The ARC 03: Fractured

by Alexandra Moody

  ‘So?’ Will asks.

  ‘No luck,’ I say, as I make myself comfortable on the floor. ‘Do you know what Kelsey’s diagnosis is?’

  ‘Same as everyone else, her cells are mutating too fast.’

  I pause. ‘But they told me not everyone in here had the same diagnosis.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s what they told you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, ask anyone in here, they’ll all tell you they have the same thing. Maybe you misheard them?’

  I frown. ‘Maybe,’ I say, but I’m not convinced.

  When the movie finishes the snake-like orderly from earlier comes back with a nurse in tow. The man hurriedly moves towards the screen, taking care not to look anywhere but directly at it. The other woman walks in our direction.

  ‘What’s she here for?’ I whisper to Will.

  ‘No idea, they’ve already taken all the kids who are having tests today. Hopefully she’s here to tell us about Kelsey?’

  I frown and face the woman again. Her eyes meet mine, and something about the way she looks at me causes my blood to run cold. ‘They don’t take kids for tests later in the day?’ I ask.

  ‘Never,’ he replies. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I think she’s here for me.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  The nurse moves through the room with purpose and her gaze doesn’t shift from mine as she continues down past the other beds heading directly for us; the cold certainty I felt moments ago getting stronger with each step she takes. There is something in the way the woman looks at me that makes my heart beat a little quicker.

  ‘She can’t be here for you,’ Will says, glancing at the nurse before settling his gaze back on me. There’s complete certainty in his voice and he doesn’t for a second entertain the possibility. Everything in this place runs to a strict schedule and in Will’s mind the tests are always finished by this time in the day. Even just a couple of nights in here have shown me that.

  Her feet stop directly in front of us. ‘Elle, it’s time for your treatment. Would you like me to bring a chair for you?’

  ‘No,’ I respond, standing. ‘I’m okay.’

  Will tugs on the leg of my pants as I stand to follow the woman. ‘This isn’t normal,’ he whispers. It’s not surprising Will would be freaked by a change to the schedule, especially after what happened to Kelsey today.

  I raise my hands and shrug. ‘It will be fine,’ I murmur back. I don’t feel particularly comfortable with the situation, but even if it wasn’t fine, there’s nothing I can do and worrying Will won’t help.

  The nurse takes me out of the ward and down through several corridors before she stops by one of the rooms. She bumps her cuff against the scanner by the door and reaches for the handle. She is just about to turn it when I hear footsteps down the far end of the corridor.

  A man being pushed in a wheelchair appears. At least, I think it’s a man. I push down a gasp as I get a better look at him. The skin all over his body is raised and calloused, with large bleeding scabs peeling off of him. The decaying flesh is sickly, it’s almost the colour of stone, and you can barely see his eyes beneath his large and mottled forehead that hangs low over them.

  I take an unconscious step towards him to get a closer look, but the nurse grabs my arm and quickly ushers me into the room, closing the door firmly shut behind us.

  ‘Who was that?’ I ask her.

  She avoids my gaze. ‘You shouldn’t have seen him,’ she mutters.

  ‘Is he being treated here?’ I continue. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘Not all talents are things to be envied,’ she says, almost more to herself than in answer to my question. She turns and moves away from the door. ‘Just this way.’ She waves for me to follow her.

  The room is almost identical to the one I’d been in last night. Metal counters line the walls, covered in an array of different machines. Down the centre of the room is a long table, its surface empty of any clutter.

  ‘Am I having more blood tests?’ I ask the woman.

  ‘Not today.’ I want to be relieved, but the tone of her voice stirs the unease in my gut. Am I about to receive something worse?

  She leads me past the benches and through a door at the other end of the room. She clicks the door shut behind me and I peer around the small space we’ve entered. It’s darker in here, with less equipment than the room we just walked through and a reclining chair in the centre. The chair is similar to one you’d sit in when getting your teeth checked, which causes my curiosity to spike.

