Scarlet Memories (Book 2): Metamorphosis

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Scarlet Memories (Book 2): Metamorphosis Page 2

by Jessica T. Ozment


  “I wonder if mental illness runs in their family.” Sam speculated to herself. Susan and Jamie both seemed tragically touched by the situation they were in; much more so than the rest of the small group. Of course, everyone understood why. Their lives had been ripped away from them and they were constantly being poked and prodded by strangers.

  “This place is a total nightmare that messes with any self-worth you thought you possessed. It can cause a man to go insane” Sam concluded as she viewed Jamie rocking back and forth next to his abject mother. She seemed dazed and unresponsive.

  “Is there anything that I can get you?” Sam asked Susan. She placed a hand on her shoulder and quickly withdrew when she felt the icy temperature of her skin. Her skin was that of very pale porcelain, and her eyes seemed obscurely distant. Sam took her fingers and snapped in front of Susan’s sequestered gaze.

  “She didn’t even flinch…” Sam thought distressed. She bent down and kissed Susan on her frigid forehead.

  “I’ll get you a blanket. You’re too cold Susan.” She uttered.

  Sam snatched a red blanket hanging over a white leather couch in the common room and covered Susan with it. She made sure to tuck Susan’s hands on the sides of her, and double checked that the blanket wouldn’t obstruct her breathing.

  “Poor girl…” Sam thought. It seemed she had almost given up on life. The only thing grounding her was Jamie and he needed someone to look after him. The sad thing was, Susan was barely capable of taking care of herself, let alone a young boy. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that she needed help. The best that Ian and Sam could do for her right now was to make sure that Jamie was cared for. Whatever they were giving her, it wasn’t doing her body any favors. Half of her body stopped working at times, in the middle of her walking or talking. She would just pause as though she forgot something and fall to the floor. Sadly, Susan wasn’t the only one. Jamie’s Asperger’s was getting out of control.

  Sometimes Jamie would wreck Susan’s living quarters or break things throughout the living areas. It wasn’t like they could get any of that back either. They were stuck with whatever they had on their backs and the few items that they were issued when they arrived. They weren’t prepared for the school’s takeover by the military. But, Sam didn’t feel like thinking about that now. It brought up bad memories of innocents dying; being murdered.

  She would wait for Ian to get back.

  “He would do the same for me.” She imagined. Sam thought about how close they had become since their kidnapping. The relationship was probably the only thing keeping the two of them going. Besides a few conversations with the rest of the group, most of them didn’t speak to each other anymore. It was still quite awkward between Jeremy and Ian. The mistrust that had built up at the school never dissipated. The two of them were bound to hate each other now. Susan could barely talk and Jerry was off to himself. He had regressed back into an introvert and was living a rather unhealthy life. Socially, there wasn’t much going on and it was killing the battered group. Sure, they had food, water and shelter; the necessities. But, there was so much more that a human needed to survive. They needed interaction. If not for that, their lives would become a sad and lonely existence. Everyone knew that was the road they were headed towards, but no one voiced their opinions about it except Jeremy.

  Sam sat in an armchair closest to the elevators. This is where the doctors would bring Ian back. She furrowed her eyebrows as she contemplated what her next move would be. Sure, they’d thought about escaping hundreds of times. But, they would need access cards and passwords, which was something they weren’t able to acquire. And, even if they could, they only knew what was on this floor. God only knew what was upstairs. Even if they had a sense of direction for the facility, they would have no idea what to do once they left it. They couldn’t even survive if they got out, especially, in their current state of being. Their health was at stake. The group had no idea how to take care of themselves now. They didn’t even know what it was like outside the walls. The undead were sure to run rampant from coast to coast by now. One could only imagine the horrors lurking about the streets.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ian sat up and rubbed his distressed eyes, trying to focus on the blurry figure in the corner of the dimly lit room. There was someone with him. As his eyes focused gradually, he realized who it was.

  “The attendant,” he thought. She was always there when it came time to go back to the living quarters. She had come for Ian as she had done countless times before.

  “Are you ready to go?” She asked brushing her auburn shoulder length hair behind her back. She rested her sharp honey eyes on Ian. Her fluffy voice was very crisp in the clinically sterile room. She adjusted her nametag on the left of her shoulder.

  It read, Charlotte. “It seemed like a nice enough name.” Ian rationalized with himself. Charlotte was always cordial towards him, but he didn’t trust her.

  “What reason does she have to show me kindness?” Ian thought perplexed; he scratched at the black hair beginning to grow on his chin. “None of it makes any sense.” He guessed.

  He was a prisoner after all. For that matter, why did they have this woman, who was barely over 130 pounds, escort him back? He could obviously overpower her in any situation. Something didn’t quite add up here. Frankly, Ian was getting sick of it all.

  “Yes, I’m ready Charlotte.” Ian snapped. She may be sweet and generous to him but, he didn’t let that get in the way of the view he had of this place. She still worked here regardless of her personality. He didn’t care what she said. Charlotte was here on her terms from the looks of things.

