What was that about?
It wasn’t from the plane. The feeling was deeply rooted somewhere within me, and I couldn’t shake it off. Had I seen him before the incident on the craft? If I had, I couldn’t remember it.
Doctor Aserov followed closely behind him, and the door automatically shut after her. I was more scared of the soldier with the brilliant green eyes than anyone else, especially the good doctor. She was bright in white with blonde hair falling to her shoulders, and the man was dark, intense, and unquestionably much more intimidating. She was carrying a kit full of supplies to collect blood and was beginning to tap things onto the glass screen once more.
Sadly, she had brought actual needles with vials that sucked blood into them like a vacuum instead of the collection paper and pokers. A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold filling the room.
My picture and information spread across the screen in the same fashion as before, and she furiously tapped her fingers on the glass. The only words I could make out were ‘blood’ and ‘sample’. I had known it was coming, and I would be poked with yet another needle, but I had remained hopeful until she’d put it on the computer and had appeared with the blood collection materials.
An image of the man in the white suit and blood-soaked collection paper flashed through my mind, sending tremors throughout my entire body and causing my hands to tighten around the edge of the table. My heart raced at the thought of yet another needle, but mostly at the idea of continuing to lose of pieces of myself into those vials.
My information stayed on the screen as she moved away from it, turned to me, and placed the supplies on the rolling table to my right. The box of gloves she placed there was a shock against the white of her clothes and the white of the room. She took two new purple nitrile gloves out and put them on her hands with a slight snap. I almost jumped at the sound but was able to stop myself. My heart hammered away in my chest as if I had just run a marathon. A cold sweat of anxiety broke out all over my body, causing my hands to be slick on the metal slab.
It was hot in the room, but I forced myself remain calm on the outside, trying not to let my fear show. I chanced a look over at the soldier, and he stood there staring at me as if the shock of recognition had hit him as well. His eyes were wide, showing way too much white, and his slightly tanned skin was turning the same color. During our first meeting, one of us had seemed to feel that pang of familiarity, but being in the same room and required to face each other made it completely different.
I looked down at the floor and then up to Doctor Aserov, who was taking the needle and four vials from their plastic wrappers. Each wrapper made its way into the trash receptacle placed at the end of the metal slab I was sitting on, and the needles and vials to the table.
I gripped the metal slab even harder once she turned to me with the needle.
“I am going to take blood from your other arm, so we don’t have to stop the fluids. I want you to finish the whole bag before we move you,” she said, her voice flat and low.
Something had changed in her. Her voice was no longer the same high, lilting sing-song pitch she’d had when she had first entered the room. She was more professional than before.
I nodded. Nothing I could say would help make her, or me, feel any better about the situation and she had seemed slightly uncomfortable. The entire situation was out of our hands. She eyed the bend of my elbow as if trying to judge if she needed a tourniquet to find a vein she could use, an expression of concentration on her face. She then turned, grabbed a long piece of rubber, wrapped it around my upper arm, and pressed on the most prominent vein.
“Can you please make a fist?” she asked.
I knew she didn’t want to seem pushy, but I also knew I didn’t have a choice. I made a fist, and the vein popped out with ease. After turning my gaze away, I felt the pinch of the needle entering my skin and the vein beneath. Inhaling with a sharp hiss, I held my breath and tried to slow the rapid beating of my heart. I was afraid it may jump up my throat and out of my mouth with how hard and fast it was beating. Like it would run away at the first chance it got.
The soldier watched me out of the corner of my eye, and I tried my best not to glare back at him. Instead, I decided to stare at my photo on the opalescent glass of the computer screen.
“Please unclench your hand,” she requested as she pushed a vacuum vial into the end of the needle.
The pressure caused me to wince as the needle moved under my skin, and the vein rolled around. Every muscle in my body involuntarily tensed. I wasn’t afraid of needles, but after my last two encounters, I didn’t like them very much. I didn’t dare look down at the blood pulling into the vacuum vial, so I tried to find something else to focus on while she filled the other three vials.
My image on the computer screen just wasn’t working for me anymore because I had no will to focus on anything as long as the needle was in my arm and stealing my blood. It was becoming harder and harder to keep my power under control, and it moved around inside of me. I swallowed hard to choke it down. It helped a little, but I could still sense it right below the surface.
A change in tactics was necessary. I took a deep breath in through my nose and let it out through my mouth as I felt the good doctor slide the needle out of my skin and remove the tourniquet, placing a cotton ball over the tiny hole and pushing my arm up to bend at the elbow. I held it in that position and placed my other hand on my forearm to put pressure on the cotton swab. As I watched Doctor Aserov write my name on the white labels stuck to the vials with a marker, I saw that the soldier’s gaze was still fixed on me. He watched me with careful consideration, the wide eyes and shock of recognition gone. He had composed himself.
I only wished I could say the same.
“Okay, once you’re done with that fluid, we will get you transferred to your room. This was only temporary until everyone came out of the paralisix and we could get testing started.” She held her hand out to me and said, “It was very nice to meet you, Mila. I’ll be seeing more of you soon.”
