Lab Rats: Intent on Escape

One

At first, I had no idea how to keep track of time. I'd been so utterly confused that I hadn't bothered to pay attention to how things were going. I just sat there. I refused to eat the slop they shoved in my direction every day, barely slept - only doing so when I was too exhausted to keep myself awake any longer. It was pure torture.

Then they took me into this iddy biddy room to tell me what was going on.

"Miss Porter - you've been chosen like many before you and many after you - to take part in an exclusive experiment. It's a once in a life-time opportunity and it's for a great deal of good as well.

We are trying to develop a cure for death. Yes, a cure. We have scientists working on it every second of every day and we're going through different protocols.

To find out of this works, we need people, like yourself, to experiment on. I don't want you to become alarmed... but you will die at some point of being within these walls. Don't worry though - we'll be bringing you back.

Until your time though, you'll be going through some drastic changes in your lifestyle. Because of your physique and appearance we've already decided that you will be a Survivors - physically superiror to those around you.

You'll be put on an intensive exercise program and your diet will be mostly carbohydrates. Little fat and sugar. You're to be as healthy as possible, strong too."

Of course when this man had finished his ludicrous speech, I screamed. I was all I could do after keeping myself in check throughout his entire explanation. A loud piercing scream that ended in wild sobs - and he just sat there, reclining back in his chair, adjusting his expensive suit slightly.

He wasn't young or old - his age was impossible to guess. He could have been in his early twenties or he could have been over fifty.

Since that day, I've managed to - just barely - keep a track of how long I've been in here. In each cell room there is a small window, just enough for a gust of air to enter the small, dimly lit rooms. Through them I've been able to tell when it's day and when it's night.

But the window is also my own version of hell. Every time I look out of it, all there is to see is water endless amounts of it. It's as if these windows are here not to tell us what time of day it is, but to crush our spirits - even if we could somehow get out, there'd be no where to go for hundreds of miles.

I've been using my nail to scratch the plaster surface of my wall. I now have eighty nine scratches in that wall. I'll never let a day go by without counting it. I might go insane if not.

Every day is the same as the one before. Nothing ever really changes. The only real freedom any of us get is when we're allowed into the main room for socialisation.

Because of the experiment and the way that it goes, not all of us are allowed to communicate. It's not many - mostly because of how deprivation of human contact has only ever had negative effects on the participants - but those that live this way have never been seen, only ever heard of.

Thankfully I'm not one of those. I'm allowed into this hall, which like everything else, is a dingy white. There's no colours in this place whatsoever. All of it's dank and dull, empty and lifeless. Constantly depressing. I miss colours sometimes. More at first than I do now - sometimes I prefer it. It's easier.

I was unbelievably relieved when I found out I wasn't going to be one of the un-social subjects. If I had been I never would have met Henry, Oscar and Willow.

Henry was the first. He met me when I was still 'new' - soft and weak, a pathetic quivering mess. He was kind to me when I was going through my denial stage. He soothed me, calmed me down enough to stop me from throwing the fits of rage I was prone to have. I've always had a bad temper - being in this place has only heightened that flaw.

Henry is on a slightly less intense program that I'm on. He's tall and although he seems to have once been naturally scrawny, he's got a resonable amount of muscle to him. Toned, defined muscle that's not too much. He's grown a little bigger since when I first met him.

He has these incredible eyes - since I'm admitting it to myself and no one else. They're always so soft and war, so intimate so that when he looks at me, I feel a littel woozy. It's a little silly really.

His dark longish hair looks - and probably feels - softer than anything I could ever do with my hair. It's enought to make a girl envious.

His face is slightly narrow, his chin and cheeks covered with a light shadow of dark stubble. Sometimes it grows a little fuller, but he's one of the 'super-hygienic' ones - he shaves every two days, a shower every morening and night - plus teeth brushed at least three times a day.

His nose is just wonderful. It makes his face complete - without it, he wouldn't be Henry. It's hooked and slightly crooked but it adds the perfect and entirely unique finishing touches to his appearance.

He told me that they'd caught him one day when he was walking his dog. He had no family - no wife, no kids, no parents... nothing. He went from foster home to foster home when he was a child until finally he was old enough to sort himself out.

And what happened to his dog? His beloved best friend of five years? They left her, she could be dead - but he hopes that she found a new owner, someone to love and take care of her.

