Free Perfection (JL Spelbring) by JL Spelbring Page B

is closed.”
    “Exactly when did we discuss this?” said the male who had sounded irritated before.
    “Shut up, Woody.”
    “I’m serious. This could be very dangerous. What if someone’s looking for her?”
    “Wake her up.” The female’s footfalls echoed back to the others. “We’ll ask her.”
    “I think she’s already awake,” said Rein. He tapped the tip of her shoe.
    Ellyssa stayed still and kept her eyes closed, her breath even. She projected outward, ignoring the thumping and the haziness. She had to concentrate. She ventured from head to head. Her body remained the target of the barrels of shotguns—12 gauges. She waited.
    “You do the honors, Jason.”
    “Cover me,” said Jason, nasally. “Hey.” Cold steel, like the feel of ice cubes, poked her wrist. Goosebumps rose and trailed up her bicep, finding her spinal cord. She fought against the shiver. “Wake up.”
    The sound of a boot scraping against the floor, as if the owner was preparing to kick, alerted her to danger. Before he had a chance, Ellyssa leapt to her feet.
    “Stop her,” someone yelled. She thought it was the one called Woody.
    With one lithe movement, her foot connected with Jason’s hand and the shotgun clattered to the floor. She whirled around and performed a back kick into the female’s stomach. Hissy Voice backpedaled and fell against some shelves. Wood snapped on impact.
    Ellyssa stumbled as darkness rolled on the edge of her vision. She struggled against it. She spun, feebly attempting to take out the one they called Woody. A shot fired and echoed around her, disorienting her. She fell.
    “I told you this was dangerous.” The voice sounded far away, like someone was speaking from the other end of a tunnel.
    “Shut up and help me.”
    Blackness laid a cold hand on Ellyssa.

11
    A feeling of floating, and images of reds, browns, yellows, and white wavered in and out of Ellyssa’s awareness. Colorful hues and shades blurred around the edges. Bright lights burned her eyes and scorched her flesh, especially her leg. Something was burning it. At one time, she thought she’d screamed. If not, she’d wanted to.
    Alternating feelings of hot and cold. Sweating and shivering. Angry voices. Intrigued voices. All filtered through. She wasn’t sure whether any of it was real or if it was all a dream. She didn’t care. She welcomed the darkness when it had sucked her away from the confusion. Welcomed the calmness and the blankness.
    Ellyssa would have welcome it now, but she was awake. The burning sensation had been extinguished. The pain had not. A thin blanket covered her, and she was lying on something softer than the ground, her head resting on a pillow. Musty air smelled like fresh dirt, as if someone had turned the soil recently. And even though the area seemed open and lit, from what light filtered through her eyelids, it felt dark and enclosed, too.
    She listened intently. Everything was silent. Before opening her eyes, she waited for another few seconds to make sure. In the distance, barely noticeable, she heard the shuffling of soft footsteps. Not the clicking of soles against tile, like back at The Center, but muffled and dulled. The owner of the footsteps entered the room and approached her bed. Cool, rough fingers, those of a male, gently grasped her wrist. She fought an impulse to yank away.
    Whoever was taking her pulse let go and scratched something down on paper.
    Ellyssa searched his mind. No ill-will tainted his thoughts. Mostly concern, and clear images of how she was posing as something once human. A ghastly face, greyish skin, sunken cheeks and eyes, cracked lips, and her hair stuck to her head in thick, tangled clumps. It would’ve been more befitting if a tag hung from her big toe.
    Her head began to pound. She broke the link.
    The male walked away, but didn’t leave. She felt his presence lingering.
    More footsteps, this owner stealthier, entered the room. She heard water sloshing in a