Concisus

by Tracy Rozzlynn

  Concisus

  by

  Tracy Rozzlynn

  Copyright © 2012 by Tracy Rozzlynn

  http://TracyRozzlynn.com

  KINDLE EDITION

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  PUBLISHED BY:

  Tracy Rozzlynn

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  * * * * *

  Concisus (kon-SEE-sus), adjective

  A Latin word

  with many meanings,

  mainly: broken, brief, cut up.

  Concisus

  Chapter 1

  Other voices drift our way. We’re home. I should be elated and relieved, but I have mixed emotions. I can’t calm the butterflies in my stomach or shake my feeling of apprehension. So much has happened in the weeks since Ryan and I were caught in the flood. I don’t feel like the same person who left the base. It’s silly, but I worry my friends won’t recognize me anymore.

  A branch crackles under Ryan’s foot and I caution, “We should say something so they know we’re here. We don’t want to surprise them. They might think we’re something that wants to eat them.”

  Ryan nods, cups his hands around his mouth, and belts out a long, “H-e-l-l-o-o-o?”

  “Who’s there?” answers a confused and alarmed voice.

  With a devilish grin, Ryan looks back at me and winks. “You’ll have to see us to believe us,” he yells.

  The group is closer than I thought. We hear their whispered concerns. No one is assigned to the surrounding grid areas. Another team couldn’t possibly be this far off course by accident. In the end, they decide we’re from another team, attempting to poach a discovery from their grid. Understandably, they don’t sound happy.

  Only the crest of the hill we climb separates us. My heart threatens to burst from my chest in anticipation. Ryan and I have dreamt about this moment, but it feels too good to be true—any minute now, something horrible will take it away and leave me completely alone. I force my irrational fears aside, climb the hilltop, and gaze down at the group of surprised scientists and soldiers. I’m thrilled when I see the welcome faces of Molly and Jake among the group.

  The color drains from Molly’s face. “Catch her!” I yell. Jake turns and grasps Molly as she crumples to the ground. The rest of the group freezes and stares up at us. A distant animal cry breaks the uncomfortable silence as Ryan and I descend the hill.

  A burly soldier snaps from his surprised stupor and blocks our path. “Who are you? What are you doing in this quadrant? On whose authority are you here?” With each question, I watch him tighten the grip on his gun holster.

  I find the situation and the soldier’s overly tense and edgy reaction comical, but my inappropriate laughter is not the response he wants.

  In a flash, he unclasps his holster and raises the gun. His hands shake as he screams, “I want answers now!” Automatically, Ryan and I put up our hands. My heart unevenly jerks against my ribs, and for a second, I can’t breathe.

  Jake rushes in front of us. “Austin, relax. It’s okay. I know them. They’re the missing scientists from my team. They’re the ones who were caught in the flashflood.”

  Austin slowly lowers his gun, but continues to eye us. “It looks like they got caught in more than just a flood.” I’m insulted. We look and smell pretty good considering our last hot shower and change of clothes was weeks ago.

  Ryan keeps his hands up, and calmly explains, “We don’t mean any harm, and we certainly didn’t travel all this way just to get shot the instant we say hello. So can we all just try to relax a little bit?”

  Austin only grunts in response, but his shoulders relax. For the moment, I feel confident that he’s not going to shoot us.

  “Austin. Stand down,” a tall pimply-faced guy calls out. Austin tenses again, although the other guy seems oblivious that his command is a day late and a dollar short. Standing straight and puffing out his chest, the guy announces, “I’m Elliot Hughes. And this is my team.” He gestures to everyone around him. He doesn’t bother to walk over and properly introduce himself.

  I nod politely and walk toward Molly. Jake and Ryan follow.

  “We thought you were dead,” Jakes whispers. He is almost as pale as Molly, probably from the tense welcome.

  “Sorry to give you such a shock.” I stare at Jake while my throat tightens. Instinctively I blink back tears but can’t keep them from sliding down my cheeks. Relief spills through my body.

  I’m home.

  Molly wakes and slowly blinks her eyes. I gaze down at her, and she smiles weakly, pale and shaken. A small cry escapes as she asks, “Is it really you?”

  Ryan slides a hand under Molly’s back and helps her sit. “It’s really us,” he confirms in a soft voice.

  Molly bursts into tears, and I hug her.

  Guilt washes across Jake’s face. “How? What happened to you? We thought you were dead. They sent a search party out, but there was no trace of you. They could only go so far before they had to turn around, but they told us you couldn’t have survived. I didn’t believe it at first but as the weeks dragged on—”

  “Stop!” Ryan interjects, effectively ending Jake’s remorseful tirade. “It’s okay. I would have thought the same thing.”

  Jake’s face brightens a bit.

  “What happened to you? How did you survive?” Molly asks as she wipes her tears.

  I smile and squeeze her arm. “It’s a long story. Let’s get back home and I’ll tell you all about it. I promise.”

