Untouched

33. Unknown

My head throbs, my tongue is heavy and swollen making it hard to swallow the thick foul tasting spit coating the inside of my mouth.

I have morning breath multiplied by a million. It's disgusting.

Sitting up slowly, my vision flickers black and white. I'm in the same shiny white room, but the bright lights are dimmer, and the restraints and machines have gone. A glass of water sits on a bedside table, I pick it up and drink with trembling hands.

My left ankle has been re-bandaged with a stiff hard material. My wrists and other ankle are bruised, rings of blue and purple show how much I resisted. I frown, running my fingertips along the marks, tracing them as though they will give me some new piece of information and help me understand why I'm here.

I get nothing except a dull twinge.

I'm still wearing the thin gown, and I suppress the nausea. My focus needs to be on getting out of here, not on the idea that unwanted and unknown hands touched me.

Placing my feet on the floor, I stand. My legs wobble and the room spins as I stumble forward. Leaning my body and hands against the wall for stability, I limp, slowly circling the shiny white room. It's almost as empty as the Naturalist quarantine room: a bed, a bedside table and two buckets.

Seriously? Haven't Techies invented something better than two buckets to do my business?

Faint lines in the shape of a door are visible on one wall, but there are no handles and my fingers won't fit into the grooves. Tired and out of breath, I return to the bed. My thoughts are disorganised. I can't make sense of my tangled memories.

I'm in the Techie settlement. Why?

An opening in the wall appears and Ben walks in, his face calm and unreadable. My whole body tenses and a shiver radiates across the surface of my skin causing my hairs to stand on end. I curl my hands, channelling the surge of emotions into my clenched fists and my nails cut into my skin.

I'm pretty sure my nails are drawing blood right now.

'How are you feeling, Kit?' Ben approaches me slowly. Three white-coated figures wait on the other side of the opening in the wall, peering in to observe my reaction.

My initial reaction is to fight my way out of here. I search the room for a makeshift weapon. I'm being an idiot. I've read too many books. I'm not a heroic character with special fighting skills, I'm not strong, I don't even want to touch him or any of those people.

I'm trapped.

'Kit? How are you feeling?' Ben asks again.

I drag my gaze away from my only escape to look at him. He perches on the edge bed near me, his eyes searching my face whilst waiting for my response.

Is that a serious question you want me to answer honestly, or your attempt at fake friendliness?

He looks older than I remember, the bright light highlights the bags under his eyes adding a harshness to his facial features. He could be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. Why do I care?

'You must be confused about what's going on here. You are in no immediate danger, I assure you.' He says with a soft gentle voice like he's trying to soothe a small child.

I'm not a child you can win over with a stupid baby voice. 'Your actions suggest otherwise.' My voice sounds weak and rough.

'Sedation was the simplest method of ensuring your safety. We couldn't have you hurting yourself.' Ben smiles and reaches out towards me. I shuffle backwards, scowling at him.

Why are Techies so obsessed with touching everyone? 'Why am I here?'

'You're a participant in important research we're conducting.' Ben's smile tightens. 'It will be preferable, for everyone involved, if you participate willingly.'

'Sure it will. I guess the participation part is compulsory whereas the willing part is optional,' I snort.

Ben makes a gesture with his hand, and the three white-coated people hovering outside the room walk in, dragging several pieces of rattling equipment. The clanging of metal and glass cuts through me, making me wince. I recoil when I see a trolley with various tubes and syringes.

'I don't want them to touch me.' My voice trembles, the panic returns as I back against the wall.

Ben raises his hand to halt them while looking at me. 'Kit, physical contact is a necessity for this research to take place. Would it make you happier if one person was allocated to carry out all the procedures, to reduce the amount of people you come into contact?'

'I'd be happier if you let me go,' I snap.

'You don't really want to roam the outside alone, you'd never survive. We're doing you a favour. This way you'll be part of something which will benefit everyone.' He waves the people away. 'I'll carry out all the necessary procedures. One person will reduce your anxiety. Not that you need to be worried, we are monitored and checked regularly as you will be. You're basically one of us now.'

I grit my teeth. Pressing myself against the wall, I whisper, 'Does my family know I'm here? The Naturalist Council Leaders?'

Ben doesn't respond. He collects the trolley and brings it to the edge of the bed. I spot tubes and syringes; items I've never seen before only read about in books or heard Jenna describe. My whole life has been experienced through the writing of another, mostly from a time that is no longer in existence. I've never really lived. Or I have but only recently with Zach.

Zach...

'Firstly, I'll take a few samples. Then I will give you an injection,' Ben's voice continues its soothing tone. He's trying to pacify me. All he's doing is irritating me.

I know the game you're playing. Don't pretend to care about my comfort. All you want is to make this whole process easier for you.

Pressed against the wall, I shake my head as Ben steps forward, takes hold of my arm and slowly turns it. I flinch at the feel of his fingers against my skin, cold and unwanted, it causes my stomach to curl. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine it is Zach touching me but the lie only increases the tension gripping my body.

Does he know I was exiled? Is he looking for me or will he simply forget me?

A sharp prick against my arm is followed by a stinging sensation. I open my eyes, tears blurring my vision of the bare white walls around me.

'You need to relax, Kit,' Ben says.

How can I relax when I'm being held against my will, you moron?

I ignore Ben and focus on happy memories: me and Mattan making our wind chimes, the impressed proud faces of my parent's when we handed them over, my bike ride with Zach, kissing Zach. The only problem is these thoughts increase the tears welling up in my eyes and the ache of loss.

I have to escape, but where will I go?

My settlement will never let me return. I have no home and Ben was right, I won't survive outside. What would Alma advise me to do? She always told me to do what was best for me, but what should I choose when both options are horrendous. Do I run from here to wander alone until I die of starvation if Virulence doesn't get me first, or remain as a prisoner confined to this white blank sterile room being touched and prodded?

'I'll be back soon.' Ben gathers tubes with red liquid. Is that my blood? What does he want it for? Walking towards the door he adds, 'get some rest, Kit.'

I don't like him saying my name, it's too familiar and normal as though this is a perfectly ordinary arrangement. It's not.

Turning my back on him, I slump down onto the bed too exhausted to figure out what I'm going to do next.