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HGH Story

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HGH: Human Growth Hormone

Jeremy taps his pencil against the corner of his tense mouth, small particles of saliva escaping onto the tip of his eraser. Lowering his arm, he skims the tip of the graphite point across his paper until he reaches its intended destination: Question three. Pressing down, he fills in the little bubble labeled A neatly and completely, just as the little teacher-given speech told him to. Lifting his pencil off the scantron sheet, Jeremy’s hazel eyes drift to his left and right, scanning the desks around him for potential help. Overlooking the gothic girl sleeping behind him and the guy flicking paper footballs to his left, Jeremy’s eyes settle on a girl to his left; a girl dressed in a blue sweater: Emily. Being only five-foot one with auburn, shoulder-length hair and mesmerizing green eyes, she sits in a chair that seems too big for her, working diligently on the test at hand. Breaking his trance, Jeremy lets his eyes ‘accidentally’ catch a glimpse of Emily’s paper before continuing to work on a test his hands are determined to finish.
As the bell rings to let class out, Jeremy passes by his teacher’s oversized desk and drops off his answer sheet. Pushing past other students, Jeremy works to catch up to Emily- who had left just a moment earlier. Like a salmon swimming upstream, Jeremy waves his way through the constant onslaught of students before coming to a calm spot against the lockers. Leaning against a single, chilled locker, Jeremy glances forward, his eyes locking on Emily’s figure amongst a group of her friends. She was surrounded, and that was all Jeremy’s small ego could take before it gave up on his mild crush. Looking on her one more time, Jeremy gnaws on his lip and ejects from his locker spot back into the main flow of student traffic, only to stop at room 512.
Walking into the cold, uninviting room, one cannot help but feel alone and out of their element. Passing shelves of complex chemical models and gigantic posters of the periodic table, Jeremy seats himself at the table in the third row, next to his friend Chaz. Chaz was what Jeremy called him anyway; nobody actually ever had heard his real name, aside from the teacher. Even in role call on the first day of freshman year, Chaz had stopped the teacher when his name came and stood up in front of the class proclaiming “It’s the Chaz!” before sitting down again. Now in his junior year, Chaz sits akin to Jeremy in the same forbidding chemistry room.
“Hey.” Jeremy mutters ahs he takes his seat. “Sup?”
“Same as always.” Chaz replies wearily. “You?”
“Nothing really. Hey, what’s long, hard, and screwed three girls in my first period?” Jeremy says with a smirk.
“DUDE!” Chaz exclaims. “You didn’t!”
“My history exam!” Jeremy replies, giggling in a manner not usually seen in boys of his age.
“Nice!” Chaz laughs back, leaning over to take out his black AC/DC binder. “Very nice. Oh, here comes Gruffman.”
Gruffman was a nickname that Jeremy and Chaz had given to their chemistry teacher, a Mr. Gluffman. Like his nickname suggests, Mr. Gluffman is a teacher with little need for virtue, honesty, or most of all, mercy, as Jeremy and Chaz had found out on the second day of class when they came to the door three seconds late and received a one-week detention for it. Though, as balding man in his forties with a bushy, grey moustache and large glasses, he certainly fit the part of science teacher.
“Ladies and Gentlemen.” Mr. Gluffman begins. “Today we are going to study unstable molecules.”
“Oh great,” Chaz remarks under his breath. “Bore-fest.”
“Isn’t it every day?” Jeremy replies back.
“Now grab your lab partner and head towards the tables along the wall.” Gluffman continues, overshadowing Jeremy and Chaz’s side conversation. “I’ll give instructions in a moment.”
Moving in small clumps, the class meanders outward towards the elongated tables at the edge of the dull science room. With each person grabbing their lab partner and worksheet before putting on incredibly geeky-looking safety goggles, the class looked ready to study advanced chemistry, all except the two boys in the corner of the room.
“Careful with that peroxide!” Jeremy warns as Chaz begins to pick up the various multicolored beakers of liquid.
“Ya ya” Chaz replies, setting down the fragile container. “Don’t want to lose all my skin or something.”
Jeremy laughs in reply before being interrupted by his teacher yet again.
“Now, who can tell me the chemical we have diluted in your first beaker?” He asks the class.
“Bronium sulfide.” A girl with long, wavy hair in the front of the class answers quickly.
“Good.” Mr. Gluffman replies. “Now take out your periodic tables and follow the instructions on the hand out you got at the beginning of class. And good luck to all of you.”
Staring at the complicated paper of chemical formulas and equations, Jeremy sighs. “I am so failing.” He mutters under his breath. “Utterly.”
“Amen man.” Chaz replies. “Big old F.”
“Well, let’s at least try not to fail, neh?” Jeremy continues. “Lets see… It says for step one we need to mix the Hydrogen mixture in beaker three with the Bronium of beaker one and stir. Only three milligrams of each. Not too hard.”
“Yeah man, we can do this!” Chaz yells in his ‘;psyched out’ voice before grabbing the two beakers and pouring them into an empty third beaker.
“You sure you got those mixtures right?” Jeremy asks, unsure of his friend’s measurements.
“I’m a natural born chemist duck, relax.”
“Duck?”
“It’s your new nickname Duck. Follow’n the mommy duck into the road and getting run over. I think it fits.”
“Oh, how flattering.” Jeremy replies, his mind wandering to thoughts of Emily from first period.
“Ok Duck, now what?”
“I dunno, I think we heat it to combine their chemical structures?”
