They continued down the hallway and burst into the full light of the City. Mykl wished he had sunglasses. He raised his hand to block the glare coming from high above. “Is that sunlight?” he asked.
“Not exactly. They try to emulate the relative brightness and path of the sun to keep our bodies in a normal circadian rhythm.” Heather pointed to the long strips running from east to west above them. “Physics aren’t my specialty, but they use some type of superconductor to gather light from the fusion reactors.”
Mykl’s mind latched on to the impossible word. He grabbed Heather’s arm to stop her. “Fusion?”
“Jack will give you a tour later. He’s better at explaining things. And I wouldn’t want to steal his thunder.” She gave him a wink. “Here’s our cart. It’s just a short jaunt to the end of the block.”
James bumped his head on the cart’s top as he ducked into the back seat. Mykl hopped in next to Heather, on the verge of a meltdown with curiosity. He pivoted back and forth, wishing his head could turn 360 degrees to take in all the sights. James sat stock-still, moving only his eyes and gripping the cart’s hand rail so hard that his fingers were white.
“What’s wrong, James?” Mykl asked.
“No doors,” he whispered.
“The cart?”
James nodded.
“We’re barely moving!” Mykl exclaimed. “You could run faster than this, silly.”
But James maintained his death grip on the rail.
Except for a peculiar sheen, and a subtle rounding of the edges, the architecture they passed was much like one would find in any urban area. The buildings cast fuzzy multiple shadows due to the irregular lighting.
“How many people live here?” Mykl asked.
“Several thousand,” Heather gave him an indecipherable look, “but it varies.”
The combination of the strange look and an inflection in her voice ignited Mykl’s internal wariness. He wanted to probe, but he figured he’d have better luck getting answers from Jack.
The cart came to a stop, and Heather said cheerfully, “We’re here.”
Mykl cringed. He was not looking forward to going to the infirmary. If this doctor pulls out anything resembling a corkscrew, I’m out of here. Five-inch-thick diamond barriers or not, I am gone.
The door to the building had no handle, but Heather touched an indentation in the door where a handle would normally be, and the door slid open under its own power. Mykl chuckled. Every futuristic movie and television show he ever watched had self-opening doors. Then again, why not?
The room they entered looked nothing like a doctor’s waiting area; it was more like a homey living room. Plush couches and chairs surrounded a low stone table. Fresh flowers, glasses, and a pitcher of water sat atop the table. A trace scent of long-gone cookies made it even smell like a home.
“Have a seat, boys. I’ll let Dr. Lee know you’re here.”
Mykl climbed onto one of the oversized armchairs. James flopped in the middle of a couch and began lightly bouncing on the springy cushion. Mykl made a strangled sound in the back of his throat to get his attention and shook a warning finger at him. James tossed back an oft-used “I never get to have any fun” pout.
This homey setting didn’t fool Mykl. He knew an arsenal of ice-cold stethoscopes and gleaming silver needles stalked this building, ready to prey on innocent children. Anxiety caused his puncture wound to itch. James, meanwhile, settled into a body-rocking, head-bobbing routine that he often used to battle boredom.
Footsteps clicked ever louder as they approached. A petite woman with Asian features stormed up to them with an aura of confidence and energy. She wore her hair in a straight black ponytail that fell in stark contrast to the white lab coat billowing behind her. Her infectious smile caused Mykl to release the breath he had been holding.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she said. “I’m Dr. Lee, but you can call me Cindy. How are we all doing today?”
Before Mykl could respond, James stammered, “J-James goods, how Dawns?”
Dr. Lee’s smile became forced as she sat in a chair between them. She clasped her hands prayer-like in front of her. “Dawn is in another facility having more tests done. We’re trying to find out why she’s having headaches; we’ll know more when the results get back in.”
Neither boy wished to inquire further about what Dr. Lee chose not to tell.
After allowing them a moment, she asked, “So, who wants to be first?”
