I am unsure how long it has been since I passed out after the trade. The first time I woke up it was because my hair was tickling my face. I tried to reach for it and made the startling realization of my circumstance. My hands were still bound behind me and I was laying on my stomach. An unpleasant amount of drool had accumulated against my cheek and my hair was matted to my face. I was somewhat thankful no one else was present to see my sorry state. It was a struggle to get myself into a sitting position, but when I finally did I pushed myself against a nearby wall. The room was small and a little light filtered through a series of clerestory windows, but no other light source was present. It was cold and unpleasantly silent. My throat was dry and the dripping water in what I assume was a nearby sink was torturous. The smell of old blood was nauseating, but I could tell my wounds had healed. My arms were sore from the restraints and my head felt strange. I wonder how long they are going to keep me like this.

My mind keeps replaying the final moments before I passed out; gunfire, smoke, and squealing tires haunt me. I need to know if Bren and the others are safe. Slamming my head against the wall I cried out, “shit! I don’t want to die here.”

A rattle behind me caught my attention and I heard footsteps. Before I could turn around I felt someone yank me to my feet. Lance chuckled, pulled me closer and said, “don’t be like that! I know you missed me.” The proximity of his hot breath and voice made me want to vomit as I tried to pull away. I pulled desperately at my restraints trying to break free from his grasp.

“Fuck,” Lance said loudly as he slammed me face first against the wall. My lip busted open and the taste of blood filled my mouth. I thrashed angrily against the wall as he yelled, “stop.” I continued despite his request until he yelled, “stop it! You are bleeding everywhere.”

I felt something wet running down my hands and a slight stinging on my wrist and finally realized why he was yelling at me. He pulled me roughly to what appeared to be a bathroom, I could hear the sound of water dripping louder and my throat ached from an unbearable thirst.

I heard something metallic click behind me and it caused me to jump. Lance squeezed my arm and said, “stay still unless you want my knife in you.” Only a few moments passed and a bloody, plastic zip tie hit the floor.

My arms fell free but I let out a grimace of pain as the stiffness in my shoulders and upper arms became evident. Lance didn’t give me much time to adjust before he grabbed me and pushed me into a standing shower. The cold water was overwhelming and my wrists stung. The shocking sensation sent my body into a series of tremors and I felt dangerously close to losing consciousness.

“Good God, what are you?” Lance’s words danced across my diminishing state of consciousness, pulling me back to reality like an ammonia inhalant. I looked up at Lance, his eyes were huge, a hand covering his mouth. I looked down to where he was staring. A river of bright blood was running down the drain and I followed the trail up to my wrist. I blinked trying to focus and make sense of what I was seeing. I had pulled so much I had caused the zip ties to cut circular gashes into my wrists, but the skin was fusing back together at an alarming rate. I quickly looked back up at Lance, in time to see him running out the door. I heard a commotion and then someone shut and locked the door back.

I leaned my head back, letting the cool water run into my mouth. I reached up and turned the shower off. My body had begun to feel numb from the cold, but I didn’t really care anymore. I had a feeling things were only going to get worse. I laid my head down in the shower and fell asleep.

***

In my half-awake state, I felt my body being moved. I could hear people talking around me, but everything seemed muffled. My wet clothes were being removed but I couldn’t speak or open my eyes. I was laid down onto something soft and it felt like blankets were being placed on top of me. The weight and warmth of the blankets was comforting and I started to relax until I felt a stab in my right arm and something warm flowing up it. The sensation was so strange and uncomfortable that I grabbed at what was in my arm. The adrenaline forced me fully awake and as my eyes adjusted I realized I had pulled out an IV. They must have been administering some sort of fluid into my arm. There were several people around me. One of them was ordering the other men to hold me down. There were too many of them to try to fight so I just gave up. I could hear two men talking and recognized one of the voices as Mr. Creso. My heart beat rapidly in my chest and I felt like a trapped animal. I could hear footsteps as someone approached.

Mr. Creso looked down at me, his eyes were cold and piercing. His fingers ran across my lips and I shook my head violently to avoid his touch. He looked over to the others and said, “the color is coming back his lips, his body is recovering on its on. Do nothing more for him!" He looked back at me and leaned closer, I felt something cold and sharp touch my neck. I swallowed but was too afraid to move or speak. Mr. Creso smiled at me and said, “Liam, I have a lot of plans for you, so I would appreciate it if you would behave. I’m sure you can imagine what will happen if you don’t.” He pressed the knife into my neck and moved it a small amount, slicing it open. I flinched and my eyes began to water. He closed the knife and ran his hand over my neck roughly where I could feel intense pain.

One of the other people spoke, “sir.” He turned aggressively towards the man who spoke and held his hand up, dismissing the words. He reached for a nearby cloth and wiped my blood away from his hand and then my neck.

He turned and looked at the person behind him and said, “he is already healing, fascinating!”

The man behind him stepped forward and said, “sir, he can still feel it.”

Mr. Creso looked back at me and said, “I could care less what he feels.”

The man became noticeably agitated and said, “sir, if his mental state deteriorates it will be harder to get accurate results and data.”

Mr. Creso placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and said, “Dr. Nemeroff, you are to follow my instructions regardless of what you think,” and then he walked away.

The man stood still until Mr. Creso had left the room then he walked over to me. He looked at me and said, “you don’t remember me do you?” I stared back at him very confused and shook my head. The man sighed and pulled up a chair beside me. He lowered his head and said, “I heard that you were severely injured and lost your memories. So, I assumed that you would not remember me. How much do you know about your past?”

I felt sick, I didn’t know if I should tell this person about Fuchsia. Dr. Nemeroff looked at me and said, “I understand, you have no reason to trust me. I will assume you know some about your past, am I correct?”

I nodded yes, hoping to avoid any discussion about Fuchsia.

Dr. Nemeroff said, “I worked with your father at the research laboratory, Eclipse Medical. We were also friends but we had a disagreement about how our research was progressing and funding. I was approached by Mr. Creso who offered a large amount of money for my research as long as I worked for him and helped to convince your father. I tried to convince your father to work for Mr. Creso but he wouldn't listen to me, nor could I convince him to willingly meet with Mr. Creso again. Your father was always so stubborn when it came to his research.

"After my failure to convince your father, Mr. Creso threatened to withdraw funding for my research unless I let him into the lab one night. He said he wanted one more chance to convince Dr. Collins to join him.”

I grabbed Dr. Nemeroff by his lab coat lapels and was filled with rage. “You were his friend, how could you betray him?”

He grabbed my hands and tried to remove them from his lab coat while saying, “you have to believe me, Liam. I had no idea things would go the way they did. I am so sorry!”

I let go of his coat and withdrew to my bed. “I don’t want to be called that name again, Liam died that day, along with Dr. Collins.”

“Liam, if I had known….”

I flew across the bed and hit the doctor in the face, breaking his glasses. Two men came running from the door and pinned me down to the bed. I fought against them and yelled, “let me go.”

One of them dug his knee into my back and yelled, “shut up,” at me. The other man asked the doctor if he was ok and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Dr. Nemeroff stood up quickly and said, “do not bother Mr. Creso. I can handle my patient. Please hold him still and I will be back in a moment.” A couple of minutes passed and when he returned he was carrying a syringe.

I tried to get out of their grasp but I couldn’t budge them. Dr. Nemeroff injected whatever was in the syringe into my arm. A couple of minutes later I started to feel very heavy and tired. I heard Dr. Nemeroff say, “you can release him and leave.”

He waited until the men left then sat back down beside me and said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t have Mr. Creso come back. I don’t know what he would have done to you. Just sleep for now.”