Plugged In: A Short Story

Home > Other > Plugged In: A Short Story > Page 2
Plugged In: A Short Story Page 2

by Natasha D Lane


  Oceana slapped her hands against her ears, yet she heard nothing. She tried to scream, but could not find her voice. Suddenly, Martha’s eyes grew wide and she began running toward to Oceana.

  Once again the maid scrambled into colors as she ran and soon she began to fade out of existence along with the rest of the garden. Oceana ran toward her and reached out.

  It was too late. They had faded.

  LENNY GROANED AS HE sat up in his small cot. The nap was needed, though his old bones were in need of a few more. He stretched out his arms, cracked his back and scratched his beard before standing up to go back to work. He slipped on the white factory coat before rinsing his face with water and leaving the break room.

  Lenny took the elevator down to the tenth floor and made a right in the hallway. It was nearly 2AM, so the infants’ brain scans would need to be recorded and sent to the main office.

  Thunder and lightning broke the sky, causing Lenny to stop in his tracks. He peered out of a nearby window. Rain was pouring down and the world was covered in a smoggy darkness aside from the lightning. The old man shook his head and started to hobble toward the Plugs. He passed by the security office and immediately turned around when he saw Ted.

  Lenny burst into the room and glared at the newcomer. “Ted, what are you doing? Why aren’t you on the floor with the Plugs?”

  The young man raised his brow. “I already did the inventory. The second check isn’t due until tomorrow.”

  The old man gnashed his teeth and growled. “You idiot! Didn’t you read your Training Manual? Storms can short circuit the power and Plugs can get out.”

  “But we have the surge protectors—“

  Lenny grabbed Ted by his coat and pulled him from his chair. “You can’t take a chance, you idiot. They have to stay plugged in.”

  THE WORLD WAS FULL of blue that surrounded Oceana. She floated in the substance, her body feeling lighter than ever. She blinked, breathed and blinked again. Her eyes wandered around her surroundings and her chest tightened. She thrashed around the small space encompassing her, when she realized her arms and legs were restrained by wires.

  Oceana pulled at the wires holding her until her hands slipped free and she could press against the glass hovering over her. The glass shimmered green before becoming clear again. There was a light vacuum sound. The screen raised itself before pulling back to the end of the container, so that Oceana was free.

  Once the screen was gone, Oceana shot up and stumbled over the side of her container. She fell out sluggishly and slumped to the ground. It was cold against her skin. Shivers ran through her and she wrapped her arms around herself. Her fingers touched bare skin and for the first time Oceana realized she was naked.

  She sat up, still shivering, and pulled her knees to her chest. She was alone aside from the rows of white pod-shaped containers in the room. Where was this room?

  Oceana jumped at the sound of the pod to her right closing—her pod. The screen of the pod lifted and moved from the bottom of the container to the top where it sealed itself.

  Another shiver ran down Oceana’s spine.

  Is that...Is that where I came from?

  She leaned over the container and looked inside.

  It was empty. She looked around her. There was a pod to her left, as well. Once again, she leaned over and looked inside. A man with pale skin and green hair stared back at her.

  Oceana gasped and pushed back from the container. She shook her head and wiped her hands over her face. A scream caught in her throat when she saw strings of blood on her palm. Frantically, she searched her face for the wound. Her fingers lingered on her right temple that was slightly swollen. When she drew her hand back there were trickles of blood. She repeatedly wiped the spot until the bleeding stopped.

  The man in the pod next to hers’ had not moved. Oceana waited a moment. He was motionless. Finally, she crept to the man’s pod and peered inside again. He was still staring back at her, but he was not seeing her. He was not awake, she realized.

  Oceana roamed over his body. She had never seen a man so tall and with such broad shoulders. Now that she was calm, Oceana could see that his skin was actually a slight blue tint and his eyes were like steel.

  “Hello?” Oceana spoke in a low tone. “Can you hear me?” She lightly knocked on the clear glass door that separated her from the man.

