First Chapter of my first novel... Work in Progress
CHAPTER ONE - Tyler
I couldn’t remember where I was. The fear was thick and black behind my eyelids. The darkness was suffocating the blank spots of my lost memories.
It felt like water was sloshing around in my eardrums putting pressure on my brain. Muffled noise battered me from all angles but I didn’t know what it was.
I couldn’t remember where I was.
“Are you alright, Tyler?” A song-like voice broke through the thick fog tangling in my mind.
There was a hand on my shoulder and the cold, hard floor beneath me. I couldn’t remember why I was laying on a floor. I couldn’t remember who belonged to that voice and touch.
Slowly, a pinkish orange light penetrated through my eyelids and they fluttered. The smell of antiseptic burnt my nostrils triggering my memory.
I had passed out. I always passed out. Every donation.
I was at the Donor Clinic.
“Tyler?” the voice said again. It was clearer this time and still soft and rhythmic.
A low crackly groan came out of my mouth as I tried to answer. The glaring florescent lights of the Blood Donor Clinic made my eyes water as I tried to open them. The back of my head was throbbing.
I raised my hand to block the light and the room came into focus. I remembered the room.
The white walls were lined with white cabinets and stainless steel countertops. Everything blended into an upside down sea of white from my position on the white tiled floor. I could see a nurse crouched next to me, her hand still on my shoulder.
“Doctor Wellbrook, I need you over here.” The nurse spoke looking past me.
“I’m fine.” I croaked and the nurse looked down at me.
Two spirals of long red hair had come loose from her hair tie, framing her young face. She looked about 20, the same age as my sister would have been. At least that was the age I thought she would have been. I couldn’t remember how old she was when she disappeared.
The nurse’s wide green eyes scanned my face. I watched her look at me; the intensity of her gaze was overwhelming. At one point I had to look down and make sure I still had my faded jeans and wrinkled old t-shirt on. I felt like she could see through me and it made me dizzy.
“Really, I’m fine.” I continued to protest.
Her thick red eyebrows were arched in disbelief.
I tried to ease myself up onto my elbows and she pushed me back down with surprising strength. She smiled at me as she continued to search my face with deep concentration. I couldn’t look away. It felt like she was looking for something.
“No, no Tyler. Stay lying down.” She reached into the pocket of her crisp white coat and pulled out a device that was long and flat. It had one big button in the middle and a series of small screens down the one side.
“I need to see your ID chip please.” Her voice had hardened, but only a little. She was back in nurse mode.
I gave her my hand and she turned it over in hers, exposing the skin of my wrist. Barely visible, in the crease where my arm met my hand, there was a tiny scar. Under that scar was my ID chip. That chip was implanted there the day I was born and it contained my entire existence: my past, my money, my records, everything. The chip was even capable of monitoring my body functions.
The nurse placed the device close to my scar and pressed the big silver button with her thumb. She held the device perfectly still as a series of beeps and blue flashes animated each of the small screens. Sitting on her heels she studied what the device was telling her.
I took her distraction as an opportunity to sit up, unnoticed. With my elbows resting on my knees, I cradled my head in my hands. The floor cleaner continued burning my nostrils so I rubbed my nose hard with the palm of my hand. It didn’t help at all.
“So do you always pass out?” the nurse said.
“Every time,” I responded without lifting my head from my hands. I could see strands of yellow sweat soaked hair hanging in front of my forehead.
“Do you pass out at home if you cut yourself or see blood?”
“Nope,” I shook my hands making my head move back and forth, “But I get nauseous. I think it’s the smell. The antiseptic mixed with the sight of the blood or the smell or something. I wish these things weren’t mandatory.”
“You don’t mean that Tyler. These donations help Science. The Core could have never invented cell regeneration without these donations. The Epidemics were cured because of blood donations. Surely you don’t want that again?”
I looked up at her. She had the same stubborn look on her face my sister, Bethany, used to get when she thought I said something stupid. The nurse genuinely believed what she was saying.
“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t around at that time.” I shrugged.
Her green eyes flickered and she quickly looked back down at the device in her hands. It had stopped beeping.
“Well of course, Tyler. None of us were. Surely you’ve learned about it in school.”
I shrugged my shoulders again. My mouth was open to say I didn’t really pay attention to school but then I got distracted as she wrapped her cool fingers around my wrist and pulled it toward her. She placed her two fingers across the skin and I could feel my ID chip dance around, trying to avoid her touch.
