Revolutionary

by LeAnn Mason

  I returned her shrug, my own rebuttal to her faked empathy. When my feet hit the floor, I realized I was nearly floating. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d peed, actually. Probably best to do that in an actual lavatory as opposed to leaking all over the pristine floor in my holding cell. Though it’d be worth it if Daddy Douchebag had to clean it up. Odd that they’d not give some sort of toilet amenities… even prisoners got that. “Why isn’t there a toilet in this room?” I asked before moving to follow my jailers like an obedient dog.

  She began walking again. Clearing the doorway, she turned to the right and continued walking down a windowless corridor. “These are procedure rooms. They are not for long-term lodging and, therefore, there is no need to spend the time and money to upgrade each with a private toilet. You can be escorted twice daily while you are in residence.” Thick blue-painted doors lined the hallway, the only color I’d yet to see in the place. Just like my “quarters”, the floor, walls, and ceiling were all an ivory color. Blending at the seams to appear as one long stretch of blinding nothingness—except for the blue doors, of which there were four on each side. Did that mean that there were another seven people locked away there?

  When we arrived at the end of the hall, the final doors were painted a vibrant yellow—for pee, maybe—and stood out compared to the azure of the rest. As I was coming to expect, the door was locked prior to our arrival and would most likely be locked up again once I relieved myself. Was there a shower in there? “Can I even take a shower?” The thought escaped before I could corral it. I’d know if I just walked through the door, there’d be no reason for the question.

  “There is a shower stall at the rear, and it is okay to get your wound dressing wet. We will change and clean it once you exit. Water will only flow for five minutes. I will see you back at the room,” Doctor Parmore instructed briskly. With a nod from her, Holden’s sperm donor stepped forward and thrust a handful of items to my chest. The bastard copped a quick feel while he was at it. I narrowed my eyes as heat spiraled up my neck and toward my ears. It would quickly be easy to see the steam. I’d resemble a teakettle in both sight and sound if I didn’t flee into the dark confines of the washroom. I broke my stare and turned on my heel into the small room, making sure to slam the door closed. Of course, there was no lock. I’d lost all sense of expectation of privacy since I’d woken up in this place and seen the many cameras stationed to watch me without missing a beat.

  I looked through the items in my arms: my very own scrub uniform in a very flattering lilac color. Too bad it was given to me to delineate me into some form of instant recognition of classification here. Awesome. That would make escape plans more difficult, not that I had any sort of clue how to do that. The rest of the items within my grip were toiletries—sans razor. Geez, I finally realized just how far from a true prisoner I’d been in Minefield. I’d had a Hell of a lot more freedom there.

  Throwing my burden onto a low shelf within the room, I took a moment to pee, so the floating sensation would abate. I reached into the partitioned area where the shower stood and cranked the water on as hot as I could before completing my disrobing. I took the time to let the small space fill to the brim with steam that caressed my skin. I hadn’t realized just how grimy I’d felt until the moment I let the hot water sluice over my skin. Luckily, I couldn’t see just how nasty I looked; there was no mirror. My thought on that tidbit was that I assumed they didn’t want to give any access to a “weapon” to harm either myself or others. Therefore, no breakable mirror, no razors, and so on.

  I’d seen prison movies, though. I knew you could make just about anything into something stabby. I’d have to keep that knowledge tucked away and look for something that I could modify. Might be harder, seeing as there was constant video monitoring in my “quarters.”

  To take my mind off of what I’d landed in and who wasn’t around for me, I focused on scrubbing my skin and hair into cleanliness. My shoulder wound pulled and stung with the movement and heat of the water, but I welcomed it. It was a reminder of our purpose. There were definitely things in motion—involving a whole lot more people than I would have guessed—to make these wheels turn. Something else to think about.

  I cursed when the glorious wetness ceased its cascade upon my face. “Looks like my time’s up,” I muttered, sliding the curtain along the metal rod with a bit of a squeal, and stepped within reach of the little table I’d laid the towel and clothes on.

