Demitria Lunetta - In the End

She’s limp in my embrace. I pull back and examine her.

“Baby . . . it’s me. I’m so glad you’re okay.” When she doesn’t respond, I pet her head. “Baby?”

At last she seems to focus on me, and my heart swells—and then breaks again when she opens her mouth to speak:

“My name is Hannah,” she says. “Who are you?”

She can’t have forgotten me. It’s not possible. I place my hand in hers and sign, It’s me, Amy.

Her hand remains lifeless in mine. Her fingers are freezing, her skin chalky white.

Baby, I try again. I’m here to take you away with me. She still doesn’t respond, so I say aloud, “I’ve come to get you. I’m going to take you away from here.”

For the first time Baby reacts with something other than indifference. “But I want to stay,” she tells me, her face scrunched in worry. She reaches up and twirls a hair around her finger. Before I can stop her, she tugs it free. I move her hair aside gently, revealing a pink bald patch on her scalp, agitated and raw.

“Oh, Baby. I’m so sorry. I should have come sooner. I tried, I really did.” How have I allowed them to turn Baby into this zombie child? I blink hard, battling back tears.

Kay and Dr. Samuels are whispering at the door. Then Kay’s calling to me. “Amy, what’s the holdup? We’ve got to get going.”

“She doesn’t”—I turn to Dr. Samuels, swallowing my emotion—“she doesn’t recognize me.”

“Sunshine, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to make her come.”

I nod, take hold of Baby under her arms and hoist her to my hip. Her six-year-old frame feels so light, as if I’m holding the shell that used to contain her. Pressed close to me, I can feel her heartbeat, weak and sporadic, through my synth-suit. She appears resigned to being carried until I’ve made it almost to the door, and then she lets out a scream so loud, I nearly drop her. Weak as she is, how can she make so much noise?

She keeps it up. There’s nothing for me to do but take her back into the room. Cradling her head on my shoulder, I get her to quiet down, but when I move to escape with her again, she lets out another heart-wrenching wail.

“You’ve got to leave her,” Kay commands.

“No.” Now that I have Baby in my arms, I’m not letting her go. Not for anything.

“She’s been compromised,” Dr. Samuels explains quietly. “She won’t go willingly.”

“‘Compromised’? What does that mean?”

“She’s . . . She’s not herself.”

I start to ask him again what he’s talking about, but I know. Baby isn’t Baby. Dr. Reynolds has seen to that. I think of the video, and I shudder. They’ve made her into Hannah, New Hope citizen and willing test subject. I hope it’s not too late, that Baby hasn’t completely disappeared. I look into her cold, vacant eyes, and I’m not so sure.

“You can come back for her,” Dr. Samuels says weakly.

Baby’s shoulder cuts into my arm as I squeeze her to me. She’s skin and bones. “By the time we get the chance, she could be dead.”

“We can’t drag a screaming child through the lab,” Kay tells me. “And even if we did manage it, how could we hide you both?”

“We can get some sedatives,” I say desperately. “Dr. Samuels, you must have access.”

“I don’t know how her body would react,” he tells me. “I don’t know what they have her on, and she looks anemic. I don’t think her liver, not to mention her heart, could take anything right now.”

“Amy,” Kay’s voice warns. “We have to go. And Baby can’t come with us.”

I want to tell them to go on without me, just so I can spend a few more moments with Baby. I think of Pam, staying with Mike in their cell until the bitter end, unwilling to leave him to save herself. I have to do what’s best for Baby, though, and her best chance is having me on the outside, working to get her out.

I ease her down into her chair, placing her purple crayon in her ice-cold fingers. “I’m going to leave now, Baby,” I say, surprised at the strength of my voice when my insides feel like gelatin.

“My name is Hannah,” she says, resuming coloring on her paper. “I’m not a baby.”

“Okay, Hannah.” The name sounds so strange in my mouth. “Hannah, I’m going to go now, but I’m going to come back and get you. I’m going to find someplace for us, someplace we can call home.”

She looks up at me, her brown eyes strangely serene.

“I am home.”

Numb, I back away from her slowly, unable to absorb the fact that the Baby I knew is gone. But it’s right there in front of me: That clever, fearless, lovely girl has vanished.

“Quickly, follow me,” Dr. Samuels tells us.

“Amy, put on your hood,” Kay says, and I do it, glad to mask the pain on my face. I’m the last one out of Baby’s room, and I can’t help but look back at her, clutching her crayon and scribbling robotically. The door closes and the click of the latch feels like it’s severed something deep inside me, but I turn and follow them down the hall.

Dr. Samuels leads us quickly down a series of unfamiliar corridors and at last into some sort of meeting room. There’s an oval table surrounded by several chairs and a projection screen on the wall. “Wait here until I’m sure the coast is clear,” he tells us before ducking out the door.

I stand by the wall while Kay sits on the table. She gives me a moment before asking if I’m okay.

I nod only because I have to give her some response.

“We’ll go back for her, Amy,” Kay tells me, but this time I can’t even nod.

Then Dr. Samuels opens the door but doesn’t come in. He just stands there, staring at me for a moment. “Amy, I’m sorry. I had to.”

I frown, looking at him, then to Kay. “What?” I turn and see that standing behind him is my mother.

I glance at Kay, whose look of horror confirms my fear.

“What did you do?” she asks through gritted teeth.

Dr. Samuels has betrayed us.

“Amy!” My mother rushes me and hugs me to her. She smells like flowers and cotton, and in my bewilderment, I hug her back. Then I regain my senses and break her hold, backing quickly away.

She sees my look of confused hatred. “Amy, please. You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?” I hiss. “How you left me to rot in the Ward, how you let them torture Baby?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not as simple as that.” She keeps her distance, but her voice is pleading. “I let him put you in the Ward because I thought it was the safest place for you. Then, when Dr. Samuels told me about what treatments you were really receiving, I went to Kay. I told her where you were.”

I stare at her, disbelieving. “You’re lying.”

“Amy.” I feel Kay move to my side. “She’s telling the truth. She wanted you out of there.”

“Amy, I couldn’t stand up to Dr. Reynolds then. Not directly. I didn’t have the support.”

“And now?” I ask. “Why are you here now?”

She shakes her head again. “Dr. Reynolds has gone mad since you escaped. He thinks I’m purposely stalling in finding a vaccine. Insane. He’s placed us all under surveillance. It’s impossible to get work done. I can’t leave the lab without being followed by that gorilla, Marcus. I’m sure he’s looking for me right now.”

I still don’t trust her. And yet, there are tears in her eyes.

“Amy, Dr. Reynolds was convinced you’d come back and contact me. He’s been waiting.” She steps closer, grips my arms. “It’s dangerous for you here, but when I saw you in the hall . . . I was so happy.” She releases me, presses the backs of her hands to her eyes.