The first thing I registered was that something touched my leg. The pain hasn't returned yet, but my brain has started functioning.

The nudge repeated and with that my hearing picked up a weak, barely visible murmur. My body felt heavy as if I was lying under a pile of concrete slabs.

"Is...dead," I distinguished from the chaotic mix of noises.

"How...s....ge...t...ry," the other voice sounded as muffled as the first. Then the voice got closer, and I sensed something warm on my wrist.

"It...b...ly..." the sentence again hadn't gotten processed through my head correctly.

Pressure on my shoulder did something to my body and out of sudden my eyes flew open and I was facing the sky. A group of people that gathered around me in a circle swiftly jumped away with yelps.

"Scared me shitless!" Someone cried. The thought amused me and something like choking came out of my mouth that in fact was my laughter. My laughter turned into a cough, a kind of a cough that scared me to the point that I froze and felt a rumble going through my insides. I suppressed it and relaxed trying to restore myself.

When I let my body settle with my head, they finally had come to some form of cooperation. I managed to move my fingers and as my fingers twitched, a sharp pain spread through my arm. That caused burning in my veins, and soon my entire body was on fire.

With pain the flashes of last night, I assumed that it had happened last night, came down to me rushing. I remembered the bullet, then I remembered running like a mad woman, then I recalled my bear buddy that I acquired by accident and then last but not least - the collectors.

At the thought of the collectors my muscles flexed and forgetting the pain, in one awkward but quite a swift move I've pulled myself up and positioned my arms in front of my body ready to dodge the attack.

Something firm was irritating my right palm. I glanced at my hands before looking around and noticed that I still was clenching to the stick. That gave me a small breath of confidence and despite my blurry vision, I started blinking and rotating on one spot scanning those who surrounded me.

My gaze was shifting from one face to another and in about two minutes I've gained my vision back and was able to take in their appearances.

My nose started drawing the air in. The air tasted strange, there was no honey in its scent, but also it didn't feel like metal. When I registered that fact, a frantic pounding of my heart eased, and I slowed the pace of my visual investigation.

Five men that had been standing in absolute shock looked nothing of what I expected. To put it bluntly, I didn't know what I expected from life any longer, the fact that I was standing and breathing was enough for me, for now. However, the men didn't look like Indians.

Even being severely injured, dehydrated, exhausted, starved and mentally disturbed, I could see that all five had a Caucasian build and complexion. Three of them were on a younger side, maybe slightly older than me. One of them was in his thirties, he looked robust and severe. I noticed that his shock worn off fast enough and he stood with a frown on his face studying me the same way I was studying him and his companions.

The last was a man in his fifties. He was the most intimidating from the group. He looked well, even pleasant, but something in his eyes told me that he was also dangerous, and I needed to be really cautious around him. But, if to summarize my first impression, I should say that all five were handsome even wearing those funny clothes.

My attention turned to the surroundings, and when I noticed that I was no longer in the forest that stretched right behind the abandoned farm, my arms automatically fell to my sides. My back straightened up, and I began looking thoroughly around.

"Who are you and how did I get here?" My voice croaked but sounded firm nonetheless.

"The question is how did YOU get here?" That was one of the older men. The one who looked in his early thirties or late twenties, the one with a frown and a set of beautiful blue eyes. "How did you get here and passed the security unnoticed?"

Indeed, there was no forest and no farm. Instead, there stood a huge fence with concrete walls several hundred feet away from the spot where we were standing.

"Um...Where's the farm and the forest? It was here yesterday!" I insisted.

"The Farm had been demolished thirty years ago," The oldest man replied. He had no humor in his eyes. The only thing I marked was that he pursed his lips a little that gave his expression doubting hints.

"Unless I've been transported here while unconscious, I see no reason why I would wake up not in the bushes right behind the farm!" I spat in irritation and compressed the stick harder in my hand ready yet again to be attacked.

The way I said that sentence would be funny in any other circumstances. I sounded crazy even to myself.

Of course, I've lost my sanity long ago, but not to the point not to see something wrong with the phrase: I see no reason why I would wake up not in the bushes right behind the farm.

