“Jericho.” She mumbled. Her words were barely audible. Her eyes were still closed and she fought to slowly regain consciousness. Her eyes fluttered underneath her eyelids. Her breath was still shallow, but slowly her respiration gained in frequency. “Jericho.” She said again softly. Suddenly her eyes opened wide, and she gasped, as she tried to sit up in the bed. Covered by a white sheet, she realized that straps ran across her chest and held her down. For a moment she fought against them. Gradually she stopped the struggle and relaxed back onto the bed, and let her mind take in her surroundings. She was in a small room. All white, as light emitted from the ceiling panels. The room was empty except for the bed in which she lay, but as she looked up and back over her head she saw the sinister many armed mechanical device that rose up behind the bed. At first she was startled, but then realized that it was motionless. As she calmed herself down, she began to remember what had happened. Jericho had jumped in front of the Guardian to protect her. She remembered how he had been controlled. And how the Guardian had raised its stick towards her, with her hand still clamped in the plague scanner.
“The plague.” She said, as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve got the plague.” As she began to cry. The tears streamed down her face, and though she tried to bring her hands to her face to wipe them, the straps that held her in place would not allow her to move her arms. “Oh, poor Jericho.” She wept. To have become so close, she thought. They had been so close to finally becoming linked, and to have it end so. Their plans of a family, brought to a halt, and completely outside of their control. It hurt her heart to think of how close they had come to their new life. Oh why, why hadn’t they applied to be linked before they went to the meal building, she thought. Why, oh why. She laid there and quietly sobbed with her eyes closed. As her mind ran back to their conversations, she knew that their lives were forever changed. She realized that she must now be in quarantine, and the worse part was that she knew that no one ever came back from quarantine.
How could it be? She thought. How could she have the plague? No one she ever knew, not really knew, had ever scanned positive with the plague. How could she have gotten it? How could this be? It must be a mistake, she thought. It just must be. She had to talk to some one. It was obvious. This had been a mistake. She felt fine. Well, except that she felt little disoriented, but that had to be from when the Guardian had hit her with the control stick. She remembered the pain as her muscles had clenched and unclenched involuntarily. She shook her head as if to force herself to forget the feeling. The memories made her realize just what Jericho had been through when he had been controlled, and then interrogated, and those thoughts made her cry harder. Her sobs, echoed throughout the small room, and their sounds made her feel that much more alone.
“Hello!” She yelled expectantly. “Is anybody there?” She yelled out again. Silence came the response. Would she ever see anyone else again? She thought. Would the plague kill her before she ever saw another person? Was she doomed to lie here, strapped down and immobile, until the plague killed her? Would it hurt? Would she be in pain as the plague claimed her life? Would she be alive and awake as she took her last dying breath? She wondered about her Mom and her Dad? A fresh round of tears overcame her, as she thought about her brother? What about Jericho’s sister, Rebecca, and his Dad? Wouldn’t they miss her? Would they mourn for her? Would they hope that she might come back? Gradually her tears began to subside as she realized that it was not just her life, and Jericho’s life that had forever changed. All of their lives had been changed. She sniffed, and tried to wipe her eyes against her shoulder to clear them. This was a mistake, and she was not going to stand for it. As she began to focus her mind on getting a hold of herself, she thought that she needed to learn more about where she was. What might be in this room that could tell her more. What could be in this room that might help her to get free of these straps.
As she refocused, she relaxed back onto the bed, and began to test her bindings. She could feel the strap across her chest, and felt that it went over her upper arms before going down to the bed. She could feel that her wrists had straps around them as well, and that they too were attached to the bed. She could feel a strap across her pelvic area that had been pulled very tight, to the point that she could barely move. There was another strap at about knee level, and then she could feel two other straps. Each wrapped around her ankles, and these too appeared to be attached to the bed. She was wide awake now, with no sense of the disorientation that she had felt when she first woke up. If she could just get one hand free, she thought, she would have a chance to get herself loose from her bindings. Slowly and patiently she began to work both wrists back and forth against the straps to see how they might be attached, and to see if there might be any slack.
She could feel a small bit of slack on her left wrist, but as she continued to work that wrist back and forth, the amount of slack did not increase in the slightest. The good news, she told herself, was that the amount of slack did not lessen either, so she continued to work her wrist back and forth. Occasionally she stopped to rest her wrist, and would then check the slack on the remaining straps. There also was a little slack on the strap across her chest, but try as she might, this would increase none. Regardless of what she did, she could not feel any slack in the ankle straps, nor could she create any. She began to work at her wrist strap again, and knew that if she could get her hand free, at least she would have a fighting chance of being able to release the rest of the straps. Suddenly she heard what sounded like a muffled cough.
