I know updates have been really spotty for this story, and I know I said it would be because of my updating system, but really it isn't.
I have the ideas and everything, but I'm slow with updates because I haven't been receiving enough feedback for me to think people are actually interested. And I've been really busy with my other stories and ideas that I've kind of just let this one hang for a bit.
But throughout most of August and all of September, I will work on DS more and make sure it's completed by Halloween. Yes, that is my goal.
In total, DS should have 12-15 chapters, with an epilogue. I plan on doing a sequel, small review amount or not.
The ending chapters should be longer than these ones now though.
That's all I have to say on that. I've been working on this chapter for a while so the timeline might be a little spotty. Sorry.
For the next two days I'm kept in the hospital like room, no trips to the interrogation room included. At one point they did let Leo visit, because I think They pitied us.
Leo's visit was short.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his tone not necessarily concerned or worried, but more curious.
I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Just fine."
With sensitive fingers, he touched the IV plugged into my arm, and his lips twitched at the corners. "Still hopping you up on drugs, I see," he said with a sarcastic bite to his words. "Idoits be damned."
I gave a weak chuckle, my eyes darting to Them, who watched our interaction intently through the glass window. They were two gray-faced, wrinkled women in too-large labcoats with observant clipboards in their hands. They looked sleepy, as do all the others.
The Government keeps Them on drugs, too, I think.
Leo waited and stared sightlessly at where his hand was on my IV. I could tell by the tense muscles in his arms he was tempted to yank it. To prove something to Them; or, was just looking for a little trouble to see what happens.
"Leo?" I said, and he cocked his head, not giving a reply. I continued. "The drugs, they're meant to kill us, aren't they?"
He let go of my cord, tilted his head further to the beep-beep-beep of my heart monitor. He, unlike when I first realized it, didn't look alarmed at the fast beeps of it.
"Not kill us," Leo drawled finally. "But slow us. Destroy us inside and out. They don't like that they came up with us first, therefore we are the weaker versions, unfit for Their plans."
"What will They do when we are destroyed?" I asked, swallowing thickly. But that' was the thing; I didn't feel afraid. I felt strong, despite the headaches. I felt okay-nothing They were doing is working yet.
The big boss wouldn't be pleased to hear that.
Leo chuckled darkly, slowly making his way to the door by running his hand on the length of my hospital cot. "You don't need to worry about that," he says simply, sounding as unafraid as I feel. "We're the better versions. Stronger, built for more. Nearly indestructible."
"What's that mean?"
He froze, his hand stopping on the doorknob.
"It means we're the good ones."
{~~~~~~~~~~}
The day They let me return to my cell, with Leo lazily waiting on his cot, I faint onto mine in relief, my muscles sore, wrists aching. I feel a little funny, but not in the hung over way that alert me that-maybe, somehow-the drugs finally are doing something to me. But funny in a way that an area behind my neck ached.
But, aching or not, it doesn't hurt. I don't moan in pain over it, or flinch when it comes, like the headaches. I just let it be.
By now, Leo knows me too well. He doesn't greet me when I come, doesn't talk. And neither do I. I bury my face in the dirty, worn sheets of my cot, thinking about his words from his visit.
Leave it to Leo to be so vague about something so huge. In a way, that makes me hate him, but also makes me find him incredibly clever. Not giving out any outright information. Avoiding punishment that way.
But his description on why we aren't defective against the drugs sends an unwilling chill down my spine. But, it also fills me to the brim with relief. That way, no matter what drugs our bodies are forced to feed on, Adam, Bree, Leo, and I will be safe. And they are my team. If they aren't safe, that means I failed them, and him.
Not that my brain is clear on exactly who him is. Not yet, anyway.
We're the good ones. Is there more than one kind of us? Our production codes-does this mean we are a type of machinery?
No, this idea is immediately rejected as I pinch my arm-made of flesh, blood, and bones. I hear my heart, beat under my ribcage. I am human, but more than that as well. But if I am more than what I am, what does that truly make me?
Leo knows, but he isn't what I am-what Adam, Bree, and I are. But he can undergo the same drugs as we, and still remain strong. Hell, maybe even stronger. He isn't quite human either, but not what They think he is. He is simply a partner, a teammate.
But dammit it all if he ever lets Them know that.
Because I know this, I feel a bit guilty when I see Leo blindly looking up at the ceiling. He was punished simply for being involved, even when They weren't even focusing on him. They are commanded to focus on us - the bionics.
Leo begins pacing as I sit up. Before they transferred me to the infirmary-like place, it wasn't a habit that he had. I suppose it could have been something he began doing in my absence, but it seems so unlike him. Pacing is something people do when they have nerves or feel anxious about something; it's hard for me to think of Leo feeling anything but superiority.
"You know, this is really getting ridiculous," Leo states drily. His voice is void of emotion, but it shows clearly in the way his pacing speeds up a little, his bony frame turning sharply to switch directions. "I know they want to do something; it's my thing - knowing stuff, you know? But we've been here a little over a month, all this suspense crap is really starting to annoy me."
