by Aaron Bunce
Anna turned around and moved to walk away, but Janice pushed noisily out of her chair and cut around her, jabbing a finger towards her chest.
“I used to have tits like that when I was younger, nicer than those, in fact,” Janice pointed at Anna’s chest, spitting as she talked. Dark ick seemed to run freely from her nose now. “You’re not so perfect…obviously, because you’re hanging around a loser like him. Do you hear me? A louser? A leaser?”
She couldn’t seem to pronounce the words properly and her voice warbled oddly. She glared at Anna, large bubbles of tears forming and running from her eyes.
“I don’t have to listen to your shit,” Anna snapped, backing away from her jabbing, boney finger. “I’m leaving.”
“My shit?” Janice snapped, her eyes going wide. “Does the truth hurt, honey? We saw security go back there. They’ve prosbably alreedy detooned his worthless aaaaaaa…” she paused, almost gagging on the words. “It’s all ov…” Janice tried to speak again but stammered, her eyes rolling back in her head.
Anna saw it coming and jumped back, right before Janice turned and started to flail. The boney woman fell into the line of chairs, spitting and coughing, a cloud of dark fluid erupting with every violent breath. It hit the ceiling as well as the people around her.
Janice landed in a middle-aged man’s lap, the young woman seated next to him throwing her hands up and almost immediately tumbling to the ground.
“What in the hell?” the man yelled. He threw his hands up as well and pushed off the chair. Janice tumbled to the ground and immediately started to seize. Her arms and legs thrashed violently, while her head swung back and forth, cracking loudly against the floor.
Anna backed away, subconsciously wiping her hands on her pants. Some of the people in the waiting room backed away, climbing up onto their chairs, while others rushed in to try and hold Janice still.
“Someone help!” a woman screamed, dark droplets of Janice’s mess spattered across her face. “Someone get a doctor.”
Janice flopped over again, bucking against the men now trying to hold her still. Her face turned towards Anna, and cold panic tightened her chest. Dark fluid pushed from the woman’s eyes now, flowing down to meet the dark streams leaking out of her nose and mouth.
Anna turned towards the exit, kicked over her garbage can, stumbled, and caught her balance on a chair. She turned as nurses ran out of the hall and towards the mob clustered around Janice.
The boney woman started to thrash more violently, and then turned her head and spewed onto the ground. Janice gagged, croaking and squealing, her noises horrible and frightening.
This is wrong. This is all wrong, Anna thought, fear and panic besting her resolve. She pushed between two people at the clinic entrance and ran out into the hall.
A worker walked out directly ahead in the hallway, pulling a length of cable behind them. Anna dodged him, but caught the cable with her throat. The worker cried out and fell back. Anna landed atop him, her bulk hitting his soft belly.
“I’m…so…sorry,” she gasped and rolled free. The worker grunted and yelled, but Anna refused to stop. She kicked off the ground and ran blindly down the hall, through the door, and out into the A ring atrium, rubbing her neck as she went.
She dodged around the missing floor panels and the scurrying technicians, only dropping into a fast walk when people started to stop and stare. Anna arrived at the transit elevator only to find a mass of people already waiting. She paced back and forth behind the group, pulled out her data point, and opened her messages.
Of course he wouldn’t have sent me a message, he was wrestling with security, she thought and angrily stuffed the device back into her pocket. She wiped her hands on her pants and silently wished for some way to sanitize…well, everything.
What was Jacoby thinking? What was that orderly…Randle, doing? Anna tried to reason it all out in her head as she waited for the elevator, but none of it made any sense. It all felt so needlessly out of control…so pointless.
The elevator chimed and the wide doors slid open. The crowd before her parted to allow the arrivals to move past, and then filed in to take their place.
Anna moved in last, drifting to the left side of the lift, where a pair of technicians moved aside to make room. She nodded her thanks and tapped the icon for D ring, despite the fact it was already selected.
The doors hissed shut, the magnetic drive kicking in smoothly. Anna tried to run through everything the doctor said – all the vital statistics and medical mumbo jumbo, but the only thing that stuck out to her was his expression and the words “should be dead”.
What is wrong with Jacoby? Could the doctor be wrong? My god, could it affect me? The last thought hit her hard, her hands immediately starting to tremble. They didn’t just share the same space, but last night they’d pushed well past the boundaries of friendship.
Anna fought to push the experience at the clinic from her mind – the horrible, thick air in the exam room, Randle’s murderous rage, and Janice. The thought of Janice made her mouth water, and despite every attempt to think about anything else, the image of her writhing on the ground floated forth in her mind. Not just writhing, but vomiting foul, black sick.
Anna’s stomach lurched and she stifled a burp as someone coughed on the other side of the elevator. The sound was wet, unhealthy. Another coughed in response, the entire group shifting uneasily. A murmur filled the confined space and someone sniffled loudly.
Anna tensed, her weight shifting restlessly between feet. She struggled against the urge to run, to break away from the crowd, but she was trapped in a sealed compartment surrounded by the vacuum of space.
