Cascade

Chapter 6

I'm roughly out of my sleep by gloved hands. They yank me out of bed and drag me out of my house. They drag me down the dirt road, not even allowing me to walk. People stare as the men drag me down the street.

I look up at my captors. Just like I was forewarned yesterday, the guards have come for me. I have to admit this was not what I expected. They are dressed in all black with guns in their holsters at their hips, and masks on their faces.

Then for the first time since I got here, I can see the wall in full, as we approach the foot of it. It's about a hundred feet tall and made of sleek smooth cream-colored stone, with no vines crawling up its surface. At the top, with barbed wire separating us and them, stand more guards with huge riffles in their hands. There is no hope of escape. No hope.

We stop at the foot of the wall, where there is a set of heavy, solid metal sliding doors, secured with a fancy electric lock. One of the guards standing behind me steps in front and swipes a card in front of the wall. It beeps and the little red light turns green. The doors swing open and the guards drag me inside.

Inside the walls are pristine and white. There are long hallways, and heavily secured lab rooms with beeping machines and hospital beds with black leather restraint straps with metal buckles. There are people everywhere; pushing medical carts, running machines, and working on other patients. The other patients are mostly in terrible shape. Blue-tinted skin, covered in blisters, and huge maniac smiles plastered on their faces. Some look like me. You couldn't even tell they were sick. They sit in large chairs in the hallways as doctors pull tubes of blood from their arms.

The guards pull me into a large room, the walls lined with hospital beds and their restraints. The room is empty of people. The guards pick me up and dump me on a bed, strapping me down. A nurse lady steps in as the guards leave. She sticks a needle in my arm and hooks me up to an IV drip. She sits down beside me with a clipboard and a pen.

In a soft smooth American accent, she asks me: "What is your family name?"

"Choi."

"Given name?"

"Ara."

"Age?"

"Twenty-Two."

The lady brushes her russet hair behind her ear as she leans forward to get a blood sample from my arm. She makes more notes before standing, putting the clipboard on a hook at the foot of my bed, and leaving the room.

I was left alone for probably thirty minutes, but it felt like hours of nothing to do but stare at the ceiling.

Then there are voices and someone else is led into the room. I crane my neck to see. I spot the dark hair and blink in surprise.

Miles walks in with a guard on each of his arms. They let him sit on the bed before stopping him in. Why does he get to walk in, and why does he not get plopped onto the bed like I was? Do they like him that much more? A clipboard's already at the foot of his bed, even before he sits down. He picks up his head like I did and smirks at me.

"I told you I'd be here," He says. He must have picked up on my surprise. "Once you're here for as long as I have, they get very interested in you. They test you every few days." He leans his head back on the pillow. "I hate it when other people are in here though. The screaming is terrible."

My eyes widen. The screaming? What kind of tests are these?

Miles leans his head sideways. "Welcome to the Testing Wing. All those other rooms are for people who are too sick to be out with the rest of us. Those who are driven insane in here might hurt the rest of us. Yeah, cause they're concerned about us getting hurt, but not us getting killed. Totally not contradicting themselves," he says sarcastically.'