Henry opens his eyes slowly. He feels groggy, and can feel a constant pain from his left arm. He sits up and looks at his arm, but there is nothing to see. He looks around, and is greeted by the the room he had found himself in when he had first woken up. He was getting tired of constantly being knocked out and waking up in new places. The pain in his left arm continues to pulsate, coming in surges. The veins are still a normal color, contrary to those on his right arm. He uses his right arm to feel around on his left forearm. It is sore like a bruise, but the constant pain doesn't seem to be affected by his touch. What had they done to him? Henry knew something had felt off about this place, but now he knew for sure, he had to get out of here, and sooner rather than later. Whatever they were trying to do, it wasn't in his best interest, that much had been made clear by the older man, James. The man seemed to only have one objective in mind, and didn't care what he had to do to accomplish it.
Suddenly the door opens, and Henry quickly gets up from the bed, getting ready to defend himself. His head is still fuzzy, making it hard to think clearly, but he knew, if it came down to a fight, his instincts would kick in. Through the door the two soldiers enter first as usual, followed by Emma. The sight makes Henry relax slightly, but he stays alert. Emma looks at him, and it seems like she can tell that he is being cautious, because she lifts her hands up in front of her as a sign of peace.
"I know this must all seem scary, and i know it isn't perfect, but I'm only here to talk, and, if you'll allow it, i'd like to take a few blood tests". Her words seem genuine, yet the two soldiers, one on either side of her tell a different story. Both have their guns raised, aimed at Henry. Emma notices this too, and continues to talk.
"They don't want to shoot you, trust me. They are just on edge, just like you. You DID toss one of our guys across the room yesterday". Henry looks back at Emma, meeting her eyes. He decides it would be best to hear her out. He wouldn't be able to do anything right now anyway. He sits down on the side of the bed again, and just as he sits down, he realizes what Emma had just said.
"Yesterday? You mean I've been out for a whole day?" As he talks, he rubs his left arm, the pain growing slightly, before quickly fading again. Emma looks at his arm, but doesn't ask about it. Instead she replies to his question.
"That's right, you got a pretty hefty dose of myoblocker", she makes an apologetic smile, but Henry has other worries.
"But that means I've been infected for more than two days!?" Henry almost yells, as he gets halfway up from his sitting position. The soldiers instantly tense up, lifting their guns and aiming them straight at Henry again, fingers on the trigger. Henry stops himself before he gets all the way up, sitting down again, and lowers his voice.
"Why am i not feeling any symptoms then? What the hell did that doctor do? What happened to me during the physical?!" As Henry is talking, he unintentionally raises his voice again, the frustration that had built up during the last couple of days finally seeming to find a way to the surface. The soldiers keep their guns aimed at Henry, but he ignores them, focusing all his attention at Emma. She seems sad, her eyes filled with compassion towards Henry, but he has a hard time trusting it, after what he had experienced.
"Like i said, i know this must all be very confusing and scary, but everything we are doing, is to try and find a cure, a way to turn you back to normal" She sighs, and then continues: "James, the doctor you are referring to, opened up your left arm, to see if there were any changes to the veins, and to try and understand why the blood hasn't turned black yet. So far, our theory is that you've somehow gained the ability to resist the virus, fighting it. This would also explain why you aren't experiencing symptoms within the expected time." She looks at Henry, pausing to see if he had anything he wanted to question or ask about, but when he stays silent, she decides to continue: "We still don't know what happened at the physical exam or why it happened, but at the time, you were displaying symptoms of aggressive behavior towards other people, similar to that of other infected, during the transformation". Henry looks away from Emma, and instead looks at the ground at his feet. His eyes zone out, everything in his vision turning blurry as his mind races, trying to understand everything, trying to make sense of it all.
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"So basically you're saying you have no clue?" The question is posed in a monotone way, Henry feeling burned out, and devoid of emotion. He looks up at Emma again, to find her looking at him with saddened eyes.
"Yes", she replies, and Henry appreciates the honest answer. Henry collects his thoughts. Even if they didn't know for sure, it seemed like positive news. He was somehow able to fight the virus, keeping himself normal, to some extend. If the physical exam had proved anything, it was that something about him is changed. The obvious change seems to be improved physical strength and cardio, but he had also exhibited symptoms of the virus taking control for some reason. Could physical activity be a catalyst somehow?
"Would you be okay with me taking those blood tests?" Emma asks, looking at Henry, trying to figure out what he is thinking. Henry looks at Emma again. He would rather not be part of any more of their experiments, but he doesn't see a world in which refusing to collaborate will be beneficial to him.
"go ahead", Henry answers, and Emma smiles at him. She looks up at one of the guards and he makes his way to the exit, only to return with a table filled with a bunch of medical equipment. There are needles, syringes, a whole bunch of differently colored blood collection tubes, a blood pressure monitor, and many other things. Emma picks a few of the collection tubes and places them next to each other in a holder. She grabs a rubber band, and looks up at Henry. Without hesitation, she walks up to Henry, and sits next to him. She puts a hand up to her face to move her blond hair out of her face, and looks at Henry. From this close he can smell the gentle perfume she is wearing, a smell that he can't quite pinpoint, but it somehow reminds him of a summer evening.
"Okay, could you roll up your sleeve?" Henry nods, and rolls up the sleeve on his left arm. Emma puts the rubber band around his arm at his bicep, tying a knot on it, making sure it sits tight, to restrict the blood flow. She gets up again, and moves the whole table closer to the bed, so she can reach everything on it, and then sits down next to him again. Both the soldiers stand nervously a few meters away, both aiming their guns at Henry, clearly on edge with Emma getting so close to him. Emma takes out a small plastic pack with a disinfected towel in it, and rubs it on Henry's elbow joint, on top of two big veins that have appeared. Since Henry is well trained, his veins have always been prominent, and so Emma has little trouble putting in the needle almost immediately after. She grabs the first collection tube, which has a brown colored lid. She puts it in the other end of a tube that goes to and from the needle in his arm. Blood immediately flows into the collection tube, and she quickly discards the first tube, and replaces it with a different one, this one with a purple color. This one she lets fill up about half way, before placing it back in the holder, and picking up a new one. All in all she fills up seven tubes, before removing the needle, and placing a small ball of cotton and some tape on the place she had entered with the needle, and taking off the rubber band.
"That's all", she says with a smile, looking up from her work at Henry. "Thank you". She sounds genuine, and it helps put Henry at ease, even if only a little. She gets up from the bed, and pushes the table back towards the guards, one of which grab the table and starts moving towards the door.
"You should get some probably get some rest, you look like a mess". She says it with a smile, and for a second, Henry catches himself smiling back. Emma leaves with the guards, leaving Henry alone in the empty and white room once again. He lies down on the bed, bringing his arms up under his head, staring at the ceiling, He realized that it was only two or three days since he had been attacked by a zombie. It felt like he had already been stuck here for a couple of weeks. The pain in his left forearm had faded to nearly nothing, only feeling like a small itch now. Henry wonders what tomorrow will bring. For the first time since the attack, he felt a sliver of hope. Was it really possible that he was somehow immune to the virus, that he could fight it? The thought brings a calming sense that settles on top of his otherwise messy thoughts. He closes his eyes, and is quickly met with a much needed break from everything, as he falls asleep.