“Whatever you say so Duck.”
“Will you stop calling me that?” Jeremy replies, slightly annoyed.
“No chance, duck.”
The two place the mixed beaker onto a smoldering hotplate to their left, oblivious of the obvious danger. Turning the rusted knob to full power, the two stand back and watch the contents of the beaker begin to give off a noxious green fume.
“This how it’s supposed to work?” Jeremy asks, unsure.
“I guess Duck. Let’s ask eh’?” Chaz replies.
“Good idea, Canada-Man.” Jeremy laughs. “Hey, Mr. Gluffman…”
An explosion rattles behind the two boys; shards of glass go flying through the air like razor-edged missiles streaming green behind them. Screaming in terror, most of the class ducks under their tables to avoid getting filleted alive, though some suffer numerous sharp cuts that ooze with some kind of green bubbles. Looking back at their now shattered beaker, the two boys now see a small glob of noxious and caustic chemicals, giving off a variety of colored sparks into the air. Rubbing a small slice on his cheek, Jeremy walks towards his table amongst the chaos.
“I think its over…” He starts as his hand reaches for the hot plate’s knob. “I think…”
But it wasn’t over. The small lump of sparking ooze began to bubble as Jeremy drew near. Letting off a whistle, akin to a boiling teapot, the lump suddenly explodes, sending the entirety of its mass onto Jeremy’s face and arms.
“Duck!” Chaz explains as he ducks back under his desk with other students. “Go for the shower!”
Screaming in pain as his skin begins to smolder, Jeremy runs over backpacks and fallen lab equipment to reach the small, unused chemical shower. With one of his red, burning hands, Jeremy reaches for the neon yellow nozzle of the shower. Cool, relieving water pours down from the showerhead onto Jeremy’s face, leaving puffs of neon lime flame wherever it strikes the ooze. As the fumes enter Jeremy’s nose, they begin to overtake his synapses until he collapses to the floor of the shower, a smoldering, soaking wet mess.
Jeremy’s eyes blink open, his pupils entirely dilated to cover his entire eye like a black blanket.
“Where…?” He mutters, his face, chest, and arms still burning from chemical contact as he tries to take in the entirety of his white hospital room. “What…?”
“Hello there.” A deep voice sounds behind Jeremy’s hospital bed. “I’m doctor Foster, and you, my good boy, are lucky to be alive.”
“Is…is that so… doctor?” Jeremy mutters, struggling to speak amidst the pain. “Why’s...that?”
“You see,” the doctor continues, “The various witch’s brew of chemicals you concocted contained some odd chemicals that definitely weren’t suppose to be there, including sulfur and other chemicals that haven’t been identified. The mixture was very unstable, and very caustic, as I’m sure you felt, but we did a full MRI and toxin test of your body, and you seem to be fine despite the damage to your epidermis. We could do a skin graft, but the best thing is for you to lie here and rest while your body heals itself.”
“That’s…good.”
“Yes it is. We can only hope you don’t get some nasty scars out of all of this. As for now, however, we need to take down some of your normal information, a physical, more or less.”
“Now?”
“Oh no my boy, you just rest. I have some cream here that should cool the inflamed areas, but you just need sleep.”
Walking over to Jeremy’s body, the doctor hooks up Jeremy’s IV and pokes the thin needle through the soft skin of the inner elbow. Flicking the heart monitor once, he walks to the door before turning.
“Sleep well, Jeremy.”
And Jeremy does just that. His eyelids suddenly amazingly heavy, he drifts into a twilight sleep, plagued by all sorts of immensely odd dreams. The inside of Jeremy’s head is no more than a jumble of thoughts, a screaming consciousness trying to make sense of the dramatic events around it. Images of the ooze, the doctor, Chaz, and his burned hands right before he passed out flash through Jeremy’s mind. They are all dwarfed, however, by the shining image of Emily in his mind’s eye. Despite this star in his mind, however, his thoughts begin to become polluted, distorted even. Emily herself is a twisted abomination, and all around her become as such as well. Sweating, Jeremy awakes from his sleep, screaming.
Looking around the deserted office, Jeremy notices that every light it off, that the window is shut- drapes down, and no sound in permeating the hallways. Removing the IV in his arm with a wince, Jeremy meanders over to the whitewashed drapes of the room’s one window, intent no letting some light into the room. Lifting the panel of plastic, however, Jeremy stands aback in surprise. The entire outside of the hospital is patrolled by men- men with very large guns and camouflage jackets.
Dropping the blind in a hurry, Jeremy’s heartbeat increases as he struggles to keep his footing as he leans against the wall. Looking down at his hands- oddly healed in such a short time, Jeremy quietly creeps towards the oaken door to his room and listens:
“There are five more that show symptoms.” A gruff voice sounds from behind the door.
“They are being contained, of course?” another questions.
“Of course.” The first voice replies. “This one here started the accident, according to our sources, I’ll take him first.”
With that last declaration of capture, Jeremy begins to panic, his heart rate shooting through the roof. His mind- still groggy goes through scenarios of how to escape. The window was guarded, obviously, so his only chance would be to overtake the any man who entered the room. Hearing the footsteps of the second man leave, Jeremy fumbles through the doors of the desk next to him for any sort of weapon- he comes up with rubber gloves and syringes.
