A cold breeze swept into the coffee shop as an old lady pushed the glass doors open. The stale winter air mingled with the sweet fragrance that my hot macchiato gave off and crept up my nostrils, making them flare uncontrollably. I took a sip of the brown liquid, which flooded my mouth with rich flavors within seconds. Successful in containing my excitement, I let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.
It has been years since I have last visited this coffee shop but I still vividly remember the heavenly taste of their macchiato. Something that I loved as much as their coffee was their 'Thursday Surprise', which always comprised of a cup of espresso, a piece of plain toast and a small, slightly overbaked donut. I was sixteen when it came to my attention that the element of surprise in this weekday special really did say a lot about this small town of ours. Despite its mediocrity, my heart was still attached to this place. This, perhaps, was the reason why the confinement was such a big deal to me: I was torn away from my birth town.
"Geez, Nathan Herber, you know you weren't supposed to drink that!"
A muffled voice with a thick Australian accent exclaimed. Nearly choking on my coffee, I looked up and found Tyler behind the door, hollering. I was quick to put away the cup as he came up to me with an agitated look.
"No food or drink. You know the rules."
He was panting when he found himself a seat across the table. I knew I was in trouble, but he did not know that yet. It was his first day at work, which meant I could probably get away with breaking a few rules by laying down one or two meticulously crafted excuses. Flashing him an awkward smile, I handed my coffee over and offered,
"Try it. It's good."
Tyler, who was boiling with rage at the moment, rejected my gesture of kindness by pushing the cup to his side.
"See, I don't want to lose my job because of you. Do you know how hard it is to find a job nowadays?"
Protested Tyler as he gave me a menacing glare.
"You can't blame me for not knowing how messed up the economy is when I only get to come out two hours every month," I shrugged and continued, "and let's just say a tiny cup of coffee won't cost you your job. Alex lets it slide all the time."
Alex has been my bodyguard for two years by now. Suffering from a mild flu, he called in sick today lest he should pass the illness onto anyone else. As a replacement, Tyler was sent in to watch over me on my 'cheat day'. As a senior member of the shelter, Alex had the regulations engraved on his mind. He was excruciatingly strict about my diet for the first couple months but over the course of these two years, he has slowly come to realize that the shelter was being overprotective and sympathized with my situation. His compassion, albeit much appreciated, meant nothing in the face of the rules imposed by the shelter.
At the end of day, I was still prohibited from consuming anything while I was out on the streets. Now that Alex was on leave, I was able to regain control of my life for a day or two without having to worry about accidentally throwing him under the bus.
I could tell Tyler was unconvinced from the way he furrowed his brows. A weak grunt escaped his lips when I interrupted with a suggestion,
"I won't blame you for being worried. How about we just keep this a secret, one that's only between you and me?"
Carefully considering my offer, he leaned back with his arms crossed. His features contorted like a vortex as if the idea I was presenting was shaving bits and pieces off his sanity. The sound of his phone ringing was what released him from his misery. I could barely hear who was talking on the other end but somehow, I was certain that this caller was up to no good. After what seemed like ages, Tyler slipped the phone back into his pocket and slammed his fist against the wooden table,
"Dr. Jensen said there's an emergency and that you need to return to the shelter this instant. I told you this was a bad idea, I told you!"
During the walk back to the shelter, I could hardly breathe as though my lungs had been crushed by a giant boulder. Shivering at the thought of Dr. Jensen running all the possible tests on me, I gagged and grunted like a drunk man at the Oktoberfest. With all the equipment in the laboratory, they could easily tell there was caffeine coursing through my veins. Sometimes I wondered how the advancement of technology was a bliss to the world, but was an absolute hazard for me. Everything just seemed so unfair: how the government treated me, how I was always the lab rat, how I had to live under this curse.
My attempt to sneak back to my room was proven unsuccessful when the guards flagged me down at the hallway. Their helmets might have helped them keep their skull intact, but it did little in muffling their scoffs. It appeared that the entire facility knew I did something that I should not have done and now the karma has come. Tyler must have called the securities when I stowed away at the coffee shop. He thought the department was on his side and would not inform the researchers – he thought wrong, for betrayal is common among these ages.
