I barely slept that night. For hours, I listened to the inmates’ panicked shouting and curdled sadistic shrieks. And the screaming, oh, my God, there was so much screaming. The nightmares that plagued the men could only be passed for torture. I couldn’t sleep even if I succumbed to the itchy sting from my burning eyes. I curled in on myself in the depth of the darkness and I finally allowed my body to shrivel in. Running my fingers across my neck, I searched for the chip planted inside me. Near the first bump of my spinal cord, a quick pinch of pain hit me. I had been cut there, and recently too. But I couldn’t locate where the chip was embedded under my skin; it was too small for my fingers to detect. Frustrated, I dropped my hands and buried my face. Finally, I understood. I’m not leaving this place.
Morning rose, and with it, my head burned with fatigue. I pulled myself up at the clink of my cell opening. A guard stood by my door to let me out.
I was escorted back to Doctor Fitzgerald’s lab while most of the prisoners remained locked up in their rooms. As I walked past, there was a strong, humid stench of fresh and rotten sewage coming from their cells, it left a wet residue on my skin. I held my breath to stop myself from gagging.
As soon as I reached Doctor Fitzgerald’s door, he welcomed me in. His office felt smaller as I stepped inside, with the clatter of his projects multiplied along the walls and overtook most of his desk. I caught him just as he was taking his medicine as he popped the bright blue pill into his mouth and swallowed hard.
“Morning, I hope you slept well.” He took a quick mouthful of water before ushering me in. “Today, I just want to ask you a few questions.”
I pulled my arms free from his grip. Yeah, right, as if I would trust him. He seemed to sigh as if I was some dim-witted kid trying to weasel out of eating my vegetables. “You know, the sooner we talk, the sooner this will be over.”
“You’ll never get a peep out me as long as I’m trapped here.”
“Be smart, Nadia. You don’t have a lot of options. Do as I say and I’ll make sure none of the other prisoners get a hold of you.”
“You can’t threaten me,” I challenged. “As you said before, I’m property. You send me out there I could die and you’ll never get your answers. I’m too valuable to risk.”
“Don’t be so sure,” he corrected. The flash in his brown eyes appeared cold as his lips curled. “I can still do my research on a corpse.”
“Then you just have to kill me.” I crossed my arms defiantly.
“You really think a death out there would be quick? You have the country’s deadliest prisoners as your cell mates. These men have spent almost a century locked up, denied a woman’s touch or even the smallest of pleasures. You think they’ll tear you apart quickly? No, they’ll peel you apart piece by piece, slowly and painfully.”
I leaned forward with a cruel smirk of my own, able to feel how my eyes tightened in challenge. “And when they’re done I’ll tell them to stomp on my face and cut up my eyes so you can’t use them.”
“Fine. Have it your way.” Doctor Fitzgerald threw his hands up in defeat. He took me by the elbow and returned me to the door. “If you’re so sure that’s what you want, then that can be arranged.”
Wait… My face scrunched as Doctor Fitzgerald opened the door and handed me out to the guard outside. I stumbled off balance. He’s bluffing, right?
“Take her out to the courts.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
He looked down at me but I held my face firm, he has to be bluffing. Doctor Fitzgerald smiled, “If she lasts the hour, bring her back-”
“No wait!” I grabbed the frame of the door as the guard took my arm, turning me away. The doctor lifted his hand to stall the guard before looking down at me smugly, waiting for me to beg. I didn’t say anything and mentally scolded myself for being so cowardly. I dropped my head feeling both embarrassed and ashamed.
“Are you going to cooperate?” He asked and I bitterly nodded. “Use your words.”
He was so god damn condescending, I almost wanted to take myself out to the courtyard. Without separating my teeth, I growled, “fine.”
He nodded at the guard as I stepped back into the room. Doctor Fitzgerald secured the door behind us. “With little training, you’ll understand what’s best for you.”
