Missing Streams

Veins of Piss and Vinegar - 30

"Simon, you're in charge." I crossed my arms, "Me and my fake ear will be the test dummy. Tear me open until you find the chip. Just don't slice off my ear or anything."

Simon grinned, "Lighting never strikes the same place twice."

I snorted, then turned to sit on the cot, "I know it's like two in the morning, but let's do this."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" James obviously thought it wasn't.

"Our best bet is to do it at night when no one will think to check on us." Simon explained, although he was starting to get uneasy.

"And I am way too excited to go to sleep right now." I grinned, folding my hands into fists, "Come on, let's get started!"

Simon sighed, but headed towards a cupboard of equipment anyways, "If you insist."

***

"Hold still now, okay? I'm about to start."

Simon had a hand wrapped around the side of my head to hold it still, and had a needle poised next to my head. He insisted on finding evidence of it before cutting, which did make sense. There was a towel on my shoulder to catch any blood and Simon had applied some kind of anesthetic to the side of my face. The left side of my mouth was drooping slightly and I couldn't feel the left side of my head. He'd used a little too much.

"I'm ready for it." I grinned with my side of my mouth that wasn't frozen and gave him a thumbs up.

"Well, here I go."

We remained quiet until Simon spoke up again, "Okay, I think I've got something. I don't think it's a bone. I'm gonna try and get it out."

"Go ahead."

***

"Fuck, I hope there isn't any internal bleeding." I bit my lip as I forced the skin of my stomach together, "I can't do anything about that."

Sam looked at me with scared eyes, "Do you think there is?"

I forced a grin for her, "Nah, I'll be fine."

She forced a smile back as I eased the needle through my skin, holding my breath so I didn't move. This wasn't my first time stitching myself up, and I wasn't about to teach Sam how to do it.

Instead she watched, ready to help as I gritted my teeth and pulled tight the first stitch of my wound.

***

"I think I've got it." Simon spoke carefully, as if he might screw something up. He probably could, "I'm switching to tweezers to pull it out. If it doesn't give easily, then I'll leave it be. Okay?"

"You're the doctor." I grinned, "Go ahead and fix me."

"I'll do my best." He laughed nervously.

James smiled at me as if to remind me he's there, but he was probably just trying to ignore the blood soaking through the towel.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Simon was holding my head still, but I helped where I could. This was one such time.

I heard something hit the ground, and Simon let out a shaky laugh. Instead of turning and looking at him - which would probably make a mess - I looked ahead at James, "Did you get it?"

"I got it." Simon laughed again, handing something to James, "You were right, there was a chip there. I can't believe it."

James held his hand out to me, a grin accompanying a look of disbelief. In his hand was a small, pale blue capsule. That was what kept us here, that tiny stupid chip that they had put behind our ears.

You have to clean behind your ears, don't you?

***

Simon had stitched me up, but it only took one stitch. We hoped the wound was small enough no one would notice it.

Until then we had bigger fish to fry.

"What should we do with it?" James held the chip up to his eye, as if he could see anything, "Destroy it so they can't track us?"

"No way." Simon shook his head.

"They can probably tell if it gets destroyed." I added, happy I wasn't the one to suggest we destroy it, "I guess we'll just keep it around, huh?"

"Yeah, but keep it on you." Simon shot me a glare like I was about to ignore his instructions, "You-"

"I'm not an idiot." I sneered, snatching the chip from James, "I know the gps will keep working. I'll keep in in my pocket. Happy?"

Simon nodded, but didn't say anything.

***

I pulled on my tank top and checked to make sure the chip was secured in my bra. After a few minutes I didn't trust the chip to stay in my pocket, especially during classes.

The changeroom was still empty like it was the day I got here. I wondered what it was like in the other changeroom, then decided I didn't want to know.

I looked at myself in the mirror, brushing a hand through my hair. It was long enough that I didn't look like a balding middle aged man, and more like a lesbian who was a little too enthusiastic about getting a pixie cut.

It was a good look.

I pushed open the door to leave the changeroom and nearly decked James back to the seventies. Apparently he was waiting for me.

"What is it?" I didn't waste time apologizing for the door since it wasn't really my fault.

"Wexler's a bit... calm today. Class might change a bit." James looked over his shoulder, as if Wexler was about to appear and tell him off.

"All for the better." I grinned and punched him, "I was starting to get bored. You can only do more pushups than anyone in the room for so long."

"We'll definitely be done with that kind of stuff."

***

Wexler looked high as fuck. I guessed someone had gotten him off booze and put him on something else. I couldn't tell if it was any better.

"We've been missing class a lot lately, but today we can treat as if we're starting a new unit. We'll make today's classes a bit more relaxed than usual, and take it easy as we start changing our habits."

No one said anything, probably because we were all equally dumbfounded. Wexler was never one to speak below a forte, even if he was sober. Now he sounded like a cross between a kindergarten teacher and an opiate addict. Maybe that was his latest fix, I couldn't tell.

I wasn't the only one quickly getting tired of his schtick, "When will we be done with this faggotry?"

It was Xavier. Who'da guessed? "As soon as you get a girlfriend." I scoffed back at him.

"Look who's talking, fag." He sneered at me.

"Boo hoo, at least I've gotten more action with a girl than you have." I stuck out my tongue at him, wondering when he would attack me.

"I can't believe this faggot." Xavier's second-in-command laughed at me.

"Wow, real original. Honestly, I applaud you." If sarcasm was money, I'd be a rich white man.

"You should just shut your whore mouth." Xavier snarling, tensing his muscles.

"Of course, a fine lady such as myself shouldn't be so vulgar." I giggled, watching him fume even more, "Do you suggest I go work in the kitchen? Or should I kick your ass so hard your nuts end up where your brains should be?"

"Please, don't-" Wexler started, but he was cut off by Xavier letting out some sort of war cry and lunging at me.

I braced myself for the impact of his tackle, but nothing came of it. I blinked and realized why.

Wexler had lunged as well. He was holding Xavier on the ground, hands around his throat. Xavier was losing oxygen fast.

Damn shame, that was.