Contaminated 2: Mercy Mode (24 page)

“I’ll have Dr. Donna talk to you about it. But rest assured, Velvet, it’s merely standard testing procedures, nothing out of the ordinary—”

“I thought you said I was special.”

His smile is totally false. “You are. Of course you are. Come on now, let’s see how you do with this next series of tests.”

“I said, no.”

Dr. Billings frowns. I make a face. He backs up a step. I clench my fists.

The soldiers come and take me away.

I NEVER EAT DINNER IN THE CAFETERIA, WHICH
is fine with me because I don’t want to see Tony. Even if he doesn’t know I’m the one who was electrocuting him. I’m served dinner in my room. A plate of Salisbury soy steak in thick, congealing gravy with a side of rice and corn. Chocolate pudding for dessert. It never tastes right, made with soy milk. It’s kind of chalky and metallic, but I eat it because I can’t force myself to choke down the disgusting fake steak. The gravy reminds me too much of snot.

I have no appetite. The day’s testing left me sick to my stomach. I can’t get the sight of Tony’s slumped shoulders and open mouth out of my head.

The dial hadn’t shocked me, but my fingers tingle anyway with the memory. Because it had felt good, hadn’t it? At least a little. Imagining with every twist that I was sending waves of pain to someone who’d hurt me. There’s only a little comfort in knowing that I did stop, once I found out.

But before that, before it became real, I’d liked it.

Arnaldo comes in to take away my tray. Something about the sight of him makes me laugh. He gives me a curious glance.

“Hey, Arnaldo.”

“Hey, Velvet. You okay?” He comes a little closer and puts a hand on my upper arm. “You look a little–”

“Pudding.” It’s the only word I manage to say before the floor comes up and hits me in the face.

Sometime later, I swim up from darkness, unable to move my arms or legs. A blurred face comes into focus. Not Arnaldo, but Cody, grinning in a way that makes me want to punch him in the face. Right in it. Mash his lips with my fist, watch the blood squirt.…

“She’s waking up. Good.” That voice belongs to Dr. Donna, and I swing my head around to face her. “Hold her.”

“You gave her enough sedative to almost kill her.” That’s Dr. Billings. He sounds worried.

“And she’s still fighting. I said, hold her.”

I blink away the fuzziness in my vision, focusing on Dr. Donna’s voice. I stop pushing against the arms holding me down, not because I don’t want to be free but because I can tell I’m not coordinated enough to get free. The slap of leather on my wrists forces a groan out of me, and I go still.

“Donna. She’s awake. You can’t—”

Dr. Donna’s voice is diamond hard, sharp enough to
cut glass. “Arthur, I know what I’m doing. The dose was fine.”

“Administered in pudding. You can’t even be sure she took the right amount—”

She cuts him off again. I can see her sneer through the prison bars of my eyelashes. “First you were worried she had too much. Now you’re worried she’s had too little? You’re the one who’s been doing all the research on her. You’re the one who’s convinced her metabolism can destabilize any amount of sedatives in a quarter of the normal time, if they affect her at all. You’re the one who thinks she’s some kind of holy grail of test subjects.”

I go very, very still.

“She’s not sleeping,” Dr. Billings says.

Dr. Donna bends closer and looks into my eyes, prying one open with her perfectly manicured fingernails. I keep my gaze unfocused, but don’t close my eyes when she straightens. She gives Dr. Billings a look over her shoulder. If I were him, I’d want to slap the smug smile off her face. I want to, and I’m not him.

“Just because her eyes are open doesn’t mean she’s awake. You know that as well as I do. But if you insist, I’ll be happy to make sure that Velvet is completely under. Or not.”

Before I can breathe or move or do anything else, Dr. Donna places her knuckles on my chest and presses hard, rubbing straight up to the base of my throat. The pain is instant and immense, so overwhelming, I can’t cry out from
it—I can only writhe. My entire body bucks; my wrists, pinned down by the straps, burn and ache from how hard I yanked myself away from her. But I can’t move.

She does it again, looking into my face with a grim, satisfied smile.

“Well,” she says. “I guess she is awake, after all.”

I shout out a bunch of insults. They rasp out of me like my tongue’s rubbing a cheese grater, but Dr. Donna gets the point. Her smile gets a little wider.

“What a mouth. Arthur, you didn’t tell me she had such a demure vocabulary.”

