August 9, 2010.
A/N: Greetings, Solacers :)
We've almost hit 50 reviews, people - I just realised :D That's quite exciting, in my opinion :P
Anyway, hope everyone had a great week. Here's the next update!
Searching for Solace
- SIXTEEN -
March 17 – 18:41
"How's your hand?"
"Fucking cains."
"At least you can still feel it. It's better than losing it."
"True," Morgan conceded. "Unless it turns purple and drops off tomorrow."
"The power of positive thinking," Amy replied, "is a wonderful thing."
She dished up a slice of McCain lasagne, colouring the plates with yellow corn, green peas and orange carrots. Across the bench, Morgan wasn't looking so good. Her face was pale and drawn; every time she moved her damaged fingers she winced.
"Try not to focus on the pain," Amy advised, adding the final touch to the first home-made dinner Morgan had eaten since the invasion: mashed potato. She grabbed the tomato sauce from the pantry. "Take some Panadol and be careful not to use your bad hand. Here, take some of these." She indicated to the plates.
"You mean one," Morgan replied gloomily, raising her sore hand pointedly, and one eyebrow incredulously. Amy laughed sheepishly. God, she could be so scatterbrained sometimes. It was extremely embarrassing.
"Take this one," she said hastily, offering one of the plates, and taking two herself. "Guys, dinner!"
Dinner was a quiet affair. With Morgan uncharacteristically down, Daniel his usual grouchy self, Matt and Nick silent, Brody distant, and Emma absent, Amy wasn't sure whether she should even bother trying to make friendly conversation. It seemed everyone was in their own world tonight. She decided not to try and drag them out.
March 17 – 19:13
Doing the dishes, Amy realised that she'd never felt so mature for her meagre sixteen years. She'd never been particularly resourceful; she'd never been the one to show initiative. Hannah had always been much more organised, Jack more intelligent. Amy was just the not-so-special one in the middle. And here she was now, practically running a household by herself. Hell, she'd even just cooked dinner. If Hannah were there, she'd have owed someone big bucks.
Amy's hands stopped scrubbing. Her eyes sobered; her smile faded. Hannah…
The last time her dad had called was four days ago. Her mobile was still plugged into the charger; she refused to remove it, just in case there was something wrong with the battery. Any moment she got to hear her mother's voice was more precious than a chest of treasure; she wouldn't risk getting cut-off when their conversations were too few. They were already far too short.
She didn't notice the water growing cold around her still hands; she was miles away. Amy wondered soberly whether they believed it yet. That Hannah was truly gone. Last she'd heard even Jack hadn't been able to get through to them…
The front door burst open. Amy jumped so violently she smacked her hand against the tap. Tears sprang to her eyes; she bit back a foul curse and wrenched her hands from the lukewarm water, whipping around to face the newcomer, soap-sudded fingers searching frantically for her pendant.
"Chill," Emma snapped, striding through without so much as a glance. "It's just me."
"You could give us some warning," Amy called irritably after her, caressing her throbbing hand now that the threat of danger had passed. Holy crap, it hurt.
"You should always be on your guard," Emma retorted snarkily. She disappeared down the hall. Amy dropped the tea towel and followed.
"Where've you been?" she asked, trying not to sound demanding. Emma would only flare up and bite back if she felt pressured. She'd been learning the hard way ever since they'd met.
"Get off my back, Marshall," Emma warned. Her corner of the room was alarmingly neat. None of them had very many personal belongings, but it was almost like her space had been sterilised, it was so clean. Emma reached and yanked a jacket out of her small bag of clothes.
"You're going again?" Amy could hardly believe it. "What the hell, Emma?"
"Seriously, I'm not in the mood," Emma growled. "Go… clean, or something."
Pulling her arms roughly through the sleeves, she strode back down the hall, Amy trotting at her heels like a lost puppy.
"Wait!" she called, as Emma opened the door again. "Where are you going?"
"Where the fuck do you think, dipshit?" Emma exploded. "To do something productive with my short time on this waste of a fucking planet! I'm going back to the goddamn hospital. Shit's actually happening there, dumbass!"
