Post by rhage on May 16, 2010 23:33:36 GMT -5
There was a burning pain coursing through her lean muscled body, accompanied by that sweet and sickening lethargy that stayed with a body as they came down from a drugged stupor. Inky black lashes fanned bronzed skin for a moment before the room came into focus. Pristine white, clear and focused lines greeted her vision and for a nano-second, Rhage thought she was back in her bedroom. But the black accents were missing. In their place sterling silver gleamed. In her peripheral vision she saw silver and leather. God, the pain.
Silver glittered prettily from the brilliant light that the overhead surgical lights threw. The silver bindings held her body flat against the table, crossing her torso, her wrists, her ankles… And then there was the leather. A leather collar held her neck tightly to the table, just as surely as the silver bands. Leather crossed her biceps, holding her arms secure, and leather also bound her thighs. As she took stock of her body, she was grateful that the bastards had left her room to breathe. Because they certainly hadn’t left her any room to move. With her mind in a thousand different directions, she focused on the leather. Had they known? Or was this just her lucky day? No… they had to know. Or there would be more silver holding her down. Geez it was cold. Mind tricks? White, silver, cold… all the psychological implementations had her dizzy.
*~*~*~*~*
What day was it? Serenity. Oh God… they’d been ambushed. Of all the stupid, foolish things she’d ever done in her life… A painful breath left her as Rhage lay there, on that shimmering silver table and prayed that her twin was okay.
*~*~*~*~*
Had she fallen asleep? What woke her… There it was again, those shuffling sounds… The movement of her head was severely restricted by the leather collar, and it was difficult to breath around all the swelling and pain that the leather induced. There was a whirring… metal sliding against a moving object, sparks snapping violently in the background. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms and had her wincing when she felt the slight tension there. An IV? They were still drugging her… That explained the time lapses, and confusion. She took a shuttered breath.
Soft, manic laughter floated over to her and a very clinical, amused voice spoke, “Rhage Marie Terasaur, Subject 03817,” the voice went on to outline the date and finite details, “Today’s procedure begins with preliminary testing…” A sharp ‘click’ was heard, as though Doctor Night had turned off the recorder. It was a prop mostly, because in the upper corner of the room there was a digital camera feed, recording image and sound and documenting each breath she took.
She strained to turn her head to face the imageless voice, and was surprised when the sturdy, average looking doctor came into view. Rhage didn’t have to dwell long on the doctor though. “ A tissue sample. Blood work.” He spoke as if someone else were in the room to assist him. Growling softly, her beast paced just below the surface, fury sparkling in her eyes as she watched the doctor move into and out of her field of vision. He carried a tray, higher than her head, so she was unable to see it. “Temper, temper, kitty,” he chuckled in soft reprimand as he placed the tray on a stand beside the exam table she was bound to. Foregoing the recorder, he spoke into the room and reached to the tray, pulling a gleaming silver scalpel from his pile of goodies, “Tissue sample A, to be extracted from the underside of the breast.”
Glacier blue eyes danced with defiance as her beast’s energy taunted and teased the doctor just as he began the first incision. He flinched, as if ants were crawling up his sleeve, and the scalpel slid deeply into the soft tissue of her breast. He glared at her, and Rhage, so wrapped up in her pain and watching his eyes, didn’t see his other hand snaking out to strike her with a vicious blow to the face that had the lioness seeing stars and unable to breathe properly.
*~*~*~*~*
She must have lost consciousness, because the next thing Rhage knew, Dr Night was standing over her again with a menacing scowl and icy eyes that promised retribution. They’d cut her clothes off, and she shivered. Seconds later she felt the stinging pain of another needle digging in her arm and heard yet another IV bag being hung, “A test,” he spoke gleefully, a warped smile plastered across his face as the transfusion began. She began to panic as she looked up at the blood flowing merrily down the tubing and into her, “You’ll need it, kitty-cat,” Dr Night assured her only moments before the scalpel slid cleanly into her flesh. Rhage struggled against the silver and leather bindings, causing more angry red welts to rise and blister along her bruised flesh. “How many nicks does it take to get to the center of a kitty?” the manic doctor asked, and then burst into insane laughter.
