by Danielle
Dr. Heinz jumped up and held Oliver down. He hissed “Quiet. I am trying to help you.” The door to the room swung open, and Dr. Heinz immediately let go of Oliver and sat straight up.
“Dr. Heinz. Is there a problem with the patient?” A nurse entered the room.
He turned around and smiled. “No, no. He’s just adjusting to the medication. I’m going to increase his dose. It should make him calmer.”
“Do you need assistance?”
“No, I’ve got it under control. Thanks for your help.” Dr. Heinz watched as the door shut behind her before turning his attention back to Oliver. “I can’t stay any longer for today. But I will be back. Remember, don’t move too much.”
Initially baffled by Dr. Heinz’s instructions, they soon became infinitely clearer as Oliver’s head did. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but his vision cleared significantly and his arms felt lighter. The lone window in the hospital room was his only indication of time. When soft rays began peeking through the curtain, the nurses came in on cue. As if rehearsed prior to entry, one nurse came and drew blood again. Oliver closed his eyes and let his arm fall limp. He bit the inside of his mouth to avoid flinching when the needle went in. A second nurse changed his bed pan, and they were off again. As the day went on, Oliver felt his strength returning. When Dr. Heinz entered the room that afternoon, he sat up.
“Take it easy. Recovery is going to be a slower process than you were hoping for, I’m afraid. But you will recover?” He said, apologetically.
“What did they give me?” Oliver’s temple still seared with pain.
“A terrible cocktail. All designed to keep you unconscious. Unaware.” Dr. Heinz touched Oliver’s arm. “Can you feel that?” He pressed a finger into Oliver’s lower arm.
Oliver nodded. “Sort of. What’s happening?”
Dr. Heinz looked at him and sighed for what felt like eternity. “After the disappearance of a good portion of the senior class, there were rumblings among the administrators that new precautions needed to be taken.” He gestured around the room. “That it was happening again.”
“What’s happening again?” Oliver asked.
“This year marks my 45th year working at Delafontaine.” “You were here in the very beginning.” Oliver said, in awe.
“I was, I was.” Dr. Heinz raised his head up with pride. “Delafontaine once began as a home for those just like you. A safe place for those who had been run out of everywhere else due to no fault of their own. The very first Dean was like you. When she passed, Delafontaine became something else entirely.”
“How?”
“We started accepting all types of students. Because contrary to what you might think, not fitting in isn’t exactly unique to your kind.” Dr. Heinz winked. “It was good at first. Great even. Students came from all over. We had the best program in the country. We had the best home. But then, everything came crashing down.” Dr. Heinz had a faraway look in his eyes, now. “Students began to clash. Administrators, too. Some felt like students with your gifts couldn’t be trusted. That they were treated better than the “regulars”, I think that’s what they called them. Too many people agreed. It was from there that our focus shifted---not without quite a bit of turnover of course. Administrators that sympathized with the original cause were sniffed out, leaving nothing but hatred for everyone else. Our mission changed. Now, it was about keeping everyone equal. We would still look for students with these gifts. They hoped that any gifts could be stamped out by strict discipline, medicine, and if necessary, brute force.”
“Is that true?” Oliver found himself desperately wanting to know the answer. Dr. Heinz shook his head.
“They’ve been taking blood for me for almost twenty years now. Dean Tenbrook wants to know the science behind it all, but I keep telling her that it’s not just science that causes this. I don’t believe that.”
“What do you believe?” Oliver asked.
Dr. Heinz looked down at Oliver and smiled. “I believe that people develop these gifts based on what they really need most. Sometimes they come and go. Sometimes they last a lifetime. It is said that people develop adaptive defensive measures when situations are too painful. It’s amazing what the human body can do. This---This is born of circumstance, not of genetics. Like so many things about us. This gift of yours is as much you as what you like to eat, or what you like to read. This can’t be replicated or produced in a lab because we cannot replicate you.”
“Why would anyone want to deal with this? It’s not a gift, it’s a curse.” Oliver said, and he felt his eyes misting over.
