Inner Workings

Inner Workings - Part 55

Louis woke slowly, the ache in his ribs growing with his awareness. The bruises grew like an untended itch. Eyes closed he took stock of his limbs. His left arm lay dead at his side, a weight on it from forearm to knuckle. A cast? His other arm lay along his other side and his legs were together, straight as a pin from hip to toe. He was laid out on a semi-soft surface like a corpse neatly tucked into a coffin. He'd seen enough people in coffins to not want to feel like that.

The air vibrated a rhythm. Was he in a car? It felt familiar.

Louis curled a hand to his aching head. He remembered the back of a Med Van, getting his hand looked at. The day's beatings had caught up to him and he'd passed out.

For how long?

His eyes cracked open to a blaring white chamber with light tubes banded along a too close ceiling.

Light.

Shit!

Louis closed his eyes like a bear trap, tight and furious, and jackknifed on the bed, nearly smacking himself in the face as he covered his eyes with the cast-bound arm. Orange afterimage blobs floated behind his eyelids as he padded his pockets for his shades. He was stripped down to t-shirt and jeans in a place with light as bright as the desert and he didn't have his shades. After a moment he recognized the vibrations echoing off the walls and light tubes. He was in a BT.

A brightly lit BT.

Was he at Watch Two already and Rachel had him in the BT-10? The huge-ass, death trap of a BT? He gulped a breath.

Nothing to worry about. He'd call Cetz or Rachel and they'd get him out. Will would get him coffee and he'd...

Will wouldn't be there with coffee. Not anymore. Didn't matter, he had two hands, kind of. He could get his own coffee.

As long as he didn't end up Tom Thumb sized.

He rubbed at his neck, a prickling ache as light leached under his skin. No wonder he felt scratchy all over; a little more light and he'd end up tripping his trigger.

"Cetz?" Louis reached for the edge of the bed and set his bare feet on the floor. If he kept his eyes shut he didn't feel so confined. But he could still feel the BT's vibrations, scanning him inside and out.

Louis checked his ear. The SkySprecht was gone too.

"Rachel?" He got up and put his hand to the walls, feeling around for the door handle like someone looking for a light switch in the dark. "This isn't funny."

"Maybe a little funny."

Louis straightened up. He knew that voice; he could hear the self satisfied smirk from seeing Louis paw around frantic. "Justin."

"Looking for these?"

Louis turned towards the voice, but didn't open his eyes. He held out his hand, a demanding claw. "Hand it over."

A huff. "Tell me what I'm holding?"

"Just give it to me!"

Louis heard steps getting closer and he briefly played with the idea of smacking Justin in the face while blind. Then he felt his shades in his hand. He put them on, able to safely see, and backed away from his former partner. The BT chamber was bigger than he expected, but still confining, another small cot sat opposite of Louis, and on wall made of mirrors. If there was a door handle to get out, he couldn't see it. Every BT at Watch Two had an emergency exit labeled in bright red. This one didn't.

This was Watch One.

"What's up with your eyes, man?" Justin leaned casually against a mirror with a wince. "Jack off too many times?"

"None of your business," Louis snapped. "Where am I?"

"Containment room, Watch One."

"What day is it?"

"Saturday." Justin glanced at his watch. "12:31 AM."

Louis had been unconscious for longer than he thought. "When are they letting us out?"

"Better be soon."

"Where are my things? My communicator, my jacket, my shoes."

"Don't know. Don't care."

Louis rocked on his heels, stamping down the instinct to pace and count the steps around his prison. "And you're here because your tender heart wanted to make sure I woke up okay?"

"I wouldn't care if you woke up face first in a plumber's ass cleavage. I was ordered to stay with you." Justin winced again, rubbing at his chest, bulky from bandages under his shirt. "I got shot wearing a vest yesterday. I'd rather be in Med Tech, with painkillers and a hot nurse to tuck me in, than here."

Louis snorted. "Whine, whine. Will got shot while wearing a vest made of bathroom tile. He got right back up and stabbed the guy that shot him."

Justin's eyebrows lifted as he sunk to his cot with a groan. "I think that's the most complimentary thing I've heard you say about anyone."

"Don't get used to it." Louis counted six even steps from wall to mirror. It hurt to walk, muscles protesting each step, but he didn't want to be still in an enclosed space. Then he got a very good look at his face in the mirror. Even with shades on he could see dark purple splotches creeping from his jaw to the swell of his cheek. He wouldn't want to be in the same room with a face like that.

He held up the heavy cast around his left hand. "What's the deal with this?"

"Something about stress on your knuckles and tendons."

Louis nodded, remembering the tight crush of floss around his hand as he was dragged out of Will's throat.

Hot, confining. Closing in like the white walls.

Nope. Keep it together around Justin. It'd be easier if he could stay alert. He could feel the light pricking on his bare arms and he crossed them, ducking his head away from the walls. Even the floor was white. Waking up in a BT named "containment room" was not a good sign. If he was injured enough to warrant a BT scan they would have done it with a hand held BT and kept him in a Med Tech bed.

So why the room? Medical observation?

"Don't supposed we could get coffee in here?" said Louis.

"No coffee, no stimulants, and no pain meds while contained," grumbled Justin. "Something about bio-acclimation tests or something. I wasn't really paying attention after they said I had to stay in here with you after the long-ass flight."

The hairs on the back of Louis' neck stood on end. "Tests?"

"Yeah. "Test partner" or something." Justin glared in Louis' direction as he lay on the cot. "Which better be fuckin' temporary. Cause lemme tell ya, if I had my darts, I'd be in prime condition for a game with a moving target."

Louis filtered out Justin's aggravation as his gut chilled to ice and his skin warmed to desert sand. Watch One, with its little posse of scientists eager for a piece of him to stick under a microscope, locked him in a BT with bright light.

They wanted a show for their scanners with Justin as the partner for their "tests".

Justin jerked up from the cot as Louis' fist connected with one of the mirrors.

"Get me the hell out of here you sick bastards!"