"YOU almost done in there?"
I can see the dark silhouette of the nurse in the green scrubs hidden behind the shower curtain. She lays her hands on her hips and even through the curtain, I can see the impatience written on her face.
I sigh and turn the water off. I run my fingers through my washed dark brown hair, "I'm done."
I push the curtain aside. My wet, naked body shivers in the cool air.
"Put on one of those robes." She points to the left of me at a bin filled with robes.
I quickly wrap it around my freezing body. It fits perfect but it's not much help. The papery material scratches against me.
She sends me a friendly smile, "Go through that door over there."
I follow her arm that's now pointing to a door on the other side of the room. Beyond the door, I find another nurse. She has on the same green scrubs. She's writing something down and doesn't look to happy when she tells me to sit on the examination table.
When she stands in front of me, she lets out a fake looking smile and puts the same silver disk as Parker did to my forehead. It glows the same familiar red color as it did on the bus.
"Good, you don't have a fever." She flashes the same fake smile as before, "Now, hop down from there. I have to get your weight."
She guides me to a scale and writes my weight down. I stare at the numbers for a second too long. I look down and notice how accurate they are, I've lost more weight than I thought. I don't even remember the last time I ate.
Self-consciously, I cross my arms in attempt to cover my much too thin stomach.
I scan the room. There's a stool in front of the counter, where the nurse was sitting when I walked in, three plastic, fold-up chairs in the corner and the examination table in the middle.
I sit on top of the table and hear the crunch of the thin paper lining. I swing my legs back and forth impatiently. It's like she's writing an essay on that damn clipboard. Sure, take your time.
"Just letting you know, I'm freezing my ass off over here." I spit, crossing my arms and arching my eyebrows.
She lets out a small chuckle, "Finally some personality! I've been dealing with little kids for hours, you know how they are. Always following the crowd, just being boring."
My annoyed expression doesn't change.
"Alright," she goes on. "I'm going to ask you some questions. Try to answer them as best as you can."
I nod and she begins, "Name?"
"Scarlet." It sounds almost dry as it comes out. It seems as if names don't really mean anything anymore.
"Age?"
"Sixteen."
She keeps her eyes glued to the clipboard, "Any family known to be alive?"
The words sill out as if it's a casual thing to say, "No. They're all dead."
Dead doesn't mean anything to me, at this point. It's like a flipped switched inside me. I've used up to many tears on the dead. My heart is still beating but I'm not really alive. I'm being shot at with everything they have but somehow, I'm still able to avoid the bullets. I'm still here but just as dead as the rest. I'm something that drives what the true meaning of emptiness is.
She nods but she wants more, "How did they die?"
I swallow and, let the words stream out, "Dad died in the quakes. My sister got the plague and, uh, my mom was shot."
I don't get upset. I stare at the white tiled floor.
"Their deaths don't upset you?" She questions, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Not anymore." I answer with the truth and look up into her eyes.
She nods and licks over her lips, "Do you want to avenge your family, Scarlet?"
I nod. It's all I want. It's probably what most of the surviving people want.
She smirks and stands up. She drops the clipboard on the counter. I watch intently as her hand finds the cabinet door. She pulls a small pellet and a needle down from the shelf and places them on the counter top. Then she pulls open a drawer and places a larger silvery needle next to first on.
"Good," she turns back to face me. "That's why you're here Scarlet."
--------
THE next room is small. The walls and floor are the same bright white color as the previous one. The nurse follows me in and hands the paper with my data to another lady, a doctor. When the nurse leaves I don't move. I stand in the doorway rubbing the back of my neck.
"Is the tracker hurting you?" She asks, gesturing her head up at me while keeping her eyes glued to the clipboard in her hands.
I put my arm down, "No."
The nurse in the room before explained that they had to insert everyone with a tracking device. They want to make sure everyone is accounted for and no one gets lost. She numbed the back of my neck with the smaller needle and used the larger needle to insert the tracking pellet.
It's an odd feeling, to know that you are constantly being tracked. It's kinda of like these people took what's left of the human in me and turned me into a machine. Or, at least, that's what it feels like to me.
The thing that strikes me the most is how these people say they're helping. How exactly is being tracked helping when your confined in a camp along with everyone else?
