10.
"Let's go," he grunted, opening Nudge's cage. She exited the cramped space and stepped out into the cargo section of the jet. Though the open space was relieving, the white coat's grip on her arm was uncomfortable as he dragged her to the front end of the jet. "I have subject thirteen," he spoke into a radio attached to his belt. The radio buzzed for a moment, then went silent again.
"Good. Bring it to the examination room immediately." The voice came from the radio.
It. She was an it.
Nudge looked back to where Jake was still caged. A white coat stood next to the cage, staring down at Jake. Jake was staring back. Reading his thoughts, Nudge thought.
The white coat next to Nudge pushed her through a now-open door in front of them. She stumbled through, then walked quickly in front of the white coat as he shoved her down the hallway of the School. Nudge suddenly wished they'd left her in the cage. At least there she could talk to Jake.
But maybe he was one of them. Maybe she shouldn't have said any of what she'd said. Maybe he was just acting nice and cool so she'd tell him everything and he could turn on her when the white coats (experimentals) needed him to.
The white coat opened the door that now sat in front of Nudge, then pushed her through it. She fell forward, landing in a cold metal chair. "Sit," he grunted, and she did. The lights were dim, and Nudge's chair was the only thing in the room. There were no windows. Although, there weren't any windows in the rest of the School, either, Nudge reminisced. She sat in that chair for what seemed to be hours, the white coat standing behind her, breathing down her neck. She knew why she was at the School, but so far, it still didn't make much sense.
The white coat took a clipboard from his pocket (big pockets, she thought) and started writing. He began writing quickly, most likely taking notes on what Nudge was doing. Why? She had no idea. It wasn't like she was doing anything special.
The radio on his belt buzzed and hummed every once in a while, and voices occasionally came through. "Code 756H in room 357D," and "Code 567D in room 19." She'd never heard these terms and didn't know where the rooms were, so the conversations on the radio meant nothing. She continued listening anyway. "Code 3," one voice said, and Nudge heard a blood-curtling scream in the background. She winced, and the experimental scrawled something a little quicker, then his writing slowed once more.
And Nudge couldn't help thinking, What now?