” Bri says as another tear follows the first.

“Now Bri, I’m sure Robert is fine. I think they segregated us. Look around, there’s only women here,” Gonzalez whispers. Bri turns her head and looks around slowly. A small vestige of hope rises as she verifies Gonzalez’ words.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Bri asks focusing once again on Gonzalez.

“We’ll worry about that when we rest up and feel better. And, don’t forget, there are the others. They’ll find us,” Gonzalez says.

“How will they find us?”

“I was able to get a radio call out and your dad’s a very resourceful man,” Gonzalez answers to which Bri smiles. The tears clear up but her thoughts still remain on her mom and Robert. Looking around further, a light bulb goes off in her head.

“I know where we are,” she says quietly. “This looks like Mrs. Watford’s classroom. I think we are at my high school.”

“That’s enough! I said no talking unless I can hear you. Back to your cot,” the guard says coming out of whatever reverie he was engaged in.

With a gentle touch on Bri’s shoulder, Gonzalez retreats back to her cot. They are held in the room for the rest of the day, the only break coming when meals are brought. They and the others in the small classroom eat their meals quietly. Sitting in the classroom, Bri verifies they are in fact in her “old” school. Michelle is withdrawn but when Bri tries talking to her, she finds that Michelle is also worried about Robert. She repeats Gonzalez’ words about the appearance of being segregated. Bri watches as she sees the same hope, which she had upon hearing those words, leap in Michelle’s eyes.

Another guard joins them in the classroom for the evening. Bri hears a few night runner shrieks erupt during the night along with a gunshot. Her fears come alive knowing there are night runners about and she hopes those that have taken them know how to handle them. She realizes she feels naked and vulnerable without the familiar feel of her M-4. The feeling that she has become so used to it surprises her. Not that she’s been in any firefights like Robert and her dad but she likes the feeling that she could attempt to defend herself if needed. The training Lynn gave them and their solo training times with her dad has elevated her confidence to a great degree. She holds onto the reality that she can’t storm a night runner domain by herself, but the confidence is there.

She has a sleepless night. Her arm throbs throughout the whole time; sometimes intensely and other times settling down to a low ache. Her mind also races; her mom, Robert, how to get out of this place, the night runners she assumes are outside, along with remembrances of Nic. Her feelings follow these thoughts and tears silently form remembering Nic. She feels like a hand is gripping her heart tightly. She wants to wake up from this horrible dream and find herself tired but rising to her alarm to get ready for school. The reality that this isn’t going to happen settles and her mind heads back to thoughts of escaping.

She wakes to Gonzalez lightly shaking her shoulder. Apparently I did fall asleep, she thinks opening her eyes to a room lit by the sun cresting the eastern horizon. Her arm still aches and she repositions the makeshift splint with help from Michelle. They are guided into a cafeteria and are the only ones seated. Afterwards, they are brought into the gym and allowed to shower. Bri dons her black fatigues afterwards wishing for a change but knows there’s nothing she can do about it. She slowly pulls them back on being careful with the rulers tied to her arm.

They are then led outside, the bright light blinding her momentarily. Standing, her arm throbs even more with it below her heart. With her good arm, she cradles it against her chest. She sees they have been joined by others but stays close to Gonzalez and Michelle. Bri eyeballs the fence across the fields and feels a yearning to be on the other side; yearns to be free. The guards seem much too aware for her to make a break for it. Plus, the distance she’d have to run and the fact that her arm wouldn’t allow her to climb the fence once she arrived keeps the desire in check. She notices the wire stretched across the top of the fence. That’ll slow me down a bit, she thinks focusing back on the others in the yard with her.

She notices they are all inter-mixed; men, women, boys, and girls. A familiar dark blond, short-haired head rises above several others a short distance away.

“Robert!” She cries and takes off towards the familiar head. She is instantly reminded of her arm and, with a cry of “Ow,” slows to a brisk walk.

Robert turns at the sound of his name and walks towards her. She sweeps her good arm around him as they come together and feels his strong arms tightly envelop her pulling her close.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says sobbing slightly as she presses into his chest. “I was so scared something happened to you.”

“I’m so happy to see you too, Bri,” she hears him say. They pull away and he turns to embrace Michelle. She watches as Robert and Michelle hold each other tightly and each with a big grin.

They quickly catch each other up on their previous day and evening with not much having to be said. It’s apparent they’ve been captured and are being held. Robert shares that the guys are being kept in the gym with at least one guard looking over them at night from an upper gym balcony.

“We need to get out of here,” Robert says. “Bri, how is your arm?”

“Gonzalez thinks it’s broken or fractured,” Bri says. “But I’ll manage. Do you have a plan?”

“Look everyone, we’re not going to do anything right away unless the optimal opportunity comes up. Bri is in no condition to move like we’ll need to and we don’t know what the others are up to,” Gonzalez says.

“We don’t know if they even know where we are,” Robert says. “We have to do something.”

“Give it a few days until Bri’s arm is better and we’ll know if the others are around by then. Until then, we don’t make any waves,” Gonzalez says.

“I think I can get out of the gym anytime,” Robert says.

“Okay, we’ll use that if we need to,” Gonzalez replies.

