Falling Skies

Seventeen

Ryder's hands tremble uncontrollably as they play with the wires of the key pad. His mind panicking as it juggles Wren's telepathic screams of pain with the fear of a body turning the corner and discovering him at any moment.

Wire after wire, he attaches each and every one, reprogramming the keypad purely through muscle memory. His mind is too absent to contribute to the process, instead replaying the scene of Wren on the table over and over until the image becomes distorted and grotesque, Ryder physically shaking his head to attempt to rid himself of the image.

"C'mon. C'mon!" He whispers to himself as he works, a bead of sweat forming against his brow as another scream erupts through his body, riding the length of his spine and willing his fingers to work faster.

Each wire becomes a blur, red and blue muddling together in a frenzy as he tears each wire with his hands, a small shock riding through his joints though he ignores the pain, the slight smoke and stench of flesh burning beneath his nose. It's as If he's been taken over, possessed by the screams echoing within his own mind. The pain of the screams, of the burns, all forcing him to focus.

He shuts his eyes against the pain only briefly, exhaling a deep breath as his body slumps against the chill metal of the door. His fingers tremble from the pain radiating from the tips to the knuckles, the burnt away flesh stinging at the wires.

"Just one more." He breathes, chest hiccuping as the breath struggles to be exhaled. "Just one more you can do this, Ryder, you got this." Ryder lies to himself, eyes shut in unknown pain as an already injured hand breaks away at the wires, a few sparks flying up in protest of his actions.

It would've taken too long to undo the entire code of the door, yet the pain in his trembling hands screams that he should've at least considered the option. Ryder glances down at the trembling flesh before forcing his eyes away from the bleeding, not even bothering to investigate further.

A trembling hand pushes at the cool metal door, a streak of blood left behind as his hand slides to the place where a doorknob should be, the entire weight of his body forcing upon the door until it gives way with a creak.

The screaming stops, the doctor pausing his work to glance over his shoulder for only a moment. Without thinking, Ryder grabs a scalpel from the bloody side table littered with used instruments. His blood mingles with Wren's against the cursed blade before driving it into the neck of the doctor, the man falling to his knees in seconds.

He grabs at the scalpel wedged between his jawline and his collarbone, but Ryder dodges for the instrument first. His fingers steady only to draw out the blade, thickened blood spurting from the severed artery before the doctor falls to the floor. His eyes wide and still as if watching the blood pool around his hair, dying the blonde a deep burgundy.

Ryder holds the scalpel between his damaged fingers, the small handle hard to hold though he bites his lips to channel the pain elsewhere: the two female nurses still behind the table.

One dives for the door, her feet barely rounding the table before Ryder grabs her below the elbow, jerking the girl back before driving the scalpel through her neck. She drops next to the doctor, their blood nearly flooding the room as the second nurse watches, her mouth turned to a slight frown as she pulls at her blood covered mask.

"I didn't want this." She swallows. "I never wanted any of this." The nurse shakes her head as she speaks, tears welling in her eyes while she raises her hands in surrender. "Please just let me go." It's barely a whisper as the girl drops to her knees, head downcast to the blood now piling at her knees. The liquid dying her pastel green into a muddied, dull version of its former self.