The Enhanced

Chapter Three

When I wake, beeping is the first thing I hear. Loud, incessant beeping. My head already hurts and I roll my head onto the pillow to muffle the sound to no avail. After trying a few more positions I give up and stare at the ceiling. It's white and boring and I feel my mind itching to do something. Anything. I look around the room. It had white walls and a white floor. There's several machines hooked up to me and I feel suddenly very vulnerable. There's a chair next to my bed and also a small desk with a few magazines on it. The room feels too clean to be comfortable but clean was better than nothing. I toss and turn awkwardly in my bed trying to get comfortable.

"She's awake." A familiar voice calls. A nurse bustles in with a clip board and begins asking me questions. I tell her what I remember, how I feel, if my senses are okay and all the other million questions she continues to ask. After a few minutes, she leaves and Jones comes into view. He isn't wearing his usual hard expression but he isn't holding tenderness on his face either.

I give him a questioning look. "You took a bad injury out there. Are you sure you are okay?" He asks, almost worried. I roll over again.

"Fine." I reply easily.

"Surprised I made it to be honest. I've seen other people die of those injuries a lot quicker." I shrug my shoulders but regret the decision as all my muscles scream in pain at once. I wince and try to sit as still as possible. Jones takes a step forward. "Yeah?" I ask, becoming more confused.

He leans in and begins to tell me about what happened.  "We had the tracker on you.  You were running way too fast for any human. We were surprised that guy got as far as he did. It was almost unsettling to watch. Sierra has said it was simply the drug mixed with adrenaline but I don't know. And, if you'll look your bullet wound had completely healed."

I pull my gown up slightly to inspect my torso. I check all along my lower left abdomen but as he said, there was no bullet wound. Instead, in its place was a small red circle where it should have been. A scar. I look back up to him. "How long was I out?" I demand.

He thinks for a moment. "About two days." He replies.

But that was impossible. A bullet wound doesn't heal in two days. I should have died from those wounds, they should have killed me. And here I was only a few days later looking like new. With barely a scar left to show for my injuries. It was unfathomable. As I scramble around my stomach, my muscles tighten and I cry out in pain and lean back.

"What's wrong?" Jones asks, jumping forward.

"My muscles." I reply through gritted teeth. "They're contracting or something." I try to stay as still as possible but the pain continues to increase. I squirm in agony and Jones pushes a small red button by my bedside. A nurse appears almost instantly to see the problem. She turns to Jones for an explanation and he gives all that he can.

She then approaches me. "Okay, Juliet. This isn't normal or expected but I'm going to give you a few injections in your back to make you lose feeling in your body from the neck down basically. Okay?" She explains. I nod and she leaves.

A few minutes later the pain has reached an unbearably high point and Jones is standing in the corner unsure of what he should do. Eventually, the same nurse returns and lifts me so I'm sitting up. I feel every injection but they are nothing compared to my current pain.  She lays me back down and faces me. "So you'll probably feel drowsy for a few hours, I'm going to call in Sierra to see if she can understand what is going on here." The nurse says.

I nod slowly as the morphine sets in and the pain melts away in various parts of my body. Jones leaves for his daily duties but I'm not alone for long when Sierra McLane enters my room. The nurse lingers for only a few seconds before leaving silently. "Okay, Juliet." She says gently. Sierra was a relatively tall, slender woman with long brown hair that was always pulled back in a practical ponytail. Her soft brown eyes hid most emotions and she had a soft voice that, although it was completely staged, was still immediately calming.