Elimination (The Mind Breaker Book 1) Page 9

  I manage to swallow only a few scoops before understanding what he was expecting to happen. My mind becomes hazy. The chamber swirls in front of my eyes and I lose balance, falling on my side. The floor seems to sway under me. They’ve poisoned the food!

  I open my mouth to speak, but a heavy cloud of fatigue forces me to relax.

  “That’s a little gift from Holtzmann,” I hear Chase’s voice from above. “He didn’t want you to remain awake and worry your entire last night. Don’t worry, breaker. It’s only sleep meds.”

  His silhouette dissolves into an overlapping darkness and I lose myself in a heavy dreamless sleep.

  I wake up with only one thought, that I’m going to die today. Still being under the effect of whatever drug they spiked my last supper with, I don’t panic or feel worried. I only regret of having wasted my last hours sleeping. I wanted to spend that time thinking of Kitty. I intended to be brave and die well, not meet death from a half drugged and senseless state.

  Why did they do it? They probably chose to drug me to avoid resistance. They want everything to go smoothly for the benefit of the TV cameras.

  Looks like they’re succeeding. Being drowsy and disoriented I can’t resist too much.

  The officers come in, yawning and appearing bored. Killing a breaker is just an everyday monotonous task for these guys.

  Lola follows behind, barking orders to her crew.

  “He can’t wear the mask on his face during the execution,” she says. “We have to do something to make his face more presentable to our viewing audience.”

  “We could make him over as a drug addict,” her cameraman suggests.

  “Brilliant!” Lola exclaims happily.

  I guess I do look like an addict right now. My eyes are unfocused and I stare into space, being in a semi catatonic state. Nevertheless, the officers grab me up by my arms and hold firmly, while Lola’s crew works on my face.

  “Put some make up on the bruises,” Lola yells. “People may think that he was abused, possibly triggering some false sympathy.”

  I don’t resist, oblivious to what they’re doing. I just want to go back to sleep. They must have used a really strong sedative on me.

  “Honey, would you do me a favor?” Lola asks me. “Could you please scream or threaten the witnesses during your execution? We wouldn’t want your show to be boring.”

  If I wasn’t so drugged, I might slap this lady. Instead, I just turn away, keeping silent.

  “Please,” Lola begs. “We really need to maintain higher ratings.”

  “One hour to injection time,” I hear Wheeler’s voice. “Bring him to the execution room for prepping.”

  The officers lead me out of the chamber. My legs are weak and I can hardly walk. They have to almost drag me. One hour, I think. They’ll kill me in one hour.

  Suddenly, I realize that I won’t get a chance to escape. I can’t run. I can’t use hypnosis. This is it, I think. The end of the road. The sedative in my blood muffles all emotion and I feel nothing. Maybe being heavily medicated is for the best.

  As I enter the execution room, my eyes glue to the gurney and the intravenous bag hung on a metal pole. This is where everything will happen. I had no idea what method they’d use to kill me, but it’s obvious now. Lethal injection.

  It’s supposed to be painless, I guess. At least preferable to shuddering in agony in the gas chamber, fried in an electric chair, or being hung.

  I see Holtzmann dressed in white laboratory clothing, checking the poisonous concoction in the bag. Is he the chosen one to perform everything?

  The officers instruct me to lie down on the gurney and strap me down. They step quickly away, probably following protocol. Nobody speaks, each being focused on his role.

  One wall has a large window looking out onto another room with several rows of chairs. I watch people coming in and taking seats. They’re the witnesses to my execution. They look excited as if waiting anxiously for a spectacular performance at the theater. I notice Mandy smiling and chatting up other guests. There’s Tim, looking at me with contempt and disgust. They’ve both come to enjoy watching my demise.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Wheeler announces.

  I notice a phone on the wall. I hope for it to ring and somebody to postpone or better yet, cancel the execution. It doesn’t happen.

  “Five minutes,” Wheeler’s voice interrupts the silence.

  “Do you have any last words?” an unknown man, possibly the warden of this prison, asks.

