Reaping What Grows

At least it's not more needles. She doesn't fight back again, not yet.

 

Several other tools come out before Katters is finished, and she is perhaps a little grateful that the specimen has deigned to cooperate again.

Once all of the girl’s vitals have been logged, the pen-like instrument from before makes a reappearance, and Katters takes another sample of the girl’s skin. She bandages her arm, then leaves.

 

Vivi retreats to the bed and curls up.

A map...or she could just use someone, anyone who comes close enough. Not a guard; they're too strong, too tough. Maybe one of the doctors. They won't be able to do anything if she has a blade held against one of their, what are they called, the things that make people bleed out when they're cut. It's been a long time since she's been properly human, and she's going to have to figure out where those things are again. Is there one on necks? Are the scissors even sharp enough?

Well, that last question doesn't matter too much. With enough force behind them, she can cause whatever damage she needs to.

 

“Alright,” Katters says as she returns to the workstation. “We got a good baseline, should be able to work with this.”

Noel mists the hair-in-a-pot with a spray bottle. “Finally,” she says, “something going right?”

“Bare fuckin’ minimum,” Katters says. “But sure.”

Noel re-wraps the pot and puts it away while Katters separates the skin sample into three dishes.

Baines is already pulling on his jacket. “Hell,” he says, “good enough for me to celebrate. Either of you want to hit up the bar?”

“I’d love a drink,” Noel says.

“Sure,” Katters says, “just let me finish setting these up. I’ll meet you upstairs?”

 

Vivi closes her eyes and wonders what kind of security measures she'll have to get through. Anything that needs fingerprints should be fine if she has a doctor with her, but what about number pads? What if there's a code that doesn't open doors, that just sets off alarms and traps her inside? Maybe...

She drifts off and is asleep within minutes.

 

Katters arrives bright and early the next day with the guard and another syringe.

 

Vivi stands and turns hesitantly towards them. "What's in there?" she asks again, trying to keep her voice steady.

 

“Medicine,” Katters says.

The guard holds the girl.

Katters sticks the needle in and another cc of fluid disappears into the girl’s arm.

 

Vivi tries to get free, but the guard's grip is too tight. She spits in the doctor's face instead.

 

Katters jerks back, and the needle jerks in the girl’s arm before it’s torn free. It clatters to the floor.

Katters wipes the spit from her face and grabs the girl’s shirtfront, again, all of her teeth bared. The guard attempts to pull the girl back, but Katters is pulling her forward, leaning toward her with her mouth open like she’s going to bite her—

But then Katters’ mouth snaps shut and her arm spasms, twisting the girl’s shirt in her fist before letting it go. The guard pulls the girl behind him, lets go of one of her arms, his hand going for something on his belt.

Katters takes a breath. She raises her hands in front of her, fingers twisted into claws, crushing the air. She trembles, shudders, relaxes, breathes — in, out — and, finally, glares at the girl.

She picks up the syringe before she leaves.

 

Vivi smiles to herself as she watches the doctor leave, but her satisfaction at having annoyed the doctor again is short lived. The injection spot hurts, more than any of the ones before. She presses it with a finger, but that doesn't help much. She sits back down and tries to ignore it.

It works, until her head starts to hurt.

 

Katters kicks the wall before she leaves, storming down the hall with the guard trailing behind.

She’s only gone for a few minutes, however, before she returns with a notebook and a folding chair. She sets the chair up just outside the girl’s cell and settles in to observe the specimen.

 

Vivi raises a middle finger at the doctor, but doesn't do anything more. She lies down on the bed and tries to sleep, to get away from the headache.

She's not sure how much time passes while she's lying down, but... She sits up suddenly and makes to get up, but she's not fast enough. She leans over and vomits on the floor.

What was in that syringe?

 

Katters scribbles something down on the notepad before waving the guard back over. They exchange words, and he leaves, and Katters sits back in her chair and watches the girl.

Minutes later, the guard and two more people arrive — one in a navy-blue jumpsuit, the other in a lab coat. The three of them enter the cell and the janitor starts cleaning up the vomit, but not before the doctor can take some of it as a sample.

The guard stands next to the girl’s bed, which makes it difficult for the doctor to get her temperature. But he manages, stretching past the guard with his long limbs and sticking a thermometer in her ear. When he’s done, he also takes her pulse, two fingers held against her carotid artery.

The janitor finishes cleaning the floor just as the doctor finishes with the girl, and the three men exit the cell, stopping outside to talk with Katters. She jots down the doctor’s findings and listens to the janitor, nodding attentively. The men leave, and Katters and the girl are alone again.

 

Vivi curls back up and continues to ignore the doctor.

 

Hours pass. Katters leaves, she comes back, more hours pass. She takes notes.

The lights dim. Katters folds up her chair and leaves.

Hours pass.

 

Vivi decides she feels okay enough to sit up, so she does so. Her head feels too light for a moment, but the feeling goes away quickly. She's thirsty, but there's no water around. Maybe a guard will come by soon.

 

Someone does come by soon, with a tray of food — crispy pasta and mushy vegetables — and a glass of water.

 

She's still feeling too nauseous to eat the food, but she drinks the water, relieved. The guard leaves with the food and the cup, and Vivi lies back down and actually manages to get to sleep this time.

 

It’s bright and early, again, when Katters returns. She’s brought nothing with her but the guard, who rouses the girl from her bed and pulls her to the door.