E52

by Shawna Stewart Lowther

Doing as told, I push my body against the door and close it.

  “Who were you speaking to?” The man asks.

  “No one,” Bill answers. “Why?”

  “I heard you whispering,” Sam states.

  The conversation goes silent for a second.

  “I think your going crazy,” Bill chuckles. “Maybe you got bit by one of those mice.”

  “Very funny,” Sam snickers. ‘Let's just get this done. I don’t want to be anywhere in this building when they start bringing in E53. I heard they are the worst of them all.”

  “They are still people,” Bill snaps.

  “Not anymore,” Sam states, “not anymore.”

  The sounds of the man's boots are heavy on the floor as together they walk away.

  Chapter Seven

  Having the confidence that Bill will be back at midnight but not knowing what time it is I decide to relax and try to think of better things to come; like seeing my husband and making our unborn child well. Quickly my pleasurable thoughts turn for the worst when I begin to think of the possibility that if my child is not born soon that he could rip through my stomach.

  Glancing down I place both my hands on my stomach and rub my tummy gently. “You would never hurt mommy would you.” I state.

  As if to have heard me the baby moves. For the first time in days, I smile. I continue to rub my stomach. I can not imagine what the baby will look like or the damage they have done to the fetus from the drugs they had been injecting in me. But no matter what happens I will love him or her.

  “I hope you have your daddy's beautiful color of eyes,” I whisper to the baby. “He has the prettiest eyes.”

  A terrible thought comes to mind. Will he look at me not with love but as a meal that he wants to devour?

  I lose control. Angered by the thought I slam my fist on the ground. “You assholes!” I scream out.

  My voice echoes through the room.

  “You are such an idiot,” I think to myself. “If anyone is around they heard you!”

  Feared I leap my seat grab the dirty towel and scurry over to the darkest corner of the room and sit against the wall. Because what I have done I will remain in the darkened corner until Bill comes for me. There will be no more relaxation time for me on the cot or the chair.

  “How could you be so careless?” I think in my head, agitated with myself.

  Completely mortified I lay down on the floor and curl in a fetal position. My exhaustion overtakes my fear and within minutes I can feel myself fading into unconsciousness.

  “No!” I scream in my head, sitting back up. “You can not fall asleep now!”

  As I continue to fight my tiredness I talk within my inner conscience trying to convince myself to stay awake.

  “You have to stay awake,” I tell myself.

  My inner thoughts are interrupted when I hear voices in the distance. The argument within my head ceases; my attention is now elsewhere.

  I peer through the dankness and out to the lighted area of the room.

  There is no one in the room; but the voices sound as if they are coming from somewhere close. With caution I stand up and walk to the edge of the wall. I can see the stairs from here so I glance down at the door. It is still closed. I walk over to the east window.

  “The sound is coming from down there,” I think to myself.

  Frightened that I will be seen I crouch down on the floor and peek over the edge of the windowsill. The room I had seen with the incubators yesterday is clearly visible. The area is no longer vacant of people nor are the incubators.

  Hundreds of babies occupy the room and from what I can see there appears to be a nurse for every ten babies.

  “I can’t believe this.“ I whisper. “There is so many more than what I remember seeing in the other building.”

  Curious I sit and watch as the nurses insert feeding tubes down the baby's throats and into their little bellies. They inject a vile of medicine then rip the tubes back out.

  As soon as the medicine enters their bellies, the babies let out a growl. Their tiny bodies go into frenzy and within seconds they are no longer innocent and sweet newborns. Like a creature you would see in a horror movie the children claw at the nurses. Carefully the nurses place gloves on the baby's hands and muzzles across their mouth, protecting them from the poison that runs through the baby’s veins.

  I want to yell, “Stop hurting these children”, but I dare not.

  If they were to find me I am certain that my baby would have the same destiny.

  Tears fill my eyes. I want to help each and every one of them, but I know I can’t. I need to get off this compound and let the public know what they are doing in this place of terror.

  Hours go by as I sit and watch. It is impossible to know what time it is because I can not see outside. I do not know if it is morning and Bill has for some reason not been able to come or if midnight is only minutes away. Whatever the case may be, I wish that Bill would get here soon so that maybe, “he” can stop them.

  Time continues to pass by but he never comes. I can not watch anymore, I lower my head.

  “Please save the babies,” I pray.

  Just as I am finishing my prayer an alarm begins to beep so loudly that I can feel the vibration through my entire body. I peer down at the babies in fear that something has gone wrong. Everything appears to be as it was.

  The sound continues to pound in my head, eating at my sanity.

  “Make it stop!” I scream certain that my screams will remain unheard.

  The alarm stops but the insanity does not. Now the entire area is overcome by the eerie sounds of women bellowing out. Their screams are not like the ones I had heard before. These are cries for help, cries of women in horrific pain.

  I glance down at the nursery. The sound is not coming from there. There in another window but it is covered by a piece of wood that blocks the entire glass, the sounds must be coming from that area. I peek through a small hole in the wood. From here I can clearly see the other room. The room below houses the mothers of the newborn children.

