Sentinel Event

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Even the television station was too controlled for Aidriel to tell the time of day or the date. He guessed from the commercials that they were in Pennsylvania or Eastern Ohio. There was no guide to what would be airing, and no way of keeping track of the hours based on the programming. They'd taken his watch away while he was in the hospital and he hadn't gotten it or any of his other personal belongings back. The storage tubs contained clean clothing for him, and he had only the pair of shoes he was wearing when he arrived.

Every so often, at intervals he couldn't consider a schedule because they were purposefully erratic, the door would open and three of the medical mercenaries would come in. He had been given an electronic reading device with a random selection of books on it, and was fed twice a day. There were five bland meals they cycled through at random, ignoring the fact he hated the fish and never touched it. The water tasted like minerals, and barely took the edge off his perpetual thirst. He was used to some degree of paranoia, but since arriving at the Bird Cage he'd been increasingly agitated or overwhelmingly drowsy, even dizzy, which he attributed to boredom and being sedentary. The orderlies did not seem to consider him a threat and didn't bother to talk to him. What was there to say?

"How many days have I been here?" Aidriel finally asked when he was sure a full week had passed. "I need to know how long I've been in one place."

The orderlies raised their eyebrows at him like he was a monkey trying to imitate them, and left without answering his question.

If only each day were indeed his last. Living as if there might be no tomorrow caused every minute to pass at an agonizingly slow rate, and Aidriel was itching for something to happen. He began to ache for a rope and a branch to hang it from, and he was almost impatient for what he knew was going to occur, though he dreaded it also.

"I have to know how long I've been here!" Aidriel called out to the ceiling, unsure of where the cameras or sensors even were. "I need to know how long it's been."

Time was important. He had to know how long it would be before the Passers would find him.

After the first meal on one of the featureless days, Aidriel was sitting at the table with his chin resting on his folded arms when the doors unlocked and Dreamer came in with two orderlies as an escort.

"Hi, I'm here to draw some blood," she said as if they were strangers.

Without speaking, Aidriel straightened and pulled up his sleeve, extending his arm. His face let slip the smallest sign of his pleasure at finally seeing her and his hopes that she might be all he imagined she was. Dreamer set her tray of supplies on the table, but one of the mercenaries picked it up again to keep it out of Aidriel's reach.

"Why does my blood have to be tested?" Aidriel asked. "Am I on drugs?"

Dreamer wouldn't look at him or answer, but took a small sheet of labels for the tubes from her tote. Pretending to double-check the stickers, she laid them on the table, tapping them with her fingertip to draw Aidriel's attention to a certain word. The labels were upside-down, but in the snatch of view Aidriel had before one of the orderlies picked up the sheet he saw the word Depakene. He had no idea what that was and looked to the phlebotomist, who had chosen her supplies from the tray and was putting on her gloves. She mouthed the word "schizophrenia."

The orderly with the labels cleared his throat; Dreamer ignored him, tying her tourniquet around Aidriel's arm, choosing the sight and cleansing it with an alcohol wipe while Aidriel watched her closely for any other subtle communication. She went about her business without talking at first, finally warning just before the needle pierced his skin, and waiting while the red-and-yellow-topped tube filled.