  She helped steady him as he pulled himself up on the railing of the bed. Ian put his feet on the floor while thanking God that the wheel locks on the bed were working. Falling was not an option he wanted to deal with.

  “Easy,” Charlotte told him. She clutched his arm firmly.

  “You know; you should probably drink a glass of water before we leave. It’s a bit of a walk for someone who has gone through what you have.” Charlotte placed his loose arm on the railing and gave him a look that said Don't Let Go! She scrambled to the cabinet with the pitcher of water and poured him a glass. Ian watched as the glass fogged up from the temperature change.

  Ian held himself tightly to the rail. His legs were unsteady at best.

  “Damn it” he sighed to himself as he sat back down; he needed Charlottes help and showed that he obviously wasn’t happy about it. He eyed the glass of water, suddenly realizing that he was indeed thirsty. She handed him the glass and he guzzled it down. Charlotte kindly grabbed the pitcher and poured him another round.

  Charlotte watched him chug a second glass. Small rivulets of water ran from the corners of his mouth and onto his shirt. She sighed; the medical ward didn’t seem to do a very good job of taking care of this patient. She could tell that he was severely dehydrated by his sunken in eyes and extreme thirst. So much so, that he drank the entire pitcher’s contents in a matter of a couple of minutes. It didn’t take a full on doctor to tell that he wouldn’t last long in this condition. For that matter, it seemed that many of the patients she guided back to the others were this way too. Charlotte didn’t understand why they were treating these people this way. It enraged her. They had no right! Being human meant that they were balanced equally; each life mattered, even if they didn't work for the facility. They didn’t deserve to be made into mindless slaves. Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure why she suddenly felt this way, after she’d worked here for so long. She knew their views and what the CDC stood for. Or, at least she thought she did.

  Ian picked himself back up off of the bed. This time, his footing was better than the first time he stood up. The water had drastically helped with his dizziness. He was less vulnerable now and more comfortable. At least now he could hold his own. Charlotte walked next to him and extended her arm.

  “I can manage. Thank you,” Ian growled, annoyed with her attempt. He pushed
away from her and headed to the door. His body was his own again and responded perfectly, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it would hold up. His stomach rolled as it protested the overabundance of water. It took all that he had in him to not turn around and vomit into the trash can next to the bathroom door.

  “I’m ready to go now.” He said turning the knob and pulling on the door. Ian pulled away; it was locked. It never had been before.

  “What the hell? Why are they strengthening the security?” Ian asked himself. He glanced at Charlotte, who pulled a walkie-talkie out of her pocket. She pressed the talk button and ordered the voice on the other end to open the door. She frowned in Ian’s direction. He heard a soft click and reached for the door once more. As he opened it, he noticed that it was empty outside in the hall except for a few guards, each of them standing in front of an occupied room.

  “They must be guarding other prisoners,” Ian thought. He gave them one last look and headed down the hall to the exit. Ian could hear Charlotte’s footsteps falling in behind him. She was close but not enough to grab him if he ran. He liked it much better that way. The more distance between them, the better he felt inside.

  Ian passed several doors on his way to the elevator. They were all closed except for one door at the end of the hall. Inside he could see a patient sitting on the bed. The patient was holding himself and rocking back and forth repeatedly. Ian watched as the he began clawing at himself with furious fingers, causing lacerations up and down his forearms. As Ian passed the door, he watched the man get up and slam his head into one of the metal cabinets hanging on the wall closest to him. Blood poured from the gash on his bruised forehead, and he fell to the floor.

  “What on earth is wrong with that man?” Ian pondered. He was obviously going insane, but there was no telling what caused it. He pressed both of his hands together out of a nervous habit and then tore them apart stuffing them back in his pockets. It was something he had picked up from the other survivors, and he was doing his best to break himself of it. He didn’t want Charlotte knowing that he had any weaknesses.

  They approached the elevators and Charlotte passed Ian to direct it to the floor they needed. She pressed the level six button and took a step back, folding down her shirt neatly to the top of her pants. Ian watched as the button lit up once the elevator reached their current floor. Taking a quick glance at Ian, she stepped into the elevator and beckoned him to follow her. Once inside, Ian grabbed onto the elevator’s railings to steady himself. He had exerted most of his energy just walking from the room to the lift.

  As soon as the metal doors close in front of them, Charlotte turned to Ian and whispered, “Listen, I need to talk to you and this is the only place that I can do it.” She said, holding her hands up to show that she meant the elevator.

  “What are you going on about?” Ian asked grumpily. He wasn’t willing to play along. He was too damn tired of these people and their games.

  “I know what testing they are doing on you and I think you should know that they have a positive agenda.” She grabbed Ian’s arm to help steady him as his knees started to buckle beneath him.

  “I don’t need your help!” He yelled at her as he pulled away.

  “What is this agenda you are speaking of?” Ian asked her rudely. He watched as her eyes narrowed and she became more serious.

  “They are trying to find out how the undead come back to life…If that’s what you want to call it” She paused. She didn’t seem to enjoy telling him this next part. Her face scrunched up and she pressed her hand to her forehead.

