“This isn’t the time for one of your lectures.”
“I’m serious, Nadia.”
“No shit this is serious. I’m the one getting electrocuted and thrown into some goddamn cell! And why the hell did they take me to the male prison? Do they read blanks as men now?” My mind suddenly jumped back to the moment the Sweeper dragged me off the streets and the memory of Annie’s scream knocked me over. “Annie! Wait, Annie is still out there. I have to go back!”
“She’s fine. Roman and Lisa took her back to the house. She’s been checking in regularly with the therapist. She’s even started on the medication to help numb the memories.”
I slumped down. “She’s already on the drug?”
Doctor Phillips weakly nodded. “Once the first memory appears, the rest are easily triggered. But under the right medication, she’ll have her sequence under control in no time. She should remain as Annie for a while longer.”
“I want to see her. I want to go home.”
“Not this time, Nadia.”
“What? Why not? You’re not seriously keeping me here? Are you punishing me for bailing on my check up?”
“You are to live here from now on. You can’t leave.” He brimmed his lips shut as the words jumbled up inside my head. I couldn’t have heard him right. There was no logical reason as to why I would be locked up in a male blacklisted prison, so he must have been trying to screw with me.
“You know, you have one sick sense of humour.”
“This isn’t a joke! Since I cannot figure out what’s behind your genetic condition—”
“Condition? What condition?” I snarled.
“You don’t have any sequences. There’s nothing there but fog and white static. It’s like you’re a nobody. You have no imprint or reincarnated personalities. After ten years of therapy with you, I still can’t figure out why you’re so different. It’s not my choice but your case has been handed off to the specialist in abnormal and blocked sequences, Doctor Fitzgerald of Alpha prison. He is the best and has been hand chosen by the Elite to study you.”
“The hell I am!” I spat and swiped my hand through the air. “You make it sound like I’m some sort of diseased rat! There’s nothing wrong with me. You can’t keep me here!”
“We don’t know what you are,” Doctor Phillips argued sternly, his brown eyes tightened in his flash of frustration. “That’s the issue. Since the Return, every child is born with an imprint just as every child is born with fingerprints. You’re… you’re not normal.”
“So what, being born different is a criminal offence now?”
“It’s not up to me.” With that, Doctor Phillips pushed off from his knees and rose to a stand. “This is goodbye. I wish you well and success with your future.”
“Wait, wait, wait! Just, hold up for a second.” I held both hands up to block his exit. “You can’t leave me here. I don’t belong with the blacklisted. They’ll tear me apart. I’ll be tortured if you abandon me! What about Roman? And Lisa? Don’t they care where I am?”
“Both of your parents have been informed about the situation and they agree it’s for the best that we proceed with Doctor Fitzgerald.”
“And what about my say?” I added in sharply.
Doctor Phillips pulled his specs down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re the most interesting subject I’ve dealt with. I truly am sorry to see you go, but this is out of my control. This order comes from the Elite.” He stepped back at the sound of the cell door opening. Two human guards stepped up as Doctor Phillips pivoted on his heel and walked out. I went to follow him out but the guards barred me from crossing the threshold. They then stood back behind the metal door before the loud clunk of the lock snapped back.
CHAPTER SIX:
My world spun. Everything felt like it had just shifted off balance and I swayed onto my back foot, hitting my spine against the concrete wall.
This can’t be happening! The sickness climbed up my throat. Oh, fuck! This can’t be happening! I felt like vomiting as I bent over and hugged my head between my knees. There’s no way this could be happening. Panic crept in behind my eyes, soaking through to the rest of my brain until my entire body clenched up in disbelief. What quickly followed was rage.
My knuckles curled. How could they do this to me? So much rage poured into me at once that I staggered for a moment, fists clenched, ready to strike the first thing I saw. A voice called up from across the hall, stilling my hand.
He spoke with a sickly, dry cough that crackled his voice. “You must be pretty important, huh?” I curled my arms around myself and turned away. “Is it true? About your eyes? That you have no imprint?”
