Revolutionary Love (The Revolution Series Book 1) (2 page)

My eyes shot open. It was not a dream. The same rosemary scent from earlier drifted through my nose. I struggled to get myself into a sitting position. I sat in the dark, silent room for a few moments. I was alone. Now was my chance to escape. I thought about my failed attempt earlier. I had passed out. How far would I make it this time before I passed out again? I pressed my hands into my face. The doctor wrapped gaze on my palms again. Something was strapped around my head. I pulled it off, only to see that they had wrapped an ice pack to my head.

I needed light, but it was not a good idea to turn on the lamp. I did not want anyone to know I was awake. Taking things slow, I moved the comforter off of me and slid out of bed. My knees trembled for a few seconds.

“You can do this,” I whispered words of encouragement to myself.

My feet padded on the flush carpet. Reaching blindly for the door that lead into the hallway, I came to a halt when I heard footsteps. I held my breath, listening. Someone was pacing outside the door. They had someone on watch. It was official, I was a prisoner.

I backed away from the door, not letting that deter me. A slow pound began to fill my head again. Just how hard was my head hit? I slid through the door that led to the bathroom and clicked it shut behind me. Locking the door, I flipped on the light.

I let my eyes adjust for a few seconds. Now was my chance to escape. The marble floor was ice, cold against my bare feet. I looked down. What was I going to do? Escape in a tiny nightgown with no shoes? I needed to change my clothes. Looking around the bathroom that was the size of my studio apartment at home, I spotted another door. A closet, maybe?

Opening the door, I was relieved to see clothes. I had never seen so many clothes packed into a closet before. Stepping inside, I noticed it smelt like vanilla. Potent vanilla. I crinkled my nose in disgust. Quickly shifting through the clothes, I realized I was not going to find a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Everything in here was extremely fancy. I settled on a black cashmere sweater and a black lengthy skirt. The girl did not even own one pair of jeans. Looking towards the shoes, I groaned. I had a feeling I was not going to find any tennis shoes. I was right. There were only pumps and flats in here.

Exiting the closet, I knew it was now or never. I shut off the lights and didn’t bother waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark. Curse words slipped out from my mouth when I stubbed my toe on the bath tub. I remembered admiring it earlier in the day. Who places a huge bathtub in the middle of the bathroom?

With every step I took, the pain in my legs and ribcage got worse. I had a sinking feeling that before I even got far the pain was going to be unbearable. Like a thief in the night, I slid out the balcony doors. I was on a patio. Looking right and left, I realized the patio stretched all the way around the house. My heart stopped when I heard footsteps coming from the right. I walked to the edge of the porch and internally screamed as I lifted my body over the wooden railing.

A sharp breeze blew the long skirt around my ankles and almost tripped me as my feet landed on the ground. The drop was maybe three feet but felt like ten feet. I ducked and pressed my back against the wood behind me. When I no longer heard the footsteps, I pushed myself up and slightly jogged through the tall grass. I was heading straight towards a forest. I was in the middle of nowhere. I attempted to distract myself from all the pain I was feeling. I needed to focus on making it to the woods without getting caught.

This was too easy. In all the horror movies I watched, it was always said to never look behind you. Although I felt like a piercing gaze was burning a hole in my back, I kept my eyes forward. I was determined. When I got determined, there was no stopping me.

I felt safe, yet in danger the moment I disappeared into the dark, ominous trees. Tree branches scraped across my cheeks and I tripped over tree stumps countless times. Why did I think it was a good idea to run? Why did I not just stay and explain that my name was Brianna and something weird was going on? What exactly would I have said? I was in the same body, but my body was different. My hair suddenly grew a foot and my tattoos were gone? I laughed without humor. This is a dream. There was no way this could be real.

Was I hallucinating? Did I experiment with some kind of drug? As a child, I always participated in red ribbon week. Swearing I would never, and I mean never, do a drug. Then I hit high school and broke the promise that seven-year-old me made to myself. If only seven-year-old, me could see myself now. Trudging through a forest, in the dark, and tripping every few minutes like a drunk person.