"Jokes aside, girl!" The dangerous man said in a cold tone. "How did you get here?"

A rush of adrenaline that kept me standing started dissolving in my bloodstream, and my head started spinning again. Feeling dizzy I drew my left hand to my face and struggling not to lose consciousness, I pressed my fingers to my forehead.

"I don't know how I got here. I've been running and then the collect..." I cut the word off afraid to say it out loud. "Then the bullet and I reached the farm. I've been ambushed, and I headed in the direction of the forest. He followed me, and I jumped into the line of the trees and then I don't know what happened...I woke up here." I mumbled in a rush. "I suddenly don't feel well. If you don't mind, I would like to sit down." Saying that I melted on the ground onto my knees and hugged my head with both arms unclenching my right fingers loose.

The stick fell with a dump noise somewhere next to me, and I sensed liquid on my palm. My eyes focused on my hand, and I saw that the skin of it was scratched off and bleeding.

"Okay, boys. Take her into the car and treat her wounds. We will deal with the rest later," the man said, and I heard huffing coming from the rest of them.

"I'm not touching her! She stinks like a fucking trashcan in the public toilet!" One of them cried.

"God knows what kind of diseases she is carrying!" The other added!

"Oh for fuck sakes!" Another voice muttered.

I gave the guys a cold and hard glare and using the utmost remained dignity pulled myself up. The ground was twisting in front of my eyes, but I've been worse.

"Lead the way," I fixed my stare at the oldest man and giving me a nod he turned around and started fluently walking in the direction of the car.

The car looked sturdy. I've never seen a Pickup of that size and frame. It was enormous and different. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was definitely off about the whole situation, including the car. Right next to it was parked another car, I've never seen something like that before, even when I've been living with Thomas and my mother.

I said nothing only giving wary glances to the vehicles and unsteadily followed the man. When I reached the Pickup, I've been invited with a gesture to the open body of the car. I guess, my stink and condition were so terrible that I was denied of the salon. Not arguing I got to the trunk and using my last strength climbed inside. The man got into the front seat, and a roar of the engine came alive.

While driving away, I watched the rest of the guys heading to the second car. They jumped inside and followed us.

I didn't give many thoughts to where we were going. These people were obviously strange, though I probably didn't stand as a simple one myself. I closed my eyes ignoring my overly suspicious thoughts. Right now, if I wanted it or not, I needed to fix my health using these people's resources, otherwise, all the running was for nothing if I get very ill and die of pneumonia.

After approximately ten minutes of a bumpy ride, we've arrived at a facility that looked like storage or a garage. The car smoothly drove onto the territory that was surrounded by another set of a fence and we stopped by a single metal door.

I've been asked by the man to jump out of the trunk. Without looking at him or saying a word I did as he requested and followed him inside the building.

Immediately, my eyes started studying a brightly illuminated industrial looking hall. It was entirely empty containing only the walls and the lamps that hung loosely from the ceiling. In the distance, I saw another set of doors, and that's where he headed from the entrance.

When we reached the door, I heard the voices coming from behind. I guessed that the rest of the guys had arrived already. But we haven't paused to have a conversation. The man opened the door punching in the digits into a fancy looking lock and we stepped inside.

This room looked like a storage that contained all sort of things on the shelves starting from the bulbs and finishing with some documents in the yellow covers. At the end of the room was located a station with twenty or so TV sets on the wall and I could see that all of them were showing the pictures of the outside. And as I figured it out they were actually showing the pictures of this domain in particular. And the quality of the images, as well as the screens, were exquisite.

"I assume you are in need of shower and medicine," the man asked me. I nodded reluctantly and whispered, "that 'd be great."

"The shower has warm water, and there's also a bar of soap on the shelf. Take care of that first and then we'll decide what to do with you. There's a little closet in the restroom. I keep there my spare shirts and pants. Take any that will fit you and then come out. We need to have a serious conversation with you."

I nodded again and entered the door that he pointed at. On the left, I found a switcher and the lights opened a view of a dated bathroom facility.

