daynight by Megan Thomason Read Free Book Online Page B

It’s not like I’m trying to hit on you, Kira. I don’t even know you. We’ve been assigned partners for training, that’s it. But don’t ask me to pretend like you aren’t beautiful and probably used to having everyone bend over backwards to cater to you—which, by the way, I was not trying to do by making your stupid breakfast.”
    Pompous much? I plaster on a fake smile, get up from the table and without response to his insult, take his plate and mine, and hand wash them in the sink with some Industrial City dish soap. That insult was so uncalled for, but I’m going to ignore it. Once done with the dishes I slip past Blake and try to leave through the door to our suite, which won’t budge, and has no easily apparent way to unlock it. They locked us in. I wonder why? Don’t want the new Recruits exploring? That sucks since exploring seems appropriate for our supposed arrival on alien land.
    “It’s locked,” Blake says. I continue to smile, but in my head roll my eyes and give a sarcastic ‘thanks.’ Couldn’t have figured that out on my own. Still upset by Blake’s inflammatory comments, I retreat to my room to look for my watch, which I swear I was wearing when I went to sleep. Mine has vanished, but an ‘Industrial City’ issue has been placed atop the dresser. I put it on and notice it is 18:59. As the time changes to 1900 hours I hear a click and our escort arrives to release us from captivity.  
    We follow the man—who doesn’t even bother to introduce himself, exchange pleasantries, or respond to questions—through a winding maze of hallways painted different bright neon colors to a door marked UNIT 27 TRAINING CLINIC. We’re ushered inside and greeted by two nurses who separate Blake and I into separate white-walled examination rooms.  
    The nurse asks me a series of questions about any unusual symptoms or issues I might have had since our arrival. Other than feeling ill and parched when I first entered, and the lump on my head I got while trying to leave, I haven’t had much time to experience any issues, as I was drugged and forced to sleep for hours, I tell them. Yes, I was able to get breakfast down. No, I never vomited. Yes, I feel fine now. No breathing issues, no rapid heartbeat, no intestinal distress, no seizures or convulsions, no skin lesions, no dizziness, seeing spots, or fainting. Seriously people, what were you expecting?
    Once they’re done with the invasive interrogation, they check my eyes, ears, nose, heart, lungs, skin, and palpate my abdomen to make sure I’m not lying. Then the parasites drain my blood. I ask why, but they claim it is ‘standard procedure and will occur often,’ like I should know what their standard procedure is. Making sure my high DNT levels are still intact? The nurses then leave us be for a few minutes to confer with the doctor before returning to give both Blake and me shots ‘to help us further acclimate to our surroundings.’ The needle hurts going in and the sting lasts for several minutes after. When the nurse tells me she’ll see me tomorrow I am too upset to speak.
    To reach our training room we head out a set of double doors to a dimly lit outdoor walkway, illuminated by soft up-lights in the path and the occasional wall light. I lean over the walkway railing and it takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once I do adapt to the new lighting my senses overload.
    I am indeed in an unknown place, albeit not enough different from Earth to think I’ve left it. Although it’s late evening the temperature is hotter than any record setting San Diego day, but very arid, desert-like heat. Despite it being dry, sweat immediately beads and starts to drip down my back. It won’t take long outdoors to be drenched in a sticky stench, but I try to ignore the fact my bra strap is uncomfortably soaking up all the mess and focus on what little I can see in the poor lighting.
    The walkway runs along the top edge of a very steep