Gary Hewitt

Treatment

 

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I’m safe. I can hear them above. They can’t see me. I’d rather die than to be caught. 

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*

 

Graham York’s scratched his furrowed forehead. He had the patient shackled to his bed. He scoured the floor. He saw interminable chequered tiles and smelt the ever present stench of disinfectant.  

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“Is something wrong orderly?”

 

Graham struggled for words.

 

“Well?”

 

“I can’t find patient 00128.”

 

Dr Cooper shook his head.

 

“Surely you’re joking.”

 

“I can’t understand it. He was in the straitjacket. The door was secure. I saw to it myself.”

 

“Find that patient. I will not have inmates running free. Your ineptitude has put us all at great personal risk.” 

 

“He can’t have gotten far.”

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*

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I pray they don’t pull the flooring up. I feel sorry for Graham. He’s been good to me but he has no idea what they do here. I hear the drills. I hear the chiseling.

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*

 

Graham returned to Jim’s cell. His fingers discovered a sliver of metal amidst the bed sheets.

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“How the hell did you get a paper clip?”

 

He knew his quarry couldn’t have gone far. He inspected the ground and discovered a tile out of kilter.

He ripped the floor apart and shone a torch into a tiny tunnel.  

 

“00128, I know you can hear me. Why don’t you come back?”

 

Graham heard shuffling deep in the darkness.  

 

“Come on Jim. You don’t want me to come after you do you?”

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*

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Graham, why did you have to find that tile? You’ll try and get me. I can’t let that happen. Dr Cooper will punish me.

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*

 

The orderly pulled away a scrap of cloth snagged in the pipe work. Graham saw movement to his left and eased himself forward.

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“You know I’m your friend. You can trust me.’

 

His eyes snared a small naked foot beneath the pipes. Graham reached for his handcuffs.

 

“I’m almost with you. Dr Cooper is working late tonight. I’m sure he’ll have something to help you rest.”

 

He invaded a dull square reaching a surprising height. Graham rose, ready to apprehend the problem.

 

“You’ll not take me.”

 

00128 swung a shard of sharpened wood into Graham’s temple. The smaller man rolled the orderly onto his back with the weapon pointed at his captor’s throat.

 

“I’ll not go back to his experiments. You’re not taking me to him.”

 

00128 jabbed the wood. Again and again the wood fell. 00128’s blue attire was saturated with precious blood.  

 

There were no other sounds except for the pacing of murderous footsteps. He removed the handcuffs and seized Graham’s truncheon. 00128 entered another tunnel and raced towards a blue haze. He pushed open a grill, eager to develop an exit plan. The blue brilliance blinded him for a moment before his eyes settled on a catalogue of bodies.  

 

The patient inched forward. He discovered a label numbered 117 attached to a toe. He ripped off a small sheet covering the body and beheld the rotting cadaver of a man. Several jagged stitches stretched from the chest to the abdomen. 

 

A sterile face fixed with a grimace stared into 00128’s eyes sucking him into his last moments of existence. The skull had been hacked and the brain removed. Membranous unwanted tissue scoured the inside of the cranium. James backed away.  

 

He scanned the various the bodies in their systematic arrangement. The numbers ascended from 118 to 127. The flesh of 127 showed signs of recent bleeding.

 

00128 glanced away too horrified to stare. He searched a tray by the end of the bed and discovered a jar filled with brine, brain and a tag marked with a delivery date.

 

His hand strayed onto the next human receptacle. James found a saw, a pair of forceps and a basin.

Three pairs of surgical gloves lay nearby along with several jars labeled with the next number.  

 

“I suggest you spend more bloody effort in looking for 00128,’ boomed a voice behind a green screen.

 

“I’m here tonight to oversee the extraction. Two doctors are due within the hour to operate.”

 

The patient cowered at the sound of Dr Cooper’s voice. He tightened his grip on Graham York’s abandoned truncheon and inched towards the partition.

 

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing this will be? I don’t think the press would be as open to scientific advancement as much as our generous benefactors.”

 

00128 inched to the side of the partition and peeped through a small gap. The Dr slammed down the phone and opened a notepad.

 

“You want to kill me.”

 

Dr Cooper’s chair span around. 00128 smacked his tormentor across the wrists, forcing the healer to yell.

 

“No-one can hear you, can they, Doctor?”

 

Dr Cooper regained his control despite his discomfort.  

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“00128, we’ve turned the hospital upside down looking for you?”

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“Show me your hands. You’re not ringing anyone.”

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The Dr obeyed. 00128 snapped on a set of restraints before urging his captive to rise.

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“James, you’re having a delusional episode induced by the new drugs you‘re on. Listen to me. I can put you back in your nice little room. I can make things pleasant for you again.”

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00128 ushered the Doctor towards a human tray.

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“Make it nicer like them you mean?”

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“Them?”

 

“I mean those bodies and my predecessors.”

 

The Doctor looked past the row of dead beds. 

 

“What bodies? The only people here are you and me.”

 

The patient nudged the Doctor onto the bed.

 

“Time to lie down.”

 

Graham struck him a blow across the throat. His guest crumpled onto the bed. 

 

“You’ve been working far too hard. You have earned a nice long sleep.”

 

00128 seized a leather strap of cloth and extended it across Dr Cooper’s chest before sealing him with a click. He followed this with more restraints to secure his legs, neck and feet. He manacled his captive’s hands and layered them above his waist.

 

“I demand you release me. This has gone too far.”

 

The captive’s voice had risen several octaves. His brow bled sweat and the liquid streamed towards an exposed chest.

 

“James Proctor, if you don’t release me immediately your medication could well result in you believing this delusion. It could lead to an embolism and will result in your death.”

 

The doctor felt his skull being secured. Clamps tightened, a drill whirred.

 

Dr Cooper screamed. 00128 fed his prisoner a ball gag. 

 

“If I’m suffering from an embolism Dr, shouldn’t I try to relieve the pressure?”

 

The drill came close to the left ear, before rising, before boring.

 

His victim unleashed a muffled shout. The shriek paused when the drill became tangled with blood and hair.

 

“Sorry. I’ll clear this away.”

 

A razor hummed. 00128 shaved a small square away large enough for a cranial excavation. The Dr stared upwards towards the studious smile of his former patient.

 

There was no quick release. The drill raided skin, toughened bone and raped the erudite thoughts of the healer.  

 

“Are you feeling better? You should feel the air rushing inside your head, helping you relax.”

 

The Doctor struggled to listen. His brain exploded with unbearable pain and the certainty of demise.

 

“You still seem to be in discomfort. I’ll help you with that.”

 

Again, the drill whirred to fatal life. The machine descended. The Doctor’s vision blurred when 00128 explored the optic nerves. No longer able to see, he felt the inevitable closure of existence.  

 

“You’ve gone awfully quiet. Are you ok?”

 

Dr Cooper responded with silence. 00128 examined a dead trail of spittle from a murdered medic.

 

“I think the pain in your head has stopped.”

 

James edged away from the butchering. He marched to the stairwell. He tasted fresh air. 00128 straightened a stolen white coat and winced from the tightness of his new shoes. He flashed a name tag towards an overworked security guard and kept walking. He penetrated the outside and relief swept over him with his completed treatment. 00128 unlocked the door to Dr Cooper’s Mercedes and turned on the ignition and drove away certain he wouldn’t precede 00129.

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