My heart pulled against my body, the weight of my rage turning my insides to stone. Belittled, I walked back to the office chair and sat down with a loud thump. “What the hell do you really want with me? There must be a reason why the Elite would go to so much trouble over something so trivial?”
“Don’t worry yourself about the details; let’s just start from the beginning.” He sat down at his desk and brought up my files again.
I twisted my lips. “Don’t you have all my information from Doctor Phillips already?”
“The basics, yes, like your birth year, genetic history and some trivial records.” He thumbed through the charts with his chin poised in his hand. “Like this for instance, when you were seven years old, they took you in to see Doctor Phillips for the first time. Originally, he figured you were just a late bloomer, but now you’re in your twentieth year, there’s some unusual signs we have to address.” He scrolled further down the page, entering a red coded area of my medical records. “There’s nothing wrong with you physically, good heart, healthy organs and active brain function. Quite smart too, despite your failing grades. High school dropout I see.”
I shrugged. “I don’t do so well with authority figures.”
“I can see. Seventy-six counts of vandalism too. Guess it was only a matter of time before you ended up here anyway.” He looked down at me through the top of his glasses.
“Spray painting isn’t exactly the same as mass murder.”
“They all start off with small crimes; it’s more of a personality trait we look out for. So, when you sleep, do you have dreams?”
“Sometimes.”
“And in these dreams?”
I sighed and slumped further into my chair. “I’m always me, Nadia. I’ve gone through this a thousand times before with Phillips.”
“What about your parents? Tell me how do you feel about them?” Doctor Fitzgerald reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He then typed some codes into the keyboard as the phone blinked white and started recording. I shifted in my seat with an uncomfortable cough.
“I don’t feel anything toward them. Lisa only cares about her stupid coupons and she’s really anal about curfew. Roman tried to act like some half-decent father figure but I could tell he didn’t really care about us.”
“And your sister, Annie? How does Annie make you feel?”
I paused on the thought, feeling the rush of anxiety in my stomach. I gulped quickly. “I dunno.”
“Just try and think.”
“Geez, I don’t know, normal I guess.” I curled my arm around my stomach to settle the nerves.
“You’re a smart girl. Use your words.”
“Fine. I feel… anxious, like when she doesn’t listen to me and runs off. Sometimes I’m mad at Lisa and Roman for how they talk to her like she’s a burden on them.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I’m mad that we can’t just walk outside without carrying a loaded gun. I can’t protect her. I can’t change anything. It’s just hopeless.”
He stopped typing to look at me; I mean really look at me. Anger swelled up. “What?” I barked.
“Hopeless?” he repeated as I drew my lips into my mouth. His eyebrow perked. “So you’re protective of Annie. Why?”
“She’s my sister,” I immediately answered. I shifted back in my chair to face him head on. “I know sister doesn’t mean much to others, but I’ve watched her grow up. I’ve witness her tantrums and her joy. She’s the only person who actually cares about someone else other than themselves. No one else will protect her, so I will.”
“All children carry with them the sense of dependency,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “As she grows that part of her will fade.”
I inched forward in my chair. “I don’t believe we were always like this. I think it’s from the detachment from having too many people in our heads. If they had more of the D400, it could help numb all of their past memories. They wouldn’t change…”
“In such short supply, the D400 is distributed as evenly as possible. Some people get bigger portions depending on their status and importance to society. Pumping every child with the drug will only cause disruption among the more valuable citizens.”
My face snarled, aka the rich get more while everyone else suffers. I leaned forward to argue when a loud beep sounded from the computer. Doctor Fitzgerald promptly grabbed his phone and stopped the recording. “Excuse me, Nadia; I have an important call to take.” He stood and gestured for me to leave. I stood up on shaky legs. Geez, I didn’t realise I was this unstable.
He walked me to the door and opened it to an Enforcer patrolling the halls. “Unit, return this prisoner to her cell block Q78X.” He then disappeared behind his closed door.