  “Can you hear me?” she asked again. The man did not stir.

  There was a beeping noise. Oceana followed the noise to the end of the pod where a box with wavy lines was displayed. She looked back to the front of the pod, now noticing another larger box...the man was in the box.

  He was walking down a paved street, surrounded by tall buildings. He was dressed in a dark suit and blue tie. Groups of people walked around him, but none of them looked at him.

  Oceana stared at the image in front of her. She stood up and placed both hands on the box. Once again, there was a layer of glass separating her from the man.

  “What is this?”

  “Oceana...Lady Oceana!”

  She paused.

  “Lady Oceana!”

  The girl cast her eyes downward and took a deep breath. With her hands still placed on the box screen, Oceana looked left to the box screen that stood above her own pod.

  Martha ran around the garden maze screaming. Her tidy maid dress was covered in splotches of mud. Her perfect bun had fallen apart and tendrils of orange hung around her shoulders. She looked left and then right, before looking right through the glass.

  Martha’s green eyes looked hauntingly at Oceana, almost as if she could see her.

  “Oceana,” she whispered, “where are you?”

  There was a loud crack of thunder and the box went black.

  “No!” Oceana reached for the box, but froze when she heard footsteps. She looked down at herself, realizing, for the second time, that she was naked. She wrapped her arms around her body and looked for a hiding spot. There was nothing, only pods in the large space.

  The footsteps were getting closer.

  She ran down the rows of pods and when she felt there was enough distance, ducked behind one.

  The footsteps became louder. Oceana closed her eyes and tried to stop the shuddering in her breath.

  Then, there was silence and more silence, until...

  “No!” a man screamed.

  Oceana jumped. She peeked from behind her hiding spot and saw a man standing beside her pod. He was short with a hunched back and slightly bent knees. He pulled at his mess of grey hair as he stared at the empty pod.

  “No! Where did she...number 32...number 32...”

  He released a frustrated scream and quickly hobbled away.

  A few moments later Oceana heard a door open and then close.

  She breathed and peeked around the space. She was alone.

  She walked back to her pod and stared at the black box.

  “Number 32? Am I number 32?”

  But there was no one to answer her.

  Oceana began to pace. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, before coming to a stand-still in front of her pod.

  “I was in the garden, then everything became...fuzzy. I woke up here, in this pod and the garden was in the box...and now that man wants to find me...or he wants to find number 32...so what do I do? What can I do?”

  Escape.

  The man had entered the room from a door down the hall. Maybe there was another door she could use to leave.

  Oceana walked in the opposite direction of the man. She continued walking until she came to a small office with an opened door. She waited and listened. No noise was coming from the room.

  Oceana stepped inside the small office. There was a desk covered in papers, a chair, another box with a screen of glass and a coat rack that held a single faded brown jacket. She immediately grabbed the jacket and put it on, tying the garment around her. She closed the door and sat down in the chair.

  Finally, having a few moments of peace
, Oceana laid her head on the metal desk. The cool calmed her rushing heart; however the messy desk annoyed her. She sat up and began to straighten out the papers. Every sheet was covered in long paragraphs of dark ink. A few papers had strings of side notes written across them with helix shaped drawings.

  Oceana’s elbow brushed against the desk box. She jerked in the chair as the box lit up and her stomach dropped when she saw an image of herself staring back at her. Beside that image was “Number 32.”

  The word “Transcendence” was plastered across the top of the box’s bright screen.

  Oceana grazed her fingers over her image when the screen suddenly changed. Paragraphs and paragraphs of small text appeared beside her picture.

  She leaned into the box, carefully scanning the thick chunks of writing.

  “Number 32, Virtual Name: Oceana. Donors: Number 44 and Number 53...donors...mixed breed...desired height, desired weight...showing expected results, but still inconclusive...potential mate: Number 34...may transcend...”