Dr. Heinz smiled, still. “Ah, but that’s just it, isn’t it? I suppose it depends on how you look at it. Who is more fortunate, the man who can adapt, or the man who doesn’t need to?”
“Why are you helping me?”
“I used to be like you, once. Not anymore. I’m old now.” Dr. Heinz chuckled. “I don’t think I have a need for it anymore.”
“Where’s Malachi?” In a panic, Oliver suddenly remembered the full course of events in Dean Tenbrook’s office.
“Stay calm. Malachi is in the next room over. He’s doing fine, but like you, he’ll need time to recover before you leave.”
“Leave?” Oliver felt a bit like a deer in the headlights.
Dr. Heinz’s eyes twinkled. “Of course. Did you think I was helping you into a grave? You’ll need a few more days before the medicine wears off completely. I’ll be checking on you and Malachi both.”
“What about Robert?” Dr. Heinz’s smile suddenly shrank and Oliver’s heart thudded. “Oliver. He is here, in the hospital.”
“Can I see him?”
“Oliver.” Dr. Heinz said again, more slowly the second time. “I want you to know that they got to him first. He’s been here longer than you. There wasn’t a lot I could do.”
“I want to see him now.”
“I can’t. It would arouse too much suspicion. But I will look into it.
“What did they do to him?” Oliver asked, in a barely audible whisper. Perhaps, he thought, if he refused to speak the nightmare into existence, everything would be fine.
Dr. Heinz’s lips flattened into a thin line. “Unfortunately, I think the more appropriate question is what they didn’t do. Dean Tenbrook didn’t take kindly to his protection of you.” A sick feeling rose in Oliver’s stomach as he realized that Robert had been hurt protecting him. Protecting Malachi. Protecting everyone. He felt a flash of anger as Malachi’s words came floating back into his mind. Robert, he thought, was not a casualty. He was a friend, and Oliver intended to prove that.
The next few days crept by as Oliver’s strength slowly came back. By Thursday, he could move both his arms---provided they weren’t strapped down---and both his legs by Friday. He easily fell into the sleeping routine when the nurses came in, and he watched how the sun peeked through the curtains to tell him when Dr. Heinz would be arriving. Right on cue, as soon as the sun began to trickle in from the right corner of the window, the door opened and Dr. Heinz walked in. Oliver sat straight up, eager to stretch out his arms. It was difficult pretending to be unconscious for hours at a time, he had to admit.
“How are you today?”
“I feel great.” Oliver said, and it was partially true anyway.
“What are they doing out there?” Dr. Heinz shook his head and put his hand to his chin. “The school is on lockdown. Anyone caught discussing the---what was it?”
“The Disciples” Oliver interjected.
“---Is brought down here.” Dr. Heinz finished.
“Where is here?” Oliver asked, realizing that he had no idea where he was.
“This, is the basement of the Delafontaine Research Lab.” “What? Why?” Oliver asked. “Because like I told you, the powers that be want you studied. Examined. They want to know why.” He shook his head and frowned. “It’s not the kind of question you simply answer, however.” Dr. Heinz got the faraway look in his eyes again. “But, more importa
nt matters lie ahead. Where do you plan to go after leaving Delafontaine?
Oliver swallowed hard at the question. Admittedly, he had given it no thought. Oliver supposed the impact simply hadn't reached him yet. He had never been anywhere that he felt comfortable in, let alone one that deserved the coveted title of “home”. Oliver wondered if this was it then, the moment that launched years of wandering. He shook his head at Dr. Heinz, because not only had he given it no thought, the prospect of home seemed more far-fetched than the reality that he currently lived in.
“You know, there is a place.” Dr. Heinz said as he adjusted Oliver’s IV.
“Where?” Oliver asked.
Dr. Heinz smiled grimly. “The trouble is, I don’t know where, exactly.” “You don’t know where?” Oliver repeated, and he cringed as Dr. Heinz jiggled the needle in his arm a little too hard.
