Chapter 3

See chapter one for disclaimers and similar.  Feedback appreciated.  Enjoy!

The Centre, 1982

            "Bobby, this is Emma."

            Bobby rose quickly from his bed, startled, clearing his throat awkwardly and shuffled his feet.  Dr. Raines stood between Bobby and a dark haired, dark eyed rail of a girl who was eyeing him suspiciously.  There was a nasty cut under her left eye which looked fresh.  Although she was wearing a shapeless, remarkably ugly grey dress (Centre issue, he assumed), he could tell she was about his age.  She stood nearly as tall as he did, and had an extremely unfortunate haircut.

            "Emma will be involved in your next SIM," Dr. Raines said after a few moments of silence from Bobby.  They regarded each other impassively, appraisingly.

            "Well, Bobby, aren't you going to say hello?"  Raines' voice was disturbingly, unnaturally pleasant; it made Bobby's skin crawl.  He also thought he could detect a slight, breathy wheeze in the older man's words.  Good.  Maybe the bastard's getting emphysema.  Fucking human ash tray.

            "Hello," Bobby said sullenly.  Emma said nothing.  Raines did not prompt her. Silence.  Bewildering.  Raines and the girl stood, silent, watching Bobby.  After what seemed like forever, Raines smiled a horrible smile at Bobby – false, and vaguely suggestive.  Bobby was privately mortified.

            "Come, Emma," Raines said, his hand at her side, his thin fingers pressing into her waist as he turned her away and back towards the cell door.  Bobby could not say why he found this so disturbing, but he found it extremely hard to watch.

            Emma looked back at Bobby as she reached the door, straining to turn around and see over Raines' arm.  Bobby felt as though he had been punched in the stomach.  He wanted to rip her away from Raines.  He wanted to KILL Raines for touching her.  He wanted to kill himself so he wouldn't have to watch.  Anything to stop the awful, constricting feeling her quiet, dark, desperate eyes inspired in him.

            "The SIM will begin tonight.  I will return for you then."  Raines did not turn around as he spoke.  The door slid closed behind him with a whoosh.  Bobby sat down on his bed, exhaling heavily.  Fucking bizarre.  Night SIMs were rare. Raines got weirder and more objectionable every day.  And Emma…he didn't know what to make of her.

            "Emma."

            Bobby jumped up off the bed with a start, his eyes wide, scanning his tiny cell for the owner of the voice which had interrupted his thoughts.  The air vent.  What the fuck.

            Gathering his courage, he stood on his bed to peer into the vent.  He was no stranger to the ventilation system; he had had many nocturnal adventures in the months he had spent in the Centre.  He had explored the cell block and seen lots of kids through the vents, some his age, some younger, but he had not spoken to any of them.  They all seemed half-dead, stupid, sitting as docilely as the rabbits in the SIM lab.  He had never encountered anyone else in the vents.  In fact, he had not spoken to anyone but Raines in months.

            A boy, about his age judging by his size, cowered just beyond the light which filtered in from Bobby's cell.

            "Who are you?"  Bobby asked cautiously.  No response.  "What about Emma?"

Something was not quite right about the boy.

            "What are you, retarded or something?"

It was quite unnerving.  All Bobby could see was the light glinting off the boy's eyes.

            "You don't start talking I'm coming in there to get you."  Bobby winced.  No matter how much Raines tried to coach him into eliminating it, his Midwestern accent always crept back into his voice when he was angry.  He couldn't talk like that and not think of Lyle Bowman.  The boy, in the meantime, demonstrated that he could at least understand Bobby, as he turned around on all fours, amazingly fast, monkey-like, silently moving back through the vent.  Bobby was impressed – it had taken him months to learn how not to make noise in the hollow, echoing vents, and he still had to go slowly.

            Raines would be back in a few hours.  Fuck.  Bobby weighed his options for a split second before removing the vent cover and hoisting himself up and inside in one fluid, practiced motion.  He was not about to let the only human contact he had had in months (Raines definitely did not count – man was a fucking vampire) just disappear into the ventilation system.  SIMs be damned.  He needed answers.