His assistant was there. Where from, she had no idea. The duo began to systematically dissect her, lifting an organ here, studying one there… Each time her beast began to rise, the drug dosage was altered. Each time she began to pass out from the agonizing pain, the drug dosage was altered. Had she been able to focus on anything at all, Rhage would have realized that they didn’t touch her womb. Even sociopaths had limits it would seem, and the good doctor didn’t want anything to alter the growing fetus in either twin. “You know, Rhage,” the doctor spoke, as if they were old friends, “it would be simpler on you if you screamed,” he smirked, his bloodied, clove covered hands lifted and he shrugged, “it must be difficult maintaining that silence.” In truth, the fact that she didn’t scream only intrigued him and had him wondering what he would have to do to make her scream. How far could he go? “Hang another bag up, Bud,” Dr Night instructed, “I hope you made certain that wasn’t lion blood also,” he chuckled. Bud E’s response was a similar and twisted laugh, “Of course, Dr N,” he winked, making sure Rhage could see his chipper expression, “definitely not lion.” The asinine assistant lifted the second bag of blood to the light and pretended to study it in depth, “Nope, this here says leopard, I double checked,” he nodded again, a sharp movement, and hung the bag up, changing the line when the first bag emptied.
*~*~*~*~*
Either the pair grew tired of her seething silence, or they finished, because it seemed only minutes later when Rhage fell into blissful oblivion. Her dreams, if one could call drug induced mania that, were filled with sparkling silver and images of her, her twin, and Jared being ambushed. At one point, she would have sworn she felt the soothing brush of her twin. She vividly recalled the conversation about leopard blood. And then she felt her twin’s scream. Her body spasmed violently against the silver and leather that held her down, the silver cutting into her and the leather sliding across her flesh even more as consciousness slammed back into her. With their bond so strong, Rhage felt everything her twin did for a brief time, until the link between them collapsed. The lioness spent several minutes concentrating on returning her breathing to normal and maintaining it. As the link between her and her twin severed, Rhage felt a portion of her soul shred. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully, when in actuality, her beast was stalking through the clinic. The lioness studied the layout, the halls and doors she came across as she searched for her twin. When the beast found Serenity, Rhage willed its comforting, soothing energy to embrace her twin. (([19:11] Wood Bourne Dice Roller: Rhage Terasaur rolled 11 on a 15 sided die.))
*~*~*~*~*
Minutes, hours, or days later, her stomach woke her with its rumbling demand for nourishment. She wouldn’t dream of calling out for anything though. Who knew what these bastards would bring her, or what would be in it. Blinking the chilling room into focus, she looked around as much as she could. There was a third bag of fluids hanging… what the hell were they giving her now? She strained to read any labels… but there were none. Her years of pharmaceutical experience told her just by looking at the liquid in the bags that one had to be a general saline solution with a drug in it. That was how they kept her conscious or unconscious, pending their moods. Another was very obviously blood. Why were they still giving her blood? The third bag took her some time. Eventually she realized it was a nutritional substitute, only at the moment of realization did she feel the feeding tube they’d placed. “She’s awake, Doctor,” a sickeningly familiar voice spoke. Bud E moved into her range of vision and Rhage hissed at him, her beast lashing out at him much like the lioness had the doctor days before. (([10:32] Wood Bourne Dice Roller: Rhage Terasaur rolled 11 on a 15 sided die.)) Bud E squirmed in his seat and glared at her, dropping whatever tool he held, the metal clanging loudly in the background of his stare, “I outta have your hide for tryin to play with the metaphysical shit, bitch!” he seethed at her.
Doctor Night had watched the little scene with avid and intense study. “Why don’t you then, Bud?” The doctor’s voice crawled over Rhage’s skin with those words, “Think of it as… an up close study of the subcutaneous tissue in her.” His words were clinical and void of any emotion as he studied the file Bud E kept studiously documenting every movement. Rhage could feel the wide smile that was in Dr Night’s words though, and she growled at him, letting him feel her beast and then smiling herself when he grew silent. “Enough,” he said abruptly, upping the dosage of the drug that kept her compliant and conscious, “Get on with it Bud, and take your time. Don't use the silver.” With that, Dr Night turned and walked off in a flurry of snow white lab coat and dark navy scrubs.
Rhage closed her eyes in an attempt to block the doctor and his assistant out… in an attempt to distance herself from what she knew was about to come. She knew just how deep the subcutaneous tissue was… It was the layer of fat and connective tissue that houses larger blood vessels and nerves. Think, Rhage, she instructed… going back to her days in college. Epidermis, first layer; Dermis, second layer… nerves and minor blood vessels. Then the subcutaneous tissue… What was the purpose of the subcutaneous tissue? Temperature regulation. Great. She’d freeze to death if they kept her in this fridgerator of a room after Bud’s play session.
