Dead Awakenings

by Rebekah R. Ganiere

  The sounds she’d heard earlier grew louder, and she found herself shrinking closer to Luca’s side. He didn’t say anything, but he let go of her arm. Bright lights shone up ahead. They walked through another doorway and into what looked like a holding chamber. The kind of thing from a sci-fi movie where aliens would be held captive. A dozen or more rooms, no-cells, with glass fronts faced the hallway. A bed and a toilet inside each of them. There were people in there as well. No, not people. Deaders like Luca; but different…they weren’t right. Some banged on the glass, screaming, howling, crying. Several curled up into balls on the floor, sleeping. One huddled in a corner rocking and staring off into space. All of them had the whiter-than-white skin and the white hair. Their eyes varied from fiery orange to icy blue. And all of them looked…feral was the only word she could come up with.

  “I don’t think this one came all the way back,” she remembered Luca saying when he had seen her on the bed in the hospital. This must have been what he meant. In the last glass cell on the left a very large heap lay under a blanket. If it was a person, he had to be a giant. Luca steered her toward a door opposite the one with the giant heap. The cell didn’t have glass all over the front wall like the others. It just had a door with a full-length glass panel, the rest of the wall was cement. Luca nodded to a camera mounted above the door. He punched some keys on a keypad, and the lock clicked open. He led her into the cell.

  This one was bigger than the others and more…homey was the only thing she could think they were going for. The cement walls had been painted butter yellow. A larger bed, against one wall, had a yellow comforter with big white flowers on it. A partition separated the rest of the room from a shower and toilet area. A small wooden table, bolted to the floor, with two chairs, and a dresser stood lonely in the corner. The cell wasn’t anything close to a home, but someone had tried very hard to make the room look like a small studio apartment. She got the impression this was the nicest place she’d lived in, in a long time.

  Luca’s movement behind her pulled her out of her thoughts. She whirled on him, a chill running down her spine.

  “It’s just for a little while.” He glanced around. “You can see this room isn’t like the others. You aren’t like them, but we’re not sure you are quite like us either. So for now you need to stay here in a controlled environment so we can monitor you. If things go well with your infancy stage, you’ll be moved to the house.”

  She continued to stare.

  “There are clothes in the dresser; you should be able to find something that fits. Wash up and someone will come check on you. You’ll need to be examined and fitted for permanent contacts and earbuds. They’ll help you with this transition stage.”

  She didn’t move, tears welling up again. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let them escape.

  “Go on.”

  She lifted her feet and walked further into the room, resigned to her fate. Her legs wobbled, and she leaned on the table for support. She took several deep breaths trying to calm herself.

  As the glass door clicked shut, she removed her earbuds and stood listening, watching and feeling the room. Nothing but the air conditioner whistling into the room made a sound. Suddenly the feel of the sticky cotton shirt clinging to her body was more than she could handle. By the time she hit the bathroom, she had already peeled the shirt off and flung it to the floor.

  Chapter Four

  Luca was watching her when Aron came up and found him.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Fine.” Luca stared into the room. “What do you think?”

  “About her? I think that she has better control of her hunger than most of us had in the past. Obviously she has a lot to learn. And she has the choice to make.”

  “Hmm…” Luca was not really listening.

  “Hey, let’s take care of that arm.”

  “I almost forgot.” His mind was somewhere else, with someone else.

  The two men started down the hall toward the elevator. Confusion ran through Luca to the point of madness. The pickup should have been routine, like all the others. But this one had been anything but. That girl. Her heart-shaped face with lips like a ripe strawberry and hair long and thick and not yet fully white. The remnants of humanity still left on her skin. Pale, but not colorless, eyes like amethysts, shining brilliantly. Beautiful didn’t begin to describe her. Even with her vanishing coloration, she was amazing. And when he touched her, the electricity between them made his whole body hum with need. He had neither had place nor time for these things in his strange life.

  A newborn. An uncontrollable teenager at best, a tantrum-throwing toddler at worst. Nothing more than a bundle of hormones and wiring and nerves all getting overworked from the drugs pumped into her before her rebirth. He couldn’t get involved. Yet something about her drew him in.

  He was already involved.

  They took the elevator down a floor and walked out into the hallway. The strong scent of chlorine filled his nostrils. He passed the pool and saw Cami and Victor engaged in a water fight. They stopped and waved. Aron and Luca watched Cami launch herself onto Victor, shoving him under the water. Luca smiled despite himself. Victor and Cami. The pixie and the giant; they made an odd couple.

  Luca continued on down the hall and into a small surgical unit. Three beds lined the left side. Ronan lay motionless in the one closest to the entrance, sleeping. Aron and Luca walked to the last bed, careful not to wake him. The kid had been through enough for one night.

  Luca hopped up, and Aron pulled over a rolling table set with an array of medical instruments. Luca set his arm on top. He could smell the sterile nature of the room. The underlying scent of antibacterial permeated every surface. He got a good look at his arm for the first time. The wound was deep and drying out. Aron turned the arm, inspecting it from every angle, and then started irrigating it with Isis.

