#wyoa

[whumpadoodle]

So here’s the thing.

This has been the craziest year at work (because of the fallout of the pandemic and its impact on education). And I mean the craziest. This is the busiest I have **ever** been in May. If I were having a pity party, I would probably tell you that I’m exhausted and drained and over it.

The point of this is to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about wyoa. There will be more once my cognitive load eases. Until then, here are some of my favorite bits so far.

______________

Max didn’t respond. Wordlessly, he walked past me, only the slightest stiffness in his movements remaining. He kept his back to me, facing the kitchen counter. “Oh, Quinn. So trusting.”

~~

“She is alive. And if you would like her to stay that way, you will place your weapons on the floor.”

~~

“Quinn.” His voice was alarmingly weaker now, trailing off into a rasping exhale that was followed by an effortful inhale. His hand reached toward my face, then fell away. A faint smile flickered across his mouth, and he coughed, trying to fill his lungs with air. Then his eyes, still fixed on mine, closed.

Panic filled my chest and spilled into my voice. “Joseph? Joseph! No, no, no, Joseph!”

~~

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to console him, to assure him that I did not hold him responsible, to ease his guilt. But no words would come. I didn’t think there was anything I could say that would make him believe me right now. Instead, I squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“But we’re safe,” I whispered. “Both of us. We survived our mistakes.” Barely, but we had.

~~

I took a faltering step forward, dismayed and fearful. They had said he was fine. Every doctor we had spoken with assured us that Joseph would make a full recovery. But this—Joseph limp, unconscious, breathing with a mask—this was not fine. I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but stare at my cousin.

~~

But even with my eyes squeezed shut, I could not rid my mind of the image of my kitchen knife laying on my lap, still covered with Joseph’s dried blood, the reddish brown color stark against the white cloth.

I focused all my energy on keeping my stomach from revolting again, trying every calming strategy or breathing technique that I could think of. Eventually, I regained enough control to lift my head up without a repeat performance. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. If I could just concentrate on inhaling and exhaling, then I might be able to stand, which seemed like a monumental task at the moment. I rubbed at my face, pushing the palms of my hands hard against my cheeks and eyes. I latched onto the feeling of blood rushing to the skin there and clung to it.

~~

“Lucas,” I said, more sharply than I intended, “sit down.”

He looked confused, but obeyed. He sank back into the chair and stared around the room with a dazed expression. At that moment, I wasn’t sure he even knew where he was. His eyes were heavy, and his pupils kept losing focus and darting around the room before coming to rest again. As much as he should have been in his own bed, I couldn’t let him drive. Instead, I found one of the blankets and the pillow that the nurses had given me for my vigil the night before.

~~

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” The tears started up again, leaking from the corners of my eyes. I pulled my hand back and curled in on myself, trying to hide from the grief and guilt.

A warm hand settled on my back, and another gently grasped my chin and tilted my head up. I looked into Lucas’ eyes, startled to find them so intense. His thumb gently brushed a tear from my cheek.

“No,” he said softly, firmly. “It’s not.”

~~

I looked at the stained carpet, then over at the mattress. Both looked disgusting, but at least the mattress would be soft. I hoped. I leaned against the wall, pressing hard as I slid up, coming unsteadily to my feet. The room spun around me, and I remained where I was until it slowed to a gentle roll. Then I inhaled deeply and left the safety of the wall. I took a step toward the mattress. Then another. And another. The room, so small before, now seemed impossibly huge. I had crossed a little more than half the distance when the ground suddenly rushed towards me and I fell into darkness.

~~

The voices and footsteps drew nearer, then faded away. I could not make out a single word they had spoken. He had been right there, so close, just on the other side of the door, and now he was gone. My throat ached with emotion, and my chest felt hollow. My chance to leave this place had walked right past me. Why was he here?

~~

Vlad grabbed for me. I swiped at him with the glass, slicing a bloody gash down his forearm. He howled and lunged, but I just managed to duck away, stumbling on the uneven surface of the mattress. I teetered, then fell, crashing to the ground. Instantly, Vlad was there, standing over me and reaching down with both hands. He gripped my arms and yanked me upright, dragging my body so close to his I could feel the heat of his skin.