  Eventually everyone packs up their equipment, and we accompany them toward the base. From the corner of my eye, I catch everyone’s glances. They look confused, as if they don’t know what to make of us, which is understandable. Ryan and I defied the odds. We shouldn’t have survived the flood, and even if anyone assumed we did, no one in their right mind could have expected us to survive for that long in the wilderness without any preparation or supplies. I wasn’t supposed to have any of Andi’s equipment. Her rejected inventions saved our lives. Plus, no one could have anticipated the help we received from Caper.

  So, yeah, I get it. Looking at us is like seeing someone returned from the dead. Still, from their continued gawking, you’d think we’d actually returned as zombies.

  I’d love to run right back to the base and greet all of my friends, but first I need to complete a quarantine at the field hospital that abuts the base.

  Elliot radios ahead to the field hospital but first he walks a good distance away and whispers into the walkie-talkie. I can’t hear all of the conversation, but I catch enough. He makes it sound as though he’s rescued us from the wilderness. His disparaging remarks irritate me, but at least I know Jake’s and Molly’s reports will reflect the truth and won’t claim that we were “wondering the forest calling for help.”

  Chapter 2

  The field hospital is more than ready by the time we arrive. At least a dozen doctors in tight, silver isolation suits are waiting. The suits lack breathing equipment, so I assume it
’s contained in the egg-shaped helmets they wear. The oversized white helmets make the doctors resemble alien bobble heads. I stifle a laugh.

  In quarantine, Ryan and I are immediately separated. I am not happy about it, but I assume it’s necessary, especially when a doctor hands me a paper-thin gown with an open back. I figure a full physical is required, and I’d rather not have my friends, Ryan, or any other non-medical personnel around for that.

  During the physical, and over a dozen other tests, the medical staff takes multiple blood samples, hair samples, skin scrapings and more. After a while, I can’t decide if I feel more like a lab rat or a pincushion. Throughout the poking and prodding, they bombard me with questions, impatient to find out exactly what happened and how we survived. I try to take it all in stride, and remind myself that the doctors have my health and the base’s safety in mind.

  Late afternoon falls by the time all the doctors finish with me. The day’s been more draining than a full day of walking in the wilderness ever was. They finally give me a tray of food and leave me alone in a small windowless room. Dinner is nothing gourmet—a couple of sandwiches and juice. After weeks of eating berries and jerky, I wish they put some effort into dinner, but I take a bite and realize it doesn’t matter. It’s the best tasting peanut butter and jelly I’ve ever had. I devour everything, and then try to drift off to sleep, but sleep refuses to come.

  The harder I try to sleep the more anxious I feel. Something’s wrong. I hunt around the room and finally discover the time on one of the plugged-in monitors. Almost sunset. Early for anyone else, but for Ryan and me, it’s bedtime. I try fluffing the pillow, which doesn’t help. I ditch the pillow all together. Oh. I know what’s missing. Like my current room, the igloo didn’t have windows, but I could hear all the nighttime wildlife and feel the heat of Ryan’s arms around me and the soft caress of his breath on my neck. I can’t sleep without those things.

  I slip out of bed and try the door, but find it locked. A helmet appears in the small window of the door. “Do you need something?”

  “I just wanted to visit my friend and see how he’s doing.”

  The helmet shakes back and forth. “Sorry, you’re to remain in your room, doctor’s orders.”

  I know the base’s safety is a priority, but locking me in my room is a little excessive. The quarantine area of the building is separated into self-contained wings with doors that only open on the base side of their exit. Unless I plan to run back into the wilderness, I’m not going anywhere.

  In the morning, the doctors resume their tests. Some of the tests, like an IQ and an inkblot test, seem wonky, but I play along with them.

  Kevin, the lead doctor, enters and relentlessly questions me. I reiterate everything about my time stranded in the woods and then continue to answer all of his redundant questions. He demands to know about every unknown plant, animal, and terrain Ryan and I might have encountered. I quickly tire of repeating myself.

  “Look, I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve told you everything I remember. No matter how many times I retell it, it’s not going to change.”

  Kevin cracks a smile. “Not everyone can have a good memory. It might help if you list everything you ate in order, giving a detailed description of what it looked and tasted like, and how you felt afterward.” His condescending tone doesn’t make me feel like talking. I have little respect for people like my former best friend Jenna, people who need to bully and belittle others to feel better about themselves. Besides, I’ve told him everything possible.

  Well, almost everything.

  I feel protective of Caper. He helped Ryan and I survive, safeguarding his food source is the very least I can do for him. So I intentionally glaze over the details of the opal berries and minimize his involvement in our survival. I admitted a meerkit removed the seeds that infected Ryan’s hand, but as far as anyone knows, we found edible fruits and berries by watching the eating habits of various animals in the area.

  Kevin sighs and taps his foot. The bright fluorescent lights hurt my eyes, and the barrage of questions leave me feeling as battered and bruised as my arms where the repeated attempts to draw blood have failed. I feel the pressure of Kevin’s gaze on me, waiting for an answer.

