Chapter 12

My bloodshot amber eyes stared back at me in the mirror, dark circles pooled beneath them like ashen sediment. I was certain I looked at least five years older than I did only a few days before. Several strands of my black hair were matted with dried blood and hung like dreadlocks around my face.

I desperately needed a shower and fresh clothes. For a split second I compared this facility to a concentration camp, but then decided that I shouldn’t allow myself that much pity.

Knocking lightly on my cell door, I hoped to get the attention of the guards. After twenty minutes, however, I realized that either no one was out there or they were ignoring me.

Huddling in the center of my bloodstained white cot, I hugged my knees and tried to imagine myself somewhere else.

Anywhere but here.

Exhausted, even my imagination was too tired to cooperate.

Lying down on the pillow with the hum of the fluorescent lights above me, I succumbed to sleep.

The dream began instantly, only this time…I was being hunted.

***

The blistering sun was settling behind a sharp cliff to the west. With each step I took, hot sand pressed into the base of my bare feet and forced its way between my toes.

Licking my lips, I felt the grooves where the skin had split apart. Tiny grains of sand had nestled themselves behind my eyelids, every blink initiated a scraping sensation against my sensitive eyeballs.

The hot dry air filled my lungs with parched oxygen as I moved forward into the unfriendly desert. Ahead of me was a vast, bronze landscape sparsely littered with indestructible cacti and orphaned boulders.

With darkness settling over the land, the shadows began to own the night.

Mournful howls wailed in the distance as though announcing the end of the day and trumpeting the arrival of the evening. A light wind snaked over the contours of the land, quickly cooling the air around me. In a short time, I went from sweating profusely to shivering as the night air clung to my damp clothing.

Paranoid, my eyes scanned for movement behind every rock and brush. I knew they were out there, somewhere, lurking in shadows, searching for me. Like vampires lusting for my blood, the men in black stalked me, craved me…hated me.

The cave.

I had to find the cave.

This time, it was for refuge as much as it was for unveiling its secrets. Wrapping my arms around myself, I forced my tired legs forward. Shuffling through the cooling sand, I winced as I wondered if this was the step that would settle on a wayward scorpion. The laughter of coyotes assaulted my ears as I sensed them closing in on me.

A soft, warm light in the distance sent a rush of relief throughout my body. I picked up the pace as I recognized the mouth of the cave.

The glow within the cave soothed my aching soul. Flickers of light danced upon the walls like a midnight waltz, tenderly coaxing me in to rest my weary head. Holding myself up with the jagged surface of the cavern wall, I walked carefully over the rocky floor.

The wind whistled a haunting tune that echoed throughout the labyrinth of the cave. A large fire had been made by unknown hands; I seated myself in front of it and warmed my chilled body. Searching the walls with weary eyes, I noted the familiar number painted upon the walls.

II.

Always the Roman numeral two.

As I sat before the blaze, a sensation of being watched suddenly pervaded me. Glancing slowly around, I saw nothing, but still, the paranoia persisted.

Shivering and hugging myself, I waited for the unknown. I somehow knew it was only a matter of time before they found me.

It was then that I saw the figure.

Large and distinctly male, it made its way from the shadows towards me. Nearing the illumination of the fire, I strained to see his face. My heart pounded as I wondered if he were the enemy, one of the dark men who wanted me caged.

His hands outstretched, he reached as though to grab me!

Leaning from his grasp, it was then that the attack came from behind! Hard and forceful arms embraced me in a death grip and pulled me away from the man.

Looking back at the dark figure and his gentle arms outstretched for me, I realized—he cared for me.

Who was he?

Struggling within my dream, my consciousness flooded back to reality. Confused, I continued to fend off strong arms holding me down. Prying my tired eyes open, I realized that the dream—the nightmare—wasn’t over.

Holding my wrists with a crushing force and sitting atop my torso was a new enemy.

Agent Meyers.