Of Illnesses And Antidotes - Chapter Two

"Here you are. Two hundred milligrams of ergotamine tablets. Only take a maximum of three per day and a maximum of five per week. If you do take multiple in one day, take one and wait thirty minutes before taking another." I smile warmly at the tiny nine-year-old girl stood behind the counter. Her small, hazelnut eyes gaze up at me worriedly. She bites her lip.

"Th...thank you," she stammers and nods her head at me. She turns around and shuffles back towards her dormitory. Her shoulder-length chestnut hair is swept over her shoulders by a dainty, dark hand and then I lose her in a throng of children trudging back to their dormitories.

Sighing, I glance down at my clipboard and realise I only have one patient left. Clearing my throat, I lean in close to a small microphone. My steady breathing tickles its sensors, sending quiet crackles echoing throughout the main hall.

"Can Child zero-eight-five-six-six-three please report to the pharmacy hatch."

Pushing the microphone away from my lips, I glance upwards just in time to see a tall, dark-haired girl with sharp green eyes striding towards the pharmacy counter. Her hand slips inside her jumpsuit and withdraws a folded slip of paper from her bra. She unfolds it and slides it across the counter. Smiling at her, I check the prescription and disappear off to fetch her pills, all the while muttering to myself the measurement.

Moments later, I return. "Fifty milligrams of hydroxyzine. Only to be administered when needed at a maximum of twice per day."

"Cheers." The girl's hand snatches up the paper bag containing her pills and she marches away.

I raise an eyebrow. "You're welcome." Turning around, I catch sight of Dr Craig heading out of the storeroom. "Hey, Dr Craig, do you want me to pull down the shutters?"

She shakes her head. "That's alright, Naomi, I'll do it later. How was your shift?"

I shrug. "Decent. Nothing much happened."

"We hadn't missed any prescriptions then?"

"Nope. Well, one girl's dosage was ten milligrams short but Marcia had that sorted in no time."

Dr Craig smiles warmly at me. "Good. Well, see you tomorrow, Naomi. Bright and early."

"Bright and early as always, doctor." I smile back.

"Don't forget your medicine."

"I won't."

"Oh, and Naomi?"

"Yes?"

Dr Craig nods at the surgical mask, pulled down around my neck. "Make sure you wear that properly next time."

I smile sheepishly. "Sorry, doctor. See you tomorrow."

“Remember to stay out of trouble.”

“Why does everyone think I’m a troublemaker?” I mutter to myself, shaking my head.

Well, there may be one reason…

Passing by Dr Craig, I enter the storeroom and remove the apron from my jumpsuit, then hang it back on its peg. Pulling the surgical mask over my head, I scrunch it into a ball and toss it into a nearby bin. Breathing a sigh of relief, I leave the storeroom and the pharmacy through the side-door, heading towards the girls' dormitories. Halfway there I realise I'd left my medicine behind. I pause in my tracks and take a second to consider then carry on. I can easily get my medicine in the morning. It's not like I need it.

Veering sharply to the left, I slip through a pair of double doors and stride down a long, alabaster corridor. On the right are seventeen mahogany doors, whereas the other wall has been left untouched by everything save a lick of paint. The majority of the doors are adorned with a golden, brass integer between five and eighteen. I stop beside the door labelled with the number fifteen and gently nudge the door open a crack. Stepping through the void in the wall, I close the door behind me and regard the view ahead.

Four ivory walls establish a rectangular dormitory housing forty-eight teenage girls. Twelve wooden bunks beds line each wall either side of me, lumpy mattresses squashed into each sleeping compartment. Underneath the bunks are small, wooden crates pockmarked with knots that accommodate the scrap of belongings that we each own. Nothing personal, nothing special. Except for the silver locket, buried deep under a mountain of crumpled medicine pouches and prescription notes that I purposefully defer from throwing away.

My hand reaches up to my neck and comes into contact with the cold, smooth skin of the jugular notch of my neck. My heart rate quickens a little as the thought of losing the pendant crosses my mind. Then I remember waking up late this morning and rushing to get outside; I remember not putting it on. I breathe a sigh of relief.

The majority of the bunks are occupied by one or both of their owners, exchanging quiet conversations with one another or spending their time wisely by reading the material that we're permitted to have. Those certain books are one of few items we're authorised to own. Not that we can read that well: education finishes at the age of nine, so our knowledge of words is limited to key language and medical terms. Aside from books, small pads of paper and pencils are allowed, as well as decks of cards, soft toys for the younger children and compact board games like draughts and chess. Our options are restricted, but considering we don't get a lot of free time, we live with it.

I stop in the centre of the room and turn to face a bed on the left-hand side. A tall, thin girl with dark skin sits cross-legged on the top bunk, her long, caramel hair cascading past her shoulders as her eyes skim the words on the prescription she grasps. I smile.

"Hey, Renee."

She glances up and the minute she sees me, her lips break out into a grin. "Hey, Naomi. How was your shift?"

I roll my eyes, heaving myself up onto the top bunk. "The usual. Dull but enjoyable."

Renee chuckles. "Did you remember your medicine this time?"

"Nope." I grin sheepishly. "But since when do I ever?"

Just then, three deep screeches of a siren blare out, capturing everyone's attention. The room falls deadly silent. Nobody moves. A moment or two later, everybody returns to what they were originally doing. I frown.

"Is nobody going to dinner?" I turn to Renee.

She shrugs. "There was an announcement earlier. It's been delayed by half an hour."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me. I'm as clueless about it as you are."