She hissed, and her vision grayed as the scalpel slid beneath her skin below the collar at her neck. Retreating into the mind of her beast, an effort to maintain her sanity, she sent the lioness out to search for Ser. Rhage needed to feel her twin. Bud E hummed as he pulled strip after long strip of flesh away from her, pausing every now and then to wipe blood from his hands and document before continuing. Between the nauseating, blinding pain that Bud E’s ever-moving scalpel brought on and the hysteria building in her thoughts when she was unable to locate her twin… Rhage didn’t realize that there was another feline slinking through the building, aiding in the search for Serenity or Jared. And she certainly wouldn’t have recognized the flash of soft white fur covered in silver and ebony rosettes as another extension of herself. No… she wasn’t aware of the snowy white leopard just yet. Panic and hysteria began to well in her mind when she felt nothing from either her twin or Jared… along with a bone-deep sorrow and terror-stricken dread as she considered the very real possibility that they were gone…
*~*~*~*~*
Rhage dreamed. She dreamed of a world where she was alone, her twin lost to the satanists that held them captive. She dreamed of being back in their Father’s twisted world, where the wives of Stepford only thought they had it bad. She dreamed, and dreamed until she floated on a sea of icy crimson. Blood. The scent of blood, coppery and strong, filled the glacier cold room. She couldn’t get warm, and she couldn’t seem to find the energy to open her eyes. The examination table was slick and cold under her. She heard voices, but they appeared muffled and distant.
*~*~*~*~*
Doctor Night stood at the door of the room, “Did you document all your findings?” Bud E looked up from the chart he was writing in, “I did, Doc. I’ll have it all ready for you within the hour.” The assistant looked around the room, chuckling, “Cleanin crew’s gonna have a hell of a time tonight,” he laughed. Blood covered his scrubs from chest to toes. “Epidermis is the specimens hanging on the left, Dermis is on the right,” he said, his voice transitioning from manic to all scientific now, “Subcutaneous as you see is still bleeding proficiently and profusely. I was able to see enough for documentation though.” With a nod, Doctor Night left Bud E to finish up. There were seven bags of blood in the refrigerator on the far counter, and more being prepared for the next day. Bud E, after calculations, decided the bitch would be fine with that amount. Weak, of course, but she would survive. Hmm… his beady eyes turned to the exam table again, and the blood dripping constantly from it and into the drain built into the floor. He would need the cleaners twice a day in this room for the next few days…
*~*~*~*~*
Two nights later the cleaners were in Subject 03817’s room again. “Damn fuckin shame what they done to her,” the younger male nodded to his older helper and gestured to the examination table where Rhage was still strapped down. The cleaning company was used because they were a small local family, and Doctor Night only saw them as misplaced country hicks. He’d never imagine that they were capable of conceiving and carrying out their next actions. “Dan,” the older one said as he gathered the trash in their separate white and red bags, “how hard you think it’d be to…” He never had to finish the sentence, because Dan turned, “Risky… but possible.”
An hour later, well into the evening, Dan and Kyle had Rhage’s still very unconscious body tucked in a red bio-hazard trash bag, cuddled nicely among the other bags of trash that they would carry out shortly. “Man’s gonna kill us for this,” Kyle murmured, chocolate eyes wide with fear and a sort of adrenaline rushed anticipation. “She’s still alive,” Dan shrugged, “if we leave her here she won’t be much longer.”
The pair cleaned up the room, returning it to its original pristine aseptic spotlessness. In an afterthought, Kyle turned to the fridge, “Won’t hurt to… throw this blood out with her…” he grinned and tossed the new four bags of blood into the huge bin of trash bags. He looked around to see if there were any other bags similar to the other two that had been hanging on the IV pole beside the examination table… but didn’t see any. Oh well. “Let’s get outta here, Dan,” he nodded and they finished up their route for the night… adding one extra stop before they high tailed it out of town.
*~*~*~*~*
Dan drove while Kyle nervously watched the rear-view mirror to make sure no one had noticed anything off with them. They dumped the trash, after carefully going through it and picking out the one that was Rhage, and separating her from the actual garbage. The cleaners had enough foresight to snag her file, and it sat beside the red bio-bag in the back of the van as they drove into Wood Bourne. “Don’t wanna get into no trouble, Kyle,” Dan said, shaking his head as Kyle listed off places they could drop her. “We gotta get the women and haul ass out of town before the Doc finds out about this. We don’t need the Doc and this chit’s family after us too.”
