27
Carrie opened her eyes slowly. She was groggy, like she had just woken from the deepest of deep sleeps. For a moment she thought she was back on Earth, in the spare bedroom at her father’s holiday villa in Florida. She looked up at the lights on the ceiling, but they looked different. She blinked heavily, wondering what the beeping noises were. Then she focused her eyes on Colt’s sleeping face. She was still on the Aurora.
She went to roll onto her back, and suddenly felt the weight of her head, although it hadn’t seemed to be throbbing until she turned. She tried to push herself over with her arm, but it hurt, as did her back. She groaned aloud in pain, fell onto her back, then closed her eyes again. After a few seconds she heard a noise and opened her eyes again. Harris stood in the doorway, and he started toward her.
“Y’alright?” he asked quietly.
“I just …” she said with a little difficulty, then swallowed to clear her throat, “I couldn’t turn over.”
She saw him eyeing the bruised side of her body.
“But you’re okay, now?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
“Alright. Well, you need anything, just call out.” He turned to walk away.
“Captain,” she called, although it was not as loud as she planned.
He paused.
“Thank you …,” she said. “For coming back … for saving me.”
Harris eyed her for a moment, as a humble expression washed over him. She studied the bruises on his face and wondered how his ribs were.
“No problem, corporal,” he said. “Thank you for coming to get me, too.”
She managed a half smile. “I didn’t save you though.”
Harris pursed his lips and shook his head. “No, but you distracted them so that I could get away. If you hadn’t come back, I’d still be there. So, I guess we saved each other.”
She blinked heavily and gave him another half smile. She noticed he wasn’t using his captain’s voice. He’d put away the formalities and was showing her a piece of himself unconstrained by his uniform. She recalled seeing Harris with his gun, and the relief she’d felt. She hadn’t recognized the room they’d held her in from any of the footage she’d seen, but somehow Harris had found her.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
He eyed her again for a moment, then glanced over at McKinley’s bed. “Doc and McKinley armed a tracking device on your headset in case you got caught. So I guess technically they saved you,” he shrugged. “Doc just guided me where to go from the flight deck.”
“Where is he?” she asked.
“Doc? Getting some much needed sleep,” he said, his captain’s voice returning, “And you should get some more, too, corporal,” he ordered.
She nodded, closed her eyes, and heard him walk away.
*
Harris walked back into Doc’s office with a plate of food. Doc had just come back on shift and was in the hospital checking on his patients, but soon joined him to eat, sitting down at his desk.
“You going to call them soon?” Doc asked. “Command?”
Harris nodded. “Right after this. Packham said they’ve been trying to make contact. I can’t hold off any longer.”
“You think they’ll send Martin’s ship to intercept us? Or send another one?”
“Hopefully another. I think Martin will be keen to check on the station. If they send another one for us, they’ll send the nearest ship, which means it could be at any moment. That’s why I’ve been stalling, but I know our window of goodwill is closing fast. They’ll be tracking us and wondering why we’re not responding to their contact.”
“Should I start waking them up, in there,” Doc motioned to the hospital, “so they know what’s going on?”
Harris shook his head. “Hunter and Colt have been out for half of it. There’s not much information they can provide. But I would like a talk with Welles and McKinley. Once the UNF get a hold of us, we’ll be separated and quarantined. If they put us through the correct channels we’ll be locked in a debriefing room for god knows how long after that, under guard. That is, if they handle us legit.”
He exchanged a concerned look with his lieutenant.
“How classified do you think this mission was?” Doc asked, eyes narrowing slightly. “You think Welles was right? Do you think there’ll be some friendly faces when we get back?”
Harris shrugged at him. “I don’t really know. I can’t see them advertising the fact that they used their own men as bait for an experiment. I think this was probably on a need-to-know basis, and not many people needed to know. But until we know who we can trust, we need to toe the line like good, obedient little soldiers. If we do, then they won’t see us as a threat, and we’ll be safe. Hopefully it's only a few who fucked us over, Doc. And not the whole UNF itself.”
Doc nodded in agreement, although his face still showed concern.
Harris let out a big sigh and stood. “What I want to know most, is where Colonel Isaack stands in all of this. It’s time I call Command.”
*
Harris waited for the screen to connect.
“Captain Harris, finally!” Isaack greeted him sternly. “You’re aware we’ve been tracking you for the past ten hours? Do you care to explain why your ship has left the Darwin without orders to do so, nor any request from yourself? And why haven't you responded to our comms?”