“You’re heart rate reading seems off, I’m going to have to do it the old fashioned way.” She smiled at me. Her smile was stunning.
Unlike the chip, I didn’t mind her touch. I could feel the heat of the blood I had left in my body rise up my neck. She was looking at her watch, taking my pulse, the two loose curls still hanging free against her face. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
I scanned the smooth, pale skin of her face. Her long eyelashes blocked her eyes as she focused on her digital watch. The curve of her nose was perfect, gently pointed up at the tip. Her thick lips were moving slightly as she counted my heartbeat.
She looked at me suddenly, catching me staring. Her hand was still on my wrist and I felt my heart speed up.
“Looks like your heart rate is fine, Tyler.” She smiled knowingly at me. The blood rose further into my cheeks.
“Oh, Becki,” a low deep voice came from behind me making us both turn. Doctor Wellbrook was moving toward us, weaving through the rows of white donation chairs. He walked with a slight strut, his lips turned up into the same amused smile he wore each time he was called to pick me up. His black hair hung around his face and his dark eyes sparkled. He always looked like he had a secret, like he knew something no one else did. It was in the way he spoke. It was in his smug smile and the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he frowned.
“Tyler should always be laying down during donation. We use the restraint beds.” He was looking at Becki with the crinkled frown, his dark eyes pierced through her. I could even feel it.
Becki stood quickly and took a step back out of my line of vision. The Doctor looked down at me still sitting on the floor, his smile widened as he extended a strong hand to me. He really did look too young to be a doctor, but PharmaCore had some crazy potions to curb aging. My mother had about ten different bottles that smelled like a concoction of straight chemicals.
I took the doctors hand and let him pull me up. The blood rushed from my head making little stars pop behind my eyes.
“I am sorry Doctor. He told me that he faints but I didn’t realize it was this bad.” Becki spoke to the doctor for the first time. Her voice was clear and calm but she didn’t look him directly in the face.
Dr. Wellbrook didn’t say anything. He lifted half of his mouth in a smile and watched her for a moment. It creeped me out.
“Did he hit his head?” Wellbrook finally said.
Becki took another small step back.
Wellbrook did have a definite presence. I could see Becki being intimidated by him. He intimidated me and he’d been my doctor for as long as I could remember, minus the part where I lost my memory. The last three years were hazy.
“Not hard Doctor, he just sort of made this gagging noise and slid out of the chair. I managed to get my hand under his head before it hit the floor.” Her lip twitched as she said it and heat started to creep back into my face.
Wellbrook seemed satisfied with her answer and turned back to me, extending his hand again. I gave him my arm and rolled up the sleeve of my shirt, waiting for the shot he usually gave me to stop the queasiness.
He didn’t pull out the usual needle with the long steel spike I could never look directly at because it made me nauseous all on it’s own. Instead he produced a small silver tube that resembled a pen. When he pressed the black button on the side, an intricate series of red lines appeared on my wrist. It beeped loudly as it picked up my ID chip.
“Are you still forgetting where you are when you come to?” He still held my wrist in his long thin fingers and it made me uncomfortable.
“Yeah, it comes back quicker every time though. I think it’s the smell in here.”
“Sense memories are a powerful thing,” He patted my wrist and dropped my hand, his thick eyebrows furrowed, “You puzzle me, Mr. Adams. Make sure you see me personally at your next donation. November is it?”
He turned and walked away before I could open my mouth to speak. I looked over at Becki, who shrugged and placed an arm around my shoulder.
She smelled like soap and flowers. The clean smell of petals and earth made my stomach turn. I didn’t like the smell of flowers anymore. They reminded me of Bethany.
I shrugged Becki’s arm off my shoulder gently.
“I am really alright” I stepped away from her and wobbled slightly. I was breathing through my mouth now, trying to get rid of all the scents. I steadied myself by sliding my hand against the long white walls that lead to the front lobby.
At the front desk, Becki pulled out a tube full of dark red-brown liquid from her white coat pocket.
My stomach jumped and a cold sweat washed over me. Noticing my reaction, Becki wrapped her long fingers around the small tube, concealing the blood from me.