  “I can fix it. You’ll have a nasty scar, but you shouldn’t have any muscle damage. I’ll have to apply some Nuskin to close the wound since, uh…did she actually swallow your flesh?”

  “I didn’t bother asking.”

  “Yeah, guess not.” Aron pulled out a small baggie with Nuskin inside. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts remembering her human life in the next few weeks.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Just a feeling. She seems to be taking this whole transition pretty well.”

  “Pretty well?” Luca raised an eyebrow.

  “You know if the workers hadn’t been in the barn, that incident would never have happened. And as for you getting attacked, that wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. Remember when we picked up Victor? You almost didn’t make it home from that one.”

  Aron was right. It was a wonder that no one had been permanently injured before. Maybe he was making the whole thing worse than it really was because of the strange feelings he’d been experiencing for the newborn female.

  The silence stretched out while Aron worked. When Aron finished sewing the Nuskin over the wound he threw his latex gloves in the trash and crossed to a small fridge.

  “Have you ever heard of two of our kind having a special connection before?” Luca watched the Nuskin bond with his arm.

  “What do you mean? Special how?” Aron handed Luca a bottle of Isis and cleaned up.

  “Like, that they could read each other’s emotions or thoughts?”

  “No one’s come to me to discuss it before.”

  “So Victor and Cami have never said anything?”

  Aron looked up at Luca. “No. Why? Did Victor mention something to you? That would be interesting if they did. It would definitely explain why they can’t keep their hands off each other.”

  “So you and Zuzi…”

  Aron stiffened. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. I just wondered if there’d ever been anything.”

  Aron stared at him for a moment, then changed the subject. “So are those two getting hitched anytime soon?”
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br />   Luca laughed. “Victor’s been thinking about it. He’s worried though. None of us knows what the future holds. Every run we do to save newborns is another run we may not come home from. Ronan’s a good example of that. What happened with Ronan anyway? I didn’t see.”

  “From what he told me, when Victor blasted everyone and you ran out, he stayed in the room making sure the computer got wiped. He came out a few minutes later. The guy you threw down the hall wasn’t as dead as you thought. Apparently, he spotted Ronan and attacked. He had a knife and made a pretty big hole in Ronan’s stomach. He’ll heal, but it’ll be sore.”

  Luca’s throat tightened and his gut clenched. His gaze drifted to the sleeping kid. “Sheesh, I could have gotten him killed.” Ronan was a little brother to him. Luca hated bringing him on recon runs, but wherever a computer was involved, Ronan was the only one who could get the info they needed off it. Ronan had been young when he rebirthed, and he wasn’t very big. He wasn’t a fighter—they needed to remember that. “Why hasn’t he fed yet?”

  “He won’t. After last time, the way the addiction almost set in, he won’t unless he really has too. I have him on an IV of Isis. It should help.”

  Luca knew all too well the effects of going off diet too often. He’d nearly succumbed to the affects of the addiction himself before Nate had found him. If it hadn’t been for Nate, he would have killed more people and eventually been killed himself.

  “So what happened to the guy from the delivery company?” Luca turned back toward Aron.

  “He was pretty shook up. We’ll keep him on pickup but not drop-off rotation for a while. He’s going to take two weeks paid vacation first and relax. I think he’ll stay silent. He wasn’t really sure what happened anyway. The other guy has been with us long enough that he took it in stride pretty well. We gave him a few hundred bucks, and he was more than happy. It was a bad time for us to pull up to the house. No one told Nate and Abbey they were here.”

  Luca nodded.

  “To tell you the truth we’ve been lucky that we haven’t had an incident before.” Aron hung his white lab coat on a chair. “OK, how does the arm feel?”

  Luca flexed and twisted his arm. “Feels tight.”

  “It will for a few days till the Nuskin fuses, then it’ll flex better. Drink your Isis. If you want I can go with you over to the barn.”

  That was a brave offer. Luca usually took Victor with him because Victor was the only one who could control him if something went wrong. And this was going to need to be a big feed. “I appreciate your offer, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  Aron grinned. “You don’t think I can handle you?”

  “It isn’t that.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you think I can’t handle myself with big bad you when you get raged.” Aron laughed. “Your call. I’m here if you want me. I’m gonna go change clothes. I’ll be in my room.”

  Luca nodded in appreciation, opened his Isis, and drank. It flowed cool and smooth down his throat. Aron was a genius to have been able to create the drink that sustained them the way Isis did. He’d had Abbey contact an outside chemist and bottling companies to produce it.

  Aron checked on Ronan and then left without another word. Luca finished his drink. He felt a twinge of guilt passing Ronan’s bed. He needed to apologize as soon as Ronan awoke. And play a half dozen rounds of Halo with him. Luca smiled at the sleeping form, glad that they’d been able to save him.

  He walked past the pool. It was empty. He didn’t have much time till sunrise. Luca hated to bother Victor now, knowing all too well how Victor needed to unwind after a fight. Maybe he should ask Aron to help him out tonight. But none of the rest of them knew a darn thing about medicine, and if they lost Aron it would be more than devastating. Luca sighed and rubbed his temples. His muscles twitched in anticipation of the feed. He didn’t like it, but Aron had offered to help. And he absolutely needed help tonight.

