The Secret of Zormna Clendar - Julie Steimle (best autobiographies to read .txt) 📗

on a first-name basis with their abductees to keep them off balance,” she said, watching four other men follow the clipboard man inside the room. Two of the men were dressed the same as the one with the clipboard—white coats fitted over neat white collar shirts with ties and dark tailored pants. They pushed a medical cart into the room, one stacked with various handheld instruments and vials. These men looked equally the kind that lifted nothing heavier than an iPad. But the other two men that had come after them were enormous. Incredibly thickset in the muscle department, wearing dirty white zip-up uniforms and mean expressions, they didn’t look like they were there for anything except thug work.

Zormna peered beyond them at the door. It had a heavy, metallic sheen. In the center of the door, high, was a square double-layer wire reinforced window just big enough for a peek-in. There was no handle on her side and no keypad either.

A special prison?

The thuggish men remained between her and the door, as apparently it was the only way in or out. The thugs folded their meaty arms with deliberate frowns for Zormna to cower from.

Rolling her eyes, she looked again to the men in suits. They were the real threat.

The clipboard man smiled smugly at her with a perusing glance at the information he was holding. “Amusing. But really, we’re just here to help you.”

Her eyes narrowed on him specifically. “Kidnapping is not help. Kidnapping is a form of assault and is illegal.”

“So is coming into the country without proper passports and visas,” the man said. He wryly met her eyes. “Are we done with the games yet? I’m sure the McLenna family thought they were helping out a very convincing Irish girl—but forging documents is a felony.”

Zormna clenched her teeth.

“Now…” he said with a gesture to the other two men in lab coats. They were busy arranging the tools—specifically a bottle of clear liquid, heavily labeled, and a syringe. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

Zormna’s eyes flickered to the blinking red light on the side of a box in the corner of the room. A camera lens like a dark eye watched them. Then she looked to the window in the door.

Watched, no real exit except through the one door, and one source of light in the room. The vents above were small, and the ceiling was solid. No crawl space. Ok. She was officially trapped. One way out was almost no way out. She had to get the people on the outside to open the door, and that would take some work.

Trembling Zormna rose. Standing against the cold wall to keep as far from all the men as possible, she counted and calculated their strength in her head. None of them looked armed, which was a plus. But not much. Zormna slid to the side, preparing her exit strategy. But she as she slid sideways, the chill of cinderblock rubbed against her backside. Cold.

Blinking sharply, Zormna turned her eyes downward. It was green. And not the camo shades she was wearing yesterday. It stopped at the tops of her knees. And no pants.

“Where are my clothes?” she screamed, whipping her eyes back onto the clipboard carrying man.

“Now calm down.” The clipboard man reached toward her to hold her still. The other two in lab coats were lifting up a bottle, reading the label in whispers.

She slapped the clipboard man’s hands away. All reason left her as she jumped to the farthest end of the bed in fighting position. Zormna immediately set her hands to her neck, groping it.

Oh no. Zormna felt sick. It was gone.

 “YOU STOLE MY MEDALLION!” She screamed at the clipboard man. “GIVE IT BACK!”

Stepping back, the clipboard man flippantly penning something onto his sheet. “And what is so important about a silly necklace.”

“MY MOTHER GAVE IT TO ME!” Zormna stomped off the bed towards him—forget the plan. “GIVE IT BACK!”

The clipboard-toting man smirked with superior amusement, his eyes flickering to his fellows who were now nodding back to him that they were ready. “You are in no position to make demands, young lady. Now be a good little girl and cooperate, so we don’t have to use more forceful measures.”

“More forceful?” Zormna’s face went completely livid. “I’ll show you forceful!”

The clipboard man involuntary retreated.

But Zormna shoved past him, grabbing at the men with the syringe first. She kicked one of them in the stomach while flipping over the medical cart. The two enormous thugs rushed to stop her. But she knew how to handle three arrogant doctors and two meatheads, especially ones who were unarmed.

Zormna ducked down, tumbled under the thugs across the floor. They chased after her, hands out like toddlers saying ‘gimmie’, but the bumblers might as well have been chasing after a soap bubble. She slid out of their reach, dodged to the right toward the window, and knocked over the other doctor who had tried to get out of the way. The thugs lumbered around the doctors, ‘cornering’ her against the outside wall where she flattened herself. But really, they were such morons. They could not see the setup in front of them?

Grinning stupidly, the thugs charged.

Zormna leapfrogged over their heads, flipped with lots of air, and landed straight back on the bed. Their eyes had tracked her above in the same way a cat eyed an uncatchable penlight, stupor on their meaty faces. Then they became really reckless.

Blustering with roars, the orderlies dived after her. One tripped over the cart, trampling the contents in their fury—including one of the jars of drug. The other dived toward the bed, arms out to grab.

It was pathetic.

