Ultimately, I wandered around the halls, and around outside; ignoring the dirty looks the guards gave me as I tried to find some isolated shadow to silently suffer in until the very early hours of the morning, yet still sometime before the first twinklings of dawn, I find a corner to hide where the walls of the warehouse and the walls of the barracks connected. There, I waited in misery; my bones felt as if they were expanding and contracting, and my head throbbed as if it were breathing in painful inhalations, and painful exhalations. To combat this, I got it in my head to try to hold my breath to stop the ceaseless aches. Of course that didn’t accomplish anything.
Regret begins to form around me. At least I would be able to scrounge up cans or something for a pinch of ice, but here it was probably impossible. All that was left in my pocket from the town was the dollar my brother had given me. Even the golden business card was removed, along with the keys I had found on the side of the road, and the phone that I had, ‘found,’ inside of a lady’s bag at a bus stop. Now I had to suffer through this, and why? Because I got grabbed up by some cult’s promises? I’m such an idiot. It’s unfair. What did I ever do to deserve this?
Dawn came while I wallowed in my misery, and I pushed myself to my feet. I still wasn’t very tired, but the light of the sun would be too much for me at the moment. The scent of cooking food emanates from the hall as soon as I step in. Ah, I suppose it’s almost six in the morning. The smell of the food cooking stirs my stomach. It must have been over 50 hours since my last meal; a bit of a pizza I had grabbed from an open car window that I shared with my dealer and his buddies. I got a single piece, but at least it got me a rock.
There were people already inside the cafeteria; some of the women I had noticed in the crowd were standing next to one another talking; they huddled together and drew in their shoulders as I walked by and toward Jack who was standing in line; looking at the small collection of foods laid out beneath the plastic sneeze guard.
“Hey, didn’t see you come in last night.” He said as I approached.
Using a pair of tongs, he pulled two waffles on his plate and scooped up a spoonful of scrambled eggs. It smelled delicious, and I quickly joined him in line.
“Yeah, couldn’t sleep,” I answered.
My stomach grumbled as I put three sausage links, some fluffy biscuits, and a ladle full of country gravy over both. We sit down on one of the tables near the back of the room. Jack sat with his back near the wall, as he picked carefully at his food while I began to eat mine. It was delicious. Perhaps it was because it was the first thing in a long time that I’ve eaten that wasn’t pulled from the trash, or stolen from a car, but it reminded me of my grandmother’s biscuits and gravy. By the time I was finished, Jack had taken a couple bites from his food.
“Not hungry?” I ask.
“Uh...I just find it hard to eat when people are watching.” He responded.
What an odd thing to say.
“So what’s your opinion on this crazy shit they’ve been saying?”
“Well...it’s better than living on the street, I suppose.” Jack said, “I mean if they’re good for the money they offered.”
“How much were you offered?”
“180k for a year of service.” He said, “Not a bad salary.”
“Do you think we’ll actually be fighting something?”
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Jack snorts.
“Maybe some warlord in Africa, but like goblins and orcs and stuff? Probably not.”
“Probably, eh?”
“Well it would be cool if we did, so I’m holding out some hope.”
I roll my eyes. What a child. I finish up my breakfast, put my plate away, and walk away satisfied. When I walk away he begins to pick at his food more ravenously. As I move through the exit, there’s a woman standing there in a bright white lab coat. Beneath that, she wears a purple button-up shirt, with a blue lanyard. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun, and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses sat neatly on her pointed nose. She carried a clipboard in one hand with the bottom edge pressed against her stomach.
“Name?”
I turned to face her, and she drew her head back until her bun was pressed against the sterile white walls.
“Lyle Kyle,” I answered.
“Lyle Kyle, really?” Her brown eyes searched my face for any signs of coyness, finding none they darted to the piece of paper, “Ah, there you are. Yes, well are you doing with breakfast?”
I nodded in response.
“Then please exit this building and then follow the sidewalk to the building on our left to start the process of transfusion.”
