Spectacle--A Novel by Rachel Vincent

Author:Rachel Vincent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2017-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Part Two

Menagerie

Delilah

I woke up with sunlight shining in my eyes from a window high on the wall, and I knew immediately that something was wrong. Gallagher was gone, and though I’d fallen asleep in his shirt, I’d awoken fully dressed in gray uniform scrubs that fit.

Stranger still, I was alone in a concrete room, smaller in scale than the bipedal beast cells, yet more spacious than the holding cell where I’d waited to be processed and issued a collar.

At that thought, my hand flew to my throat. The collar was still there. It was the only thing I’d gone to sleep with that remained with me in the morning. What the hell?

When I stood, my feet sank deeper than they should have into the padding beneath me. I looked down to see that the sleeping mat I’d woken up on was actually a stack of three. A pillow in a clean white case lay on the floor next to the mat, as if I’d lost it in my sleep.

An eerie unease slithered up my spine.

Why was I given a pillow? Why was I in a private cell? Why couldn’t I remember any of that happening?

And why was I so tired after a full night’s sleep?

The food. Obviously I’d been drugged. Probably sedated. But why? What could possibly be accomplished through drugging me that couldn’t be accomplished with the collar? Or by threatening someone I cared about?

Had Gallagher been drugged too? I closed my eyes and thought back to the night before. I’d eaten some of his food, but he hadn’t taken any of mine. Were the drugs in his food? Were they to prevent him from fighting my removal from his cell?

I opened my eyes and spun to study the rest of the room, but my vision seemed to move slower than my body. The room spun around me with a strange sluggishness, and my stomach lurched. I sank onto my knees and took several long, steady breaths while I waited for the feeling to pass.

I’d definitely been drugged.

When I was sure I could stand without vomiting, I opened my eyes again and slowly pushed myself to my feet. The back corner of my cell held a prison-style stainless-steel toilet/sink combination. A toothbrush with a plastic bristle cover and a tube of toothpaste sat on the edge of the small sink, along with an inverted plastic cup.

I grabbed the toothbrush and opened its cover. The bristles were dry and in good shape, but obviously used. The toothpaste tube was half-empty and rolled up from the end, just the way I’d taught Gallagher when he and I had shared a camper back at the menagerie.

I set the toothbrush down and picked up the pillow. It smelled like an unfamiliar shampoo. The scent triggered another wave of nausea.

What had they drugged me with? How long before it wore off?

What the hell was going on?

Light footsteps echoed from the hall. I crossed the cell to peer out the window in my door, through which I saw a narrow, unfamiliar hallway.

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