Get Us Out Of Here

*Eli*

Tristan, Mark and Reece have spent some time with Kamila now, and we have been rotating so Kamila can feed the babies. They all look so full and satisfied, sleeping in their little cribs with nurses coming and going quietly, and Kamila is resting again. I can't imagine what it must be like to give birth to four babies at the same time, so I'll give her all the rest time she needs.

I don't want to take my eyes off my new son. He looks so perfect, lying there with his little strands of red hair sticking out of his little beanie. His hands are so small, as are his little toes, how can something be so small and beautiful?

I have to laugh a little when I look at that red hair, it looks a lot like mine. I remember when I was younger. Back then, I hated my red hair because it made me stand out in the crowd. As the son of the ET1, I was always supposed to be his heir, but it seemed like people were envious that I was different from them. I guess no kid wants to feel like he doesn't fit in, even if it's because he's the future ET1.

In my case, all this red comes mainly from my mother, who had long, curly, shiny red hair, while my father only had a little bit of red that showed when the sunlight hit it just right. Mom had a red ET, and everyone respected her like a great Moon, and Dad's ET had a dark black coat that, like her hair, shone red in the sun.

I wonder if my son has a red ET, just like me. And I'll make sure he knows how he makes it special, and that it's okay to be a little different.

Reece taps me on the shoulder and nods toward the door. She hadn't even noticed that anyone had gotten up, but the other ET1s are already leaving. They all seem as reluctant as I am to leave the babies in their little cribs.

“They'll be fine,” Tristan says once we're in the hallway. —I trust Mark's staff to take care of them, even if he doesn't want to leave my little mini flower. But it's been a long night, and we're no help to Kamila on an empty stomach.

I didn't even realize it until now, but I'm hungry. I guess the whole night pas...ed between the births of the four babies, and it's time for breakfast. I had been so focused on my son and Kamila that I had forgotten to tell Kelly about my little pup, but I'm sure Mark's staff has gotten my sister comfortable somewhere and caught her up on all the news.

I'm surprised he hasn't contacted me mentally yet, but he probably wants me to enjoy my new role as a father.

'Kelly?' I say in her mental link, focusing on her. She doesn't respond, and it's not her style to ignore me, so maybe she's still asleep. It's pretty early, I guess, and we had a long night.

Mark's chef has a full breakfast ready for us in the dining room, and it's definitely a breakfast fit for an ET1. We walk in and everyone greets Mark warmly, so he has to stop at a few tables to shake some hands and thank him for the congratulations. It's not every day that a pack welcomes a new ET1 heir.

Everyone also congratulates each other, so Reece, Tristan and I also find ourselves shaking a lot of hands with people we don't know. The women are excited to meet Kamila and see the babies, and we have to explain that it might take a few days since they are so small. They all seem to understand, and are very friendly.

Well, almost everyone is friendly. There's a table in the far corner of the room, and I notice that everyone sitting at it looks gloomy and grumpy, especially this big guy wearing overalls and a white t-shirt, which seems a little strange to me because everyone else is They are dressed a little more formally.

The servants show me a seat next to Mark, so I lean in and ask, “What's up with that guy?” I try to nod casually toward the corner table in a way that no one will notice, but when I look up, the big guy is staring at me. I look back at him, and he finally looks away.

“That's Al,” Mark says. —His father was once my father's ET2, but he's always been upset that he wasn't my ET2. He would have done it if he was qualified, but he has no respect for the position, so I chose someone else. He thinks that somehow he should go straight from being the son of the ET2 to being the ET1, so I guess he's a little grumpier today now that I have an heir.

“Understood,” I say. -It's a threat?

Mark shakes his head. "It hasn't been a problem," he says. —He just complains but doesn't have the strength to back it up. I'm not worried about Al.

“Still,” I say, “I'll keep an eye on him.”

Mark nods with a light laugh and digs into the huge plate of bacon in front of him. I join him; I was hungry before, but the smell of all this amazing food makes me not want to pay attention to my table manners.

I'm taking a bite that's a perfect mix of scrambled eggs, bacon, and ham when I look up and see a woman walking through the door of the cafeteria. I can read her concern on her face, and for some reason, she starts to worry me too.

In a matter of seconds, he runs towards Mark. “ET1 Mark,” he says, taking a second to make the gesture of respect. —My partner Chris...he didn't come home last night! Do you know where he is? It also doesn't respond to my mental link. Something... something is wrong!

I have no idea who Chris is, but a strange feeling runs down my spine. I do not like this.

Mark looks at me. —Where is Kelly?—He asks.

“I have no idea,” I say. "I take it she's still asleep?"

Mark pushes his chair back, stands up, and shouts, "Vicky!"

A middle-aged woman appears from the kitchen. —Yes, ET1 Mark? —She says.

"Our guests... where did you put them?" Mark asks.

"Guests?" Vicky asks. —We prepared some rooms, but only ET1 Eli arrived here. We as...umed that...

Mark turns his gaze to me. “Kelly…” he says.

I'm already frantically trying to contact her through the mental link, but I'm getting no response. I shake my head and walk away from the table myself.

I'm not very hungry anymore.

***

*Kelly*

I'm still struggling to see with the blinding light on my face, but I feel like someone has entered the room and shoved something into my hand. Whatever it is, it smells good, and makes my stomach growl after who knows how long I've been trapped... wherever I am.

As my eyes adjust, I see that it is a woman. She is wearing what used to be a dress but is now just a pile of torn and worn rags. Her face is dirty and so is her hair...looking closer, I see that she is not a woman but a girl, probably younger than Heather.

For the first time, I can see Heather in front of me, and the girl who had entered the room is also putting something in her hand. She then pulls out what appears to be a couple of water bottles from a bag she's carrying, and she hands them to each of us.

Heather looks terrified but calm. She's sitting on the floor, as am I, her eyes still blinking as she tries to adjust to this new flood of light. I try to tell her with my mouth that she is fine, but I really know that she is not fine, at all.

We're both chained to the wall in some strange dungeon-like place with dirt floors and what appears to be a huge steel door, which the girl now walks through and closes, leaving us behind without a word.

"It's... it's bread," Heather says quietly. —Do you think it's safe to eat? I'm hungry.

For the first time, I pay attention to the lump in my hand, which I now recognize as some kind of muffin. It's not much, but the smell and proximity make me want to inhale it. But, like Heather, I know to exercise caution.

What had happened in Heather's life to make her so calm right now?

“I don't know,” I say. —Let me try it first, and we'll wait a few minutes. Then if it's okay, you can eat it.

“Okay,” she says.

I guess if they—whoever they are—are going to poison us, I'd rather they do it to me first. It's not like we have a choice. Sooner or later we will have to eat. But why do they keep us here, and why do they feed us?

A few moments after giving my approval to Heather, I know she can't contain herself much longer. It's a little difficult to eat with the position our hands are in with the chains, but I manage it, and then I manage to open the water bottle, which is sealed, and I'm glad about that. She probably hasn't been manipulated.

“I wish it wasn't so dark in here,” Heather says. "Will we ever get out of here, Kelly?"

“Let's try it,” I tell him. —We will certainly try.