“I will slit your throat. I will cut you into tiny bits. And then I will take whatever is left and send it to your family,” he snarled in my ear.

My breath came in harsh, rasping, terrified gasps. “Is that—it?” I gritted between clenched teeth, then drove my knee up and in as hard as I could.

~~

He was conscious, but only just. His head turned slowly toward me, eyes half-closed. For a moment, all the chaos and noise fell away. The sterile interior of the ambulance faded to the background, the wail of the sirens dimmed, and the world consisted only of Joseph and myself. I looked into his green eyes, hoping to find some hint that he would be all right, that we would both be safe. Then his fingers tightened around mine, and he smiled.

~~

One more tear rolled down my cheek as I whispered softly, only to myself, “It’ll be okay, Joseph. You’re going to be fine.” And I wanted so desperately to believe it.

~~

It took some time before I felt grounded again, safe in the moment. Able to spare mental energy to take stock of my surroundings. Tears no longer streaming down my cheeks. And when I finally looked around the room, I had to choke back a gasping sob.

~~

“He was gray in the face and couldn’t even manage a vest, but he was going in with us come hell or high water. Fletcher threatened him with everything he could think of, but it didn’t make a difference. His mind was made up.”

~~

“I’m pulling a team to send over to you. If Maksym has any sense, he’ll be on the first flight across the nearest border, but there’s no harm in playing it safe.”

~~

[whumpadoodle]

Whump Your Own Adventure - pt 58

Pt 1

Pt 57

__________

What should I do?

A) Ask about Joseph. Grant might know something. - 0

B) Ask about Lucas. Grant might know something. - 4

+3 votes for Both

__________

There was a space of silence after the nurse left, silence I used to gather my nerve. “Grant?”

He leaned forward attentively, resting forearms on knees, fingers loosely laced.

I knew what I wanted to ask, but I didn’t know how. The memory of Lucas’ voice, his voice speaking Russian words, muffled by the locked door that kept me hidden away...it rubbed my mind raw.

“I just….I was wondering….” I stopped. I couldn’t do it. Did I even want to know?

“I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

I froze. Something had happened to Lucas?

Grant smiled kindly. “He popped some stitches and wore himself out, but he just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Joseph. He was talking about Joseph, not Lucas. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, then the full impact of his words hit me and I did both. It emerged as a hiccuping sob, slipping through the grin that split my face. “That sounds like him.”

Grant was a wealth of information, and freer with it than anyone I had spoken with in the last few weeks. He was happy to share the story, and I soaked up every bit of it.

Joseph had been out of his mind with fury when Sector Chief Fletcher finally broke the news that I had been snatched. The only way Fletcher could secure Joseph’s promise to stay put while they searched was to set up a command post in his hospital room. When they started to mobilize for the rescue, not even the doctors could convince Joseph to stay behind.

“He was gray in the face and couldn’t even manage a vest, but he was going in with us come hell or high water. Fletcher threatened him with everything he could think of, but it didn’t make a difference. His mind was made up.”

Just hearing Grant recount the story turned my stomach into knots, as worry and relief made it their battlefield. I would have to decide if I needed to scold Joseph or thank him first. Grant ignored my internal struggle and continued recounting all I had missed. They had found me in a part of town commonly known as the Alphabet Streets, in a ramshackle house that had been sitting on the market for months, nowhere near any of the Russians’ usual haunts.

“Not a big house, but there were two floors, a garage, and a shed out back. Ground enough to cover that we split into pairs after the initial breach. Joseph and I just happened to head down the hall. It was all I could do to keep him from busting in the door himself when he heard your voice.”

I shuddered, both at the memory and the thought of the damage Joseph could have done to himself.

“I kicked in the door, but Joseph was the first one through. And there you were, pinned to the wall by that—” he paused, clearly changing the word he was about use, “—that goon, a knife to your throat. Clear and imminent danger. Joseph didn’t hesitate.”