After I met Henry, he introduced me to Oscar who had taken to Henry's kind nature almost immediately. Oscar had been six when they'd dragged him ruthlessly into this cruel place. Taken from his mother after a day at the beach, a treat since his mother worked nearly twenty four seven. It was normally his father who looked after him, but his mother had decided to take him out.

He’s small, small even for his age, and slight – thin. He’s always pale with huge bambi-like eyes that scream out his innocence to anyone willing to stop and look, just a glance is enough. Those eyes of his give a glimpse of the horror he’s been through, wiser than they should be for his age.

And then finally along came Willow. At first, she’d been this slightly chubby pretty girl when she’d came along two weeks earlier. They’ve been feeding her something like six-course meals every day since then, never allowing her any exercise – she’s not even allowed to pace her room.

Oscar calls her the lucky one because they ‘force’ her to watch TV and eat constantly. He doesn’t realise how that would be my living hell, not doing anything, becoming weak and useless, unable to help anyone – do anything.

Poor Willow, I feel sorry for her more often than I’d like to. Especially since it just makes me feel more useless. She hates the way things have turned out.

She’s short; despite being thirteen she’s only a little taller than Oscar. She has long, stringy strawberry blonde hair and slightly slanted green eyes. I often wonder if she’s perhaps Chinese or Japanese. But she refuses to share anything about her previous life, preferring to just keep it all quiet. I don’t even think her real name is Willow. She doesn’t seem like a Willow. But why not? To them, the scientists, we're just numbers.

“We have to do something.” Henry sighs stressfully, rubbing a hand over his face.

I kick him under the table and he looks up surprised. “Would you just shut up? What if someone’s listening in?” I hiss.

He glances around discreetly enough. “There’s no one paying attention to us.”

“They will be if you keep acting so inconspicuous!” I mutter.

“I’m not acting inconspicuous.” He rolls his eyes at me, smiles slightly.

I ignore the smile and look at the other two sitting at our table.

“You two know better than to just sit and yammering on about escape plans right?” I say sarcastically.

Both of them look at me sadly, their frowns matching.

“Don’t pick on them.”

“I’m not picking on them. I just don’t want them to say something stupid in front of a guard!” I snap quietly.

“I would never!” Oscar gasps quietly as if the idea is more ridiculous than a labradoodle. I mean seriously – what kind of dog is that?

“Just be sure to be careful.” I sit tensed at the table, my right fist clasped in my left hand tightly.

“We will.” Willow exhales nosily.

“I just don’t want anyone getting whipped.” I growl.

Being whipped is common for those who even attempt to step out of line. Of course for few of the lucky ones they have no fear of that happening – they don’t even have to worry about the tasers.

“I won’t be.” Willow doesn’t say it in a smug voice, not even close; instead she says it in an almost sad voice – because she is one of the lucky ones, their bodies needing to be kept in perfect condition.

“Then count yourself luck.” I snarl, spitting my words out harshly.

Nico gives me a look that clearly says I should be nicer to her but I find it difficult. It took me a long time to ‘settle’ down here. Even now I’m still anxious and nervous; jumpy.

How great is it that I’m one of the Survivors? Seriously? Which means I’m allowed an extra whipping if it’s felt needed to keep me in line.

I have such wonderful marks across my back where the whip has bit into my skin over and over again. So forgive me if I envy Willow for her Lifestyle that they picked for her.

“But he’s right, we have to do something – I want to go home to mommy.” Oscar whispers tearfully.

Henry ruffles his hair lightly; his reassuring smile – unfortunately a very convincing smile – spreads across his face. “You’ll go home one day Oscar.”

Henry is completely and utterly needed by them. Not me – them. I’m pretty damn sure I’d be utterly fine without them – probably better actually. Things would be easier, simpler.

But Oscar and Willow need Nico because he’s the kind one. He looks out for them – he’s always ready with a hug, a comforting word, anything they need – I wouldn’t truly know the extent of his kindness of course. Like I’d show such weakness.

“Henry, don’t give him empty promises.” I fix him with a look that’s close to a glare.

He holds my hard eyes with ease, refuses to let them drop. He’s worse than me for stubbornness. “They’re not empty. Either we’ll escape or this place will be found out.”

“Get serious!” I snap suddenly, angry beginning to ignite itself in my chest. “This place is in the middle of no-where! Haven’t you ever looked out of your god damn window?”

“Can I talk to you for a second? In private.” He asks firmly,

I look at the other two. They look between us worriedly. “Fine.”