“That’s none of your god damn business.”
He snorted. “Interesting, well your secret is safe with me. What’s your name?”
Cautiously, I crept up to the barred window and peeked out. The cell opposite mine was labelled WT35788. I couldn’t see his face only the shift of his shadow as he walked past his window. I sank back onto my bed, unsure what I was going to do to get out of here.
“What’s your name?” the man called again.
I squeezed my lips shut. It wasn’t so much fear that kept me quiet; I didn’t want to feed whatever twisted fantasy he may be conjuring up in his cell. I wouldn’t be here for long, surely. They’ll come for me. They have to.
“Are you scared?” he chuckled, mockingly. From across the room, I heard the shuffle of his footsteps approach his barred window. He slurred his words, taunting me. “You sound scared.”
“And you sound like an asshole,” I snapped automatically.
He merely laughed; a loud croaky laugh that came from deep from his chest. “I’ve been called worse. What’s your name?”
“Get lost.”
“I think I’ll call you, Printless.”
“Whatever! I don’t care; I’m getting out of here soon!” I mumbled when my cell door suddenly unlocked and opened. An armoured robot known as an Enforcer beckoned me out into the hall. Unlike Sweepers that were destined for fast jerky movements, keeping their limbs long and slender, Enforcers were built like ramming machines. It turned to face me head on, where within its thick human-shaped skull, there was nothing but a set of twitching red eyes and a slit for its mouth to speak.
Its broad shoulders almost took up my entire doorway as it stepped closer. There were chips in its armour where prisoners had tried ramming blunt objects against the dome of its head.
It scanned me briefly and made a sharp beeping noise. “Identification invalid.”
“You stupid machine.” A human guard stepped around the Enforcer and reached my cell. “I don’t know what your deal is, but don’t think you’re going to get any special treatment from me. You are to get washed now, the doctor wants to see you.” He then addressed the Enforcer, “Take her to Block C.”
“Don’t you dare touch me!” I grabbed onto my bed as an anchor but the Enforcer yanked me out effortlessly.
It took me by the shoulder and forced me to walk down the narrow passage that cocooned around me. As I was marched down the hall, I saw clearer into the other inmates’ cells. Most of the prisoners were stuffed in constricting straightjackets and bound to their beds like strangled corpses. Others had their fists stuffed inside oven-mitts to stop them from punching the walls and cutting themselves. There were a few men who wore cones, somewhat similar to those given to dogs to stop them from licking wounds, but the most disturbed prisoners were locked in straightjackets that connected the chains to their ankles and wrists. They could barely shuffle or stand; the chains were so short that many prisoners were forced into an uncomfortable slouch for hours on end. The guards kept them short purposely to stop the prisoners from strangling themselves or each other. The ones who were sane enough to not inflict fatal self-harm apparently were allowed to wander the common grounds.
The Enforcer ushered me toward a short, narrow bridge that connected the prison quarters to the main wing. The bridge railings
wrapped around like a cage, completely sealing us in and creaked and rattled as we crossed. Beneath the bridge was the open courts where some of the prisoners wandered aimlessly.
On the other side of the bridge, I walked past the cafeteria and was taken toward the showers. The large bathroom was big enough to shower at least twenty or so men at a single time. There was another human guard waiting for us who overtook escorting me from the Enforcer. I couldn’t see his face behind his helmet as they dressed as though they were about to run into a war zone.
“Showers are to be no longer than three minutes.” His voice muffled through the bulk of his helmet.
Inside, there were just showerheads lined along the wall with a single knob underneath each one. On the other side from the showers were drop holes I could only imagine to be the toilets. There was a single small mirror melted into the front wall but the glass had turned cloudy with oily handprints. Everything felt unnaturally cold as if I was standing in the middle of an underground ice cave.
“Strip,” the guard suddenly barked.
I ground my teeth together. “Let me guess, you’re going to stand there and watch.”
