Chapter 30 #2
Avoiding the broken glass and debris on the floor, I click on my torch as we make our way through the abandoned reception area. The reception desk has been left empty, patient charts just laying out in the open while the chairs have been ripped open and the springs removed.
This would have been cleared out years ago by the people left in the cities of before.
It’s been fifteen years since the new order took to the streets and killed over half the population, but in the weeks leading up to it, the cities had become feral.
Everyone was killing each other for food, water.
Kids lay dead in the streets from starvation.
I can never unsee what I saw walking down the street that day. I was only a kid myself, and I had to watch my friends die of starvation, or the murder of a junkie who was forced to go cold turkey.
But now, anyone left not moved into the Zones would see the broken windows, the empty beds, the empty cupboards, and move on. It’s the perfect cover for The Academy to bring Darlia, maybe more.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine. The realisation that Darlia probably isn’t the only girl here, being tortured and abused, all for having humanity.
I point up the staircase and Bella nods, following closely behind me as we make our way over to the staircase. Clicking off my torch, I allow the moonlight to lead the way as we start to climb up the staircase.
We keep our steps careful, making sure not to make any more noise than necessary by stepping on glass or something else that would alert anyone we’re here.
We don’t have the manpower to give them time to call for backup; the element of surprise is our best cover right now.
The stairs are brutal. We slowly make our way up each floor one by one.
By the fourth floor, the moonlight stops helping us make our way through inconspicuously.
Wrapping the touch around an old bandage from the ground, I click it on again, allowing the bandage to dim the light enough to not make it obvious we’re here.
Just as we’re about to go up the next flight of stairs, I hear a set of voices coming down the hall. On instinct, I click off the torch and pull Bella towards the wall with me, covering her mouth to muffle her startled gasp and shield her with my body, just in case.
Two doctors walk past wearing white lab coats and dressed in white jumpsuits.
One of the doctors is older, his hair white and thinned.
The older doctor carries a clipboard in one hand and some device in the other, clearly Academy-issued.
The other doctor is following like a lapdog.
She’s younger, but not young, mid-thirties with dark brown, shoulder-length hair, she almost looks familiar. For a moment, I try to place her.
“PX-3 and PX-28. Genius, sir. That’s going to finalize her re-education.”
“I’m not so sure, but we will give it time. Keep PX-3 isolated for two days. If they don’t kill each other, lower the room temperature to seven degrees,” the older one answers, clearly in charge, while the woman nods.
PX-3. My heart stops. They’re talking about Darlia. Bella’s eyes widen, clearly catching on. I remove my hand from her mouth, allowing her to whisper, “PX-28 is Lauren.”
My blood turns cold. Lauren is alive? Here?
Fuck, what have they done?
I can’t hold myself back anymore. Breaking through the door, I unsheathe my knife and grab the older doctor, holding him to the wall as I raise my blade to his neck.
“Where is she?” I growl, anger vibrating through my veins unlike anything I’ve felt before.
They have tortured Darlia for a month, and they included Lauren in that, too?
I already know they used Lauren to hurt Darlia, or worse, force her to submit to whatever fucked up things they wanted to do to her.
I look down to the name badge on his white coat. Doctor Langdon. I press my knife harder against his neck. The blade breaks skin, but only slightly. “Tell me where she is, now.”
The female doctor starts trying to run away, probably to call for backup, but Bella is on her faster than she can move. Within seconds, the other doctor is pinned to the wall along with her mentor.
Doctor Langdon points down a hallway with a shaking hand towards the sign that says Psychiatric Ward. “D-down there,” he stutters, his body trembling as the knife presses in deeper, the fear making him piss himself.
How fucking pathetic.
I lower my knife, and instead shoot him and the other one in the stomach. I let them die the slow death they deserve before running down the hall.
On the other side of the double doors are two soldiers waiting with pistols, but Bella and I take them out quickly before we both walk down the hall towards the double doors. There’s a hanging sign above the door. Psychiatric Ward.
Running inside reveals what feels like an endless line of doors on both sides of the hall. Jesus, are there people in every single one of them? There are at least thirty rooms on either side, and Bella was right earlier, we don’t have long.