“Hello?” She yelled out. The response was silence once again. She felt certain she had heard someone cough. It was muffled as though maybe it came from an adjacent room, but it was human just the same. It could not have been a Guardian. Of that she was certain. “Hey!” She yelled. “Can you hear me?” More silence. “Anybody?” There was still no sound in response. She went back to working her wrist back and forth. It might be her imagination, she realized, but she felt like there was a tiny bit of more slack in her wrist strap than before, and she attacked it with a new purpose. She hoped that she had at least made some progress. She heard the coughing sound again.
“Hey!” She yelled. “Hey, can you hear me?” She strained to hear if there was any response. “Hello?” She called out again. No response. She sighed, shook her head and went back to work at her wrist. She was sure now, that the slack had increased. Still not enough to get her hand loose, but enough to let her know that she was on the right track. She rested her arm again, which had begun to ache from her efforts. She worked at the other straps and now realized that she had made progress on the strap that held her left leg. Not much slack, she told herself, but some. Again, she heard the coughing sound.
“Hey!” She yelled again, not expecting a response. She continued to work on her wrist strap.
“Hello?” a muffled voice responded. Then more coughing.
“Hello!” Gabrielle yelled, as she held still to better hear the faint voice. It sounded like a woman.
“Help me.” The voice said weakly, and then more coughing.
“Hello?” Gabrielle yelled. “Can you hear me?” She asked directly.
“Yes.” The voice responded. “Yes, I can hear you.” It said, and sounded stronger now, though still muffled.
“Are you alone?” Gabrielle asked.
“Uh…yes. Yes I’m alone.” It answered. “Who are you?” It asked.
“Gabrielle.” She answered. “I’m Gabrielle. What’s your name?”
“Allison…I’m Allison.” She replied.
“Allison. Where are we? Is this Quarantine?” She asked expectantly.
“Quarantine?” Allison’s muffled voice said. “Yeah, I guess so.” She coughed again. “Yeah, Quarantine.” She said.
“How long have you been here?” Asked Gabrielle.
“How long?” She responded, and then coughed again. It was obvious to Gabriell
e that Allison had been asleep or possibly drugged, and fought her way through the confusion into consciousness, as she slowly came to her senses.
“Hello. Allison. Are you still there?” Gabrielle asked. Seconds ticked by in silence.
“Yeah. I’m here.” She answered.
“How long have you been here?” Gabrielle asked again.
“I…I don’t know.” Allison answered.
“You don’t know?” Gabrielle asked. The disbelief came through in her voice.
“I don’t remember.” Allison responded, as she began to softly cry. Puzzled, Gabrielle began to wonder how she could not know how long she had been in Quarantine, and just as quickly, she realized that she herself did not know how long she had been here. It could have been minutes, because that’s how long since she had awoken, strapped to this bed. Or it could have been days. She had no way to know how long she herself had been unconscious.
“Where is everybody else?” Gabrielle asked, as she returned to her struggles with the straps that held her down.
“Everybody?” Allison asked. “What everybody?”
“Everybody.” Gabrielle answered. “You know. The others in Quarantine.”
“I’ve never seen anyone else.” Allison answered. “You’re the first person I’ve even heard since I’ve been here.” This dismayed Gabrielle. How could that be? She thought. There had to be more people in Quarantine. There had to be. It could not just be the two of them, she thought. Could it? She continued to work at her straps, and she was sure now that the wrist strap had given way a bit, as it loosened slightly from around her wrist. Her arm ached from the effort, and the skin on her wrist felt raw from the constant strain against the binding. She relaxed and laid still for a moment to regain her strength. As she lay there, she thought she heard a sound. Not something loud, and not easily definable, but a rhythmic sound. A sound she almost felt more than heard. A sound it seemed she should recognize, but could not place. Gradually the faint sound began to increase in volume, and suddenly she remembered what the sound was. It was footsteps. The footsteps of a Guardian.
“Allison?” Gabrielle called out.
“Shh” Allison responded. “They’re coming.” She said quietly. The footsteps got louder and louder, and then suddenly stopped, seemingly right outside of the room where Gabrielle lay. She moved back into action, and struggled harder to release her hand. The sound of a door as it slid open reached her, but her door remained shut. She continued to struggle. More footsteps, and then again the sound of a door as it slid shut. She could hear muffled moans that must have been Allison. Suddenly her hand slipped out of the strap, and it was free. Stunned at first by her success, she could only look at her free hand, but then came the scream.