  Chapter Five

  Wide-eyed, she peered at the alien reflection in the mirror. Who was she? Her skin, almost white like Luca, Aron, and the others; her lips not yet quite as bloodless. Her long thick hair, no longer raven, wasn’t quite white yet either. The shade was something in between. Like a watercolor midnight sky that had gotten wet and the color was running off the page, revealing the paper beneath. She tried to run her fingers through her long tresses but couldn’t. How long had it been since she had washed and brushed it? From the smell and greasy feel, quite a while. Exasperated, she quit and instead inspected her hands. Her nails were long and caked with dirt and worse.

  She shook her head, and then looked in the mirror again, examining a cut on her lip. She ran her tongue over the sensitive spot and pulled it down. A chunk had been bitten out inside. She vaguely remembered being hit by the man she had…she had killed someone. Her head buzzed and her eyes watered. Images of the fight with the man flashed through her mind. She shook her head again, trying to rid herself of the memories. Now was not the time to dwell on what she had done. It was too awful to think about, so she decided to tuck it away in a closet deep inside, to be examined at later when she could handle it.

  Placing her palms on the counter she took several breaths hoping to calm herself. It didn’t work. Did she even need to breathe anymore? She tried holding her breath. Minutes past. No. Must just be reflex now. The distraction had allowed her to calm herself though.

  Looking down she saw her chest was filthy. The need to vomit overwhelmed her senses. Bending over the sink she willed herself to expel what she had eaten, but nothing happened. Logic told her she should be repulsed by everything she had done. But she wasn’t. Her vision had improved. Her hearing as well. She could smell better and feel more than she ever had. Whatever the scientists had shot her up with, it had made her more than she had been before.

  The cement pad in the corner of the bathroom had a drain in the middle that constituted a shower. She walked to it and flipped on the water. The lack of curtain did nothing to deter her from the need to get clean. The strong spray warmed while she peeled the pants from her naked flesh. The fabric clung to her skin, and she had to rip it to get the stiff material off. Her underthings were drenched with blood as well. She hoped something in the drawers would fit her, because these clothes needed to be burned.

  The water steamed, and she stepped under the spray. The drops hit her like a thousand tiny lava rocks. Goose bumps stood at attention on her arms and legs.

  She reveled in the feeling running over her skin and washing away the days, the months, the years. Relaxing, her mind drifted. Her name was… She had been born in… Born on… Her mother was… She went to school at… Nothing. She was nobody anymore.

  She washed her hair three times, put conditioner in it, and crumpled on the floor to let the water rain down her body. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. But when her hips began to ache from the cement she stood, stretched, and rinsed out her hair.

  In the dresser she located the only clothes even remotely close to her size. A large black T-shirt and a pair of black sweats, several sizes too long. A drawer of women’s underthings held nice and lacy, but modest, items. She liked that. She didn’t want to think that the men in this place would buy things too racy and expect her to wear them.

  She stood behind the screen and put them on. She had to roll down the sweats at the waist, and the shirt, well it just was what it was. Not fashionable in any way, but she didn’t care. Back in the bathroom she found a brush along with some leave-in conditioner. She rubbed a palm-size amount through her hair and then carefully began to untangle her rats’ nest of a head. Thirty minutes later, satisfied with the condition of her hair, her arms ached from being held up.

  She lay on the mattress. Her body hummed with electricity and strength, but her mind reeled from the overload. The questions she had put off now loomed over her. What was going to happen to her? Would they let her go? What would she eat? She couldn’t—she didn’t want to think about that thing that she knew she
could never, ever do again.

  The questions whirled and swirled inside her head until she could no longer think. She grabbed a pillow, curled into a ball and drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  “I don’t know.” Evaine laughed. “I’m a sophomore; I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  She walked down the sidewalk with an ice cream cone dripping down one hand and someone else’s hand in the other. He drilled her about her college submissions and her plans for the future.

  “What about you? You have any definite plans?” She licked her cone.

  “I got accepted to Stanford, Harvard, and Yale. I’m pretty sure I want to go somewhere back east for school, to get away.”

  “Wow. Must be nice. What does your dad do?”

  “Oh, my parents died a few years ago, but my dad was a surgeon and my mom a pharmaceutical rep.”

  She stopped walking. “Tristan, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “They weren’t around much after I turned about nine. Don’t get me wrong, I loved them, but they just got kind of…preoccupied I guess.”

  “What happened when you were nine?”

  “My baby sister was born. There were a lot of complications and a bunch of medical problems. She died when she was little. After she died my parents threw themselves into their work. About three years ago they were coming back from a charity event in Colorado and their plane went down. Their bodies were never recovered.” Tristan had stopped walking and looked off at the bright lights of the strip.

  After a while she finally spoke. “So, who do you live with now?”

  “My grandparents. They are really great. My granddaddy used to own a logging company in Idaho. He and Gammy sold it and moved here to sunny Las Vegas. He has a few other companies around the United States that he either owns or is on the board of.” Tristan laughed. “Sorry, I know that was a lot. What about you?”