Ten: To Cross a New Border

Ten: To Cross a New Border

A Chapter by Faria C

 § To Cross a New Border §

 

It had been about a week since I’d left the laboratory testing war weapons on me. My new captors had informed me that I was better off here anyway, since more doses of those fluids in my veins might have killed me painfully, as was the goal of the scientists assigned the task of inventing painful methods of death for “the enemy.”

 

            “Here,” meant Transylvania. The most dreadful of all places to humans�"unless those vampires had been telling the truth about Dr. Crazy really attempting to kill me.

 

            Every morning, I’d wake up at six, and haul bricks and cement outside with only the worn clothes on my back. I’d pass it to a person in the long line, and they’d pass it on until it reached the last person, usually a muscular young man who would put it on the wall that would soon become the Transylvanian Wall. It was being designed to keep out invaders (humans) and keep in prisoners: us (humans). We were told how much lugging and transporting we were supposed to do. If any failed to his assigned quota, he’d have to go back out in the next shift and stay out until that ended. My shift was from 6:00am to noon. Some were longer, so I supposed I should consider myself lucky. I was told by …inmates (?) that I also got better food than other-shift prisoners due to my “youth.” And all I had to eat were two meals a day, consisting of suspicious-looking murky “soup” with a really stale piece of bread that looked like it had gone bad years ago.

 

            Rumours were circulating about some kind of coded letters put in through the bricks in the wall. Apparently, if a person took every third letter and rearranged them backwards, it gave instructions of how to escape. Apparently, the three prisoners who’d inserted them had already escaped�"but it could be a setup by the vampires to see who the rebellious were. So I paid it no heed, period.

 

            It was past midnight, and all I could think about was where and how Addie was, if she was. Hoped she was faring better than me. Then there were my parents. Every night I’d fall asleep fretting over them or Addie, and sometimes I thought of Khaled, Andrew, Bevin, and Kate.

 

            I wondered if Kate was using her athletic abilities to her advantage. If Khaled was getting to do what he’d set out to accomplish. What Andrew and Bevin were doing.

 

            Where my parents were.

 

            I wonder where that vampire soldier, Linden, is…Would he help me now for dressing his wounds that one night? Then again, that whole incident was kinda my fault to start with…

 

            Where’d that come from? I asked myself; it was the last thought I had before falling into a disturbed sleep.

 

            In all my nightmares these nights, I always saw my parents. They’d be in some kind of danger that I’d be unable to save them from. Sometimes, Addie would be there, telling me to turn back, or in some sort of trouble herself. Dr. Creepy would be giving me his sinister grin, blabbing German.

 

            I’d wake up with a start, from the air horn honked by one of the prison-keepers shouting at us to get out of our bunk-beds.

 

            This particular morning, I woke up beforehand and got up and headed to an outhouse�"what advanced form of indoor plumbing, indeed. There were no means to brush teeth/hair, soap, or deodorant�"only super-cold showers�"which we avoided if we could help it in the freezing temperatures�"and washroom business. At least there was toilet paper (?).

 

            On the way back, I accidentally walked into the kitchen where elderly humans were slaving away. I supposed everyone would be made to do something here, and there were numerous downsides to every task; how early had they gotten up to be cooking already?

 

            “Sorry,” I muttered, turning away.

 

            “That’s quite alright, dear,” an elderly woman replied. “Are you lost?”

 

            I spun around, told her I was.

 

            “What’s your bunk number?” she asked me, as half of the rest of the kitchen staff watched.

 

            “Um…125…?”

 

            “Then go down this way, and turn right.”

 

            “Thanks,” I replied.

 

            I felt guilty for lying to her, but I really was grateful. I hadn’t heard such a kind voice in centuries. Although I wasn’t sure of my bunk number, I did know my way back; I’d had to go back after my shift every day for a week now. And the grandmotherly lady had seemed genuinely happy to be of some help to a fellow mortal. I wondered if I should’ve asked her what she was forced to put into the “soup” we were fed, or if I was better off not knowing.

