by Tara Ellis
I’m happy to see Seth squirm. It’s a good thing he walks from the room, because I’m afraid there may have been a smirk on my face. I quickly hide it before the other two men turn their attention to me.
Watching the door shut behind the sullen young man, the doctor shakes his head disapprovingly. “Get him under control, Nossor, or I will.” Nossor actually goes a bit pale and simply nods once curtly. “At least he’s good at bringing me people,” the Doctor continues, shifting his attention to me. “Control will be very pleased. Very pleased.”
“All the tests were performed as requested,” Nossor tells the doctor matter-of-factly. “As I am sure you have already reviewed the reports, you will know that we had mixed results. It is somewhat puzzling, although I suppose not unexpected. We knew there were likely to be some anomalies with … her genetics. But overall, I do think that you are correct and Control will be satisfied with the outcome.”
The doctor is staring at me. Without even acknowledging what Nossor told him, he approaches me and reaches out to touch my cheek. Luckily, I am so unprepared for it, that I don’t react before catching myself. The light stroke down the side of my face is so close to a caress that it makes me feel sick. It’s obvious though by the expression on his face so close to mine that he is simply analyzing the texture.
“Amazing,” he says, grasping my chin and turning my head slowly in either direction. Next he pulls at my hair, testing its fullness and strength. “Imagine. Barely thirty six hours ago she was just on the verge of death, and now look at the radiant health she possesses. Unfortunate your IQ barely registered a change,” the doctor continues, now addressing me. “But perhaps that will be one of the differences unique to your kind. It might even be better that way.”
My kind? I have no idea what he is referring to. Unsure if he expects an answer from me, I decide to go with what has proven to be a safe route. Taking a step back from him, I make a point of looking at the clock on the wall. “Are we done here?”
Chuckling, he turns and walks to the only desk in the room. Pulling open three drawers before finding what he wants, he turns back to me. “Why? Places to go?” he asks, motioning me over to a chair next to the desk, and I can see he has a digital thermometer. I sit obediently in the chair while he methodically takes all of my vitals and asks several questions.
Nossor becomes bored almost instantly. He entertains himself by reading through the chart of their latest victim dying silently in the bed next to us. This is fine by me, because the doctor made a critical error. While looking at the drawers he left open and trying to filter out the right angles, rectangles and surface formulas my obscene math eye throws at me, I notice a set of keys. They aren’t like house or car keys, but a big ring with at least a dozen identical gold-colored keys. They are similar to the ones used earlier to let me in and out of all of the rooms throughout the day: my ticket home.
“I don’t see any reason why she couldn’t be transported tomorrow,” the doctor finally concludes, turning his back to me as he speaks to Nossor. That is all I need.
By the time they have finalized my plans for departure at eight the next morning, the keys are crammed down the front of my new favorite pants.
TEN
I lay awake for half the night, waiting for the best time to make my move. Darkness is my ally now.
My bathroom while here has consisted of a crude bucket with a free-standing cloth screen around it. It is against the same wall as the door, so the camera does not aim down into it. At least, that is what I have been led to believe. As soon as the sliver of a moon dips down below the small window, I silently climb from my bed.
In bare feet, I glide along the near wall, turn the corner under the camera above the door and disappear behind the screen. I am hoping that given the late hour and darkness, whoever is monitoring the room did not notice me. I change from the hospital gown and into the scrub top that matches my pants. The keys have been pressing into my stomach for hours now, and I’m relieved to be able to pull them free.
Closing my eyes, I take one slow, deep breath to calm my racing heart. Without hesitation, I step out and press up against the wall, taking the two small steps to the door. Praying, I try the first key and then move on to the next when it won’t turn. Thank God they have this set up so that the person coming in can lock the door behind themselves. The sixth key slides home and I am taken by surprise when the knob turns under my hand.
I did it! Oh my God, I did it. Fear quickly replaces my elation. I tell myself to stick to the plan. First, I have to get to the infirmary and go through the doctor’s files. I recall that one of the tall cabinets next to his desk holds medical charts on all the people brought in. The nurses were talking about his antique record keeping when I was there recovering. For some reason, he is extremely paranoid about keeping it on the computer and insists on the old school method. Works for me. It will be the most efficient way of finding out if Mom, Jacob or Chris and the others are here anywhere. If they are, I have to figure out where they are and get them out. I don’t care if they’re Shiners. I won’t leave them here.
I open the door as little as possible, squeezing through and closing it carefully behind me. I had been worried all night that the doctor would discover the missing keys. Every approaching footstep brought on a new wave of dread, until they faded without incident. They are either spare keys, or he just doesn’t normally need them.
Now that I’m faced with this network of halls, I try and remember the route we took earlier. I don’t know what I will do if I run into anyone. We had passed a few armed men throughout the day while going for all the tests, but not many. They were dressed in the same black uniforms as Seth and Nossor, with obvious attitudes. They weren’t Shiners. Another advantage for me.
I didn’t spot any video cameras either, aside from those in the rooms. It seems they were hastily added, the power cords plugged into the walls. I imagine all of this was thrown together over the past few weeks and even the Mudameere have their limitations. They probably don’t think they have any real cause for concern when it comes to the Shiners. Their confidence will be their downfall.