Bri notices a guard making their way through the people gathered. “A guard is coming.”

“Say what you need to and quickly. We’ll talk when we can,” Gonzalez says.

Bri notices Robert looking off toward a tree-covered hill in the distance. “What are you looking at?” She asks as the guard nears.

“Looking for dad,” Robert answers.

“Break it up. You know the rules, no gathering,” the arriving guard says.

They split and soon their time outside comes to an end. They are shepherded back into the classrooms and Robert disappears into a set of doors leading to the gym. Just before entering the classroom building, Bri glances back towards the hill Robert was looking at and smiles thinking her dad might indeed be sitting there watching them. She’s been very surprised in the last months at just what her dad is capable of.

The day comes and goes. They are allowed another hour outside around noon and talk quietly amongst themselves until they are broken up once again. With her arm bothering her, Bri thinks of taking a towel if they are allowed to shower to make a sling. She wants to be as ready as she can if an opportunity arises. If Gonzalez sees a chance for them, or Robert for that matter, then she doesn’t want to be the reason they don’t take it. She, Gonzalez, and Michelle are moved into another classroom in the afternoon.

She hears the sounds of vehicles arriving through the partially open windows of the classroom. They are soon moved to the school cafeteria and join others being held in the camp. She sees Robert and they all sit together. They whisper amongst themselves about escaping and how to do it but nothing clearly presents itself. They have to stop talking every once in a while as guards make their way near the tables. Bri looks over the large gathering hoping to see one of her friends.

Her glance passes many faces, stops, and backtracks to one in particular. Her mind and her eyes aren’t in agreement with what they see. Her mind tells her that what she sees is impossible. But there it is, right in front of her. Well, almost. Sitting four tables away, a very familiar length of blond hair hangs over a tired face with an almost lifeless expression; the hands appear to be just going through the motions of eating but Bri’s heart jumps at the sight.

Robert is engaged in a whispering conversation with Michelle. Bri elbows him and whispers briskly, “Robert! Robert!”

“In a minute, Bri,” he says turning back to Michelle.

“No, Robert. There’s Mom,” she says elbowing him once again.

“What?!” Robert says turning and looking to where Bri is nodding her head.

“Be careful you two,” Gonzalez says listening to their conversation and nodding towards the guards scattered around the room. “I am so happy for you two but be careful.”

Bri barely hears Gonzalez. “Mom!” She calls out loudly.

The woman looks up from her tray and searches about. Bri waves her good arm. The woman focuses on her and stares. Recognition flares in her eyes and her face lights up. The tiredness and long face vanishes as if it were never there. Tears form and run down her face in streams. The woman rises and begins to rush over. A guard grabs her shoulder and tells her something. She elbows the guard and continues her dash. Bri and Robert rise and they each hug their mom tightly as she arrives. The guards rush in their direction but stop when they see what is going on. They remain close but see it’s not someone trying to escape and leave them in peace.

Bri sobs in her mother’s arms and hears Robert crying as well. She feels, on her fine blond hair, the drip of her mother’s tears as they fall. She doesn’t ever want to let go. Her heart lightens to a considerable degree. She hadn’t even realized she was carrying so much anxiety and stress. Her heart feels so full that it may explode from joy and happiness. Her arm hurts from the pressure against it but she doesn’t care and continues to grip her mom.

“I was so worried I’d never see you again,” her mom says as they finally separate.

Gonzalez scoots over to make room and they sit. The guards, seeing all is well, leave to continue their watch over the tables.

“We thought you had turned into a night runner,” Robert says finally able to find his voice. He is still choked with emotion.

“A what?” Their mom asks.

They begin to tell their story, each breaking in to tell their version of a particular instance and events. They catch her up on the world in general and what they’ve been through. Their mom doesn’t have much to offer as her memory of the events of hasn’t returned. She is surprised to hear about the long time frame of her memory gap.

“So, your dad is still around, huh?” Their mom asks.

“Yeah. He is. Robert thinks he is nearby and will be here with the other soldiers soon,” Bri answers.

“Ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Corporal Gonzalez,” Gonzalez says introducing herself.

“Call me Julie,” she responds taking Gonzalez’ outstretched hand.

Julie looks around the table after their stories are finished. Bri knows exactly who she is looking for. Tears come to her eyes thinking both about Nic and how this will devastate their mom. She doesn’t want this happy moment to have unhappiness intrude but knows the next question.

“Mom,” Bri says sniffing, “There’s something…” She doesn’t finish as she feels Gonzalez touch her good arm.

“Julie, I have some news that Robert and Bri didn’t share with you. I hate to bring sorrow into this happy moment,” Gonzalez says staring into Julie’s eyes. Gonzalez sees Julie’s eyes tear up once again as she knows the words that will come next, “but, I don’t know how to say this, as if there’s really any way to say it.” Gonzalez sighs heavily. “Nicole died saving one of the soldiers.”

Julie stays silent a moment and then erupts in a keening wail that pierces the heart of everyone hearing. She grips her stomach and folds over crying so hard that she has a hard time catching her breath. Robert wraps his arms around her and Bri her good one as they join her; crying for the loss of Nic.