Grabbing three of the injection needles, Jeremy crouches- in only his gown, behind his bed. The doorknob slowly opens, and Jeremy leaps forward the strike. The three needles wedged between the fingers in his right hand plunge into the chest of the large man whom enters- a soldier that could rival a professional wrestler. Screaming in surprise more than pain, the soldier backhands Jeremy with an armored fist, sending the boy flying- unconscious.
Rubbing his chest where the three needles had struck, the massive soldier lets the wounds bleed as he walks over to pick up the small, mostly naked boy lying on he floor in front of him. Smiling, he throws the boy over his shoulder and walks back into the hallway.
“Got the primary.” He mentions to a solder passing him carrying a teenage girl.
“Load em’ up.” He soldier replies as the two head out of the hospital. “Hey, Sergeant, you get in a scrap?” He asks, motioning two the blood on the man’s shirt.
“This one put up a fight.” The man replies to the younger soldier. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“When is there ever?” The other man replies, laughing, as they exit the building. “When is there ever?”
Jeremy’s eyes open, and with them comes a massive influx of pain. Head throbbing, Jeremy looks around his surroundings- a metal box. Mildly claustrophobic, Jeremy’s heart begins to beat quicker as he wriggles his way around the metal prison- little more than a coffin, so that his face is on the three metal bars that allow air to flow freely. Staring outside of the massive case, Jeremy notices over two-dozen other boxes of the same type, more than likely also filled with people from the hospital. Suddenly, Jeremy is jerked up and down quickly, and he realizes that he must be being transported somewhere.
Looking at the boxes again, Jeremy begins to speak, lips pressed against the metallic bars: “Hello?” He asks meekly. “Anyone in there? Anyone know what’s going on?”
Almost instantly, four or five voices answer in unison: “Me.”
Wriggling to give himself more of a view, Jeremy speaks again. “Well?” He asks. “What the hell is going on?”
Most are silent, but a girl decided to respond to Jeremy’s question with intense interest. “We are captives, obviously. And If I’m not mistaken, it’s your fault- Jeremy.”
“Duck?” A boy’s voice sounds from a box to Jeremy’s left. “That you in there?”
“Chaz?” Jeremy replies, ecstatic as he can be while still a prisoner. “Why are you here?”
“Same reason all of us are- that is, your science class.” A boy replies from right next to Jeremy. “Because of your goddamn little explosion.”
“Some acid or whatever got on me…” Jeremy begins. “But those burns didn’t even last that long. Why do they have all of us? For study?”
“For quarantine, more like.” A sullen girl’s voice sounds from another box. “They have us because they think we’re contagious. Or dangerous. Either way, we’re fucked.”
“I’m sure it’s not like that…” Jeremy begins. “There are lab accidents all the time.”
“Not like this.” A deep voice echoes. “Not like this at all.”
“What?” Jeremy asks, intrigued.
“I don’t know about the rest of you…” The voice starts. “But I feel a hell of a lot stronger. I mean like crazy strong. Like I could crush someone’s head in my fucking hand.”
That voice! Jeremy realized too late. “Andy?” He asked, afraid of the answer.
“Yeah, shrimp nuts.” The voice replied back. “Your little explosion has a lot to answer for if it makes us all fucking hyped up!”
Mumbles of distrust echoes through out the caravan when it suddenly comes to a halt- sending the teenager-filled canisters flying on their sides. Attempting to look up, Jeremy notices the face of the man who had captured him hovering in the light of the open trunk.
“Wakey wakey.” The man begins. “Rise and shine, little children.”
The boxes were unladed, one by one, and wheeled into s massive, dome-shaped facility in the middle of a stark, dry desert. Oblivious to the cries and pleadings of their captives, the soldiers took the cargo inside and placed them, in a line, in a massive hallway- swarming with guards that surrounded the entire outside of the structure.
Panicking, Jeremy is suddenly relieved when his canister- at the end of the line- is opened and he falls to his knees at the feet of the sergeant who had captured him.
“I should kill you for stabbing me.” The man began. “But I see you’re groveling for you mistakes, so you can live.”
Unsure of how to respond, Jeremy begins to get to his feet, only to be smacked in the head by the butt of a rifle. “Stay down.” The man continues. “Until I tell you to get up.”
Jeremy nods, blood dripping from a small cut in his scalp. “Good.” The man says, terribly sure of himself. “Now, you see these children here? All twenty-two of them? You are the reason they are here, and none of you are going anywhere.” The Sergeant made sure to be particularly loud, making sure that every teenager in the base knew who caused their plight. “You are all now, by order of the United states, under quarantine. You will all be released, one by one, and will follow our exact directions, just as this boy here is going to.” The man smirked and added: “If any of you even think of escaping, we will pump you so full of lead you will be usable as a pencil- we can afford to lose one or two test subjects if we have two-dozen others to work with. Now march!” The general hit Jeremy in the head again with the rifle, causing him to stumble.
Jeremy, followed by the population of his chemistry class, was marched into a massive holding cell in the center of the facility- the size of an indoor football field and colored entirely white.
“You will stay here.” A voice sounded over the intercoms that were placed at the edge of the ceiling. “And you all will do what you wish until we order otherwise. Food will be delivered en-masse at whatever time we feel like, and you all can use the single shower in the far corner of the room, if we decide to put on the water. You may be provided clothes to replace your robes, you may not. Have a nice day.” With that, the voice fizzled away, and forty-six eyes were suddenly trained on Jeremy.
“Guys….” Jeremy began, both flustered and worried by his situation. “It’s not my fault.”