  ‘Can you take a seat for me?’ the nurse asks.

  I move over to the chair, but stop before getting on, lightly running my fingers over the arm rests.

  ‘Is this a part of my treatment?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes.’

  The door opens behind the woman and a man in a recruiter’s uniform enters. He has an imposing figure with shoulders that take up most of the doorframe. His lips form a straight line and the way his eyes fall on me causes me to unconsciously take a step closer to the chair.

  I swallow and look back to the nurse as the man shuts the door behind him. ‘What am I having done today?’ I ask her.

  ‘The doctor will explain when he arrives. Please take a seat.’

  I hesitate, the treatment can’t be good if they’ve sent muscle in here to watch, but one look from the man in black and I take my seat on the chair, clasping the armrests tightly as I wait.

  I try to catch the nurse’s eye as she goes about preparing the room, in an attempt to gauge any idea of what’s to come, but she avoids looking at me to the point where I feel certain it’s on purpose.

  When the door opens again a tall man in a white lab coat enters the room. His shoulders are hunched and his focus is entirely on the tablet he holds, so much so he nearly falls over his feet while trying to close the door behind him.

  Glancing up at the nurse he gives a curt nod, before focusing back on the tablet. The nurse approaches a screen that is attached to the chair and moments later the seat begins to recline. My body stiffens and I clasp the arms of the chair tightly.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I ask her.

  Again, my question is met with silence and her eyes refuse to meet mine. The unease I’ve been feeling since entering the room increases and, though I try to stay calm, my gut warns me something with this situation is wrong.

  The doctor approaches the bench and I roll my head to look at him, trying my best to ignore the commanding figure of the recruiter who scowls at me from behind. ‘What am I having done today?’ I try to sound firm and confident, but my voice squeaks as the words come out.

  I hear the distinct ripping of Velcro and when I look down I find the nurse and recruiter placing restraints over each of my wrists. I immediately sit up.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I attempt to pull my hands back, but the restraints are tightened before I get a chance. I push my wrists against the straps trying to get out from under them, the movement only becoming more agitated as I fail to get my hands loose.

  ‘Are these necessary?’ I ask.

  The woman takes a quick step back from the chair. ‘You need to calm down Elle,’ she says.

  Already my wrists feel chafed from rubbing against the material, but this doesn’t stop my attempts to get free. ‘I’ll calm down when I’m not being tied down. Take them off!’

  ‘Doctor?’ the nurse asks.

  A set of wide hands grab my shoulders, wrenching me back to lie in the chair. I catch sight of the recruiter’s scowl as he pushes me down, but it doesn’t still me. If anything, it makes me fight harder.

  ‘Get your hands off me!’ I yell, fighting to sit up again. The man’s hands are steadfast though and don’t budge even slightly, despite the way I try to throw myself forward as I attempt to get free.

  The nurse quickly tightens a restraint over my ankles, legs and chest, effectively stopping my struggles. The thick bands dig uncomfortably into my skin and there is no room for
movement beneath them.

  She moves closer to my head, and there’s another sound of ripping Velcro before she places one last restraint over my forehead, stripping all movement from me completely.

  My breathing becomes erratic as I realise my fight against the thick fastenings tightened across my body is completely useless. There’s no escaping. I’m trapped.

  I can feel a tear running down my cheek and another one joins it as I realise I’m unable to even wipe it away. ‘What are you doing to me?’

  ‘Calm down Elle,’ the doctor says. ‘We’re going to do an eye examination. The restraints are merely to make sure you don’t move during the procedure. It won’t hurt a bit.’

  It’s a lie of course. Adults only ever say it won’t hurt when it most definitely will. Why else would I need to be strapped down to the table with a recruiter here to make sure I comply?

  A bright light is switched on overhead, momentarily blinding me. The doctor leans over, tilting the light so it is no longer haloed behind his head and instead focuses in on me from an angle.

  He pulls back and when he returns he forces my eyelids open to squeeze drops of liquid into my eyes.

