Chapter 4

It took Chase several minutes to realize she was lying on the floor sobbing. No, not on the ground, in someone’s arms. She couldn’t tell whose. She didn’t care right. She didn’t think she would ever care. She felt someone stoking her hair, whispering kind, gentle things. Does she dare risk opening her eyes? She considered it, and then she saw an image of her friends, lying on the ground, shot an unnecessary amount to kill them, their screams… Fresh sobs racked her body, and she buried her face in the person’s arms. It didn’t take long to figure out that Glue was holding her. She, eventually, let the memory go, and pulled away gently from Glue, leaning against the wall, wiping her face and breathing deeply, shakily. It was silent between the two for a few minutes.

Glue sucked in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered, not looking at her. Chase simply shook her head, still close to tears. “You didn’t see what I saw Glue. You don’t know.” Glue shook his head.

“No, you’re right, I didn’t see. But you said what you saw. You described it in detail.” Glue was ashen.  “It was awful what the MIGs did.”

Chase cocked her head to one side. “MIGs?” She seemed to have recovered.

         Glue smiled slightly, as if amused by her…unknowingness. “’MIGs’ stands for Men In Grey. The soldiers wear grey to match the color of the dead city.” His voice seemed full of contempt.

“Oh.” Silence fell.  Eventually, Chase drew her knees to her chest. “Why did you call me a coward?” Chase whispered; her voice was on the verge of tears. 

Glue didn’t respond; he looked very guilty. “When they took you, they kept you in a room. You were kept there for three days. Then MIGs came in and gave you a choice: to be conscious while you died, and to be unconscious. You must have chosen unconscious, which is the coward’s way out.”

“Do you still think I’m a coward?” A smile was playing on Chase’s lips. Glue grinned back.

“If you can knock me down, you’re no coward.” Glue stood up, and offered a hand to Chase. She took it, and he pulled her up.

“How did you know what they did to me?” Chase asked, her mind wandering. Glues face lit up, and anger seemed to ebb from him.

Intelligently, Chase shied away from him. If she hadn’t, she’d have taken the punch instead of the wall. “DON’T YOU ASK ABOUT HIM ALRIGHT?!” Glue roared, and then stormed off in the opposite direction. Rather than risk it, she fled from him towards Sara and Clara, wondering how to explain the giant whole in the wall.

 

 

 

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          When Chase reentered the other room, she saw Sara and Clara making dinner. Chase looked around a little bit. The room was small, about the size of guest bedroom. Towards the back were several cots. Blankets were stored on top. Towards the other corner was a dresser, with five or so drawers. In the middle of the room was a picnic table. The lower left-hand corner was devoted as a kitchen. It had a stove, two counters, a mini fridge, and a cabinet.

          “Oh Chase!” Cried Clara, glancing up from the stove. “Are you okay sweetie?”

          Chase grinned at her, and told them what happened. “And then he punched a hole in the wall.” She finished, carefully watching the girls reactions. Sara rolled her eyes and Clara groaned. “Again? I swear, when this is over with, I am going to force him to take anger management classes.” Shaking her head, Clara walked away from the stove towards the lower right corner. It had lots of tools and house supplies piled up on one another.

“Sara sweetie? Would you mind fixing the wall?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “I did it last time though!”

          “I know, but I’m making the pasta.”

          “And I’m cutting the vegetables!”

          “Chase can do that.”

Sara groaned, but grabbed the plaster and the smearing tool. “This is SO not fair.” Chase heard her mumble beneath her breath.

          Smiling, Chase turned towards the veggies and started cutting. It was hard work though. There was no light in the room, except from a single bulb in the middle of the room. There were no windows.

          After she finished, Chase went towards the little picnic table. Tracing a finger along the grooves of the ancient table, she asked Clara, “Why did he freak out?” Chase said it softly, not looking up, her long hair curtaining her face.

          Clara was quiet for several minutes, before abandoning the pasta and sitting at the table. She seemed to be staring at the wall, but her eyes were far away.  “About 2 months ago, living here was me, Sara, Glue, Demetrius and Mini. Mini was a malamute. Dr. Crepe was a mystery to us, but we knew he had to be stopped. Dem offered to infiltrate the base with a camera, and then escape so we can vote on the next step. He went in. He never came out. About a week later, Glue found the camera. We saw everything they do to you. It was terrible.” Clara shuddered slightly.

          Chase racked her brain for something to say. “What happened to Mini?” She whispered. Clara could tell she really just needed something to say.

          “Shot by MIGs. She is still alive, but sleeps in Glue’s room and never leaves. Mini is to hurt to move around yet. Soon, if she lives.” Clara got up and stirred the pasta. Sara came back and grumbled, “If he breaks another thing, I’m gonna plaster his mouth shut!”

          Chase grinned. “ How will that stop him from breaking things?”

          “Because it… Because he won’t… shut up Chase.”

Chase started to laugh. It was quiet at first, but soon it grew loud, and she fell of the bench. She was almost hysterical. Sara giggled when Chase fell off the bench. Then she started to chuckle, which turned to hysterical laughter. She tried to help chase up, but she was still laughing, and tripped over the plaster shovel, and landed right next to Chase. The girls laughed harder. Clara smiled at the two girls, who, for once, were able to forget about evil Doctors, murderous generals, and hiding to just laugh.