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Chapter 7 – The school
Max POV
It was a ball with a little red light on it that was flashing very fast. It landed right next to my left foot. I froze, so did Fang. But only for a second because then the light stopped flashing and it exploded...
Time traveled in slow motion. Every change in my world at that moment was distinguishable. From the pieces of metal covering the bomb shattering, to way the carpet lifted and sunk as Fang ran towards me, tackling me as fire erupted from the exploding device, the impact pushing us up and back towards the lounge room wall. I still watched the device even through the bright yellow flames. Well, that was before Fang and I collided with the wall. He took most of the hit because he had flipped me around so he would be the first to hit it as we flew through the air. I remembered falling to the ground, Fang's arms around my waist holding me tight, and then... nothing.
I woke against freezing cold metal. The place I was now somehow familiar. I snapped my closed eyes open to look at my surroundings, sitting up as I did so. But as I sat up I hit my head, making the metal above me ring the sound reverberating either off clean metal tables or blinding white walls, around the room.
I froze. I knew this place. I had been here before. Well, not in this particular room, but others like it.
It brought back memories. Memories of needles with different colored liquids being pushed into my skin.
Memories of running through confusing mazes as bursts electricity burned my feet if I stopped for breath or rest.
Fighting as men attacked me, testing my strength and ability that the drugs had induced.
I remembered the feeling of strength, and the feeling of speed and power from the drugs that had long since been erased from my system.
I remembered being watched. Watched through glass walls or double sided mirrors by Jeb or other mad scientist, that laughed at my pain, chatting about how well deserved my suffering was for the "trouble" I had caused to them.
All of it made me see red. I hated this place. Hated all of it. Every metal utensil, every plastic blue nightgown, every smell of antiseptically clean tools or floors. Every person who caused me pain. Every person who contributed to Ari's fear. Ari's pain. Ari's DEATH.
The metal that surrounded me was actually a cage. It was small, no bigger than one used to house dogs when at a vets surgery.
I heard I small noise to my right. When I turned to look I was faced with, just passed the bars to another's cage, a slumped form against the metal floor, the person was larger, and bigger set than myself, so I amused it was a boy, and had black shaggy hair.
Realisation hit me like waves crashing onto a rocky shore. It was Fang. The boy in the cage next to my own, was Fang.
He was covered in cuts and bruises. His already bruised eye was swollen shut once again and, what looked like, glass was stuck into one particularly nasty looking sore.
He looked like he had just been blown up... Oh. That's right. That's because he just was. Well, perhaps a few hours ago now.
Then I thought struck me. He was here. At the school. And it was my fault. My fault he was here. A place best described as hell. Worst, perhaps.
Tears slowly spilled from my eyes to run down my face. I shuffled over to sit against the cold bars, I was barely able to stick my arm through the bar I reached for Fang's cage. My fingertips slipped through one bar, but were unable to even come within tow feet of Fang's unconscious body.
I found it strange that they would give me a cage with bars wide enough for my arms, let alone my hands, to slip through. Perhaps they have become softer. I thought. I looked at the set of surgical knives through teary eyes, one had scarlet blood at it's tip. Nope. No softer.
Fang's body stirred. And I looked back to him too see his head rise slowly, shaking slightly. I wasn't shore weather the shaking was from fear, rage or cold. As his eyes met mine I could see clear anger, not followed by the rest of his features. Shaking from anger.
"I am sorry." I whispered, basically silently to him. His eyes looked confused for a moment. "I-i-it is my f-f-fault you're here. In th-th-this, this hell hole." I struggled for straight words as my tears became heavier. God I am such a cry baby.
Fang just shook his head, making his bans swing slightly away from his forehead. "Not your fault. The school?" Fang questioned in his few-words-as-possible way.
"Yeah, the school." I replied brokenly. "But it is my fault. If I wasn't so messed up, you wouldn't have been at my house when the bomb went off and, in turn, wouldn't be here." I still cried.
"Better that I am here with you, rather then you being here by yourself." I shook my head. Fang shuffled to the edge of the crate reaching his arm through the bars up to his elbow, his upper arm too large to fit through further. I reached my arm over to his and took his hand. I dipped my head onto my knees and began to shake with sobs as I touched his frozen fingers.
All my fault. All my fault.
"Shh. Shh. It's okay. I'm okay." Fang cooed, gripping my hand tightly. We sat there for a long while. Me shaking with sobs. Fang gripping my hand, caressing it gently with his thumb.
Eventually I regained my self-control enough to sit up and wipe away stray tears with one hand. I breathed heavy, but remaining strong.
"Your right." I said. I couldn't bear to look at his face, but I could tell he was confused as to what he was right about. "It is better that your here to be with me. But, it still isn't fair that you are. You'll be turned into a lab rat like I was," Shook my head, "Like I am. They'll test you. Torture you. Pump you full of drugs. Possible kill you. I am sorry for that."
"It isn't fair if your here either. Don't worry about me, if you can do it, I can do it." He replied calm and steady. He was like a mountain, unmovable.
Later that – what I assumed was – evening, a man in a white coat came in. When I was young, I called them white coats, not understanding what a scientist was. The man came in plastic containers of food. They had colored dots on their lids. I remembered what it meant to be fed at the school. It meant tests. They colour co-ordinated the food to the test. So, well, you don't chuck up on the clothes from too much or too little food during certain tests.
He opened a latch and a tiny segment of my metal cage open outward so he was barely able to push the food through to me.
"Happy eating." He sneered with – what I can only assume HE thought was – a ruthless grin.
He did the same for Fang before departing the room. I looked down at my plastic container and saw the god awful gruel that all experiments were required to be fed. Here at the school, they had protean down to a science. Only giving the receiver the bear minimum amount of calories, fats, carbs and sugars for there test or survival.
On the clear lid was stuck a red sticker dot.
If my memory served me well, and the school hadn't altered it's predictable patterns, then I was in for simple stamina and muscle endurance tests. Running on treadmills, swimming in high, unpredictable waters, testing the endurance of my muscles with sensors as I participate their exercises. After, of course, being jabbed with needles filled with the drugs I would be testing.
"I got red. Meaning stamina and muscle endurance tests. What about you?" I asked Fang.
He looked down at his bowl. It was considerably smaller than mine and looked more water based. "Umm. Blue." He answered quietly.
My blood froze. No. No no no no no. They wouldn't give him that on his first day. Would they? No, it was cruel even for the white coats. I started to breath heavily again.
Wait! My brain thought. He could have light blue not dark. Which would mean blood tests and conservation. Easy. Simple. Well, if his system reacted well to the drugs... if they didn't... But even then that is better!
"Light blue or dark?" I tried to sound less anguish than I was about his answer.
"Umm... dark?" he held it up for me.
It was dark blue.
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