I was greeted with a spray of antibacterial white fume when I stepped into the laboratory. A piercing tune composed of mechanical cacophonies and rackets could be heard when I advanced further into the place. Upon my entrance, Dr. Jensen turned to face me in his swivel chair, his face dark as the night sky. Meeting his gaze sent a wave of uneasiness through my body as if ants were crawling all over my pale skin. I ran my fingers through the bed of straw resting on my head in hopes of alleviating the itchiness on my scalp.
"This is not good. Not good at all..."
I muttered gingerly under my breath.
"You're correct, Mr. Herber. This isn't looking promising, for yourself and for the world."
Dr. Jensen suggested as he tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair. He was listening carefully to every word I was mumbling, that was how I knew I was in for some deep trouble. I bit back a hiss and backed away from the anger burning in his eyes. Leaning against the wall, I let out a nervous laughter,
"Hah, I thought you said the lab was renovating and wouldn't need me here for a while."
I looked around without moving my head like a toddler frozen in terror. The old furniture in the room was wrapped in white linen cloths and most of the experimental equipment was stored in cardboard boxes that stacked up neatly on the floor.
"I find it interesting how you can recall this place is under renovation, Mr. Herber. I thought you couldn't remember anything, including the rules imposed by the shelter."
Dr. Jensen could barely hold back the fury in his voice. Both his tone and his gaze were as sour as an unripe lemon. Pointing to the stool next to him, he signaled me to take a seat while he continued his lesson.
"You know how important your blood is. The entire world is counting on you. Why can't you just be a tiny bit more responsible?"
The bitterness in his voice took a sharp turn and became motherly with a hint of sweetness within. Caught off-guard by this sudden change of tone, I apologized like a kid who just stole candy from his mother's pocket,
"I'm sorry I let you down, doc. I really liked coffee though and you guys wouldn't let me have it here."
After hearing what I had for the day, Dr. Jensen shook his head in a disapproving manner and sighed regretfully. His eyes returned to the monitor sitting on the desk and let his fingers fly across the keyboard, recording what I have consumed.
"Do you not know caffeine is poison?" Dr. Jensen's frown stood out from his wrinkled complexion, "How could you allow that thing to enter your body?"
Now a needle was stuck in my arm, taking samples from my blood. The crimson liquid trailed along the tube connected to the machine that was responsible for analyzing the plasma. He stared at the screen, frowning at the glaring warning that my blood was tainted with the chemical C8H10N4O2. I was trying to explain myself when the doctor stopped me with a raised hand.
"No more excuses, mister."
He said bluntly as another laboratory staff, Dr. Marx came in through the door.
"Oh right. It's you again, Mr. Troublemaker. I can't believe that's what we get for trying to keep you safe."
Marx's intent stare was shimmering under the light, a bright contrast to his bad mood.
"Hello, Dr. Marx," I replied plainly, "You know, I'm very grateful that you guys saved me from the government, but it's just coffee. I don't understand what the fuss is all about. A cup of coffee's not going to hurt anyone."
He gave me a taut smile, which quickly faded as he started toward me,
"If you think it's not that big of a deal, how about we just send you back to Washington?"
The memory of me being held captive flooded my mind. All of a sudden, the walls around me shook and shifted, turning from white to deep gray. I knew this place like the back of my hand: this was my cell in the government facility. This place has always made me felt like I was behind bars, but only worse. A prison mate might get to experience the joy of having sunlight caress his or her skin every day, but all I ever got to come into contact with was the cold touch of artificial lighting as they took my blood for further research.
We cannot afford the chance of you developing skin cancer, that was what they said.
Every day they sampled my blood, trying to unravel the mystery behind the power of the liquid.
"It's like the fucking panacea! How is this even possible?"
