Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 by Gandy, A. (animal farm read .TXT) 📗

the rocky outcropping behind our cottage. Patrick quickly hops off the ATV, rifle in hand, and scales the rocks. He disappears from sight for a moment before he returns without the rifle. Wordlessly, he climbs in front of me, and we head straight to the back entrance of the guest house. At some point while we were in the secret medical facility, the loud booms had stopped. Atlas dismounts and helps Nell off, and Patrick does the same before extending me his hand. I take it, fingers numb. Whether from the cold or shock, I can’t tell.

On wooden legs, I climb the boardwalk steps after Nell, and follow her into the guest house. There’s a hum of voices, but they wash over me, incomprehensible.

“Sadie, are you all right? Sadie?” Patrick’s worried voice snaps me out of it. I look up from the floor, and lock eyes with his deep blue ones.

“No, I’m not. I may never be all right again.” My voice sounds far away to my own ears.

“Sadie, I think you’re in shock.” He is holding me by both shoulders and gives me a small shake.

“I’ve got her, go get a cup of hot tea,” Nell instructs him. She takes my hand and rubs my arm soothingly. “Come on, we’re going to go sit over here.”

She leads me to a blue striped couch, and I sit next to her. I try to focus on what’s going on around me, but it’s hard. My brain feels like it’s stuck in a loop. I feel exhausted, even though it’s probably barely past lunch time.

Patrick returns, and presses a mug of steaming tea into my hands. The warmth feels good against my chilled palms, so I take a sip. He stays there, crouched in front of me, until the mug is empty. At some point, the fog starts to clear. My gaze strays from my knees to Patrick’s face, etched with concern.

“Hey there,” he says soothingly. “Are you feeling a bit better? You had me worried.” He touches my cheek, the brush soft and careful. I lean into his palm and close my eyes for a second. The vision of sedated women in white comes rushing back, and I snap them back open and lurch upright.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re fine, we’re fine.” His voice is low, like he’s talking to a spooked horse, and his hands are gentle on my forearms. “Nell, I’m going to go talk to the director about a new room. I'm not taking her back to that cottage. Will you stay with her until I get back?” Nell nods, and slips her arm around my shoulders after I settle back against the couch.

I lean into her, grateful for her support. Glancing over, I see that she’s calm and collected, despite her initial reaction to the sight of the drugged women.

“How are you okay right now?” I ask, words barely above a whisper.

One side of her mouth quirks up in a sarcastic half-smile. “Believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve hidden in a bathtub in fear for my life. My uncle is a mean drunk.” She shrugs. “You adapt, or you die.”

Her words slowly sink in, and the puzzle pieces fit themselves together in my head. Nell, scrawny, barely sixteen with nothing but a backpack at the shuttle station in Georada, and no family to see her off. Nell, flinching away from all human contact. Nell, unhappy to be matched with Atlas, a mountain of muscle. She was running.

“Does Atlas know?” I can’t imagine him being happy that his wife has an abusive scumbag for a relative waiting back home.

A single, tight nod is her only response. We sit in silence until Patrick returns with a large, antique room key. He extends his hand for mine. “Come on, Sadie. They’re putting us up in the guest house for a while.”

I take his hand and stand, but turn back to Nell. “Thank you, Nell.”

She smiles at me fondly. “No problem. Get some rest.”

✽✽✽

The next morning, I’m tired from a restless night’s sleep, but feeling myself again otherwise. Patrick and I spent the rest of the day yesterday locked away in our new room. It’s smaller than our cottage, but it has a balcony that looks over the dunes to the ocean. Each time I’d woken in the night with nightmares, he held me until I fell back asleep.

We make our way down for breakfast, and the ubiquitous pink-shirted waiter brings by a basket of pastries. I choose a cheese Danish, but only pick at it. My appetite hasn’t been great. It doesn’t feel right to be sitting around in a luxurious beach house, eating extravagant food while at least a dozen women are drugged and helpless a few miles away.

Before our breakfast arrives, Emmett and Carolina join us at our table.

“Good morning,” Patrick greets them.

“Morning,” Emmett says. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. After they’ve each selected a pastry, they clasp hands and look back at us. “We’re leaving. We’ve put in a transfer request, and given the circumstances, they’re letting us go today.” The announcement is abrupt, but I’m not surprised.

“Where are you headed?” I ask.

“Playa Reino. We thought some distance and some sunshine would be a good change. I know you guys just got here, but I think they’d let you switch locations early given yesterday’s—” Carolina’s forehead wrinkles. “—events.”

Emmett shakes his head angrily. “How they expect to keep us in the dark when our safety is at stake, I’ll never understand.”

My eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“They won’t tell us what the attack was about. Only that it was a group of extremists. Who is out there attacking honeymoon resorts? We deserve to know!” His fist slams the table, and I jump at the bang, still apprehensive after the latest attack.

Carolina puts her hand over his fist in a calming gesture. “Settle down, Emmett. We’re leaving, that’s all we can do.”

Patrick’s face is grim. “It was a kidnapping attempt,” he announces, and Carolina’s