  I throw up my hands. “I can’t give you what you want. We weren’t out on a field expedition. I was more concerned with survival than the details of what we encountered.” Kevin narrows his eyes and huffs. I’m out of patience. “This is ridiculous—where’s Dr. Wickerham?” I demand.

  Kevin’s crooked lips grimace. In a tone that states, Everyone should know this, he replies, “Field managers don’t enter quarantine areas.”

  “Then you can convey the message for me. Tell Dr. Wickerham I’ve finished answering questions because I’ve reported everything I know.” I cross my arms and clamp my mouth shut.

  Kevin leans close and I see the specks of green in his dark hazel eyes. I shiver when his cold, gloved hand comes up to rest on my arm. Loud enough for only me to hear, he says, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your tests. Things would be much easier if you cooperate.”

  I refuse to appear intimidated, so I match his glare. His mouth curls in a snarl before he turns and storms away. He pauses at the door. “You can continue collecting your samples,” I sigh, relieved to not deal with him any longer, but then the remaining doctors descend with their vials and needles.

  To ease the lingering tension, I joke with the doctors. At first, they tease and joke back, but as the day progresses, more and more of them ignore me as they go about their work. I’m annoyed, but I give them the benefit of the doubt—I’m not familiar with the isolation suits. The helmets limit the wearer’s vision, and I wonder if they need to press a button or something in order to hear me, which is hard to do with both hands busy.

  By the next morning, my patience has worn thin. When Gina, one of the doctors, wordlessly attaches electrodes to my forehead, I wave my hand in front her helmet. “Hello?” I call. Gina jumps back and holds up her hands defensively. Immediately the soldier positioned by the door steps between us. Jeez. I feel bad for frightening her, but the soldier’s reaction was uncalled for, as if I’d attempted to hit Gina.

  Locking eyes with Gina I explain, “I just wanted to get an explanation of what you’re doing.” The soldier steps back and Gina silently resumes her work.

  I’m miserable. The doctors continue taking their samples and running their tests in silence. After a few ignored hellos, I remain silent and watch everyone work. I am alarmed because they seem tense and worried. They only speak to dole out directions, and the way they handle me is both guarded and rough.

  I know something is wrong. They must have found an anomaly in their initial tests. Am I sick? Did I bring something back that’s contagious?

  I tell myself I’m overreacting and that the doctors are merely cautious, but another rough jab in my arm quickly ruins that train of thought. He’s not the first doctor to miss my vein, but he’s certainly the farthest from the target. I could have done a better job with my eyes closed. He didn’t even angle the needle properly.

  “What the heck?” I growl and pull out the needle before it can do more damage.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles and turns to get a fresh needle.

  I open my mouth to argue against a second attempt, but then I get a good glimpse of his face. No wonder he’s so bad with a needle. He’s not a doctor but a fellow scientist, Dan. Something is seriously wrong if scientists are running tests on me. I motion for Dan’s attention, but he is suddenly blind as well as deaf. I catch hold of his arm and force him to look at me. The soldier at the door tenses but doesn’t intervene.

  “What is going on?” I demand. My voice is calm, but inside I’m screaming, as my fears threaten to push me over the edge of all reason.

  Dan’s eyes widen and his mouth flaps open like a trout. “I…I…I gotta go.” He rips his arm out of my grasp and dashes from the room.

  I pace the room. The well-armed soldier never bre
aks his watchful stare. His stance is as tense as Austin’s was when he first met me in the woods. When I quickly clasp my gown to keep it from showing too much, he raises his gun.

  “Maybe instead of threatening me you can tell me what’s going on?” I say. He eyes me suspiciously and slowly lowers the gun, but remains silent. I go from freaked to panicked. I’m not being treated like a patient or even a curiosity, but as a dangerous criminal. I don’t feel sick, and I haven’t been back at the base long enough to infect anyone.

  Ryan.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he was sick and tried to hide it from me.

  I ask everyone who enters about Ryan. I plead to see him or beg for assurance that he’s okay, but everyone dodges my questions. A few tell me not to worry but I sense their words are merely a brush off. Most pretend not to hear me. Desperate, I curl myself up and refuse to allow any more testing until I get some answers.

  Answers don’t come.

  Instead, half a dozen isolation suits pin me to the hospital bed, while one straps bright blue restraints on my wrists and ankles. When I continue to fight, Kevin threatens to drug me to continue the tests. I’m tempted to call his bluff; I figure whatever drugs they use could potentially taint their test results, but in the end, common sense rules out. I pretend to be calm.

  “Can you please just tell me if Ryan’s okay?” I plead.

  The cruel glint in Kevin’s eyes makes me cringe. “Maybe, if you behave.” He winks before he turns and leaves the room. I swear I hear him snicker as he walks down the hall.

  I can’t believe any doctor would treat a patient this way, but Kevin’s not a real doctor; none of them are. Like me, they received all their knowledge during cryogenic sleep, but knowledge can’t replace experience and it certainly doesn’t add maturity. Dr. Wickerham, the field manager, is the only legitimately trained doctor and one of the few colonists older than twenty, but she’s not in quarantine.