Sterilized, Chapter II: The Secret Cabin - A Dystopian Thriller
Vincy is ambushed by a mysterious man and his crew at a desolate cabin. A shocking betrayal forces her to confront a horrifying new reality in the latest chapter of Sterilized.
We stood quietly, fixated on the small wooden cabin. The crescent moon gashed through the darkness and reflected off the arched roof’s solar panels. His grip loosened around my mouth, but his hold across my chest tightened with each rise and fall of my chest. He reeked of pine needles and sweat. Although I was still shaking with anxiety, I was relieved that it was him– but I couldn’t understand what we were watching and why we were waiting. Heck, how did he know I was here?
We were both told to gain distance, yet we stood here. Lingering. Watching. Waiting, and for– what?
I saw no movement. I listened for whispers or quiet shuffles, but all I could hear was our short shallow breaths.
Then, headlights appeared in the distance.
We have to move!
I squirmed in his arms, but his body trapped me in like a tall metal gate. My own pulse roared in my ears, hot and frenetic.
Although the car was far enough in the distance, it felt like they were coming straight to us. Finally, an abrupt bass broke through the muted atmosphere. He constricted his grip and pulled us deeper into the woods.
A silver hatchback drove along the gravel driveway and stopped a few feet from the front door. The gravel crunched and popped under the tires. Its headlights beamed to the left of where we were standing. The side mirrors and windows of the compact car continued to vibrate vigorously, but no movement was seen through the dark tinted windows. I thought back to when I first approached the cabin. Other than the manicured driveway, it seemed pretty abandoned. I leaned my head against his chest, and looked towards the webbed sky.
How long do we stand here, and risk getting spotted? We need to disappear.
As if reading my mind, he then positioned his mouth closely to my ear and whispered, “You have to keep it together. We’ll leave shortly, I just have to handle something first.”
He was anticipating them, but why? How?
We are in this situation because of me. We knew the risks of coming back home, but a meet up was never discussed. Whoever they are, they weren’t part of the plan. Rendezvous with outsiders?
Something’s not right…
The hair on my arms and behind my neck lifted. The foreboding was palpable.
“Look ahead and stay quiet.” He removed his hand from my mouth, and without hesitation, I hissed quietly, “Who are they? I need more intel.” I shifted my head and looked up to him. He knit his woolly eyebrows and tightly pinched his lips. His tone was clipped, urgent – the way it always was when stakes were highest. No room for questions, just execution. But what were we executing? He hadn't briefed me on this.
“You want to make it out alive? Do as I say,” he scolded.
He’d kept me alive so far, somehow. But the inevitable was a shadow I couldn’t outrun forever. So much had changed between us. Sure, we were never “besties,” but we talked. He used to share the intel; treated me like a partner. Now? Now, it’s just ‘Do as I say.’ ‘Trust me, the less you know, the better.’ Trust– felt like a lie when every instinct screamed the rules of the game had been violently rewritten. Everything changed when my face was plastered across the news and “fake-news” media. This knowledge, this responsibility I carry, it’s a ticking clock strapped to my chest. I’m so tired of fighting. So tired of running.
He redirected his attention back towards the hatchback, and then hissed, “Stop looking at me. Look ahead and stay quiet.”
The throbbing bass went silent, and was replaced by the echoing sound of four car doors opening and slamming shut. Three men, dressed in black and face masks, exited the car. Two of the men carried large guns against their chests. The driver’s gun was more compact, and strapped on his hip. Lastly the fourth man, who was dressed in Khaki fatigues and a dark crew neck sweatshirt, exited the car. He didn’t appear to be carrying a weapon at all. Looking more casual than the others, he instantly caught my attention. While the others stood at attention, scanning the area, he seemed to not have a care in the world. With his hands in his pockets, he walked to the trunk of the car and nonchalantly leaned against it. For a moment, he just leaned there looking down the gravel pathway, until he finally took his hands from his pockets and placed one hand behind his ear. Grabbing the single cigarette that was tucked there; he then placed the cigarette in his mouth. Light flickered in the air, illuminating his face. I could feel my heart beating in my fingertips.
Something's not right.
The waiting, the quiet latency was a special kind of torture. A cold dread prickled its way up my spine, a feeling of impending expiry that was more than just anxiety. His calmness was the most dangerous thing in this clearing.