“Where’s Professor Martin?” Harris asked clenching his jaw.
“Answer my question, captain. And what happened to your face? I’ve got a lot of important people here wanting an explanation, so you’d better start giving me the fuckin’ answers.”
Harris tried to control the anger bubbling inside him, “I’ll explain myself, colonel, but first I would like you to explain why you sent us there to be slaughtered. Or why you sent three female recruits there to take part in an experiment they had not given their consent to.”
Isaack momentarily looked confused, but quickly regained his composure. “Captain, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, nor do I like your tone. Your team were sent there to resolve comms issues, which I might remind you, you have failed to do. Your ship has also been off the contact radar for almost twenty-four hours and on top of that you’ve left your post without authorization and I need a damn good explanation as to why.”
Good soldier, Saul. Be a good soldier. Hold it in.
“Colonel Isaack, four of my men are dead. First Sergeant Carter, Staff Sergeant Bolkov, Sergeant Louis and Private First Class Smith. The crew of the Darwin are responsible for this. I also have four injured soldiers: Second Lieutenant McKinley, First Sergeant Hunter, and Corporals Colt and Welles. The crew of the Darwin are also responsible for this.”
“What? Four men did all of this to your team of soldiers?” Isaack interrupted, his face showing signs of either confusion or anger. Harris couldn’t decide which.
“No, colonel. The rest of the Darwin crew were, in fact, still on the station, as I suggested.”
Isaack stared at Harris for a moment. The seconds passed. “How many casualties in the Darwin crew?”
“Seven.”
“Injured or dead?”
“Dead.”
Isaack stared at him again. There was something about his face that piqued Harris’s interest. Isaack was trying to keep a poker face, but Harris could tell from his eyes that this was all news to him.
“And what started this? The incident with Welles?” he asked, the harsh tone gone from his voice.
“No. The incident was a by-product of why we were really sent here.” Harris stared down the screen waiting to see what Isaack had to say to that.
A few seconds passed as Isaack’s mind ticked over. “Captain Harris, a UNF ship will reach you in approximately eight hours. You will let them board, and they will assume control of your ship and bring you back to base. You are to talk to no-one about this until we debrief. This is classified. You understand?”
“This UNF team you’re sending, is it their mission to silence us?”
Isaack’s face hardened. “The UNF team will bring you back to base alive, Harris. Now, I don’t know what the fuck happened up there, but I want a full debrief on this. Do you understand?”
“Where’s Martin?”
“On his way to the Darwin. Now, do you understand my order?”
Harris studied him, trying to judge his sincerity. “Yes, sir,” he said, trying to keep any emotion from his face, but struggling with the accusatory look in his eyes. “Answer me one thing, though, colonel?”
“What’s that?” Isaack eyed him sternly back.
“Why did you order me to keep the women on the ship?”
Isaack stared at him for what seemed like an age, before he finally answered. “We’ll discuss that upon your return, Harris.”
Isaack leaned forward, hit a button and the screen went dead.
*
Carrie heard the sounds of faint murmuring.
“Welles? Welles, it’s okay!”
She woke with a start and panicked when she saw someone standing over her. Instinctively, her hand shot up and held them at bay.
“It’s okay. It’s me.” Doc held his hands out, peacefully.
She looked down from his face to her hand, which was clenched in a fist, tightly grasping his shirt within it. She let it go.
“Sorry,” she said groggily, raising her hand to her head.
“You alright?”
She nodded and the tension eased off her shoulders.
“Some dream, huh?” he said, eyeing her carefully.
She blinked her eyes, trying to remember it, then decided she didn’t want to, as she pictured the terrifying faces of Chet and Logan. She looked back at Doc. “How long have I been asleep? Are we back on Earth yet?”
“No. We’re still a way off Earth. You’ve been sleeping on and off for about eighteen hours.”
“Jesus!”
“How’s your head?” he asked, flashing his light into her eyes again, making her shy away.
She lay there for a moment and concentrated. Her head was still sore, but not quite as heavy as it had been before, nor did it seem to throb as much.
“It’s okay. It feels more like a migraine now.”
Doc put the light back into his pocket. “Good.”
Just then she heard McKinley groan. Doc glanced over at him, then back to her. “I had to wake you both up,” he told her. “Command knows we’ve left the Darwin and another ship will intercept us in a few hours. Captain wants to talk to you before they do.”
Carrie nodded, then Doc walked over to McKinley. Harris entered the room with Brown by his side, and stood, hands on his hips, eyeing them all.