The helmet masked his expression, but I would bet he was smirking. “Strip or I’ll make you strip.” He flashed me the Taser in his belt.
Bitterly, I stomped out from my street clothes and hugged my arms over my naked chest and groin.
“Perv,” I spat at him as he took my clothes and replaced them with the uniform of grey pyjamas. Once he left, I quickly washed myself down in the freezing, brown water that smelt of weak piss and rust. I could only stand being under the cold jet for a minute before I turned the knob off. Still soaking wet and not been given a towel, I dabbed my body dry with the pyjama sleeve and wringed my hair. Despite having their smallest size, the top draped over my body like a large pillow and the bottom of the pant legs bunched up on the ground by my feet. As I stepped up to the mirror, I could already see the stress strain my bloodshot eyes as the colour in my cheeks disappeared.
The next moment, the same guard opened my door again. “Let’s go. Doctor Fitzgerald wants to meet you in the medical bay.”
“And if I refuse?” I growled.
Through the helmet, I could hear the guard chuckling. “You really think you have a choice? Listen here, cupcake, we have ways of turning difficult prisoners into obedient prisoners. Believe me; you don’t want to be a difficult prisoner.”
I knew when to pick my battles, and this wasn’t one of those times. Reluctantly, I followed the guard to the medical bay at the very end of the building with its own private wing. Inside the office, the entire room was doused in a warm yellow light, a complete change from the stained grey from the rest of the rooms. I eased inside, quickly taking notice of the technician’s chair in the centre of the room just below the robotic crane nailed to the roof. The man I assumed was the doctor was by his desk, head down with a small drill working into an electronic board. He pushed back his chair and promptly stood.
“Miss Nadia Richards? Please, come in.” He then addressed the guard waiting behind my shoulder. “Thank you, Peters. That’ll be all.”
The guard nudged me further inside before securing the door behind me. I promptly crossed my arms as I caught the scent of melted metal wafting from his work desk. His entire office was in a clatter of old machine parts and oil spills.
“What the hell type of doctor are you supposed to be?”
“An excellent one,” he answered with a light, self-assured chuckle.
I shifted my weight onto my other foot. My tone remained sharp and annoyed, “You do know doctors don’t work on machines, right?”
“Don’t let all this junk confuse you. It’s just a hobby. I’ve been a practician for the past four hundred and thirty-five years.” He then shrugged. “Give or take a few decades.” The doctor must’ve only been about thirty years old judging by the thick mop of brown hair and smooth palms, but that large year count must mean he had been reincarnated as a doctor for at least four lifecycles. He adjusted his lenses before gesturing for me to take a seat opposite him. “Please sit. I’m Doctor Fitzgerald and I’ll be looking after you from now on.”
I reluctantly took the seat but kept my arms firmly crossed. My lips curled distastefully as I spoke. “How much did you pay them?”
“Pardon?”
“Lisa and Roman, my parents, how much did you pay them?”
Doctor Fitzgerald leaned forward to clasp his hands together on his desk. “Enough to send Annie to a nice school in the Elite district and coupons to buy them food for the next few winters. That’s not forgetting the extra dosage to help young Annie with her transition.”
I readjusted myself in my seat; they obviously knew I had a soft spot for Annie and were using bribery to buy my cooperation. “I’ve never known an upper class to keep his end of the deal, but I guess there’s always a first time. So, what am I doing here exactly?”
“It’s rather simple. You’ve been born with a defective imprint and I want to figure out how and why.” Doctor Fitzgerald reached below into the drawers and brought out a small microchip. He then plugged the chip into the monitor screen to where folders containing all of my personal information appeared. My picture popped up and took up half of the screen. It must’ve been taken at least five years ago judging by the youthful soft curve of my cheeks. Next to it were more recent snaps from the cameras hidden around the city. I leaned forward to see clearer. In all of them, I appeared to be always snarling.
“You’ve been watching me?”
