Episode 14

Miah opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that her shoulder hurt, and she lowered her arms as she looked around at the wrecked car. Glass was shattered everywhere, and some of it had cut her arms and body. Her legs were pinned beneath the dash, and she could barely move them. She looked over at Connor, whose eyes were closed. “Connor!”

She reached over and grabbed his arm, ignoring the surge of pain. “Connor! Wake up!”

She could hear voices. The men were coming up to the car, and she realized that she and Connor were trapped. Her hand went to her pocket. Surely this is not the time to shoot a gun, she thought, and looked worriedly at her unconscious driver.  Please wake up, she thought, desperate, as she grit her teeth.

“Connor, wake up!” She shook his shoulder anxiously, and then looked at his face. He was breathing. He was alive.

“Connor Wilhelmson!” a voice shouted. Miah shuddered; it was the voice she’d heard call Ben’s full name the day before.

Footsteps walked up to the car on the drivers’ side, and Miah closed her eyes.

“They’re not moving,” someone called back. A young voice.

“Are they dead?” the commanding voice asked, emotionless.

“I can make sure of that, sir.” Another voice on Connor’s side.

Miah heard the sound of a gun cocking, and she jumped. “NO!” she screamed, and hit her head on the dented-in roof of the car. Connor groaned and moved his head, but his eyes stayed closed.

“Ah.” Footsteps walked up to her door. A man looked in, and Miah shuddered visibly when she saw his eyes. Cold and cutting, his stare cut her like a rusted knife. 

He pulled on the door handle, and, through the broken glass, saw that it was locked. With a glance at Miah, he reached through the window and unlocked it, yanking the door open. Miah shook with fear, and the man said, “Get out.”

She shook her head, trying to speak. "I--"

“What’s that?” he queried, stepping closer. His hair was white, and so was his jacket.

“I can’t,” her voice squeaked. She couldn’t move her legs. She looked down and tried to move her feet.  Wincing in pain, clenched her teeth and tried not to cry.

The man looked up at the man on Connor’s side, who walked over to his side quickly. “Get her out,” he commanded.

The young man looked at Miah’s legs, and then up at her terrified face. “You can’t get out?” he asked, with less authority and less terror in his voice.

“No,” Miah stammered.

The man tried to move her legs himself, and she cried out in pain. But her legs moved. The man lifted up on the dashboard, putting his foot on the floor of the car for support, and Miah slowly edged her knees out from under it. The dashboard scraped her knees, cutting them, and her ankles hurt terribly. But she was free. 

“I don’t—don’t think I can walk,” she managed, aching all over. Blood seeped from the tears in her jeans, and she clutched her knees with her hands.

“Try,” the man in white suggested, and the very word was like a curse, the way he said it.

Miah frowned and took a step onto the ground. Her face screwed up in pain, and she pulled herself backward into the seat of the car. “I can’t,” she panted, and felt tears sting in her eyes. She blinked them back and looked from the commander to the young man.

“You must.”

“But I can’t!” Miah was on the verge of tears, and she looked away, biting her lip.