“How long?” Harris asked Doc impatiently.
“Just give them a few minutes to wake up,” he told him.
Harris hit the intercom button. “Packham? You hearing this?”
“Yes, sir,” her voice sounded over the PA.
Carrie watched as Harris turned back, bringing his hands up to hold his ribs.
“Fuuuuuck, Doc …” McKinley said groggily.
“How’s the pain? Alright?”
McKinley groaned a little. “Yeah … we at Command?”
“Not yet,” Harris interjected, “but Command is coming to us. They’ll be here in approximately,” he looked at his watch, “two hours.”
McKinley rubbed his face, glanced at Carrie, then back to Harris. Doc fetched some water for his two awakened patients.
“When the UNF ship gets here,” Harris continued, “they’ll be assuming command of the Aurora, and we’ll all be under armed guard. They will probably separate us, and we won’t see each other again until after we’re back on Earth, quarantined and debriefed.”
“Do we trust the team that’s coming?” McKinley asked.
Harris pursed his lips and nodded, “I think maybe we can. Colonel Isaack seemed surprised by what I told him. It could be a ruse though. So, I just want to give you all a heads-up about what’s going to happen. If they process us legit, you can bet your asses on a major debrief when we get back. Seven UNF scientists have been killed by our crew. That’s seven deaths we have to answer for, and on paper it’ll look like a clear-cut case of soldiers versus scientists. And you know who’ll be left looking bad in this situation. This was a classified mission. We don’t know who we can trust or how much our debriefers will know. And if this thing goes against us, charges could be laid. And don’t think for a second that they’re going to focus their grilling on me and Doc, as the senior officers. They will grill the fuck out of all of you. Especially you, Welles, and you, too, Packham, you hear me?”
Carrie nodded, and Packham’s voice came over the PA. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re both fairly new to Space Duty, so they’re going to assume that you’re the weakest link and try and push that. You’ll get special attention, Welles. I know you’ve had a serious debrief before with the Santos mission, but with that head injury, the fact that you killed two of their Jumbos, wounded another, not to mention the incident with Grolsh, or the fact that the Jumbos actually caught you. They will be squeezing you, corporal, you can guarantee that.”
Carrie nodded firmly at him.
“So, assuming our debriefers are privy to the classification, all you have to do is tell the truth,” Harris told them. “I’ve been over every casualty in my head and there wasn’t one that wasn’t deserved on their side. They were killed when one of our own was at risk. The UNF cannot deny that. But we still don’t know how things will play out when they get their hands on us. We don’t know whether we can trust them, so I will leave it up to you as to what you do and do not tell them. All I ask is that you be smart about what you say and how you say it. These guys, these JAGernauts,” he said using the slang term for UNF JAG officers, “the ones that will handle the debriefing, are worse than lawyers. They’ll go for the jugular if they feel it’s necessary; they’ll get real personal, and they can twist the shit out of anything. So you all need to be strong and hold firm. We did what was right, in a mission that was completely wrong, and you need to remember that. Questions?”
The room was silent, but Carrie decided to speak up.
“Captain, should I see if my father can help?”
Harris eyed her for a moment, mulling it over. “What exactly do you think he can do for us?”
“He’s an Original,” she shrugged. “He’s bound to know some friendly faces at Command. He can try and make sure the right people get involved in our case. Make sure that we’re not burned at the stake.” Carrie touched her hand to the side of her face, trying to caress away her aching head, and thought for a moment. “If I make a transmission to him, will they be able to track it?”
“Probably,” he answered. “Packham, can you somehow censure what is said on the transmission?”
Packham’s voice sounded nervously over the PA. “I don’t know. That was really Smith’s forte, scrambling. I can try, but I can’t guarantee a result.”
“I … I can probably do it in code, sir,” Carrie told them.
Harris arched his eyebrow at her.
“When my father came home from a mission, he would talk in code with my mother about it. It was his way of letting her know what went on, without actually telling her and breaking UNF protocol. I’m the only other person who knows it.”
Harris and Doc exchanged a look, then he turned back to Carrie. “Give it a try, Welles. We might need a friendly face. Packham, set up the transmission.”
“Yes, sir.”
*
Carrie felt a little dizzy as she sat there staring at the transmission screen. Until now, her head had distracted her from the pain down her neck and back from Logan’s wall crunch, but now it was becoming more and more evident. She tried to stretch out her muscles as the message blinked across the screen: One moment while we connect you …
She waited a few moments, the screen flashed, then she saw her father. He was in his living room, in his dressing gown. It looked to be the early hours of the morning there.
