Six

Chapter Three

Think. Run. Survive.

Those three words run through my mind on loop, my feet skidding sluggishly across the ankle deep sand that surrounds me like an ocean.

I can feel the snap of twigs under my shoes, the thin layer of protection not able to shield me from the damage they're causing. I can worry about my injuries later.

Without looking back, I already know the boy is on my trail. The sound of his heavy breathing continues to ring deep within my ears, the thought of what he is planning only making me feel sick to my stomach.

He's definitely not much of a talker.

Without warning, my knees suddenly buckle from underneath me, my entire body now sliding weakly across a patch of freshly moist mud, a fiery pain consuming me.

It takes every bit of restraint left to keep me from screaming out in agony. A thin stream of vomit escapes the small opening between my busted lips, the liquid feeling like fire as it makes its way up my throat.

Footsteps. I can hear them now, the sound impossible to miss. It's as if someone has released a stampede of wild animals from their cages, letting them free to kill every breathing piece of meat in their way.

"Stop..." I whisper weakly. I can feel my eyelids slowly begin to blanket over my eyes, sealing them shut for good.

I'm dying. Heart beat slowing. Lungs failing. Voice fading. Memories flashing. It's all happening so fast, my mind can hardly process it.

Maybe I was meant to die this young? I can feel the hot tears begin to roll down my cheeks in light waves, my body too frail to even let out one last cry.

Then there's nothing but the sound of my raspy breathing, and a world of blackness behind my dying eyes.

***

"Hand me her tracker."

"Number?"

"Six."

Click. Click. Click. Someone is walking to the other side of the room, their shoes clicking loudly with every step.

"Thank you, Jane."

The clicking shoes stop.

"What's this one's name?"

"Jessi."

The voices continue to fade in and out of hearing range, my eyes rolling around in my skull uncontrollably fast. No matter how hard I try, they refuse to break free of the barrier my eyelids have created.

I'm not dead. With a burst of fear, escape mode kicks in instantly, my weak limbs struggling to lift up and process correctly.

A stinging sensation tears through my arm as it lifts up ever so slightly, a tube rubbing lightly across the bruised skin.

I have an I.V. They're drugging me, whoever 'they' may be. It suddenly feels as if I'm choking on my own tongue, my throat refusing to swallow my saliva.

"Hel-" I slur in a raspy whisper, my head bobbing wildly against the cool, metal bed I've been laid upon. My curious hands begin to grope my surroundings in a panicked urgency.

Soft wool rubs across my finger tips, the feeling eerily familiar and warm. A table has been propped to the right of my bed, all of the tools and medicines bagged and kept safely shut. They planned ahead.

Just as I'm about to tear through one of them and find an alternative for a weapon, the foreign voices return, their tones instantly rising in surprise.

"Six is awake!" The deeper voice, a man, yells across the room.

My eyelids tear free, the sudden brightness of the operating room nearly blinding me.

Struggling to get my vision to focus, I grab blindly at anything in hand's-reach, my fingers curling tightly around a blue bag containing surgical tools.

The footsteps grow closer, my surroundings swirling around me in a tornado of blurring colors and sounds.

My hands fumbling, I tear open the bag in one tug, plastic fabric and tools flying everywhere. I snatch the nearest tool, a thin metal piece with a pointed tip, and raise it up at the man approaching me with quick reflexes.

The man instantly stops in his tracks, his brown eyes growing wide with fear. My curious eyes can't help but study him with a hunger for answers.

He's dressed in a loose uniform, similar to one of a doctor in your average hospital. Only his outfit is a midnight-black and padded for protection, a military-style belt wrapped tightly around his waist.

With a quick glance, I notice the gun hanging loosely from it. There's no doubt in my mind that I've already lost this fight.

He's on me before I can even react, his rough palms latching onto my wrists like the claws of a lion, catching its prey with swift precision.

"Get off of me!" I yelp, my body struggling to break free of his impossibly tight grip.

A chilling laugh escapes the doctor's throat, his head twisting to the side in amusement.

"Ya' hear that, Jane? The little one wants to me to let her go!" He mocks, an ugly smile painting from ear to ear across his rugged face.

The woman, Jane, tucks a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear in nervous excitement, a smile now breaking out across her face as well. She laughs nervously, her delicate hands now groping at the table behind her in search of something.

Her fingers quickly curl around a large plastic tube, a thin needle serving as the tip. It doesn't take me long to realize what's about to happen.

I watch carefully as she gently pushes on the end of it, a drop of ocean blue serum splashing on to the tiled floor below.

My attention snaps back to the doctor as his grip tightens, every muscle in my body slowly beginning to lose hope.

Don't give up now.

I spit directly in the ugly doctor's face, his mouth instantly twisting into a dramatic frown. I feel the sting before it comes, his hand swiping me right across the cheek.

Then comes another slap. And another.

"How dare you!" He hisses, the venom flowing out of his mouth with each word.

Click. Click. Click. Jane moves with confidence across the room, her fingers carefully latching on to the syringe. I feel like throwing up.

"Please!" I scream through clenched teeth, my weak arms struggling to break free.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Jessi." The doctor hisses, his eyes transforming into black slits.

Orange scales splatter across his entire body, a pink forked tongue sliding out of his mouth in almost slow motion. The doctor is turning into a snake right before my eyes.

I let out a bloody scream, every remaining ounce of energy now exploding out of me.

My head bobs from side to side, my surroundings a rainbow of random colors blurring by.

Heart beat slowing. Eyes sealing shut. Body weakening. Numb.

My eyes peel open one last time; just enough to spot the empty syringe letting out one last drip onto my checkered hospital gown. A faint stinging runs up my neck, the puzzle pieces finally forming a picture.

The sound of laughter is the last thing I hear before I'm left with the silence of my mind, and the blackness of my eyelids.