“No, it’s mine.” Chaz sounded from the back of the mob. “And it’s everyone’s and nobody’s. We can’t blame Jeremy for this! None of us are hurt, really, aside from him, so cut him some slack. We’ll get out of here.”
“And how is that, Latino-man?” Andy sounds from close bye; his voice enraged enough to match his massively intimidating bulk. “Gonna hop the fence?”
“Shut up,” Chaz begins. “Or I’ll…”
A girl with a massive amount of ear piercings and dyed pink hair interrupts them both. “You’ll do nothing. Either of you. We all need to sit down and…you know, chillax.”
“As much as I hate that word,” Chaz begins. “She’s right.”
The other twenty-one captives agree, and they each take their own little area in the mostly blank facility to curl into a ball and mull over the happenings of the past day. Jeremy and Chaz sit together and talk in a way not much different than they would in a cafeteria at school.
“So dude…whats the deal?” Jeremy asks. “I know I got knocked out and shit like that after the explosion, and I went to the hospital, but what happened to you?”
“Me, or all of us? Cause’ there’s no real difference, man. You got iced by the shower, and then you got rushed out by crazy-ass paramedics. That simple. One stayed behind to inspect the rest of us, and she decided that we all needed to go to the hop-it-al, so we did. They gave us each our own room, and said they’d be with us in a minute. Next thing I know, Duck, I’m being woken up by a bitchslap to the face and getting crammed in a cereal box with the Lucky Charms Leprechaun.”
“That’s… yeah.” Jeremy begins. “So they got all of us? Why? I’m healed from those burns but ok. Aren’t you?”
“I’m fine, Duck.” Chaz replies. “I mean, fine, but Jesus I’m itchy! I have dry skin out the wazoo and I have dandruff! Me! Mr. Head-and-shoulders! What’s the deal?”
“I can’t help you with that. Jeremy replies, “but Andy said back In the truck-thing or whatever that eh felt stronger. And we all know a dude with those kinda anger issues doesn’t need any more muscle.”
“You’re telling me!” Chaz interrupts. “One time, he turned me upside-down and slammed me into a trashcan for wearing the wrong color socks! Socks man! I mean, who even looks at those?”
“MY point is!” Jeremy continues, “That something is up and we’re all quarantined for a reason. If that explosion made Andrew the psycho get a little more so and gave you chapped lips, well, maybe it did other stuff.”
“Like what? Give some cheerleaders diaper rash and huge eyebrows? Come on Duck, like something we botch together can do that.”
“I guess…” Jeremy trails off. “I still say we should ask them if anything is up.”
The two, still wary of the harsh thoughts of the rest of the captive students, make their way around the room and begin to inquire into the lives of the teenagers who they got captured in the first place. Bypassing about six students who said that they suffered from absolutely no ill ailments, they finally came to the Goth girl who had spoken up and defended Jeremy earlier. Jeremy looked away from her nearly naked body- clothed in only a hospital robe, and attempted to distract himself with the immense variety of rings that dangled from her ears right below her purple hair- pulled into a ponytail at the moment. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander, however. He had only seen her at school on a handful of occasions, as she sat in the back of his class, and even then she was clothed in her usual assortment of striped socks, chains, random straps that did absolutely nothing, and any assortment of black clothing. Now, however, when he could see her cream-colored body in it’s entirety, Jeremy found himself attracted to her, despite his best efforts.
“Hi.” Jeremy said as he walked up to her, blushing, yet not knowing her name. “Me and Chaz were just wondering how you were doing.”
“Fine.” She replied quickly. “Well, relatively speaking.” She smirked, quite unusual for someone in league with such a depressing crowd. “What are you asking me for?”
“We were just wondering…” Jeremy began. “The accident, we’re all here for a reason, right? Chaz has messa bad dandruff,”
“And itchy skin, Duck.” Chaz interrupted.
“And itchy skin.” Jeremy finished. “And we were wondering if anyone else who got hit by the chemicals had anything in the same league.”
“Well,” The girl began. “I don’t really know if any of this counts, but my fingers are killing me. My nails are so sore!” She rubbed her fingernails- painted to match her hair, for effect.
“Anything helps.” Jeremy smiled. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” The girl replied. “And in case you were wondering, the name’s Jenna.”
Walking away, smiling despite their current captivity, Chaz and Jeremy continued to the next student- the class smart-ass and teacher’s pet Eric. Eric was, for lack of a better word, pompous. He was stuck-up, self-righteous, and saw himself as some sort of smart-ass that nobody else could touch. Italian, and generally good-looking, he was generically cool, smart, and considered untouchable by just about anyone. And he was now standing naked in the corner of a massive white room.
“Uhh…hi.” Jeremy began. “Chaz and I were just coming to ask if…”
“What?” Eric replied. “I’m thinking here, something you don’t do often enough.”
“I see that…” Jeremy replied.
“I doubt it.” Eric smirked. “Go off with your weed-growing friend there and pester someone else for once.”
Angry, Chaz jumped forward into the conversation. “Listen here you bread-baking little greaseball!” He started.
“Yes?” Eric replied, turning. “Do you have something to say in your broken English? Out with it then!”
“Veremos quién se ríe cuando yo le mato, usted perro italiano, ignorante y pequeño. ¿Bien, usted saliva pequeña fea de gusano?” Chaz cursed back. “Remember that.”
;Por supuesto.” Eric replied in kind. “Don’t think you’re the only one with two dialects, worm.”