The Enforcer took me back toward the bridge that led to my cell. Similar to yesterday, I showered on my own and ate on my own. When it reached 11 o’clock that night, I was still awake and pacing my cell. I had yet to become accustomed to the groaning of my cellmates but it was a better sleep than the night before. The screams that came from them was something I’d never heard before. Even with Mr Rodger’s, whose disturbed mumblings could carry down the streets, he had never screamed like this. Nothing so raw or desperate. Nothing so chillingly scared and enraged at the same time. As I finally put my head down on the stiff mat of my bed, I heard that same raspy breath of the prisoner WT35788 chanting, “The song of madmen drives away the pain. The mothers and brothers all dance in the flames. When I wake and the memories are gone, I will be dying. I will be home.”
I turned over and clamped my palms to my ears. His chuckling was by far the worst.
In the morning, I was yet again woken by the click of my cell door being opened. As I walked into the corridor, that same smell of sterile pee and coagulating sewage hit me again. The prisoners were in their same soiled rags. I dry retched and clasped my hand to my mouth.
“Can’t you do something about that smell?” I asked frustrated.
Beneath the mask of his helmet, the guard chuckled. “Why? I can’t smell anything under here.” He then took in a big breath. “In fact, I think it smells kind of nice.”
I scowled under my hand and hurried along. Again, it appeared the prisoners weren’t being allowed out, the ones in straightjackets were still tied to their beds in the same sheets as they were in yesterday. If they weren’t blacklisted serial killers, I may have felt sorry for them. The guard escorted me across the barricaded bridge and toward the medical bay. Once inside Doctor Fitzgerald’s office, I noticed the room was even messier than yesterday. He seemed to be working more and more on these little ‘projects’ of his.
“Finally, we can begin.” Skipping the morning greetings, Doctor Fitzgerald pulled me in by my elbow.
On the side of the office, a projection screen of a senior officer took up half the wall. I couldn’t recognise who it was under the dim lighting. He wore the uniform of an Elite class with his name stitched into the breast pocket, McKinnon. I inwardly gasped. In school, we were taught about the Elites and their infamous histories, and Elite McKinnon was one of the top three most influential men. Why he was here watching me through a projection screen, I couldn’t understand. As I was moved across the room, Elite McKinnon’s darkened eyes followed me underneath the brim of his cap. “So, this is the one?” he asked in a static voice. “She doesn’t look like the others.”
“What’s going on?” I asked. Doctor Fitzgerald went to guide me toward the technician’s chair in the centre of the room but I pulled back. “I’m not going into that chair!”
“You have to; it’s the only way to see into your locked memories.” Nailed to the roof, were a cluster of cranes hanging like ugly chandeliers above the head of the recliner. Regardless of how many times I was forced into chairs like it, a lump always caught in my throat.
“I told you I don’t want to get into that chair.”
Doctor Fitzgerald reached into his pocket and hit a button on a small remote. A spark fired down my spine from my neck and pulled my knees out from underneath me. As I flopped, Doctor Fitzgerald caught me and nestled me into the curve of the recliner. He bound my wrists and ankles into the leather stirrups then placed soft wires to my temples before readjusting the thin crown around my head. You son of bitch! I squirmed as he injected my neck with a drug.
With his phone out, he started to record. “For the record, the date is the 5th of June, 3228. Time 10:10 Eastern. I, Doctor Fitzgerald, with Elite McKinnon supervising have in our possession test subject, Nadia Richards, age twenty, female. Subject was born without any visible scar imprint in either iris, and lacks any reincarnated memories. First exploratory scan about to commence in three… two… one.”
Once he slipped his goggles on, Doctor Fitzgerald hit the switch, sending waves of vibrations into my head. The robotic arms folded away from the roof, lowered down to my eye level and released a series of hot flashes. The sonic waves blasting above me mixed in with the toxin now spreading through my veins warped the room into indistinguishable smudges. After only seconds, a striking white light shot across like a comet that deadened all my other senses. At the same moment, my body convulsed against the restraints as nausea flooded my system. All I wanted to do was scream as my tongue swelled and my stomach churned. The sensation of drowning tightened my throat like I was dangling in a noose.