She looked to one of the technicians next to her. The young man met her gaze. He had light, brown eyes, a long, narrow chin and scraggly clumps of facial hair on his cheeks. He gave her a crooked smile before looking away, and wiping his nose on his sleeve.
Anna saw a dark streak on the fabric as he dropped his hand, and she immediately pushed away, jamming her body forcefully into the unforgiving metal. She glanced at the doors, then the holographic display.
Open, damn you. Open!
Was it moving? Were they stuck? It was moving so slowly she couldn’t be sure.
The technician coughed suddenly and Anna jumped.
“I’m sorry,” the young man said. She spun around, intentionally avoiding his gaze. She looked to his sleeve. No black mucus…no sick. Was she seeing things? Was she losing her shit?
The elevator chimed suddenly, the panel behind her glowing bright blue.
“B ring atrium,” the elevator chimed, in a smooth, multicultural accent. The lift promptly opened and a large group of people shuffled out through the doors.
Two people walked on and the elevator continued on. The newest additions, two young women, whispered and laughed, standing so close together they almost looked to be holding one another. The girl on the right coughed, not bothering to turn away as her friend told a story.
Anna tapped her knuckles on the cool steel panel, fighting the urge to pull her shirt up over her nose and mouth. She’d never been sensitive about germs or bugs, but after her experience in the clinic, she was well and truly freaked out.
They arrived at C ring. Most of the crowd departed, save for an older man standing on the opposite side of the lift. She watched him out of her peripheral vision as she scrolled down through messages on her data point.
The man wore a full work suit, the faded olive fabric worn through in spots, the forearms and knees stained by rock dust and grease. She knew the smell well enough, as it was how Jacoby smelled after every shift.
Anna rubbed her neck and scratched a spot on her hairline. Her right eye started to twitch just as the man cleared his throat. It was a soft sound, and not sickly like the others, but rather a subtle grunt born out of habit.
He did it again, and then again, Anna’s eye twitching each time.
Stop it, she wanted to scream, the itch on her hairline growing
more pronounced – like a bug biting and digging at her flesh.
Anna clawed at the spot as the man cleared his throat again. She moved to round on him, but the elevator stopped abruptly.
“D ring atrium,” the elevator said and the doors hissed open.
“Go right a–” the man started to say.
“Thanks,” Anna cut in and jumped forward, running out of the elevator. She made her way down the narrow corridors, passing in and out of heavy shadows, at least half of the overhead lights now dark. The air had a different smell than it did earlier as well – heavy, damp, and stuffy.
She pushed the call button on the service elevator and waited. A service panel to her right was dented in, a smudged partial footprint marring the yellow paint. A bag of trash sat just to its right, the contents spilling out onto the floor around it.
Were they there earlier? She honestly couldn’t remember.
The elevator quietly arrived and she traveled to their floor in blessed silence. The doors opened, stopping halfway, the motors humming loudly. The lone overhead light flickered, went dark for a long moment, and surged brighter again. The elevator chime warbled, yet the doors refused to open.
“Okay?” Anna whispered and approached slowly. She pushed on the doors for a moment but they refused to move. The hall beyond the doors went dark and Anna froze, the sound of her beating heart filling her ears.
The elevator shuddered, and Anna quickly stepped forward, turning sideways and slipping through the narrow opening.
“This place is coming apart at the seams,” she breathed and looked back at the elevator. The doors continued to whine but didn’t move, the lone interior light flickering on and off before finally going dark for good.
1455 Hours
Pain snapped into Jacoby’s body in sharp, biting jolts. The heat remained on the spot long after the security officers pulled their stun batons back. He didn’t want to fight them, to hurt anyone.
What a lie! The voice in his head laughed, another violent urge snapping down his arms.
Of course the other part of him wanted to inflict pain. He could feel it more succinctly now than ever before. It was fiery passion, swinging through uninhibited violence and insatiable lust between every raging heartbeat. He’d been able to ignore it before, but for some reason he’d lost control.
Jacoby knew that little voice well enough, as it had been there since he was a child. But it had always been so small…whispers lending him strength during his darkest moments. As he got older and learned to defend himself it faded to the background. Or had he simply learned to ignore it?
You can’t ignore me anymore, the voice said, as another stun baton jabbed into his ribs. Electricity snapped painfully through his skin, his muscles immediately knotting up and his lungs cramping up.
I kept you safe when father got too rough. I took over when he staggered into your room, piss drunk and angry. That was me that took the beatings, the one that pushed you into that dark place and protected you. You don’t remember the worst of it, thanks to me – the broken noses, loose teeth, fractured fingers and splintered fingernails, and the knife. Where do you think the scars came from? The ones hidden under your hair, on your back and legs?
“That’s not true,” Jacoby argued, “he hit me, slapped me a few times, but it was never that bad!”
“What is wrong with this dude? Seriously, let go…of…his…throat,” a security officer growled, only his mouth visible behind the visor of his helmet.