After turning down three wrong passages, I have to continuously backtrack and try the other options. It is taking me too long. Just when I think I might be hopelessly lost, I find myself standing under the burnt-out lights. I know where I am. Two minutes later, I’m in front of the infirmary. Hearing voices, I shrink away.
Of course! The sick girl would need constant observation. I cautiously peer through the glass in the door and can see that I’m mistaken. The bed is empty. The two nurses that cared for me are remaking it with fresh sheets. She must have just died. As I contemplate this, they turn from the bed and start walking towards me. Alarmed, I search for a place to hide. Crossing the narrow hall, I run for the nearest door. Fortunately it’s unlocked, and I determine it’s a supply closet. I slip inside just as they emerge from the infirmary. Thanks to my advanced hearing, I can easily eavesdrop on their conversation.
“I just don’t believe in what we’re even doing anymore, Shelly.”
“Shhh! Cynthia, you can’t say things like that!”
“I don’t care. I didn’t become a nurse so I could help kill people! Robert told me this group was trying to save people, not change them into Shiners! Shelly, they have a weird idea of saving. The doctor is crazy. He really thinks we are improving the human race!”
There is a slight shuffling noise, and what sounds like someone hitting the wall just past my closet. “Cynthia! You’re going to get us killed! So shut your mouth and just do what they say. This is going to happen whether we’re here or not. There isn’t a thing you or I can do about it. If keeping my kids alive and human means I have to be a part of it, then so be it! I won’t let you jeopardize my family. Do you understand?”
“No. No I don’t, Shelly. You really think your family is safe? With Robert and most of the other staff transferred to Montana now, we can hardly even do our jobs. What happens wh
en one gets out? I don’t trust them. These Mudameere guys seem to believe they are controlling them, but I don’t buy it.”
They must have continued their walk because their voices finally fade away. I can’t help but think again of my Mom. Was she doing the same thing all those days she went to work at the hospital after the outbreak? Only she was a Shiner, so wouldn’t have been burdened with the emotional weight of it.
Shaking that thought off, I step back out into the silent hallway. That at least explains why I haven’t seen anyone else yet. With the new virus deemed a success, me being transferred in the morning and the airborne version ready for testing, this place is now on a skeleton crew.
This time the second key I try works. Very much aware of the camera aimed at the now empty bed, I carefully work my way around the edge of the room, hopefully out of view. Once at the cabinet, I’m relieved when it pulls open easily and I begin rummaging through it. I had no idea how wound up I was, so am surprised when I start crying when I don’t locate anyone with the last name of Edwards. Just to make sure, I check under Chris’s first name, too. Nothing. Feeling a little guilty for looking him up first, I try my own last name. A momentary flash of terror envelopes me when I see a matching chart, but then realize it is just mine. I am the only Mubarak there.
I am so relieved that for just a minute I forget where I am. Thank you God, I whisper, leaning my forehead against the cool metal of the cabinet. I then confirm that Nate and Kyle also aren’t there before retreating from the room.
Encouraged now, I believe I can make it. Nearing the end of the hallway like a hunter stalking its prey, I crouch low and study the huge room. It’s just like I remember it from the first night. The ceiling is some thirty feet up, the metal crossbeams exposed and set into solid, concrete walls. Although dozens of lights hang down, the only illumination is from the weak moonlight leaking in through the high windows.
There has to be close to fifty cots lined up on the floor, and all of them appear filled. I’m a little concerned about the continued lack of security. There doesn’t seem to be any guards in here at all. This means that they are either workers, dead or Shiners. I don’t care for any of those options.
However, I don’t have a choice now. I have to go through here. I am certain it’s the way out. I know the two nurses just walked into this room, so it must not be too unusual. In fact, as I am thinking this, I detect movement on the far end and make out their silhouettes at the entrance to another dimly lit hall. Bingo.
Once they’re gone, I stand, and mustering all my courage, walk out in between the beds. I make it over halfway when it happens. There is an indescribable buzzing noise that starts out low and rapidly grows in intensity.
Early on during the recovery, when we were trying to find out information, we had gathered at our neighbor’s house. He had this very old black and white television that ran off an antenna. By rigging it up he managed to pick up one local station, but everything else was white static. That is the closest comparison I can make...like the white static sound on an old television set.
Confused, I cover my ears and search the room, thinking it must be my sensitive hearing. It only grows louder and I comprehend that it is inside my head. It coalesces into a single pitch and then resonates like a humming wine glass. Just as it reaches an unbearable pitch, it stops. In the sudden silence, I am disoriented, so miss the rustling of fabric as the people surrounding me move in their beds.
When I notice the first pair of shimmering eyes directed towards me, I take a step back. Then, as one, about fifty other sets erupt around me in the strange muted grays that my own glowing eyes perceive. Shiners. All of them.