  “Holy shit!” I screeched, pulling my arm back as a red-headed young man materialized between me and the door to the washroom from freaking nowhere. “Wha—how?” I spluttered some more.

  “Oh man, I’m so sorry! I, uh, I’ll turn around for a second…” he hurried. “Wait. You can see me?”

  “What’s the problem, girl?” Holden’s father’s voice boomed irritably from the other side, the handle jiggling slightly. Oh, Hell, no!

  With what little quick-wittedness I still possessed, I fired back with, “There’s a freaking spider the size of a cat in here!” and received an amused snort in response.

  I grabbed at the towel when the wiry Sage—or the visage of him—spun to face the corner and I hurried to dry off and cover up. “Tanner, right? Sage recruit for the EEA team. Your ability was—”

  “Astral projection, right-ish,” he murmured, still turned away. “We’re working on a plan to get to you. Wait. How is it that you can see and hear me?”

  “What, that’s not the norm? You can turn around now,” I whispered. I needed to keep my voice down with the psychotic chaperone on the other side. I was clothed enough to be somewhat modest. My lower half covered, I used the towel to wrap around my torso, under my wound. Pulling on the shirt was going to suck.

  Bright eyes met mine. “Nope. You’re the first person I’ve met who knows I’m here. First to talk to me. Wow.”

  “I assume it has something to do with my telepathy.”

  A pounding on the door preceded a deep, “Hurry up, girl, or I’m coming in.”

  I shuddered. I did not want that man to see me without my resting bitch face, and being without clothes was far too vulnerable. I needed to get some answers out of this projection before it was too late. I twirled a hand at the astral version of Tanner, a movement telling him to hurry it up. I was short on time.

  “The team is back in Minefield.”

  Those six words broke something in me, and I deflated, sinking to sit on the toilet. “They really did leave me?” I sputtered in disbelief.

  “They had to. They didn’t have the resources or manpower to go against the whole city. Nathalee, please don’t hold it against them. They didn’t want to go, and they haven’t given up. None of them.”

  I nodded dully.

  “Looks like someone was worried about you long before this. Slipped a GPS unit into your music player. We know where you are, Nat.” The visage of Tanner flickered briefly. “Shit, I’m losing the meditation. I only have another moment. Keep faith. They’re coming for you.”

  His words bolstered something in me just as quickly as they’d brought me down, and I sat a little higher, a new conviction straightening my spine as he blurred and disappeared with a final order: Stay safe.

  Like that was my choice anymore. I yanked the door open to a rather red-in-the-face Primal who seemed a little too eager to bust open the bathroom door. It was a good thing Tanner had left when he did. I couldn’t raise suspicions in my captors, and talking to myself in a washroom certainly would. “I need help with the shirt.”

  The lech actually licked his lips as he looked at my towel-wrapped upper body. “I could do that.”

  “What? Ew, no. My dressing is wet, too. I assume it needs to be changed. Doctor Parmore can assist me.” I pushed my way past him with what was left of my outfit gripped in my fist. What was in store for me next? I knew better than to think that it would be all sunshine and rainbows while they “tested” my healing ability. There was no line that a zealot would not cross to achieve their ends.
While I couldn’t promise to “stay safe,” as the team wanted, I promised myself I would stay alive. I’d be ready for when the good guys came busting down the doors.

  The walk back to my accommodations was short and without turns. It would be easy to remember if I needed a way out… assuming there was one the way I’d come. As I passed through the door held aloft for my entry, I noticed it was labeled with “8M”. I committed the picture to memory so that I could give Tanner as much information as possible during his next visit. I had to think I’d see him again, that I’d be a help to my team’s rescue attempt. I’d do whatever needed to make sure we all made it out of this place in one piece.

  “Feeling better, Miss Dae?” Doctor Parmore asked without interest from near my makeshift bed. Her back was to us as we entered while she inspected something within her grasp. “Come, sit. We can get started now. Did you need this?” When she turned to face where I stood lingering, she held my music player and earbuds tangled aloft in her long, slender fingers.