I took her hand in mine again and shook it. My hands were clammy from the stress, but I was sure she wouldn’t mind. When she pulled away, I didn’t even see her wipe her palm on her lab coat.
She then backed away and walked toward the soldier, stopping in front of him and whispering orders. I couldn’t hear the exchange of words exactly, but I could listen to the hiss of her whispers in the silent room. I watched them as he listened to her and nodded, and his eyes met mine for all of a second. They both walked through the door as it opened, but he stopped right outside with his hands crossed in front of him.
So I am hazardous enough to have a guard at my door?
I was left in the room alone again with about a quarter of the bag of fluids left, and then I would be moved somewhere else. My heart began to pick up the pace again as my mind went wild with what could happen next. I shook my head and decided to push all of the stress out of my mind and deal with whatever happened next, no matter how terrified I might be. More than likely none of it would be good, but being petrified and acting stupid wouldn’t help things. I had already shown I was dangerous enough on the plane ride here, and I wasn’t about to make my situation worse.
There was only so much that I could do in a locked room with a guard on duty. I lay down on the cool metal and curled onto my side, never once taking my eyes off the man outside my prison door. All he did was look forward as doctors passed by, white lab coats swaying with each step. It was deafeningly quiet as I laid there and watched him. I hadn’t noticed before, but he was wearing black boots that laced up halfway up his calves, his black cargo pants tucked into them with the precision only a military man would have. Standard military attire from what I could tell. I wondered what color people like me would wear once forced out of the white and sterile hospital clothes. I had been dressed in the white t-shirt and white pants with matching white shoes. Not an inch of color to be found. White was easily stained, and as the
thought crossed my mind, I noticed a small spot of crimson on the alabaster pants I was forced to wear.
After focusing on it for just a few agonizing moments, I had dozed off. When I opened my eyes, the bag of fluid was empty, and there was still very little left in the tube that ran from it to the needle in my arm. It was just enough where it would take possibly another five minutes to work its way through. I sat up and cracked my neck, it making a loud popping sound as I felt the bones pop. There was an urge to stretch, and I gave into it, raising my arms over my head and arching my back. When I looked toward the door, I saw the soldier had turned his head in my direction and watched me intently, his green eyes alive with something that I couldn’t interpret. I had to look away from him as a blush crept into my cheeks, the heat in them unmistakable. I was there, in what I could only describe as the medical equivalent to Hell, and I was blushing because a cute boy had looked at me. Wonderful.
I sighed and let my eyes follow the cold blue lights lining the part of the floor that meets the wall. My headache was gone and from what I could tell I could move without any burning or pain. The lack of pain was something I was happy about, but I wasn’t glad about the original reason I was in that state to begin with. Being kidnapped from my home wasn’t what I wanted to do with my day to say the least. All I could hear was the quiet hush of the room, and then Doctor Aserov walked in, walking up to me and checking the level of the fluids left in the bag. It looked like I was done enough for her to yank the needle out of my arm, the pain raising a yelp from my throat. She smiled up at me as she placed a band aid over where the needle had been, throwing the empty bag, tube, and needle in the red biohazard bin next to the trash can.
“We’re all ready to get you moved,” she said as the soldier glided into the room. “Ryder will be escorting you there.” She smiled at me again, but all I could do was look toward the man who was now lightly gripping the gun holstered on his right hip like it was a lifeline. What was it about me that seemed to scare everyone? Was it my profuse display of power from the plane? If that were the case, I couldn’t help myself. Fear makes you do unexpected things sometimes.
I slipped off the table when Doctor Aserov held her hand out in a, “Please come this way,” gesture. Who was I to say no? I took a step toward the man with the guns and knew I recognized him from somewhere. I just couldn’t put my finger on it, and I was desperate to figure it out. Ryder held his hand out and there was nothing else to do but follow him out of the room.
“Right this way,” he said as his eyes met mine, a smug grin littering his face. His voice was deep and rugged as if he used it to yell a lot. That, I was sure, was the case. I moved past him and out the door, him following closely behind and then taking the lead like the military man he was.
I scrutinized his walk, noticing the calculated, soldierly grace that all service members seemed to have. Usually, the ones who carried themselves like that had slaughtered innocents and could no longer sleep at night, haunted by screams and imaginary gunshots.
As we marched through what I could only assume was a colossal compound, I hoped I wouldn’t end up being one of those innocents that would disturb him until death.
Chapter 10
Next thing I knew, I stood in front of a doorway and stared at it, investigating the contents of the room beyond. I was lucky enough to get my own space, and I was thankful for that much. Ryder stood to my immediate right, both hands on the gun strapped to his chest and ready as if I was going to do something stupid that he would need to correct by shooting me. I could feel laughter rolling up through my chest, and it wanted to come out through my mouth, but I swallowed to stop it. That helped.
His feet were shoulder width apart as he stood there, his face stern and unresponsive to anything I did or said. It was as if he was expecting me to take the proverbial rulebook laid out before me and throw it out the window. I thought that was amusing since I hadn’t even been made aware of what those rules were, let alone handed a guidebook filled with them. It seemed as if none of us had been, so I felt a little less uneasy—but only just a little.
