The Disparate One
XXIII

His eyes filled with flame when he rushed towards the building. He stopped at the front entrance engulfed in a scorching blaze. A fireman pulled him by his arms, dragging him away to safety. Ray snagged his arm back and ran away.

Trying to look for another way, he remembered the staircase Fier mentioned on his escape. Quickly, he bolted to the side of the building, avoiding the raining molten steel. He found the staircase still intact, however, the ladder wasn’t brought down. He found a nearby dumpster that he pushed close to reach the ladder.

He carefully and hastily lifted himself and ran up the staircase. He kept his hands away from the railings. He could feel his shoes melting and his skin being cooked. The smoke got thicker when he got to the top, smashing the kitchen window. More smoke poured. He covered his nose with his sleeve when he got inside, coughing.

Everything was glowing red. Pieces of ceiling crashed down while Ray navigated himself to Fier’s bedroom.

The door was closed but not locked. In fact, after a quick inspection, he found the knob rolling on the floor. There were some dents and scratches on the door as well. The bedroom was somehow still untouched by the fire. He flipped the place upside down, scrambling around the room, shouting Fier’s names through the creaking building.

He brought himself to the window, smashing it with a chair. He inhaled deeply before going back. His path back to the kitchen window was already covered with inferno when he crossed the living room which had now become a furnace. He scanned the laboratory and the gymnasium. Both were being consumed by the fire. Both were trashed.

He moved to the library where the fire has still yet to arrive. Sadly, he didn’t find him. He coughed and spat on the floor when he peered back to the hall where the flame was heading in his direction. He needed a way to escape.

To buy himself more time, he slammed the door and searched around for a way out, hoping there would be a secret path. He found nothing except for the massive windows. He grabbed the thickest book he could find and threw it with both hands.

Glass shards scattered on the red carpet when he poked his head out, heavily inhaling that fresh air. He looked behind him when he positioned himself on the window frame. He started to hear some crackling. The fire was peeking under the door.

He only found a ledge to walk around the penthouse. It had the size half the width of his feet. His hands firmly gripped the frame as he lowered himself onto it. He steadily planted and pressed himself against the wall when he caught the wall of flames kicking the door down.

Carefully, he walked sideways to the side of the penthouse where he found the rooftop of the neighboring building to be a plausible escape. He jerked his head, preparing for the pain. A few meters drop with a few meters of space between the penthouse and the building.

He cursed himself for going here in the first place.

After some heavy breathing, he took the leap.

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he landed with something cracking. He rolled and skidded across the rooftop, hitting one of the chimneys. Seconds afterward, the wave of pain came.

He squealed through his teeth while smashing his fists on the ground. He glanced at his left foot which was the source of agony. He wanted to examine his injury but he had no time for that. He honestly couldn’t believe he got out of it alive!

He groaned in curses when he tried to lift himself. He couldn’t move his left foot and putting weight on it would make it more painful. Instead of waiting for someone to help him, he forced himself to limp to the door and down the long stairs.

All the nearby buildings were already being evacuated. Pushing out of the building, Ray received help from one of the nearby firemen who brought him to the nearest ambulance. A paramedic attached an oxygen mask before jumping into the vehicle to search for other remedies. Ray watched in horror as the penthouse turned to ashes. A place he never thought he would value. Let alone turning into a torch.

He figured Fier might have already left, meaning he could be one of the people in the vicinity. He eyed each face he could see but to no avail. He squinted when he dropped his left foot.

He sighed with frustration and exhaustion. He examined himself as he couldn’t imagine himself limping back to the facility with only one leg. His eyes narrowed when he noticed how clean his white general uniform was. Not a single trail of fire, just ashes, which he could easily dust off. His skin and face on the other hand showed the opposite.

He guessed he could wait for a few more minutes to regain his energy and to cool off. He closed his eyes as he rested his head on the door of the ambulance, still breathing heavily. He wanted to drown the sounds of bystanders and news reporters forming around the scene.

“Sir, we need to get you to the hospital, pronto!” the paramedic said, gesturing to Ray to get on board. His accent reminded him of Oxford.

Ray’s eyes widened when he remembered what Oxford and Cal said. He immediately stood up, ignoring the pain on his foot, and took the mask off, handing it to the paramedic.

“You go ahead, I can go there myself,” he said, but the other man disapproved.

Ray rolled his eyes when he boarded the ambulance. He insisted on sitting near the doors while declining any further assistance.

As they zoomed through the streets, Ray looked out the window while tapping his fingers on his lap. He glanced at the driver and his partner who was writing on the clipboard. He returned his gaze to the window when suddenly, he caught the facade of the Grand Central Terminal. Without hesitation, he reached out for the handle and let himself fall out.

A foolish idea of escaping and bringing more pain. His body tumbled across the asphalt, nearly being run over by yellow taxis. His weak body trembled when he stood up and hastily limped to the station. He heard someone shouting behind him.

He pushed against the crowd until he got to the bottom of the marble stairs. He barged through the metal door and straight to the elevator. His unstable breathing was the only thing audible, apart from the jingle being played. The four reflective walls showed Ray’s charcoaled appearance.

The terminal and the facility remained empty and silent when his train arrived. He hoped the infirmary still had people in it.

Upon stepping out of the elevator, he found a couple of unused syringes and other medicines scattered on the floor. Near it was a trolley tipped on its side. The nurses’ stations were as empty as the echoey corridors.