“Ree! You scared the shit out of me. I thought I was getting ‘the call’ about you. What happened to your face? Are you alright?” he asked, a little frazzled. He’d obviously just awoken.
“Dad, hi,” she began slowly, calmly.
“Ree, what happened?” he asked, angrily.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. I just wanted to speak with you.” She squeezed her eyes tight for a moment trying to force her brain to think back to the conversations she’d heard between her parents, and the games they’d played in her childhood. It had been a while. “I— I’m going to be home soon and I wondered whether you could … could get me a gift? For when I return.”
He looked confused. “What the hell are you talking about? Is your head okay? Has someone checked you out?”
“The head is fine, Dad. I just, er … I missed you and … I missed mum, and I started thinking about those conversations you used to have with her. You know? About Sparkie and Uncle David? I was reminiscing …”
He stared down the screen a moment, then rubbed his face as though he were trying to wake himself up. She could tell he’d cottoned on to what she was trying to do. “Yeah, sure, Ree. You said you wanted a gift?” He stared rather fixedly into the camera, not wanting to miss anything.
She smiled. “Yes. We’re going to have a party when we get back to town, and I thought you might want to invite your friend along? You know, the one with the friendly face? The good listener. I can’t remember his name … he’s always good to have around. The life of the party. I’ve told my team all about him. They’d like to meet him at the party. We’ll need some entertainment.”
He stared at her a moment. “Yeah, he’s a good guy, that one. I know a couple, I could invite a few along,” he said, as he rubbed his gray whiskers.
“That’d be great, Dad. We would all really love to see them.”
“Your head, your neck? Doesn’t look like blast wounds. Looks like you did several rounds with a heavyweight boxer?” His voice was softer, but still firm. She could tell his mind was racing, his eyes searching hers for answers.
She gave a slight nod.
“You got band-aids?” he asked her, referring to the wounded.
“Er, yeah. There’re less than six.”
He nodded. “And you mentioned Sparkie and Uncle David?” Sparkie had been her great-uncle David’s dog that had been hit by a car and died. So fond of the dog was her terminally ill great-uncle David, that he’d passed away, just days later, quite poetically in remorse. They had always taken Sparkie and Uncle David to mean death.
She felt her eyes tear up as a sudden rush of emotion swept over her. Her father was so close to her on the screen, yet he was still days away. The thought that she nearly died, the thought of the unknown future ahead, made her realize just how much she’d missed him. How much she needed him in her life. Why had they let the distance come between them? Why had they been so selfish and stubborn? Why do people not realize what they have until it’s too late?
This emotion was alien to her. She wasn’t one to weep at the drop of a hat. She kept a tough facade, but right now, she couldn’t. Right now, more than anything, she needed her father and his strength.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I know Sparkie and Uncle David were around for 12 months all up … but a third of those were bad,” she said, as a tear rolled down her cheek.
Her father nodded, his face darkly serious. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Ree. I’ll buy you a gift and we’ll have that party when you get back. It’ll be like you were never gone and nothing’s changed.”
Another tear rolled down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. She wanted to be the strong soldier in front of him, but she was tired and drained. Right now, she could only be his daughter.
“You get some sleep, Ree. I’ll see you safe at home.” His voice was firm, his eyes shining with determination. She knew he would take care of things. That’s why he’d been an Original, that’s why he’d been a colonel. He was as tough as they come, and he didn’t back down without a fight. That’s where she got it from.
She hesitated, but then reached out to touch the screen, just as it went black. He was gone.
She took a few moments to pull herself together, wiping her cheeks. She felt better knowing that her father was going to do what he could, but at the same time, suddenly wondered what she was dragging him into?
*
Harris made his way to the flight deck with Doc. Brown had called them over the PA. A UNF ship was approaching and requesting permission to board. They entered the flight deck and Brown and Packham looked anxiously at them.
“The UNF Vortex, has made contact, and its captain would like to speak with you, sir,” Packham advised him.
Harris bent down awkwardly to the console, holding his ribs and spoke into the mouthpiece.
“UNF Vortex, this is Captain Harris of the UNF Aurora. Do you copy? Over.”
“Captain Harris, this is Captain Lee of the UNF Vortex,” a man with an American accent responded. “Request permission to board.”
“Permission granted. You may proceed.” Harris stood up from the console. “Packham, you done one of these before? Can you guide them on this?” he asked her.
