Chapter 10—Possible Cure
“You’re sure this Markus Bell was splashed?” Arthur asked Lydia.
It was well into the evening. They were standing outside the plane, but Lydia felt totally disoriented. Arthur had mentioned they were in Nebraska. To her, it could’ve been any airfield illuminated by scattered lights.
The plane had been swept for any other tracking devices. Dilbert had also been searched and had headed into the small terminal for a bite to eat. He’d helped Lydia and Arthur load her suitcases and camera bag into the forest-green van that waited for them. Two people had delivered the van and were now carrying out the search for any other tracking devices.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Lydia said. Her pain was flaring up again. “He caused the accident and got some stuff on him. Didn’t even bother to help me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Arthur asked, frustrated at the change in events.
“When was I supposed to tell you? Before or after you took me away from my home?” she snapped.
Arthur ran his hands through his hair, releasing a few strands of gray. He gazed at the cloudy sky. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Get in the car.”
Lydia stood there, glaring at him. She considered running. For all she knew, this “Cave” might not exist, and he could be outright lying about a cure for her. She weighed her options. He wasn’t impeding her way now; he was near the driver’s door and she was on the other side near the trunk. Lydia thought she could try to make it to the terminal, claim she was kidnapped. It might buy her enough time, and then she could find a ticket home somehow. That would give her, what? A week or so for her to find a hiding place? She could gather some of her belongings in addition to the ones already packed. She might even tell her parents where she was going if she was in a forgiving and generous mood. But she doubted she would be.
“Lydia?”
Now or never, she thought. It was a weak plan, but at that juncture, anything looked better. As soon as Arthur started to say, “Don’t you da—,” she was off. Her run was slower than normal and she allowed her good arm to help propel her forward. Her bandaged arm jostled harshly, but she concentrated on getting to the terminal and then away. Arthur was moving fast to cut her off, so she turned, hoping to lose him across the runway. Maybe she could hide in the hangars on the other side.
After a few seconds, she was aware of two distinct sounds: heavy footsteps moving faster than hers across the wet asphalt, and the engines of a plane preparing to take off. The plane was a dark mass ahead and to her right.
The footsteps got closer. She glanced over her shoulder and was shocked to see Arthur catching up. His face was determined and his arms robotic in their stiff quick pumping motion.
“Get away!” Lydia screamed. “Leave me alone!” She knew she shouldn’t waste her breath like that, but at least her outburst got her anger and frustration off her chest. However, she realized too late that the distance she had to travel was longer than she’d estimated. The plane was closing in too fast. The run had taken its toll on her bad arm and she was cradling it close to her bosom, fearful of any further damage. The plane was rolling closer. Lydia briefly considered the consequences if she didn’t make it. The whole sordid affair she’d been roped into with the terrorists and government would be done. However, Lydia refused to accept that it was as the only way out. Have to keep going.
She searched deep inside, dredging up what little energy she had left to keep running. Yet Lydia knew she wouldn’t make it past the plane. Have to try. Have to try. She repeated the mantra nonstop as her path began to collide with the aircraft’s. The pilot must not have seen her or couldn’t stop. Either way, she didn’t care.
Just stop. The plane’s engines’ roar pierced her eardrums. Keep going. Her thighs burned. Why? You’ll never make it. The wheels were lifting off the ground. I can make it. She was slowing down. You won’t. The plane’s nose loomed large overhead. I will. The aircraft was upon her.
She was yanked back by a pair of large hands grabbing her shirt. Arthur pulled her out of the way right as the plane zoomed by. The pair fell to the ground and Lydia watched the plane lift off and disappear into the sky.
“What did you think you were doing?!” Arthur demanded from her. “You could’ve been killed!”
“I would’ve made it! Lydia said, struggling with him. She could only crawl away, trying to catch her breath. “Even if I didn’t, I’m already dead! Terrorists are after me. For all I know, you could be one of them. You could’ve been lying about everything. Maybe that nurse wanted to help me, or rescue me.”
“She didn’t. Trust me.” Lydia growled at that, but he continued. “I’m not the bad guy here.”
“No,” Lydia said sarcastically. “You only want to keep me in a cave until you deem I can leave, probably running all sorts of experiments on me.”
“To help you,” Arthur clarified.
“Again says the guy who took me away from home with hardly a good-bye,” she said, baring her teeth at him. “I’m not going with you.”
Arthur stood and crossed his arms. Lydia could only guess he was using his imposing frame to intimidate her. If she wasn’t so tired, she might have cowered under his stern look. “I already said you don’t have a choice in the matter.”
That only fueled another attempt to escape. She was sick of Arthur. When she pushed past him, he grabbed her arm. She fought him, yanking him around effortlessly. He grabbed her once more and she stomped on his foot. He gritted his teeth.
“We can cure you, remember?” he said.
Lydia stopped squirming. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“You don’t,” he said, staring her straight in the eye. “We try to find a remedy for every person who comes in. Either they return to normal and leave. At the very least they are trained to function normally with their present abilities.”
She raised her eyebrows, daring to entertain honesty in him. “Really?” she asked. “You can really cure me?”
“Yes. I want to help you. We’ll do the best we can to find a solution for you, but you have to stop fighting me, okay?”
There was more to it. Of that, Lydia was sure. Was he lying? But what if it was the truth? A way to rid herself of the ungainly muscles? Was it possible? Lydia sighed. She was too worn out to fight anymore. Though skeptical, a part of her wanted to believe she could return to normal.
She nodded. Arthur offered his hand, a sort of friendly gesture, but she smacked it away. She walked several feet, stumbling a little and fell against Arthur once. Lydia pushed away from him, her eyes watching the ground, and walked back to the car. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake by choosing to go along with him for now.