Lab Rats

Chapter 10

Decided I hated this but now I kinda wanna continue 

The after life was bright.

And it beeped suspiciously like a heart monitor.

I groaned and tried to cover my eyes, but my arm only moved a few inches before jerking to a stop. The sound of metal on metal clicked; handcuffs catching on railing.

"You're awake." A female voice came from my left.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the bright lights. I was staring at a ceiling. The ceiling of the company infirmary. Memories flooded back, images of Joon and Parker already passed out in a pool of blood, the others falling.

We had failed.

Well, I had failed. The sickening realization that one of them may have actually succeeded hit me and I struggled against the cuffs to sit up.

"What happened?" Where are the others?" I demanded.

The doctor - the same one who had stitched my hand and given Parker the eyedrops - came into view, putting a hand on each of my shoulders and firmly shoving me back against the pillow.

"They're all here," she gestured to either side of the little curtain cubicle we were in, at the neighboring ones.

I stopped struggling, relieved everyone else had also survived. She kept her hands on my shoulders, pressing me firmly against the thin pillow, but released me after a moment, once she was sure I was done resisting. I stared at the roof instead, refused to make eye contact.

"What happened?" I repeated.

"You were too late. The guards found you before anyone lost too much blood." She spoke so matter-of-factly, it irritated me."It was difficult to keep you alive though. D-18 required a more extensive surgery."

My head spun with questions. I decided to start with, "How long have we been out?"

"Four days. We kept you sedated to avoid further issues. D-10 woke up first, about three hours ago, followed by D-16."

Made sense. Amir and Parker were the strongest.

"D-18 woke up a few minutes before you did." She continued explaining.

Of course Joon would be the last to wake up.

Instead of replying, I took everything in. There was an IV in my right arm, right below the bend of my elbow. My left wrist was bandaged from the middle of my forearm to the base of my fingers, wrapping around my thumb. I pulled against the handcuff experimentally, but whatever was in the IV must've had pain killers, because the metal digging into my wrist was painless.

"What's... What's gonna happen now?" I kept my eyes trained on my wrist.

The doctor pursed her lips. "I can't indulge in that information." She said. I rolled my eyes. "The CEO will speak to you once everyone has regained consciousness."

She pulled something out of the breast pocket on her white coat and commanded me to look up. She shined the light in each of my eyes, then checked my breathing with the stethoscope slung around her neck. After assessing my vitals and deciding I wasn't on the brink of death, she left the room for a moment, returning with a tray. A guard followed her in.

"It's time to clean the wound and change the bandage." The doctor told me.

The guard pulled a keyring from his belt and unlocked the cuff around my wrist and wrapped a beefy hand around my bicep, keeping me from moving. The doctor unwrapped the bandage and I got a glimpse of the cut. There was a line of pink, raised skin, about three and a half inches long, starting at the base of my wrist. A thin line of red, dried blood indicated where the edges of my skin had been pulled back together. Little pieces of black thread crossed over it, coming together in knots and holding everything in place.

I grimaced.

Once the bandage was off, the guard placed one hand just below my elbow and wrapped one around the back of my hand so his fingers came together on my palm. It was a precaution, in case I tried anything while the cuff was off, but after my most recent colossal failure, I didn't have the will to do anything other than sit and watch in a numb stupor.

Once a fresh bandage had been wrapped around my arm and the handcuff secured around my wrist, I was left alone. I laid awake, staring at the roof and going over everything that had happened in my head. Somehow I had started the day being asked to murder a room full of people and ended it by killing myself. Well, trying at least. I pictured the other guys on the bathroom floor, blood pooling around us, and felt a mixture of guilt and disappointment. I had been the one to start our failed attempt, and it was because of me that we were all chained to hospital beds, and if our lives got worse or we got punished, it would be my fault. And since we had failed, we would have to face whatever the company had in store for us.