Subject 3033...(BWAM, Sci-fi Romance, 18+)

Chapter Five

The pic above, is of Noe Bon-Hwa...

"We killed your mother, it was the only way we knew how to tame you..."

Those words haunt me, they taunt me, they mock me. They play and replay inside my mind like an everlasting soundtrack, like a neverending phonograph. They leave me feeling more vulnerable than I ever have been in all my living. The rains continue to pour even as my gaze flutters open and meekly adjusts to tall trunks of trees that loom all about me. The waters wash over my backside and the shivers scrape and gnaw. How long have I lay here? How long?

Little mumbles tumble past my chapped and bruising lips, little mumbles incoherent even to my own self. My hairs stick to my temple like tiny worms. A shadder racks my body so violently. From a distance, a grave distance, booted feet splatter against small pools and streams. There is a silentness, a lengthy period of quietness. That is until my body is levitated, sandwiched between powerfully arms and rigid chest.

Or do I imagine it. A hallucination of sorts. A delusion that my fatigued mind formulates. Is it a figment of wild imagination that I am whisked away from death's embrace? But who would dare become my salvation in this dying world? Who would dare save a simple stranger? Do they too intend to hold me slave to all their whims? To torture me to a point beyond death?

Have they found me? Siobhan and her men, have they finally caught up with me? I battle, I strain to lift gaze to the peculiar man that clutches me firmly to him. He wears a gas mask that completely enfolds his face and the image of him becomes blurry, too blurry.
"Sleep. I will not hurt you, you have my word," his voice much like an echo rumbles inside his chest...

**************

My throat is horridly parched, dry as a bone. My eyes flutter open slowly, painfully. They scrutinize, they drink in the chamber in which I am lain. White walls and ceilings, white draperies and glowering illuminations. White everything. Did I finally die? Is this the afterlife they'd told me about back in the labs? Back in the labs? Where am I? Grace, where am I! Voices from a grave distance begin to infiltrate the serenity of the chamber and the beads of perspiration trickle down my temples and along the length of my spine.

"You did not tell me where you found her, Noe," comes first voice, woman's voice.
"In the forest of Thais. She was beyond fragile when I got to her, wasn't much of a threat. How is her wound?" Comes second voice, man's voice, peculiarly familiar voice.
"The wound is healing faster than it should. Noe, you need to know something."

Fleeting seconds of silence.

"What is it?"
"When I examined her, run some tests, I discovered a barcode tattoo on the back of her neck. So, I scanned it, got some shocking results."
"Go on."
"She is not human, Noe. She is a clone. The world's first successful biological experiment in the field of cloning."

"Tokyo..."
"Noe, keeping her here is like inviting danger both to us and the rest of the survivors of this virus. The same institute that worked to create her is the very same one that manufactured the virus coupled with an antivirus, I'm certain. The institute's name is Avalon."
"What more did you gather from the barcode?"

"That she is two hundred and seventy six months old, twenty three years in short. Is multilingual and trained as a lethal weapon of war. She cannot contract certain diseases as her body's immunity is higher than that of the average human. That also means that she can heal a lot faster. That's exactly why, despite the hypothermia she'd suffered and almost succumbed to forty nine hours ago when you'd brought her in, her temperatures are now back to normal. She cannot conceive and her name is Subject 3033."

"She has no human name?"
"No human name on the basis of the information I've gathered."
"Why would they have all her information easily accessed using a barcode tattoo they'd tattoo on her flesh? Isn't that a little peculiar?"
"Noe, she was never meant to be in the hands of anyone but her creators. So what should we do with her?"

They are going to torture me, to kill me, to eliminate me entirely from existence. Painfully, perhaps. The very thought sends a jolt of horror darting through every single fibre, every single tendon and bone of my body.  With only one thought in mind  -survival- I reach for the scalpel sat on the operation table right next to me and toss it at the woman.

The man -Noe is his name- is quick in his reflexes. He grabs hold of surgical instrument right before it strikes woman's eye.
"We save you from death and the first thing you try to do when you get up is kill us?" The female -Tokyo- snaps.
Yes, she glares upon me, her brows knitted, her arms folded beneath her bosom from her position by the doors.

"She felt threatened. We are not going to kill you neither will we hand you over to your creators," Noe speaks in a monotone, his gaze never breaking from my own.
"Where will she live, Noe?"
"With me. I should be able to handle her just fine."

"Cousin, I am sorry but are you out of your mind? We can't keep her!"
"Then tell me where she will go from here. You better than anyone comprehend the gravity of the situation outside this bunker. Those that were not completely taken by the virus have now mutated into flesh-eating scavengers."

Even as Noe works to defend me, his voice does not rise, his demeanor remains composed, remains collected, never cracks. And so, sighing more to herself, her index and thumb pinching the bridge of her nose, Tokyo glances from Noe to me before she proceeds to snatch the scalpel from his grip.

"I am sorry I tried to kill you," I coo as she matches up to me and begins to examine the wound on my side.
"It is okay provided you do not attempt to pull such stunts on anyone in this place, you got that?"
"I understand," silence then, "I love you body drawings."

Momentarily, she halts with her examinations and just stares upon me. Subtle smile curves upon her lips and I can only reciprocate it with one of my own.
"They are called tattoos and why thank you. I love your accent. German?"
She wraps clean sterile gauze around my abdomen whilst she speaks. Noe -on the other hand- remains perched in his own shadowy little corner, observing from a distance.

"Russian. But I can switch it at will."
"Because you are multilingual," she finishes, eyes trained upon task at hand.
"Yes, because I am multilingual."
"Well, I am done with that wound. I've stitched up some of the other deep cuts you have on your back and I am certain Noe will be delighted to assist you in changing the gauze and oiling the injury twice every day. Won't you, cousin?"

My gaze travels to meet Noe's who's face is a sheet of unreadable stoicism, his arms folded before his chest, his brows furrowed, his lips pursed.
"You need a name because Subject 3033 is just not it. A human name. Did you ever have one back in those labs?" Tokyo's voice rings, dilutes the tension, draws my vision back to her.
"Yes. My...my mother gave me a name. Harlow. Harlow Tallulah."
"Well then. Harlow Tallulah we shall refer to you as..."

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