He lit his cigarette and let out a few clouds into the air. “Richard”, he called.
My body stiffened.
“Richard, I have all the time in the world, but you don’t. Let’s get on with it, shall we?” I tilted my head up and locked eyes with Richard’s. His eyes were now cold, sad even. Regret lined his worried forehead and crescent eyes.
No…
I shook my head frantically. I clung to each heaving breath as if it were my last. Surprise stripped me of my words, until he tried walking me forward towards the cabin.
“Wait. Wait! What are you doing?” I cried. He turned me around, making me face him.
His voice was flat, devoid of the regret I’d seen in his eyes. “This is what we’re doing. This is for the people.”
He grabbed me by my wrists and started pulling me forward again. I tried to pull my arm away, but the twisting of my tightly squeezed skin burned against his grip. I dug my heels into the ground. “No!” I cried out. I took one step back, rotated my wrist, then I yanked my arm free.
Go!
I pivoted and tried to run deeper into the woods, but a brutal fist grasped and pulled my hair, yanking me back with a force that sent sparks across my vision. Off balanced by the unanticipated jerk, I fell backwards, banging my back against the ground. Air escaped from my lungs, and I cried out from the pain.
God, please. Not like this.
He pulled me up by my arms, then swung me over his shoulders. I wheezed in short breaths as I bounced from his stride; the pain was unyielding. My ears rang and I wept as I kicked and hit– but to no avail. I couldn’t run anymore. My frantic struggles were useless, just wasted energy against his brute strength.
Preserve it– save the fight for when it matters.
I let my body go limp, submitting to the bounce of his stride as I watched the trees pass in our wake, sinking deeper and deeper within myself.
Breathe.
Richard dropped me to the ground, causing my head to slam against the rear bumper. The stranger turned towards me, and sort of– chuckled. His voice was smooth, almost conversational, “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” With his cigarette hooked at the corner of his mouth, he kneeled onto one knee, looking down at me. “She is a beauty, Dick. Even better looking in person.”
He tilted my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. They were a strange, piercing opal, devoid of warmth. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of my fear, I shifted my glare to Richard.
The silent, venomous question, “What have you done,” flashed through my eyes– before turning it back on the man holding my face.
“Busy lady. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His gaze bored into mine, as he gradually began to squeeze my chin between his thumb and index finger. I twisted my chin out of his pinch and spat. Disgust reflected in the air, as a small droplet rolled down my chin.
“We had a deal.” Richard interjected, but I could still feel the man’s eyes burning into the side of my skull.
“We did,” the man drawled.
Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he stood up and faced Richard. “Let’s get down to business. But, before we go any further, I need to check a few things out. Make sure we’re all– good here.”
“Wait, we had an agreement. I brought the girl, now I need what belongs to me.”
The strange man, again, chuckled to himself and started incessantly nodding his head. He dropped the lit cigarette beside my thigh. I flinched, then tried to pull my leg away from the smoky heat flickering against my skin. He reached for his alternate ear, where another single cigarette was resting. After simultaneously, lighting the new cigarette and snuffing out the old, he casually nodded for the three men to come closer.
“Richard, perhaps this is all new to you? Yes, in a fair exchange you would give me what’s mine and then take what's yours.” He took a long, slow drag from his new cigarette, letting the smoke curl from his lips before continuing. “The thing is, this is not a fair exchange. You’re not making any calls here. If I want to take the girl, and have one of my guys put a bullet in your head, I can. Because you’re not in charge. Are you?”
He stretched his arms to his sides and grinned, oozing a theatrical arrogance, his arms spread wide in a gesture of absolute dominance over the clearing. “We’ve been talking for a while, Dick. And I’ve grown to like you, despite the ‘Messiah complex’ you have going on. But we’re handling this my way.”
Richard’s pensive silence baffled me. Uncharted territory, perhaps? He could barely look at me. His stance shifted every time our eyes met. Guilt? Who knows? I’m praying this is all an act. Get what we need, then break out, like we always do… But it’s clear, whether he thought out this plan or not, it was no longer his say to turn back.
“I’ve been here too long already.” Richard persisted. He stood a little taller, challenging the man’s threat.
I turned to study the stranger's face. He looked like your typical young white hipster guy, greasy-man bun and all. He felt familiar, but the memory was a frustrating wisp of smoke I couldn't grasp. A conference? News report? Was he mentioned at a Cause briefing? I couldn't place him. But there was something about his eyes– piercing opal, but with a strange, beady intensity. The kind of eyes you'd remember seeing.