I don’t know how long I walked or how far I had gone. My legs gave out. It was pathetic really. One second I was telling myself I could do it and the next I was curled into a tiny ball hugging my knees to my chest. I began to cry. I was never really much of a crier, but this moment seemed like a good moment to have a pity party. Sobs tore through my body making the pain in my rib cage hurt even more. My head felt clogged and now my feet were killing me. I just wanted everything to be okay. I wanted to be in my crappy apartment in West Sacramento.

Laying on the muddy floor made me feel like a failure. I couldn’t even make a small trek through the forest. Crying harder, I didn’t hear it when footsteps approached. More than one person’s footsteps.

“And so the princess lives.” A girl’s voice cut into my pity party.

Princess? I peeked an eye open to see black boots right in front of my face. Something told me my night was about to get worse. Maybe she would help me. Tell me where I was. Hell, maybe she could even tell me who I was since I couldn’t even seem to get that right.

I began to push myself up, but she instantly shoved me back down with her boot. I groaned in pain. I had a feeling I was not going to be getting any help from her after that.

“What’s wrong, hun? Daddy didn’t buy you a diamond bracelet to match your diamond necklace?” Her tone was mocking. An image of the diamond necklace on the vanity appeared in my head.

I stayed down. I did not know this girl, but she seemed to think that she knew me. I held back from informing her that my father was dead. I had a feeling that that wouldn’t help my situation. I shut my eyes and acted as though she was not there.

More footsteps appeared. “What is she doing all the way out here? You would think after the bombing in Louisville she would be under house arrest.” A guy inquired, stopping right next to my head.

What have I gotten myself into now?

The girl snorted. “Probably sneaking off into the woods to hook up with one of the soldiers.” Her tone was catty. “Don’t worry, I promise not to tell your fiancé.”

Fiancé?

“If that’s the case, we need to get out of their territory.” A new voice stated.

I don’t know what overcame me, but I felt drawn to see where that voice came from. His tone was rich and smooth. Confident. He sounded like a leader. I opened my eyes and turned my head. Brown boots. Looking further up, I saw green cargo pants and a fitted white tee shirt hugging an obviously fit body. Strapped on his thigh was a gun. My eyes zoned in on the gun. He had a gun. I was alone in the middle of a forest with someone who had a gun. I looked further up to see a shotgun resting on his shoulder. Now not only did he have a gun, but he had a shotgun.

My crystal blue eyes connected with his green eyes. His face was in a blank mask. I knew my face showed confusion and fear. Why was this happening to me? I ducked my head down again and closed my eyes. I was not going to fight. I had nothing to lose.

Hearing the click of a gun, my body froze. Anticipation filled me. Maybe with a bullet going through my head, I will wake up in my own bed. Maybe all this is a nightmare. It was impossible for this to be real.

“What are you doing?” The first guy questioned, moving away from my head.

The girl gave an irritated sigh. “Finishing what we started. You think that small, amateur bomb left any kind of message? Little princess over here lived. We need to set fear in The Unit. They need to know what we are willing to do. They have no humanity. They need to be stopped.”

“How will killing Stephan’s only child bring back the humanity? What lesson would this teach? If you kill, we kill? We need to use as little violence as possible. If you blow her brains out, you will set fear within the people, not The Unit. We need the people on our side.” The leader of this small group of three said.

Was this the group that the dark man was talking about? The group of rebels that set off the bomb? Just three simple, young looking people? They sounded like terrorists. Did they say something about a unit? I felt like I was going back in time a hundred years. Time traveling. And who is Stephan? I wanted to let them know I was not Stephan’s daughter. I was not who they thought I was. I just happened to look similar to the girl who got blasted in the bomb, but she was not me.

The girl scoffed. “We do not need the people on our side to win the war. Adam, don’t you see! The people could care less!” Now she sounded pissed off.

