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Chapter 22: If
Gazzy ran. He ran like hell – there was really no other way to describe it. His feet pounded the ground, he literally flew over the rocks and puddles in the parking lot, and before he knew it, he was speeding down the middle of 31st Street.
Horns blared, and there was a skidding noise, followed by a loud crunch, and Gazzy winced. His heart told him to stop. But he listened to his head, which only told him one word: away. Away from that horrible woman, or should we say Eraser.
The minute she had smiled at Gazzy, her fangs enlarged and fur sprouted on her arms and neck. That's when Gazzy knew he had to bust out of there… pronto.
But his valiant run for victory did not last long. In fact, it ended with a bang… or rather, a thump, as the Gasman ran smack into a furry chest of an Eraser.
This, folks, is where we say Oh, crap.
The Eraser dragged Gazzy into a dark alley with ease, and covered him in a brown bag. In a perfectly normal, risk-free situation, the Gasman would have noted the utter cliché-ness of this situation, but as it was, the Gasman did not even have time to panic. As the bag was brought down over his head, he smelled something sickly sweet, and was out like a light within mere seconds.
. . .
The Gasman woke to a whitecoat's face smiling down at him.
Her smile widened as the Gasman rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
"Good morning, Gregory."
"Mom?"
. . .
The next few hours went by like a blur. The Gasman remembered being wheeled around a large building on a cot, but this building was different from the School, or any of the other Itex buildings he'd ever been in. Gazzy could not quite put his finger on it. It might have simply been the power that radiated from the building, like a noxious gas. Every whitecoat, every cage, every Itex logo oozed power and control. The Gasman found it rather frightening.
A faceless whitecoat wheeled the Gasman's cot through the building, stopping every once in awhile to examine a test tube, have a brief word with another whitecoat, or check in on some sort of grotesque specimen that Gazzy really didn't care to describe. At one point, they entered a room that looked as if the walls were made of large glass fish tanks. But rather than containing innocent little goldfish, the containers held grotesque abominations of nature. Some disturbing creature that had the head of a cat, with feathers and an alligator tail protruding from its rear… a fetus the size of a full-grown adult with sick mutations… a child with tentacles rather than limbs… the Gasman wanted to retch. And he prided himself in having a very strong stomach.
The thought of seeing his mother constantly nagged on his mind, though. Why was she here? Was she the leader of this abject place? Could she help him?
The very last question lingered, although deep down, he truly knew the answer.
No.
His mother could not help him out of this situation.
She was the one who had brought him into it in the first place.
. . .
Finally, Dr. Evelyn Castillo made reappearance.
The Gasman was receiving a lovely tour through rooms full of failed experiments courtesy of the unsmiling whitecoat. Dr. Castillo swept into the room, her bleach-white lab coat billowing behind her.
"Thank you, Gail. You are dismissed," she told the whitecoat, shooing her away with a wave of her hand. The unsmiling whitecoat gave a cursory nod, and hurried out of the room as if one of the horrible creatures in the cage was chasing her.
Dr. Castillo rolled her eyes. "I really do need to get myself some better workers, don't you agree, darling?"
The Gasman narrowed his eyes.
"I need workers that are… what is the word I'm looking for? Committed. Yes. Committed. My scientists and researchers need to be dedicated and committed to their work. But they also need to be willing and enthusiastic, do they not, Gregory?"
Gazzy simply stared at her.
"That is why I brought you here today, Gregory. I need both workers and subjects who are truly dedicated and who have the potential to be great. You are all of these things, and more. You are a human-avian hybrid, a subject that I simply long to do more testing on. You are a hard worker. You are committed to your work. You could do great things, you know. All you have to do is get some connections."
"No."
Dr. Castillo acted as if she didn't even hear him. "My goal is to help you do that. Max and her Flock are holding you back, Gregory. Think of all you could do if you were released from the constant burden of having to deal with Angel's unstableness, Nudge's constant chatter, Iggy's blindness, Fang's emotions, Max's incompetence as a leader. Think of the great leader you could be, Gregory. Max is blinded by her love of power. When is the last time she has let you help with making a decision? When is the last time she has asked for your opinion? When is the last time she has listened to you?"
The Gasman racked his brain for an answer to these questions. But he simply could not find one.
"I value your opinion, Gregory. I know that you have the potential to help Itex make huge advances in our studies of genetic engineering. All you have to do is be willing to help."
"No."
"Gregory. You are not thinking this through all the way. You, too, are blinded by your love – your love of the Flock. That love blinds you to everything that is wrong with the Flock and your lifestyle. Do you know that just two weeks ago was Thanksgiving? Do you remember your Thanksgiving with Anne? It was amazing, was it not? And let me guess – you've never had another Thanksgiving like it. That was the only time the Flock has even celebrated Thanksgiving, wasn't it?"
The Gasman gave a tiny nod.
"Help us, and you'll get to live with your father and I. We could be a family. No little sister to worry about, no Max to listen to. Just the three of us. How wonderful would that be?"
Gazzy kept his mouth shut. If she was trying to provoke an answer out of him, she wasn't going to get one.
"Gregory, we need your help. Think about all the good that would come out of it. You would be relieved from the burden of the Flock. You would have the privilege of helping us make great scientific advances. You would have a family. So what's your final decision?"
"No."
The Gasman had expected Dr. Castillo to be angry, but she just shrugged.
"Well, then. Let me show you something that will definitely change your mind."
Yes, this is short. Yes, it was probably crap. My apologies. Let's just say that it was very, very late when I wrote this.
This was posted for Bookaholic711's Project PULL. Check it out.
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