Zormna sprang up in time to push off the back of his head, flip over to the cone lamp, and hang on. She swung from it. One arm wrapped around the cord, she rammed a kick into one of the orderlies’ faces with the heel of her bare foot. Of course the lamp could not bear her weight. It snapped right out from the ceiling fixture, shooting sparks everywhere.

The room went dark. If it weren’t for the window, Zormna would not have been able to see where to aim when she dropped with her full weight on top of the other orderly, knocking him heavily to the floor. She had just enough light from the outside window to toss the lamp underneath the bed. The light bulb shattered when it hit the wall.

Then she braced for the next attack.

The doctors scrambled off the floor, ducking into to the corner and shoving the cart out of the way. The guard she had kicked in the face lurched up and grabbed Zormna around the waist. Good move for a strong man. Zormna thrashed in convincing distress, stomping hard on the man that was still below her for good measure.

The one below yowled. “Get her off of me first, stupid!”

As soon as the one guard attempted to lift her, Zormna elbowed her attacker in the nose and kicked the other one below her unconscious. Her attacker’s nose spurt blood. As he bled in shock, she tipped her weight to throw him off, tucking and diving backward. Still, he had not let go as she had expected. His weight dragged her over as well. And since she was unable to loosen his grip, Zormna rolled with the pull of gravity until they somersaulted twice to the wall. She popped onto her feet again, thrusting him with the same momentum against the cinderblock.

His breath gushed out this time. His eyes bulged piteously.

She rammed him again between his neck and shoulder blades to make sure he could not get in another breath. He heaved in as much air as he could manage, groping for his throat.

The second he let go, Zormna scrambled out of his reach to the other side of the room. The man collapsed to the floor. Both behemoths were down and out.

Zormna turned her eyes onto the three doctors.

In the dark, they watched her advance, terror-filled and trembling. The light from the window illuminated her pale skin as her breath heaved within her chest. Zormna’s green eyes shone with a curl on her lips.

But she did not go after them.

Instead, she stooped over the remains of the cart, picking up the prepared syringe.

“No!” The clipboard doctor jumped, grasping for it. But Zormna shoved him off—like a crash dummy.

“Drug use is bad,” Zormna said with a growl. “As is kidnapping.”

The clipboard doctor jumped back at her. “Give that ba—”

She ripped out the stopper in the end and dumped the wet contents onto the floor. Zormna shook her head at him. “No. Involuntary, intravenous drug use is doubly bad.”

He clawed for the needle end. Rolling her eyes at the man, Zormna dropped down and swiped the clipboard man’s legs out from under him with her leg. He crashed hard.

Hopping back to the wall, Zormna jammed the needle end into the cinderblock. The metal snapped. And the plastic tube warped into a bent useless nothing.

The three doctors groaned, so disappointed.

Two more groans joined them. The hulking orderlies pushed off the ground for round two. Her eyes had already turned towards them, though Zormna also glanced behind herself to the door where she had thought she had heard a creaking noise.

Immediately a gargantuan man seized her around the torso, heaving her straight off her feet. Two more men were with him. The door behind them was open.

This was it—only this one man did know how to hold her.

Thrashing, kicking, and screaming, Zormna attempted to fight them off, but she might as well have done a dance for all the good it did. This man knew how to wrangle a human being. They clamped upon her extremities and hauled her from the door back to the bed. Zormna kicked towards the jaw and the groin, but did not reach. Apparently those kidnappers had saved the experts for last. Zormna felt like spitting out curses.

One of the skilled behemoths took out a pair of handcuffs.

The three doctors huddled together, righting the medical cart and gathering their tools in whispers. They peeked back at her as they picked up the largest glass chunks from bottle, murmuring over the spilled drug. And though she was satisfied to see their distress, Zormna realized that this was not the end of their schemes. Next time, she knew they would not treat her so dismissively again.

Zormna kicked out the moment she managed to get a foot loose. It made contact with the eye of one of them. But she was unable to break entirely free. Straight away, those giants grabbed free her leg, securing it.

The doctor with the clipboard muttered with a shake of his head, walking back towards the door.   

“Secure her to the bed. We won’t be able to do this right now,” he said to the three before going out. His eyes scraped over her severely.

“You stinking cockroach!” Zormna thrashed harder, trying to get something loose. That door would close and her only escape would be gone. “You cannot keep me here!”

The three thugs forced her down, proving those words entirely wrong. One latched a handcuff around her wrist, hooking it around the metal bar at the head of the bed while the other two thugs retreated with bruised egos and bodies. They shot her foul looks. But the more skilled thugs locked her other wrist into the second cuff, clamping around her straining fist as tight as they could go.

They rose, straightening to their intimidating heights and breadths. They gave Zormna the impression of gorillas and elephants mixed together. They were probably bred for the job. One had the gall to smirk at her, whispering to his pal who chuckled.

“Let’s see you get out of that!” one of the men said, his feet crunching over the broken glass to the exit.

The door shut heavily behind him. The bolt on the other side secured with a weighty click.

“Let’s see you get