“Be quiet.” Adam hushed the group.

I strained my ears, attempting to hear what they were hearing, but I heard nothing. I could not even hear them breathing. My mind felt fuzzy. I was getting confused and disoriented again. Opening my eye, I saw that everything was black. They turned off the flashlight. I couldn’t even see my hands in front of my face.

“Her tracks lead this way.” A voice called out in the distance.

Oh no, they were coming. Fear gripped my gut. I got to my feet and lifted my hands out for guidance. Those three people were gone. Did I dream this? Was nobody really here? I staggered further into the trees, trying to escape. Failure was not an option. I shivered from the cold night air and tried not to focus on the discomfort of my wet clothes.

Slamming into something solid, I plopped on my butt and groaned. Pressing my right hand into my ribs, I looked up. I could not see anything. Just never-ending blackness. A bright yellow light flashed down on my face, blinding me instantly.

I was caught.

“No!” I screamed, throwing chunks of dirt and twigs at the individual standing in front of me. I knew my effort to get away was useless, but I did it anyways. I was acting like a child throwing a tantrum.

Hands gripped my arms to prevent me from throwing things. I screamed to the top of my lungs, only stopping when I needed to gasp for air. My legs thrashed out, clipping the person in their knee cap. Hearing a groan of pain, satisfaction took away some of my fear. I kicked the person again in the same spot, but this time harder. Pain echoed up my own injured legs.

The man seethed. “Do. Not. Make. Me. Hurt. You.” He lifted himself up easily, although I knew his kneecap had to be hurting.

I paused. The flashlight was on the ground, so I couldn’t see who it was. Before my mind processed what I was doing, I chucked the flashlight at his face. It made a loud smack against his flesh and a few choice words left his lips.

I scooted back and rolled over getting ready to shove myself to my feet. Lanky fingers wrapped around my ankles and tugged. I flipped over, landing on my back. Tears of pain filled my eyes. A gave a small scream of pain.

“Evelyn, play nice.”

I looked at him. He was a soldier, that I knew the moment I saw his uniform. The badge on his camouflage uniform said The Unit. What kind of military branch was that? His name tag read Sanchez. Sanchez looked furious. Brown eyes flared in anger. His teeth were bared. In his right hand he was holding a baton, arm up and ready to hit me. I put my hands above my face, waiting for impact. Nothing struck me. Peeking through my fingers, I saw a young man holding onto Sanchez’s raised arm.

Sanchez instantly lowered his arm, backed up a step, and stood with a rigid spine. He saluted the young man. Fear was written all over his face. I glanced at the young man, new fear awakening in me. If Sanchez had something to fear, then so did I.

The young man was in the same uniform as Sanchez. I could barely make out his name in the dark. The flashlight was facing towards the right. I squinted. Seth. His name was Seth.

Seth ignored Sanchez as if he did not exist and peered down at me. He was frowning. His eyes were dark, almost as black as the night around us. Copper brown hair hung around his face. He had a strong jawline and stubble covered his face. Reaching a hand forward, he waited.

I knew what he wanted. I was supposed to take his hand. It was a sign of trust. I did not trust him. I stared back at him, waiting for his next move. He did not make one. A few minutes passed by with him holding his hand out to me, palm up. He did not seem like he wanted to harm me, but in a place this foreign, I knew I could not trust anyone. I decided to give him the satisfaction of thinking I trusted him. Hesitantly, I laid my hands into his warm palm.

He wrapped his fingers around me and pulled me up with ease. I stumbled into him and promptly shoved him backwards. So much for the trust factor. Amusement danced across his face. I gave him a dirty look in return. Nothing going on right now was amusing.

He lifted his hand, ignoring it when I flinched, and rubbed his thumb across my cheek. His body language showed adoration, but Seth had empty eyes. “I have missed you, Evelyn. It is a miracle that you lived.”

“My name is Brianna.” I finally spoke the truth and it felt refreshing to hear my real name.