I must’ve sat like that for hours, the overwhelming pressure clamping down onto my chest, making me want to cry out and slap the machine away. Let me go! Oh, please, just let me go!
I was on the edge of imploding. Finally, soft smudges of black and grey appeared beyond the vortex of white. My body screamed in pain, every muscle tightened and trembled as if I had my limbs pulled in opposite directions. My neck rolled as focus returned, putting together the blurred image of Doctor Fitzgerald in front of me.
He faced the projection of Elite McKinnon with an excited, breathless laugh. “This is promising, sir. I have the dosage tested and forwarded onto you.”
“Good, this is history in the making, Fitzgerald. Don’t mess it up.” I gurgled on my tongue accidently, catching Doctor Fitzgerald’s attention. He turned toward me before checking my pulse. He then injected something into my arm and darkness quickly followed.
CHAPTER EIGHT:
At some point, I fell asleep before I suddenly jolted awake back in my cell. There was a guard knocking against my door for me to get up. “Shower!” he barked as I rolled over onto my feet.
Every muscle from my back to my calves pulsated with agony. I must’ve been in that chair for hours to have this bad of a reaction. I hobbled up and had to catch myself on the wall. The guard escorted me to the showers and locked the door after me. I rubbed up and down my arms, massaging into my muscles before stripping out of my clothes.
The water hit my back like tiny thorns, but this time, I didn’t even care about the smell. I withered and winced, only able to stand under the stream for a few seconds at a time before turning the jets off. Looking down, I noticed purple bruises around my wrists from the seizures and a strange rash climb up the back of my body. Using the mirror, I twisted around to look at my spine where hives of red wrapped around my neck and down to my thighs. I grabbed at my skin and twisted further around. Following the bony curve of my spine where bruised puncture points stabbed into me like snake bites.
It ran from the tailbone up to the first bump of my spinal cord up my neck. I gingerly touched the sensitive pinpricks. “What the hell?” I turned the other way to try to get a better look when the guard hammered his fist against the door.
“Times up.”
I quickly slipped into my uniform and returned to my cell. Questions burned inside of me all night. What the hell did t
he doctor do to me? I couldn’t help but recall his conversation before I blacked out, about testing the dosage. Was I a test subject? What was he putting into my body?
All I could do was sit on my cot and tug at my hair. The morning rose but the groggy sickness never left. Today, the guard did not come to take me to the doctor. The same for the next morning, and the next. For the next four days, I was left in my cell, completely ignored. I wasn’t even allowed out to eat or shower. Instead, they slid my food under my door every morning and I had to use the corner as a toilet. On the fifth day, I was up to the door with my fingers around the bars. Like clockwork, the guards came to let a selected few of the prisoners out to wander.
“Hey! Hey, stop!” I hailed one guard down as they crossed by my door. He barely looked at me as I stretched my arm out to grab his clothes. “Please, please you have to let me out of here! I’ve been locked up for days. I can’t stand it anymore!”
“Who the hell is she?” I heard one of the guards asking the other.
“She’s that freak the doctor bought in. Just ignore her!”
“Wait, wait!” I slapped my palm against the metal door, causing it to ring. “I want to make a phone call.”
“Prisoners don’t get phone calls.”
Anger swelled up my throat. “I’m not an actual prisoner!”
He exchanged brief looks with his colleague before turning to face me. “If you’re not a prisoner then why are you locked up?”
“You should be asking that to that psycho Doctor Fitzgerald. I shouldn’t be here at all. I’ve done nothing wrong!”
“Yeah, yeah I’ve heard that before.” The guard beside him snorted in laughter.
“Listen here, dumbass, I want to speak to Doctor Fitzgerald, right now.”
The guard turned and swung his baton at the metal bars, causing them to clang. “Do you want me to string you up by your feet and feed you to the others? Because believe me, they’ve been itching to get a taste of you!”
Soulless (The Immortal Gene Trilogy Book 1) Page 6
