Pulse
Page 13
Rowan held her arms straight at her sides, even though she wanted desperately to curl up and hug them around her body. She couldn’t let herself be scared of him any longer. He had no power except what she gave him.
Straightening, she pushed her chin out and cleared her throat, trying to find her voice. “We want to help you be healthy again. This virus has given you a destructive and dangerous addiction. We can eradicate the virus and in turn, eradicate the addiction, and no one else has to get hurt. I thought you would be happy, to get help, to get out of here and live a normal life?”
“Why would I want to be human? To have a normal life? Why would I want to be a disgusting, feeble, selfish creature, spending my time clinging to life and battling my fragility just to die alone, scared, and pathetic? I have not been human for a very long time. I am a God compared to you. I am practically immortal.”
He spit his venomous words like a snake, and its toxicity spread through Rowan in waves of goosebumps. Paralyzed by the neurotoxin of his words, she could do nothing but stand and stare in awe of his furor. It was ironic though: the behavior that managed to scare her again was actually his most human.
She watched him struggle to pull back his emotions. Then, as if a momentarily comforting thought crossed his mind, the corner of his mouth twisted up before speaking again.
“No, I’m not the sick one. Mortality is the disease, and I’m the cure.”
If Rowan felt anything close to a human connection with him before, it was gone now. It felt like the first day in that room again, looking at a monster. His biology said he was human, but all she saw was the darkness in his eyes, black holes threatening to steal her soul if she searched too hard for something in them.
Despite herself, she still stared, letting the silence between them stew until she felt like his anger dissipated enough to not get her head bit off for speaking. Even with the time she had to collect herself, her voice came out shaking.
“It’s not worth killing people. For an illness, an addiction.”
“Addiction?” He laughed, and it sounded cold and distant. “I think you misunderstand what the hunger is like. The people I’ve killed were not victims of my starvation or uncontrolled desire. I think I’ve proven very well that I can control my hunger, considering you’re still alive. No, I kill people because I can, and because I like it. Humans are disgusting and deserve to die, and if I ever get out of this room, I will kill every last human that had anything to do with me being stuck here.”
During his speech, Rowan unknowingly withdrew, only realizing when her back hit the wall. Flashing a toothy grin, the monster stalked a few steps forward to follow her retreat. The blacks of his eyes were wide and wild, but something told her that his look had nothing to do with her blood or his hunger. She saw him as a boy with an animal behind his eyes, but perhaps he had always been just an animal.
“Are you disappointed? Did you think I was a lost soul, had a devil on my shoulder? A helpless boy needing to be saved? A victim? I’m the monster, Rowan. This virus, it’s not what makes me monstrous. I choose to be.”
Something didn’t feel right, though. Watching him more closely with her wide, horrified eyes as he delivered his lines, a perfectly placed smirk on his lips to confirm his insanity, Rowan felt like it was all just another game again. Through his brief anger, she got a glimpse of the real him, seeing the chips and cracks beneath his level, calculated veneer. Now that he was back to his classic scare tactics, something felt disingenuous about them.
Rowan used to think a game of fear was all he wanted from her, but now all she saw was a defense mechanism, to keep her eyes away from what he didn’t want her to see: a wounded animal.
“I can understand why you would want to kill us. Why you’d want to kill me. We’ve locked you up in here. To you we’re just, blank faces behind mirrored glass, using you for our own benefits.” Rowan tried not to let his narrowing eyes silence her already timid voice. She needed to understand, and maybe, with his anger bubbling at the surface, he would tell her something. “All the others you’ve killed, though. All the innocent lives you’ve taken—”
He interrupted with a bitter laugh. “Innocent? No one is innocent.”
A fire flickered in his bottomless gaze, showing she had hit far too close to a nerve. Rowan remembered their secret discussion the night before, of darkness, selfishness, trust, and other scary thoughts.
Humans are the worst kind of monster.
She let her mouth fall open slightly, the pieces coming together into a fragmented ghost of an understanding. Scared of his reaction, but also unable to keep the question to herself, she asked in barely a whisper, “What happened to you?”
The pupils of his black-hole eyes contracted, and she saw his lips part as a breath escaped, like her question winded him. As quickly as he reacted though, his defense was back up, the side of his mouth pulling into a sly grin.
“Do you really want to know?” His voice teased, like in his position of knowledge he knew she wouldn’t. He stepped towards her again, so close his bare feet almost met hers now, forcing Rowan to press further back into the wall he trapped her against. He leaned towards her to make the discomfort worse, so close she could smell that familiar sharp scent on him, making her stomach turn. Lowering his voice like she had, he offered a warm breath to her ear, another secret just for her. “Take off that cuff, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Rowan slid to the side, away from his whispers, escaping her spot between him and the wall. Brushing off the panic, she cleared her voice and stood tall in her new spot. “Why should I?” Once again, when she spoke, she couldn’t hide how his behavior shook her.
His smirk shrank a fraction. “How am I supposed to trust you when you don’t trust me?”