Dr. Heinz sat back in his chair. “I’ve only heard of it. I don’t know how true it is.” Dr. Heinz paused. “I don’t want to get your hopes up.” Oliver shook his head, tempted to say that it was fine, and his hopes were in the gutter anyhow, but decided against it at the last minute.
“Go on.” He said, instead.
“There were rumors, long ago. Back when I was a little older than you. It was said that there was a place that operated as a safe refuge for your kind.”
“Safe like Delafontaine?” Oliver laughed. Dr. Heinz smiled. “No. Still safe. I’ve heard that people make the pilgrimage every year.” Oliver’s heart started beating a little faster, betraying his latent excitement.
“So, where is it, then?”
Dr. Heinz shrugged. “I can’t say. For safety reasons, the location is kept very private.” A light bulb went off in Oliver’s head. “A student who used to go here sent a letter to Owen. He said he went somewhere.”
“What student?” Dr. Heinz asked, sharply. “Damien---I don’t know. He graduated several years ago—Oliver stopped short. He considered telling Dr. Heinz about the book, but a tiny voice inside his head urged him not to.
Dr. Heinz was silent for a moment. “He’s sending letters back?” Oliver nodded, unsure of what else to say. “He made it then. He most certainly did.” Dr. Heinz smiled proudly.
“So, the rumors then, of certain students never graduating from Delafontaine…” Oliver began, nervously.
Dr. Heinz’s mouth drooped slightly. “They are somewhat true.” He said, softly. “But some students, your kind, escape like Damien.” “And the rest, if found to be acting any way other than normal are subject to…this.”
Oliver sat up abruptly. “Are you saying there are other students trapped in here right now?”
Dr. Heinz nodded his head, sadly. “What’s left of them, anyway.”
Oliver thought immediately of Robert, and his chest burned with ire. “You don’t do anything?”
Dr. Heinz looked slightly ashamed. “I can’t rescue those who don’t want saving, Oliver.”
Oliver fell quiet, not sure if he was more disgusted or disturbed by what he had just learned. He wondered, briefly, how things might have transpired if he never stepped foot into Owen’s room that night. Would he have continued on to graduation, with Paul, all the while pretending to be normal as best he could? He looked down at his hands. It would have been harder, but would it, Oliver thought, be harder than this?
“You know, Oliver, not everyone is meant to fit in. It’s not an easy thing, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing either.”
“How do I get out of here?” Oliver asked.
Dr. Heinz looked over his shoulder to confirm that the door to the room was still firmly shut. “Well, I expect you’ve got enough of your strength back. Tomorrow, I will make a bit of a distraction, which should allow you and Malachi enough time to get out. When you do, make sure to head towards the forest and not through town. You will be spotted.”
“Will they follow us?”
“Yes. But I trust you can make it. And remember, the second I give you the signal tomorrow, I can no longer help you. Go when I tell you to.” Oliver nodded, but his thoughts lingered on Robert. Dr. Heinz patted him on the leg and left the room, leaving Oliver to his thoughts.
The next day found Oliver racing with adrenaline he didn’t know that he still had. It was even more difficult to seem unconscious when the nurses came in, as he was certain his heartbeat would give him away. But the nurses walked away assuming nothing was amiss, and as soon as they did Oliver ripped the IVs from his arm. The door to the room opened, and he shrank back under the covers until he saw Dr. Heinz’s graying hair. Today, it was a bit wild as if he had been running his fingers through it. He sat down and applied several band aids to Oliver’s arm before looking up at him. “Are you ready?” Oliver nodded.
“Alright. I’m going to pull the fire alarm and insist that there’s an issue with my lab equipment. This should give you enough time to get Malachi and get out. He is in room 008. Do not deviate, because you will only have fifteen minutes at most. Here, I’ve brought you a change of clothes and a backpack with supplies.” Oliver nodded again.
“And you’re feeling alright? Level headed?”
“I am.”
