Eyes of the infected ✔ [COMPLETED]

Chapter twenty-one

Lucas was almost completely still now, with covers rolled up and tied around his shoulders, chest, stomach, thighs, knees and feet. Growls and saliva fell from his mouth but he could only shake and spit, held down by mere pieces of fabric.
He was my brother.

'Miss Sawyer... Harley, can you come and stand with him?'
'Sorry, who's calling the shots round here?' Bruce looked bewilderedly at William.
'You, sir, I just wonder if perhaps familiar contact will stimulate the experimental mixture to work'.
'You have five minutes before I shoot him. Let her move'.
Admittedly, for a minute I imagined standing up, elbowing the man behind me, stealing his gun and pulling the trigger while aimed at Bruce. But the idea fell from my head as I was shoved towards Lucas who was now only a metre away from me and I slowly made up the difference, staring in wonder as he spat up at me, moving in a  frenzy as much as was possible for him. My hand inadvertently reached out to touch him before Percy and Keith's voice spoke from behind me, telling me to be careful and I did, retracting my hand.
'Why couldn't you have just left him?' I whispered, anger igniting the idea of shooting him all over again, 'Look at him!'
'He was dead already sweetcheeks, at least we tried to do some good with him, we...'

His voice faded out as everything seemed to hush while lips still moved but I didn't care for their words. I couldn't take my eyes off of the hands of my brother as they stopped clenching and unclenching, slowly opening and falling limp at his sides. His movements, the jerking and biting, it stopped slowly as the power seemed to leave him and his whole body fell limp and the eyes of Lucas, the eyes of the infected, closed slowly, so slowly I almost didn't know if it was actually happening.
'My god, look!' William cried, 'Quick, check the monitors, Santos, look up the charts, now!'
'Shit' Bruce's voice filtered back into my ears as everyone kicked into action while I stayed still in the middle of the rush, heart keeping up with their footsteps, 'Is he dead, what?'
'Lucas...' I reached out to him once more and felt my hand being slapped away as everyone crowded and I remained confused and out of breath.
'What is it? What have you done to him?' I cried, yanking on the arms of the scientists, demanding answers with anger.
'We aren't sure miss Sawyer, these moments are crucial'.

I was pulled backwards carefully but firmly and I didn't fight, just stood in a complete daze, eyes darting to Bruce, papers, William, Lucas, Bruce, Lucas.
'Okay, if he wakes up, sir, we will not know what kind of state he will be in so-'
'Wait' I held a hand up, jolting when my heart stopped, 'If he wakes up? He's waking up?'
'The concoction is acting as it should at the moment but the extent to which it will work we cannot figure out without practical testing, your brother may wake up with complete memory loss, a different  way of thinking, warped memories, a new personality, severely brain damaged or he may simply not wake up'.
'What are the chances?' I breathed, feeling as though I was in some kind of dream.
'We worked very hard to find a way to light all the parts of the brain up as they used to be, before death. Just don't get your hopes up, it's the longest shot' he nodded but I couldn't miss the excitement in his eyes and when I glanced back to the boys, they looked as shocked as I felt. How had we suddenly entered into a world where a person could be dead but wake up as the person they used to be? It questioned all the science I'd ever known, every shred of reality.

I sat for a while back on that chair, hand in hand with the boys again while a watchful eye was kept on all of us to make sure we stayed still and let what would happen, happen. The truth was I didn't have any bright ideas. I couldn't stand up and tell them to leave him alone because maybe I'd regret it forever. I couldn't just sit and let them carry on because it was wrong, so wrong. I couldn't get my head around the fact if he even woke up, it would be like talking to either someone who was severely disabled, a completely different person or someone with no memory of his life. Was he better off dead?
Oh god, that was sick, wasn't it?
Or was it? I didn't know anymore.

'I'm sorry' a voice mumbled from behind me and when I turned round, I met the gaze of the guilty looking man who was holding me in my place.
'Sorry?' I whispered, noting that Keith and Percy were staring at him too, he'd caught all of our attention.
'Sorry this is happening. Bruce, he's like a dog with a bone... trust me, I want to be at home, I do'.
'Then can't you go?' I asked with a glimmer of hope, 'You have a gun, you hate him, we hate him, the whole damn room probably hates him'.
'I wish it were that easy'.
'How old are you?' Keith asked him, glancing to the men who were holding him and Percy to their chairs. They didn't seem to care, just glanced at us every now and then, 'What's your name?'
'Darren and I'm nineteen, didn't join the army that long ago' he laughed humourlessly, 'Kinda regret it now'.
Now he'd told us his age, I could see it. He had the tiniest amount of blonde hair and a strong jawline with pale skin and a toned looking body. I didn't doubt there were people missing him.
'I'm nineteen too' Keith said quietly, 'And there is no fucking way I'd be a part of what you're doing. This girl here has lost everyone and that man over there is taking what's left. We had a long journey up to where we are now, we lost a lot of people and we want to live, not be trapped here with a bunch of psychopaths. Help us out, man, be a friend'.

He just stood for a minute, ignoring the gazes of the people either side of him who were looking curiously to see what he'd say.
'You two' I spoke boldly, taking a risk, 'Don't you loathe him, seriously? He treats people like crap, no respect. What you're doing is just as bad as what he's doing, we're just people. What's your names?'
'Sam' The man holding Keith spoke but the man with his arms on Percy now looked stony faced and with a bald head and strong, sharp features with socking icy eyes, that look was daunting as ever.
'Shut up, Sam' He spat angrily, 'We don't cohort with little kids'.
'They aren't kids'.
'He's right, we're not' Percy squeaked suddenly when the guy's fingers visibly dug into his shoulders.
'Get off him, we're just trying to stay alive' Keith sent him a furious glare which the man returned almost scarily.

'They're right' Darren spoke loudly, 'They're ri-'
'Oh my god' Sam muttered, staring right through all of us.
'What?'
'Look'.
We all turned round and for a moment I didn't see anything, just that familiar jolt of pain as I had to look at Lucas limp and lifeless on that table, silently being stared at by everyone. But wait, he wasn't limp and lifeless because that same finger which had shocked me the first time was twitching. Or was it a trick of the light?
'Is he moving?' I choked out, almost hoping they'd say no. I wanted to remember Lucas as Lucas, not a horribly damaged teenager, ruined by a disease, a gunshot.
'Yes'.
I didn't know who answered, I didn't care. The hands on me loosened and I staggered forward; every step I took seemed to drag Lucas further and further out of  his death - first step, a hand twitch, second step, an arm jerk, third step, his chest moved, fourth and final step his neck jolted.

Silence overtook the room as we all witnessed this miracle, this disaster, this mystery unfolding before our eyes. He'd breathe and not remember me but there he was, breathing, when I'd mourned him, I'd cried for him. This was too much, I was elated and depressed beyond belief, shocked and full of anticipation, fearful and excited. He wouldn't be my Lucas anymore but he was alive, wasn't he? For how long?
Too many questions.
Nobody spoke as his face seemed to spasm and I could only watch as muscle by muscle, he rose from sleep, or death. The world stopped as his lips parted and the most glorious breath sounded.

And then my heart froze as his eyes opened.