Rowan shook her head. “Because I haven’t killed anyone.”
“I don’t know that.” He countered, chuckling when Rowan shot him an angry glare.
“Why can’t you just answer my questions? Why does it have to be a game to you? I’ve compromised this whole time. Too much so. I think it’s the least you can do to be civil, answer my questions, and not mess with me.” She wasn't sure where her confidence came from, but at that moment, it was greatly appreciated.
He laughed again, the sound knocking her down a notch. "Where's the fun?"
Rowan held back an annoyed huff, frustrated with his defiance, but trying to not let it get the best of her. Instead, she took a moment to gather her thoughts, glancing down at the cuff on her wrist. She had taken it off once before, and left the room unscathed. Actually, when she thought about it, he had done more to prove his trustworthiness than she had.
Why would he want to share anything with her? Why should he, even? From his point of view, she was just going to use it to prosper herself anyway. Was it so unreasonable for him to be asking for a level playing ground? Asking for her to do something to show him she was not just interested for her own selfish reasons?
Had that been why he offered her the secret of his blood before anyone else? A test, to see what she would do? A test, to see if she was on his side like she tried to seem?
If she wanted him to respond to her, she needed to treat him like the wounded animal he was. She had to make herself vulnerable, reach out, offer her hand but let him come to her. If she forced it, if she moved too fast or cornered him, he would lash out and bite. He’d shown that already.
“You’ll answer my questions, then? That’s the deal.”
Rowan always got the farthest with him when she did things his way, after all. If he wanted to play games, she’d come along for the ride.
His expression was surprised at first, like he hadn’t honestly expected her to agree. Quickly enough, another toothy grin spread wide across his face, too satisfied. “Of course, doctor.”
Rowan gave one, short nod, trying to be casual as she turned to sit again, but feeling the anxiety weighing down her muscles. It made it hard to breathe, like a heavy force pushing on her chest so sh
e could only take short, shallow breaths. After a lingering silence between them, the subject followed her lead and sat, long and lazy just like before. She could see him eyeing the cuff around her wrist, locked on and waiting.
She glanced briefly towards the mirrored glass, surprised that no one objected yet to her rash decision. Rowan thought that Dr. Miller would have tried to stop her, because obviously, what she was planning on doing was simply foolish. There was silence on the telecom though, and that fact alone made her even more determined. Whatever they thought would happen to her, she would prove them wrong. She’d get through to him.
Just like last time, Rowan let out a long, slow breath to calm herself, then pressed her finger to the scanner on the cuff. After the chime, it released and fell to the floor.
Surely she had lost her mind, to let herself be so vulnerable while sitting across from a killer. Surely there was another way to get what she wanted from him, but maybe it wasn’t about questions or answers anymore.
Maybe it was just an excuse.
Taking off her last bit of protection had been shamefully euphoric, empowering, in the way that dangerous things often can be. A reminder of her mortality. The silence in the room was near deafening, making the hard pound of her heart even louder, beating out the rhythm of her fear and adrenaline, every pulse another successful, satisfying second without putting the cuff back on.
She stared at the subject, putting her trust in him and daring him to break it. He got his game, and now she waited for him to make his move.
It happened too fast. She watched him blink, slow and easy like a comfortable cat, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth like he was unwilling to admit how easily she just won him over. Before that expression could completely develop onto his face though, he seized in pain, curling up and falling out of his chair as he began to moan and convulse against the violent shock emitting from the cuff on his leg.
Rowan stood immediately, horror striking her face as he screamed through his clenched teeth. Her voice failed her when she tried to scream.
The telecom buzzed to life. “Dr. Platts, you are advised to evacuate the containment room immediately.”
Rowan looked at the speaker in the corner emitting Miller’s voice, then at the mirrored glass, and finally down to the boy who was fighting off the immobilizing waves of electricity pulsing through his body.
She didn’t want to leave. She wanted them to stop and wanted to fall down onto her knees and tend to his pain because that’s what he deserved. Not more torture.
She would have to be foolish to stay now, though. Rowan had gotten through to him, but Miller took away whatever chance at trust she obtained. When the subject got control of his body again, he definitely wouldn’t be quite so tame. She was not safe in this room with him. Not anymore, and she knew that.
Rowan leaned down quickly to grab her cuff from the floor, then moved to the exit, taking one last look to the boy before leaving. He opened one tightly shut eye to watch her go, fire burning in the deep, blackness of his gaze.
The door closed behind her and locked, and she pressed her forehead to the steel, a hand to her mouth as she stifled the sobs threatening to wrack her body. Sobs of frustration, loss, and guilt of the betrayal she just inadvertently stabbed him with.
On the other side of the door, his painful yells stopped, and there was a few seconds of silence, before the steel she leaned on shook with the force of his body slamming against it. “Who’s the monster now?” He bellowed, untamed and violent like the barks and snarls of an angry wolf.
Only he wasn’t the animal anymore. He was just a wounded, scared boy locked up in a room, and she just run away while he suffered. She was the animal. Just as he said, she and the other doctors…
They were the monsters.