She spoke through bated breath as she breathed in through her mouth in between words.
“Right now?”
“Yes. Right now. We want to get everyone acclimating as soon as possible.”
“How about the people sleeping?”
“If they’re not here for breakfast, we’ll tell them to go when they wake up.” She said, “Now please, go.” She shooed me away with a flick of her wrist.
As soon as I stepped away, she let go of her the air in her lungs and began breathing again. I walked back out of the hall and followed the cement path to the building she indicated. Once in, a group of men in blue scrubs indicated for me to follow them.
“Before we start, we’re going to have you take a shower.” One of the men said; his dark skin catching the glow of the ceiling fluorescence. “To make sure there’s no risk of infection.” He, too, spoke through bated breath as he led me to a restroom, and shoved me through the door.
“Christ’s sake. Ok, fine.”
I stripped naked and tossed my clothes into a pile beneath the porcelain sink. A bit of green mildew had begun to grow on them; more than likely picked up from the pond my brother had tossed me in.
“that dollar better still be there when I get out!” I shout as I step into the shower.
As soon as I step into the tub it turns on. A blast of scalding hot water scours my flesh. I hurriedly scrubbed with the washcloth; lathering on a small layer of soap over my body; scrubbing at the itchy sores all over my arms and legs especially until the scabs had been scraped off, and the flesh was rubbed raw.
I was able to stand the blast of hot water for a solid five minutes before I reached through the veil of steam to turn the knob. Once the shower was off, a blast of hot, dry wind howled down from the ceiling and assailed me. It pushed the droplets of water off my body and nearly sent me to the floor. By the time the dryer had stopped, my hair felt as dry as straw, and my skin felt like leather. I stepped out of the tub and looked for my clothes; they were missing, and in their place was a set of blue scrubs and black slip-on shoes. The moist, wrinkled dollar sat on top of both. I sighed and slipped them on before stepping out into the hall.
“Lyle Kyle?” A man stood by the door to the restroom to greet me.
“Yeah.”
“This way. We’ll get you started.”
They lead me into a sterile waiting room and sit me down on the corner of a covered leather-cushioned examination table. A moment later three other nurses enter a room; two pushing a metal cart with a large, white plastic machine. It had a small screen on the front and a small bit of plastic that stuck out like a tongue right beneath that. The third nurse pulled out a lancelet, and a Q-tip from a zipped-up bag.
“Which is your dominant hand?” He asked behind his cloth mask.
I wiggled my right. He nodded and grabbed hold of my right hand and wiped the Q-tip over my thumb before poking me with the lance. I hiss and try to pull away, but the nurse is...well, unbelievably strong. I couldn’t even move as he grasped my wrist. He dragged my thumb over the tongue-like thing of the machine and dropped a single ruby bead. The blood droplet rolled in through a small channel, and the machine whirred to life. The screen flickered on and words began to form;
[Type – O+,
Signs of Disease: Rhinovirus, Beginning Stages of Pneumonia
Temperament; Hot-headed, greedy, loyal, cunning
Chance of Growth; Medium-high
Recommend Transfusion Material – X1BM9XP]
One of the nurses rights the code down and leaves a moment later, while the rest take turns washing my wrist with pungent red liquid. One sticks a needle in my arm hooked up to a bag hanging off a metal rack just in time for the nurse that left to hook another bag onto the rack and get it ready. A moment later a needle is in my other arm, and some knobs are turned on the tubes.
It’s cold at first, and then hot. Boiling hot. Like someone is pouring pure fire into my veins. I don’t even know when I started to scream, or when I fell over on my back. I thrashed around the table for a moment; trying to pull the needle out of my arm. The orderlies and nurses held me in place. My vision shifts and blurs. Streaks of every color imaginable flash before my eyes as the fire moves from my veins to my heart, and from my heart down into the core of my stomach. Up from my stomach, it branches out all across my body until every single inch of my body burned and convulsed. At some point, the entire world feels as if it's been submerged in flames.