Mykl and James pointed at each other so fast she burst into laughter. “Okay, you first then, Mykl. I want to have a look at that leg wound of yours, since you already seem to be able to,” she raised her thin eyebrows at him, “run on it.”
I knew it! Heather tattled on me. All Jack said he needed to do was keep his room clean, and he had left that a mess as well. He would almost rather get a shot than be in trouble with Jack. Almost.
Dr. Lee led him into an examination room that precisely matched his expectations. She touched a corner of the exam bed, and it lowered to an easy height for Mykl to climb on. For all its cold, antiseptic look, the bed radiated a pleasing warmth.
“You’re going to have to remove the PJs, Mykl.”
Mykl grumbled and complied. Some people couldn’t be bargained with, and doctors were the worst.
He was as surprised as Dr. Lee when he exposed his wound. All that remained of it was a small scab that looked close to falling off. Dr. Lee raised the bed and palpated the area around the scab.
“Does this hurt?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Hmmmmm.”
“Is that a good hmmm or a bad hmmm?”
“It’s always good when a patient isn’t in pain, but that was more of a ‘This is interesting' hmmm,” she said. “And this injury occurred yesterday evening?”
“Yep.” Mykl tensed. She was getting that “I’m going to have to give you a shot” look.
“I’d like to get a blood sample from you, Mykl.”
Sometimes it was a curse to be able to read people so well.
“I need a single drop from a fingertip,” she said, turning to remove a tiny cylindrical device from a recessed cabinet. “This has a microneedle which only penetrates the dermis enough to allow for blood collection. It will be no worse than a mosquito bite—but without the itching afterwards.”
He reluctantly extended a middle finger, and she held the end of a collector to it. In the center of the collector was a vial filled with a clear fluid. She pressed a button on the collector, and Mykl detected the barest hint of pressure. A thin crimson ribbon swirled into the fluid.
“All done,” she said, setting the sample to the side. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
Mykl critically inspected the puncture site by running his thumb over it. No blood, no pain. “Not so bad,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t want to give the impression that more puncturing of his skin would be acceptable. Microneedle or otherwise.
After enduring the standard palpations and auscultations, Mykl submitted to a full body scan in an adjoining lab. It didn’t take long.
Dr. Lee jotted a few notes as Mykl put his pajamas back on. “That’s all for today,” she said. “Would you bring James back for me, please?”
“Sure. But fair warning: he doesn’t like needles any more than I do,” Mykl said.
***
James had switched positions on the couch so he could watch for Mykl’s return. Concern painted his face as Mykl approached.
“Dr. Cindy lady nice?” he asked.
“Yeah, for a doctor, she’s as nice as they come.”
“No shotses?” James wrung his hands with worry.
“No shotses,” Mykl repeated. Even James should be able to handle a mosquito bite.
It took some coaxing to get James into the examination room, and once inside, he seemed to shrink in upon himself in half-contained fear. He didn’t even look at Dr. Lee.
“Mykl stays?”
“Sure
, James. If it will make you feel better.”
Dr. Lee patted the exam bed. “Hop on up, James, and take your pajama top off, please?”
How James could get so entangled in so simple a garment as a pajama top in such a short time was one of life’s great mysteries. It took both Mykl’s and Dr. Lee’s help to remove it. But finally, James took his place on the exam bed. Mykl gasped in shock at the ghastly looping scars crisscrossing his friend’s back. They had all healed long ago, except for the angry red parallel scratches running diagonally from shoulder to hip.
“James, how did you get all these scars?” Dr. Lee asked sympathetically.
“Accidents,” James replied in a barely audible whisper.
Mykl had never seen James with his shirt off before. The notes in James’s asylum file had said that a police officer had found him wandering the Las Vegas Strip, but they made no mention of the obvious abuse he had suffered in the past. Mykl felt the greatest pity for him. At least I knew love from my mother. It’s no wonder James sought out the company of me and Dawn. We’re likely the only friends he’s ever known.