  Hundreds of women are hooked up to the machines I had seen earlier. They are all on life support. Their bodies twitch out of control, then as if forced into a coma they lie silent . I am confused.

  “Why?” I question, peering out the window.

  I gasp, when I realize what is happening.

  The women are having their blood filtered into a machine. The machine is being used to continue the flow of blood in their body. Their hearts are no longer powered by their own blood flow, but are now beating with the help of a machine that forces the movement. They are not alive; the people who brought them here are merely keeping their flesh alive.

  “No!” I scream in my head as I watch a man in a white coat walk over to one of the women. He holding a baby in his arms. “What is he going to do with that baby?’

  The baby’s flesh has a gray hue about it and his face is deformed. From what I can see his eyes are black and lack any life. He reminds me of a demon.

  The man sets the baby on the woman’s stomach. The baby squirms, but the man does not notice. I can not help but have compassion for the child even though it is obvious that he is a product of a terrible experiment. My motherly instincts take over and I fear that the baby will roll off and get hurt.

  He pulls out a tray and takes a scalpel from the many instruments that lies on the metal surface. He reaches for the ladies arm and unstraps it. She does not move. He takes her arm and lifts it up. Taking the scalpel he slices deep into her flesh, cutting a large chunk from her arm. Blood gushes from her wound. The man then takes a baby bottle that is half filled with baby formula, leans it against her arm and lets the blood pour inside. The woman remains motionless as he places a rag on her wound and grabs the baby. The baby is now crying, but like no other cry I have heard come from a child. The sounds coming from he is that of a starved animal.

  The man in white places the bottle of blood and formula mixture through a s
mall hole in the muzzle. The baby becomes frenzied and although it is obvious by the size of the baby that he is a newborn, he does not act like that of a baby that was born recently. He is strong and can hold his head up. He holds the bottle in his little hands and continues to drink the bloody mixture.

  “Oh my god,” I cry. “They really have made monsters.

  I wipe the tears from my eyes.

  “How could someone be so heartless,” I sob. “Not only are these babies dead-like, all these women are the same. How many lives have they destroyed for their experiment?”

  The baby drinks the contents of the bottle within seconds and then begins to cry again. The man takes the mask off of the baby then takes the piece of flesh that he had cut from the mom’s arm and places it in the baby’s mouth. The baby gnaws on it like a teething ring, devouring it. He is no longer crying.

  I cringe.

  Others come from the other room, all holding crying babies. They line up beside her bed and take turns cutting into her flesh, filling the bottles and feeding the other babies parts of her body. There are at least a hundred babies that need to be fed so it does not take long for her to be nothing but a skeleton lying on a bloody sheet. Once her body is used up, They shoot her in the head and then place a black tarp with words “others” over her body and wheel her out.”

  I bury my face in my hands and cry.

  “I have a monster just like them in my stomach,” I cry. ‘I want it out!”

  I look down at my stomach. I can not bare the thought of something so hideous growing inside me, but at the same time I pray that my baby will be different and that David will find me in time to give me the antidote and help me and our unborn child.

  I sit down on the cot and try to relax but my mind refuses. What I have just witnessed is weighing heavy in my mind, and will not allow me to think of anything but the horror around me.

  “Think of them as just babies, cute little babies,“ I try to convince myself, repeating the words in my head.

  With great defiance I am able to trick my mind; their haunting faces now that of cute little newborns sleeping quietly in their mothers arms. I close my eyes and imagine them growing into healthy children, playing in a yard and laughing.

  Hours go by and what seems to be in increments of every four hours the babies are given another dose of the drug and the feeding ritual starts again. Every time a different woman being devoured... every time the babies grow tremendously. At first I thought that they were bringing in different age children to feed but after watching them for hours I realized that they were they same children. With their rate of growth they will be that of a ten year old child within a matter of a week, a full grown man within a month. I find it hard to believe that a human body can grow in such a manner. I watch in amazement.

  By the end of the night the babies; now the size of a toddler and walking, are moved to a cage and although their hunger is never thoroughly satisfied the toddlers do not turn on one another.

  Using a hatch on top of the containment area they continue to feed the babies by dropping what women are left in to the cage. Every time a woman is dropped in it only takes seconds for the children to devour her. The cage becomes that of a graveyard as the decaying bodies remain inside. The children do not play, they do not make a noise and remain lifeless until it is feeding time again. To watch them feed is like witnessing piranhas attacking a wounded animal.

  The nurses are excused from work, leaving fewer people in the room.

  “Maybe that means Bill will return soon...” I whisper to myself.

  A sharp pain shoots through my stomach as it tightens up. I crouch down and hold my lower abdomen.

  “Not now,” I whisper.

  The pain is familiar to me. I had felt the same pain when I was in labor with my first child. I can not have this baby now. They will hear him cry and they will find us both.

  I try to relax. Another pain shoots through my stomach. I have no way of telling how far apart the contractions are but they appear to be coming every ten minutes. I am scared.

  “I can’t wait any longer.” I think in my head.

