I barely remembered being put in my cage, having the door locked shut. But I did remember looking over to Lyric's crate, just beside Ash's. And I remember it being empty. Ash was in the back of his crate, his back to me, and I could see from the shakes in his shoulders that he was crying. That was it. I had failed. And then everything went black.
When I woke, I was in a different room. My back was pressed against a cold table, my wrists and ankles strapped down tight. Beside me was Willow, her eyes closed in what I could only hope was sleep. On my other side, in the same state, was Flint. Then I heard a groan from in front of me, and I strained my neck to see three more tables. Ash, Cedar, and Apple lay just as we did.
Slowly, Ash picked up his head and looked around. I watched his wrists strain against the holds, but they didn't give.
"What the…" he started, but I cut him off.
"Where's Lyric?" I asked. He looked up at me then, surprised at first, and then miserable.
"They took her," he told me. "They came in just before you were brought back. I don't know where, but they took her. Then more came in and sedated the rest of us. I don't know why." But I did.
"They're going to kill us," I said. He looked at me again, his eyebrows raised this time. "That's why they wanted Lyric. For one final test…to get a final assessment of what we can do." I felt the tears burning at the back of my eyes. "But…she should be with us now. Unless…"
"Don't think like that," Ash told me. "That's not true. They wouldn't kill her without killing the rest of us fist. Especially if they wanted her for the final assessment, she's obviously better somehow. They…they'd keep her around. They wouldn't…not her first. It wouldn't make sense." He was trying to sound strong for me, but his voice wavered slightly. He swallowed hard.
Slowly, the others began waking up. They were confused at first, and I tried to soothe their worries as best I could. It was obvious to everyone what was going on, though, and I couldn't deny it.
Just then the door opened and the blonde girl from before walked in. She gave me a single glare, then turned straight to her notes. It was obvious I wouldn't be pulling any more tricks over on this one.
"Experiments seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve, and thirteen," she read carefully. "The six of you are being relocated to another facility as a result of difficult behavior, but possible advances in the field of hybrid experimentation."
"What?" I demanded. This was not what she told me before, not in the slightest. We were supposed to be killed, retired because we were old experiments. Now we were possible advances? But instead of an answer the blonde white coat simply gave me another glare.
"Loading for departure will begin momentarily," she concluded, then turned on her heel and started towards the door again.
"Hold on a minute, hold on a minute," I demanded, my wrists straining so badly the belts were cutting into my skin. "What happened to Lyric? What happened to my sister?" I screeched. The white coat paused at the door, as if considering answering me, then took a deep breath and walked straight out the door.
And I lost it.
Shrieking at the top of my lungs, I demanded to know what they did with my sister. I needed to know. Had she done so well on the assessment they decided to let us live? Had she failed and they were planning on keeping us around until another test could be prepared? Was she still alive?
Eventually the door opened again and I paused in my screams. Standing at the door was the dark haired white coat, his tan skin completely unmarked from our fight earlier. Ordering other white coats, he began moving us out of the room, still connected to the metal tables. I glared at him as I passed, willing him to tell me anything and everything that he knew about Lyric. He ignored me, though, and then I was through the door.
We were rolled down a few different hallways, bringing us closer and closer to the exit I always desperately wanted to reach. Not like this, though. I never wanted to reach it like this.
There was only a single hallway left to cover when we passed the open door, and I turned my head just in time to see inside. And my insides turned to ice. Just inside the room, laid out on a metal table like my own, was Lyric. Her skin was ashen pale, her lips nearly white. Her eyes were closed. And a white coat was pulling a white sheet over her head.
She was dead.