Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 34: Specimen

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Lauren
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A tempest of terse emotions swarmed as I stared down at the corpse tied to the surgical table. It wasn't until the monitor next to the table beeped, displaying a slow charted heart rate by the bedside that I realized the truth, breathing out on a choppy exhale. Holy fuck, she was alive.

The girl was frighteningly bony, her complexion matching the color of a fish's underbelly. Her breathing was so shallow that I hadn't even noticed her chest rising slowly, a monitor reading her vitals steadily on her bedside.

Sitting on the medical table next to her were three bags filled with a thick dark purple sludge. Medicine? No.

Blood.

A chill slinked down my body, my palms growing cold and clammy. Whose was that? Hers? Were they experimenting on this poor girl, too? There were signs of others being held captive—the shouts of terror, the horrendous screams that kept me up at night, but now the truth was staring me right in the face. Fucking maniacs. The realization solidified my hatred for this place.

A wave of loathing and disgust pierced through the mental fog of sedatives. "How could you do this?" I hurled the accusation at the mob of white cowering in the corner. "Experimenting on people? Have you lost your fucking minds?"

Collecting her composure, Wells's dark brown gaze hardened behind her visor. "You are mistaken, Seven. What we are doing here is for the benefit of all humankind."

Her formal speech was dripping with so much vain detachment that I could not help but sneer. "You call that beneficial? Tormenting a poor girl by bleeding her dry? What is she, like sixteen?"

A man interrupted, this one stout with a greying beard and balding head. "We're not hurting her. This transference will save her."

"Save her?"

"Yes. We're scientists, not monsters. This girl is one of the many terminally ill patients from Riverside Methodist Hospital. When the attacks all started, we moved the most critical patients here for study. We were just about to administer the final results of all our hard work. A miracle antidote for the record books!" The baldy jabbered, waving his pale hands above his head for emphasis. "Imagine never getting sick. Cancer, heart disease, bacterial infections—you name it! This could cure every known illness on this planet. We could even unlock the secrets of immortality. With Six's blood, even the possibility of eternal life is within our reach!"

"Six?" Peter's inquiry fell flat after such a grand speech, resounding through the chamber while he frowned at the scientist. "You called him 'Seven' just now. Who is Six?"

"The alien female Killian—"

"Sheppard." The male doctor with green eyes and glasses cut in, voice razor-sharp. "Not another word."

Clamping his mouth shut, the balding scientist shifted on his feet uncomfortably, but the damage had been done.

Killian. That name sent a hot knife sinking into my gut like butter. My attention landed on the blood bags. Was that all . . . Synth's?

A haze of red gripped me so violently that I struggled to see straight, a blur of shapes and sounds fading in and out of focus. "You fucking monsters," I muttered, my hands shaking with the height of my anger. The overwhelming instinct to inflict pain on them all gnawed at my insides like a dog on a bone. "Where is she?"