They knew that they needed to drop the woman somewhere where she would be found. “Dan, the bar,” Kyle pointed. “Oh fuck no! Are you stupid?” he shouted. The pair argued for a time as they drove around downtown Wood Bourne. Finally, they agreed. They would dump her in front of the bar… but they weren’t stopping the van…
Silver glittered prettily from the brilliant light that the overhead surgical lights threw. The silver bindings held her body flat against the table, crossing her torso, her wrists, her ankles… And then there was the leather. A leather collar held her neck tightly to the table, just as surely as the silver bands. Leather crossed her biceps, holding her arms secure, and leather also bound her thighs. As she took stock of her body, she was grateful that the bastards had left her room to breathe. Because they certainly hadn’t left her any room to move. With her mind in a thousand different directions, she focused on the leather. Had they known? Or was this just her lucky day? No… they had to know. Or there would be more silver holding her down. Geez it was cold. Mind tricks? White, silver, cold… all the psychological implementations had her dizzy.
*~*~*~*~*
What day was it? Serenity. Oh God… they’d been ambushed. Of all the stupid, foolish things she’d ever done in her life… A painful breath left her as Rhage lay there, on that shimmering silver table and prayed that her twin was okay.
*~*~*~*~*
Had she fallen asleep? What woke her… There it was again, those shuffling sounds… The movement of her head was severely restricted by the leather collar, and it was difficult to breath around all the swelling and pain that the leather induced. There was a whirring… metal sliding against a moving object, sparks snapping violently in the background. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms and had her wincing when she felt the slight tension there. An IV? They were still drugging her… That explained the time lapses, and confusion. She took a shuttered breath.
Soft, manic laughter floated over to her and a very clinical, amused voice spoke, “Rhage Marie Terasaur, Subject 03817,” the voice went on to outline the date and finite details, “Today’s procedure begins with preliminary testing…” A sharp ‘click’ was heard, as though Doctor Night had turned off the recorder. It was a prop mostly, because in the upper corner of the room there was a digital camera feed, recording image and sound and documenting each breath she took.
She strained to turn her head to face the imageless voice, and was surprised when the sturdy, average looking doctor came into view. Rhage didn’t have to dwell long on the doctor though. “ A tissue sample. Blood work.” He spoke as if someone else were in the room to assist him. Growling softly, her beast paced just below the surface, fury sparkling in her eyes as she watched the doctor move into and out of her field of vision. He carried a tray, higher than her head, so she was unable to see it. “Temper, temper, kitty,” he chuckled in soft reprimand as he placed the tray on a stand beside the exam table she was bound to. Foregoing the recorder, he spoke into the room and reached to the tray, pulling a gleaming silver scalpel from his pile of goodies, “Tissue sample A, to be extracted from the underside of the breast.”
Glacier blue eyes danced with defiance as her beast’s energy taunted and teased the doctor just as he began the first incision. He flinched, as if ants were crawling up his sleeve, and the scalpel slid deeply into the soft tissue of her breast. He glared at her, and Rhage, so wrapped up in her pain and watching his eyes, didn’t see his other hand snaking out to strike her with a vicious blow to the face that had the lioness seeing stars and unable to breathe properly.
*~*~*~*~*
She must have lost consciousness, because the next thing Rhage knew, Dr Night was standing over her again with a menacing scowl and icy eyes that promised retribution. They’d cut her clothes off, and she shivered. Seconds later she felt the stinging pain of another needle digging in her arm and heard yet another IV bag being hung, “A test,” he spoke gleefully, a warped smile plastered across his face as the transfusion began. She began to panic as she looked up at the blood flowing merrily down the tubing and into her, “You’ll need it, kitty-cat,” Dr Night assured her only moments before the scalpel slid cleanly into her flesh. Rhage struggled against the silver and leather bindings, causing more angry red welts to rise and blister along her bruised flesh. “How many nicks does it take to get to the center of a kitty?” the manic doctor asked, and then burst into insane laughter.