  Looking down, she allowed words to slip through her pursed lips.

  “They are planning on giving you the virus soon. After all of the testing that you have gone through, they think they may have found the cure.” Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair, knowing that he wouldn’t take this well.

  “They are going to infect us?” Ian screeched as his tired eyes became alight with fury.

  “Lower your voice!” She hissed. Her face had become red with fear. She didn’t want them hearing the conversation. The elevators had video; they didn’t have audio. So, as long as they kept this conversation looking normal, then they would be in the clear. Otherwise, they might as well never stop this elevator. The men outside the doors would shoot them on sight.

  “They have eyes on us right now!” She told him, trying to keep her expressions calm on her face. This was proving to be a difficult task because of Ian’s unwillingness to cooperate.

  Ian shifted his weight to the other foot and pondered on what she had just told him.

  “Charlotte could be lying. She could be setting him into a trap. But, what more did he have to give? What motive did they have? He knew nothing about anything!” but, Ian eventually decided to give her a chance to speak. Their level was coming up.

  “OK, go ahead and talk.” He murmured.

  “They are going to infect you with the virus because they think that you and Sam have the cure inside of you. If they can narrow down the antibodies they gave you, then, we might have a fighting chance. Just hang in there a little bit longer.” Charlotte paused, smiling sweetly at Ian.

  “We can save you.” Charlotte was hopeful that her telling Ian this would change his mind about her colleges. She knew that he would always resent them, but he could learn to appreciate what they were trying to accomplish here. She placed a hand on his back and he jerked away immediately.

  Ian decided he wouldn’t say anything else to her. He needed to think things through. If what she said was true, then they were doing something for the greater good. On the other hand, if she were lying he would only know after they tested him again. By that time, it may be too late. The sound of the elevator chime rang and the double doors to the elevator opened. He could see the common room of the living quarters squarely before him now. He grinned as he saw Sam was there waiting for him. He briefly met her ocean blue eyes before he turned back to face Charlotte.

  He couldn’t quite pin down what made him dislike her so much. He saw this as an opportunity to get some sort of information flowing. Maybe she was telling the truth after all. He would just have to tread carefully from now on and see what playing the part could get him.

  ”We’ll talk later.” he mouthed at Charlotte. She slightly nodded back to him as he stumbled out of the elevator and into Sam’s arms. She was already up and waiting for him at the doors. They both stumbled back with the weight of Ian’s body. He could barely hold himself up now. It seemed his body was already dehydrated again. Ian pulled himself back from Sam’s grasp and looked back at Charlotte as the doors closed her in. He found her amber eyes and locked onto them, praying that she wasn’t lying. The expression on his face seemed to say,” You lie to me; it will be your last!”

  “What happened?” Sam asked Ian while she helped him to the nearest couch. She grabbed his arm and guided him to the edge of his seat.

  “Did they say what to expect with this one?” She queried. She was already grabbing a pitcher of water from the kitchen about ten feet away. This routine was repeated all too often. Every single one of them knew how it was to come back from that god forsaken experimenting room. Staying hydrated kept the headaches at bay. Nothing could keep the nightmares from seeping into their dreams at night. It was horrifying to feel so hopeless in a situation that you cannot control, no matter how hard you tried. What if what the Liaison said were true and they really want to help; then Ian had to go through with it. He knew that the best thing would be to talk it over with Sam. She would give him a clear head about what to do.

  “I gotta talk to you about something.” Ian held his head up for a moment longer and then let it drop on the arm of the couch.

  Sam came back with the glass and handed it to him. She sat down next to him, taking in his dreadful appearance.

  “Go on.” She told him while she nestled in next to him. She missed him desperately and hated seeing him in this condition. Sam moved his arm and placed it on her shoulder a
nd waited with patient eyes, watching his face screw up with the words he was about to tell her.

  “Charlotte told me that they are planning on giving the two of us the virus. They think we have the cure. They must have figured out a way to isolate it.”

  Sam took in a breath and held it for a moment, longer than usual.

  “Do you believe her?” She whispered as she turned her body to face Ian’s. Sam looked at him, noticing all of the signs of the latest experiments. His skin was sallow, his eyes sunk in, even his breathing was off. This last trip really did him in. He would be sick for days.

  Ian contemplated his answer for a moment, rationalizing how he felt about the situation.

  “I suppose… It’s because she seemed so sincere about it. I don’t know. You just had to be there.” Ian sat up a bit so that he could hold her a little tighter. He took in her pleasant presence and released a sigh of relief.

  “This was home.” He thought to himself as he clutched his fingers together at the small of her back. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like lying down any longer.

  “I am not saying that I believe her. I’m just telling you what she told me.” He shrugged while resting his head on Sam's shoulder. He could face anything while wrapped in her arms.

  “Whatever happens,” he continued to Sam,” we need to be on guard. This could mean very bad things for us. There aren’t many of us left down here and I don’t even know if they are out looking for other survivors or not. I wish there were some way to confirm her story without getting her into trouble. If she is genuine about her intentions, she’s our only ally.”

 

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