“Do not say please,” Doc muttered as Ryan left with the sec chief, leaving his friends with a warning glance.
“Dark night, I think you’d better trail them, Jak,” J.B. said to the albino, who seemed to understand immediately.
Mildred, however, wasn’t as clear. “What’s the matter, John?” she asked the Armorer.
“Well, Millie, it’s like this. Alien’s gone to his chambers and been briefed by Harvey damned quick for someone who was overseeing the nuke just a little while back.”
Krysty was checking her blaster, making sure it was fully loaded. Her hair was coiled tightly. “The shit’s already hit,” she said, almost to herself.
DEAN ACHED in every muscle, but he savored every last drop of the pain, because it was the pain that came from freedom.
As soon as Jenna had left the room, he had freed his hand and started to work on the restraint securing his other arm. It had been simple to untie, and he had massaged life back into the dead limb. It tingled and ached, and the bites and scratches began to sting.
But the problem came when Dean tried to sit up and untie his ankles. His abs were strong, and a sit-up of that kind would normally have presented no problem. However, in order to secure him, his legs and arms had been stretched, and the muscles along his ribs and across his stomach had been tensed to an abnormal degree, then held rigid.
For the first two attempts, Dean found he was unable to raise himself, the only answer his musculature could give him being a sharp and repeated attack of cramps, like fire across his stomach and chest.
He sank back, breathing heavily and trying to quell the panic that rose within him. He had no idea how much time he may have, and to be floundering right now was something that filled him with fear.
No. Fighting it back, Dean tried for the third time, rising slowly and supporting himself with his elbows and forearms on the table. Pain shot through his arms, but it was more than compensated for by the decreased pain in his torso. As he freed his ankles and massaged pained life back into them, the sharp pains in his body reduced to a dull throb.
Then he tried to stand. Learning from his previous experience, he took his time, supporting as much weight as possible through his arms as he placed his feet on the floor, feeling the pins and needles in the soles of his feet, and gradually increased the weight his legs bore.
Eventually, he was standing. In pain, but unsupported.
He took only a few seconds to relish this freedom, and to adjust to being mobile again. He could afford no more. He had to move as quickly as possible. His clothes were still in a heap in the corner of the room, where they had been discarded before he was trussed. He dressed as quickly as possible, wincing at the pain of the scratches and bites, the agony of cloth touching skin still sensitive after the severe cramp engendered by his restraint. When he put on his boots, his feet felt as if they were encased in lead that tightened around his ankles, forcing the blood out.
Dean ignored it as best as he could, knowing that he couldn’t afford the indulgence. He had to move as fast as possible.
He tried the door, but knew even as he did that it was pointless. It locked from the outside, and he had heard Jenna secure it. It was still fast.
Dean leaned with his back against the door and surveyed the lab. He knew the layout, and knew that it was used for experiments where fumes could be a problem in an enclosed space. So there had to be an air vent of some sort in the lab. It was no point just hammering on the door. The lab was secluded, and the only people likely to hear were Jenna or Harvey as they approached.
So the air vent was his best bet.
Stiffly, Dean moved around the walls of the room in which he had been kept restrained. It was the best place to start, as it was where the majority of experiments took place. Besides, he didn’t want to face the results of Jenna’s experiments unless he really had to.