The look on his face as he stared made me want to run away, curl up into a tiny ball, and tuck myself into a dark corner somewhere. Anywhere. It was all I could do to keep myself from dropping to the floor and rocking myself for comfort.
I regarded him and grinned, trying to ease the tension. “Do you stare at all the pretty girls like that, or am I special?” I had to bait him a little bit. Of course, there was no telling how he would react to my little joke, but the look on his face, as well as the circumstances, was making me irritable.
I felt his stare grow even colder after I’d said it, and I began to wonder if it was too late to take it back. As I turned to look at him again, I wished I hadn’t said it at all. I imagined myself snatching the words from the air and hugging them close to my body, trying to keep them from flying away from me again. He cleared his throat and attempted to stifle a smile as he adjusted the gun in his hands. The noise he made was rough and rugged, just like the stubble gracing his jaw and chin.
“Please enter your chamber,” he instructed.
It wasn’t a question. I was going to go in on my own, or he would make me. I decided I would make it easier and go in on my own. I took a profound and steadying breath, raised my foot, and crossed the imaginary line between the outside world and my solitude. There was a soft electric click as I firmly planted both feet on the other side of the doorway. I turned around just in time to see an electric field emerge to keep me inside of the room. It was exactly what I had expected.
I was going to be stuck in that room until someone came to get me, whether it be for more tests, food, or even socializing—if that was allowed. There wouldn’t have been anything more surprising than being permitted to speak to anyone besides the soldiers and doctors.
Ryder stepped in front of the doorway and took a long look at me before saying anything. His green eyes were still as I remembered them from our first meeting—bright green like fresh cut grass. The stubble lining his strong jaw made him look even more illustrious, and his hair was clipped short on the sides and a little longer on top. It was a standard military haircut, just like the clothes on his back.
“I will be by later to collect you for your meal,” he stated.
His voice resonated through my bones. Apparently, I had been out long enough and had been in the examination room long enough to be getting dinner. I had to swallow down the panic that began to rise in the pit of my stomach, wondering how much time had passed. I couldn’t force myself to ask the man, staring at me through the electric field that separated us. That electric field was the only reason I wouldn’t be able to escape.
He backed away a few steps without turning away from me, smirked, and then finally put his back to me, standing in the same fashion as before. I couldn’t see his hands, but I had a feeling that he’d placed them on the gun strapped across his chest. Even I could admit I was intimidated by it. Of course, I would like to find someone who wasn’t apprehensive about it.
Then I remembered the smirk on his face and began to wonder about that. I stood there for a moment and watched his back, but I turned away as fast as I could when he seemed to realize I was staring and turned back to glance at me. Once I looked away, I heard his heavily booted footsteps walking away from my room. He was completely out of sight when I glimpsed up again.
I decided it was time to take a good look at my living quarters. Who knew how long I would truly be in it. I realized the room was just as white and as sterile as the rest of the compound. There was a twin-sized bed to my right and a doorway to my left that led to a restroom that was hidden off to the side for privacy.
They did think of everything, didn’t they?
Soft blue lights lined the ceiling and the floor in both parts of the cabin, making the white of the walls a little bit more tolerable and less antiseptic.
Sitting on the curiously soft bed, I let myself watch the guards walking around and t
aking their posts to ensure everyone’s safety. It was either that, or they wanted to make sure we didn’t get out. I didn’t think anyone was going to be making their way out of the cabins with the electric fields separating us from them.
A familiar face walked past the doorway. It was Julius. I stood and almost ran up the field, my hands reaching out and touching it with a shock. A squeal of pain escaped my parted lips, and there was no way to stop myself from crying out to him.
“Julius,” I wailed.
Then he was there, standing in front of me and trying not to touch the field separating us. Shock and bewilderment crossed his features as if he hadn’t been sure that they had taken the both of us or not. “Julius, do you know about the others?”
“No.” His voice was harsh and breathy as if the fear was taking over everything he did or said.
The soldier behind him took him by the arm and pulled him away, his brown eyes severe. “Step away from the aura, sir.” He pushed Julius forward and away from me, toward his cabin and solitude.
The field separating us was called an aura, which was fitting in a way. It was a soft blue color, just like the lights, and as I viewed him walking away, his stare bored into me as he tried to move forward while the soldier pushed him away. I went to place my hand on the aura, forgetting about the electricity running through it. My hand experienced a slight shock, and I jerked my hand away with a hiss. It was what they wanted. No contact between them and us. It wasn’t just that, though. They didn’t want us being in touch with any of the others without someone there to watch us. I felt as if my privacy and identity had been taken away from me even though this was only an assumption.
Everyone I saw was dressed in white t-shirts, pants, and shoes with no color in sight. I desperately hoped that would change soon, but I knew if it did, it would be to segregate us from everyone else and to mark us for what we were. I stood in front of the doorway to spy as soldiers escorted more and more people in, all of them dressed in the same white outfit as the rest. It was as if they were trying to make all of us the same in an attempt to change the fact that we were different.
The Harvested (The Permutation Archives Book 1) Page 6