  I didn’t want to show just how much it meant to me, but my body made a small involuntary lurch toward my nirvana and literal saving grace. She didn’t miss the movement, and a Cheshire-cat-like grin widened her face as she waved me forward to the bed. “You can have this once we get all our base readings.”

  “O-kay,” I answered cautiously as I crept across the room with wary feet. Her thoughts hadn’t contradicted her, but there was a subtle undercurrent that I couldn't pinpoint. “What are you going to do to me?” I asked as I gingerly hopped onto the bed. I didn’t notice the second woman until she approached us from the counters across the room. I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d missed her mental signature. Maybe I’d been too focused on the Terrible James and the Mad Doctor to pay as much attention as I should have… or maybe it was the mysterious astral visit from Tanner that had thrown me off. Whatever the reason, I needed to do better. I couldn’t afford to be taken by surprise while I was a prisoner. Of that, I was positive.

  “I’m going to inspect and clean your wound if need be. Then, we are going to take some base samples and readings.” She looked at me with a wildness in her eyes I’d never seen before. This was intriguing to her. I was intriguing to her, though she’d be loath to admit it. “Mister James, please wait outside the door, so that Miss Dae can have some privacy.” She asked this as she tugged the wet towel away from the gunshot wound still marring my back, flicking her eyes toward the large male to make sure he did as was told. “Sorry about him, but alas, he is a necessary evil.” Her indifference belied her attempt at empathy.

  “A necessary evil for what, exactly?”

  “He is there as a reminder to the subjects of what happens when they do not comply.” The answer was cold, matter-of-fact. A little distracted even, as I felt her push and prod at the sensitive skin of my back. “Remarkable,” she muttered, more to herself than me.

  “I’m glad you think so. Now, can I go home?” I asked with sugary sweetness and a bat of my eyes over my shoulder. The sarcasm was lost on the good doctor as she never looked to see it.

  “Does this hurt?” A poke.

  “It’s painful but manageable, why?”

  “This?” A harder poke in a slightly different location.

  “Nope.”

  “Here?”

  “Can I just skip to the end and say that the crazy pain I was in has diminished?” I raised an eyebrow to accompany the remark. God, I hate doctors. Minus Dad, of course.

  “Your wound is already scabbing over. There is fairly extensive bruising, but I’d say you are healing quite well,” Doctor Parmore remarked as she circled in front of me and nodded to the extra woman, who then stepped forward and began taking my vitals. She was a nurse, then. Heaven forbid that the good doctor sully herself with the busywork. I understood. Those would be my “baseline” vital readings, but that left the horrifying question of why they needed to know what my resting rate was?

  A quick sting at the inside of my elbow brought my attention back to Doctor Parmore, who’d just injected me with some unknown substance. “Count backwards from ten, Miss Dae,” she instructed as my vision began to fuzz at the edges, my mind clouding and slowing my thoughts and, therefore, my telepathy. This is not good.

  “Just something to help you relax. Tell Trevor that he can make his rounds while she’s out.” The Mad Doctor’s answer was the last thing I heard before the hazy darkness of the drug pulled me under. There was nothing I could do to fight it, and that scared the crap out of me.

  CHAPTER 22

  I came back to wakefulness slowly, having to wade through the current that was holding me underwater. As I pushed toward the light hovering behind my closed eyelids, I became aware of aches, stings, and outright pain radiating from several areas on my body.

  Finally, I convinced my eyelids to peel open only to be immediately shut for fear of blinding. The mobile florescent light hovering over my face was like a radiant sun and almost as blazing. I flailed an arm in an attempt to push the too-bright apparatus out of my immediate sightline but felt a tug at the back of my hand and pain up my arm. Plugged in again, damn it.

  My eyes pulled to where a clear plastic tube was once again taped to the back of my hand. I followed the tubing up to where it was attached to a clear bag on a stand. A heart monitor once again beeped rhythmically just behind my field of vision, which got clearer with every moment I was conscious. The movement of my arm brought my attention back to the pains I’d felt upon waking.