 

            While I was thinking about the start of the morning, I accidentally tuned the corner after my cell, thinking I hadn’t passed it yet�"and walked in on a group of vampire doctors.

 

            One of them in particular seemed to be shocked to see me, and I could’ve sworn she’d almost mouthed my name. Eileen

 

            I’m dead.

 

            No excuses for entering a chamber for vampires only�"even if there was no sign indicating it. There were no oopsies here; this was it. After all I’d conquered…this was how it would end for me.

 

            The woman who’d shown the most shock at having seen me uttered a few words to her colleagues and slowly made her way to where I stood in frozen fear.

 

            “Follow me,” she whispered to me when the rest had gone back to what they’d been doing.

 

            Like I had a choice.

 

            She led me into a room full of people with walking sticks, canes, wheelchairs, and the like. She told me it was for the “physically handicapped people,” and I wondered why she hadn’t said “humans” or “them” or “your kind”�"something along the lines. Next came another vampire, beside her in a flash�"super-speed and all.

 

            “Eileen,” he spoke, making dread shake me; they knew my name.

 

            “Don’t be scared, sweetie,” the woman said. “Don’t you remember us?”

 

            Should I? I wondered. Is this a trap? How the heck am I supposed to “remember” a pair of freaking vampires? Were they in one of the clans that captured me…?

 

            I looked up�"big mistake. Four red eyes stared back at me.

 

            “Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” she hinted.

 

            “Pardon?” I asked, confused as well as frightened now.

 

            “Lexi Miller’s parents?”

 

            “Lexi Miller? You mean, that girl from Westernlane Canada High?” I asked, shocked.

 

            Westernlane Canada High had been my first high school, before it had gotten attacked and raided by a vampire army.

 

            “No, from your elementary school,” Mr. Miller corrected. “Douglas Hart Elementary.”

 

            “But before that,” his wife elaborated. “Your parents and we used to be friends, since our high school years. And, you used to come over and play with our Lexi, remember?”

 

            Damn; I hated stuck-up teenagers who dumped their less-popular friends after climbing up the social ladder of high school. I never would’ve imagined myself to be one of them. I did in fact remember Lexi. And I couldn’t remember why or when I’d stopped hanging with her.

 

            “Then your family moved away to Calgary,” Mr. Miller added.

 

            “To Calgary? That was like, way back in third grade.”

 

            “Right. Now listen, Eileen. We took out a vampire and used his blood to change ourselves,” Mrs. Miller confided. “We can help humankind from the inside this way. So we’re going to get you to another camp where you don’t have to do any work.”

 

            What am I hearing?

 

            “But we can only do that if you can get out of there as soon as you can�"like, in a week or less.”

 

            “Why?”

 

            “It’s a camp for the physically and mentally disabled; that’s why they don’t have to do forced labour. But that’s also the reason the vampires are going to…eliminate…the people there.”

 

            “But it’s really easy to escape once you’ve crossed the border of the camp; there’s a liberated town called St. Cher right next to it,” the man added.

 

            “You have to promise us you’ll get out as soon as possible, in five days if you can,” Lexi’s mom bargained. “Then we’ll get you there.”

 

            “Um, is Lexi also…?”

 

            “No,” Mr. Miller answered quietly. “Lexi’s no longer on this God-forsaken planet.”

 

            She’s…dead? Is that why her parents feel obligated to help me?

 

            “So…?” Mrs. Miller trailed off.

 

            “Send me there. I’ll escape it, I promise.”

 



© 2013 Faria C


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Added on January 14, 2013
Last Updated on January 14, 2013


Author

Faria C
Faria C

Wouldn't you like to know , Canada



About
When someone asks me to tell them about myself, I panic and have a little identity crisis where I wonder, "Oh God, who am I?!" Bruh, don't do that to me. Well, I'm Faria (which rhymes with "area").. more..

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