“You take left, I’ll check right!” Bella yells, not waiting for me to respond as she runs off, already beginning to kick open doors on her side of the hall. I follow behind her, opening every door I can on the left side.
It’s a small miracle that the first five rooms are empty. At least that’s five girls not being tortured, but Darlia is and she is here.
The next six doors have bodies. One looks to be a guard, his legs covered in blood like they were cut, and the others are workers. Not doctors, but assistants, maybe? They’re all wearing the same white jumpsuit.
Just as I begin losing hope, starting to think the doctor lied to me, I see the sight that makes my stomach drop.
Lying down on the white padded floor is Lauren with her throat slit open, and Darlia under her with a knife in her side. Both of them lay in a pool of their blood, but only Darlia is breathing shallow breaths. Fuck.
“Darlia!” I fall down to her side, trying to open the jumpsuit, but the knife is lodged in the jumpsuit fabric. I won’t be able to take it out without making her bleed out.
“Bella! She’s in here!”
I push Lauren’s body off Darlia, laying her down flat and making sure the knife doesn’t hit anything else. The handle is thick, probably a military knife, making the blade anywhere from six to eight inches.
Unzipping Darlia’s jumpsuit just enough to try and see the damage, the knife is still lodged in her side.
Judging by the amount of blood dripping out of the wound and pooled around them, they would’ve already been like this for at least ten to twenty minutes, which means the knife didn’t hit anything major, or else she would’ve been dead in minutes.
Darlia not removing the knife might have saved her life.
Her eyes flutter. I know she’s not here right now. Her mind will be elsewhere while her body tries to cope with the pain. Her skin is pale and clammy, her breathing is all fucked up, only coming in short gasps.
Adrenaline rushes through me as I throw the assault rifle to the ground, searching for anything to pack the wound with. It’s a fucking hospital, there has to be something. “Bella! I need a bandage, something!”
“Don’t you dare give up, Darlia. I’m here, you hear me? I’m here.” I lift her up into my arms, being so fucking careful of the knife while walking down the hall to the surgical room I found during the search and placing her on the bed.
Bella runs in with Marcus and the rest of my men, but my only focus is Darlia. My Darlia.
“Come on baby, live. Live so you can hit me and yell at me, just fucking hold on.” I’m almost sure she can’t hear me, but I talk to her anyway. Praying by some miracle it’s enough to make her fight, to know we’re here.
Bella hands me a bandage still wrapped in plastic packaging. I rip it open instantly.
“Marcus, go find someone able to fix her. Shoot them if you have to. They don’t need legs, just hands.”
Walking over to the chest fridge to the side of the bed, I run to hang up the fluid bag, drawing the IV and attaching it to Darlia’s arm. She needs everything she can get if she’s going to survive this.
“Weston, attach her to every fucking machine possible. I want to know what her fucking everything is.”
Without blinking, he attaches the heart and oxygen monitor, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around her arm. I watch her heart rate on the screen; 42BPM and dropping fast. Fuck.
“Come on baby, fight for me.” My voice breaks. I want to shake her awake, show her we found her, that we’re here, for her to fight.
I’m a mess. Tears creep down my cheeks as I walk over to the other side of the room, opening the cabinets and putting on some gloves before grabbing a stitch kit.
“Everyone but Bella, out.”
As soon as the door closes, I remove the knife and Darlia’s jumpsuit completely, exposing her wounds. For a moment, I’m frozen in horror. Across her skin are hundreds of new scars, new burns, bruises, and cuts that haven’t had a chance to heal yet.
What the fuck did they do to her?
Grabbing the towel Bella passes to me, I place it over her chest so Darlia is not completely exposed before I get to work packing in the wound. “It’s a clean cut, it’s going to be easy to stitch. The main worry is internal bleeding.”
Unwrapping the bandage, I start to pack the wound as much and as tight as possible. We need a fucking surgeon to fix whatever happened to Darlia, and while I have many skills, that is not one of them.
“She has another cut on her arm, my side.”
“You know how to close it up?” Bella nods, gently pulling Darlia’s arm out of the jumpsuit and stitching it closed. Both of us are working to save her as quickly as possible.
“Come on, baby, come on. Stay with me, stay with me.”