The boom of the gunshot echoed through my mind again, bringing with it the surprise on Vlad’s face as he collapsed. I winced at the memory and hoped it would fade soon.

“He’d do anything for you, Quinn. You know that, right?”

The smile was more reflex than genuine. I did know that. Joseph has proven it over and over when we were children, and now he proved it again at the risk of his life. And I had repaid him by believing Max and his foul lies. To think that I had come so close to being the cause of Joseph’s death not once, but twice in the past week—tears brimmed in my eyes unbidden.

Grant noticed and frowned. “You should get some rest, Quinn,” he scolded. “Joseph would never forgive me if I upset you.”

I gave him a watery nod and settled back against the pillows. I started to close my eyes, but they sprang back open. The need to know about Lucas as well would keep me awake, I could feel it. As terrified as I was of the answer, I had to ask.

“Grant?”

“Yeah?” He paused in his efforts to settle more comfortably in the chair and turned his full attention to me again.

“Do you—I mean, have you—have you heard from Lucas?”

Grant hesitated a beat, then another. “I haven’t seen him in a few days. He told me he got tapped for another assignment, but I haven’t been read in. I’m sure he’s fine, though.”

“Oh.” It was an answer, yet it wasn’t, and the possibilities it allowed for left me cold.

“Get some sleep, Quinn.”

Obediently, I shut my eyes, but I didn’t know if I would sleep.

________

What should I do?

A) Focus on going to sleep. Rest is good for the body and mind.

B) Don’t force it. Sleep will come when it comes.

________

[whumpadoodle]

Whump Your Own Adventure - pt 57

Pt 1

Pt 56b

________

What should I do?

A) Answer him. Find out who he is. - 4

B) Press the call button. Get someone else in the room. - 4

C) Author’s Choice

________

I clutched the call button in my hand, thumb trembling over the switch, and hesitated. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dim light, I realized that he looked familiar. My eyes narrowed, trying to make out his features.

Slowly, he lifted his hands, palm out. “It’s okay, Quinn.” His tone was calm and reassuring. “My name is Grant.”

“Is everything all right in here?”

Instantly, his attention swiveled from me to the newcomer standing framed in the door, face in shadow. Grant rose to his feet, putting himself between me and the doorway in one fluid motion.

“I need to see your badge, sir,” he said, clearly expecting to be obeyed.

The nurse—or so I assumed—pulled a lanyard from around his neck and held it out. Grant examined it for a long moment, then handed it back with a nod. He stepped aside, allowing me an unobstructed view of the doorway again.

“Quinn?” Grant looked to me to answer the original question.

I blinked, trying to process what had just happened, then realized I still held the call button in my hand. Had I pressed it? I couldn’t recall. I looked from the nurse, who waited expectantly, then to Grant, and back again.

“Could I—” I stopped, then tried again. “Could I get some water?”

“Of course.” The nurse gave me one more searching glance, then turned away.

Grant watched him go, then resumed his seat. “”I work with Joseph,” he offered by way of explanation. “Sector Chief Fletcher assigned me to you.”

I frowned. That would be why I had recognized him. He was part of Joseph’s four man team. I hadn’t known all their names, though. Not even Lucas, though it felt like I had known him forever. That part wasn’t confusing. “What do you mean, assigned to me?”

A grin flashed across his face, then was quickly replaced by seriousness. “When you were snatched, Joseph blistered Fletcher’s ear about it. You’ll have a 24-hour security detail until further notice.”

The arrival of the requested water spared me from responding immediately. I was grateful for the moment to think. And for the water. My throat was dry as bone. I sipped it carefully and assured the nurse I didn’t need anything else.

__________

What should I do?

A) Ask about Joseph. Grant might know something.

B) Ask about Lucas. Grant might know something.

__________

Pt 58

[whumpadoodle]

Whump Your Own Adventure - pt 56b

(Now with a choice!)