  Peeking through both windows I see that only a couple of people remain. I have no other choice I must find my husband so that he can help me.

  Crouched over in pain I walk down the stairs and down to the door. Slowly I lean against the door and listen. The area of the pantry is quiet, feeding into my confidence that I will be able to leave and not be seen.

  “Just breath,” I think to myself as another pain shoots through my stomach. “You can do this.”

  Squatting down, I lean forward and peak out the door. Although the pantry now houses many cans of baby formula it appears to be free of any people. I crawl out the door and stand up. Quiet, I walk down the lanes of shelves to the door leading to the kitchen.

  “Great,” I think to myself, seeing a white jacket and surgical mask hanging from a hook next to the door. “Maybe if someone sees me wearing this it will be enough to trick them long enough for me to get away.”

  Taking the jacket and mask off the hook, I slip it on. I am happy to see that the jacket is large enough to hide the fact that I am pregnant. Before opening the door to go out, I wrap my hair in a bun and put on the mask.

  The kitchen is not as I hoped. It is occupied by a few workers. I gasp.

  “Hey grab me some more formula while you’re in there,” A woman from across the room conveys to me.

  She is unaware as to who I am and I don’t want her to become suspicious.

  “Sure.” I state. “How many?”

  The lady stops what she is doing and looks up at me. Then smiles.

  “As many as you can carry,” She answers. “We have more coming in within the hour and they will be hungry.” She snickers.

  Rushing, I prop the door so that it will stay open and gather as many cans as I can carry and bring them out to her. She is busy chopping up what appears to be human remains. I sicken at the site.

  “Are you okay?” She asks. “You look a little pale.”

  My head begins to sweat as another labor pain overtakes me. I want to sit down, but I do not want anyone to become suspicious. I smile and explain that I am coming down with the flu.

  The woman stops what she is doing and glares at me. She drops her knife.

  “Wait a minute, who are you?” She asks.

  My heart skips a beat as I stand silent in front of her.

  “Take off your mask,” She demands.

  My heart skips another beat as I continue to stare blankly at her.

  “Your that lady that escaped!” She states.

  The other three people look over at us.

  “No, I am not,” I chuckle. “What would make you think that?”

  I want to run, but I know I will not get far before someone grabs me. I have to find a way to convince her that she is wrong and then calmly walk out.

  “Well for one, I think your water just broke.” She says, pointing to the floor.

  My labor intensifies.

  “It is her!” One of the other people screams.

  “I know it is,” The lady in front of me states.

  She reaches for me.

  My first reaction is to defend myself. In a rage I grab the knife from the counter and plunge it into her her neck. She grabs her neck and tries to stop the bleeding but the knife has cut her artery. Blood spews between her fingertips and on to the floor. Her lab jacket is instantly saturated with the red serum. She reaches for me. Her hand smears blood on my jacket. I leap back. Her body quickly weakens. She grabs for the counter. Her hand slips.Taking her last breath she looks up at me as she falls to the floor.

  “No one else has to die,” I scream out. “Just let me go.”

  The others ignore my plea. They grab whatever they can find near them. I take a stance. I will not be killed easily. I do not want to kill anyone but at this moment it is kill or be killed and I will do what it takes to save myself. I grab knife from the floor. By the
time I stand upright all three people are in front of me. The toxin that they have been feeding me for eight months has made me strong, so they will have no chance against my power. They all attack me at once but my fury prevails. I do not kill them just wound them enough that they can not come after me.

  The once clean kitchen is now showered with the blood of the ones I just mangled.

  In hope that if I still possess any poison in my veins I scratch each person before I leave. Maybe if I infect them they will kill or infect the others. The army will have no choice but to kill everyone and everything in it. Their army they have created will die.

  I leave the door open and run down the corridor toward the back entrance. There isn't anyone around so no one follows me. With great effort I crawl through the window and continue down the back alley.

  It is night time now so they have the bright lights on. I will not be able to hide very easily.

  “I have to find a place to have this baby,” I think to myself.

  Pressing my hands against my belly in an effort to keep from crouching over in pain. I run to the edge of the building and peek around. The street is empty. I turn my jacket inside out to hide the blood splatters then calmly walk down the road in hopes that if someone does pass by they will not see the blood.

  From the street it is impossible to tell which building, if any, are occupied.

  The labor pains intensify.

  “The baby is coming now!“ My mind panics.

  After seeing the other babies I fear that if I do not get this baby out of me he or she will tare it's way through my stomach.

  I can no longer wait! I have to find somewhere, anywhere to have this baby!

  Every building I come to I try to open the door, but the doors are locked.

  It is no use. I feel like I have walked a mile and I no closer in finding a place to have this baby. I fall to my knees as a sharp pain overtakes my entire stomach. I have no more time! The baby is coming now!.

  Afraid of having the baby in the street, I crawl my way down a passage looking for a solitude area. I prop against the wall of the building, bend my legs and wrap my arms around them. My labor pains are at a constant now, so I know it will only be a matter of minutes if not seconds. Gritting my teeth I push as hard as I can. The pain is horrific, but I never make a sound.