(Authors note: This chapter is much longer than most of the others because it was written before I decided on a limit of 2000 words per chapter, my apologies. I have separated the chapter into four pages to facilitate your reading. Rest assured that this is the last chapter with this issue of length.)
Kiluana brought them to a small motel not far from the police station. A dreary establishment to be sure, just on the border between the slums and downtown. Kiluana insisted that it functioned well as a temporary headquarters, but the manager wasn't so happy about the arrangement. He sat in his little booth and shot them a hideous glare as they walked through. He probably wasn't getting paid for their presence. Forcing one's way around with a gun certainly had advantages.
“Back already?” someone greeted from the motel room.
Kiluana stepped in and waved for the others to come in as well. “We have guests.”
“Guests?”
The blond girl immediately stepped in to inspect Meeki and Samara up close. She poked her face around every here and there to make her assessment, but frowned in disinterest. “Weren't we supposed to kill you guys?”
“I changed my mind, Haurtanna. They're our prisoners now,” Kiluana said as she fell upon the furthest of two beds.
“Aw, prisoners!” Haurtanna squealed. “Do I get to play with them?”
Meeki wasn't sure if she wanted to know what the girl meant by playing.
“Later. Right now we have to hear their story, so everyone sit with me. Put Meeki on the other bed, and let's give her something to help the paralysis,” Kiluana ordered.
Samara laid Meeki carefully over the bed and sat nearby. She eyed the two girls warily as they assembled beside Kiluana. A man dressed in a very formal black suit answered to Kiluana's order by sorting through a large bag near the sink.
“Your legs will be fine once you drink his medicine.” Kiluana smiled and leaned back comfortably. “So in the meantime why don't you tell me what's going on?”
Samara looked to Meeki for a moment, uncertain about talking. Meeki understood the concern more than well enough, but the story had to be told. You don't want to deny a terrorist like Kiluana of what she wanted.
“Have you heard of the Cult of Braya?” Meeki asked.
“You mean those annoying people who aren't able to understand a children's story? Sure.” Kiluana smirked.
“Actually, we're both members.”
Meeki detailed her reason for joining and the leader's assassination scheme. The other two girls seemed rather bored with it, but Kiluana's face sparked with great interest whenever she heard of the leader and his plans. She eventually stared up to the pale white ceiling, lost in thought. Her gaze slowly lowered back down once Meeki finished.
“Sounds fun,” Kiluana said.
“Fun?” Meeki scoffed. “Maybe you're too young for this, but it's no fun knowing that your family could be hurt, especially when it's your own fault.”
Kiluana said nothing to that.
“It's not your fault,” Samara assured.
Something about verbally admitting her responsibility for the situation proved too much. She felt shameful for letting her family fall into such danger, and the shame made way for a great anger. The overwhelming sort of rage that overflowed through one's entire body. She needed to let it out, but the paralysis of her legs disallowed much access to hit anything. She only clenched her fists tightly and waved them around as if to strike herself in frustration.
“Meeki,” Kiluana said.
“I'm an idiot. I wanted my life to be exciting and what did it get me? Everything's a fucking mess!”
“Meeki!” Kiluana shouted with powerful authority.
Somehow, the girl's voice dislodged the focus of Meeki's anger. Her mind eased back to a state of shameful depression. “What?”
“Take your medicine now.”
The butler stood nearby, holding a cup of something that looked dark red and hideous. Meeki took the cup and stared at it. It looked like a cup of blood. Knowing these ruthless girl's reputation, it could even be some kind of a poison. She frowned to the drink and glared at Kiluana. “I'm not drinking this, it looks awful.”
“Oh, grow up,” Kiluana groaned. “Here, I'll drink a little to show you it's fine.”
Kiluana grabbed the cup out of Meeki's hand and drank some of it. Her body shook with incredible reproach to the taste. “I s—said it's fine, not tasty. Now drink it unless you want to be paralyzed for days.”
Meeki hesitantly took the cup back. She studied the thick redness of it one more time before swallowing it as fast as possible. It tasted like old soup, but the real problem arose in the form of disastrous nausea that soon overtook her entire body. She thought she could fight it off, but the room blurred and swam around to the point where nothing made sense. She could hear voices, but they felt distant like a dream. For some time she even felt an incredible urge to vomit. Everything faded to darkness as she lost consciousness.