Oompa Loompa Takeover

Chapter 11

XI

"I OFFER MYSELF WILLINGLY TO THE SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH OF DR. KORDATA!" Gerald cried.

All work ceased. The room went silent.

"I will give myself willingly! If he will just spare Calvin, the little boy."

The guards looked at each other in confusion and wonder, none of them sure what to do. But Gerald now knew (thanks to Wonka) that even if the Doctor had not been able to hear his proclamation from behind the closed doors, that he would pick it up in seconds from the others telepathically.

On cue, the Doctor burst from the operating room, and pushed his goggles back onto the top of his head. His gaze immediately fell to Gerald, the only person that was standing up on his workstation.

Gerald's hands were shaking, he clenched them into fists and they were still. "Well? Do we have a deal? You can do whatever you want to me, I don't care. Just let him go."

The Doctor looked him up and down, his eyes hard and unforgiving. Gerald stared back, his face bruised, unflinchingly determined, and infuriated.

At last, the Doctor took a step back from the railing and nodded his head. He would accept.

Gerald got down from the table and allowed himself to be taken by the Oompa Loompas. He looked back, his eyes first settling upon Mabelynne's face, whose jaw was set. She nodded, a sign of approval and trust in him.

Then he quickly stole a glance at where Miles was hidden.

And he winked.

"He winked! That motherfucker!" Miles whispered in awe.

"What? What's going on?" Wonka demanded through his earpiece. They didn't have radio communication with Gerald as he had taken out his earpiece just in case someone was to look closely at him.

"He winked at me." Miles was grinning. "He's got a plan. I can't believe it, he came up with a plan!"

Wonka snorted. "He came up with a plan? Yeah, he probably just got help from one of the slaves."

Miles didn't care either way, he was excited and anxious for some action.

Gerald blinked in an attempt to get his eyes to adjust as the double doors clicked shut behind him, cutting him off from the others. The room before him was dimly lit, and longer than it was wide. The sides were lined with hand-drawn diagrams and instruments whose purpose baffled him. At the end of the room, under the beams of fluorescent lights, was the operating table where the little boy Calvin was being unstrapped.

The boy was shaking. Then he noticed Gerald's presence and his terrified eyes found Gerald's.

"It's okay." Gerald promised. "They're going to let you go." He attempted to give the kid an encouraging smile.

They lifted Calvin from the table and placed him on his feet. He looked up at Gerald, his tear stained face red, and for a second, he hesitated. Gerald raised his eyebrows and indicated the door with his head. "Go."

Calvin flat out ran from the room and burst out into the factory. Gasps and cries of "Calvin!" erupted from the workers. Then the doors swung closed, silencing them.

Gerald turned to find himself confronted with the Doctor. With a finger, the Doctor indicated that it was time for him to get on the operating table. Heart beating a mile a minute, Gerald went to the table. It was an off-white color, with chains and cuffs hanging from each corner. The chains fit into slots on the edge, making it adjustable so that it could be used on people of different height. It was also toddler height, so the Doctor could easily have access to the patient. Gerald promptly noticed that the top of the table was marred with cuts and saw marks from where the Doctor's instruments had made it through the patient and cut into the table. The whole thing smelled strongly of cleaning products. But even the chemicals couldn't eliminate the underlying scent of blood and decay that surrounded the area. Trying not to chuck, Gerald turned his back to it and lowered himself down to sit.