  I shake my head no. I have nothing to say to my killers.

  Wheeler nods and Holtzmann takes my arm, wiping across my skin with a wet cotton ball. This must be one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen in my life. Even during the process of killing me, he’s afraid of putting some germs into my system. I glance at him. Holtzmann catches my eye and then winks. It seems strange. Although, I can’t really tell if he’s winked or just suffered a nervous twitch.

  “It’s all right, Rex,” Holtzmann whispers quietly. “You’ve received approval to become a subject in my study.”

  I don’t have time to think of what that might mean. The needle pierces my skin, quickly finding the vein. I watch anxiously as the venomous liquid flows through the tube into my bloodstream. My body relaxes. I feel very sedated. Then the poison paralyzes me to the point I can’t even close my eyes.

  Think of her, I repeat in my mind.

  Kitty is my last thought before I lose consciousness.

  Part 2

  Chapter 8

  A monotone humming noise hurts my ears. It’s so irritating that I have to force my eyes open to try and find the source of my discomfort. My vision is blurry. I can spot some figures around me, but can’t quite make out their faces.

  What’s happened? Am I alive or dead? I don’t know for sure. But I do know I want the annoying noise to stop so I can go back to sleep.

  I’m lying on some type of hard, cold metallic surface. I sense motion, but my body is still. Where am I? I raise my head to look around, but still can’t focus. I manage to hold my head up only for an instant before it drops back onto the metal floor. I’m still too weak. Feels like every muscle in my body has been paralyzed and my bones turned into soft mush. I can’t even feel my legs.

  After a few more minutes pass, my senses begin awakening. I can now at least tell that I’m inside an aircraft. The disturbing noise is the sound of an engine. How did I end up here? I can’t remember anything.

  “Why the heck is he awake?” a nearby voice questions. I can recognize it even suffering from amnesia. Wheeler. Somebody I could never forget.

  “I don’t want to overdose him,” a different voice answers. I guess this must be the psycho guy who performed tests on me.

  “Put him back down,” Wheeler commands.

  “Any additional sedative could induce a coma. If he doesn’t awaken, you’ll be held accountable,” the psycho guy says.

  “More sedative or the butt of my rifle,” Wheeler counters.

  A needle pricks my skin, and the noises of engines and voices disappear.

  When I come out of the dark abyss, I can see only the ceiling above. It’s white and flawless. No other thoughts come to mind. I feel good and nothing bothers me. I stare into the perfect whiteness, being in some state of euphoria.

  As my memory begins to return, I wonder about Kitty. Is she safe? Has Elimination captured her? Then I remember the execution. I’m supposed to be dead. So how in the world am I still breathing?

  Unable to move, I feel the pressure of tight straps against my wrists and ankles. I’m strapped down on some sort of the gurney.

  Overcoming my weakness, I turn my heavy head to the right. I see a large sterile looking area filled with empty gurneys and medical equipment. It resembles the operating room from my hallucinations about the girl with electrodes protruding out from her shaved head.

  A gray-haired man with gold colored glasses sits in a chair close by. He’s dressed like a doctor. I recogn
ize him. His name is Carrel. He’s the guy who kept insisting I was uselessness, even approving my death.

  He notices my glance and smiles.

  “Do you believe in life after death?” he asks. “If you do, you must be in hell.”

  Not one for warm greetings I guess. Watching him carefully, I remain silent.

  “You remember me, don’t you?” Carrel asks. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  He reaches for me, grabbing my head and directing a small flashlight into my eyes. I squint, trying to resist. I’m still too weak. I’ve probably been heavily drugged.

  Having checked my eyes and taken my blood pressure, Carrel leaves me for a few seconds. Then he returns with a needle.

  “Let me help you wake up,” he says, injecting something into my vein. “We’ve got little time.”

  The medicine kicks in almost instantly, increasing my pulse and sending a warm impulse throughout my body. I gasp, shuddering from the strange sensation.

  “Better?” Carrel asks, grinning.

  “What the heck is it?” I mumble. I still can’t completely control my tongue and lips.