She points to the chair in the middle of the room, "You can go sit down there."
The chair reminds me of a chair you'd find in a dentists office. It's narrow, with a high back seat and thin armrests on both sides. I try to get comfortable but, it doesn't work.
"Don't worry, this is the last thing." She sends me a warm smile, "You can call me Dr. Pam by the way."
I try to turn the smile, but it disappears in an instant. I rub my arms in attempt to warm myself up. Dr. Pam continues to talk, "Thanks for being so patient with us, Scarlet. This is a simple test. We need to check to make sure your tracker works," she puts the clipboard down on the counter. "It's technology we got from The Others. It helps us ensure your safety."
My mind goes foggy. The only thing sparking though it is one question, "You got technology from the aliens?"
The aliens. The word makes it way out of my mouth dryly.
They're the ones who did this. They're the ones who killed my family. They're the ones who killed the 7 billion people other people on the planet.
They're more complex than the word gives them credit for, though. Aliens makes them seem like green, weird looking creatures, you know, all that 'we come in peace' crap they show on TV. But, that's not even close to true.
I've never actually seen one but, it's clear to me they are intelligent beings. So, they caught a name after they first arrived to Earth: The Others. It seemed more suiting, I guess.
They attacked us in waves. They killed us off by the thousands.
Some lived, some didn't but in my eyes it's all luck, only the lucky ones survived. Or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe it's the lucky ones that died. They don't have to suffer through anymore of this. Of this life that's not really being lived.
But, here I am—lucky or unlucky; whatever you want to call it—a survivor of the waves, being told I'm 'safe'.
"Yes. It's a pretty remarkable program. It's called Wonderland." Dr. Pam replies.
I repeat the word with question, "Wonderland?"
She nods. I scoff, "Creative name."
She lets out a laugh mixed with a sigh, "Now lay all the way back."
Dr. Pam lowers the chair so I'm laying flat. "Wonderland can be really intense sometimes. People can react in all different ways. Some even start moving around during the test. So, I'm going to have to strap your arms down."
I sit up instantly, "You're not strapping me down."
I can't really trust these people. I'm not going to let them hold me down.
"I know your scared, Scarlet. But everything's going to be okay. You can trust me," Dr. Pam convinces me with another warm smile.
She gently pushes my shoulders back down and for some reason I trust her. I trust her that everything will be okay in that moment.
I stare at the blank ceiling. She straps in my arms tight. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. All of a sudden my body jolts forward and I'm lost. All I see is a bright white light.
She's killing me, this is it.
But I'm wrong. I'm not being killed, I wish I was.
First, I'm in my crib staring at my parents happy smiles. Then, I take my first steps. Next, my first words. Until it's my first day of preschool. All my memories float in front of my eyes. My first time trying ice cream, my first kiss, my first failing grade, my first everything. My second everything. Anything that's ever happened to me replaying in my mind like a movie.
The bad memories spill out as well. I watch my dad be swallowed by the second wave. The rumbling ground eats him up while I run away in fear. The trees shake and branches fall before the large tree stumps do. I feel the burning tears streaming down my face while my father's killer tries to get me too.
I watch my little sister's eyes turn red. I watch as the blood spews from her lips. I watch her die slowly, painfully, until the life finally leaves her eyes. I watch my mother reach her breaking point. I relive the moment she runs out of the house. I relive the moment I begin to chase after her. I feel the rain in my hair again. The same trees, the same darkness of the night surround us.
Then, I hear the gunshot that turned my family into just me ring out. I watch as my mothers body jerks back and falls into the mud. I feel more hot tears, more rain. I feel the wind surround me as I take off running, again.
Then I'm laying in the mud near the road the bus found me on. I'm on the bus with Parker. I'm listening to the rain. Then, reality finally reaches me.
I jult forward. I try to catch my breath but there's no use. I can't breath. My arms are still strapped to the chair. Dr. Pam's arm lands on my shoulder.
Still panting I shout at her, "What the hell was that?"
She doesn't answer me. She undoes the straps around my wrists and helps me stand. Then she turns and walks toward the counter. I watch her pen run across my data sheet:
Number ninety-six has been mapped.
I hope these chapters aren't too boring. Zombie will be in the next chapter! Please enjoy!