When the little girl turned around to face Petra, she just smiled and stared back, still dumbfounded as to why a little person would be in a place like this. A few moments later the girl rushed her. She jumped back a bit when the smaller body settled onto hers. Petra felt something hot and wet on her skin. The tears had soaked through her sweatshirt. She put a hand to the girls head and began stroking it to help calm her, her fingers finding their way through the long blonde hair. Petra tilted her head back. She almost felt like joining the girl... but she held back her tears.
Several minutes later the girl stopped crying. Petra looked back down at the top of her head, but something had changed. The long blonde hair was black, short, coarse, shaved almost down to the scalp. The white skin was many shades darker, on the opposite end of the pigment spectrum. Petra's forehead and brows creased. Her hand stopped stroking and both hands went to the girls shoulders. Her fingers formed a firm grip around them. Petra nudged the girl back a step away from her to get a better look. She inspected the changed face... no longer a little girl, but a little boy, a ghost from her past. Her eyes closed for a tight, extended blink. This wasn't happening.
When they reopened, there was an abrupt moment of hysteria. Half of the boy's head was missing, his jaw hanging open unnaturally. He was covered in blood. “No,” she whispered. Petra held her breath in anticipation and closed her eyes once more. Tremors seized her hands and fingers.
One...
Two...
Three...
Natural reaction. High stress. Nine months in a cell. Confusion.
Petra freed her eyes once more, and expelled the air from her lungs. She took a few seconds to take in the environment. Clean, clinical. Not the bush lands. Not the desert. This was reality. When she dared a peek back at the little person, he had morphed back into the little girl. No more gore. Just a little girl. Who might be afraid now. But what felt for Petra like twenty minutes, had really only been a few seconds. She loosened her grip and let her hands fall to her side.
“I'm sorr--” Then words... male and female... from behind. Petra spun around from the girl and took a few steps toward the group to listen. Inherently, she extended her left arm out at a slight angle, palm open for the girl. Maybe she liked to hold hands. She hoped so, anyway. Petra already knew she wanted to keep her close... to protect her... at least until she could get her back to her parents. Call it instinct. Petra didn't want to miss the introductions, and wanted to make sure the little one got a chance as well. They'd both need to listen up if there was any prospect for light at the end of the tunnel. This man, Jon, seemed to know more than most about the situation.
Petra watched everyone with narrowed eyes. Her natural inclination was to start sizing everyone up... determine how they were valuable... determine what their skills were... to see how all of the pieces fit together. With her high IQ and experience with the UN and other international organizations, she had become a keen investigator through the years.
First there was Jon. His knowledge could be useful. Claims to be a computer nerd... but clearly there's a lot more to him. Just killed an armed man with his bare hands like it was nothing. Can he be trusted?
Next, Will. Petra recognized him now. President's son. Kid. Uses a bow. Other survival skills? Will come in handy. Depending on what the situation was outside of the facility, potentially could be someone very important to the country. Political asset.
Harris. Government contractor. Cyber crimes. How is that useful in terms of widespread contagion? Has to be more to him. Either he doesn't know what, or he's hiding it. Didn't admit whether he was brought by force or not.
Fourth, Kim. Obviously useful. Depending on what the landscape is now, will help rebuild. Or... perhaps since she knew she was being brought here, they used her to help maintain this facility.... which seems to be exactly what she's describing --- self-sustaining. Have worked with many people like her in the past. But why did she get to know why she was brought here, whereas I was kidnapped?
Then it was her turn. She'd speak with a straight face. Smiles were reserved for the little one and Petra didn't want to let on to her emotional state just yet. Like some of the other people here, she had some things she wanted to hide too. These past five days with no contact from the outside had forced her into a heightened sense of anxiety. She'd slowly begun the transition into hyper survival mode. She wanted to figure out what was going on and start setting priorities.
“I'm Petra Malik. One of the people that were quote helped inside unquote.” Her gaze rested on Jon for a moment. Then to Kim. “I was a human rights officer with the United Nations.” Then to Will. “Most recently assigned to help with... foreign aid.... for the US Government.” Then to Harris. “My work has spanned many different areas of the UN... a lot of my experience lies in criminal investigation... and in crimes against humanity.” And then to the little girl. “But a large majority of my time has also been spent helping governments form, reform, rebuild.” Slight smile to her. “In simplest terms...” and back to Jon. “Well, there are no simple terms to describe the scope of my training and background.” No reason to include her intelligence level. Not yet.
Petra looked behind the man and saw the Armory label next to a room. And next to that room, the Control Room. Like the rest of the rooms, it seemed they were secured by a key card lock. She really didn't want to waste any more time.
Jon was absolutely right in his last words on 'bad thing,' and 'investigating.'
“Did you find a key card on that guard? We need to get into those rooms, specifically the Control Room. Maybe there's a facility map... a newspaper... anything to let us know what it's like inside and outside. I think it's safe to assume that since this is the only guy around,” she looked at the body now covered by a sheet, “and the fact that we were suddenly released after no contact for almost a week, that something went wrong.” She paused. “At least, that's what I've observed. After all, we were... imprisoned... here for nine months without a hitch. We know that there's food and water... and weapons.” She looked back to the armory. “We need to find out if there is anything else useful here.” Options and outcomes raced through her mind. Petra also knew that there had to be medical supplies somewhere, based on what had transpired her first week in the facility. Her withdrawal. She licked her lips. There might even be morphine.