  Carrel doesn’t answer.

  “Welcome to your hell, breaker,” he says. “First, let me congratulate you on being alive. You’ve probably already understood that your execution was just a well-planned performance. We’ve spared your life, only sedating you deeply. But don’t get too happy. Very soon you’ll come to regret being alive. I personally guarantee it.”

  He pauses, watching my reaction. I just stare at him.

  “Officially you’re dead,” Carrel continues. “Your empty casket was even buried a few days ago. What that means, breaker, is that now we can do whatever we wish with you. You officially no longer even exist.”

  “Isn’t all that too much trouble?” I ask. “Why bother with a fake execution and funeral if you only plan to torture me anyway?”

  “It’s all been about ratings for the show,” Carrel answers. “The public needs an enemy. We gave them you. Your execution was a big hit, received the highest ratings of the year.”

  He gives a highly satisfied laugh.

  “Whatever,” I say, turning away. It doesn’t stop Carrel. He walks around the gurney, placing his face near mine.

  “You’re my lab rat now,” he says. “You’re lying in the Elimination primary research facility. Where at least you’ll now be serving a scientific purpose. The moment we get what we need, you’ll be put down for real. If you’d only be good enough to last till then, of course.”

  I’m disgusted. I can’t help myself. I spit right into his arrogant, wrinkled face.

  This angers Carrel. He slaps me, yelling and promising to make me regret it.

  “I’ll teach you some respect, breaker,” Carrel says, still trembling from anger and pointing his finger. “Trust me, I know precisely how to deal with spiteful little pigs like you.”

  I don’t worry about Carrel’s threats. I’ve died once already. What else can they do to me?

  The door suddenly slides open and Wheeler along with an unfamiliar middle aged man enter. The stranger wears a business suit and tie. Three guards follow closely behind, carrying rifles and gazing suspiciously at me. I recognize Chase as one.

  “Good morning, Rex,” the unknown man says. “I’m Warden Browning, in charge of this prison and acting director of the breaker rehabilitation program.”

  His voice sounds soft, but I perceive a hidden menace underneath.

  “I believe that even the most evil of souls deserve an opportunity for redemption,” Browning continues. “Here you’ll get an opportunity to start fresh, serving the greater purposes of our country. If you’re cooperative enough and manage to demonstrate some useful talents, you may possibly earn your pardon. You may even become a contributing member in a future society whereby mind breakers and normal humans live together harmoniously, and in peace.”

  Browning smiles, acting like the most righteous man in the Republic. I don’t believe one single word he says.

  “On the other hand, should you show any resistance or refuse to work with us in any way, you’ll be sent straight to the Death Camp,” he threatens. “This is the name for another prison housing only the most dangerous of breakers. Nobody has managed to last longer than two months there. If you want to live, you’ll simply have to become very agreeable and respectful. I have great hopes for you. Don’t disappoint me.”

  He glances at Wheeler.

  “The subject is yours,” Browning says, leaving. Chase and Wheeler remain in the room.

  “Did you miss me, freak?” Wheeler asks.

  Dr. Carrel smiles, ready to watch the fun. I decide to keep silent. Just like I did during my interrogation at the jail.

  “Hit him,” Wheeler commands.

  Chase looks back in surprise.

  “Are you deaf?” Wheeler growls. “I said hit him.”

  Chase approaches me and sways his rifle. I expect my face to be smashed, but he strikes very gingerly with the butt of his rifle.

  “Come on, Chase,” Wheeler groans. “Don’t hit like a girl. I know you can do better than that.”

  Wincing, Chase strikes me again, this time a crunching blow to my head. The room blackens for a second as sharp pain shoots through my head. Wheeler smiles.

  “That’s better,” he says, approaching. “A hearty welcoming is very important. Now I have a few questions, breaker. It’s in your best interest to answer truthfully. What’s your real name?”

  I keep silent.

  “In case you’re wondering, cockroach, that was question one. What’s your real name?” Wheeler repeats.

  I turn my face away, determined not to let Wheeler intimidate me.

