Page 56 of Juniper Unraveling

For the first time in my life, I’m completely alone.

* * *

Minutes pass. Maybe hours. I push up from the floor and gather up my brother’s file. Before placing it back into the drawer, I snap Abel’s picture from the front and stuff it into my pocket.

I don’t care if they catch me with it. I no longer care what they do to me.

Everything I had left to fight for is gone, leaving nothing but an empty shell. And shells don’t feel pain, or fear being broken.

My whole body is numb, locked in a state of shock as I exit Davis’s office. I don’t even notice the sweep of the flashlight at first, until it flickers in my periphery.

I twist to see the guard from before standing at the end of the hallway. Spinning on my heel, I push through the door beside me, looking for a place to hide and take cover in a dark stairwell. A minute later, the guard passes the window, and I blow out a breath, sagging against the wall. Clicking on the flashlight, I edge toward the bannister and peer down the spiraling stairwell.

Perhaps the buildings are connected in their basement level as well. The apartment we lived in was connected to the next building over. It was supposed to be an escape route, in the event Ragers managed to get in.

One we never used.

I scamper down the staircase, rounding each floor, until I’ve reached the lowest level where a B is stamped onto the door panel. Pushing through brings me to an open area, where a variety of equipment and appliances are stored. The area is vast, and when I come upon a hallway, the surrounding darkness has me completely turned around until I’ve no idea where I am.

I keep on, anyway, and catch the shine of something in the beam of my light. A black gloss off in the distance. As I approach, it comes into clear focus, and I can make out the shape of a body propped on a chair, completely covered in some kind of rubber suit that shines. The face is covered by the rubber, as well, but a wide rusted pipe sticks out from the mouth, and I follow the path of it to one of the large structures beside me.

Is he alive?

I reach out and push my finger into the suit.

It squishes unnaturally, casting a shiver down my spine, and I rub the pads of my fingers together as they carry the lingering sensation.

I lean toward it a second time, catching a burnt smell that crinkles my nose, and once again, I glance upward toward the structure attached to the pipe.

What is it?

Arms wrap around me from behind, at the same time a hand covers my mouth.

With waves of terror washing through me, I scream into the palm.

“Shhhh,” the voice whispers in my ear, but I squirm and kick, trying to break away. “Do you know what this is?”

At his question, I still in his arms. I’ve no idea who’s captured me, but he’s strong, stronger than me, and fighting him is proving useless.

Shivering in his grasp, I shake my head.

“Ever heard of an autoclave?”

I have. It’s the large, refrigerator-looking thing in the lab, where instruments are set on the shelves inside and pressurized steam sterilizes them. I nod in response, and he points a finger toward the pipe.

“Same concept. That pipe is connected to a boiler, and steam is sent into the suit.”

The horror of what he’s describing crawls over me, and bile inches up my throat.

“See, we can’t have one of our own becoming infected and spreading the disease. Unfortunately, the prion can’t be destroyed by much of anything, really. So we contain it in the suit. Kill off the virus that carries it, and discard the whole damn thing after. Here is where we test the suit. To make sure there are no leaks, or mishaps. Only the older subjects are used for testing, though.”

A whimper leaks from my mouth, still captured in his palm.

He releases me, allowing me to turn, and dread burbles in my gut as the halo of my flashlight shines on Doctor Ericsson’s son. The one who walked in on us.

Close up, I can see he’s much older than me, but still carries the features of a boy—youthful skin and little facial hair that places him at nineteen, or twenty. The black suit he wears shows his broad shoulders, which taper down to a small waist, telling me he’s far stronger than I am, to even consider fighting him.

“Come with me. I want to show you something.”