The shower stall was without a tub and without the curtains for that matter. The floor tiles were of a dirty yellow color and had drainage holes in the middle. On the right, as the man said I found a build in closet and next to the toilet I saw a sink where spotted a bar of white soap on the shelf above.

Without hesitation, I closed the door behind. The door didn't have a lock, but it wasn't a bother to me. All my desires got consumed by a want of hot shower and clean clothes. I made a trip to the closet where picked up a hair towel and went straight to the cabin.

I turned the water on and started peeling my dirty clothes off me. Some places of my clothes were soaked through with my blood and dried to my skin to the point when it was painful, and I had to step under the shower so I could remove it. When I pulled my shirt and my pants off, easily I got rid of the rest and finally let the water run freely over my body.

I didn't want to get out, but a layer of grease I've been wearing on my skin annoyed me. Hissing in pain from burning that water left on my wounds, I reached for the soap and ruthlessly began scrubbing every inch of me starting with my hair down.

For the first six times that I've rinsed myself, I had removed most of the dirt and blood. Horrified I watched the water turning from dirty red to filthy brown, but kept scrubbing myself until a feeling that I haven't felt for like five months returned.

I knew that I was clean enough to finish with showering. Just in case I've soaped my face, hair, and body three more times, and unwillingly cut off the water-hating the loss of warmth that the shower had been providing.

I ran the towel over my skin and wrapped it around my dripping hair. Then I grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt from the closet and pulled them on. Both pieces were too big for my skinny body, but a nice clean sensation was too admirable to complain.

I swallowed nervously anticipating the second part of my interaction with the strangers and headed to the door. On the handle, I found a plastic bag with a note. The note said to gather my dirty clothes into the bag and leave it on the floor by the toilet. I complied, and when my impossibly stinky attire was tied securely inside the trash bag, I left it where I was told and washed my hands in the sink. After that not wasting any more time, I pushed the door open and let myself out.

When I've emerged from the bathroom, three pairs of eyes set their curious stares on me. I eyed back the trio noting that the two of them went missing, and took a deep preparatory breath.

"I assume that you are hungry," the oldest one said. I nodded not trusting my voice after my body got relaxed by a hot shower. "When was the last time you ate anything?"

I inclined my head studying him, then looked down and blinked thinking of when was the last time I ate. "Solid food or snack?"

Finding my question interesting he copied my expression and replied, "both."

"Well," I gave it a thought. "October fifteen was the last time I ate something solid and two days ago was the last time I had had a snack," I honestly replied.

The second old one snorted and cracked a smile. I'm sure it was amusing to him. Suddenly something started making that noise. I narrowed my eyes at the guys, my nerves alerted. One of them pulled something small from the pocket and pressed it to his ear. The room went still and through the stillness, I could hear the voice coming from the thing. I gulped and retrieved to the wall.

"What is this thing?" I asked breathlessly.

"What do you mean?" The youngest one gave me a look as if I've gone mad. I'm sure I have, but still...

"What is he pressing to his ear?" I shook my head.

"It's a cell phone, duh!" He rolled his eyes. "Just a new model. Didn't you see new iPhone?"

"A Cel...l...phone?" I pronounced. "When did they manage to invent that? Is it some top secret device available only for Mr. Palus people?"

"Is she serious," he twisted his finger at his temple implying that I'm crazy. "The iPhones had been on the market since two thousand seven, duh!:

"Hm?" I frowned at him. I must have misunderstood him. "Excuse me. I'm still very slow. Please, repeat that again."

"What part?" His expression went amused.

"The last part. I must have misunderstood you," I said.

"Okay...what year it is now," he cocked his eyebrow at me.

"Nineteen...sixty-three," I retorted slowly not sure where he was going with that.

"I have three versions," the blue-eyed said turning to the oldest one. "She ran away from some loony bin, or she bumped her head really bad that she'd lost her memory, or she simply pouring that nonsense on purpose to confuse us." Then he turned his face to me. "Whatever it is, it's two thousand ten outside, sweetheart!"

"Huh?" I only managed to choke before laughter erupted from the pit of my stomach.