The Disparate One

Chapter 27

Ray skidded and started retching behind the dumpster in one of the alleyways nearby. He eventually vomited the image out. His fingers twitched on the edge before wiping his mouth clean and sniffed. He coughed and spat before regaining his composure, avoiding any gaze to the restaurant. He caught his breath. He squinted in anger from the fact that innocent lives were being turned into something edible. A delicacy to the other innocent people above.

He gradually hobbled back to the streets, arms wrapped around him.

The thought of these people salivating for the meals made out of other people continued to disturb him. It even bothered him more when he thought about Oxford and the rest who worked in the facility.

He knew telling anyone here would only bring him to a psychiatric hospital. People would think he was on drugs, or probably an escapee. He was literally an escapee. Not the typical way other people would guess.

He needed to do something about Cal. To confront his wrongdoings and to save everyone trapped in it. More thoughts of problems about his plan suddenly started to bring headaches. He needed to get back to the facility as fast as possible. Finding shelter had now become his top priority for now. The second would be finding where he was.

He continued to limp, forcing himself to keep a straight face despite a few only dared to glance at him. Somehow they weren't noticing something odd. He didn't know how long he had been on the move. Though, what he only knew was him catching his breath, his mouth getting sandy, and his stomach grumbling. The complaints from his head, his foot, and other parts throughout his body weighed him down.

He kept himself upright, mumbling to himself to bring justice at all cost. To finally expose Cal to everyone. To finally put an end to the facility's legacy.

His body slumped and he began to sway on each step he took. His vision started to blur and his hearing become muffled. His breathing shortened. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest.

After crossing the street, he deterred himself to another alleyway, behind a hotel. He propped himself against a dumpster and wheezed as if something got his throat. He dropped down when he coughed. He pulled his legs closer to him when he felt the chip in his pocket.

He brought it out for a second and started thanking the gods above because the device was still in one piece. Somehow he became more fragile than the tiny device.

He slid the device back into his pocket when he noticed his whitening hands. Forming sweat and condensation on his forehead dropped on his palms. At this point, Ray was confident he was dying. Poisoned by Cal. Somehow.

He tried to get back to his feet, but his body protested. His shaking body and headaches brought him down and his shattered left leg anchored him. He did his best to keep his eyes open, staring at the blue sky between the buildings.

Soon, his body conquered his consciousness and gradually closed his eyes. His breathing slowed and deepened. His head dropped and unbalanced his body to the asphalt. Within seconds, he heard someone opening a door, and groups of voices followed. Then, he heard their footsteps rushing towards him. His body finally failed him.

Half an hour later, an ambulance drove through the alley and screeched to a halt near the scene. The driver, who claimed to be also the paramedic, brought Ray to a stretcher and brought him to the back of the flashing vehicle. The ambulance drove away with a trail of smoke.

Another ambulance came to the scene. They claimed that they were responding to an emergency which led them here.

Ray regained his consciousness soon after. His mind was throbbing while his eyes ran around the shaking compartment. Nothing was connected to him, not even an oxygen mask. He lifted his hands when he heard something clank. He was cuffed onto the bed. He tried to speak to demand to be dropped off, only slurs came out. There was also no one with him in the compartment.