“I will give you a lot more in a minute,” Reaper said in that sweet, rumbling voice that made my skin tingle. “First, I need to give you a small injection of proteins that will help your body get back to health. And then, I want to run a couple of tests on you to make sure you don’t suffer from some other serious conditions that need to be treated right away.”
I didn’t really want to wait or to be examined, but his request was reasonable. Plus, I didn’t want to make him upset with me. He pulled the two bags that were slung around his neck and placed them on the table. My mouth watered—or at least tried to—at the sight of the second bottle of water inside one of them. But Reaper picked a sealed container from the other bag, flipped open its lid, and pulled out some kind of tissue. He gently rubbed it over the exposed skin of my arm. The wetness surprised me, although it shouldn’t have. The wet wipes didn’t have the medicated scent of a sterile solution but smelled enticingly fresh.
It suddenly struck me how dirty I must appear to him. I’d been living with my own stench and filth for so many years, I no longer noticed it. A wave of shame fell over me. I wasn’t a dirty person, but water had been too precious to waste on laundry and bathing. The particle shower had also become defective a while back, and I didn’t have the technical knowledge to fix it. I almost opened my mouth to apologize for how badly I must stink but remained quiet. It was stupid to think he hadn’t noticed, especially considering he used four wipes on the same spot on my arm before deeming it reasonably clean enough. But just in case, I wouldn’t draw his attention to it.
Reaper took a hypospray from his belt before lifting it to my arm. “This will sting a little,” he warned.
I nodded, expecting some major discomfort when he injected me with its contents, but it barely tingled.
“I’m going to take a blood sample from you and analyze it to see if there are any other health issues, and then I will scan you for other internal injuries. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
He removed some kind of box from the same bag that had contained the wipes. After cleaning the tip of my index finger, Reaper pricked it with the leanest stylus I had ever seen—or at least, that’s what it looked like to my blurred vision. He then inserted it inside the box, making me realize it was some sort of analyzer.
“I’m now going to perform the scan,” Reaper continued. “At the same time, I’m going to ask you a few questions. Is it okay if I record your answers for our Medical Officer?” he asked.
I nodded again. It struck me as odd that he would think it would bother me. How else was the doctor going to help me? Still, I liked that he didn’t try to do anything against my will. It further reassured me that he would indeed do me no harm.
“How much do you see of me?” he asked.
I projected an image of a manly silhouette with his half-moon horn, surrounded in fog.
“So, very little,” he replied.
I cringed, realizing I’d once again failed to use my words. “Yes, little,” I said, pleasantly surprised that my throat didn’t hurt as much anymore, despite the thirst—although now bearable—that still plagued me.
He ran a handheld device I recognized as a scanner over the throbbing ports on my temples to which I used to attach my optical aid.
“Hmm…” Reaper said. “Your ports are heavily infected. You must not use your device again until you are fully healed, or you might become completely blind or cause yourself some serious brain damage.”
This time, I caught myself seconds before I would project an image. “I… I know. I use it rarely. It’s…” I paused, looking for the word.
“Painful?” Reaper offered.
“Yes. But also… Hmmm…”
“Defective?”
“Yes! Defective. Thank you,” I said, stupidly feeling accomplished that I hadn’t used imagery, even though I hadn’t remembered the word on my own.
“I will need to look at your optical aid to see if we can repair it or give you an even better one,” Reaper said in a take-charge tone that gave me pleasant shivers.
After so many years being the one trying to keep everyone inside the base alive, it was wonderful to be taken care of, to have someone else take on the responsibility of seeing to my welfare. And Reaper was so gentle. He was so tall—at least two heads above me—and so massively muscular, I never expected such a tender and delicate touch from him. His fingers, as they brushed my dirty, greasy hair away from my face, were the softest thing I had ever experienced. For a split second, I was taken aback as his hands had been very calloused when I’d examined him earlier. But that was his corpse. He was now back in a new body, and I needed him to explain to me how his new body had matured so fast.
However, he proceeded to bombard me with endless questions about allergies, symptoms, known illnesses, any current pains, my diet, and so on. While I knew them to be important, I was getting annoyed. I just wanted more of his amazingly clean water and to fall asleep to the hypnotic sound of his voice.
I didn’t know if I had answered all of his questions, or if he’d sensed my growing reticence, but he finally put down his scanner and pulled out the second bottle. I failed to silence a moan of pleasure when the first drop fell on my tongue. Reaper chuckled, and his arm possessively tightened around me. I snuggled more comfortably against him and forced myself to swallow the contents of the bottle at a reasonable pace. By the time I finished, I was losing the battle to keep my eyes opened. My Creckel companions, full-bellied and content, had surrendered to their food coma moments after I had started drinking that second bottle.
The last thing I remembered before sleep claimed me was praying that if this had been a delirious hallucination, that I should never rise from it.
I woke up with a start to the sound of a loud impact in the hallway. Brees was already on the move by the time I regained my bearings. The instant panic that wanted to take over me immediately faded when I once more felt the soothing presence of Reaper’s hard body still holding me on his lap.
“Do not be afraid, Janelle,” Reaper said in a soft voice. “My team has made a larger opening, wide enough that I should be able to get you out. But it is too small yet for your companions.”
My heart leapt at the thought of getting out of this tomb, but at the same time, it constricted at the perspective of leaving behind those I had come to consider as my brothers and sisters.
Paranoia suddenly set in. What if he was secretly kidnapping me with the intent of leaving the Creckels behind? What if these tests he had performed on me earlier were only to verify if I would make a good test subject for some sort of crazy experiment? What if…?
And yet, even as those uncertainties popped up in my head, I knew them to be false. Why would he have fed my friends if I was all he wanted?
To make them drop their guard so that he could take you away willingly.
That almost gave me pause. After all, they had killed him the first time they'd believe him to be a threat. However, he could have gassed us and just plucked me right out. And why would they want to experiment on me anyway? I was just a bag of bones with nothing special in my genetics warranting so much effort from them.
“Janelle?” Reaper said when I failed to answer.