The Last Bastion of the Living (The Last Bastion #1)(29)

“Dwayne,” she whispered, “get off me.”

“Did she say something?” a familiar male voice asked.

“Vanguard Martinez, wake up.” It was Dr. Curran.

Eyelids fluttering, Maria tried to pull herself up out of the darkness. It was so cold it hurt and she struggled to draw a breath.

“Open your eyes, Vanguard Martinez. You can do it.”

Shapes swam above her. Dark forms hovered beneath an ocean of white. Pain pulsated behind her eyes, then faded as her vision slowly cleared.

Dr. Curran leaned over her with Mr. Petersen at her side. “Vanguard,” Mr. Petersen said in a short tone, “identify yourself.”

Maria tried to swallow, but her throat felt painfully dry. “Vanguard Maria Martinez,” she answered groggily.

“Well, she can speak,” Mr. Petersen said.

“They could all speak,” Dr. Curran answered in a terse voice. “Maria, please look at me.”

It was hard to focus. Her brain felt muddled and her thoughts were like fleeing ghosts. It was hard to concentrate.

“Maria, look at me,” Dr. Curran ordered again.

Maria finally rested her gaze directly on Dr. Curran, but it was Dwayne that filled her mind’s eye. She missed him with all her soul and couldn’t understand why he wasn’t here with her.

“Where am I?” she rasped, confusion still snatching coherent thoughts away from her. Images of the last few days flashed through her mind, but avoided being strung into a cohesive narrative.

“You’re in the SWD facility. You volunteered for a special mission to fight the Inferi Scourge. Do you remember?” Dr. Curran asked.

Like puzzle pieces snapping together, her memories began to interlock, completing the picture. “Did it work? Am I immune now?”

A whisper of a smile touched the doctor’s face and she slightly nodded. “We believe so. We just need to complete a few more tests.”

Pulling on the restraints, Maria struggled to stretch her body. Though she was certain she was now completely awake, her body felt strangely remote. She could feel her limbs straining against the restraints, but felt disconnected from the action.

“Please, let me up,” Maria gasped.

“We can’t do that yet,” Mr. Petersen answered.

“I feel…odd,” Maria complained, blinking her eyes against the harsh light, her voice scratchy. The robotic arms began to move over her and she gasped. “Please! No more shots.”

“We just need to do a few tests,” Dr. Curran assured her.

With the delicate touch of a well-trained nurse, the robotic hands took skin samples, hair, blood, and a swab from the inside of her cheek. Maria shivered at their touch, trying to shirk away from them, the memory of the painful needle too fresh in her mind.

“It burned,” Maria whimpered.

“What did?” Mr. Petersen asked.

“The first shot. It burned. It hurt so bad I thought I was dying.” It was hard to speak above a whisper.

Mr. Petersen smirked.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you.”

“How do you feel?” Dr. Curran asked, turning her gaze away from a screen to study Maria’s expression.

“Numb. Like my nerve endings are shorting out or something. I don’t feel like I’m really connected to my body yet. When does it wear off?”

“It doesn’t,” Mr. Petersen said with a slight shrug. “Get used to it.”

“Would you mind not speaking to my patient right now? I don’t need you upsetting her,” Dr. Curran said sharply. “In fact, I suggest you leave the room.”

“You know I am under orders to observe, Dr. Curran.”

“You can watch the proceedings with the others.”

“I am fine here.”

“I insist,” Dr. Curran asserted. “In fact, let me escort you. I need a word with you. Now.”

Maria could hear the two people march from the room and the door slide shut behind them. Pulling on her restraints again, her anger began to get the best of her.

“Could someone please let me go?” Turning her head, she tried to look around the room. No other technicians or doctors appeared to be in the room with her. “Dammit.”

Relaxing her arms, she closed her hands into tight fists. The action felt remote and odd. Curious, she slowly dug her fingernails into her palms. She could feel the pressure, but not the sharp slice of a fingernail against skin. She pushed the tips of her fingers into her flesh even harder, but still felt nothing but the steady pressure.

The room was strangely silent and it wore on her nerves.

“Hello? Dr. Curran?”

She flexed her toes and wiggled her fingers. Something wasn’t right.

The silence tormented her.

It had been so loud in the room before that horrible needle had sliced into her chest. At least she wasn’t in pain from that part of the procedure.

The terrible taste in her mouth was not going away and she kept struggling to swallow.

The room was so quiet. The robotic arms were withdrawn into the ceiling and the monitors weren’t even beeping.

Maria’s eyes widened as the implications of the silence became clear to her. Turning her head, she strained to see the monitoring screens on the equipment. A few were still showing data, but one was ominously silent, a straight line cutting across its width.