Vial #127

Chapter 28: Reunited Descendants

"Another one with a fever. It's no big deal. Just a flu going around." That's what the nurse tells me after sitting the mother down at the far end with the other two patients. Another worker emerges from the back, attaching an IV to their arm.

The nurse pokes and prods at my wrist, finally declaring that there's a small fracture. She wraps it up in a stiff brace, securing a tensor bandage around that. The pressure immediately makes the pain fade away. She issues me out, insisting that if the pain comes back, I return to the infirmary.

I thank her and return to my bed in the Atrium. Lying against the base is a bag of clothes, the journal and the case. I glance around before checking the trunk. I count each one, twice to be sure. Inside there's nine vials. They must have taken one; they must know. I used one on Stef and another on my father, there should be ten. I review the history in my head. The journal seems untouched aside from a tiny scratch along the leather.

I take an outfit from the bag and head to the bathroom where I take a long shower, the first one I've had in ages. I take in the scene of soap as I lather my skin until it's soft. When I'm done I dress in the smooth, clean clothes, heading back to my mattress with my hair wrapped in a towel.

When I return, everyone is already sitting down for dinner. I take down my hair and pull it up into a messy, loose bun. There's an empty table in the dark side of the room; the single light overhead not reaching the wall. At the front of the room is a school cafeteria style line up. I get in the back, reaching for a tray. The line moves slowly but I eventually reach the front and a worker slops on some meat lathered in gravy and a mixture of cooked corn, carrots and peas. I thank her, grateful, and return to my deserted seat. There's chatter and laughter arising from the group but I feel safer in my spot.

Longing fills my mind as I remember the bright colorful dinners I used to have with my family. My mother would cook the best meals every night. My father would barbecue and my brother and I would set the table. Then we'd all sit down and eat, telling stories of our day and what not.

A tear forms in my eye, rolling down. This meal is in no contest of my Mother's; the flavor is so dull and faded. I miss my Mother, everything about her. A pain, so intense that I nearly double over, fills my body. Everything hurts. Without her I am lost. She was always there to guide me in the right direction and now, I feel so lost. I have made too many wrong turns. Silently I cry, wiping away my plentiful tears with a paper napkin. My mind keeps wandering to memories of her and I. Cooking together, helping me with school, lying side by side, as I fall asleep. My body is drowning in sadness; my heart crumbling to pieces and that one piece that had a spot for my Mother falls away.

I finish my meal alone, returning the dishes to the front and then going back to my bed before anyone else is finished. There, I cry; burying my face in an old shirt of hers. I still have it with me from that one day, the day she died. I let down my guard for one moment, let myself be scared and in that instant, she was taken down.

"Emma, are you okay?" Jamie's voice comes to my ears as he taps on my shoulder. I look up, shocked, and nod my head, wiping my tears away. I smile as I take him into my embrace.

"They let you out," I say. My mind is grateful that he is back in my sight where I can keep him safe.

"Well, they kept me in this tiny room. It wasn't that bad. I got food and water and they gave me these stupid comic books to shut me up. I just really wanted to find you," I hold him closer and then ask about the others, "They took us all to separate rooms. Diana was in the one beside me but when they took me out, when I begged them to free her, they wouldn't let her go." He goes quiet, his breathing stops as he tries to hold in his tears.

"It's okay bud, I've got you right here and you know what?" He looks up at me, shaking his head, "They're going to let her go really soon."


"You promise Em?" he searches for reassurance.

"I do. Why don't you go up to the front and get yourself some food?" He walks to the line up. I watch him the entire way; waiting patiently in line, thanking the worker and returning back here. I'm glad that he hasn't forgotten his manners through the chaos of the world.

"This stuff looks like crap," he says quietly with a giggle.

"I know, but it's all they have to spare. Be grateful that your belly will be full at the end of the night," I playfully poke him.

He laughs and then turns back to his food, chowing it down faster than me. I smile. I'm glad to have him back in my life.

I set up the bed next to mine, politely asking a lady where I could get bedding. When he lies down, I put my bed closer, nearly right next to his. "Goodnight," we exchange the words and then, turning onto our backs, we fall asleep. He drifts off first, his breathing going even; his hands resting peacefully over his belly. I stare at the bare ceiling, counting the tiles, then the lights. This system allows my mind to focus only on one thing, not all of the arising problems of the world.

Just as I shut my eyes and relax, a sturdy hand taps my shoulder. I turn to my side, bracing my body upwards and stare at the figure. It's all dressed in black clad armor, "Miss, if you would please follow us."