Chapter Fifteen
The day of his electrocution was when everything changed for the worse.
It had been only just over a week since she first saw them bringing the subject into the facility, but meeting him seemed like a lifetime ago. When Miller suggested Rowan take the weekend off to clear her head, it felt like it might as well be a life sentence.
She didn’t want to be away from the project. No, she couldn’t be. The last meeting with the subject left her with a terrible sickness in her gut, especially how she had left. The idea of being cooped up in her house where she could do nothing to participate, to make things right, left her with a dread she couldn’t shake. She wasn't locked up in a stark white room, but she felt equally as helpless to her fate.
For the whole weekend, Rowan struggled to eat, sleeping sporadically while ignoring phone calls from Cameron that she couldn’t bare to answer. When Monday finally came, she arrived at the facility early, ready to make up for the wasted time in any way she could. Unfortunately, the bit of hope Rowan had left that something might be salvageable from the havoc of the previous week was quickly stifled as she met Phelps, who was leaving the facility as she arrived.
“Rowan.” He seemed surprised to see her, but not in a good way, and when she gave him a curious look, he lowered his eyes and sighed. “I was hoping I wouldn’t see you today. Rather, wishing you’d have the good sense not to show.”
She shook her head, baffled. “Why wouldn’t I show? After what happened, I have to try and do… Something. Miller… She completely destroyed any trust I had built with the subject. How are we supposed to move forward without his cooperation?”
Phelps gave a hopeless laugh. “I admire your dedication, Rowan. But… Margot is not going to allow you to see him. They’ve abandoned the observation room, moving onto research now. She has what she wants from the samples you collected. She doesn’t need his cooperation anymore.”
“No, that’s… Impossible.”
Rowan didn’t like what his words were doing with the terrible considerations that had been lingering in her head all weekend. She talked over her own thoughts, not wanting to give them attention, not wanting to doubt anyones’ intent, but the apprehension was already there, festering on her growing hopelessness.
“Miller said we would be working on a cure for the virus, so how are we supposed to give him an anti-viral treatment…”
Phelps reached out a hand, touching her shoulder in comfort when Rowan’s voice cracked in her realization. “Leave with me, Miss Platts. I’ll speak to Margot. Since you helped so much, she’ll let you walk away from this and go back to normal. We can just, go back to our previous study, like nothing happened.”
His touch had been encouraging, but at the addition of his offer, Rowan found herself withdrawing. “You’re… You’re leaving?”
He nodded, a grave expression sweeping him. “I can’t stay. I feel like I know where this is going, and I can’t take part.” He sighed, unsure how to elaborate further. Instead, he added. “I know this is not what you want to hear, and I know my opinion isn’t going to do much, but it would be smart for you to leave, also.”
“I can’t.” Rowan frowned hard with her immediate response, the panic setting in around her lungs, making her breath shallow.
Phelps was already nodding, expecting her reaction. After all, he knew her so well. He knew her career was important. He knew that she would do anything to be successful, just like Miller. He knew she was stubborn and determined and never gave up, even when she probably should. Yet, when she added to her words, they seemed to take him by surprise.
“I can’t just leave him.”
Phelps inhaled, speechless for a moment, before giving her a weak smile. “Well. You’re a brilliant woman, Dr. Platts. You’ll think of something.”
With that, he gave her his hand for a goodbye shake, a careful smile as he dismissed himself, leaving behind his key card in Rowan’s palm.
Rowan wanted to believe Phelps was wrong, assuring herself she could convince Miller to let her see the subject again. She just needed the right leverage. It became clear very quickly she wasn’t getting anywhere near the observation room anytime soon, though.
Rowan noticed immediately the sting of being called Miss again, instead of doctor. “I was trying to gain his trust.”
“We don’t need his trust. He’s a murderer. All we needed was his cooperation, which we received. God, I shouldn’t have even allowed you to go back in there after getting the samples.”
Miller said that as if it had been Rowan’s decision to do so, which left her jaw on the floor for a moment before she managed to pick it up and respond. “You wanted me to go back in there to learn more about his past.”
Miller scoffed, the sound of it closer to a growl. “Unnecessary information. We can learn about the virus’ development during trial studies.”
“Trials, doctor?”
Something about that word did not sit well with Rowan, a hot wave of nerves crawling up her neck.
Almost on a dime Miller’s mood switched, lighting up with wild excitement as she dove into an explanation. “That’s right. We’d have to be crazy not to study this virus further. I’ve made a request for more funding so we can speed up our research and eventually move to human testing. If we can harness this virus’ potential… Well, at the very least we could have a powerful tool for use against disease, and at best...”
The flush that teased around Rowan’s collar drew cold sweat from the back of her neck. “You’re talking about turning people into monsters. We can’t even handle one boy with the virus. How are we supposed to handle multiple test subjects?”
Miller’s gleaming eyes went dull with Rowan’s disapproval. “You sound like Robert, ” she said, rolling her eyes with the intended jab.