  ‘Can you close your eyes for me Elle?’

  I do as he says, feeling even more vulnerable now my eyes are shut. My hands grip the arms of the chair tightly, my nails digging into the hard leather, and I nervously chew on the inside of my lip.

  ‘Now, open them.’

  I slowly blink my eyes open. The doctor’s face is mere inches from mine and I can feel his rancid breath against my cheek.

  ‘Look to the left,’ he says. ‘And now the right.’

  He readjusts the light again. ‘That’s great Elle. Now I can begin.’ Though he sounds calm and professional, the way he says, ‘begin,’ causes me to shudder.

  A metal device appears in his hand and I jerk back against the chair, the restraints biting keenly into my skin. He holds the device calmly in one hand and as he moves it closer the light dances along its cool metal tongs. I eye the two large scoop like ends with total fear. It looks like some sort of clamp and I have a sickening certainty of what he’s about to cinch open with it. My heart races and I can feel adrenaline rushing through my system in response.

  ‘What are you doing with that?’ My lips quiver and my breath comes faster.

  ‘I will just put this in your eyes to keep them open. The area is anesthetised so you won’t feel a thing.’

  ‘What?’ I jerk back against the chair again, fighting against the restraints. ‘I don’t want this. Please don’t do this.’

  ‘Elle you need to calm down. If you don’t stay perfectly still this will hurt.’

  I want to calm at his words, but they only make me more agitated.

  ‘Please don’t do this!’

  The man doesn’t listen though and I watch in terror, unable to do anything to stop him, as he lowers the clamps down and peels back my upper and lower eyelid with the device on one eye, then the other.

  I’m surprised not to feel pain, only an uncomfortable pressure, but this hardly helps my concerns when he lowers a metallic ring down onto my eyes that immobilises them completely.

  ‘Please,’ I cry out, desperately hoping he will change his mind, but he ducks away out of sight. I am left with only the bright light above me for company, and even that has become blurry.

  When the doctor’s face returns, a long needle also comes into view with a bright purple serum inside the tube.

  ‘No,’ I whimper, already coming to the undeniable conclusion he plans to put that thing in my eye. ‘Surely there’s another way.’

  ‘Now you’ll probably feel a little pinch.’ He lowers the needle closer and closer towards my eye. I want to fight against my restraints, to pull away in terror, but I’m completely frozen as he carefully places the needle against my right eye and slowly pushes into it.

  I groan in discomfort at what’s being done. At first, I barely feel the needle and it is merely uncomfortable. But then comes a sharp, stinging pain as he slowly injects the serum.

  I forget to breathe as the sting continues, gritting my teeth as I wait for the pain to subside. But there is no end to it and when it all becomes too much I scream out in agony.

  The injection takes minutes, though it feels like an eternity. I desperately want to pass out and escape from the searing pain, but there is no getting away from it.

  When he finally removes the needle, I am breathless and sagging into the chair.

  ‘Please don’t do that again,’ I whisper.

  He disappears from view and reappears with another needle in hand. I make a tiny groaning noise, dreading what I know will come next.

  ‘Please—’ my begging is cut off as another scream rips from my throat.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘She shouldn’t still be asleep. Should she?’ a woman whispers. Her voice is muffled like she’s speaking from another room, but I hear her words surprisingly clear.

  I groan softly and open my eyes but immediately wish I hadn’t. Pain shoots through them as they open and they feel like they’re on fire. The room is too bright and my vision is completely blurred. I struggle to even see the large lamp that hangs above my head. The edges of it are indistinct and the light it emanates smudges into the space around it.

  I lift my hand above my head to look at it, before dropping it quickly away. I can barely make out my fingers.

  What did they do to me?

  I close my eyes and take a slow, uneven breath. Why can I barely see the shape of my hand, let alone any detail? Why do my eyes feel like they’re about to burst into flame?