  May transcend?

  Oceana’s body was shaking and she found herself feeling like she was in one of those horror stories she had read as a child. Her mind drifted back to the garden and the fat cat she had held in her arms. The cat?

  It was always there...and then they would scream, and then I would run...every time the same thing would happen...I-

  Her hands were fully shaking now and she could hardly keep them on the desk.

  “None of it was real,” she whispered. “None of it was real.” She placed her hands on her head as if they could steady her thoughts.

  Oceana thought back to her home or what she thought was her home, at least. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember the faces of her parents; the color of her bedroom walls, what she had for breakfast...everything was fading. But Oceana wasn’t sure if she wanted the fake memories, the lie she had been living.

  Oceana leapt out of her chair and stormed out of the office.

  “I want answers,” she said as she closed the door. She quickly looked around the room to ensure she was alone. When she saw no one, Oceana ran through the rows of pods, in the direction the man had come from.

  She walked through the rows of pods until she saw a door placed behind the very last row. When she approached the door it slid open, revealing a white tiled floor, a glass gate and a long black rug.

  Oceana walked toward the gate, pressing her feet delicately on the floor, feeling like it would cave in at any moment.

  She placed one hand on the gate railing. It became a light green and the gate fell open. Oceana paused. The gate remained open. She stepped onto the long black carpet when it suddenly began to move. She fell on her knees as the carpet raced forward. Her eyes were open and watering. She couldn’t see anything besides blurs. She tried to grab onto the carpet, but it wasn’t made of any type of fabric. It was smooth and slid across her palms, almost like leather.

  Just when Oceana’s stomach had started to churn, the carpet came to a stop. She got to her feet, pushed through the gate and ran through the nearest door. The door slid closed behind her. Once again, she was in a room full of pods.

  Oceana leaned against a wall. She swallowed the bile she felt in her throat and took several deep breaths. When the air could easily enter her lungs and the contents of her stomach were no longer trying to escape, she stood up from the wall.

  This room was much larger than the previous one she had escaped from and it had more pods. Oceana pulled the coat around her and started to walk through the rows. Every once in a while she would glance at the person inside the pod. Then, she would immediately look at their front box.

  Every box was different. One box showed a woman with dark hair walking through a forest with the tallest trees Oceana had ever seen. Another showed a man with long braids living in a house made of ice.

  The people inside were different, as well. They had different skin tones, different colored eyes and hair textures, but none of them had purple eyes like Oceana or pale blue skin like the man who rested in the pod beside her.

  One pod contained a woman with short red hair and a face full of freckles. Oceana bent down by the container. She looked up at the front box. The woman was sitting in a chair beside a bed. An older female rested in the bed. She looked very similar to the young woman by her side, except her hair was grey and her face wrinkled.

  Several machines were connected to the older woman. Her eyes were closed and she was motionless. The young woman cried beside her.

  Oceana glanced between the two figures in the box. “Is she...dying?”

  As if she could hear her, the young woman began to wail. Oceana pushed away from the container and the woman’s wails. She stumbled backwards, fresh tears forming in her own eyes. She spun on her heels, ready to run when she saw a man staring at her.

  He wasn’t old and hunched over like the man before. He looked younger and stood taller. He seemed just as surprised to see Oceana as she was to see him.

  For a moment, they stared at each other, both unsure of what to do next. Then, the young man said, “Number 32?”

  And Oceana ran.

  “Number 32!”

  She wasn’t sure where she was running. Getting away from the young man seemed like the best idea. Oceana turned around a row of pods. There was a door at the end of the walkway. Relief filled her and she started to sprint toward the exit when a sharp pain stretched across her skull.

  Oceana fell to the floor. She searched the room for her attacker. Her eyes fell on one of the pod’s boxes. It showed a cemetery.

  “GRAB HER LEGS, YOU idiot!” Lenny turned Number 32 on her back and grabbed her arms. He looked at Ted, who had not moved and followed his gaze.

