I raise my fist and knock four times hard on the metal door. There is a couple moments of silence and then I hear an electronic buzz above my head.

I look up and see a security camera positioning its cracked lens on us. Soren’s hand in mine is trembling and I know he’s terrified.

“It’s okay,” I reassure him, “If members of The Stand are here, they’ll be kind. They’ll know me.” Soren doesn’t seem convinced.

There is another electronic clanking noise and the rusty door creaks open. Inside about a dozen armed people are standing in a semicircle, staring right at us.

A young man around thirty with sandy hair and blue eyes steps forward, and I recognize him instantly.

“Petra EsrohErif-mai, you are alive.” He says reaching out to shake my hand.

“It’s good to see you RaguoCeugor-mai.” I say with a warm smile. It’s nice to find someone I can trust.

“Call me Cougar.” Says the man, approaching Soren.

Soren backs away, clinging to my arm. I try to shake him off and tell him he can trust Cougar.

“Who is this?” Asks Cougar suspiciously, glaring sharply at Soren.

“Please, this is my friend. Don’t give him a hard time.” I say putting my arm around Soren’s shoulder. Cougar circles us suspiciously.

“I’m sorry Petra, we know you but we don’t know him. Send him outside. We don’t know we can trust him.” Cougar says, going to open the door.

“Wait, you don’t understand,” I plead, “He can’t do any harm. He needs to stay with me.” Cougar listens to me and looks from me to Soren and back to me. I continue.

“Look Cougar, he’s shaking with fear. He’s mentally ill and needs to stay with me.” I drag Soren out from behind me so everyone in the room can see him.

Cougar shakes his head apologetically.

“Petra you should know better,” he sighs, “That could all be an act. I’m sorry but the freak has to go.”

I glare at Cougar fiercely, arm around Soren’s shoulders.

“His name is Soren and he stays with me.” I demand. Cougar laughs and rubs his forehead.

“Ah, young Petra.” He sighs. “I should know better than to argue with you shouldn’t I? I always lose.” He motions for me to follow him away from the door and into the room, where we sit down on makeshift chairs made of car batteries, wooden pallets, and the like.

“Well we might let your strange friend stay,” sighs Cougar, “But we’ll have to have someone watching him at all times.” I shrug and glance at Soren to see what he thinks. He looks up at me with wide eyes, biting his nails.

“Petra?” He whispers, “I want to leave.” I pat him awkwardly.

“I know. But it’s okay here, really.” I tell him.

The other people in the room sit down and join in the conversation. I ask them questions about how things are going, and they ask me what I’ve been doing.

“Well I was flying back from meeting my dad in northern Canada, and the weather system malfunctioned. My Camper wasn’t handling the storm well so I had to land. I could’ve stayed the night in the vehicle, but I went out to survey the area to figure out where I was, and then the storm worsened so I had to go to the nearest storm shelter. That’s where I met Soren.”

Everyone watches me expectantly waiting for me to finish.

“Well I brought Soren with me the next day to the city, and then we continued on here.” I skip the part about the three men who threatened us on the mountain. I will tell later if it turns out they were part of the Collective.

A young woman with dark black curly hair raises her hand.

“I want to know more about the stranger you brought with you.” She says stand-offishly.

There is a murmur of agreement around the room. I don’t want to tell them too much about Soren, I don’t think they should know he’s Genetically Modified. The won’t trust him if they know.

“Well…” I begin slowly, looking nervously around the room.

“No, not from you,” protests and older man wearing a makeshift eyepatch, “we want to talk to the stranger.”

“Yeah!” Chimes in a middle aged blonde woman, “let us ask him some questions!”

“Okay, okay!” I exclaim, “Go ahead. But keep in mind he’s really shy and he’s not quite right in the head. Oh, and don’t scare him or threaten him.”

Soren looks up at all the people and looks back down sadly, rocking back and forth anxiously.

I feel bad for him, he is hearing every word people are saying about him and I’m worried it will set of his self destructive behavior.

“Hey you,” Calls the lady with the curly hair to Soren, “do you understand English?”

I grit my teeth in fury at her rudeness, but Soren answers calmly, if a little confusedly.

“Um, y-yes ma’am I do?” He says in a quiet voice.

“Then tell me this. Where’d you come from?” Asks the older man.

“I-I came from…” Soren stutters, eyes darting nervously.

“He doesn’t have to tell you!” I complain, “he’s very sensitive to this topic, give him a break!”

“Either he tells us, or he leaves.” Growls the old man. It seems we have no choice. I look at Soren and grab both his hands in mine and nod for him to continue.

“I was...at the BioMod Corporation. I was held there against my will and...experimented on.” Soren’s voice shakes and I try and stop him from rocking back and forth.

“I don’t understand!” Interrupts Cougar, “explain more!”

Soren bites his lip and nervously runs his hand through his hair.

“Well go on, talk!” Demands the curly haired woman. Soren pulls one hand out of mine and bites at his nails, looking up at me distraughtfully.

“Wait,” I hold up my hand for silence, “He needs something.”

I turn to Soren and speak to him softly.

“What do you need?” Soren looks nervously at the dozen people staring at him and leans close to me.

“C-c-could I have some w-water?” He whispers in my ear.

“Oh of course! You should have asked sooner!” I say sympathetically. I call to Cougar and ask him to bring Soren a glass of water. Cougar sends another younger man to go fetch the water, leaving all other pairs of eyes to stare at Soren in silence.

When the young man returns with the water he hands it to me, and gives Soren a dirty look. I apologetically hand Soren the cup and look into his eyes, concerned for him.

Soren holds the water up with shaking hands, spilling some as he raises it to his lips. The group gives him just a moment to drink before continuing the barrage of questions.

“So what’s wrong with you?” Asks a woman rudely. I clench my teeth and put a protective hand on Soren’s shoulder. His hands are twitching and the water sloshes out of his glass. I steady his hand and whisper softly to him.

“It’s gonna be ok, just answer their questions best you can, alright?” I try to smile at him but he’s not meeting my eye.

The woman continues asking.

“I mean you’ve obviously got some problems, kid. Can’t you tell us what’s wrong with you? Otherwise we can’t trust you.” Says the woman. Soren’s hands shake uncontrollably and he scrunches up his nose.

“I-I-I-I uh, m-my my, um, I mean, w-well I-I d-don’t, um” Soren stutters so badly he’s incoherent.

“Shhh-Shh-shhhhh….” I hush him and hold his shaking hands still. Then I turn to the people in the room and glare at them.

“Look how upset you’re making him! This young man doesn’t deserve this. He’s been abused, he’s suicidal, and he has severe anxiety! Please just leave him alone!” I half shout angrily at the room. A couple people guiltily look down and shuffle their feet awkwardly.

Only a couple return my challenging glare. One burly young man stands up and strides angrily towards Soren. I step in front of him protectively. The man bends down and glares into Soren’s eyes.

“I know you’re a fake!” The man spits, “I don’t believe your stupid story! I bet your a Collective spy!” The man roars in Soren’s face before I can push him away. There’s a loud tinkling of broken glass as the water cup falls from Soren’s shaking hand to the cement floor.

I gasp and grab for Soren’s hands as he picks up a glittering shard of glass and jabs it into the palm of his hand. Everyone in the room gasps as red blood spills to the floor.

“Oh Soren!” I cry in dismay, knocking the shard away from him and clutching his injured hand. Fortunately, I don’t think the wound is in a vital place. I pull off Soren’s loose shirt to press to the injury, revealing his thin body, every rib poking through his pale skin.