I stand and he follows me to a corner of the hall, not too far from the table but far enough that we don’t have to worry about prying ears.

As we walk the short distance, I risk a quick glance around. The hall is filled with at least a hundred people today. I dread to think the total number of people here, being held against their will.

Some people are on their own, others in groups, the odd couple in pairs. It varies from person to person and how they’ve reacted to this hell. What’s really creepy is the fact that some people look genuinely happy to be here, helping and all. It’s ridiculous.

“What is it?” I fold my arms across my chest tightly.

He reaches a hand forward and rests it briefly on my arm as if to comfort, I flinch back when I feel my pulse jerk in response. He drops his hand uselessly – like always, he forgets my hate of being touched. He seems sad about it, hurt almost.

“Listen, I know they’ve been tougher on your since you’re a Survivor but you have to remember that they need hopes – right now you’re crushing them with the whole ‘keep it real’ attitude.”

“I don’t want their hopes to be high only to have them destroyed.” I respond, beginning to tap my foot in impatience, the conversation like millions before.

“They’re kids.”

“So what? They won’t be for much longer.”

“Oscar’s only six. He won’t be growing up any time soon... and Willow’s only just turned thirteen recently. It doesn't make her an adult."

“They’re going to need to grow up soon in a place like this.”

“One day, we’re getting out of here – do you understand? We won’t be here forever.”

“You’re right.”

His eyes show his surprise. “I am?”

“Yeah. We will leave one day. In a body bag.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up everywhere. Before he can respond, there’s a commotion nearby. We both turn to look as a little girl is knocked onto her back. She screams as the guard towers over to her, as usual their protective clothing odd. Entire body padding and an almost helmet type hat, the face hidden behind a shatter-proof visor.

“I’ll show you, brat!” A male voice roars.

I watch in slow motion as he reaches for his whip.

“Shit.”

Henry's voice is guttral hiss. I look at him, eyes narrowed slightly. He glances at me and then begins to move over.

I only have the tiniest second to decide. I can let him go, let him interfere – and probably have to watch him get whipped. He doesn’t normally get involved but this... this is only a child. She can’t be any older than Oscar – probably younger. It’s wrong.

Or I can try to stop him. Which won’t work and will probably result in us both getting in trouble.

Or my final option. Jump in and get involved before he can. I’ll get a whipping but... but at least he and the little girl won’t.

I’m not scared of a whipping and I can’t just stand here and do nothing.

So I get there first, lightning fast – just as he raises the whip high above his head. I tackle him to the floor. He snarls and we roll over and over, both struggling to be top. I hear Nico shout behind me.

“Shatter-proof, huh?” I laugh when I’m top. “Let’s test that.”

I bring my fist up and smash it against the visor.

Of course it doesn’t do much damage but I keep trying, feeling my fist aching. I get a taser in the back just as I see a crack appear.

I roll over, my body jerking in response, twitching madly. I’m unconscious for only a moment, the world dim and dark – but I force myself out of it, to wake up by sheer will power alone.

I get to my feet, ignoring the shocked look from Henry who had clearly been hoping I’d stay down – and roar as I charge at the two guards. I take them both down, knocking my head off the ground in the process. I see stars and then before anything else can happen, a fist smacks me in the face and I once more, for a little longer, lose consciousness.

When I awaken, it’s because I’ve been slapped in the face. I’m bent over a table, the scratching material of my shirt lifted, two guards on either side of me pinning me down.

In front of me stands everyone. I see Henry at the front, as usual his face his twisted in horror and concern.

“Yet again we must show you what happens when you step out of line.” The female voice behind me is devoid of emotion, empty.

I smile a wiry smile in the direction of Henry, Oscar and Willow. They know I’m tough; a few whips aren’t going to kill me, I'll live to see another day.

I hear a short exchange and when I turn my head I see one guard hand another guard a whip. I notice how this guard has a crack in his visor.

I can almost imagine his victorious smile as he lifts the whip up high. I close my eyes as he brings it down. I can’t stop the first scream. It’s impossible to even try to not scream that first time – despite expecting the pain... you don’t quite expect it as severely as it is. Over time, it’s like your memory is slightly clouded.

I don’t scream again.

Finally, after six I finally succumb to the darkness. I don’t even struggle; I just let it take over me, knowing that it won’t be like the other times today. I won’t be waking for a while.