Playlist for the Apocalypse

Chapter 27: Cold as Ice

JONATHAN

Since his mother had gotten sick and he'd stopped being allowed to visit, there were many nights when Jonathan would get blackout drunk and wake up with a mind fog so severe he'd forget where he was. Somehow, he knew, even before opening his eyes, that this was a different kind of morning.

The symptoms were relatively the same. There was the ever-present ringing in his ear and the dry feeling in his mouth that made deep breaths feel like fire running down his throat. There was also the pressure behind his eyes, like a dull ache that radiated around his temples. His body was cold and clammy, and he was aware that he was shaking even beneath the sheets that someone had laid over him. But, unlike waking up from some drunken night, the sensation of it was all wrong.

He knew pain, but this was different... because there wasn't any.

An indescribable numbness seemed to flatten him against the bed like a weighted blanket. It crushed against his chest making it difficult to breathe, pressed down on his muscles making it hard to move and dragged down his eyelids making them impossible to open. It felt as if a pins and needles sensation was radiating over his whole body.

The ringing was becoming impossible to ignore, so even though he knew it wouldn't help, he reached up to touch his left ear. He'd barely brushed the skin with his fingers, when his tired arm dropped clumsily back to the bed as if his brain somehow forgot how to transmit the message properly. With difficulty he managed to force his eyes open. The world was a blurry mess of white blobs. Jonathan had never needed to wear glasses before and for a dazed moment, he wondered if this was the way Evie saw the world.

Evie.

Something about her, even just the thought of her, sent adrenaline shooting through his system and his vision cleared. He was lying on a metal-frame cot, shoved in the corner of a small square-shaped room. There was a plastic desk and chair across the room to his right, which oddly featured a notebook and a box of crayons. The three white walls that surrounded him were completely bare apart from a small window overlooking the city at a height that would probably be deadly to fall from. A large one-way mirror stood in place of the fourth wall directly across from the bed; the presence of it told him that the door that stood beside it was indubitably locked.

He tried to raise himself up on the bed to get a better look but as he tried to force his uncooperative muscles to obey, a robotic-sounding female voice echoed through the room.

"Jonathan. I need you to lie back down please."

He opened his mouth to speak but only a faint noise came out and he closed it again, trying to build up enough saliva to wet his tongue.

"Calm down." The voice commanded but Jonathan ignored it. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows before he noticed a warm, wet liquid moving down his arm.

"You pulled out your IV." The voice told him, revealing that whoever was speaking could read the confusion on his face. As he watched the trail of blood lazily trace down his arm, the events of the previous day slowly began to creep back into focus. He remembered Jaycee giving him the keys to the jeep, going to the bookstore with Evelyn, being attacked and racing back to the compound only to find that they were... waiting for them.

"What's going on?" He demanded, finally finding his voice. He turned his attention to the one-way mirror, "What are you doing to me? Where's—"

There was a muffled sound, and he realized that whoever was on the other side of the mirror was no longer listening.

"Make a note," he heard them saying, "I think we can all agree that the effects wore off more quickly than expected. We will need to up the dosage for the next round."