Packham nodded. “I’ve only done one mid-space boarding, as co-pilot, but I know what we have to do.”
Harris stared at her firmly. “You make that clear to them.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned to Doc. “Let’s go and welcome our new guests.”
*
Harris and Doc stood by the door in silence. Several minutes passed. Packham had transferred the comms between the two ships over the PA, so they could hear what was going on. The ship was alongside and the transfer chute engaged. There was a loud humming, then a whooshing sound as the ship transfer chute was pressurized. A long, high-pitched beep followed, then after a few minutes Packham’s voice came over the speakers.
“Captain Harris. The chute is pressurized and the boarding party are outside. Over.”
Harris hit the PA button. “Copy that, Packham. Preparing to disengage the entry doors of the Aurora.”
“Roger that.”
Harris released the intercom and stepped back from the door. He exchanged one last look with his lieutenant, then reached out and hit the release button for the door. It slid open to reveal seven men standing there. All but one were armed and aiming their weapons at them. The unarmed one, a tall man with dark hair streaked silver, and closely-cropped peppery beard, stepped forward.
“Captain Harris? Captain Lee.” He gave a nod.
Harris nodded back.
“I’ve spoken with Colonel Isaack,” Lee began, “and he informs me that you are aware, that as of this moment, the Aurora is now under my control. Yes?”
Harris nodded again, despite his reluctance. The Aurora was his ship.
“You are also aware that, until all investigations are complete, you will be in UNF custody?”
Harris nodded again.
“Good,” Lee said. “Put your hands on your heads and turn around.”
Harris and Doc glanced at each other, but did so. As soon as they turned their backs some of the Vortex soldiers barged onto the Aurora, pushed them against the wall and began to frisk them. Harris winced and grunted as a sharp pain shot across his side from his injured ribs. The rest of the soldiers split off; two headed for the flight deck and two headed down the opposite corridor toward the hospital.
“Is this necessary, Captain Lee?” Harris said through gritted teeth. “We’re not resisting you?”
“My apologies, captain, but I do not wish to take any chances. I’ve been informed that your team are responsible for the deaths of seven scientists.”
Again Harris exchanged a look with Doc. The soldiers finished frisking them, then pulled their hands behind their backs and cuffed them.
Doc looked over his shoulder at Lee. “I’m the medic on this ship and I’ve got patients. Uncuff me.”
“I know who you are, First Lieutenant Walker. Our medic will assume care of your patients from this point forward,” Lee advised.
The soldiers holding Harris and Doc turned them around to face Lee. Harris looked them over carefully. They were fit, but rather young. Kids, almost. After a few moments, Packham and Brown were marched under armed guard down alongside them. They, too, were shoved against the wall and frisked.
“Hey,” Packham called out, bringing her arm in to cover her chest, and shooting her guard a filthy glare.
Harris, Doc and Brown looked over at Packham’s guard. He was another young kid, stocky, with a number one haircut.
“Excuse me, ma’am!” the soldier said with a Southern American accent, smirking and pushing her face first against the wall. He spread her arms out and continued to frisk her very liberally. As he made his way up her leg with both hands, he did his best to get another reaction out of her.
“Fuck off!” she spat, turning around and pushing him back.
“I saw that, corporal,” Doc warned the guard.
He flashed Doc a sarcastic grin. “Saw what?” he said, holding his hands up in the air and shooting Lee a glance. “I was merely frisking her.” Then he grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall and cuffed her roughly.
Harris looked back at Captain Lee, who was watching his guard with Packham carefully, before moving to lock eyes with Harris.
“That necessary, too, Captain Lee?” Harris asked, flatly.
Lee ignored him. “Move them,” he ordered his men, then turned and headed off down the corridor. As Harris and the others followed, they saw a soldier up ahead walking Welles out of the hospital at gunpoint. She looked over at Harris’s group, concerned, as the soldier grabbed her by the back of the neck and pushed her up against the wall. The soldier, a solid kid with his hair in a little ponytail and shaved sides, looked around and saw Lee’s group approaching.
“Found this one walking around, captain,” he called out in a European accent of some kind, then turned back to Welles. “Spread ’em!” He put his foot in between hers and kicked them apart. “Hands up,” he ordered. He began to frisk her as the Aurora team watched closely, but he seemed a little more professional than Packham’s guard. When he was done, he grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back and cuffed her.
“Hey!” Doc called to him, then turned to Captain Lee. “She’s a patient. She has a fractured skull and concussion.”