  “Cat got your tongue, breaker?” he asks. “Let’s see what we can do about that. Chase!”

  Chase hits me again. Blood sprays from my nose. I’ve been through worse, I tell myself, remaining silent.

  “I see,” Wheeler says. “So you don’t care if you live or die. Well, in this case I have a little surprise for you. Chase, bring her in.”

  I feel a jolt of panic. Have they captured Kitty? I dread this far more than my own death.

  Chase leaves the room. We wait for several long torturous minutes.

  Only not Kitty, please, I beg in my mind.

  Chase returns, leading a skinny woman wearing an inmate jumpsuit, handcuffed and collared. Her face is swollen and bruised, covered in dried blood. This is not Kitty, I realize, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Are you surprised, breaker?” Wheeler asks. “Do you recognize your little friend?”

  My friend? I don’t have any friends besides Kitty. I take a closer look at the battered woman. Her features have been so distorted that it takes me a few seconds to realize who she is. They’ve captured Jessie, the girl who helped us hide. What can I do? All I can think of is to pretend Jessie is a complete stranger to me.

  Wheeler and Chase strap Jessie into a metal chair. It’s obvious that she’s in great pain. Her head is drooping and her eyes unfocused. They’ve beaten her viciously.

  Think of Kitty, I remind myself. Your main goal is to protect your sister. Don’t fail her.

  “What do you say now, breaker?” Wheeler asks. “What about this girl? I know she’s your friend. But can you continue to keep silent while watching your friend being killed?”

  My hands squeeze into fists. The straps on the gurney keep me from any action. They’re too thick and hard to tear.

  It pleases Wheeler immensely to see me squirm. He laughs and then suddenly snaps Jessie’s jaw with a heavy punch. Jessie utters a small moan as her head lolls to the side and then drops down.

  I can’t stand it.

  “Stop it,” I demand. “There’s no need in beating this poor girl. She’s nobody to me. I’ve never even seen her before.”

  “Really?” Wheeler asks. “Then why are you so worried?”

  He grabs Jessie’s short hair and pulls her head back. Looking into her foggy eyes,
he asks, “You know this guy, don’t you darling?”

  “Go to hell,” she snarls through bloodied teeth.

  Wheeler strikes her again, breaking her nose this time.

  “Stop it, Wheeler, you freaking coward!” I yell.

  Chase stands motionless on the other side of Jessie.

  “You’re the only one who can stop this, breaker,” Wheeler says. “Just answer my questions. What’s your real name? And where did your little girlfriend get away to?”

  Although telling him my name can’t really hurt me, it may be a way for Elimination to track down my blood relatives. As for Kitty’s location, I have no idea where she went. My headstrong sister could have followed my instructions or done something entirely different.

  “Answer, freak!” Wheeler commands. “Her blood will be on your hands if you make me kill her.”

  He backhands Jessie. I turn away, unable to watch.

  “No, breaker,” Wheeler growls. “Don’t turn your head. You have to watch!”

  He approaches and grabs my head.

  “Look at her,” he whispers. “Look what you’ve done to her. She’s suffering. Are you really ready to just let her die? Are you so heartless?”

  Wheeler turns my face toward Jessie. Blood drips from her nose, running down her lips and chin. She spits on the floor, groaning.

  “Leave him be, you idiot,” Jessie says in a surprisingly calm voice. “I’ve already told you, he’s never seen me before.”

  Apparently, this is a message for me. She’s letting me know we’re on the same page.

  “Chase, shut her up!” Wheeler commands.

  Chase approaches Jessie and then hesitates. Seems like he can’t decide what to do.

  “Keep your mouth shut,” he demands.

  “What the hell was that, Chase?” Wheeler asks.

  “With all due respect sir, I think we should stand down,” Chase answers. “She’s really messed up already. I doubt she can take much more.”

  “Do I have to do everything for myself, wimp?” Wheeler shouts. He steps toward Chase and shoves him away from Jessie. Chase looks perplexed as if he doesn’t want any trouble with Wheeler, but continuing with the torture is too hard for him.