This is the first time I've ever seen Leo blow up before, and I'm at a loss of what to do. It never occurred to me that all of this would make him explode much like I wanted to at times, and it's possible that my freak-out had been the last straw. And to take all of this -different emotions, being taken away by someone you love, your family, being used as a lab rat - is hard enough to endure even without missing one of your sentences.
It seems like the perfect time to bring up the odd voices I am compelled to listen to, but I didn't know how.
"Then, why don't we do something?" I ask, looking at him.
Leo stops. For a beat he's so still that his chest barely rises as he breathes. Then, he laughs. Like actually, gut-hurting, side-aching laughter. The sound is so sudden and loud and unexpected, I nearly topple over.
"What did you have in mind?" he asks, his voice fading into a mass of chuckles.
"We need to see Bree again," I say seriously.
{~~~~~~~~~~}
Leo claims to never have snuck out before the first time we did together, but I know that couldn't be true. He's too good at mapping the whole place, being able to scope out the directions we need to go and the halls we had to sneak down better than I ever could even with the plus of sight.
The walk to where they keep Bree feels shorter than before. I tell myself it's because I feel more familiar was sneaking around, and am not gawking at everything I pass anymore.
The door swings open without a sound other than the slight click it makes when Leo unlocks it. We step inside and close to the door, sealing us in.
Bree still lays, IVs poking into her arm. Again I catch sight of the code on her skin and wonder where mine is, or if I really want to know.
Does Adam have one too, wherever he is? I think to myself.
Not for the first time I torture myself with the worst case scenarios of why he's in a different location than us, and what they could be doing to him.
We were team—we are still one, but apart and in need of fixing. That kind of goal is hard to go after when one of us can't see, another is in a coma, and the third person unable to remember four months of his life.
Unless the leader voice inside my head suddenly offers a solution that would fix our entire ordeal, we won't be going down the pathway to success any time soon.
Tentatively I touch the numbers on her neck. The skin underneath the numbers is smooth, almost as if isn't marked in the first place.
Suddenly she twitches under my touch.
Leo's head tilts to the side. He heard the ruffle of her clothes against the surface of the metal table.
"What was that?" he asks, but I'm already taking his hand and bringing him to my side of the table, putting his fingers on top of the numbers like mine had been.
"Do feel that?" I say when I see her twitch again. It's almost as if the physical contact we make is sending waves of electricity through her, making her want to jump off the table.
"She's moving," Leo says in wonder. I think that he's too smart to hope for anything that would include her waking up, but had never thought about it like I do at night.
I nod, even though he can't see it.
A rush starts to gather in my stomach and heads upwards to explode through my chest. I feel my vision beginning to darken around the edges.
"I can't believe you hit him with your car," a female voice muttered in pity and disdain as I began to come to, everything feeling sore and throbbing.
An older male voice started to protest. "I didn't see him! He wasn't exactly glowing in the dark, you know."
I laid there, listening to them bicker back and forth as the massive pain in my limbs faded little by little.
"Guys," a male voice said, sounding around the age of the girl's. "He's moving."
Both of the voices immediately dropped silence at this. Taking this as my cue, I slowly pried my eyes opened. I was greeted with the sight of a high, metal-beamed ceiling instead of the painful blinding light of a hospital room that I was used to getting when waking up in pain.
I heard loud beeps of machinery around me, different things and mechanisms creating dim lights to go along with them.
Reluctantly I sat up, looking around me. There were four people, the girl and man I had heard earlier, a lanky dude sitting in a chair dripping a tablet, and a tall, built guy leaning against the wall in front of me beside a huge automatic set of doors.
"Hello, I'm Donald Davenport," the man introduced himself, holding out his hand.
Reluctantly, I took his outstretched hand and shook it. "Chase Pierce."
"See, at least he remembers his own name!" Donald said to the girl standing beside the table I was on, her arms crossed over her chest.
"My dad ran you over with his fancy car," she explained, before sticking out her own hand. "Bree Davenport. The lug nut on the wall is my older brother Adam, and the stick in the chair is our step-brother Leo."
Both of the boys nodded their heads at me before giving their sister offended looks.
"What is this place?" I asked, looking around the big room. It had several control panels and large glass cylinders going from the floor to ceiling instead of a wall behind me. Was he some kind of doctor?
"Basically, this is your home for the rest of your life," Bree said bluntly, not clarifying herself any further.
Donald gave her a glowering look before turning to me, giving an anxious smile. "You see, in order to help you live—"
"Big D put a chip in your neck," the guy named Leo spoke up, looking up from his tablet and speaking directly to me for the first time, "It strengthened your heart and helped your body with most of the massive blood loss. Now you're bionic. Just like Adam and Bree."
This chapter is pretty much a filler, but I keep getting sidetracked, but I will to work harder on this to get the chapters worked on and finished.
I do have another story in the works that is not published. It's pretty much a Marcus story because of a recent trend involving him, but it won't out until September or October. Or when this story is finished, whatever comes first.
Please review and tell me what you think because I love hearing your feedback!