The door slammed boomingly behind her.
March 17 – 19:26
"I can't believe recovering from a Chimera fight isn't productive enough for her," Morgan muttered angrily, glaring at an inoffensive Chimera bobbing complacently nearby. The evening was thick around them; dusk was heavy today. It was getting harder to see as the sun sank further behind the city.
"I can't believe we're stalking that bitch to the hospital," Daniel growled contemptuously. "This is pathetic."
"Emma said something's happening there," Amy said defensively.
"And if Emma told you to jump off a cliff, would you?" Daniel retorted childishly. Amy chose not to reply; she didn't really like Daniel, if they were being completely honest. But then, she supposed that being friends mattered less than surviving. As long as they all kept living, they didn't have to like each other.
They were met by a pleasant blast of warm air as the doors slid open. It was lively and busy inside, but in a way that still felt organised; under control. There were people everywhere. The teenagers set off without examining anyone or anything, their eyes sharp for a glimpse of Emma. They made it – disappointingly and discouragingly – all the way to the quiet third floor before anyone spotted anything odd.
"There's a light on," Brody muttered, nodding surreptitiously at the store room just ahead. They approached the door and crowded around, peering through the little glass window. The room beyond was small and crammed with metal shelving. An assortment of medical products was organised into labelled tubs. In the corner was a small refrigerator with its glass door open. A medical practitioner of some sort knelt in front of it, searching through the hundreds of tiny vials for something.
"What's he looking for?" Morgan whispered to herself. Suspicion was heavy in her voice, but she stopped herself short. He was a doctor. It wasn't abnormal for him to be looking through the vaccinations fridge. Her neck warmed faintly with sheepishness.
There was an echoing 'ding!' from down the corridor and they all wheeled in alarm. The elevator doors slid open smoothly, revealing several white-coated people around a stretcher-bed. Amy caught Morgan's panic-stricken face. They looked extremely shifty, loitering around the store room.
"Down here." Daniel had streaked ahead and was opening the door to a new room. Tossing up whether it would be wiser to walk casually, like there was absolutely nothing suspicious about their being in the hallway, or simply making a mad dash to avoid trouble, Amy followed the others. Morgan hesitated for a second, then trailed quickly after them.
That tiny pause was the key to their future.
As Morgan whirled into the room and they shut the door over, the stretcher-bed passed by, and she caught a fragment of a glimpse of it before the door shut completely. She gasped.
"What?" Daniel demanded, immediately alarmed.
"It's that boy!" Morgan said in a hushed voice. "The one from the x-ray!"
She reached for the handle before anyone else could speak, pulling the door open again.
"Wait, Morg–" But, impulsive as she was, Morgan had already slipped out and disappeared.
"Go with her," Brody commanded a second later, pulling the door wider to push Daniel into the corridor. He turned to protest, but Brody shut the door in his face, turning back to the rest. "Right. We wait thirty seconds, then you–" he spoke directly to Amy "–go and check if that doctor is still in the storeroom. If it's clear, signal back to us. If not…"
"Got it," Amy replied. He didn't need to elaborate. If there were people inside, bail. "What about Emma?"
Brody shrugged. "She'll be fine. And too bad if she's not. Ready?"
Amy nodded; he pulled the door open a crack, and she slipped out into the corridor like a shadow.
March 17 – 19:37
"Excuse me!" Morgan called, thinking of a plan as she went. Footsteps echoed behind her; a second later, Daniel was glowering next to her. She shot him a bemused look and turned back around when an older voice answered, "Yes?"
The stretcher-bed had come to a halt ahead, and the two doctors were looking at her expectantly, a little suspiciously. She walked up to the bed, wondering what to say next without blowing it.
"I know him," she said, pointing at the pale-faced boy in the bed. "That's Andy. He's my cousin's friend." The lie became easier the more she spoke it. Thank God she'd remembered the kid's name. "Sorry, I'm just wondering–" she attempted to make her voice as innocently curious as possible "–is he okay?"
The doctors glanced at each other, and back at her. She wondered what they'd just shared – what they'd communicated wordlessly; she wanted to know what it was. What they were thinking. What was hidden behind those passive expressions? Was it sinister?
