Dead Awakenings (2 page)

“You know, I think I remember getting some sort of flyer about a research trial or something…let me see…” Mac rifled through the papers on his desk, looked around, scratched his head, and then looked somewhere else. He sat and thought for a minute.

“Oh, that’s OK. I don’t think—”

He snapped his fingers. “Got it!” Spinning in his chair he moved toward a shelf and pulled a piece of paper out of a stack. “Ah, here we go!” He held up a bright green flyer. “It’s research testing for something. The money’s supposed to be pretty good. I wanted to do it, but they wouldn’t take me. I’m too old.”

“Aren’t you a grad student here?”

“Yeah, but I’m twenty-nine and the cutoff is twenty-five.” He laughed. “I’m an old man.”

She snickered in spite of herself.

“Anyway, check it out. It couldn’t hurt. If it doesn’t work out, come see me and we can discuss the schedule, OK?”

“Yeah, OK.” She noticed again that his eyes had taken on an uncomfortable intensity. She cleared her throat. “Well, I better run.”

“Sure. Tell me how it goes.”

“Thanks.” She stood and made her way to the door.

In the hallway she glanced down at the green flyer in her hand. She thought about the money she needed. She’d sold her plasma before to get her by for a week, but a drug trial was so much more. She folded the flyer in half and looked around for a trashcan to toss it in. Not seeing one she shoved the paper into her bag before heading out into the rain. As the first tiny drops landed on her, she shivered.

Chapter Two

Three Months Later

Drip…drip…drip…

The sound came from far away, even and uncomplicated, and grew steadily louder.

Drip…drip…drip…

She lay motionless, the sound bouncing and pooling inside her ears. Perfect cadence. Over and over. The sound of liquid, hitting liquid.

Half-awake, her mind came closer and closer to consciousness. Somehow, the thought frightened her. But as always happened, the more she fought waking, the quicker it pounced on her and demanded she do exactly that.

Her eyelids felt as though they had been sealed with melted wax. The lashes clung together, heavy and sticky.

Someone breathed beside her. She smelled his menthol aftershave as his stale chip-scented breath hit her skin.

Fat fingers pried open one lid and then the other, flashing a bright light into them, blinding and searing her eyes. Her mind registered nothing but the light. She rolled her eyes up into the cave of her skull.

She tried to lift her hand, but she couldn’t move. Her mind screamed for her body to obey. She breathed deep. How long had it been since she had last bathed?

“Where am I?” Her heartbeat quickened.

She heard an urgent voice. “Make sure her restraints are tight.”

Her ears rang with the squeak of hard-soled shoes walking across the floor, scratching, like someone writing on a pad of paper, and an ever present clicking. The once soothing, dripping sound now laughed at her, taunting her confusion. The buzz from the florescent lights overhead reminded her of a doomed fly in an electric trap.

She kept her eyes shut as panic alit within her. What would she find if she opened them? Wracking her brain she tried to remember something… anything. What had happened? Her mind felt like an empty attic; lots of room, but void of any old bits and pieces of her life.

“How long should we let her lay there?” It was a wheezy voice with a cough.

“Let her adjust. It’s a terrific sign. Most wake up screaming. She’ll be hungry soon enough. Is her food prepared?”

“It’s waiting in the hall.”

She didn’t feel hungry. Tomato soup, root beer, chocolate, popcorn, PB&J, fresh berries, burgers and fries. Nothing sounded good.

“We need to get her up and moving. She needs to feed so we can start testing.”

“We can’t rush anything this time.”

“What if she’s a Class A though?” Wheezy hacked again. “This may well be the link we have been searching for. You saw what she did. The way she came back all of a sudden.”

“She isn’t going anywhere.”

Her mind began to reel with more questions. Panic scratched its way up her neck and left her skin prickly. She picked up on a faint sound. Soft footsteps falling nearly silently on the floor far away, coming closer, trying hard not to be heard. How could she hear that? The arguing next to her faded to white noise as she concentrated on the sound of moving feet. Now, clearer than before, heavily booted footsteps walked on the outer floor, hands and arms moved carefully. She could almost see in her mind the way they prowled down the hall in formation.