His assistant was there. Where from, she had no idea. The duo began to systematically dissect her, lifting an organ here, studying one there… Each time her beast began to rise, the drug dosage was altered. Each time she began to pass out from the agonizing pain, the drug dosage was altered. Had she been able to focus on anything at all, Rhage would have realized that they didn’t touch her womb. Even sociopaths had limits it would seem, and the good doctor didn’t want anything to alter the growing fetus in either twin. “You know, Rhage,” the doctor spoke, as if they were old friends, “it would be simpler on you if you screamed,” he smirked, his bloodied, clove covered hands lifted and he shrugged, “it must be difficult maintaining that silence.” In truth, the fact that she didn’t scream only intrigued him and had him wondering what he would have to do to make her scream. How far could he go? “Hang another bag up, Bud,” Dr Night instructed, “I hope you made certain that wasn’t lion blood also,” he chuckled. Bud E’s response was a similar and twisted laugh, “Of course, Dr N,” he winked, making sure Rhage could see his chipper expression, “definitely not lion.” The asinine assistant lifted the second bag of blood to the light and pretended to study it in depth, “Nope, this here says leopard, I double checked,” he nodded again, a sharp movement, and hung the bag up, changing the line when the first bag emptied.
*~*~*~*~*
Either the pair grew tired of her seething silence, or they finished, because it seemed only minutes later when Rhage fell into blissful oblivion. Her dreams, if one could call drug induced mania that, were filled with sparkling silver and images of her, her twin, and Jared being ambushed. At one point, she would have sworn she felt the soothing brush of her twin. She vividly recalled the conversation about leopard blood. And then she felt her twin’s scream. Her body spasmed violently against the silver and leather that held her down, the silver cutting into her and the leather sliding across her flesh even more as consciousness slammed back into her. With their bond so strong, Rhage felt everything her twin did for a brief time, until the link between them collapsed. The lioness spent several minutes concentrating on returning her breathing to normal and maintaining it. As the link between her and her twin severed, Rhage felt a portion of her soul shred. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully, when in actuality, her beast was stalking through the clinic. The lioness studied the layout, the halls and doors she came across as she searched for her twin. When the beast found Serenity, Rhage willed its comforting, soothing energy to embrace her twin. (([19:11] Wood Bourne Dice Roller: Rhage Terasaur rolled 11 on a 15 sided die.))
*~*~*~*~*
Minutes, hours, or days later, her stomach woke her with its rumbling demand for nourishment. She wouldn’t dream of calling out for anything though. Who knew what these bastards would bring her, or what would be in it. Blinking the chilling room into focus, she looked around as much as she could. There was a third bag of fluids hanging… what the hell were they giving her now? She strained to read any labels… but there were none. Her years of pharmaceutical experience told her just by looking at the liquid in the bags that one had to be a general saline solution with a drug in it. That was how they kept her conscious or unconscious, pending their moods. Another was very obviously blood. Why were they still giving her blood? The third bag took her some time. Eventually she realized it was a nutritional substitute, only at the moment of realization did she feel the feeding tube they’d placed. “She’s awake, Doctor,” a sickeningly familiar voice spoke. Bud E moved into her range of vision and Rhage hissed at him, her beast lashing out at him much like the lioness had the doctor days before. (([10:32] Wood Bourne Dice Roller: Rhage Terasaur rolled 11 on a 15 sided die.)) Bud E squirmed in his seat and glared at her, dropping whatever tool he held, the metal clanging loudly in the background of his stare, “I outta have your hide for tryin to play with the metaphysical shit, bitch!” he seethed at her.
Doctor Night had watched the little scene with avid and intense study. “Why don’t you then, Bud?” The doctor’s voice crawled over Rhage’s skin with those words, “Think of it as… an up close study of the subcutaneous tissue in her.” His words were clinical and void of any emotion as he studied the file Bud E kept studiously documenting every movement. Rhage could feel the wide smile that was in Dr Night’s words though, and she growled at him, letting him feel her beast and then smiling herself when he grew silent. “Enough,” he said abruptly, upping the dosage of the drug that kept her compliant and conscious, “Get on with it Bud, and take your time. Don't use the silver.” With that, Dr Night turned and walked off in a flurry of snow white lab coat and dark navy scrubs.
Rhage closed her eyes in an attempt to block the doctor and his assistant out… in an attempt to distance herself from what she knew was about to come. She knew just how deep the subcutaneous tissue was… It was the layer of fat and connective tissue that houses larger blood vessels and nerves. Think, Rhage, she instructed… going back to her days in college. Epidermis, first layer; Dermis, second layer… nerves and minor blood vessels. Then the subcutaneous tissue… What was the purpose of the subcutaneous tissue? Temperature regulation. Great. She’d freeze to death if they kept her in this fridgerator of a room after Bud’s play session.
