The Pack - Chapter Two - Kaat

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work.php?id=103962 Here's a link if you haven't seen chapter one!

I feel something cold cascade down over my head and glide gently over my sore body. I love the feeling, the chill that seeps through my skin, making me feel aware for the first time. But the awareness that follows isn’t so grand. My muscles ache from all the tests they’ve run, and my brain pounds from all the drugs they’ve injected into me. I wish I could move. Escape. Find somewhere, anywhere to hide from these awful people. But all I can do is wait.

I glare at the two doctors on either side of me. What are they going to do to me now? I wonder. Chop up my limbs to see if there are any significant changes? Perhaps they will dissect my brain just to see what’s inside. But no, why stop there when there’s so much more to be done? It’s so much more fun if one is scarred for life, emotionally and physically.

I scream in agony as my skin sizzles and I can smell barbecue. I want to vomit. It feels like eternity before they finally remove the brand from my skin, watching it bubble with sick pleasure. I close my eyes trying not to focus on the pain, but that only worsens it. My attention immediately goes to where it made contact with my leg. I can feel my skin bubbling up from the heat. I can just imagine the scar that it’s going to leave.

“There. Not so bad now, is it, 5823?” I hear a voice coo from somewhere behind me.

But it is that bad. It deals far more damage than any other burn could possibly do. It’s a sign. A sign that I am no more than a number. A piece of their property. I mean nothing.

As I lye on the floor of my cell, drowning in my own sorrow and self pity, the smallest sound strikes my ears. A slight ringing sounds not far above where I lay.

I hold my breath in an attempt to make out what the commotion is. Did an experiment go wrong? Is someone dying? Did someone manage to escape? The last thought struck me, causing my hopes to go out of control. What if someone escaped? Will they come back? Do they know I’m here? Will they save me?

“Why the worried face, 5823? Did you hear something?” I look to the source of the voice. Behind me kneels a man, well into his forties. A stupid grin creases his stress wrinkled face and his breath reeks from too many hours of overtime. Little flecks of meat and cheese are hidden within his bushy black mustache and I shudder.

“Don’t you have some more illegal tests to run, Hyde?” I hiss back.

His eyes widen at my hostile state, feigning shock. “Well then, I guess that means you aren’t too bad off.”

Then, turning his head, he yells at a woman, “Bring me the sedative so that we can keep her quiet until the order for release is given.” Release. So I really am just an animal to them.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to be out of here, but if it’s for their purposes then I really am just like a dog, foolishly following its owner’s every command. The cell door before me starts to sway. What am I to do with my life? Should I just give up here and let them throw my corpse down the chute?

No!

What am I thinking? Why should I let them commandeer my life? If I escaped of my own accord then I will no longer be their little dog that did what they wanted. No. I will be my own person.

Gathering all my strength, I manage to rise from the cold cement floor beneath me. Warmth floods my once cold body, like spring melting away the winter frost. I close my eyes, bracing my body for the intense pain that will come when I get up.

In and out. In and out. I concentrate on breathing and open my eyes. The cell seems brighter than I remember it, but that doesn’t matter. From the corner of my eye I sense movement and turn to see Hyde walking towards me in slow motion.

Why is he walking so slowly? I wonder. Perhaps he just wants to aggravate me. I smirk. Good luck making it out of this alive.

I don’t know what brings about my sudden burst of arrogance, but I lunge for the rusted iron bars before me. They aren’t widely spaced, but somehow I make it out without a hitch. Looking over my shoulder, I see the bars bent and broken, some tangled within others. Wonder what happened there.

My entire body is numb, including my brain. I can’t think straight. I feel like I’m in a dream, a never-ending nightmare.

The doctor is still making his way over to me. His eyes widen at the same sluggish pace upon seeing me out of my prison. I strike the nerves between his shoulder and neck, knocking him to the ground. He even seems to fall slowly.

I sprint for the stairs. How long has it been since I’ve run like this, walked like this, moved like this? Weeks? Months? Years even! Despite not having any exercise for who knows how long I am able to sprint up the stairs with ease, two at a time.

As I climb higher and higher up the building the stairs change from cement to marble. When I finally reach the ground floor I can hear the alarm bells ringing with a metallic echo that grates on my ears. I am tempted to cover my ears so that I don’t have to hear this dreadful clamour, but then something else reaches my ears. It’s a heartbeat. It’s faint and far away, so it’s really a wonder that I can hear it, but it gives me hope.

It’s warm and steady. I can hear breathing too. Why could I not hear this before? Is it because I was too busy drowning in misery? Pity? Pain? Either way, I can hear it now, and I want to get closer to it, I want to get out.

I turn right then left and stop. Which direction can I hear this single heartbeat best? Where is it coming from? I run right and am rewarded by a giant glass door, light shining through in an array of colors, and it’s not artificial. It’s the sun.

I can feel its warmth flooding through me. I open the big glass door, and step out into the cool, sunny day. A breeze gently caresses my worn body.

I feel alive.

Chapter three - http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work.php?id=104945