“And these fresh scratches?” Dr. Lee gently ran a finger along the scabby border of one.
James arched his back away from her touch. “Fences,” he said, slumping his shoulders again.
Mykl stared at his socks. “Dr. Lee,” he said, “those scratches are about the right spacing if he tore the bottom of the quad fence from the asphalt and squeezed under it. He did it to save me. And in doing so, he saved Dawn too—though he couldn’t have known that.” It would have taken a great deal of strength and determination, but Mykl had no doubt about what James had done. All in an effort to save his friend from the Angel. His memory of the rest of James’s part in the rescue still remained fuzzy.
“Is that what happened, James?” Dr. Lee asked.
James gave a weak nod.
She squeezed his hand. “You did good, James, you did good.”
James smiled at her.
“Unfortunately,” she added, “you’re going to need a tetanus shot like the one Mykl had to get yesterday.”
His smile melted into a frown.
Mykl jumped up to grab his friend’s arm. “It’s okay, James. It’s really not that bad.”
***
Several crocodile tears and a dozen pokes and prods later, they were allowed to go. Dr. Lee had given them both a clean bill of health and a follow-up appointment to see her again in a week, and Heather took them back to their rooms to get dressed before seeing Jack. Mykl figured if news of their morning antics didn’t make it to Jack’s desk, then they should have an enjoyable tour of the City. He hoped so: his questions had been growing at an exponential rate.
Besieged by a closet full of new clothes, Mykl experienced a never-before-faced problem: What do I wear? Every piece of clothing he touched rated far superior to anything he had ever worn in the Box. Making a decision, he tossed his pajamas on the unmade bed. If someone thinks I look good in navy blue PJs, he thought, then I should do fine with the same color scheme in slacks and shirt. Another thought struck him as he slipped a foot into a new shoe. If they have clothes and shoes in my size, then there must be other children here. But where were they? He hadn’t seen any kids since his arrival. He added that to his list of questions for Jack.
“You ready, James?” Mykl called out before he stepped in to collect his friend. James was sitting on the carpet, enthusiastically tying knots in his long new shoelaces. Mykl’s first instinct was to rush forward and stop him; his second was to cover his eyes. James’s blue pants, yellow shirt, and crooked lime green tie created a walking color-combination nightmare.
“Looks goods?” James asked.
“Looks great. I wouldn’t change a thing. Now let’s go.” Mykl pantomimed an ushering motion to get James moving.
“Not finishes,” James mumbled. He continued tying knots.
Mykl growled deep in his throat and stared at the moving dots on the ceiling. Those knots were going to be a royal pain to untie later.
“You sounds likes kitteh,” James said.
“Done?”
“One mores.” James fastidiously looped the last two inches of his laces and pulled with all his might. “Dones!” he said proudly.
Mykl shook his head in frustration as he led James down the hall. He thought he might make a special request to Jack to equip James with laceless shoes.
Dawn’s room was still empty. He would just have to fill her in on their tour when they got back. She would enjoy that. He just hoped these people could find a way to fix her headaches.
CHAPTER 30
New voices, low and concerned, spiraled around Dawn’s dark world. A vile-tasting film coated her tongue. The monster wielding a sledge hammer behind her eyes tired and began to clench and unclench its fists in the folds of her brain.
“Are you back with us?” a female voice asked.
“Where am I?”
“You were brought to the infirmary here at the City. I’m Dr. Lee. We met earlier. Can you tell me what happened?”
That explained the firmness of the padding under her and the antiseptic overtones in the air.
“Another headache.” Dawn furrowed her brows against the pain. “I get them all the time. This was one of the worst though.” She ran her tongue around her mouth. “May I have some water please?”
Dawn stiffened as Dr. Lee gently laid a hand on her forehead. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you have anything to drink yet. That taste in your mouth is from a sublingual spray. Your blood pressure was exceedingly high for someone your age. The spray was a temporary measure to reduce it.”
