I’m still shaking as I take the next turn, moving toward what sounds like fingers typing away at keyboards. I’m looking for anything that might be, I dunno, scientific, so I try to find my way to the sound. Slowly I come to a vent overlooking what seems to be a really sterile, white room. There are a bunch of computers on one side, and there’s a guy strapped to a chair in the middle. He’s got restraints over his wrists and around his ankles, and his mouth is covered with a black band. Guy looks like total crap. He’s sweating, like, almost as bad as I am.
There’s another guy at the door. Judging by the tactical vest and the rifle he’s holding, he’s Security. As if the gas mask and his giant stature didn’t give him away. Finally, there’s one last guy. He’s some thin, scrawny-looking dude, like he grew up tall but never put on any weight. Anyway, he’s got a lab coat on, so I’m guessing he’s in the Science department. Didn’t realize that Science got to come up to Floor 1. I’m not saying they don’t; I’m just saying how the hell am I supposed to know how this works?
Whatever. Point is, I’m watching this Science guy walking between the computers, then checking the man’s restraints. He starts to talk. “Begin recording. Doctor Rivera, Tower Date 515.14.21. I am currently receiving a patient into custody to begin Reinforcement. The patient is from Floor 7 and has been tried and found guilty of spreading rumors of Angels in violation of the Speech Code. Security apprehended the patient on Floor 14, presumably trying to evade detection. Trial was held yesterday and concluded within two hours. Recommended sentencing is Reinforcement. Recording pause.” This guy, Rivera, looks up at the Security dude. “What Reinforcement’s done without Creep, though, right?”
The Security officer grunts and laughs, the two of them chuckling as the doctor returns to the side of the “patient.” Whatever the hell that means. “Recording resume. The patient in question will receive an injection from Creep samples retrieved from Floor 15. This makes the sample of moderate strength. Anticipated reaction is that the patient will incur euphoric and moderately strong hallucinogenic reactions. Once the Creep has bonded with his brain, he will, of course, produce an elevated degree of endorphins and dopamine over the course of the next year. This will make him happier and more compliant though, as always, the chemical changes to his brain place him at risk of death. However, in cases where Creep strains of this variety have been used, death occurs in less than twenty percent of all patients.”
I watch as the doctor moves to the wall and taps at a few buttons. Within a second a panel slides away and a tray slides out. Even from here I can tell what I’m looking at. The stuff’s like pure muscle covered in splotchy skin. Creep. It’s kinda disgusting seeing it in light as bright as this. For the first time in my life, I’m actually looking at it pretty clearly. It quivers a bit, like it’s reacting to Rivera’s presence. Even the doctor seems a bit hesitant as he approaches it.
“Got to be careful with this stuff,” he says as he picks up a needle from a nearby tray. “You remember what happened to Doctor Carson.”
The Security guy nods. “Whatever happened to him?”
“Well, we couldn’t get him out of the Creep. It wrapped him up so quick that he wasn’t able to breathe. Your brain really doesn’t do well without oxygen for more than a minute or two.”
“Damn. That sucks.”
“Yes. It’s not like this tower’s abundant with doctors.” He shakes his head, breathing in. “Ah well. That’s what happens when you get careless.” Rivera angles the needle toward the Creep, putting the sharp tip at the skin and plunging it inward.
It screams.
God. I don’t know how, but it lets loose this piercing screech that makes my teeth hurt. I can’t help but suck in my breath when it happens, then slap a hand across my mouth. For a moment Rivera pauses, looking around. Even the Security guy tenses up, raising his gun as he takes a step forward into the room. So, for the longest moment, I don’t breathe. I just sit and wait, watching as they look around. They’re trying to find out if they really heard what they think they heard.
Then the Creep screeches again, and Rivera’s eyes whip back to its surface. He quickly fills the syringe with, I don’t know how to put it, blood, I guess. It’s blackish purple, and it comes streaming out until the doctor’s got a full sample in that needle of his. He yanks backward as the Creep suddenly shivers, jolting toward him with a long, fleshy stalk it generates from its skin. Rivera jumps out of the way, just missing the blow, while the Security guy slams the button near the sliding panel. The sample vanishes back into the wall, and Rivera is left standing there, panting. He doubles over, heaving for a moment before he stands back up.
“See what I’m talking about?” he asks as he regains his composure. “It just takes one second of hesitation. You can’t play around with this stuff.”
Again the Security guy nods, but he’s pretty clearly freaked out, too. Hell, from where I am in the vent, all I want to do is scream. I keep a lid on it, though. Literally, I never take my hand off my mouth because I don’t want to risk losing it. I’m just seconds away from waking the dead if I don’t keep my mouth jammed. Still, I’m able to hold it together as I watch Rivera walk back to the patient’s side. The poor guy in the chair is starting to slam back and forth, but the restraints won’t let him loose, and every time he tries to talk, his voice is muffled by the strap around his mouth. I can’t help but think of Danny. Did he have to go through this?
Rivera yanks up the man’s sleeve. “Proceeding with the injection,” he says, leaning close to the guy’s arm. “Hold still, you idiot. This will go a lot worse for you if I mess this up.”
That doesn’t seem to do much to calm the guy down, and he keeps trying to scream as he struggles against his restraints. Rivera puts the tip of the needle to the guy’s upper arm, its edge sinking into the guy’s skin, and I watch as the purplish black liquid inside shoots into the prisoner’s body.
Then, for the first time since I’ve arrived here, someone sees me.
I can tell. He’s looking straight at me, his eyes wide and desperate as he tries to shout for help. He wants me to do something. He wants me to get out of the vent, take down Security, and free him from his restraints. I couldn’t do that if I wanted to. Instead, I have to watch as the whites of the man’s eyes suddenly surge with a blackish color, his body going rigid for a second as he just wails, and I can almost feel his pain from where I’m hiding. His screaming stops as Doctor Rivera pulls the needle from his arm. For a few minutes the man is stuck, his every muscle tensed up. Then he goes limp, the whites of his eyes returning as he collapses back into the chair.
I really wish I wouldn’t have seen this.
Recording Thirty-Four
I’m recording from my room. I don’t know what to say about what I’ve seen today. When I got back home, Mom was acting as if she didn’t care that I’d been forever. For the first time in my life, I paid attention to her kinda crazy behavior and just… I took notes. Mentally. She’s always done this thing where, like, even if the circumstances are bad, she finds a way to be deliriously happy. That’s how it always is with her. She’s either depressed and crazy, or ecstatic and a little less crazy.
Now, I can’t help but think of that woman Stella whenever I look at Mom.
I retreated to my room when I got home and spent the rest of the day there. As far as I can tell, nobody noticed I was gone. When I got back, I exited through the same grate I’d used to travel up to Floor 1. I didn’t notice anything unusual then. From what I saw, nobody’d even come back to the Cleanup closet. Guess it was a good day for the Cleanup crew. I’d guess any day where you don’t have to mop up vomit is a good day, though.