My teeth clench down on the next set of words. My chest aches. My wrists, too. My head isn’t fuzzy anymore, though there’s a glowing sheen around everyone, and it seems like when I move my head, my eyes take a few seconds too long to catch up.

“Velvet, can you count backward for me from one hundred?”

I open my mouth to start, but Dr. Donna snaps her fingers in annoyance. “Forget that. She’s not going to go out now, not without another dose of sedative. Do you want to give her one?”

Dr. Billings looks hesitant. “Not on top of what you gave her, no.”

“What’s going on?” I manage to say around what feels like a mouthful of cotton balls. I spit, but nothing comes out.

Dr. Donna’s face wrinkles in disgust. “Stop that.”

“Dry,” I say.

Dr. Billings shakes his head. “I can’t give you anything to drink, Velvet, I’m sorry. Not until after the procedure.”

“Pro … seed … your?” I should know what he means, but I’m trying hard not to let my eyes slip shut against the bright lights. I’m not tired, but with every blink, my head hurts worse and worse. I force myself to keep them open, not wanting to be taken by surprise.

“Arthur. Hold her head.”

Dr. Billings comes to the side of my bed and takes my head in both of his hands. They’re very warm. He studies my face, and I wait for him to say something. Anything. But he stares only.

Dr. Donna holds up a black box. From inside, she takes out a long, thin needle attached to a small tube. She turns to me with a bright, fierce grin and takes something else out of the box.

“We’ve decided to make some changes to the testing,” she says.

It’s a StayCalm collar.

I don’t remember when they tested me for Contamination by shoving a needle into my eye sockets, because I was unconscious. I don’t know if they used any kind of anesthetic, but this time, all Dr. Donna offers is a nasal spray. It’s cold and stinging, and I cough and cough. The taste of it runs down the back of my throat, choking me.

“Shhh. Settle down. This won’t hurt. At least not very much.” Dr. Donna tries to make her voice soothing but manages to sound more like she hopes she’s wrong. She sounds like she hopes this hurts me a lot.

The needle slides in without effort, and she’s right—I don’t feel anything except a faint sting. But then Dr. Donna bites her bottom lip and pushes, hard, and my entire head pops with the sensation of the needle puncturing something deep inside my eye socket. I can’t stop myself from jerking—it’s not a pain, exactly, but it’s horrifying, anyway. Dr. Billings holds my head still. I let my eyes roll up to look at him.

He offers me a smile that does nothing to make me feel better. The needle wiggles, going deeper. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

I see colors.

They pulse and throb for a few seconds, then fade. The needle wiggles again, and this time, I taste the pudding I ate for dinner. My throat constricts, burning. I gag.

“Hold her head still, Arthur, or else your golden goose won’t be laying any more eggs,” Dr. Donna murmurs, her face very close to mine.

I open my mouth to bite her, but all I can do is drool. Arnaldo would’ve wiped my chin for me, but Cody stands, staring only, his own mouth gaping. I didn’t even know he was there. Dr. Donna pulls away. I can see the length of tubing coming from my eye. It attaches to a small
syringe that she holds up so I can see.

“Just a little bit of pressure when the chip goes in,” she says. “It won’t hurt a bit.”

She’s right about that. It doesn’t hurt a bit. It hurts worse than any pain I’ve ever had. The pressure is enormous. My head will pop, I can feel it. My head’s an egg in a fist. Gonna explode.

Golden goose
.

Egg
.

Crush
.

I writhe without being able to move, and I hear myself screaming, but there are no words. Only an endless, whistling cry that fades as I run out of breath.

My left eye has gone blind. Red haze. From my right, I see Cody back away, his face gone pale. Good. Let him faint, fall, let him remember this forever, what they did to me, what they’re doing.…

Dr. Donna straightens. “There. All done.”

The pain disappears as fast as it came, leaving behind a numbness that promises to turn into an ache. I gasp for breath. Dr. Billings holds my head so tight, I can’t shake it. My stomach muscles hurt; I arched my body so hard within the restraints that I pulled something.

“Now. The other side.”

“Nonononononono …” I can’t even separate the words.

I won’t be able to stand it. I won’t be able. I will explode,
I will die, I would rather die, anything other than have her stick that other needle into my head.

“Perhaps another shot of anesthetic, Dr. Billings? What do you think?”

“It’s topical, it should be fine.” He sounds doubtful, and peers down into my eyes. “Velvet, you’re not supposed to be able to feel anything with that spray Dr. Donna gave you. It’s supposed to numb your sinuses completely. And with the sedative, you’re supposed to be completely unconscious, actually.…”

“Please,” I manage to say, putting everything I have into that one word. I can’t manage another. That’s all I have left.