She hissed, and her vision grayed as the scalpel slid beneath her skin below the collar at her neck. Retreating into the mind of her beast, an effort to maintain her sanity, she sent the lioness out to search for Ser. Rhage needed to feel her twin. Bud E hummed as he pulled strip after long strip of flesh away from her, pausing every now and then to wipe blood from his hands and document before continuing. Between the nauseating, blinding pain that Bud E’s ever-moving scalpel brought on and the hysteria building in her thoughts when she was unable to locate her twin… Rhage didn’t realize that there was another feline slinking through the building, aiding in the search for Serenity or Jared. And she certainly wouldn’t have recognized the flash of soft white fur covered in silver and ebony rosettes as another extension of herself. No… she wasn’t aware of the snowy white leopard just yet. Panic and hysteria began to well in her mind when she felt nothing from either her twin or Jared… along with a bone-deep sorrow and terror-stricken dread as she considered the very real possibility that they were gone…
*~*~*~*~*
Rhage dreamed. She dreamed of a world where she was alone, her twin lost to the satanists that held them captive. She dreamed of being back in their Father’s twisted world, where the wives of Stepford only thought they had it bad. She dreamed, and dreamed until she floated on a sea of icy crimson. Blood. The scent of blood, coppery and strong, filled the glacier cold room. She couldn’t get warm, and she couldn’t seem to find the energy to open her eyes. The examination table was slick and cold under her. She heard voices, but they appeared muffled and distant.
*~*~*~*~*
Doctor Night stood at the door of the room, “Did you document all your findings?” Bud E looked up from the chart he was writing in, “I did, Doc. I’ll have it all ready for you within the hour.” The assistant looked around the room, chuckling, “Cleanin crew’s gonna have a hell of a time tonight,” he laughed. Blood covered his scrubs from chest to toes. “Epidermis is the specimens hanging on the left, Dermis is on the right,” he said, his voice transitioning from manic to all scientific now, “Subcutaneous as you see is still bleeding proficiently and profusely. I was able to see enough for documentation though.” With a nod, Doctor Night left Bud E to finish up. There were seven bags of blood in the refrigerator on the far counter, and more being prepared for the next day. Bud E, after calculations, decided the bitch would be fine with that amount. Weak, of course, but she would survive. Hmm… his beady eyes turned to the exam table again, and the blood dripping constantly from it and into the drain built into the floor. He would need the cleaners twice a day in this room for the next few days…
*~*~*~*~*
Two nights later the cleaners were in Subject 03817’s room again. “Damn fuckin shame what they done to her,” the younger male nodded to his older helper and gestured to the examination table where Rhage was still strapped down. The cleaning company was used because they were a small local family, and Doctor Night only saw them as misplaced country hicks. He’d never imagine that they were capable of conceiving and carrying out their next actions. “Dan,” the older one said as he gathered the trash in their separate white and red bags, “how hard you think it’d be to…” He never had to finish the sentence, because Dan turned, “Risky… but possible.”
An hour later, well into the evening, Dan and Kyle had Rhage’s still very unconscious body tucked in a red bio-hazard trash bag, cuddled nicely among the other bags of trash that they would carry out shortly. “Man’s gonna kill us for this,” Kyle murmured, chocolate eyes wide with fear and a sort of adrenaline rushed anticipation. “She’s still alive,” Dan shrugged, “if we leave her here she won’t be much longer.”
The pair cleaned up the room, returning it to its original pristine aseptic spotlessness. In an afterthought, Kyle turned to the fridge, “Won’t hurt to… throw this blood out with her…” he grinned and tossed the new four bags of blood into the huge bin of trash bags. He looked around to see if there were any other bags similar to the other two that had been hanging on the IV pole beside the examination table… but didn’t see any. Oh well. “Let’s get outta here, Dan,” he nodded and they finished up their route for the night… adding one extra stop before they high tailed it out of town.
*~*~*~*~*
Dan drove while Kyle nervously watched the rear-view mirror to make sure no one had noticed anything off with them. They dumped the trash, after carefully going through it and picking out the one that was Rhage, and separating her from the actual garbage. The cleaners had enough foresight to snag her file, and it sat beside the red bio-bag in the back of the van as they drove into Wood Bourne. “Don’t wanna get into no trouble, Kyle,” Dan said, shaking his head as Kyle listed off places they could drop her. “We gotta get the women and haul ass out of town before the Doc finds out about this. We don’t need the Doc and this chit’s family after us too.”
They knew that they needed to drop the woman somewhere where she would be found. “Dan, the bar,” Kyle pointed. “Oh fuck no! Are you stupid?” he shouted. The pair argued for a time as they drove around downtown Wood Bourne. Finally, they agreed. They would dump her in front of the bar… but they weren’t stopping the van…