Run

 

“So what am I doing?” I ask, clasping my hands behind my back. I hope that my nervousness isn’t showing through my shaking fingers.

Dr. Cornell continues to march at a clipped pace down the hall. He doesn’t seem to hear me.

I follow him, quickening my pace. The cool feeling of the white tiled walls and floor – even the ceiling – increasing my anxiety. I had been too nervous to look at the exterior of the building much, but it looked an awful lot like a metal cage.

“Dr. Cornell?”

He doesn’t look back at me and keeps walking, but actually says something to me. “What all have you been told?”

“Not much.”

Dr. Cornell stops. I see that we’re at the end of the hall, a heavy metal door is right in front of us. He opens the door, and I step forward to look inside.

The inner workings of the room look almost prehistoric – giant plants in what looks like a beach on the edge of a grassland. Two giant lizards are fighting, standing up on their rear legs, their thick tails supporting them.

I, of course, sneeze. I’m severely allergic to palm trees. Both lizards stop and turn my way, blood and saliva dripping from their mouths.

Dr. Cornell shoves me in, and I stumble. He whispers, “Run.”

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