“I can’t let him get away…with…it. Not anymore…someone has to make him answer for all of the anger,” Jacoby grunted, squeezing Randle’s throat even tighter, fighting the security officer’s attempt to peel his fingers back. But it wasn’t him…he didn’t say it, and he couldn’t seem to control his arm. He pulled Randle away from the wall suddenly and slammed him into the bulkhead again.
“Stop it!” Jacoby yelled, trying to get the angry portion of him to let go. A baton cracked against his arm, while another jabbed painfully into his ribs, fire exploding into his body.
You don’t know the half of it…the half of what I did for you. You just thought you were a brave little boy, a survivor that managed to run away. I am your anger, your suppressed lust from when father caught you looking at naked pictures of ladies.
Randle’s face was reddish-purple, his dark eyes rolling crazily from side to side. But it wasn’t Randle anymore. All Jacoby saw was his father, his complexion ruddy from a combination of drink and dirt.
Randle’s mouth moved, but it was his father’s voice that spoke. “You ain’t worth the credits I gotta drop on ya – the fucking clothes I put on your back, all the food you gotta eat. Ain’t worth any of it. Should’a kicked you out when your mother’s worthless ass ran off.”
He should have. We could have lived somewhere, hell, anywhere else. Or you should have run away. I would have protected us. Someone would have wanted you,” the voice cut in, filling his thoughts. It was so strong now, fighting to take control of his mind and body.
“What is this guy talking about?” a security officer growled as he jumped onto his back and hooked an arm around his neck. The other officer drove his baton into Jacoby’s midsection and then his arm.
“Put him down now, or I’ll…”
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Jacoby gasped and yanked Randle away from the wall. His legs propelled him out of the exam room, his momentum slamming the orderly’s bulk into the wall. He did remember the voice…the seemingly wild urges and quick to anger side of himself from those days. He’d banished the thoughts, told himself they weren’t real.
“Drop him! Let go of his neck…do it now!” the officer growled, tightening his arm around Jacoby’s throat, something hot jabbing into his back again and again.
“Bad R-R-Randle. Bad F-F-Father,” Jacoby growled, smacking the big man into the wall only to pull him back and do it again. But it wasn’t him…the voice or the violence. Any of it.
He flicked the security officer off his back, his body moving automatically. Jacoby watched the man sprawl to the ground, the impact knocking his helmet askew.
He reached up and tried to pull his right arm away from the big man’s throat just as a different voice cut into the chaos.
“Let go of him now!” It was a woman, her voice husky, resonate, and full of authority. Pain flashed in from all sides, but his grip loosened around Randle’s throat. The angry part of him was listening. There was something about the woman’s voice that broke through the fog.
“Stun his arm…stun his arm. I can’t break his freaking grip. How is this dude so strong?” the officer to his left grunted, the man he’d just thrown from his shoulders jamming his stun baton into Jacoby’s leg. The pain was beyond intense, a fire that ripped through his skin, muscle, and bones, but something held him upright. No, not something.
He turned down the hall as another security officer approached. A glowing baton hung from her right hand, her sleek, gunmetal gray helmet clutched in the left. Her fiery red hair was pulled back and up, but he recognized her immediately – green eyes sparkling in the intense, overhead light.
“Red! My fire…my hot, burning fire. You are the one I want,” the angry part of him said, his lips and tongue moving strangely in time with the thought.
His gaze caught Lex’s green eyes, moved down to her full lips, then her neck and down over her formfitting bodysuit and curve-hugging padding and armor. An all-consuming lust grew inside him as blood pounded in his ears and behind his eyes.
“Let him go,” Lex said, her voice rising noticeably. Was she scared, confused?
No, she recognizes us. She remembers us, the angry part of him said and he felt the corded muscles in his right arm release. Randle dropped almost immediately, gagging and coughing, his strangled gasps almost inaudible compared to the riotous beating of Jacoby’s heart.
Jacoby felt his body turn fully towards Lex, when he wanted nothing more than to back away, to run. He could hear the crackle and hu
m of their stun batons, the pronged ends glowing with the angry promise of more pain.
The air around him grew thick, the pressure thrumming in his skull. The odd smell filled the air once again and he watched as Lex’s nostrils flared. She took a half step back, her eyes flashing open. He drew in a breath through his nose – spicy amber cut by something more organic, more palpable.
Lex blinked rapidly and reached up to rub her forehead.
Jacoby took a single step towards her, the angry part of him distracted, his voice quieting. He could feel his right arm again, but more importantly, he could move it.
“I’m sorry…” he started to say, but Lex’s eyes jumped up, her pupil’s contracting and expanding rapidly. Then she growled and lunged.
Jacoby caught a glimpse of the stun baton, the red glow flashing in his vision. A sharp pain erupted in his face, and everything went dark.
1600 Hours
Anna moved out and around the corner from the elevator and turned down the long, curving hall. Only a single overhead light panel was lit ahead, the cool glow bathing an isolated patch of floor and walls. Several others flickered dully, but the rest were dark.
“Just don’t light any candles, people,” she whispered and moved forward, silently hoping to avoid experiencing another sealed environment explosion ever again.
