CHAPTER NINE
The lights were bright and the room was cold. All the things were beige. Everything was strange. The smells and the sounds, the floor and the windows and the sparse furniture that shared the space. I sat huddled in a hard chair by the window, the scratchy gray blanket still wrapped around me, my thoughts flying in every direction, fear sitting heavy upon my chest. Where am I? Are they going to hurt me? I startled when the door opened suddenly, sitting upright as Cody Rutland walked in. “Zakai,” I breathed, my voice shaky. Where is Zakai?
He gave me a small smile, setting a tablet of paper on the table in the middle of the room. “He’s fine. He’s in the hospital.”
“The man, he zapped him with lightning.”
“He tased him—which, after the beating he’d endured, rendered him temporarily unconscious—so he could lift you both onto the helicopter.” He sighed, running his hand through his sand-colored hair. “Zakai’s a fighter, I’ll give him that. And I know what I’m talking about on that front.” He paused. “I promised him I’d take you to him just as soon as the doctors are done patching him up, even though he bashed me over the head with a piece of pottery.” He rubbed at the back of his scalp, wincing. “I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it,” he muttered.
My throat felt clogged. I didn’t know whether to trust this man, this Cody Rutland, but he hadn’t harmed me when he’d had the chance, and if what he was saying was true, he hadn’t harmed Zakai. “Can I go to him now?” I asked.
“Soon. I need to talk to you first. Will you come sit with me?” he asked, indicating the table where two more of the beige chairs sat, hard and unwelcoming.
I nodded, swallowing down the lump. When I joined him, he laced his hands in front of him on the table and watched me for a moment the way he had in the tent. “Karys, do you understand that what was happening on Sundara was wrong?”
I blinked, wetting my lips. “I . . . I think so, yes. Haziq is not a nice man. He uses cruelty and intimidation to get us to obey him. But . . . we all owe him a debt. We’re repaying the debt by working for him. The men pay him to watch our performances. It’s how we eat and live.”
“No, Karys. You owe Haziq nothing. No one does. Haziq uses threats and bribery to get his captives there, and then uses them in illegal ways to enrich himself. It’s a crime and a very serious one.”
“We owe him no debt?” I whispered. Something sharp was stabbing me from the inside, but I didn’t fully understand what it was. All I knew was that I wanted to scream and scream and make him stop saying so many words that confused me.
“I’m with the United States government and we rescue people living in situations like you and Zakai and the others from Sundara.”
“United States?” I asked.
He peered at me, distress entering his expression, his lips becoming a thin line. “Have you . . . attended school, Karys?”
“No, but I know letters and numbers, and how to measure water and count the days of a year.”
He smiled a troubled smile.
“I was taught by Ahmad,” I told him.
“Who is Ahmad?”
I lowered my eyes, a wave of grief cresting over me. How much I would give to have Ahmad there with me, to hold my hand, and look at me with that knowing gaze, so kind and wise. “Ahmad was our teacher and our friend. He hung himself from the wall.”
“I’m sorry about that, Karys. If I have anything to say about it, Haziq will spend the rest of his life in prison for his crimes.”
Prison. A jail with bars. I met his eyes, those blue eyes like the ocean of my mind, the one I’d never seen. “And what will happen to the rest of us?” I asked. How would we survive without Haziq?
Cody Rutland leaned back in the chair. “That’s something we’re going to talk about later. First, I need to know if you have any memories before Sundara.”
Before Sundara.
“I . . . I remember green shutters and . . . a woman. I remember her smile.”
He removed a pen from his pocket and wrote something on the paper in front of him. “Do you know how old you were in that memory?”
I thought about it but I had no guess. Six? Maybe Seven? When did memories begin? I shook my head.
“And Zakai? Do you know if he remembers anything before Sundara?”
“Zakai remembers being hungry and sleeping under doorways in the cold. He remembers having bare feet and an itchy head.”
Cody Rutland’s face became thoughtful as he focused on the paper, writing something more. “I see. Anything else? Surnames?”
Surnames. Second names. I knew some at Sundara had them, but they were not necessary. I shook my head. “That’s all we remember before we were rescued and taken to Sundara.”
He looked up at me. “Rescued. That’s what Haziq told you?”
I nodded. He tilted his head, watching me again until my heart picked up speed and I could no longer meet his eyes. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said I was at Sundara to rescue you,” he murmured. “It didn’t help you trust me, did it?”
I looked at him again. No. “I . . . I don’t know.”
Cody Rutland tapped the paper in front of him for a moment. He smiled, but it looked forced. “How about we pay Zakai a visit?”
My breath came short and I jumped to my feet, dropping the blanket from around me.
I followed Cody Rutland from the room, out into brighter lights and more beige-colored walls. Lots of men and women walked by us, their eyes wide and curious, their clothes like those of the ones who watched. This is where those men came from. This was Forastan. The outside place. I drew toward Cody Rutland as I walked, not sure I fully trusted him, yet no other comfort in sight. He had said he was taking me to Zakai, and it was the only thing I had to cling to.
“We’re going to get in a car when we go outside the building. Have you been in a car before?”
“No, but Ahmad told me of them. They’re like planes when they land and roll across the ground.”
Cody smiled as he pushed open a heavy door, leading me outside into the warm night air. There were more lights outside, a hundred moons shining from windows and tall poles, some moving and some standing still. My eyes bounced around, trying to take everything in, awe and confusion overwhelming my mind. It smelled funny outside, the way the wind was scented when the plane flew away.
Cody opened the door to the car and I got inside, my fingers moving over the strange material of the seat, my gaze moving from one thing to another, items I had no name for and did not understand.
Driving in a car felt like the helicopter, only less exhilarating. It stayed attached to the ground and moved more slowly, other cars with their bright lights in front and in back, and on both sides of us, moving in either direction. I leaned toward the window, gazing at the buildings flying by, a few people walking, my head turning to watch them. They didn’t look dangerous. They didn’t look like soldiers or criminals or enemies. Everything here was fast and bright, and too confusing to comprehend. “Are we almost there?” I choked.
“Yes, Karys,” Cody answered. He gave me an encouraging nod. I released a breath, my shoulders falling slightly. “You’re doing great. I know this is a lot.” He pulled the car into another parking lot, and then we were walking again, into a building that was less bright, people in white telling Cody Rutland where to go when he asked.