by Aella Black
The guard at the door, reminding me I was trapped here, made it worse. “What’s happening?” I asked, my voice way too high.
“Just a checkup. I need to ask you some questions.”
Welcome to the club. Like, why the straps? Instead, I asked, “Like what?”
“Have a seat and we’ll get started.”
Grinding my teeth, I sat on the raised platform. I could hardly swallow past the lump in my throat.
Dr. Venn sat in a nearby chair. Clicking around on her computer, she asked, “Do you have any allergies?”
I took a calming breath. That was pretty standard. “No,” I responded.
“Take any medications?”
“No.”
“Any past illnesses or surgeries?”
I began to relax a little. These questions I’d answered any number of times in the past.
“AML,” I said. “Acute myeloid—”
“Leukemia. I know what AML is.” She sounded as if I’d personally offended her.
“What treatments?”
“The usual, I think. Lots of chemo. Some radiation.”
“Anything else?” she asked, almost eagerly.
“They did a bone marrow transplant.”
Her fingers paused. “Stem cells?” she asked.
I nodded. She continued to type. “How long ago was that?”
“I was ten. So, six years ago,” I clarified.
It occurred to me that Dr. Venn hadn’t asked for my birthdate. Had she pulled my medical records from school? If so, she would already know the answers to these questions.
I started to ask when she continued, “Have you noticed any discomfort since the fire?”
I could name a whole list, but none had to do with the fire. “No, not really.”
She continued asking general questions about my health, and I gave her the bare minimum answers. So much had been stripped away here. Namely, my freedom but my privacy too. I didn’t feel I owed them anything more.
Even still, as she typed away on her computer, my nerves began to calm. Maybe this really was just a routine screening. It made sense. I’d just arrived, and they needed to know if I had any health needs or concerns. But what about the tests everyone was so scared of?
Dr. Venn sat back in her chair and looked me straight in the eye. “Did you know of your abilities before the fire?”
“No,” I said quickly, careful to maintain eye contact. Did they think I was lying? “I’m not even sure I have an ability. It was probably just dumb luck.” Lord knows I’m due for some.
“What you experienced, Phoebe, was not luck.” She sounded pretty sure of herself. I wondered why.
I again started to ask when Dr. Venn pulled open a drawer. The needle she extracted halted every thought except one.
No!
Then I realized my mistake. She’d lured me into a false sense of security.
It wouldn’t happen again.
“I’m going to take a blood sample for further study,” she said, arranging supplies that were familiar to me. “Please hold out your arm.”
“Didn’t they already take my blood in the ambulance?”
She looked at me in surprise. “You remember that?”
“Yes. I also remember no one asked my permission to take it,” I said, giving her a look.
Still, giving blood wasn’t so bad. If someone offered a degree in it, I’d have my doctorate by now.
I held out my arm, and she wasted no time. Like I could change my mind.
After securing the sample, Dr. Venn patted my arm. “Next we’re going to test your pain tolerance. I understand you may be uncomfortable at times, but this is necessary.”
“Necessary for what?” I asked.
“To help us understand. To help others.”
Then it occurred to what she’d said. She was going to test my pain tolerance?
Before I could argue, Dr. Venn nodded at the guard. He straightened and approached me, hand on his taser.
“I’ll need you to lie on your back, Phoebe.”
I shook my head, my stomach again doing flip-flops. “No. I don’t want to test my pain tolerance. I can assure you it’s the same as anyone else’s.”
“I’m sure it is, dear. But we need solid data. Lie down, please.”
The guard pulled out his taser.
My heart thundered in my ears as I did what she said. Dr. Venn strapped me down, tightening each strap more than was necessary.
To say I was freaking out would be an understatement. I wanted to resist. To do something other than lie here and let her tie me down. What kind of doctor did this? Not one who’d taken the Hippocratic Oath, that’s for sure.
With every second that passed, I hated her more and more. The hatred was so strong, in fact, I found myself wishing my superpower could cause harm rather than reverse it. I knew I should feel guilty for thinking that, but I was too angry and scared to care.
“Comfortable?” she asked.
Was she kidding?
“No,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Let me know if there’s anything I need to adjust,” she said.
“Loosening the straps would be a start.”
She looked at me like I was a petulant child. “I’m afraid they need to be a little snug for our protection and yours.”
Protection. That was always their excuse. Had it ever occurred to them that I could protect myself? Then again, here I was in a fully compromised position, and I couldn’t even manage a decent insult. Apparently, wishing to cause harm and actually doing it were very different.
Dr. Venn began fastening patches to my temples, abdomen, and chest. I tried to steady my breathing—not easy since I was scared senseless. I hadn’t had a panic attack in years, but I knew one was seconds away.
Be brave.
The reminder didn’t help. The magic of those words came from the person who’d always said them to me. And my father clearly wasn’t here.
If he were, he never would have permitted what happened next.
12
“On a scale of one to ten, tell me how badly this hurts?” Then the evil doctor pressed a button on her computer.
My muscles seized up as a flash of pain struck me. I gasped, squeezing my hands into fists. The pain left as quickly as it had come. But innately, I knew the relief was temporary and there was more coming. “Um… six?”