"He's very unwell," one doctor replied grimly. "We're doing our best for him."
"Oh," Morgan replied, keeping up her act. She wondered if she was going overboard; she didn't want to seem too childish. "Okay. Thanks. I hope he gets better soon. Sorry to bother you."
"No worries," the other doctor replied. With a short nod at the two teens, they wheeled the boy away. As soon as they were out of earshot, Daniel rounded on Morgan.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Shh!" Morgan snapped. "Shut up, you retard!" She chewed her lip for a second. How long should she give them before following? She didn't want to walk around the corner and have them spot her. It would be blatantly obvious they hadn't just happened to bump into the stretcher before. A door clicked shut somewhere further down. Morgan sighed.
"What the f–?"
"I want to know what's happening to him," Morgan snapped across him.
Daniel looked bewildered. "You're fucking obsessed. Let it go; he's just some kid."
But Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was about to happen. It was bothering her; she was restless and fidgety. She wanted to move; standing here doing nothing was almost excruciating. They could be missing something important.
With a fleeting glance at Daniel, Morgan started up the hall again. She heard him curse under his breath behind her, then muffled footsteps as he hurried to catch her up. She paused at the corner, taking a breath before peeking slowly around. Daniel's form loomed above her.
"You're fucking mental."
"Shh!" she hissed, glaring up at him. His eyes glowered down in return. Morgan looked back around, just in time to spot the doctors wheel the last of the stretcher though a door. It snapped shut behind them of its own accord.
"Now what?" Daniel practically sneered.
"You wanna go back to the others and wait for me there?" Morgan shot back. "'Cause you're seriously pissing me off right now."
He gave a self-satisfied smirk. She rolled her eyes, understanding at last how Mackenzie could have loathed this troublesome human being for so many years. He was just so damned… irritating. Daniel shrugged lazily, his unruly brown hair falling in his eyes.
"Right. Well shut up and follow, or run back to Brody. They're your options."
Without another word, Morgan stalked off towards the room. She slowed upon nearing it, and stopped to peek in cautiously through the thin strip of glass in the middle of the door. Through the small window she glanced a room identical to Max and Terry's, containing several resting teenagers. The closest to the door was Andy. The two doctors were busy moving around him, hardly even looking at the boy between them.
As Morgan watched, one lifted a plastic syringe into the air, testing it with a sharp flick. Liquid spurted from the tip. He glanced at the other, who nodded. The doctor with the needle approached the side of sleeping Andy, and with a heavy sigh, murmured something indecipherable before upturning his arm. He lowered the syringe to the skin, and Morgan clenched her eyes shut, turning her head away, feeling suddenly nauseous. Needles; her phobia.
"Sick," Daniel muttered absently above her, impressed.
"You're sick," Morgan scowled, turning her gaze back to the window. The doctors had finished with Andy and were moving to the side of the next bed. They gave each patient the an injection. Morgan chewed her lip.
"What do you think it is?" she asked Daniel, in spite of being irritated with him. She felt him shrug above her.
"Fucked if I know."
"Helpful," she muttered sarcastically. "Shit!"
They leaped back from the door as the doctors suddenly appeared on the other side, but it was far too late. They'd most definitely been seen, and now the door opened to reveal two pairs of narrowed, suspicious eyes.
Morgan's stomach fell away.
CULTURE NOTE
Cains - hurts a heck of a lot.
McCain - I have no idea how long they've been around, but they're well-known for making frozen dishes. Pizza and pasta, mostly :)
Fucked if I know - lol everyone says this. It's just... we have a lovely way with words XD;
Sorry about the lack of Australian culture in recent chapters, guys. I'll make more of an effort to write more Aussie stuff into upcoming chapters :)
A/N: Oh dear. Morgan just had to go and put her foot in it, didn't she? Curiosity did kill the cat, as they say... Will our heroes be able to get out of this predictably sticky situation? And what will the others find in their explorations? Read on to find out :)
Thanks for reading. If you feel like it, I'd love a review :3
Love,
Cherrie xx