“No! Don’t!” Allison yelled, and screamed again. Then as quickly as it came, the scream faded, as if she had fallen into unconsciousness again. Gabrielle reached across her body and used her free hand, and began to work at the strap on her other hand. Though she could no longer hear Allison, what she heard now was even more frightening. As she was able to release her other hand, there were mechanical sounds. It sounded like gears as they whirred. Now she worked quickly at the strap across her chest, moments later she had it loose and was able to sit up. She tossed the sheet that covered her aside, and realized for the first time that she was naked. She started to work on the strap across her waist. The whirring sound became louder, almost to that of a whine, and then came a sound that made her stomach turn. A loud whining grinding sound like that sounded like metal against stone. The strap across her waist came free, and she quickly moved to the strap across her legs when came loose almost immediately. She scrunched to the bottom of the bed and began to work on the strap that held her left foot. The whining sound continued to start and stop. Her left foot came free, and she started on her right foot, but had trouble with the angle. She scrunched up a little more, and shifted her weight to better access the strap. The strap released, and she jumped up from the bed.
When her bare feet hit the floor, she nearly fell. Though quite conscious and awake mentally, she must have laid there quite a while. She realized her feet and legs felt slightly numb. She bent down and grabbed the sheet, and wrapped it around her in a makeshift covering, as she tied it in place. She quickly surveyed the room from her new vantage point. White smooth walls, with the only break in the starkness the barely visible outline of the door, and of course the bed, with the mechanical monstrosity looming behind it. From this viewpoint, it sent a stroke of terror through her. Its multiple gleaming metal arms rose up from behind the bed, and each ended in a sharp surface, or needles, or fierce round jagged edge blades. She stepped away from it impulsively, and was thankful that she was no longer strapped to the bed beneath it. She had backed herself against the wall next to the door, and now turned and began to look for an access panel to make the door open. The horrible whirring and whining sounds had ended, and once again there was silence.
She laid her hands against the wall on either side of the door, and looked for a depression, or anything raised to indicate a way to open the door. As she worked her way around the door twice, she had found nothing. She pushed against the door, but did not expect it to open out, nor did she expect it to open in. It looked like the type of door that would slide open. She lay her palms against the door, and began to try to slide it to the left, and then to the right. But regardless of what she tried, the door remained immobile. She stepped back, and adjusted her makeshift tunic. She gathered her thoughts, and her eye caught the machine attached to the bed. As afraid of it as she was, she recognized that she may be able to make use of it, or at least part of it, in order to help her escape. She cautiously approached it, and began to look over its many appendages to see if there may be an arm or lever she could detach to use as a pry bar to help her to open the door. One arm, which ended in a shiny sharp knife like object looked as though it might the easiest to get loose. She held her breath as she reached up to grab it, careful of the sharp edge as it gleamed in the overhead light. She wrapped her hands around the arm, put her foot on the edge of the bed, and began to pull. It did not move. She yanked at it, but there was no give in the arm. She shifted her position, so that she could put more weight into her efforts and once again yanked against the immobile arm. Her grip slipped, and she tumbled backwards to the floor. She landed on her back hard and rapped her head against the cold hard smooth floor.
She lay there for a moment, dazed by the blow to her head and tired from all of her efforts. As she lay there she breathed hard. She blinked under the glare of the overhead lights. Gradually, the pain in the back of her head began to subside, and her breathing began to relax. She sat up and faced the bed as its multi-armed contraption still loomed over it. She began to get up, and stumbled as she did. She was dizzy from the knock to her head. She gained her feet, stood there a moment, and let the wave of dizziness pass through her. She touched the spot on the back of her head that had hit the floor, and when she pulled her hand back, she could see the spot of blood on it clearly in the glare from the ceiling lights. Suddenly the door slid open. She turned to face the Guardian as it loomed before her. As her mind tried to grasp the vision before her, her stomach still flip flopped from the dizziness. Her eyes blinked under the glare. She recognized the unmistakable movement from the Guardian, as it raised its control stick. She knew she should pull back. That she should jump back. That she should roll out of the way. But she stood frozen as the control stick brushed against her make-shift tunic. Her eyes went wide, as she felt the control stick move the cloth closer to her body. And as it made contact with her side, she felt the world drop out from beneath her, and the darkness took her.
Chapter 14
Immortal Page 13