Opening her eyes, she was immediately flooded with light. Something flew into view, obscuring her vision like a snowstorm at high speed. The pain invading her head made her eyes water. She slammed them shut again. In the brief tenth of a second that her eyes had opened she processed everything around her.

“The lights are too bright. Shut them—”

Those ever so silent footsteps entered the room. The sounds of a scuffle broke out, and the stale-chip-breathed man to her right cried out and abruptly stopped.

Another scream of pain and shuffling followed by grunts and a crunching noise. The sound made her stomach lurch. Something creaked, like furniture being pushed around. Recoiling at the loud clatter of metal objects against the floor, she tried to cover her ears with her hands, but restraints on her wrists prevented her from moving. Fear took over. She pulled and struggled against the restraining cuffs.

Suddenly her world went white; she screamed, light flooding her vision once more. She thrashed her head. A strong hand pressed her forehead into the pillow.

“Stop!” he commanded. The person holding her eyelids swore in frustration. He didn’t smell like stale chips; he smelled of cologne and musky sweat. He smelled intoxicating, making her lessen her struggle against him. She breathed him into her soul, taking his essence into her memory. The man gently lifted her eyelid. Before she could take much in something cool pressed against her eyeball, and he released her lid. The foreign object felt smooth and flexible. Her other eye was lifted open and the process repeated. Lying still for a few moments she got used to the plastic. Finally, she dared opening her eyes a fraction of an inch waiting for the searing light, but it didn’t come.

Cracked and broken ceiling tiles hung loosely from the rafters. A rusty sink in the corner dripped methodically. Dirty floral wallpaper sloughed off the walls. Two men in lab coats lay on the floor face down and immobile. A man straddled one of them, scanning them with a black device. A young guy checked out a computer on a small crowded table to the left of her. She watched his fingers race across the keyboard. That was the tapping noise she’d heard earlier. A huge figure stood in the shadow of the door, talking on a cell phone.

Someone loomed very close to her. Shifting her gaze, she stared up in awe at the strangest eyes. Golden honey mixed with orange flames. The pupils narrowed like a cats, his face pale, like there was no blood in him at all. His lips were pale as well. A strong jaw and high cheekbones structured his hard, calculating face; his Roman nose crafted as fine as the statue of David. His hair gleamed a pure white. As alien as he looked, the attraction was instantaneous. Scanning the other men in the room, she couldn’t see their eyes, but they too had the same white hair and skin.

“You in there?” The man spoke in a hard voice. He had a small contact case in his hand. Snapping the case shut he shoved it into one of his pockets.

She didn’t answer, transfixed by his eyes. Glowing with an inner light they probed her, searching for something. She should have been afraid, but he was too handsome to be scared of.

“Hey. Anybody home?”

Still she didn’t speak.

His gaze traveled over her face taking in every inch. He drank her in. His pupils relaxed, becoming rounder and softer.

“I don’t think this one came all the way back, Aron,” he said to the man on the floor.

The man who had been scanning the dead doctor walked over to her bed. He peered into her eyes, looked at her hands, her arms, and then picked the sheet up, inspecting her legs. Quickly he unbuckled the restraints on her ankles. When he began to pull up her hospital gown she’d had enough. Planting her foot in the middle of his chest, she thrust forward and caused him to stumble over the body and fall to his knees. Her weak legs felt a bit stiff, but her aim was good.

The man who had put the lenses in her eyes let out a small growl and crouched as if anticipating he might be next. She lay her leg on the bed and didn’t make a move against him.

“I could be wrong though.”

“Yeah, I’d say so, Luca.” Aron coughed and gasped for air, finally getting up from his knees. “We really should learn some manners. I think we should have started with the fact that we’re here to help you. But I guess we’re a little too late for that.”

She blinked mutely. He was young, maybe twenty or twenty-one.

“This has to be weird for you.” He gestured toward her. “You can hear and see and smell more than you ever have before. You’re chained to a bed and can’t even remember your own name. But we’re here to get you out.”

Shorter and thinner than Luca, Aron had white skin, orange eyes, and white, spiky hair. He smiled at her. She tried to wrap her mind around his words. Maybe they belonged to some kind of new cult.

Hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway, not even trying to disguise the fact that they were coming. All eyes in the room shifted to the door.

“Victor,” Luca yelled to the man on the phone. Victor stopped talking.

“Five of them, coming up the stairwell. Heavily armed.” Victor’s voice was low. Luca locked eyes with him, and Victor gave a slight nod.

“Where the hell did they come from?” Aron asked. Both he and Luca looked at the two bodies on the floor at the same time.

But there weren’t two bodies lying on the floor. One of the lab coats crawled on his belly toward the corner of the room, a cell phone in his hand.

“Aron, get her out of here,” ordered Luca.

“Luca—”

“There’s no time, you have to get her out of here. Now!” Luca’s eyes had gone back to slits.

“You don’t know me,” Aron spoke to her again, “but right now we don’t have time and you just have to trust me. OK?” Aron turned. “Luca wait—”

She glanced over and heard a crack and a pop as Luca twisted the neck of the doctor with the cell phone. When Luca turned around she’d never seen anything more deadly. His eyes burned, but the rest of his face was as blank as if he had killed a bug on the wall. Desire coursed through her at the sight of him. She felt her cheeks flush at the thought and she turned her gaze from him.

“Did you have to kill him? We could have used him for information.” Aron let out a sigh of frustration.

Luca said nothing, pushing the body out of the way.

Aron released her wrists from their leather imprisonments. They were red and raw. She hadn’t realized how much the pressure of the cuffs had bothered her until they were off. How long had she been here?
Aron slid her legs out of bed and pulled some pants on her in one fluid movement. Her legs wobbled, like old, warped tires on a bicycle. He pulled a shirt out of a black bag on the floor.

“Can you get that on?” he asked.

She stared at him, unblinking.

“Fine, have it your way.” He reached to untie her hospital gown, but she shoved him away.

“Good.” He forced the shirt into her hand.

With a small attempt at modesty, she spun toward the corner, whipped off the gown, and pulled on the long-sleeve black shirt. The smooth feel of the weave caressed her bare skin. She pulled the large shirt down over her stomach, noticing for the first time that her skin was white as milk. Had she always been this pale?
Her neck prickled, and she glanced up to see Luca, his eyes like fire, staring at her now covered breasts. He looked away.

Whomever was on his way had come out of the stairwell. Their pace quickened.

Luca was at her side in an instant. Taking her by the arm, he dragged her toward the open door. “Aron. Out. Now.” He yelled in her ear, making her shrink away from the booming sound.

Aron put the last few things into his bag. The guy sitting at the computer tossed Aron a jump drive.

“Get ready,” Luca said to the young guy at the computer.

“Already on it boss.” He began to set up what looked like a small explosive device on the PC.

Victor turned, as if Luca had called to him, though Luca hadn’t made a sound. Victor nodded and closed his eyes.

Aron grabbed her by the arm. “Sorry, sister, time to go.”

The next thing she knew she was being dragged down the hall. Five men burst through a set of double doors. Victor stepped out of the doorway and thrust his hands in front of him. A large, clear arc of energy burst forth from his body and plowed into the men, knocking them to the ground. The energy burst dissipated and spread out, disappearing behind them. She opened her mouth in silent surprise. Luca exploded from the room, rushing the stunned men.

Aron pulled her around a corner and through a squeaky swinging door. They ran past carts of old medical supplies, dusty gurneys, and empty hospital rooms. The lights flickered, and she wondered if Victor was drawing on some of their electrical energy for power. Everything blurred together as Aron forced her forward. Scents filled her nostrils: old urine, musty linens, metal, and lemon floor wax. The lingering smells coated her tongue and made her head spin. Aron banged through an emergency door straight into a narrow stairwell. Her legs buckled, and she wrenched her arm free in time to catch herself before she hit the cold cement floor.

“We have to keep moving.” Aron crouched in front of her. “I know you’ve just rebirthed, and you haven’t fed yet, but you need to get up.”

What the heck was he talking about? Aron pulled her to her feet and dragged her up the stairs. Suddenly dizzy, her vision blurred; her skin was slick with sweat. She stumbled, almost falling backward down the stairs. Her stomach gave a lurch. Maybe something to eat wasn’t such a bad idea.