Chapter 13

Trench Series

13. Harry

When I saw what was written on that towel, I gasped aloud. It could just be another Liam, I thought, but obviously my now paranoid mind refused to accept that idea. It was me. I was subject #23. And that brought back the memory of earlier that day, when I had looked at that picture of what looked like an older me. Dead on July the 4th 2026. ‘How was that even possible?’ I asked myself. I then thought of the Hibernation Project. Did it have to do with anything? Did it have something to do with that bear that had attacked Jim and I back in Cubeville? What happened to Harry?

I quickly got dressed and went downstairs. No one was there. The dishes were piled in the sink, clean and drying. The table was cleared of what was previously there. Thee was a bottle though that stood alone in the middle of the table. It was brown and stubby. I was drawn towards it in curiosity. I picked it up. It was a pill bottle. I could see little white lemon-shaped medication in the bottle. I looked on the label. It read ‘Hypolethergicalapoleiaminimis’. I was confused.

“What are you doing?” asked a voice, harshly.

I whirled around to see who was talking to me. It was Rita. She looked furious. “Put that bottle down,” she yelled.

“What is it?” I asked, holding the bottle up.

“It’s Hypolethergicalapoleiaminimis and also none of your business. Give that to me!”

I gave it to her.
“It is a very dangerous drug,” she continued.
“Dangerous?” I asked rhetorically. “Then why do you leave it on the table for

everyone to see?”
“I didn’t expect you to snoop around!”
This is when I noticed that Rita was in her pyjamas. I had disturbed her sleep.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I wasn’t quite asleep anyways.” She said this with a sigh, showing

her frustration with me. She then put the dangerous drug bottle in a cabinet above the sink. She then looked at me and took it out again. “I don’t trust you,” she said, walking to and up the stairs to her bedroom with the bottle.

I stood where I was for about a minute in perfect silence. I wondered whether I should go to bed or investigate the house. I discovered soon that I had nothing to investigate exactly, so I walked to the stairs.

I heard a noise that made me stop. It was a gagged yell. At least that was what I heard. I stopped quickly. The floor creaked from the second floor. ‘Odd,’ I thought. ‘I swear I heard the noise from down here.’ I had. I soon came to the realization of that fact. The floor creaked again. There were two noises from two different places. ‘Rita!’ I thought. She was making that creaking sound. I heard a door close. Then a manly cough. It was not Rita. It was Dylan going to the bathroom.

The gagged yell became a groan that wavered in sound. Then the sound of pee hitting water in a toilet resounded through the house. I had time to walk to where the

noise was without being heard. This was an opportunity to not to get caught ‘snooping around’ as Rita had said.

I walked towards the kitchen again and realized that the groan was coming from near the cabinets of the kitchen. I thought, ‘If it’s exactly like my house, the shed should be right behind the kitchen.’ I got to the door just in time for the peeing to stop. “Crap!” I said under my breath. I grabbed the doorknob and opened it slightly.

Creak!

“Crap!”

Creak, creak, creak, creak!

“Crap, crap, crap, crap!”

This is when I heard the water faucet turn on. I seized the opportunity to open the door.

I was outside. It was a peculiarly windy night. The wind could have blown a small child over. I turned to my right and there it was: the wooden shed. It was locked with chains wrapped around the handles. I shook the chains in frustration.

That is when I heard a cat meowing. I looked to where the sound came from, and sure enough, to my left was a black cat, fat and slow. I do not know how long I stared at that cat for, but it was long enough for my plan (getting into that shed secretly) to be foiled.

I turned around at the sound of a women’s yell. I saw, to my surprise, Rita with an axe she must have picked up from outside while I was facing the cat. She was about to swing down at me and I only had a second to react quickly. I am alive, so I guess my reaction was good enough.

As I dodged, the axe hit the cabin doors. Wooden pieces went flying. The axe got temporarily stuck there, which gave me time to grab on to it. Rita and I were both trying to pull on the axe, which caused it to go flying back towards the fence further down the backyard. This gave me enough time to try and rip my way into the cabin using the broken wood. I tried to to make the whole bigger to wiggle my way through, but Rita was back quicker than I expected.

She swung again and I dodged again, letting the axe swing to the hole I was trying to create, making it bigger. This time though, she dropped the axe and it dropped on the floor of the shed.

Rita and I both looked at one another in an awkward silence. I then looked into the hole which we had both created. There he was, groaning. It was Harry. He looked drugged and exhausted and was tied to a chair. He did not notice me.

“Open the door!” I ordered Rita, straightening up.
“No!” she answered quietly.
“Rita! I saw him in there!”
“Which is why you must die!” she said as quiet as ever.
I expected her to attack me once more, but she turned and went to the cabin,

saying, “I’m going back to bed.” I was then left alone, with Harry in the shed, where I could not reach him. What I did manage to reach was the axe inside the shed. I took it out and swung it to the chains keeping the shed doors closed. I then opened the doors.

“Harry!” I exclaimed.
He just groaned in response.

I untied him from the chair and put one of his arms around my shoulder. As I walked to bring him out of the shed, his feet dragged behind.

I laid him gently on the ground and started talking to him, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. He had not acknowledged me yet, but I assumed that was because of the effect of some drug that Rita had poisoned him with. I thought of the bottle that was on the table inside the cabin. Rita had been very protective of it.

In the middle of that thought, Harry looked at me incomprehensibly. “Who are you?” he asked.

To be continued…

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