Anderson brought his wrist up and checked the time, 4:56. He placed his drink down and marched towards the small room. As he approached, soft muffled whimpers came from behind the door. He picked up his pace, thinking someone might have done something to Nevada.
He was relieved when he saw her intact. She had her head buried into her boney hands, her legs trembling violently.
"Are you hurt?"
Nevada slightly jumped from surprise. Wiping her tears away, she nodded. She wanted to to speak, but when she tried to form a sentence nothing came out.
"Anderson." She said, but really she didn't say anything. She just mouthed his name.
Anderson stood in front of the girl completely puzzled, "what is it? Did you lose your voice?"
She opened her mouth, but no words came out of it, only small squeaks and a few stutters.
Anderson called for the man; he was worried.
The man came in asking what the problem was. "What is it?"
"She can't seem to speak for some reason."
Hearing this, the mans face lit up. He slightly smirked, "that's ok. Now come on or we'll be late for our flight."
Flight? What flight? Where are we going?
She tried to speak again, but still nothing came out. Anderson looked at the poor girl with sympathy, "Come on, I'll carry you."
Once she was in his arms, she felt her heart pound against her rib cage. Her head started to pound like before; she hissed and positioned her head to a better place, but the pain didn't stop.
"Nevada? Are you okay? Nevada."
All she saw was darkness.