Pt 1

Pt 56a

________

My dreams were bizarre and terrifying, full of looming shadows and unspecified danger. I ran, chased by something unseen. I ran until I could run no more and woke with a gasp to a darkened room. The sun had set, and the only light came from the bright corridor, accompanied by muted sounds of activity. I was tired and sore, but wide awake, heart pounding.

Slowly, I shifted, turned, and pushed myself up so that I was sitting. The movement made my head spin, and I paused, focusing on the feel of the blankets beneath my hand. The spinning faded into a dull throb, which had been my constant companion for the last several days. I realized I had no idea what day it was or how long I had been held captive.

That thought came with a renewed flood of panic, and suddenly a wall of emotion slammed into me, driving the air from my chest as my thoughts whirled beyond my control. A memory spiral caught me away, flinging me straight back to that eight foot by ten room with the peeling paint and the dusty mattress. Vlad’s angry shouts roared in my ears, and I felt tears well up and spill over.

My hands trembled as they clutched the blankets, grasping for anything solid and real to pull me out of that terrifying place. I bit my lip until the salty metallic flavor snatched my focus from the memory and dragged me back to the present moment. For long moments, I drew in one shuddering breath through my nose. Held it as long as I could. Forced it out through my mouth. Took another. And another. I found my calm and clung to it desperately.

It took some time before I felt grounded again, safe in the moment. Able to spare mental energy to take stock of my surroundings. Tears no longer streaming down my cheeks. And when I finally looked around the room, I had to choke back a gasping sob.

A man sat in a chair not three feet from my bed, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest as he dozed. The man who had entered my room right before I fell asleep. The man who had stood over my bed, staring down at me, so close I could have touched him. My heart jumped into my throat, and I fumbled for the call button.

“Quinn?”

I froze. The movement had awakened him, and he sat up straight in the chair. His entire attention rested on me. And now I could see the weapon tucked into his jacket.

“Quinn, are you awake?”

________

What should I do?

A) Answer him. Find out who he is. - 4

B) Press the call button. Get someone else in the room. - 4

________

Pt 57

[whumpadoodle]

Whump Your Own Adventure - Pt 56a

(Interlude)

Pt 1

Pt 55

_____________

What should I do?

A) Stay awake. Wait for news of Joseph. - 3

B) Sleep. News will come when it comes. - 7

_____________

I wanted to stay awake. My thought was to keep my eyes open long enough to hear about Joseph, then let myself sleep. My body clearly had other ideas. After a time of struggling to keep my eyes from closing and panicking every time I failed, I finally accepted the futility. I desperately needed sleep. My body would get it one way or the other, so I made the choice to consciously relax my muscles and let my eyes close.

No sooner had my eyelids shut than a nurse entered the room, rousing me again. She was apologetic, but insistent. The doctor had ordered more precautionary tests after reading the police report of my capture. They took more blood and had me pee in a cup. Frankly, I was just happy to have unrestricted access to the bathroom again.

I answered more questions, fatigue weighing on me and muddling my thoughts. When I told her about the drugged food, the doctor ordered a tox screen. Just to be safe, she said, though whatever had been in the food had likely long left my system, and there seemed to be no lingering effects.

After yet another round of tests, and no further word about Joseph, I sank back into the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. Exhaustion had finally pushed me past the ability to sleep, so I lay there, eyes wide, feeling like I was drowning in quicksand. My entire body buzzed around the edges, an almost palpable vibration that drowned out all thought.

Eventually, I drifted to a place that was somewhere between sleep and waking. The world swam by me and around me and through me. I noticed, but did not or could not react. Not even when a man floated through the door, holding a low-voiced conference with someone just beyond. Not when he stood over me, gazing directly into my eyes.