“You’re an interesting case. According to Doctor Phillips, you’ve never expressed any memories from previous lives. What astounds me is your lack of imprint. Everyone from the day they are born carry with them an imprint of their soul in their irises. The mark is unique and can’t be copied. You are the first human since the Return who’s been born without a soul imprint.”
I growled over the top of him. “If you only wanted to talk about the soul imprint, then why did you drag me to this hell hole?”
“We’re not stupid. We know that the moment you caught wind of a transfer you would’ve skipped town, and we couldn’t have that, now, could we?” he explained calmly. “You have a bit of a reputation for running off. But regardless if you came willingly or if we had to pluck you out of the gutters, you were always going to be transferred to Alpha prison. My machines are more high tech than those at normal technicians. I made them myself.”
“And how long do you plan on keeping me locked up exactly?”
“Only a short while, a year at least.”
I shot up in my seat. “You can’t keep me here for a year! That’s bullshit! Don’t I have rights?”
“Not without an imprint you don’t. According to our system, you’re not even a real person.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“All humans have a soul imprint; no soul imprint means no human rights. You are property of the Alpha Elite.” He grinned as he leaned back into his chair. “Until such time I have no further use of you, you will remain here.”
“You know what, screw you!” I kicked back my chair and headed for the door.
As soon as I placed my hand on the knob, a shearing jolt shot down my spine. The impulse clenched my muscles in my back, pulling my shoulders and neck backward before I fell head first into the wall. I then rebounded and collapsed.
“Now, now, Nadia.” The slur of Doctor Fitzgerald’s voice sounded above me. I struggled to turn my head at his approach. “There’s no point in trying to escape. You’ve been fitted with an obi tracking micro-chip; if you disobey or try to run, that chip will incapacitate you.”
I tried to squirm but only managed to choke on my own tongue.
“We can learn a lot from you.” His voice faded as a sheet of darkness peeled over the top of my vision. My eyes fluttered uncontrollably. “Yes, yes you’re going to make everything better.”
CHAPTER SEVEN:
I woke up to a loud bang
ing against my door followed by a burning jolt across my forehead. I sat up gingerly as one of guards stepped up to my window. “Move it! It’s meal time.” He unlocked my door and pulled it to the side.
I made the walk over to the dining hall, shielding my face with my hair at the inmate’s relentless calls. Once out of ear range, I allowed my shoulders to relax. Inside the dining hall, I was served soft rice with bread before making the long walk back to my cell. They gave me enough that I wouldn’t starve but not enough to give me strength to fight. On my walk back, I walked too close to one of the cells. Through the bars, one of the prisoners managed to reach through and grab a handful of my hair. He pulled backward so roughly that my face slammed against his door.
“So soft, I need it for my collection. Red skin, I want your red skin!” he sang with a breath of rotten onion. “Back in the cellar Stacey is screaming. I hate it when she screams. Precious child, beautiful child, STOP LOOKING AT ME!”
Immediately, I clutched onto his fingers trying to pry his grip back, but his meaty wrist was too thick and sweaty to get a proper hold of. One of the guards stepped up and stabbed the inmate on the back of his palm with a pocket-sized Taser, sending a series of electric shocks into his body. His grip seized up and tightened before snapping back. I stumbled out of his hold and rubbed at the roots of my hair. The prisoner then continued to bash his head against the door.
“Lunatic,” the guard grumbled.
I moved backward to get some distance. The man was big and his face was slack with deadened nerves, perhaps from a stroke or too many knocks to the jaw. Not that I was one to defend the blacklisted, but the prisoner was so sick, I’m sure with some medication he wouldn’t be so unstable.
“Jesus! Clearly, you guys haven’t been giving them any D400! Maybe he won’t be so violent if he knew what the hell was going on!” I lectured.
The guard pushed me onwards. “He’s psychotic. Why waste good product on shitbags like that? It’s better just to fry ‘em and let them rot.” He spun me around and pushed me into my cell before the loud bang of the lock snapped into place.
Soulless (The Immortal Gene Trilogy Book 1) Page 5