Jeremy immensely annoyed and Chaz enraged, the two marched off in search of more of their scattered classmates. They passed by the other dozen and a half others, asking them all the same question- those that would listen or those who didn’t attempt to kill Jeremy, and came up almost empty-handed.
“So let me get this straight,” Chaz began as the two settled down in their original seating area. “We spend and hour asking people if they got dandruff, and all we end up with is a cheerleader who feels fat, a Goth with a cuticle problem, some bookworm with a toothache, and about a million death threats? That is, sadly, absolutely useless, Duck. Game over.”
“Hardly game over.” Jeremy replied, his face showing his disappointment. “But you are right. This is just stupid, we need to get out of here, not focus on conspiracy theories.”
“Exactly right, my dear boy.” A voice interrupted them both. “And that’s what I’ve been doing for the past hour.”
“Eric?” Jeremy glanced upwards at the oddly smug face before them. “What do you want?”
“To escape, of course.” Eric continued. “This hour has been dull enough, and I’m not all about letting my precious time be used up by these bumbling buffoons.”
“With huge ass guns.” Chaz interrupted.
“They may be armed, yes,” Eric muttered. “But what I have planned won’t require us to meet these armed men with ‘huge ass guns’ as you call them. So it’s entirely acceptable.”
Jeremy looked past Eric and saw that he had already somehow formed a posse, Andy and another kid named Hugo, stood behind him, arms crossed.
“Got yourself some muscle?” Jeremy smirked. “Since when are you a big bad mob boss?”
“Soon enough.” Eric laughed back. “But it is of little consequence. Right now, I need all the cooperation that I can muster. Are you with us?”
“Who’s ‘us’?” Jeremy asked back. “Surely not just you three?”
“Hardly.” Eric scoffed. “Andy and Hugo here are working with me, yes, but Amy has as well, along with Amanda, Danny, Rob, and Jenna.”
That last name- Jenna, struck a nerve in Jeremy’s brain. She was going, and the second he realized it, Jeremy knew he had to as well, despite protest from his better judgment. “We’re in.” Jeremy finally replied.
“Good. I shall see to others.” Eric laughed as he left. “Meeting in the center of the room soon.”
“Thanks for the volunteer, Duck.” Chaz grumbled. “Not like I had a say or anything.”
“What?” Jeremy replied, bewildered. “ I thought…”
“You thought nothing, man. All you heard was that chica bonita’s name, and you were hooked. Don’t try and bullshit me.”
Jeremy looked almost hurt from the sudden, but deserved attack from his best friend. “I’m sorry…” Jeremy continued.
“It’s aright’, Duck.” Chaz concluded. “Just think with the bigger head next time, alright?”
Laughing, the two began to walk towards the center of the room, where fifteen of the twenty-three teenagers had gathered in their revealing gowns.
The two took seats in the massive circle that was akin to ones used in kindergarten classes for story time, and cocked their heads forward at the regrettably nearly naked form of Eric who was standing in the middle of them all. Lifting his arms, as if begging for some sort of dramatic effect, he began:
“Friends, classmates, welcome!”
“To hell.” A girl muttered.
“Yes.” Eric replied. “But only temporarily. I have, within my massive intellect, devised a plan where all who participate may escape- the others will not. I assume you all want to escape?”
A cheer rose up from the fifteen students- 8 girls and 7 boys, to root on their sudden leader. Jeremy and Chaz, of course, looked on with distrust and anger where everyone else looked on with glee, but it didn’t matter. They were going to be free soon enough. Eric continued his self-indulgent speech:
“I have, of course, in my own brilliance, discovered a way for just myself to escape, but I am not nearly that selfish. No, Instead I can help us all escape, simply by using the air ducts.”
“You can’t be serious?” a blonde girl in the back commented. “I mean, seriously. That shit only works in James Bond.”
“Do you distrust of me?” Eric accused her. “Do you not want to escape?”
The girl tried to reply, refute her statement, but it was too late. She had been alienated, a member of the crowd that originally held slots for Jeremy and Chaz. “I’ll go…” She muttered.
“Good.” Eric snapped back. “Now, this is going to take a monumental effort on everyone’s part- the air vents are twenty good feet up. However, if we get into them, it should only be a short crawl into the outside, where we should be free of any sort of armed assault.”
“You do realize,” Jeremy piped up, annoyed and intrigued at the same time. “That we have no clue where we are, right? That we have no way of getting home, that we’re almost entirely naked, and that they have guns? Did you hear that crazy sergeant earlier?”
“I did, yes.” Eric muttered. “But it beats being stuck in here, am I right?”
As soon as Eric muttered those last words, an almost invisible door opened in the alabaster wall closest to the circle. Two guards stormed through and grabbed Eric by his arms. Despite his height and strength, the Italian was no match for the two trained guards, and as the other students watched in awe and horror, Eric disappeared behind the door as it slid shut- no crease or seam remaining.
The students ran up to the wall, en-masse, and began to pound on the bedrock, or steel, whatever it was, screaming in vain for their self-appointed leader to return. Tears were shed, and slowly, they began to peel away from the wall, one by one, returning to sit in the circle- serving no actual purpose other than to find a place of community. Those not involved in the plan were oblivious to all this, however, and had retreated to the other side of the room- plotting on their own.
Jeremy and Chaz had, of course, felt the reverberations by this quick and massive intrusion, but they had seldom felt any feelings of loss- Eric was a maniacal asshole. Smart perhaps, but a maniac and asshole nonetheless. The two sat with the others in the circle that Eric had created before, and the entirety of the teenagers was silent.