It was then, despite the panic that bubbled in my throat, that my eyes closed and the tide washed me away.

~~~

Pt 56b

[whumpadoodle]

Whump Your Own Adventure - pt 55

Pt 1

Pt 54

_________________

What should I do?

A) Make an effort to respond. Ask about Joseph. - 6

B) Don’t bother. Get some sleep and talk to them later. - 4

_________________

It was a monumental task, opening my eyes just then, but I made the effort. The first sliver of light stabbed straight back into my skull, and I squeezed them shut again.

“Quinn.” The calm voice wasn’t going away, wasn’t going to leave me alone. “It’s okay, Quinn. Open your eyes.”

I tried again, forcing my eyelids apart. Opening my eyes was just the first step; the next was harder. The room whirled around me as I tried to focus, my eyes crossing and uncrossing, dancing and closing before opening again. I concentrated, twitching my fingers to reassure myself of the sheets beneath them, not the harsh fibers of a bare and dusty mattress. Finally, the visual swirl slowed and resolved, and I was relieved to find that I was still in a hospital room, no longer a prisoner in handcuffs.

My gaze settled on the owner of the calm voice. She stood next to my bed, with a white coat and a friendly smile. She patted my shoulder encouragingly.

“You’re doing great, Quinn. Keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

That was easier than opening them had been, but still required intention. It took most of the energy I had as she took out a penlight and shined it at my pupils, flicking it away occasionally. She seemed satisfied and tucked it back in her pocket after a few moments.

“Your vitals are stabilizing, Quinn. How are you feeling?”

I thought about for a moment. “Ouch,” I tried to say, but the word came out only as a croak.

The doctor winced sympathetically and nodded. “I hear you’ve been through hell,” she said, reaching for a cup of water. She pressed a button, raising the head of my bed, and gave me a small sip.

Instinctively, I reached for the cup with my right hand, but stopped when I felt the tug. I looked down to see tape stuck to the back of my hand, covering a tube that slid down the side of the bed and up to a bag of clear liquid suspended on a metal pole. The doctor followed my gaze and answered my unspoken question.

“You were very dehydrated when you came in. We’ve had you on a saline drip for the last couple hours.”

That surprised me. Not the need for fluids, but the time. I would have sworn not more than ten minutes had passed since my EMT had escorted me into the treatment room.

Then a surge of panic hit me, lifting my head off the bed. “Joseph?” I demanded, my voice more cooperative this time.

“Joseph?” She frowned.

I tried again. “Joseph. My cousin. How is he?”

Her puzzled expression cleared. “Your cousin, of course. I haven’t heard, but I can try to find out for you.”

I collapsed back against the pillows, disappointment and relief washing over me. At least she hadn’t told me the worst. The sudden rush of emotions left me feeling wrung out and exhausted again. “Please,” was all I could manage in response.

“I’ll see what I can do. For now, get some rest. I’ll come check on you again in a bit. Call the nurse if you need anything.” She offered another sip of water, then patted my shoulder again before leaving the room.

I struggled to make my breath calm and even, trying to ride out waves of fear and nausea. Joseph would be okay. He had to be okay. My eyes unfocused again, and the room swirled around me.

_____________

What should I do?

A) Stay awake. Wait for news of Joseph.

B) Sleep. News will come when it comes.

_____________

Pt 56a -Interlude

[whumpadoodle]

Whump Your Own Adventure - pt 53

Pt 1

Pt 52

_________

What should I do?

A) Talk to Joseph. Distract him from the pain. - 5

B) Stay quiet. Let the EMTs do their work. - 5

+ 2 votes for Both

C) Author’s choice

_________

“Joseph,” I whispered.

His eyes, half shut, opened fully and he looked up at me. One eyebrow twitched.

“Do you remember the day I tried to learn how to skateboard?”

Joseph smiled at that, and a quick exhale through his nose told me that he still had his sense of humor, even if it did make him wince.

“You ate so much sidewalk that day, we didn’t need to feed you for a week,” he said, pain and amusement fighting for prominence in his words.

I laughed. “It didn’t go very well, did it?”

It was true. I still sported a scar on my knee from one of the many times I had fallen. But Joseph rode a skateboard, so my childhood self was determined to try. We had been inseparable, despite the handful of years between us. Our families used to joke that I was his bodyguard, since he was never seen without me. We both knew it had always been the other way around.

