Carlie Simmons (Book 4): The Gathering Darkness by JT Sawyer Read Free Book Online Page B

behind them. Mitchell
strode forward and leaned over to inspect the doctor’s handiwork. “How long
before this one is ambulatory and ready for action, Doctor?”
    Holcomb always delighted in hearing his
title echo off the walls of the operating room. He held back a crooked smile,
wondering if Mitchell was just trying to flatter him with a designation he had
been formerly stripped of for killing two patients on one of his drunken
binges. Those days seemed so distant now that he had been put in charge as
chief medical officer of the prison, free to dispense his own brand of
healthcare without a meddling oversight committee.
    Holcomb tossed the suturing implements on
the soiled cart beside his patient and then clumsily removed his latex gloves.
After dropping them on the blood-stained floor, he removed his spectacles and
rubbed his weary eyes.
    “The meds will wear off shortly so we
should get going on the next surgery. I just need ten minutes to stretch and
retrieve a few things from my office.”
    “A swig of vodka does not a steady hand
make,” said Mitchell, folding his arms against the shoulder holsters on either
side of him as his six-foot-four frame towered over the doctor. “You’ve got
five minutes. One of my guards will accompany you to make sure your little
respite doesn’t take a wrong turn. I need you sober to complete the rest of
these implants.”
    Holcomb swallowed hard and looked away. He
knew that his skills were unique amongst the other prison inmates but he also
knew from the mass grave outside of the prison that Mitchell was ruthless in
his quest for power. He could be decidedly cool at times and then the next
minute he would slit the throat of the man beside him because he coughed. The
man was predictable to a point until his sadistic shadow-self wrestled control
away from the otherwise charismatic leader that he presented to the inmates.
    “He’s coming around, Doctor,” muttered the
assistant, who took a step back.
    “It’s not a he…it’s not even an it,” said
Mitchell. “This is an abomination of nature, a cruel design, but thank God for
anomalies.”
    The doctor pushed his rolling stool to the
right. His eyes widened at the sight of the writhing mutant on the table which
was stirring back to its former alertness. Its hissing filled the tight
confines of the room and its smooth yellow skin glowed like the exoskeleton of
a scorpion under a black light.
    Mitchell moved forward and flipped the
diminutive switch on the device imbedded into the cervical region. It produced
a red blip which began flashing. He reached over to the sliding table beside
him and removed a device that resembled a small walkie-talkie, twisting on the
control knob.
    “Is this pre-programmed?” Mitchell snapped
at Holcomb.
    “Yes, the frequency is all set. Just use
the side button to control the shock level emitted by the neck implant.”
    As the creature began thrashing, Mitchell
lightly tapped on the handheld device. These had formerly been used to control
the small group of German Shepherds that the prison guards employed. One of
Mitchell’s electronic technicians had modified the devices by combining the electrical
leads from Tasers into the shock collar software. Holcomb had gone through
nearly forty creatures before perfecting the method and getting the voltage
level just right to constrain the fast-moving mutants.
    Mitchell eagerly worked the control
button, watching in wonder as the crudely embedded electrodes in the neck began
shocking the creature. With each hiss of resistance from the mutant, Mitchell
delivered another shock, watching the figure slump unresponsive for a few
seconds before beginning its futile attempt to free itself. Mitchell paused and
turned the knob on his device to a higher setting.
    “That’s enough voltage,” mumbled Holcomb,
who was pressed against the wall like a bat with his arms spread. “Too much and
it will destroy the central nervous system.”
    Mitchell moved forward