Joan Ascends

Chapter 36: The tiniest measure of hope

I regain consciousness back in the cell with Lexi, who lays unmoving on her cot. The wounds from the laser whip were crudely stitched closed, but they still weep blood. Clearly no one wanted to spend the time and money to heal me when I'll be dead soon anyway.

"No words of welcome?" I ask my silent cellmate. "Lexi?"

I let myself drop off the cot and crawl over to her bed. I touch her arm and immediately recoil from the sensation of her cold skin. I haul myself up onto her cot, and turn her so she's facing me. Dried blood makes a track from the corner of her mouth down her chin, and there is no pulse fluttering in her neck. She's dead.

She looks smaller and older than she is in my imagination. Her hair was hacked off at some point, and without makeup I can see every wrinkle etched into her forehead. Will Strand replace her with some other Throwback who hates themselves as much as Lexi did? Or is the experiment of having a Throwback Darwin of Strand over?

On the heels of that thought comes the reality that soon I'll be dead, too. Dr. Rodriguez will make sure it hurts. Images from my time strapped to his table flash through my mind. What new torture will he dream up before he puts me out of my misery? The stillness of Lexi's body is suddenly terrifying, and I scuttle backward until I'm on my own cot.

My breathing comes faster and faster. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of Harriet and Justus and all the good that is outside the walls of Strand. The good that will go on after I'm gone.

That's when I remember my vision of Bella from the last time I was locked in here. I slide my hand underneath the mattress and my fingers brush against something. I pull out a slim metal case no bigger than my palm. The case opens easily and inside is a note and two tiny capsules that look like medicine.

I unroll the note and recognize Harriet's neat handwriting.

There is still hope. We're working on a plan, but this time you need to trust us and follow directions. When the guards come to take you out of your cell, take one of these pills. Within minutes, it will slow your pulse and breathing and lower your body temperature. You'll collapse by the time you get to Dr. Rodriguez's laboratory. By the time you're on his table, he'll think you're dead. From there, we've got a plan to recover you and bring you back to us.

Don't take the second dose unless you have no other choice. It will kill you painlessly if our plan fails. Don't make me regret giving you that option, Joan. Have faith, and know that we're coming for you.

I tuck Harriet's gift into my bra, and allow myself the tiniest measure of hope. All I can do now is wait, and try to ignore Lexi's body slowly decomposing on the cot next to mine.

***

Time passes, but no one brings food or drink. My lips grow dry, and the wound across my chest begins oozing pus instead of blood. Maybe instead of a lethal injection, Dr. Rodriguez will let me die slowly from thirst and infection.

Just when I'm beginning to consider whether I want to take Harriet's pills, someone slips in water, bread and some kind of mush through the slot in my door.

It's done so quickly that I suspect whoever did it wasn't supposed to help me. I want to peer out, but my body's needs take over and I eat and drink everything that was given me.

Minutes after I finish, I hear someone walking down the hall. Through the food slot, I recognize two Deans stopping at my door. Before I can second-guess myself, I take one of Harriet's pills and swallow it dry. Somewhere around halfway down my throat, the pill gets stuck. I swallow over and over again, but my mouth is too dry to make much saliva. I need one more swallow of water.

The door opens, and the two Deans each reach for an arm.

"Is it time?" I can't help asking. "Don't I get a last meal or something? Or at least one sip of water? Please, guys."

Neither man says anything as they march me down the hall. The pill still sits uncomfortably in my esophagus, creating a burning sensation. I wait for my senses to dim, to slip into unconsciousness as Harriet promised, but I feel as steady as I can after going so long without eating. The pill probably needs my stomach acid to dissolve.

By the time I reach Dr. Rodriguez's lab, I'm beginning to panic. Should I try to wrench my arm free and run? Or beg for that sip of water that will help send me into oblivion, so that I won't be awake for whatever terror is next? Anything sounds better than facing that sadistic monster again.

The Deans haul me onto one of the tables. I scream at the top of my lungs as they try to strap my legs down. I fight with everything I have in me, kicking one in the face, breaking his nose.

Dr. Rodriguez hustles in as I kick the second Dean in his stomach with all my strength. He grunts, but it doesn't stop him from getting one of my legs strapped down.

The second Dean recovers enough to get my other leg strapped, and the blood from his nose drips all over my shirt.

"Why are you doing this?" I scream. "As a Throwback, you're nothing to them! You can choose, right now, to fight back!"

Dr. Rodriguez gags me, even as I keep screaming, while the Deans mercilessly strap my arms onto the table.

"She's secure," the doctor says, his breath coming a little faster than usual. "You can wait outside the door until I call for you."

Black spots dance in front of my vision now from the sheer terror of what will happen. Harriet's pill is still burning in my throat, but I can't dislodge it no matter how many times I swallow.

My mind goes feral, and I yank at my restraints with everything I have. The strap holding my right arm starts to give, just a bit. It's the strap that Lozen cut partway all those weeks ago.

My mind suddenly slows and calms. Lozen knew, in her vision back then, that it would be important for me to be able to escape this table. She was just wrong about the timing.

I tug and tug on the strap as inconspicuously as I can while Dr. Rodriguez does something outside of my field of vision. I'll have one chance to surprise him, and I won't waste it.

With a final tug, the strap comes free, just as the doctor returns with a scalpel in his hand. "We'll cut out your chip first, so we can determine—"

Before he finishes his sentence, I yank the scalpel from his hand and stab it as hard as I can straight into his eye. The weapon sinks in deep from the force of my rage-powered blow, and he drops to the floor without making so much as a single groan.

I make quick work of the strap on my left arm and then free my legs. I hop off the table, and the burning in my esophagus suddenly eases. The pill must have finally been dislodged and landed in my stomach.

Next to me, a growing pool of blood around Dr. Rodriguez's head makes my head swim. He's the fourth man I've killed. Unlike with Headmaster Hunter, Officer Boer, and even Dr. Avery, guilt doesn't swamp me. If anyone needed to die, it was this child-murderer.

My mind races as I try to determine what to do next. I have enough time to take the second pill if I want to, but Harriet asked me not to take it unless I had no other choice. Maybe, for once, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, and I have to trust my friends to figure out the rest.

My fingers and toes grow numb with cold, and my legs shake uncontrollably. I stumble, crashing into the doctor's medical cart. My vision tunnels and I fall to my hands and knees as the door opens and the Deans race in.

The last thing I see before lights out is the slow smile on the face of the Dean closest to me when he sees Dr. Rodriguez dead next to me on the floor.

"That bastard got what he deserved. Kid, we're going to get you out of here."

Then his eyes meet mine, and his grin vanishes.

"Hal, we're too late. He killed her."