Sitting, thinking, they mulled over their fate. Trapped for no reason that they could discern- their self-proclaimed leader captured, hope was draining from each and every one of them. Sighs and frowned looks encircled the area; the only glimmer of excitement was encaged in Chaz’s eyes- glad to be rid of his sudden and short-lived enemy.
“Well, at least he’s gone.” Chaz muttered to no one in particular.
“But now what?” Jeremy muttered back. “He was our only chance of escape.”
“No he wasn’t.” Chaz snapped bitterly. “He had a plan, yeah. He made it up, sure. But doesn’t mean he was key to make it work. We can still figure out our way from this place. Like he said, I’m Mexican, Duck. I can hop a fence or two.”
“This isn’t the time Chaz,” Jeremy continued, oblivious. “They took him, how do we know they won’t take us next? You saw how fast it happened! Nobody say it coming and nobody could stop it. They took our leader, and if another rises up they’ll take him too.”
Sighing once more, Jeremy slowly trudged towards the sidewall where one of the speakers was attached. “Can you hear me in there?” he yelled at the object. “Can you fucking pick this up? What do you want? What is it that we’ve done?”
“It isn’t what they’ve done, boy.” A voice suddenly blared back, deafening Jeremy. “It’s what you’ve done, and I’m surprised, though grateful, you haven’t been strangled to death yet. Now go back to mulling over your fate.”
The voice crackled away with a sharp whining noise, and almost every face in the room turned to look at Jeremy with the same hateful eyes that they had once before. Standing, the group headed towards Jeremy with malicious intent, their eyes ablaze with cries for retribution. Chaz and, surprisingly, Jenna rushed ahead of the small crowd to stand by Jeremy’s side.
“We gotta get outa here, Duck.” Chaz panted as his eyes searched the walls for any chance of escape. “Those bastards got our own men against us and I’m not liking it.”
“I’d have to agree with Chaz here.” Jenna added. “We gotta go, now.”
“You two been acquainted?” Jeremy accused, suddenly oblivious to the imminent danger.
“Yeah, we dated in eighth grade.” Jenna replied. “He was ‘the Chaz’ then too.”
“In ANY case,” Chaz interrupted. “I say we head for that duct up there now, before we get our heads ripped off our torsos.”
“Agreed.” Jenna and Jeremy replied simultaneously as the two ran around to the left of the room to avoid the oncoming classmates.
“Jeremy’s mine!” A voice yelled from within the mob as it drew closer.
“No way, MINE!” Another replied before a third shouted something akin.
“Fuck all of you!” Andy suddenly screams as he rises from the crowd. “He’s mine!”
Four or five male members of the crowd rise up to meet Andy in his challenge, and they soon begin a massive fight over the rights to reenact the events of the battle of Leningrad in a one-on-one match with Jeremy. Andy of course, dominated- going so far as to smash two of his opponents skulls together with a sickening cracking noise.
While the mob’s focus suddenly switched towards the mini-massacre that was going on within their ranks, Jeremy, Chaz, and Jenna each slid off towards the single air vent that stood twelve feet above them.
“We’re going to have to climb. Fast.” Jeremy said, rushed. “We climb on each other’s shoulders. How much do each of you weigh?”
“One-Forty-two, Duck.” Chaz replied. “All muscle.”
“And you?” Jeremy asked Jenna quickly. “So I know the order we can go in!”
“I’m not telling you!” Jenna snapped. “You should never ask a girl that!”
“She’s one-twenty-five.” Chaz muttered under his breath. “Ain’t that right?”
“More than that after you broke up with me!” Jenna snapped back accusingly.
Lowering his eyes, Chaz nodded. “I can see where it went, I thought your jeans were a little tighter when I passed you in the halls.”
Turning, Jenna swings her arm and lands a smack right to the side of Chaz’s cheek. “Boost me up before I kill my ex-boyfriend.” She muttered to Jeremy.
“It was a compliment!” Chaz snaps back in his defense. “You resemble a chica more now, you know, in the back.”
“Whatever Chaz.” Jenna mutters. “Now let’s go, Jeremy.”
Jeremy crouched, moving incredibly quickly this time, and let Chaz stand on his shoulders. Leaning against the wall, the two then helped Jenna climb on top of Chaz. Their human ladder swaying as Jeremy’s strength faltered, Jenna managed to swing open the air grate and climb inside.
“Holy shit!” She creamed back, her voice echoing inside the aluminum tube. “It’s cold!”
“Great, now can you help us up?” Chaz replied, looking back at the mob who has just finished watching Andy beat three opponents into little more than hamburger meat. “Like, now?”
Jenna hooked her two legs on the inside of the grate as she lay down on her stomach and extended both her arms down to Chaz. Slowly pulling him up, Jeremy began to push on Chaz’s feet, averting his eyes.
“You know Chaz,” He began. “You really need to-“
“Don’t.” Chaz cut him off. “Say one word about my boys’ and I’ll remove yours.”
Chaz eventually made it inside of the grate, of course, and then he and Jenna lay down to offer Jeremy a hand, their hair and robes blown entirely in front of them from the rush of cold air behind them.
“Hey, Jenna, remember the time when that cold air…” Chaz began to say as he lowered his hands to help Jeremy.
“Chaz!” Jeremy screamed from four feet below. “If you are coming onto your ex girlfriend while your both nearly naked in a cold air vent while helping me escape from an angry mob, I am not amused!”