He looks at Dr. Donna. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Donna. She’s already had far more medication than I had anticipated her needing. I’m not sure about the reactions. They could be worse than the procedure.”

“Fine with me.” She shrugs.

“Please,” I think, but can’t force my mouth to say. Please, oh, God, please give me something to keep it from hurting.

“Deep breath,” Dr. Donna says.

She presses the needle to my other eye socket. This one stings worse. The popping sensation is worse, too, maybe because I already knew it was coming. But when she lifts the tubing to show me her fingers on the plunger of the syringe, I can’t bear it.

I scream. And scream. And scream.

I’m still screaming when the colors beat against the inside
of my head, when my body shakes, when every muscle in my body goes tense and tight. The bed shakes. Dr. Billings’s warm hands on my head hold me down.

Dr. Donna’s shouting something at Cody, but I can’t understand her words. Everything is pain. The smell of something burning. I think it’s my brains.

And then … nothing.

“
VELVET, CAN YOU HEAR ME? BLINK ONCE FOR
yes, twice for no.”

My eyes are open, I realize. And I can see. Blurred shapes, outlined by glowing edges. The stench of burning still coats my nose and mouth. I cough and spit.

“Velvet, it’s Dr. Billings. You’re fine now. I’ve given you some pain medication that should send you to sleep. Okay?”

Or kill me. That’s what he said before, I’m sure of it. They gave me too much medicine before, too much could kill me, I could go to sleep and never wake up. So I won’t go to sleep.

I blink, more than once or twice, over and over again, until Dr. Billings’s face swims into view. Dr. Donna’s next to him, and at least she’s not smiling smugly. She looks genuinely concerned.

“Incredible,” she says. “My God, Arthur. She can’t possibly still be conscious.”

Dr. Billings puts his hand on my forehead. “Velvet, I need you to let go, okay? Go to sleep. You’ll feel so much better if you sleep.”

But I don’t want to slip into darkness. I might not come out of it. I tense my muscles, checking for pain … they all hurt. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, directly between the eyes. Blinking hurts, but since everything else does, too, I keep doing it.

“Come on. Let’s get the collar on her and connected before she starts to struggle again.”

Something tightens around my throat, and I can’t cough it away. Dr. Donna’s face is once again so close to me, I could bite off her nose, if only I could make my jaw cooperate. I would do it, if I could. Instead, my teeth snap shut against themselves.

She looks at me, startled. “Velvet?”

I don’t answer.

She straightens, her fingers working at my throat. I hear a clicking whirr, and then that smell of burning again. Fainter, this time. Another pulse of color, though it’s faded. Then Dr. Donna looks pleased.

“There,” she says. “You’re all set.”

I don’t feel any different, other than the slowly fading ache in my eye sockets and the constriction at my throat. I can’t see the lights, but I hope they’re blinking all a steady green. I swallow and find the collar doesn’t restrict that. I turn my head from side to side and discover I can move
without trouble, too. The collar doesn’t seem to be keeping me from anything, but it’s impossible not to know that it’s there.

I close my eyes then. Tears burn, stinging in the spots where she’d slid needles only minutes ago. I hate for her to see me cry, but I can’t stop myself.

“No tears,” Dr. Donna says. “Just sleep. When you wake up, I promise you, Velvet, all of this will seem better. And you’ll be a better girl for it.”

I shake and shake and shake.

Dr. Donna’s voice is soft against my ear. “My daughter’s name is Alaina. She was beautiful, but no matter how many times I told her so, she didn’t believe me. Oh, how we struggled with her. Diet pills, hospitals. She wouldn’t eat. Do you know how many times I almost lost her?”

I want to tell her I don’t care, but nothing comes out of me but a hiss of air.

“I thought ThinPro was a godsend. She lost weight without starving herself. She seemed to be back on track, getting healthy.” There’s a deep, shuddering breath from Dr. Donna, and I open my eyes to stare into hers. They are bright with tears, and her mouth is twisted. No more smug smile. No more predatory grin. “Now my beautiful daughter sits in a puddle of her own waste and doesn’t know her own name, much less who I am. Instead of trying to kill herself, she killed four people. She should’ve been put
down, but instead I managed to get her into a StayCalm collar. Just like this one. And I will do anything, Velvet. Anything, anything at all, to find a way to fix her. Do you understand me?”