“Humph.” The man turned around, facing the trunk, and pulled car keys out from his right pocket. Right when he was about to pop the trunk, he lifted the keys in the air and said, “Wait! How careless of me. Gents, would you please help me keep an eye on Richard. I wouldn’t want any messy accidents to occur while my back is towards him. Oh, and someone on the girl as well.” The two men lifted their large guns and aimed at Richard, while the other guard stood with the compact gun pointed towards me. He then popped the trunk right beyond my head. I could feel the crisp cool air escape and brush against the nape of my neck.
I locked my gaze with Richard’s, trying to reconcile the strategist I’d trusted with the man now standing complicit as these strangers cornered me. This whole disastrous setup, this ambush – it reeked of his planning, yet his own tense posture and the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet the casually dressed man’s hinted that perhaps even he wasn't entirely in control of where this was heading. But control or not, he was playing his part, wasn't he? He wasn't stopping this. He’d led me here. Disappointment, cold and sharp, twisted in my gut. He’d always demanded absolute trust, citing the harsh necessities of our world. And I’d given it. For this? To be delivered, bound by his silence and complicity, into the hands of a stranger? The realization was a bitter pill. Good for you, Dick.
So, now he stands over me, trading me in like some old used car. And it makes me wonder, has this always been his plan? From the beginning, was he this master of manipulation grooming me… molding me? And for what? For this? I remember him lecturing us once at a Cause meeting, his voice full of self-assured, righteous certainty: “False pretenses are used to vindicate the misrepresentation of the truth.” I just… I just thought he was talking about them… the enemy. I never thought he would use that same logic to hand me over to them.
“Here we are.” The man said as he took out a duffle bag and closed the trunk shut. “Shall we take this inside?” Richard tried to approach the man, but the Guard stepped to intersect. The stranger tossed the bag to Richard’s feet, and I watched as Richard scooped the bag up. His movements were tight, his knuckles white around the strap. He was trying so hard to show he was in control, until he opened the bag. “This is just the money. Where is everything else?”
“Well, we need to check the girl before we seal the deal. It’s only fair.”
“I promise you, she’s good.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. John,” he called. “Take the girl inside. I think Richard and I need to have a chat.”
As John, apparently, approached me, my mouth began to dry. I looked at Richard, but still couldn’t catch his eyes.
I don’t want to know what’s inside. I don’t want to go.
“Wait a minute. Richard, don’t do this! No! –Don’t you dare touch me! Richard! Richard!”
For a fleeting second, his gaze met mine, and I saw a flicker of something—pity? Shame?— before he looked away, sealing his betrayal.
“Shut her up.”
With the gun pointing at my head, the cool barrel pressed against my skull as he grabbed me by my already bruising arm. Yanking me to my feet, I grimaced from the pain, but he squeezed harder and pushed me towards the cabin door.
“Move.”
I knew better than to speak again.
When the door was pushed open, I stood paralyzed. This wasn’t an abandoned shed. A blue medical position table sat starkly in the center of the room, flanked by ultrasound equipment and a small monitor. The floor was a cold expanse of white hexagonal tile. The white fluorescent light above was blinding and gave off a sterile glare. I could hear the fluorescent buzz as the light flicked and illuminated the position table. Folded chairs lined the walls like a vacant prop awaiting an audience. The air, thick with the chemical reek of bleach, burned my nostrils.
A tiny kitchen and bathroom were to the far right of the cabin. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and my feet stuck in place, but I was abruptly brought back to reality with a yank and led to the table. The guard then passed me a liter of water, “Sit down and chug it.” Although my spirit wanted to resist and fight back, my dehydration got the best of me. Without hesitation, I took the water and quenched my thirst for the first time in countless, agonizing hours, and possibly the last time in my life.
Richard and the strange man spoke outside for a while, before entering the cabin with the two guards following closely. I didn't know he was this much of a coward. His eyes couldn't hold mine, darting away as if my gaze physically burned him. The anger that rose in me was hot and sharp—not just that he had betrayed me, but that he would dare linger to witness his own betrayal. I looked at the casually dressed man, who no longer was smoking a cigarette. He grabbed the mobile stool by the ultrasound machine, and rolled it in front of me. Before sitting, he rubbed the stubble of his 5 o'clock shadow, and offered a crooked smile. “First, I’d like to apologize for Richard’s behavior out there. That was no way to treat a woman in your condition. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to pause and reset. My name is Mekhi. What’s yours?” He then extended his hand. Bile rose in my throat. An apology?