  “Stop staring into her eyes and help me! Here.” Lenny closed her eyes. “Now, come on.”

  Ted shook his head. “She was looking at me.”

  “And? She has eyes, doesn’t she?”

  “Her eyes...”

  “You’re too soft, boy,” said Lenny as he started to drag her down the walkway.

  “...they were alive.”

  Lenny dragged Number 32’s body back to the belt. Ted followed behind him.

  The belt sped backwards and stopped in front of the the same steel door Ted had seen before. Lenny went to pull the body on the tile when a sharp ache shot through his back. He hissed in pain and looked up at the young Ted.

  “Can you help me, you idiot? Or are you still shell-shocked?”

  Some of the color had returned to Ted’s face. He nodded and grabbed Number 32’s legs. Together they crossed the tiled floor, entered the room and dragged the body back to its pod.

  Lenny placed her beside the container and took a deep breath. He looked at Ted.

  “This is why you always check, understand? Do you know what would have happened to us if she had gotten out?”

  “I just...I didn’t...she was looking right at me,” Ted stammered.

  Lenny shrugged. “And what if she was? She’s only a Plug, boy.”

  “I guess...you’re right...maybe, I’m being, childish,” he said.

  “You are,” Lenny quickly agreed. “We’ll have to check her head wound later. The nanos in the water should take care of it, though...help me put her in.”

  Lenny grabbed the arms, Ted grabbed the legs and then, Number 32 woke up.

  THE MEN FROZE. SHE blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting before they landed on Lenny’s face, and then she screamed.

  Number 32 howled like a banshee. She kicked her legs and tugged her arms, trying to escape from their grasp.

  “Hold her, boy, hold her. We just got to put her in,” shouted Lenny.

  But Ted had been shaken. He loosened his grip and her legs slipped to the floor.

  When she tried to stand Lenny pushed his body against her own and she fell backwards into the pod. He took both hands and held her down as the water filled her lungs. Oceana struggled under his grasp, flinging her arms wildly and splashing him with water.

&n
bsp; Lenny searched her pod for the discarded nose plugs. When he found them at the side of the container, he used one hand to shove them into her nose, so she could breathe.

  Then, he grabbed her plug. The end was still stained with blood.

  Oceana watched, wide eyed, as Lenny held the instrument between his fingers. She thought back to the blood that had been dripping from her temple before.

  He wants to stick that in me?

  Oceana forced her body upwards and out of the water.

  “No,” she screamed. “I’m not going back. I know the truth. I know the truth!”

  She lunged to the side, but the old man’s body blocked her from escape.

  “I don’t want to be lied to,” she wailed. As the old man blocked her path, she searched the room for another route. And then she found Ted.

  Young Ted,standing a few feet away, looked like a horrified child frozen in place.

  She looked into his eyes and grew hopeful.

  “Please,” she said. “Save me.”

  Lenny shoved the plug into her temple.

  Number 32 became still. Her eyes glazed over, her voice faded and she slumped into the pod as if it were her bed.

  She had been silenced.

  Lenny stayed kneeling by her, breathing heavily with one knee propped off the ground. He rested his head against the pod cover and looked up a Ted.

  He shook his head. “You see, boy? You gotta keep them down. You gotta keep them down.”

  OCEANA OPENED HER EYES. She was back in her room at the manor. Her stomach sank and tears begin to stream down her cheeks.

  I’m trapped...again.

  “Lady Oceana, everyone’s so glad you’re okay.” Martha appeared by her bed side. She smiled. “We thought you were gone forever.”

  “Martha, I—“ Oceana tried to sit up, but found that she had been strapped down at her waist and arms. She turned to Martha.

  The maid looked away. Then, the door opened and there were footsteps.

  A man dressed in all white appeared at the foot of the bed. There was a long metal syringe in his hand.

 

‹ Prev