Aiming high now meant less pain later, right?
Dr. Venn looked back at her computer. “Hmm. Based on your vitals, you should be somewhere between a three and a four.” Why did she even ask then? “It can be tricky to rate these things accurately. Let’s try something else.”
Beads of sweat had collected along my hairline, making my scalp itchy. I couldn’t do anything about it with my hands tied down—
She pressed another button.
I yelped in surprise as a fresh wave of pain rippled through me, setting my insides on fire. “Stop!” I screamed. “It hurts, it hurts!”
Dr. Venn typed in a note on her computer. I wanted to throw it across the room. “What would you say that was?” she asked.
“A ten,” I snapped.
That got her attention. She looked at me, scowling. “Let me make something clear. As soon as you came to Leavenworth, you lost all rights and privileges. You are a supernatural, which is not categorized as a human being. Now, let us continue.”
Not a human being? What on earth was she talking about? It wasn’t like I was from another planet. I was human. And I certainly felt pain like a human. In fact, I’d felt enough pain in the past sixteen years to last several human lifetimes.
Before I could form a response—because what did you say when someone accused you of being an alien?—Dr. Venn pushed another button. This one was less painful, but I still couldn’t help a small whimper.
“How was that?” she asked.
I didn’t answer her.
“Hmm. Not enough, it seems.” She pressed another key.
Agony unlike anything I’d
ever experienced pulsed through me. It felt like my flesh was burning off my bones, which in turn were being splintered by a wood chipper. The room blurred in and out of focus as I fought to stay conscious. Who knew what she might do to me if I were asleep?
It wasn’t until after the red-hot fire burned out that I realized I’d been screaming. I tried to relax my hands, which had fisted so tightly I’d drawn blood. “Please,” I whispered, my back sticky with sweat. “Please stop.”
“That registered as an eight.” Only an eight? “You handled it quite well. Just a few more tests, and you’ll be free to go,” she said. My answering groan sounded like a dying animal.
Dr. Venn punched yet another button. Pain coursed through me, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. I endured five more rounds, each varying in intensity.
Throughout it all, I stared daggers at the doctor, wishing I could hook her up to the machine. I’d have a field day with those buttons.
Once, I thought I saw a spark of joy in her eyes. What kind of sick, twisted person enjoyed causing someone else’s pain? Then I recalled my previous thought, wondering what kind of person that made me.
Fortunately, I didn’t have much time to consider it. The final one felt as if I’d been smashed by a board covered in nails. The pain punctured every inch of my body. There was no escaping it.
Tears streamed down my face, and a wretched-sounding sob wrenched from my throat.
Dr. Venn typed up the last of her notes, wholly unmoved. She acted as she believed… as if I truly weren’t human.
“Eight and a half,” she stated. I didn’t have the energy to argue with her. “I think we’ll end there for today. And good news, you may be able to come back from the dead, but it looks like your pain levels are normal.”
I had never wanted to hurt anyone more in my life.
She unstrapped me, and I immediately rolled over and vomited on the floor. Too bad I hadn’t rolled in her direction.
The guard made a small sound of disgust. I wanted to hurt him too, because innocent bystander he was not.
“You are free to go, Phoebe,” Dr. Venn said. “Jameson will escort you back to your cell. Please let me know if you experience any discomfort in the next few days.”
Not if I were dying a slow, painful death, and she alone had the ability to put me out of my misery.
The guard gripped my arm and pulled me off the bed. I stumbled, my knees shaky, the world spinning. I was going to pass out. No way would I make it to my cell without fainting.
Amazingly enough, a few steps out the door and all dizziness went away. A few more steps and my nausea subsided. I still felt weak and trembled from the exertion of dealing with all that pain, but I felt significantly more human. Although according to the doctor, I wasn’t one, I thought bitterly.
The guard dragged me down the stairs and through the hallway toward my cell. I noticed most of the ones we passed were empty. Were the other kids still being tested? I prayed none of them experienced what I just did.
Even Wolf. Compared to the diabolical doctor, he seemed like a tame little pup.
As we passed Birdie’s cell, I heard a whimper, followed by the distinct sound of sniffling. I peeked inside and found the little girl curled up on the floor in the fetal position. What had they done to her?
Digging my feet in, I forced the guard to stop. “Birdie? Are you okay?”
She curled in on herself and cried harder.
“Let’s go,” the guard grunted, yanking at my arm. I stiffened. He was going to have to pick me up to move me.
“Come here,” I said gently, reaching my hand through the bars.
Birdie lifted her head, revealing puffy, red eyes, and then she scooted closer to me. When she took my hand, hers trembled in mine.
Anger flared through me. “What happened?”
“They… they made me kill it,” she choked out, fresh tears streaming down her face.
“Kill what?”
“The bird!” she wailed. “They made me kill the bird.” She ducked her head down, sobbing, and my heart shattered into a million pieces.
I gripped her hand and squeezed. It was all I could do. I didn’t have any words of comfort to share with her. I felt as broken as she looked.