I’m not sure what kind of game is being played, but I’m not down for it.
“No? Don’t want to shake it– It’s ok, I get it. I’m sure you’re very confused, but you’ll warm up to me… eventually.”
“If you’re going to check her, check her.” Richard interjected.
All of the guns were now facing me. My palms pulsated from my nails digging into my flesh. Beads of sweat formed a crown across my temple. I had to remind myself to breathe, as my mind wandered.
He’s about to check me?
I may be a lot of things, but I’m no fool. Why check? Why add another strike against me…
“Shall we?” Mekhi asked me. Without a word, I lay back onto the table and closed my eyes. “Typically, we would wait an hour for your bladder to fill, so I can get a clear image, but Richard seems to be in a bit of a rush.” Mekhi scooted to the small desk, to the left of the machine, and grabbed two latex gloves from a box. Shortly after, he picked up ultrasound gel and eased himself between the machine and the table. “Unbutton your pants and lift your shirt please. Thank you... Thank you. This might feel a little cold.” A shiver traced my spine. “Alright... See, not too bad. Now, let’s see what we’re working with.” To the right of me, I saw the black, white and gray image moving across the screen.
Mekhi, no longer filling empty space with words, watched the ultrasound carefully.
The truth landed like a stone in my gut–
I cut my eyes on Richard, but when our gaze met, he lingered briefly then looked at the screen.
“Congratulations.” Mekhi said, but his tone was different– more serious. “Do you know where the father is?” I looked at Richard, a silent plea— but he lifted his chin, pinching his lips together, refusing to truly meet my eyes.
Coward.
I shifted my gaze back to Mekhi.
“You don’t have to tell me now. Just know, that spinal cord is keeping you alive… for now. ” He pointed to the screen, but never took his eyes from mine. I bit my lip nervously, and looked back at the screen. “Do you know if he received the vaccine since you found out you were pregnant?”
It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here.
“Ok. Maybe you couldn't care less about that guy. I get it. Men come and go, am I right? Not worth talking about at this moment.” He paused then shifted his attention to Richard, “Did he tell you what you're worth?” Mekhi snapped his fingers twice and began rubbing his stubble again. One of the guards walked over with a suitcase, and handed it to Mekhi. After entering a code, he popped it open and grabbed two prefilled syringes. “Two for the price of one. One of these,” he wagged one syringe, “represents the present, and the other represents the possibility of the future.” He carefully replaced the syringes in the suitcase and locked it shut with a click. My blood ran cold.
“People have wanted to wrap their hands around your pretty little neck for a while, and they’ve paid for a chance to do it. Yup, people have paid for the possibility of getting you. However– I got to you first.” He took a moment to smile before looking at my belly and continuing, “The baby is worth double, if not triple your price. You’re lucky I found you. You should be grateful.”
“What do you want with my child?”
Mekhi, paused. Perhaps surprised by my sudden inclination to speak.
“Oh, I don’t want anything… Like I said, you’re very lucky.”
He picked up a napkin and, with a slowness that felt calculated, began to wipe the cold gel from my belly. His gaze never left mine, intense and unreadable. Then, he licked his bottom lip, a slow, deliberate motion before his teeth gently bit down. A wave of revulsion so profound it felt like ice water flooding my veins washed through me. My eyes darted to the ominous suitcase on the floor, then, desperately, to Richard, searching his face for any sign, any answer.
“Life will be much easier for you, if you just… roll with it. You might realize you like your new life.” He exhaled deeply, then stood and faced Richard with the suitcase. “Richard, it was a pleasure doing business with you.” He reached his hand out and Richard met it with a firm shake, solidifying the deal.
“Richard, I hope you’ll consider our offer.”
Thank you for reading Chapter II of Sterilized! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Again, it’s an honor to share my art with you. But I’d love to hear your thoughts as you dive deeper into this dystopian thriller… This chapter was a WILD experience! Drop a comment below with your theories, share this page with a fellow thriller-lover. Click here for Chapter III or here for to access the Start Here / Chapter Guide page. New chapters are released o Tuesdays!