Taken By Surprise
Page 47
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I manage to have a quick shower and after fighting with myself to open up my closet, I get out some fresh clothes. Everything in there is similar and suitable for exercising in. I leave out most of my new clothes over the desk since I’m not too eager to have to keep opening up the closet and seeing the quilt folded away in there, knowing it holds Drew’s remains. When I finally make it to the lounge area, Will is sitting on the couch looking bored, Charlie is just walking out of the doctor’s room behind me and Rose is arguing with Stan.
“You actually think I’m going to give you my blood? My DNA? Hell, no!” Rose is as angry as I’ve ever seen her. It looks like a good night’s sleep has done her no good.
“Hacker, if I wanted your DNA, then I would just grab a loose strand of hair that I’m sure is on your pillow. If I wanted your blood, I would just need to wait for training to begin. You’re all bound to have scrapes and bruises from that. You don’t really have much choice in this, so I would suggest you cooperate.”
“No.” Rose crosses her arms over her chest. “Also, why the hell do we have listening devices in our rooms?”
Stan glares angrily at her. “Well, since you were all nearly murdered recently, we decided it might be nice to know if you’re in trouble straight away rather than finding your body in the morning,” he snaps at Rose.
“You said we’re safe here.”
Stan takes a deep breath. I can tell he’s close to his breaking point with this argument. “You are safe, this is merely a precaution.”
“I think it’s creepy. I want it out of my room,” she demands.
“And I want the latest design of rocket launcher. We don’t all get what we want, sweetie.”
“Don’t call me sweetie,” Rose yells, making all of us wince.
“Ms. Holloway, I’m ready for you now.” I look behind me and see the same doctor from yesterday, Harold, standing at the doorway, waiting.
I leave Rose and Stan to their fight, hoping the boys won’t let it go too far and step into the doctor’s office. It’s not really an office, though. It’s twice the size of our lounge area and looks like something out of a doctor’s TV show; the ones that show you the emergency department. There are six beds along the wall, medical equipment everywhere and several desks that house microscopes and other things that look complicated and expensive. There is one place that’s hidden by a curtain, but I squash down on my curiosity when Harold asks me to sit down on one of the beds.
He feels my pulse, takes my blood pressure and temperature and then knocks about my knees to see how my reflexes are. When it comes time to take my blood, I have psyched myself up into a panic.
I hate needles. I had needed a blood test just a year ago and Dana held my hand through that. I still need my hand held, I still need Dana.
While I think about how much I miss her, Harold jabs me in the arm without warning and I gasp in pain as he pulls until the vial is filled with blood.
I look away from the needle and Harold and, even though I’m sitting on a bed, I begin to feel dizzy. I see double of Stan standing over by the doorway, watching me carefully. I see both his heads dip and then another sting on my arm. I groan and then my head falls back and hits the pillow. I feel strange and I know, deep down, something isn’t right. Numbness spreads up my arm and slowly my whole body sinks into the feeling. It’s addictive to not feel anything. I let my sadness ebb away and allow myself the relief of feeling numb. Soon I’m not even aware of that.