Salamander

Chapter Sixteen: Remembered in History

Chapter Sixteen

We were under a tree only a couple dozen feet away from the fence. It had been tedious getting the mutant over the fence and dragging it towards the first tree we had seen. The scientist had taken the mutant’s wrists and ankles and bounded them together with two pairs of iron handcuffs. He then took out some sort of glass tube and began to collect its blood, drawn from the gash the scientist had created after he hit its head with a hammer.

            “Goodness,” Mariam said. She stood up and wiped the dirt off of her torn dress and turned away. “Let me know when you’re done.”

            I saw Lance roll his eyes as Mariam sat under a tree, her body just on the brink of being swallowed by the heavy fog.

            The scientist pushed a small cork into the tube and swirled it around, causing the blood to rush and swirl in to a vortex. “Once I bring this blood back home, I should be able to investigate its contents.”

            “And what will that do?” Lance asked sarcastically.

            “Hopefully something that can give me an answer as to how this neurotoxin works,” he said.

            “I know that,” Lance replied with a sneer. “I’m talking about how it can give you that information.”

            “I don’t know,” the scientist replied matter-of-factly. “Well, at least not yet.”

            Lance raised his brows and shook his head. “God almighty.”

            “Are you guys finished?” Mariam hissed.

            “No!” Lance replied a little too loud.

            I hushed them and looked back at the fence, almost expecting a non-bound mutant to come jumping over the fence. “You know that there are mutants that aren’t tied to the fence,” I whispered. “Those who used to be the Collectors – why didn’t they sense us inside the clearing?”

            “Previous testing showed that their senses are dull – the neurotoxin diminishes their five senses,” the scientist explained.

            “Five?” I wondered out loud. “Are you saying that they have no . . . emotions?”

            “Well, I’d have to turn into one of them to know for sure, but for now, I’d say there’s an eighty-percent chance that their morals – the morals they had had when they were human – are askew.” The scientist put the tube of blood in the pocket of his long, brown coat. “We should head back.”

            “We?” I asked.

            “Well, unless you’d prefer to stay out here by yourselves,” the scientist said mockingly.

            “No,” Mariam said quickly. “We’ll come with you.”

            “Speak for yourself,” Lance said harshly. “I don’t even know if I can trust you.” He pointed towards me. “Heck, I haven’t even known any of you for an entire day.”

            “Well, how about this?” the scientist said as he struggled to stand up. “Those of you who want to come can come, and those of you who don’t can wander about the forest.” He glanced at me. “Like the boy said: there were mutants who aren’t restrained, therefore they could have jumped over the fence long ago.” He shrugged. “You can find yourself in front of one of them before long.”