Gemma sped down the hallway, looking for somewhere to hide, just long enough to enjoy the remnants of this calm spell. She turned a corner, heading for yellow ward and the shelter under her desk, but slammed into a wall of muscle.
“Where are you going?” a deep voice asked. Gemma stumbled back in surprise, realizing she’d collided with the man from the shadows. His blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he’d donned a white coat, but it was the same man.
She tried to dash away, but he grabbed her, dragging her back down the hall. Gemma struggled, pulling against his grip, hard.
“Behave,” he said hoarsely, but she continued to struggle until he tightened his hold enough to be painful. She let out a yelp and he gave her a cruel smile.
“Here’s the one who got away,” he said, shoving her toward Nurse Simmons.
Simmons grunted, then wasted no time shoving a needle into Gemma’s arm.
“No,” Gemma howled, knowing that any clarity she had would vanish in the next couple seconds.
Simmons told another orderly to sit her down right in front of the holo-screen. Then Simmons cranked the volume knob. Gemma’s muscles were liquid, no longer under her control. She sat there, forced to take in the blaring input. The tranquilizer dulled her movements but couldn’t completely dim her mind.
For the next several hours, Gemma sat through the hell of unfettered holo-vision. Sitcoms. News reports. Talk shows.
After a few minutes, tears were leaking from her eyes. After a few hours, she was fully catatonic again, locked inside a mind that would not quit cataloging and cross-referencing.
Gemma couldn’t even remember the calm brought on by a pair of green eyes.
She couldn’t even remember the betrayal.
Reality was once again inaccessible. The only thing she felt was the tears that continued to tumble down her cheeks.