Eventually, he found himself a wheelchair, though it irritated him how much effort he had to use just to turn the wheels. His groans echoed. Rolling through the infirmary, searching for someone or at least anyone, he brought out his phone and dialed the infirmary’s number. He began to hear telephones ringing from all directions. He waited for someone to pick it up, but it eventually transferred him to a recorded message.

He re-dialed when he got to one of the nurses’ stations. The phone rang immediately and he picked it up. He said random words to it and came back from his phone.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Ray murmured when he was on the move again.

He found each room was left open and abandoned. Their beds weren’t even fixed. A concerning sight. He navigated himself through the place until he arrived at Oxford’s room. He gulped when peeked through the window. His breathing stopped. The bed was empty.

He grinned when he tried turning the wheel again, but for some reason, it protested. He murmured curses again when he examined the wheelchair.

Who would make such a stupid thin-, Ray stopped on his thoughts when he found a pair of electronic motors attached to both wheels.

He huffed his stupidity away when he found a switch and a joystick on his armrest.

After half an hour of strolling around, he knew his foot wouldn’t heal itself or by himself. So he brought out his phone again and scrolled through the contacts. He swallowed hard when he found Cal’s number.

His phone rang. And rang. And rang again. And continued to do so until Ray decided to change his mind. Just as he was about to press the “end call”, Cal’s voice came. It somehow brought him joy

“What do you want?”

Ray stuttered at first.

“I-I was just wondering where everyone had gone to?”

Ray heard Cal sighed.

“They’re in a meeting. Newcomers like you aren’t allowed to participate for now. You’re under probation.”

A moment of silence came between them. Ray stared at his foot which was begging to get fixed.

“Do you need something?” Cal’s voice snapped him out. Ray gulped.

“It’s a Yes or No question, Ray. How hard is it for you to answer a simple question?”

Ray’s shaking voice admitted he needed assistance. He told Cal he was in the infirmary, alone. Though, he didn’t go into details as to why. At the same time, he had to think of an excuse for how this happened. Should he tell the truth?

A minute later, one of the elevators pinged. The shiny robot arrived with a very disappointing look.

Cal guided Ray to one of the operation rooms where they would patch his left ankle. Ray turned mute all of the sudden. He watched the robot examine the beaten foot when he was told to stay still. It was followed up by a question when Cal placed a small kit on the floor.

“How did this happen?”

Ray’s gaze darted away and fidgeted.

“I-I was walking down the stairs and tripped.”

“Of course…by the time when you stopped your fall, you looked like you came out of a coal mine,” Cal looked up to him with a dead-serious look. He kept Ray’s foot in his grasp. Slight pressure forming.

“O-oh...I was doing some pastel coloring,” Ray smiled.

Cal kept his eyes locked onto those white irides. He could see them shaking in fear as if they were hiding something. Ray tried to stay calm despite the robot grabbing a small drill. It made him nervous especially when Cal pointed the drill bit near his ankle while not even looking. They continued to exchange looks.

Out of nowhere, Cal pressed his hands on Ray’s mouth, sealing it good, as he pressed the whirring drill into his foot without any anesthesia. Ray jittered and screamed on the wheelchair, gripping the sides of Cal’s forearms tightly. His fingers and toes curled from the pain. His muffled screams softly echoed around the halls.

Ray could feel the individual teeth digging through his fractured bones. A few tears formed on his watering eyes. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Cal let go of the button on the drill and freed Ray’s mouth. The drill bit remained under the skin.

“I was outside!” Ray spat the truth. He told Cal everything he recently did with his brittle voice.

Cal shook his head with more disappointment. He explained to Ray that he could only leave the facility with his permission and if it was necessary. This was his first and final warning. He assured he won’t hesitate to shoot him on the spot next time he did it again. Ray nodded without a word.

No wonder everyone was scared of Cal. No wonder Oxford cried.

An hour or so later, a metal bracket was placed all over Ray’s left ankle that was covered with a bandage. Ray rinsed his face and removed the rest of the dirt on his body. As Ray’s punishment, he was forced to move without a cane. He hobbled alongside Cal in the halls.

“Your first test subject is already waiting for you,” Cal said all of the sudden.

Ray glanced at him with a straight posture. He nodded back when they boarded the elevator. Even though they had time for Cal to explain Ray’s job, Cal was confident Ray knew what to do. Plus, now that he found out what Ray did, he would be keeping a close eye on him.

“Room 28,” stated Cal before Ray got to his floor.

Ray sighed in relief when Cal disappeared from his surroundings. Though, now that he was looking around, he found the place… utterly familiar. He snapped his fingers when he found out why. This was the place where he first met Oxford. The eerily-looking halls, normal-sized metal doors, and large ones for security purposes.

He continued to walk with difficulty, eyeing the numbers printed on each door. He found a trolley in the distance next to a door. When he got close to it, he found the trolley conveniently having a tablet and near Room 28. He darted in either direction when shivers went down his spine.

He grabbed the tablet and examined the document. His heart stopped as soon as he saw the photo of his test subject. He shook his head in disbelief. He scrolled through the details. Everything matched. His breathing quickened all of the sudden.

With the tablet in his hand, he swung the door open and was greeted by the nostalgic freezing temps and the disinfectant scent lingering around the room. He nearly dropped his tablet.

His test subject’s eyes were dark brown. His hair was in the process of becoming white. Tall. White-skinned. Soft wrinkles on his eyes. He looked somewhere in his forties. The test subject spoke with a disturbingly similar New York accent.

He wasn’t surprised that his test subject was already awake and staring at him with a questioning and confused look.

He was surprised that his test subject was Oxford!

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