Chapter Six: The Lady in the Lab Coat

1.4K 94 2
                                    

From the vents, steam billowed into the confined space. I screamed and attempted to hold my breath. Across from me, Taylor grabbed my hand with a pained smile, closing her eyes.

I squeezed her fingers tightly. Her expression was unnervingly calm.

In moments, I could no longer see Taylor in front of me, but her hand relaxed and I heard her slump onto the bed.

"Taylor," I coughed, scrambling to reach her. The harder I coughed, the dizzier I became, until I collapsed against her. Though I fought for consciousness, I lost.

"Taste this, mija!"

A bite of seasoned chicken burst with flavor in my mouth. I gave two thumbs up before continuing my math homework.
The smell of spices and sound of the sizzling pan in the warm kitchen was why I always did homework in the dining room. Dad was preparing recipes for the restaurant he and Uncle Dante were opening.

"Dad, can you look at this?" I asked, erasing my answer for the fifth time. The paper had become shredded, mimicking my frustration.

"Sure, sweetheart," he turned the temperature down on the oven. Walking toward me, his phone began to ring.

He squinted at the number in confusion, "One second, Mar, gotta take this."

"Si? Dante?" He continued the conversation in Spanish as he disappeared into the living room. His volume grew louder and more frustrated. He began yelling angrily, causing my mother to come looking for him.

"Who's he on the phone with?" she asked.

"Uncle Dante," I'd stopped doing my homework, picking out the few Spanish vocabulary words I knew.

With a concerned expression, mom followed dad into the living room.

My dad began sobbing loudly, "He's fucking ruined it! SHIT, SHIT!" The phone went flying into the kitchen. I jumped in my seat.

My mother rushed into the dining room pale-faced, "Finish your homework in your room, please Margo."

"DAMN IT!"

"What's wrong with dad?" I asked, gathering my paper.

"We'll talk later, go to your room, please."

"Margo Phoenix, Margo are you with us?"

I cursed aloud. Never in my life had I lost consciousness so many times in a day. What would be the damage? Surely, it would negatively impact my brain.

The room resembled a hospital, empty except for myself and the blurred figure sitting across from me. It smelled of cleaning chemicals and was so white I struggled to fully open my eyes.
I attempted to move my hair from my face only to find that my wrists were locked beneath metal cuffs attached to the seat.

The metal dug into my skin as I pulled in frustration.

"The restraints are for our safety," a dark-haired woman sitting across from me said, "Some of the Changed have acted poorly in their fear."

"Your safety? I've been knocked unconscious three times today!" I exclaimed, yanking my feet which were also cuffed to the chair.

"Twice today," she corrected, "The first occurred a day ago when we began transporting you to the base."

I kicked and fought against the cuffs to no avail, "Let me go, I've done nothing wrong," I pleaded.

To my surprise, she smiled kindly. Her makeup creased around her eyes as her cheeks rounded with the stretch of her rouge lips, "Of course, you've done nothing wrong, Margo, in fact, you've done everything right."

"Then why did you kill my mother?" My voice faltered at the last word. I could hardly bear to say it aloud.

"Your mother was an unnecessary casualty and I'm sorry for your loss," the woman said sadly. She folded her manicured hands in her lap.

Tears fell onto my pants as I dropped my head, no longer wanting to look at the woman.

"I'm sure you have many questions," she said, "That's why I've invited you here, to talk."

I lifted my eyes slowly. The woman looked kind in the way a kindergarten teacher might. Her gaze was analytical, trying to decipher my face.

"Where am I? Why am I here?" I began to ask, "Does this have to do with the virus?"

She chuckled, "One question at a time, I promise I'll answer as many as I can."

I gnawed on my lip, tasting blood, "Fine, just tell me what's going on, who are you?" 

"Better," she said, "I'm called Enid. I'm the head virologist for the United States Department of infectious diseases. I'm the leading researcher for NUVID-77."

"So this is about the virus? Is that why I'm here?" My heartbeat quickened, "Does that mean those kids in the room survived too?"

"Margo, slow down," Enid raised a gentle hand.

I apologized, anxious for her to continue.

"To explain fully why you're here, I have to share information that will alter your perception of the world going forward," Enid began, "I have given those like you the choice to have that knowledge kept from them, so that when this is over, they can live normally again, I'm giving you that choice now."

I looked at her, puzzled.

"So what will it be, Margo Phoenix? The truth," she asked, "or the half of it?"

"I want the truth."

The Changed (Completed)Where stories live. Discover now