“Sorry Duck!” Chaz yelled as both he and Jenna pulled him up into the air duct. “We got you, no worries.”
“I think there are worries, Chaz.” Jeremy replied. “Mister Muscles and the rest of them are coming our way! Shut the grate!”
Chaz, Jenna, and Jeremy quickly fitted the metallic grate in place- entirely ignoring the fact that all three of their robes had blown away, and quieted down. Peeking through the small slits in the metallic cover, they glimpsed at the mob of students when suddenly a loud popping noise- like popcorn, echoed throughout the white chamber below them. Through the obstruction, they saw a series of men- armed with oddly shaped guns, charge through the invisible door that they had used before. Screams echoed as students were hit by a blast of what looked like glimmering cellophane- and the three in the duct looked away.
“We gotta go!” Jeremy concluded, attempting to move while wedged against both the naked forms of Chaz and Jenna. The three agreed silently and began to shuffle on their hands and knees in a single file line down the metallic pipe.
“I hope brainy boy was right.” Chaz mutters to himself as they move. “I mean, how do we know this doesn’t lead to the furnace or whatever?”
“We don’t.” Was Jeremy’s only reply, and Jenna stayed silent, muttering to herself as the three moved slowly forward.
They crawled for quite some time, until, eventually, a light began to reflect off the metallic sides of the circulation duct.
“DUCK!” Chaz called out from the front. “You see what I see?”
“I’m behind Jenna.” Jeremy replied. “So I see something nice, but not what you’re referring to, I’m sure.”
“Hey!” Jenna shot back, half kicking Jeremy in the collarbone.
“Just a compliment.” Jeremy muttered, now aware of his blatant comment. Responding sheepishly, he added, “sorry.”
“It’s aight.” Jenna replied, quieting down. “Sorry too.” She added quickly.
“Yo, both of you keep moving! We got light up here!” Chaz yelled back. “I think we’re gonna be outa here in no time flat!”
The three continued to shuffle, grumbling over the constant rubbing of their knees and cramped space, until Chaz suddenly stopped, his head sticking out into fresh air.
“Duck…” He mumbled. “We got ourselves a problem.”
;Problem?” Jeremy called from behind.
“Yeah, what problem?” Jenna chimed in. “Chaz?”
“We’re…at the end of the duct.” Chaz concluded. “And it’s the outside of the compound.”
“Well that’s good, isn’t it?” Asked Jeremy.
“Well, technically, yeah.” Chaz continued. “Except that we’re over 30 feet in the air and below us is a cliff face with the kind of jagged rocks and crashing waves that you only see in movies. And the light is dimming, it must be almost eight-o-clock already.”
“Well, we need to get down!” Jeremy yelled from inside the vent. “Any way down at all, Chaz?”
“Fraid not, hombre.” Chaz concluded. “Though I could try to…”
Just as Chaz muttered those words, he began to move about in the vent, sending a shuttering and echoing clanking noise through out the length of the duct. Maneuvering his legs in front of him, Chaz attempted to make it so he was sitting on the end of the vent itself. That’s when he fell.
“Chaz!” Jenna called out as she lunged forwards to grab onto his leg as it disappeared over the edge. “I got you!”
“Baby, don’t ever let go.” Chaz yelled back, upside-down and naked hanging off the cliff face.
“Call me baby again and we’ll see.” She yelled back, attempting to steady herself and prevent Chaz from dragging her off the edge as well. “Can you see a ledge or some kind of, anything you can grab onto?”
“I think I do, can you move me to the right a little?”
“I can’t move you, period. You gotta swing that big head of yours onto it.”
“I’ll break my freaking neck!”
“Worth the risk, I’m sure.”
With that, Chaz began to sway in Jenna’s grip, her conviction faltering as momentum threatened to free Chaz’s leg from her hand. Moving in the pale light that began to disappear beneath the think clouds, Chaz eventually swung his body enough so that Jenna was forced to let go. Spinning through the air, Chaz managed to land half-heartedly on a small horizontal shelf of rock twelve feet blow with a sickening thud.
“CHAZ?” Jeremy and Jenna screamed in unison.
“I’m…. here.” Chaz responded choking through the dust he had cleared up. “But the ocean sure is salty as hell.”
“You’re about twenty feet above it, you know that?” Jeremy replied from inside the tunnel.
“Still wet, Duck.”
“You break anything on that fall?”
“I broke my assbone, Duck.” Chaz replied, still lying on the small shelf of rock. “But my face broke the fall for the rest of me.”
Jenna looked back at Jeremy for guidance while mouthing the words “now what?” Jeremy shook his head and leaned forward over Jenna’s hip.
“Chaz! I’m going to lower Jenna down, alright?”
“Sure thing, aint’ gonna be space for you too, though.” Chaz yelled back as he began to stand upright from his fall, wincing from the pain.
“Ready?” Chaz yelled as he laid his body flat out inside the duct while gripping Jenna’s hands tightly. “She’s coming down.” Lowering her slowly, Chaz began to feel the strain of Jenna’s full weight on his shoulders and wrists. “You close to it?”
“Not even!” Jenna called back. “Don’t let go!”
Jeremy’s eyes glanced back and forth inside the dimly lit tunnel as his arms felt as though they would rip out of their sockets. His mind raced, he felt blood and adrenaline pumping in his veins, and then he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Shutting his eyes as tight as possible, he let out a low groan and let Jenna fall- hopefully she would be caught. Hopefully she would be alright. Hopefully.