“Temporary?” Dawn asked. She was certainly not looking forward to more doses of the offensive spray.
“Really, don’t worry,” Dr. Lee said. “I’m sorry about the taste. We’ll get you all the water you need after we finish our tests.”
Dawn’s first instinct was to ask if the tests were going to hurt, but then she decided they couldn’t be worse than what she had already experienced. Breathing through her teeth, she steeled herself and said, “Okay, test away.”
Every minute bang and clatter made Dawn twitch involuntarily. Apparently noticing her advanced discomfort, Dr. Lee asked, “On a scale of one to ten—”
“Eleven!” Dawn interrupted. “Sorry.”
“Not to worry, dear. We’ll start an IV and give you something for the pain.” Dr. Lee squeezed her hand, and Dawn forced a smile through gritted teeth.
Within seconds of receiving the painkiller, the tension in Dawn’s body dissolved. The pain retreated farther and farther into the dark distance… though the monster still lurked in the shadows.
***
Dr. Lee ran a phalanx of tests. She was an agent of the City because she was honest, skilled, thorough—and she cared. Everything came up negative, until data from Dawn’s brain scan arrived. She seethed with anger at the results. She wanted to strangle whoever had diagnosed Dawn in the past. They might as well have been guilty of murder.
***
Dawn drifted like a raft riding swells in a calm ocean. Her gurney gently rolled to and fro, raised and lowered with utmost care, and spun with smooth precision. She knew only that she was alone in a room with a closed door. A swishy-sounding door at that. The medication coursing through had made her loopy, but it had also made her headache tolerable. The pain she felt now, she could live with.
The weird-sounding door swished, and Dawn opened her eyes. Heels stepped inside, paused, and made nimble clicks away from her. There was a soft sliding noise, and then the footsteps returning to her side. Air slowly whispered from the cushion on the stool as Heels sat down.
Dawn lacked the ability to read body language or facial expression, but she excelled at interpreting environmental nuances—and right now, she sensed that something was terribly wrong. Heels had not said a word yet. Her breathing was forced and irregular. Dawn wanted to run in panic.
“Dawn…”
Dawn turned he
r face to Dr. Lee and waited. Her heart began pounding. The monster was coming.
“I have the results of your tests,” Dr. Lee said, her voice just above a whisper. “Your headaches—and your blindness—are not, nor have they ever been, a result of some childhood disease or malnutrition. You have a tumor. You have had it for quite some time. It appears to have started in the occipital region of your brain. It has grown. Like an amoeba, it has sent tendrils through your visual cortex and into the rest of your brain. Its originating location is the cause of your blindness. Its growth is the cause of your headaches.”
Dr. Lee took a slow breath. “The tumor is inoperable… and malignant. Our test show that the cancer has spread to your lymph system and organs. The headaches will get worse. Eventually, you will start to lose motor control, and your organs will begin to shut down. At the tumor’s current rate of progression, you have about sixty days before you will no longer be able to maintain consciousness.”
The monster was in the room. And it was a coward that fed in the dark. Dawn now knew its goal: to convert Dawn into the same insidious creature—a mindless, blind blob—from the inside out. But there was one very important distinction between her and her killer: Dawn was no coward.
“May I have that drink of water now, please?” Dawn asked.
CHAPTER 31
Perched on a ledge near the cavern’s entrance was the City information center, where Jack’s home and office stood. Its cantilevered foundation extended outward to create a deck with spectacular panoramic views of the community below. None of the City’s buildings were more than two stories in height, and their white dome-shaped roofs gave the appearance of squat mushrooms. Evergreen trees, interspersed among the polished domes, softened the alien feel of the landscape. Artificial sunlight glinted off what appeared to be a lake far beyond the City proper.
Mykl stood on a bench to see over the deck railing. He held on to one of James’s arms, not for his own support but for James, who was afraid of heights. Heather had dropped them off, and her cart grew smaller as it wound its way down the serpentine road from the ledge.
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