The government scientists exclaimed in exhilaration after they have first examined what they have taken out of my body. Rounds and rounds of studies confirmed that the miracle was actually the results of a mutation.
I have once taken a peek of the researchers' journal and saw this written on the page labeled 'Mechanism and Discovery'.
The subject has undergone a mutation that causes its cells to produce a toxin lethal to all known bacteria and viruses. From what was observed, the toxin is capable of breaking down the cell membrane or the protein coat of the antigen and releasing an enzyme to digest the cell content of said antigen. It is unlikely that running more tests on the subject would reveal the exact mechanism of this immunology reaction, but we could try and replicate the toxin that the subject releases. The discovery of this substance could very possibly save lives that are threatened by viral or bacterial infections.
This short passage has haunted me for the remainder of the days spent in the facility. Knowing that they would not give up studying the secret behind my blood, I was almost certain that I would have to spend the rest of my life being studied. Every time that thought appeared in my mind, I would ram my head against the walls of the cell, hoping it would either make the desperate idea go away or it would kill me and I would be out of this misery. In response to my suicidal actions, cushions were pinned to the walls so I could still bang my head on the wall without bleeding to my death.
The first time I held a shimmer of hope in my heart was when I heard the facility was under the ambush of an organization called 'The Shelter'. Despite the loud gunshots that were echoing throughout the corridors, I was thrilled to bits. Hiding at the corner of my cell, I was imagining myself running through the streets of Irvine, heading back home and throwing myself into my family's arms. It was no more than half an hour before the staff from the shelter found me sitting on the floor, giggling like a maniac.
By the time they got me back on my feet, the raid was almost over. Without a second thought, I pointed out the location of the closest exit and headed out the facility through the back door. My heart was filled with joy as I fled this literal hell that has held me for way too long. The soldier escorted us as we ran across the parking lot hastily. With an excited leap, I got onto the shelter's rescue helicopter. I found it hard to settle down with my emotions on a roller coaster, but eventually I calmed myself down and told them my story. After hearing what I had to say, they promised to take me back to my hometown under the condition that I would not expose myself to the public as much as possible. They explained to me that the government would be watching us constantly and that they would do anything to capture me again. At first, I was rather reluctant to agree to their terms, but thinking of how I could possibly return to my family, I saw no better choice than saying yes.
And so, I joined the shelter.
Snapped back into reality by a stern warning, I heard Jensen and Marz restated for the millionth time that I was not supposed to consume any food products while I was away from the structure. Considering how they would probably put cuffs on me if l told them the truth that there would be a day when they would have to repeat that statement for the million and first time, I nodded dubiously and steered away from the black clouds on their head.
When I exited the laboratory, the same horrible, machine-composed symphony bade me farewell. Accompanied by two guards, I stalked back to my room and stayed in bed for the next few hours. Taking blood samples was exhausting, especially when you are the one being stung by the needle. After being examined for so many times, I would expect myself to get used to the pain, but I never did. Even just back then, the pain was still as fresh as the first time I made acquaintance with the sharp, silvery spike.
It was 7 PM when I woke up to a weird sense of stiffness in my neck. Dr. Marx had talked to me about my improper sleeping position, but I never paid any attention to him. As I craned my neck, the ache at the back of head intensified, which made me flinch a little. I remembered how my mother would massage my shoulders whenever this happened and started rubbing the aching spot with my wrist. I could not tell whether it was the idea of home or the massage that made my neck feel better, but it did the job anyway.
I had been through a lot of 'cheat days', but I never got the chance to go back home. The shelter said my parents had moved and they could not trace the location of their new home. I figured they could not manage the sudden disappearance of their son and so they decided to leave this place resided by nothing but empty memories. Staring into the picture of my family that was hung on the wall right in front of my bed, I reminded myself that I must stay hopeful and perhaps one day, I would get to see them again. I missed my mother's vegetable stew, which was made with broccoli, carrots and potatoes. To be very honest, it was not that exciting of a dish, but it was better than anything I could ask for in the shelter. I had a piece of cornbread and went back to sleep soon after.
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