A paralyzing terror crawls up my spine, threatening to consume me. It’s as if I’m living out the recurring nightmare I have had for the past several weeks. Only, I am well aware of that fact that I am awake and this is real. Not only that, but when they look at me, they are seeing the same thing. I appear to be one of them. This thought breaks through my horror and keeps me from running. So long as I act normally, they might not recognize me as a threat.
Portraying a confidence I don’t feel, I lift my chin and walk forward with a steady, purposeful stride. As I reach my goal, I hear the unmistakable sound of dozens of heads hitting their pillows but resist the temptation to turn back.
Leaving the room, my emotions are a mixture of relief and apprehension. I felt something. I don’t know what it was, other than it had to do with the connection the Shiners share. They felt it too. Shaking my head, I add this to the growing list of concerns that I will think about later.
I can already tell the difference in this part of the complex. The walls are painted a friendlier tan color and there are even some pictures hanging on the walls. The temperature also seems warmer, like it has a separate heating system. The lack of surveillance here indicates its use is more for the employees, and I feel like I am getting close to an exit.
Again, I think back to the comment Professor Hassan made in regards to their arrogance. How can they be so confident that those newly created Shiners back there are going to behave the way they want them to? Don’t they realize their ultimate goal is to assimilate everyone? To believe that they are the puppet masters rather than the puppets is a grave mistake and it’s only a matter of time before the roles are reversed.
For now though, it’s to my benefit and I can use all the help I can get. As I reach the end of this corridor, there is a door to the left with the words Administration on it and a metal staircase leading down on my right.
Well, I certainly don’t want to go chat with Admin, so I begin to descend the yellow painted stairs. Luckily I’m so quiet with my bare feet and newfound litheness, for directly under me I discover a guard. Frozen with one foot in mid-air, I study the top of his head just visible between the gratings.
He appears to be seated, reading a magazine. Silently advancing one step, I can now peer below the upper landing. It opens up into another large room, lined with metal lockers and benches. The man below me is sitting next to a set of double metal doors, which I am assuming leads to the outside. My guess is that’s the employee entrance and those are their lockers. If it weren’t for the time of night and transfers, I’d bet it would be busy in here.
Thinking quickly, I retreat a few steps, out of sight. Using the only item I have with me, I run the set of keys along the edge of the corrugated stair. It has the desired effect, creating a loud clanging noise that should cause suspicion, but not necessarily alarm.
“Hello?” I wait anxiously, hoping that no one else nearby will hear him.
After less than a minute of tense silence, I am rewarded by the sound of heavy boots on the stairs. Acting solely on instinct that I didn’t know I possess, I grab the railing next to me and, as the guard’s head comes into view, lash out with my legs. With lightening speed, I wrap them around his neck, locking my ankles. Before he can even react or call out, I then twist my body completely around, using the railing for leverage. The result is stunning. His body does a complete flip, a seemingly impossible maneuver for such a small space. With a sickening sound, his head and back impact the angled stairs at the same time. He lays motionless beneath me, my legs stuck under him.
Sickened by my actions, I pull my feet free and wrap my arms around my legs. Is he dead? No. His back is rising and falling as he breathes normally, and relief floods me. Still shocked, I rise on shaky legs and gingerly step around him, intent on escaping. Reaching the bottom, I pause and turn back. It would be stupid not to take the gun still at his waist in the holster.
Once armed, I feel more confident as I enter the room. It’s empty. But there are several cameras directed at the entrance. Without delay, I open the front door and walk out as if it were the natural thing to do. Expecting more guards on the outside, I am surprised that no one is nearby.
A large parking lot only partially filled spreads out in front of me, and not far away is a tall cyclone fence. The only entrance is barricaded and there�
�s a small shack next to it that I’m certain contains another adversary. Feeling extremely vulnerable, I mull over my options. Beyond the fence is thick woods, and as I look up at the building behind me I finally recognize it. Omak used to make all its money from logging and this mill was shut down years ago when the industry died out. I’m only a few miles from home, still inside the quarantine area.
With renewed hope and purpose, I race to my left along the side of the immense structure. The alarm could be raised at any second. Certainly, if anyone saw me or the video, they would have radioed the unconscious man to find out who just left. When he doesn’t answer, they’ll go check and my narrow window of opportunity will be gone.
I’m heading for the cover of the dark woods. I have the characteristics of a predator now, and I have to use it to my advantage. I had always been the best endurance runner on my cross country team at school and the fastest on the soccer field. With my new abilities, I’m sure I can cover the distance to my home in less than half an hour. Every minute counts.
As I round the corner and aim for the back fence a couple hundred feet away, I become aware that someone is watching me. I’m not sure what tips me off, but I know he is there. Instead of stopping, I speed up.
“Alex! Stop!”
Even though I expected it, I am still surprised to hear Seth’s voice. And he’s closer than I realized.
Reeling around I crouch, gun at the ready. Less than twenty feet from me Seth is swiftly approaching. Either he doesn’t see the gun or is just stupid.
“Stop, Seth. I’ll only warn you once.”
Something in my voice convinces him and he comes up short. “Now I know you’re not a Shiner,” he says with some amusement. “Shiner’s don’t give warnings. I tried to tell my dad something was off, but he wouldn’t listen. What are you doing, Alex?”
