Duality (The Hitchhiker Strain) by Kellie Sheridan Read Free Book Online Page A

more panicked, but al l I want to do is close my eyes again and go back to sleep. At least I can stop myself from doing that much. Whatever is happening to me, I don’t want to miss a single beat.
    I manage to swing my weight enough to knock my feet into the chest of the bearded man holding my feet, but he doesn’t even react. Instead, I’m unceremoniously dumped onto a gurney. I try and use the moment to wiggle free, but they grab hold of me easily; I’m far too slow now.
    Someone else is strapping me down. Thick leather straps are t ightened across my ankles, my hips, and then my chest. I push harder to break free, but I know it’s pointless. Still, we won’t surrender. I won’t give in to sleep. To death. The beast knows as well as I do that we don’t have much time left. The one thing we can agree on is that we aren’t ready. Even those of us hungry for destruction have an overriding urge to live.
    I ’m only sixteen.
    I wince when they peel my sleeve up off my arm. I lost my makeshift bandage somewhere along the way, and now my injury sits e xposed for everyone to see. Talking to each other in hushed voices, the men leave. The sound of a metal door clanging shut and locking echoes through me.
    I turn to watch the door but instead see a small crowd of people watching me. There ’s no privacy here. I’m in a cell, surrounded by heavy black bars, each about six inches apart. Being watched.
    Three voices talk over each other from outside my cage. All male, all excited.
    What kind of sick place is this?
    Why have you brought me here? I demand, but of course nothing comes out. My heart starts to thump dramatically against my chest. Is this fear or am I finally dying?
    I won ’t give them the satisfaction of seeing the terror in my eyes or the way sweat has started dripping down my face. I turn away but try to still focus on what’s being said. I’d take any clue at all about what is in store for me, but my head is swimming so much that I can’t pick out more than a few words at once.
    Ultimately they shuffle away, leaving me with at least the illusion of privacy, bu t they don’t go far. Somewhere down the hall, another cell is opened.
    My mind begins to wander, and I let myself get swept away in the haze. The peace only lasts a minute before I’m ripped back to my reality by a blood-curdling scream.
    Someone cl ose by is being tormented by these people. The noise he’s making barely sounds human, and it won’t stop. He screams and screams and I can’t so much as cover my ears. I’m forced to listen to him endure who knows what. Medieval torture to atone for the lives he’s taken? Being fed to first-gens who will feed on us as readily as humans? Whatever it is, it lasts forever. Or maybe only minutes. His voice gives out before his torture does, and I can hear his breathing coming in distressed gasps.
    It ’ll be me next. It has to be. My reward for everything I’ve done. Everyone I’ve killed. These people have brought me here to make me pay.
    It isn ’t long before they come for me. Three scientists, gleaming like shiny new pennies in their sterile uniforms, their faces hidden under surgical masks and their eyes cold as steel. I want to scream and claw and bite. I can’t. All I have left in me is to focus on the quiet tears rolling down my cheeks.
    I can smell the woman who approaches me before I see her —ginger and smoke. She steps into my field of vision and proceeds to check my straps. She’s wearing a lab coat on top of her scrubs, as though that will make what she’s about to do to me more humane. Are these people doctors? I’m not sure if that should make me more or less afraid. There’s no time to figure it out because the leather strap around my hips is tightened a notch farther, squeezing me until I’m completely immobile. Can’t they tell I’m already dying? Do they really think I’ll be able to escape from this now?
    The woman rea ches into her jacket and pulls out a syringe.