The Exile: Episode Five

I awoke to a bright light shining in my eyes and my hands bound. From what I could see as I looked around me, the room was solid steel, empty except for the chair someone had tied me to.
“What do you want?” a deep, cold voice demanded of me.
“I’m sorry?” I answered in my confusion. The tremor in my voice frightened me.
A man stepped forward out of the dark and struck me across the jaw.
“What do you want?” he yelled again.
“Who is he? Why am I here?” I thought.
“I don’t want anything, just to go home,” I said.
“There is no home,” he barked at me. “You can’t go back home anymore.”
“Why are you holding me here? I haven’t done anything wrong,” I answered.
“Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong?” he yelled, pacing back and forth. He rushed toward me, grabbed my hair, and pulled my head back, twisting it to one side. The back of my tongue burned, and I felt nauseous.
“Do you call this nothing?” he roared at me, jamming a handful of photographs in my face.
I tried to focus on the pictures, but all I could see was the name Owens scribbled across one of the corners.
“I don’t know what you mean. I don’t understand,” I tried to explain.
He released my hair and stepped back.
“I don’t have time for games, Mr. . . .,” his voice trailed off. “What name do you go by now anyway?”
I was about to answer when gunfire erupted outside.
“Keep an eye on him,” he ordered someone in the dark. “I’ll be right back.”
I heard his footsteps as he walked away. A door opened across the room and what sounded like two people entered. Outside the gunfire grew louder, and people were yelling between the rounds.
“Quick! Get him out of here,” the man yelled from outside the room.
Rough hands blindfolded me, and I felt a strong arm on either side lift me and throw me from the chair. As they dragged me across the floor, down what seemed like a long hallway, I tried to figure the direction we were moving in case I had to double back.
“Freeze!” someone shouted. The arms released me and my head hit the floor.
As I lay bound and blindfolded, listening and considering what to do next, the gunfire outside stopped. The ropes around my wrists held tight, but I managed to struggle to my feet.
Suddenly I heard quick steps approaching from behind, and a hard hit on the back of my head put me out.
I woke up startled. The last thing I remembered was being whacked on the back of the head. As I rubbed the lump, I looked around at my surroundings. The lighting wasn’t that good, but I guessed I must be in an old warehouse, judging from the structure of the place. When I looked out one of the small windows at the top of the walls, I saw that it was nighttime.
I spotted a door at the far end of the building, but when I slowly rose to my feet, I felt lightheaded, probably from the blow to my head. Bracing myself against the wall, I stood still for a moment hoping the dizziness would soon pass.
As I staggered to the door, working my way around the walls for support, I tried to focus on what had happened, not on where I was. I noticed piles of something strewn here and there across the floor, but the bad lighting made it impossible to identify what they were. I carefully stepped over each one in my path.
When I reached the door, I fought to open it, but it was locked tight. I noticed a light switch just to the right of the door, so I flipped the switch and the warehouse lights came on. Taking three steps away from the door, I froze when I saw that the piles were stacks of dead bodies.

Published in: on March 14, 2010 at 7:06 pm  Leave a Comment  

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