The Things We Bury - Part 1: In Anticipation of the End of the World [Completed]

Chapter 4: Me and My Bad Luck (Part 3 of 6)

By three in the afternoon, the bunker had a lonesome, dead of night feeling.  Project LARS was on alert for another transformation, and the day shift was stretched thin.

The girl lay on her bed in a fresh uniform of a white t-shirt and blue jeans.  Her head was buried in her pillow, but her body was rigid and had none of the telltale peacefulness of sleep.

She looked completely different from the scrawny, pale creature that was carried out of the enclosure just after dawn.  Unconsciousness had slackened her features.  Her mouth drooped open with a thin line of drool spinning its way to the floor.  Her hair hung limply from her unsupported head.  Soaked through with sweat, the blonde tresses were tangled and stringy.  Her naked skin was covered in a slime of perspiration and grime that accentuated its pallor.   

Someone had washed her off and brushed out her hair.  They'd cleaned the slurry of sweat and dust shaken free from invisible cracks and crevices by that powerful beast.  Removed the minute shards of plastic and shavings of steel embedded in her flesh.

In a subconscious response to her recent nudity, not an inch of exposed skin was visible.  Her arms were curled up underneath her, and her hair completely covered the side of her face and neck.

Jamie whispered into the microphone, "Amy, are you okay?"

The curtain in front of him was closed, and he watched the monitor that was set down below the window.  It was angled upward to give the occupant of the big leather wingback chair a view of the bedroom.

"Horus wanted to be here for you today, but he's sick.  My name is Jamie.  Would you like to talk?"

Jamie sat there with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.  Guilt gnawed at his bones and chewed its way through his thoughts.  His presence in the OC had made him complicit in the evil of the place.  He had been there and observed with the rest of them.  He got to watch the monster take her over and leave her spent on the floor when it was done.  And for the people in that room, it wasn't a great and horrible thing that had happened to an innocent girl.  It had been a fascinating and intriguing thing that had happened to a horrible thing.

Perhaps this was why he volunteered to take the day shift – to work off some of his sins.  But there were other more selfish reasons mingled into the decision.  He knew he would never sleep if he went home.  And by staying for the day, he could avoid being there at night.  He would not have to bear witness again and stain his soul with another layer of filth.

He waited to hear a response from her, while at the same time he kept one ear trained on the door to the OC.  So far it was still quiet and empty in there.

That was where he was supposed to be.  He shouldn't be in the office.  He wasn't allowed to make contact with her.  The consequences of getting caught were unknown, but he knew he didn't want to fall victim to them.  He risked it anyway.

The moments slipped by in silence.  Amy only seemed to force her head deeper into the pillow.

"I have a sister about your age.  Her name is Nadia.  I haven't seen Nadia in a very long time."  He spoke softly.  In the small space, he sounded like he was giving a confession.  He remembered a time not long ago when he would lie in bed late at night and whisper his secrets, as Glen slowly fell to sleep next to him.

Glen had once told him that he loved being lulled by Jamie's rich, honeyed voice.  It was all the encouragement he had needed to make it a ritual on hard to sleep nights.

"She lives far away.  And I haven't been able to go home for a long time.  But we write letters to each other.  Long letters where we talk about our lives and our dreams."