WICKED told them the Trial was over -no more tests, no more lies, but Frankie had been deceived enough to know that the statement alone could never be true.
Truthfully, she wanted to die. She wanted to leave this cruel world of being experimented an...
THE WICKED DUO decided to sleep after they took turn showering, around three in the morning, and they woke up to Dr. Lebeau's not-so-subtle wake up call four hours later.
"Without further ado," she jerked the curtain open with one hand movement, letting the Scorch's brutal sunlight pierced through their eyelids, "We'll take your blood first, then do the spinal tap. It won't take long."
Frankie rubbed her tired eyes as she sat up, still half-dazed, and tied her hair back into a ponytail.
"Good morning to you, too, doctor," Reggie grunted, "Don't we get the chance to brush our teeth and wash our faces first?"
"No."
Dr. Lebeau exited the room, like her current jobdesk was only to open the curtain. She left the door open as she went, and a minute later, two nurses came into the room, pushing metallic carts bearing an assortment of needles, tubes, and labels. One was the lady who escorted Frankie yesterday morning and the other was a young, Caucasian man.
"Good morning, Frances," the nurse lady greeted as she put on a pair of latex gloves.
The former began massaging the latter's forearm, locating a clear and straight vein.
The venepuncture marks and bruises from her previous blood draws were still visible.
The nurse fastened a blue tourniquet around her arm and took a sealed needle from the pile on her cart. "Alright. You know how this works."
Frankie nodded.
An alcohol swab and a pinch-like sting later, the procedure began.
They were half-way through filling the fourth tube when a loud alarm blared throughout the vicinity, followed by pulsating red lights and frantic announcement.
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"Warning. Subjects on the loose. Initiate lockdown. I repeat, subjects on the loose. Initiate lockdown. Approach with extreme caution —they're all armed."
Frankie looked at Reggie. First sign of trouble came way faster than they had imagined.
Reggie took the first action. He elbowed his nurse right at his stomach and kicked his chest, sending him hard against the wall. After an audible groan, he drifted off to dreamland.
Frankie's nurse yelped in fear and jumped a step back. The glass tube in her hands fell onto the floor, breaking into shards and a puddle of blood.
"I won't hurt you," Frankie said, "If you keep quiet and still."
She took the needle and tourniquet off her arm.
"Reg, my leg—"
"Got it!" Reggie snatched her orthosis from the nightstand, handed it to her, and crouched by her bed.
"What—"
"We're faster this way. Come on."
Frankie frowned. She wasn't thrilled with the thought of being a burden.