  My right forearm was bandaged with a white gauze wrap, and further up on my bicep were what looked to be… scabs? My fingers brushed over a blood-crusted line about two inches in length. “What the…” I poked at the wrap, causing a pain-filled hiss to escape my lips, jerking my body into a sitting position, which only brought more pain and aches to the fore.

  I lifted the lavender top slowly up my stomach to reveal more scabs and another bandage, this one taped, a large swath of red visible through the clear covering. My hand shook as I tentatively brought it to the surface of the wound, one that I certainly hadn’t had when I’d been pulled under. That meant I’d incurred these rather conspicuous and alarming wounds at Doctor Parmore’s hands.

  My worst fear was being realized. I was a true guinea pig, a test subject, unwilling and kidnapped. How many other scabs—or worse—adorned my body? Was I still whole, or did she manage to take a piece of me, maybe more than one?

  I was swiftly moving into hysteria at the possibilities. I was sedated, most likely being given some form of pain medication, so I wasn’t sure if how I felt was truly the extent. The heart monitor was steadily increasing its shrieking tempo in response to my rising agitation. I swung trembling legs over the side of the bed below where the railing kept me from rolling off while unconscious. The movement made various places at my back pull, a sharp, bone-deep pain radiating outward from low in my spine. I couldn’t help but move a shaky hand back to feel the point of origin.

  Another sleek bandage met my fingertips, pulling a coughing sob from deep within me. I yanked my hand away to clamp it over my gaping mouth, needing to keep the madness from escaping, even as a salty tear traveled the length of my face. I wasn’t sure how much more I could endure, if I could handle finding more evidence of scientific justification for violation and... torture. And it was only the beginning.

  I can’t live like this.

  The door clicked open as I spiraled, admitting Doctor Parmore and her cohorts, their approach unnoticed while I was consumed with fear and grief as I found myself sullied. I couldn’t let them win, couldn’t let them see the state they’d brought me to, even if there was digital evidence. I’d pull myself together while they were in my presence. Digging deep, I forced myself into a blank expression, my posture straightening to resemble steel. That strength slowly bled into every pore of my body as I vowed to leave and take every single one of those fuckers down in the process.

  “How are you feeling, Miss Dae?” the doctor asked conversationally as she
approached, eyes only for where she’d dug her proverbial claws into me. All she cared to know was how I was healing from her tests.

  “What have you done to me? How long have I been drugged into oblivion?” I snarled. The full brunt of my righteous anger focused for the moment on the good doctor, whom I now loathed with every fiber of my being. Not even Asshat Davidson had taken up that much real estate on my shit list. I was also realizing that the burning fury I felt was bringing out the overly-foul mouth that enforcers were known for—call it a coping mechanism.

  “We have begun our trials, my dear. Twelve hours ago, I logged my first result. You healed superficial wounds nearly instantly. Deeper cuts took longer, about an hour to cease bleeding. I’ve now come back to check on our… other ministrations.” She looked pointedly at my bandage-encircled forearm. The giddiness she showed in every line of her body was echoed by her thoughts. She was completely entranced with the process. It didn’t faze her in the least that everything she’d done—everything she was yet to do—was against my will and a physical detriment to both my mind and body.

  She fully expected that this trial and the included experiments would eventually kill me. She just wanted as much usable data prior to my death as she could get. That was the mindset Sages often adopted and what I hated most about them. They were basically sociopaths. They had no feeling, no empathy. Doctor Parmore definitely fell into that category. It made me embrace my anger, my sometimes-extreme Primal emotions. “You don’t even care at all that you’re effectively torturing people, do you?”

  The crazy was bright in her eyes as she answered. “Do you not understand what I’m doing? What you are a part of? I will change the world. I will change humanity, and you will have been a part of that. There is nothing more noble.”

  “You’re a fucking loon. You’re playing God. That never ends well.”