Doctored Chance #NaNoWriMo2019

24 | Waning Chances

Tobias, wide-eyed, pressed his hands over his mouth and nose as the door of the broom closet flung open. It slammed against the wall outside and a white beam ran across his covers. Tobias squeezed his eyes shut, shadows glancing through his eyelids. It was unlikely that the guard would be so diligent as to pick up the laboratory gear that covered him, but even the smallest chance was enough to steal the color and the warmth from every inch of the former hero's remaining pink flesh, leaving him pale and cold and shocked, but for that moment, at least, not shaking.

When the broom closet was closed again, he remained frozen, scarcely breathing, no longer recalling how to blink his eyes. His hands began to quake violently, his arms joining, fingers still glued over his lips, stuck. Even though the alarm, as Dizzy had promised, had gone silent many torturous seconds ago, Tobias could hear its wails echo in his ears, blaring like a police siren that for once in his life was not on his side.

"There is no one here," the guard grumbled, muted through the door and the howling of alarms imprinted in Tobias's mind, muted by his pounding heart and throbbing ears. "The alarm went off for all of, what, four seconds? If that? Was it just a blip in the system?"

"Looks like. Nothing on the cameras, here," a gravelly voice scratched through what was most likely a handheld radio. "That lab's restricted, though. There's some highly classified stuff in there. It would probably be best if you walked out and left it as if nothing happened. It looks as though HQ has been pinged—leave it to them."

"Roger."

Footsteps receded and the door out to the hall clicked quietly shut and locked with a mechanical whirr.

Tobias stared dead ahead at nothing at all, his mind whizzing a mile a minute. Team Defiance could arrive in anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes, and he saw they had a new member—an old member—that in one future glance sent his head spinning. He braced against the wall, feeling as if he were falling further and further from where and who he wanted to be. Falling, falling, vision spiraling in a chaotic kaleidoscope of possibilities as his concentration slipped and black spots fringed the edges of his vision.

Would she recognize him in his new disguise? His heart fluttered and he pressed a hand to his chest. He closed his eyes and began to accelerate the visions, retuning their perceived organization to ordered rows. This was complication. Viola Mae Reed was not part of the plan.

"Doctor?"

He jolted to his feet, clenching his jaw shut to stop the escape of a shout at the force of his scarred back hitting the wall. He grabbed a fistful of his hair. His visions sharpened.

"Doctor?" Dizzy repeated. "The guard is long gone. You're good to do your science-y stuff. Better get onto it quick, too, because I couldn't stop the signal to HQ, so—"

"The person on th-the security guard's radio. He didn't see me in the cameras?"

"I've been replacing all the feeds where the nightguard isn't with old recordings from their archives. I told you I would. Besides, technically, your face looks like Mr. Pinkerton's, who does have access to that lab. Right? You're luck you have the same color hair, too."

Tobias exhaled, shuddering. "Right." He pressed a hand over his heart. "But, I don't have I.D. And I have missing body parts, and I'm at least three inches taller than Pinkerton. And my hair's starting to curl again—I told you the hairspray—spray wouldn't---wouldn't last."

"Hey."

"What?"

"Calm down, Doc. I can hear your shaking from here. Aren't scientists supposed to have steady hands?"