If I wasn't as curious about the unknown as I am, I probably wouldn't have said my next sentence. But it happened.

"I'm gonna go find out."

Renee gives me a strange look. "What?"

"I said, I'm gonna go find out."

Renee lets out a laugh. "Yeah right. What you gonna do if you get caught?"

"I'm not going to get caught."

"How? It's impossible. The matrons always patrol the corridors in the evening. And it’s against the Statute to go wandering the Sanctuary without-"

"Without a solid reason, yeah, I know.” I grin triumphantly. “But I happen to have an excuse."

"Which is?"

Jumping down from the top bunk, I turn around and smile at Renee. "Medicine."

Before she can say another word, I stride out of the room and close the door silently behind me. Once outside, I press my back against the wall and catch my breath, thinking through this crazy idea of mine. Breathing steadily, I close my eyes for a moment or two. There's no going back. If they catch me, I'm in trouble. Big trouble. Opening my eyes, I grin and head down the corridor. Trouble is my middle name. May as well live up to the expectations.

When I reach the corner of the corridor, I flatten myself against the wall and sneak a glimpse into the main hall. Hushed voices waft past me but no figures emerge into my vision. Perfect. Glancing from left to right, I check the hallway is clear before creeping towards the pharmacy side-door. Crouching down, I grasp the handle and gently twist it. The door silently swings open. Crawling inside, I quietly close the door behind me and position myself behind the counter. I peer down the medicine aisles to ensure that I am completely alone before settling on my knees. Slowly, I straighten up so I'm just able to see over the top.

My eyes scan the hallway and they instantly land upon a small group of adults clothed in white coats huddled around the kitchen's serving hatch directly opposite the pharmacy. They all have their backs to me so their words are hard to distinguish. I sigh. Searching the room, I discover nowhere else to hide that's closer. Turning my attention back to the doctors, I watch them slowly turn around, and through the narrow gaps between each figure, I catch sight of it. Eyes widened, I duck out of sight behind the counter and hold my breath. I don't move a muscle. But my mind is scarred with the image of a pale, limp hand drooping from the serving hatch, its elixir of life drained to nothing.

"What are we going to do? We can't just leave the poor soul there."

"We'll take him where we take the others. That way it won't look suspicious." Male. Deep, calm and dominant. His words are threaded with a hint of a strange accent.

"But they're bound to realise something's going on if he doesn't show up soon." Female. Gentle and reasonable. Somewhat familiar.

"They'll assume he went like the rest. They've adjusted to the idea that some go and others stay. They won't bat an eyelid."

"How can you be so sure?"

"It's happened before, hasn't it? It happens every day and nobody notices. Or, at least, they choose not to say anything about it."

"This is different."

"Not in the slightest. Look, we always cover it up impeccably when it’s anybody else, so this one will be a breeze. There's no need to worry, is there?" Murmurs of agreement respond to his question.

“What about the last time this…this happened?” Another woman speaks up. Her voice is more feminine, and of a higher pitch. Her concern for the matter echoes throughout her words.

“Last time makes no difference.” His tone grows harsher, colder. As if the very thought of this ‘last time’ is something to feel enraged about.

“What if they’re both connected, somehow? They could’ve known each other and plotted to-“

“It was over thirty years ago, Christ!” Everyone falls silent; partly due to courtesy, mostly due to fear. The man sighs, and quietens his voice. “There’s no way they could’ve known each other. But what we’ve got to do, are two things: one, find out exactly how he tried to do this. Two…” He pauses. “Ensure nobody tries to do this again. No one can hear of this, understood? It remains firmly between us. No subject can learn of what this boy’s tried to do or what the either one actually did.” A mumble of comprehension swiftly follows.

"I'd like to run an autopsy first before you take him away." The first woman speaks up again. Her voice is so, so familiar.

"Whatever for?"

"Procedure. We don't know how this happened. He could've done it, someone else could've done it; nobody knows except him and he's useless right now, therefore I need to run an autopsy. We don't want a third occurrence, do we?"

"If there are any signs of an autopsy, it could arouse suspicions."

"When has it ever?"

A small gasp flees from my lips. Nanoseconds later and my hand flies over my mouth. But it's too late. A wall of icy silence chokes up the void between me and the doctors. Shutting my eyes, I pray for a miracle to happen. All of a sudden, the sound of footsteps slices through the air like a knife, heading in my direction.

One step...two steps…ten steps…

Then they stop.

A moment later, the person appears to turn around and the footsteps fade into the distance. Breathing a sigh of relief, I open my eyes but stay firmly rooted to the ground. One single movement could give me away. God only knows what would happen then.

"We'll continue to discuss this in my office."

"What do we tell the subjects?"

"There was an incident in the kitchen. Any information besides that is classified. Understood?"

A murmur of agreement echoes in reply.

"Good." Heavy footsteps storm off in the opposite direction to the pharmacy. It takes a few moments before the remaining doctors follow. When all is silent, I dare to look up once again. The hall is completely deserted.

Standing up, I quickly seize my medicine from its shelf and flee the pharmacy before I'm caught. As I hurry to the dormitory, my heart pounds rhythmically against my chest. The corridor spins in front of my eyes and my vision blurs. Crashing against the wall, I take deep, heavy breaths. That voice. I recognised that voice. I don't want to believe it. How can it be? I trusted her. What's going on?

Straightening up, I roll back my shoulders and swallow back the lump in my throat. Striding forward, I bite my lip. Something's not right here.

What is this place? But more importantly, what are we doing here?