“I don’t have all day.” The impatient guard yanked my other arm, and I reluctantly released Birdie.
My cell was empty when I arrived. Tears blurred my vision, and I sank to my knees on the cold, hard floor.
What were they doing to Rocky? And my new friends… what was being done to them in the name of protection?
I’d never felt so violated in my life. That was saying something, since battling leukemia left a person exposed in every way.
Suddenly, I saw yesterday’s events in a whole new light. Understanding flooded every pore of my being. It wasn’t any wonder why that kid was willing to risk the guards’ wrath to try to break out of here. No one could endure this for an extended period of time.
How long before one of us became the next Hot Rod?
13
Rocky arrived half an hour later, escorted by a guard. She didn’t glance my way as she retreated to her bed and pulled out her magazine. I watched as she slowly flipped through the pages, then tore one out and shredded it to pieces. The colored fragments of paper fell to the floor, scattering in no particular pattern. She didn’t give them a second glance either.
Then she started on another. In the middle of the confetti-making, something occurred to me. “Where did you get that magazine?” I asked.
Her methodical tearing continued. “The library.”
I’d have slapped my forehead if it didn’t hurt so badly. I’d forgotten all about the books I saw in The Quad yesterday.
Wait, was that only yesterday? It felt like a year had passed.
Still, something small inside me leapt. “There’s a library here?”
“Yup. But don’t hold your breath. It’s not very big, and mostly it’s children and young adult fiction.” She made a gagging sound to further express her displeasure.
I wondered what noise she would make if I told her those were my favorites. All the time I was sick as a kid and with all the school I missed, reading was my refuge. Fantasy and science fiction, in particular, provided an escape I desperately needed. I needed that same escape now.
“Could you show me where it is?”
“No.” Rocky looked at me like I’d asked her for a tour of space. I kept looking right back at her. “Fine, it’s in the rec area through two wooden doors.”
It wasn’t a game changer or anything, but it was something. And a little something was exactly what my heart craved at the moment.
“Thank you,” I said. I hoped she knew how much I meant it.
Dinner was mostly silent. We were all famished, for one. Emotionally exhausted, for another. I also felt physically wiped out, but my need to comfort Birdie kept me going.
Cathy and I attempted this as best we could, but Birdie was still torn up from her testing session. Tex, Woody, and Cal ate quietly, staring up at the TV. It was a local news station reporting that new residents were being banned because the city couldn’t sustain any more people. They talked about building a wall as a long-term solution to the problem.
Good luck with that.
Then I thought of the irony. Kansas City might build a wall to keep people out, and here I was trapped behind a wall to keep me in. I wasn’t particularly fond of either one. But considering my current predicament, I focused exclusively on the walls that confined me.
And my friends.
Looking around the table, submission to their fates was as plain as day. A quick glance around the cafeteria indicated it was the same throughout the room.
I spotted Trey, a teen with some type of super-glue superpower, and Jack, a kid who could create wind by blowing out of his nose. Too bad it wasn’t strong enough to blow the walls off this place.
Peyton could produce flowers but not a smile, and I was told Christian, who had
the ability to enlarge parts of his body, never used his powers unless forced because it was too painful
Names I didn’t even know belonged to faces filled with devastation or exhaustion. Often both.
Even the Wolf Pack was unusually subdued, no doubt weary from whatever horrors the SCC had concocted in the name of science. Resignation choked the room, suffocating us all slowly.
Which was why I decided what I did.
We couldn’t just sit here and let these people use and abuse us while claiming to protect us. We had to do something.
Kids like Birdie—kids like all of us—didn’t deserve the pain they put us through. We deserved a life free from constant fear and sadness. Free from being imprisoned for committing no crime whatsoever.
And this wasn’t just about freedom. This was about what was right. They might not view us as humans, but that didn’t mean we weren’t. We were born, we had families and friends, and we felt joy and pain and sorrow just like everyone else in the history of mankind.
We needed to get out of here.
At light’s out, I felt determination rather than the self-pity that had swamped my every thought the night before. They weren’t following the rules of law, so why should their rules apply to us? Even if only a handful escaped, those who did could run to the authorities and alert them to what went on here. Then the rest could go free.
There was only one catch to that. It was highly possible the SCC was funded—and maybe even run—by the government. With all the turmoil in our country and a new crisis cropping up every day, I could see how a clandestine operation of this sort might go unnoticed by the public at large.
Could someone from the press help? Surely if enough people knew what was going on, they would shut it down. American citizens wouldn’t stand by and let children be unfairly incarcerated… would they?
The next morning, I got up and ran my laps, feeling more energized despite the fact that I had no plan of any kind. I thought as I ran and then kept thinking during my shower and all while I ate breakfast. Listening to Rocky flip through her magazine as we waited for rec period gave me my first breakthrough.
I made a beeline for the wooden doors to the library as soon as I arrived at The Quad. Pushing them open, I peered inside. She’d been right. The room wasn’t big, but it was crammed with ceiling-high bookshelves. I let the doors close behind me, excitement building. Then a sound to my immediate right caused me to just about jump out of my skin.