“Every time I fell, every time I hit the ground, you were there to pick me up. And every time, you said the same thing. ‘It’s okay. You’ll be fine.’ Every time.”

Joseph squeezed my hand again. “It always was. And you always were.”

My eyes started to water again as I returned the pressure. Every time, he said it. He had wiped away the blood and my tears and sat on the grass with me until I was ready to try again. No matter how far away the skateboard flew, no matter how skinned my hands and knees got, it was always okay. And I would be fine.

“Even when I quit and gave away my skateboard, you said the same thing. I never forgot it. Because it’s okay. And we’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine,” he repeated, searching my face intently. “We’ll be fine.”

The ambulance pulled up in front of the hospital, and the doors were flung open. More medical personnel swarmed around as Joseph’s gurney was rolled out and lowered to the ground. The EMT closest to me gripped my elbow reassuringly and helped me out. We trailed behind the crowd as it streamed into the emergency department.

One more tear rolled down my cheek as I whispered softly, only to myself, “It’ll be okay, Joseph. You’re going to be fine.” And I wanted so desperately to believe it.

_____________

What should I do?

A) Ask for an officer to come and finish giving a statement. Get it over with and out of the way. - 5

B) Wait for them to show up. Take advantage of the momentary reprieve. - 10

_____________

Pt 54

[whumpadoodle]

Whump Your Own Adventure - pt 51

Pt 1

Pt 50

___________

What should I do?

A) Run to Joseph. Is he okay? - 9

B) Run to Ilya. Is he alive? - 5

___________

My knees buckled. I managed to catch myself before collapsing and was vaguely aware of uniforms and guns filling the small room, but I could see only my cousin. He looked straight back at me, pain and determination etched into every part of his face. He nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line, then began to slide slowly down the wall, sinking to the ground.

I was halfway across the room, pushing aside officers, before I realized I was moving. I reached Joseph just as he hit the floor. His right hand, still limply holding his weapon, fell to his side. He wrapped his left arm across his chest protectively, wincing. That’s when I noticed the blood seeping through his shirt, a spreading circle of deep red.

“Joseph!” The fear that had been my close companion for so long spilled into my voice, panic right on its heels.

With visible effort, he raised his head and met my worried gaze. “Quinn,” he whispered hoarsely. Joseph moved his hand from his chest to my arm, gripping it tightly, both of us heedless of the bloody handprint he left there. “Are you okay?”

My right hand covered his, the handcuffs still dangling from my wrist, and I nodded. It was a lie. I wasn’t okay. I was far from it. I was bruised, bloodied, and sore, with a head that ached fiercely from being struck, or from lack of food and water, or both. That pain was rivaled only by what was still dully throbbing in my shoulders from where my arms had been pinned behind my back for so long. Red bands of angry flesh around my wrists stung fiercely, protesting even the slightest movement. The dirty, tattered bandage on my right arm, courtesy of Maksym, now barely covered the tender, swollen gash. My body still thrummed with the adrenaline of staring at my own certain death and then of the life taken so violently and so near me. I needed a bath and food and sleep. I was not okay, but I was in every way that mattered at that moment.

“I’m okay,” I whispered back.

Joseph searched my face, his brow furrowed. I did not know what he hoped to see there, but I did not look away. Finally, a tiny smile pushed at the corners of his mouth, making way for a small, rueful laugh. “Liar.”

I felt a smile curling around my lips as well and leaned into him. Our foreheads touched, and we rested against each other for a moment, reaching for reassurances that would not come and finding comfort anyway. I gradually became aware of the commotion behind us, and the reality I had been holding at bay crept back in.

Then I realized I had forgotten about Ilya. Panicked, I swiveled to see where he was, if he was still alive. The young man was being hauled to his feet by two officers and his hands cuffed behind his back. He swayed unsteadily, dazed and confused, then his eyes fell on me. In that moment, he looked painfully young and scared. My stomach turned two consecutive backflips, and suddenly I was on my feet.

___________

What should I do?

A) Try to explain about Ilya. He shouldn’t be treated like the rest.

B) Wait until later. A coherent explanation may be more effective.

___________

Pt 52