  I run my hands along the armrests, the warm leather feeling reassuring against my skin until my fingers skim across the thick Velcro straps that were used to tie me down. My fingers freeze before drawing away. At least the restraints have been removed.

  ‘She should be awake at any time now,’ a man replies. The door dampens the sound, but I still manage to catch his words, which almost seem to faintly echo off the hard surfaces in the room next door.

  ‘And the procedure?’

  ‘I believe it was a success, but I won’t be able to test the results for a few days.’

  ‘Do we need to turn up the inhibitor sensors?’ the woman asks.

  ‘No, she’s doped up on sedatives right now and should be fine until she reaches the ones in the children’s ward.'

  There are footsteps and then the squeak of a doorhandle turning.

  ‘Doctor?’ the woman asks, as the movement of the handle pauses. ‘Do you think she will survive this?’

  My body stills and my breathing stops as I lean closer to the door to hear his response.

  ‘She’s lasted six weeks of intense daily experiments, I don’t see why not.’

  I feel the colour drain from my face and the blood that runs through my veins turns cold. Six weeks of experiments? What is he talking about? Surely they can’t mean me.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake,’ the doctor says, as he pushes the door open. ‘How do you feel?’

  I shrink back, tumbling off the chair and moving to press myself against the far wall. My heart thunders in my chest, my terror made all the worse by my inability to see clearly.

  ‘Why can’t I see anything?’ I ask.

  ‘That can be a side effect of the procedure. You should be back to normal soon. Why don’t you come and sit back in the chair?’

  I shake my head vehemently and continue to claw my way along the wall, as I follow his slow, blurry movement towards me. He continues to draw closer and I am just able to make out his hands, which he raises to hold before him as though he were cautiously approaching a wild beast.

  ‘Elle, will you please take a seat? I don’t want you hurting yourself.’

  I stumble into a small metal table causing the items on the tray on top to clatter. My mind is overwhelmed by what I overheard and though the clash of metal objects is as loud as a gong going off in my ear, I barely register the noise. Have
I really been here so long? Why can’t I remember anything? What have they been doing to me?

  I swallow and attempt to take a steadying breath. I need to stay calm and give myself time to process what I’ve heard. It’s hard to ignore the effect his words have had on me though. It’s like they’ve resonated with a part of me deep down, and I know I can’t trust these people.

  ‘Would you fetch another sedative?’ the doctor murmurs, under his breath to the nurse.

  ‘Please don’t,’ I whimper. ‘I just want to return to the ward.’

  The doctor clears his throat and pauses before he answers. ‘If you take a seat we won’t need to administer a sedative.’ There’s a hint of surprise in his voice, as though he hadn’t expected me to hear his whispers to the nurse. They’d been spoken so clearly though, I’m surprised he thought he was being discreet.

  ‘Not in that chair,’ I say, nodding my head in the direction of the chair I’d been tied to. I refuse to go anywhere near that thing again.

  ‘No. We can bring a wheelchair in. Would that be okay?’ He talks slowly and his words make me feel like I’m a small child, but I feel so vulnerable right now that his tone is welcome.

  I nod and, as I do, the room flickers into focus. I see the doctor clearly, though the room around him stays blurred. Certain details seem to draw my attention and I find myself captivated by the clarity with which I see them. His worried eyes are deep blue and have touches of green flickered throughout them. His nose is dotted with large pores and there are a few tiny droplets of sweat above his upper lip.

  My vision slips out of focus again as quickly as it came in and I stagger back against the wall.

  I hear the doctor rush forward several steps. ‘Please, take my arm,’ he urges, holding it out to me.

  I reach out and grasp onto his outstretched arm, using it to guide me to the wheelchair waiting by the door.

  ‘Will you take me to the ward now?’ I ask, my voice with a pleading edge to it.

  ‘Yes, the nurse will take you in just one moment.’

  He helps lower me to the chair and as he moves to take a step back I reach out and grab his arm, causing him to pause. ‘Why?’ I whisper to him.