“Then, good luck, Oliver.” Dr. Heinz gave him one last look over before sweeping from the room. He leaped up and changed into the tee shirt and jeans and shouldered the pack. It was quite heavy, and something rattled around inside. He moved forward and pressed his ear against the door. He heard the hum of chattering nurses standing outside his door, hospital beds rolling, and phones ringing.
The sound of the fire alarm startled Oliver even though he was fully expecting it. The lights in the room flashed, bright and blinding. The doorknob turned slightly, and Oliver’s heart froze. “No, no. There’s been an accident in the lab. I need all hands down there immediately. The patients will be fine…the lab, however.” Dr. Heinz’s voice came smoothly amidst the chaos and the doorknob stopped turning and footsteps pounded away.
The fire alarm blared still, but as he no longer heard voices, Oliver yanked open the door and sprinted down the hallway towards Malachi’s room. He skidded in to find Malachi adjusting his backpack straps.
“How are you?” Oliver asked, breathlessly.
“Great. We’ve got enough food in here to last us at least a week. Money, too. Ready?”
“Y—Yes.” Oliver said, hesitantly. Malachi shot his a strange look, but he finished strapping on his backpack and headed toward the door.
They stepped out into the hallway. It was as empty. Voices could be heard in the distance. “This way, this way.” Malachi ushered him down the hallway. “Now, we head for the forest. Find the sewage tunnel.”
“Then what?” Oliver asked.
Malachi shrugged. “We’ll figure that out when we get there. Go, go go.”
They hurried down what seemed like endless corridors before Malachi shouted “There it is!” At the end of the southwest wing, in which they stood, there was a low window, slightly ajar.
Malachi ran towards it. “Here, help me up.” Oliver started, but something caught his eye. The room all the way down the hall, was a patient’s room and he squinted his eyes to see better. It read “Room 012. Reeves.”
“Oliver!” Malachi snapped.
“I just—
“Let’s go. Help me up!” Malachi demanded. Oliver hoisted Malachi on his shoulder and he crouched on the ledge of the window sill. “What are you doing? He hissed. Oliver’s eyes wandered back to Robert’s door, though he was at a loss for words.
“I’m just going to---
The fire alarm stopped wailing.
“Oliver!” Malachi hissed again.
“Go, just go without me. I’ll catch up.” Malachi’s jaw dropped, but he pushed open the basement floor window. “I have one more thing to do.” Malachi looked at him wordlessly before shaking his head and disappearing into the night.
Oliver turned and walked lightly down the hallway, jumping at every sudden noise. Each door along the hallway was closed, with
the blinds pulled all the way down. Oliver stopped at each, peering into the darkness, bewildered, before coming across the final door of the hallway. The shades were pulled up, but only just enough that Oliver could see the silhouette of a bed inside. Oliver pushed open the door to Robert’s hospital room.
The room felt like ice. Oliver wasn’t sure that any living thing could survive inside. He looked over his shoulder before ducking in. The hallway was dark, and not yet repopulated by the nurses. He still had time. The room was as dark as the hallway, and in the very center sat a bed. A figure was curled up beneath the covers, surrounded by a bastion of large hospital pillows. Oliver walked up slowly, unable to tear his eyes away from Robert's unusually slender form. He stood over the bed, and his eyes grew misty at the sight. Robert was mostly covered in blankets, but his upper shoulder stuck out, and the outline of bone was apparent. His hospital gown seemed three sizes too big, and his hair was plastered to his skull with a perspiration that couldn't possibly have been from the room.
"Robert?" Robert’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. It took them several minutes to focus before Oliver saw the telltale signs of recognition within.
"How are you?" Robert’s eyes darted around, and he made a motion to rise from beneath the covers, but after a few seconds of trying he lay back against the pillows, exhausted. He opened his mouth, and Oliver took the cue to lean in.
He strained his ears to hear the whisper---a fraction of Robert's former voice. "You need to run. It’s not safe here for you. You have to go, now." Robert's crackling voice reminded Oliver of his mother. He looked down, and Robert was staring at him, eyes wide with fear and resignation.
"What? Okay, let's go now." Oliver started towards the door.