There was no gut-wrenching crunch, no crash, no cry for help. Jeremy winked open one eye and looked down. Jenna and Chaz were safe and sound on the ledge below, save for the fact that Jenna's hands were covered in blood. She looked on in abject horror, her hands held before her as her eyes widened in shock. The tips of her fingers gushed blood, the plasma trickling down the sides of her digits from the lining of her cuticle. She hadn't cut herself, or fallen on her hands, Jeremy could see that. Instead, the blood was pouring from her fingernails, that, unless Jeremy was mistaken, had grown to over five inches long!
“JEREMY!” Jenna screamed, small tears forming in her eyes from the stress. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”
“I...” Jeremy mumbled out, not sure what to say. “I don't know...I just dropped you, right? And Chaz caught you... Chaz! Rip off a part of your robe! Put pressure on the bleeding!”
Chaz ripped the bottom of his clothing, obeying silently. He handed it to Jenna, her hands frantically attempting to wrap the bandage around each finger while her entire body was shaking.
“Jeremy....lets just...” She began, not sure quite what she was saying. “Lets just keep going. Forget my hands, we...we can do whatever to them later.”
“Alright.” Jeremy replied, steadying himself on the end of the air vent. “I'm coming down, guys.”
Grabbing a hold of the sharp, metallic edge of the duct, Jeremy let his legs dangle above the small piece of flat land below him. Two sets of arms grab his legs- one set slipping in their grasp and poking him painfully in the legs. Jenna's.
“Ready guys? I'm letting go...”
Jeremy drops, only about three inches. The others hold him up and then lower him slowly, his body descending to the ground softly with Chaz and Jenna's help. Dust billowing up from his landing, Jeremy quickly turned his attention to Jenna. He took a quick hold of her hands and stared deep into the scabbing fingertips. The nails that had been there were long gone- the nail polish stretched across what could only now be described as talons until it was barely noticeable. They were long and black, sharp at the tip and slightly hooked. Were it not for him seeing them on Jenna's hand, Jeremy would have sworn they had come from a bird of prey. The nail had morphed itself- grown at an amazing rate and twisted into the deadly form before him. This was not natural. At all.
“They look...” Jeremy began, looking downward to avoid Jenna's stare. “They look alright. They're already scabbing over, and I think that they're going to stay that size. Whatever happened, I don't know, but I'm sure it has to do with the explosion. You said your' fingers were sore, right? Well this must be why! And if you have this going on...who knows what else could be happening? Chaz! Have you noticed anything weird?”
“I told you, Duck.” Chaz replied, “My skin is itching and burning, man. I got skin flakes all up in my hair, its' nasty. Oh god, dude. You don't think my skin will fall off, do you? Because that is NOT a good look for me, man. I mean, skin is important, right? Shit dude! Let me keep my skin! Dude!”
“Chaz, chill!” Jeremy snapped back, his hands now tightly grasping Chaz's shoulders.

_____________________________________ Updated Aug. 28

A line of sweat dripped down Chaz's cheek, winding its way across his now thick, cracked skin. "Look, Duck, I'll chill. I'm sorry, I just got, you know, caught up in it all. I mean....damn, look at her! No offense- Melissa. I just mean, what could happen to us? Do you feel different, Duck? Anything at all? Think you're going to sprout wings? Becuase that'd sure help us out right now."

"Chaz, you need to relax. Look, we deal with this as it happens, alright? We seek to understand it, or whatever, when we get out of this insane little barrax. Now get ahold of yourself and come on."

Jeremy's face was stone- he meant buisness. The mountainside did, too, as far as they had come it was still a ways before they hit the ocean. Even then, they would have to swim or follow the coastline to safety. Neither, at the moment, felt like a good, solid plan.

Suddenly, Jeremy's hair stood on end as a siren came echoing from the air duct above them. The thuds of mobilizing troops shook small rocks loose from the shelf above the trio. "Go go go!" Jeremy screamed at Chaz and Melissa. "We need to go NOW! Jump!"

Not looking to see if the others followed, Jeremy leapt into the ocean headfirst. He closed his eyes and tucked his legs, hoping to land on water that was neither full of rocks nor sharks ready to devour his flesh. Instead, he hit rushing saltwater waves with a sick 'crack' that made his exposed skin burn in agony. The cannonball's shockwave was echoed by two others- no doubt his friends following him. But the impact of the ocean and it's cool, harsh grip on Jeremy's tired body was too much. Try as he might, Jeremy felt his eyes glaze over and close- his entire body limp as a ragdoll in the turbulant ocean.

-----------------

Jeremy's eyes flicked open, a harsh sunlight invading his retenas without permission. Squinting, Jeremy tried to raise his arm to cover his face, only unable to do so. A sharp pain echoed throughout his upper body, a dull ache following in his left arm. Looking down, his face caked with sand, Jeremy saw a pleasant beach, and a stump that should have been his complete left arm. Instead there was only gnarled, melted flesh, dried blood encrusted on the endge and smeared across his upper body. Naked and wounded, Jeremy attempted to roll onto his stomach and then back into a sitting position. Pain raking him, Jeremy picked his head up and crosse his legs, keeping his breathing as calm as he could as he took the scene in. Once his brain realized what it was, however, calm breathing was no longer an option.
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EspioArtwork31's avatar
Painful not gonna happen to me so long