Lee eyed him for a moment, then walked up to Welles. He grabbed her by the chin and lifted her head to view her neck, then studied the bandage over her swollen purple face.
“Put her with the other patients, Corporal Gusto,” he ordered.
The soldier grabbed her by her arm and led her back into the hospital, but not before she managed to lock eyes with Harris and then Doc, who stood behind him.
Harris and his team lined up in the corridor outside the hospital, while Captain Lee entered to examine those inside. After a few moments, he reappeared and stood in front of Doc.
“You’ve got a full house in there, Lieutenant Walker.”
“Yes, I have, sir. Can your medic handle that?” He eyed him squarely.
Lee gave a little smile. “We’ll manage.” He walked down the line and looked over the four of them. “You’re confined to quarters until we reach Command. You will, of course, be provided with food and water, albeit in your rooms. These soldiers will take you there now. There will be armed guards outside your quarters for the remainder of the journey. Are we understood?”
None of Harris’s team answered, but they all made eye contact with Lee acknowledging him.
“Good,” he said, then turned to his own soldiers. “Take them.”
The soldier that had frisked each of them seemed to assume the role of their assigned guard. Harris’s guard stopped him in the corridor while the others were put into their quarters. They separated Doc and Brown, moving Brown onto McKinley and Hunter’s room. They lined each of them up in front of their doors and began to uncuff them. Harris looked over at Packham and saw her guard lean over and whisper something to her, whilst undoing her cuffs.
“What was that, soldier?” Harris barked.
The soldier looked over at him with a smart grin on his face. Doc and Brown glanced around to see what was going on.
Harris turned to Lee. “He touches or taunts her again, you’re going to have a serious problem. Do you understand me, Captain Lee?”
Lee hesitated a moment, then gave a quick nod. “Baker, go guard the hospital.”
Baker finished uncuffing Packham, then grabbed her arm and leaned in to say something else to her, but Lee stopped him.
“BAKER!”
He smirked at Packham and walked off, and she quickly entered her room and shut the door. Harris turned back to make eye contact with Doc and Brown, before they were moved into their quarters and the doors locked.
Under Lee’s escort, Harris was then marched down to his own quarters and uncuffed.
“I’ll check on you later, Captain,” Lee told him. “I’ll be sure to inform Command of your cooperation on our boarding.”
“You make sure you keep Baker on a leash or I’ll be informing Command of your lack of cooperation,” Harris said.
“Don’t worry about Baker. He knows his place with me.”
“He’d better. My team has just been to hell and back and that shit is the last thing they need.”
Lee’s eyes narrowed in study of Harris. He could see a curiosity shining in the other captain’s eyes, a curiosity which indicated that Lee was just following orders and knew nothing about what was going on here. Harris gave the captain a quick nod, then stepped inside his quarters. The door slid shut behind him and he let out a long sigh of release. He looked at his watch. 06:30.
Thirty hours, give or take, until they reached Command.
*
Carrie managed to doze through sheer exhaustion, but every little noise made her eyes dart open. She didn’t trust the Vortex team and somehow felt responsible for the others in Doc’s absence. She especially didn’t trust the new guard on the door, Baker. He was quick to offend, yelling at her to “Shut the fuck up!” for answering McKinley’s inquiry as to where the others were, then made lewd comments as the Vortex’s medic examined her. The medic, Jackson, wasn’t much better, his bedside manner leaving a lot to be desired. Chewing gum in a casual manner, he took care of only the bare necessities of the patients. McKinley didn’t care for him much either, his hard stare making that clear. The medic retaliated by pretending to examine his leg, but instead he squeezed it and watched McKinley reel in pain. All the while, the guard, Baker, laughed.
She tossed and turned for the first few hours as best she could, given that her right hand was now cuffed, but eventually the tiredness got to her, and unable to resist, she finally fell into a deep sleep. Sometime later, however, she awoke with a start. She felt panicked, and as she was still half asleep, she freaked out at the sight of her hand cuffed to the bed until she suddenly realized where she was again. She looked around the room and both Baker and McKinley were staring at her.
Baker started laughing. “Who’s Chet? Boyfriend?”
Carrie glanced back at McKinley, who eyed her quizzically for a moment before turning his head and closing his eyes again. She tried to roll over and face away from them both as best she could with her cuffed hand, wanting desperately to wipe the images from her mind of Chet, Logan and Sharley, and what they were about to do to her in her dream.