I thanked her with a smile as I passed my wrist in front of the small black box on the counter. The tiny red lasers scanned people in and out of the Clinic, recording each person’s visit and whether they made it within the mandatory three months. The penalties for missing a donation were severe; one of the harshest laws the Core ever passed. That’s what Beth had told me years before, when I threatened to not go anymore.
CHAPTER ONE - Tyler
I couldn’t remember where I was. The fear was thick and black behind my eyelids. The darkness was suffocating the blank spots of my lost memories.
It felt like water was sloshing around in my eardrums putting pressure on my brain. Muffled noise battered me from all angles but I didn’t know what it was.
I couldn’t remember where I was.
“Are you alright, Tyler?” A song-like voice broke through the thick fog tangling in my mind.
There was a hand on my shoulder and the cold, hard floor beneath me. I couldn’t remember why I was laying on a floor. I couldn’t remember who belonged to that voice and touch.
Slowly, a pinkish orange light penetrated through my eyelids and they fluttered. The smell of antiseptic burnt my nostrils triggering my memory.
I had passed out. I always passed out. Every donation.
I was at the Donor Clinic.
“Tyler?” the voice said again. It was clearer this time and still soft and rhythmic.
A low crackly groan came out of my mouth as I tried to answer. The glaring florescent lights of the Blood Donor Clinic made my eyes water as I tried to open them. The back of my head was throbbing.
I raised my hand to block the light and the room came into focus. I remembered the room.
The white walls were lined with white cabinets and stainless steel countertops. Everything blended into an upside down sea of white from my position on the white tiled floor. I could see a nurse crouched next to me, her hand still on my shoulder.
“Doctor Wellbrook, I need you over here.” The nurse spoke looking past me.
“I’m fine.” I croaked and the nurse looked down at me.
Two spirals of long red hair had come loose from her hair tie, framing her young face. She looked about 20, the same age as my sister would have been. At least that was the age I thought she would have been. I couldn’t remember how old she was when she disappeared.
The nurse’s wide green eyes scanned my face. I watched her look at me; the intensity of her gaze was overwhelming. At one point I had to look down and make sure I still had my faded jeans and wrinkled old t-shirt on. I felt like she could see through me and it made me dizzy.
“Really, I’m fine.” I continued to protest.
Her thick red eyebrows were arched in disbelief.
I tried to ease myself up onto my elbows and she pushed me back down with surprising strength. She smiled at me as she continued to search my face with deep concentration. I couldn’t look away. It felt like she was looking for something.
“No, no Tyler. Stay lying down.” She reached into the pocket of her crisp white coat and pulled out a device that was long and flat. It had one big button in the middle and a series of small screens down the one side.
“I need to see your ID chip please.” Her voice had hardened, but only a little. She was back in nurse mode.
I gave her my hand and she turned it over in hers, exposing the skin of my wrist. Barely visible, in the crease where my arm met my hand, there was a tiny scar. Under that scar was my ID chip. That chip was implanted there the day I was born and it contained my entire existence: my past, my money, my records, everything. The chip was even capable of monitoring my body functions.
The nurse placed the device close to my scar and pressed the big silver button with her thumb. She held the device perfectly still as a series of beeps and blue flashes animated each of the small screens. Sitting on her heels she studied what the device was telling her.
I took her distraction as an opportunity to sit up, unnoticed. With my elbows resting on my knees, I cradled my head in my hands. The floor cleaner continued burning my nostrils so I rubbed my nose hard with the palm of my hand. It didn’t help at all.
“So do you always pass out?” the nurse said.
“Every time,” I responded without lifting my head from my hands. I could see strands of yellow sweat soaked hair hanging in front of my forehead.
“Do you pass out at home if you cut yourself or see blood?”
“Nope,” I shook my hands making my head move back and forth, “But I get nauseous. I think it’s the smell. The antiseptic mixed with the sight of the blood or the smell or something. I wish these things weren’t mandatory.”
“You don’t mean that Tyler. These donations help Science. The Core could have never invented cell regeneration without these donations. The Epidemics were cured because of blood donations. Surely you don’t want that again?”
I looked up at her. She had the same stubborn look on her face my sister, Bethany, used to get when she thought I said something stupid. The nurse genuinely believed what she was saying.
“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t around at that time.” I shrugged.
Her green eyes flickered and she quickly looked back down at the device in her hands. It had stopped beeping.
“Well of course, Tyler. None of us were. Surely you’ve learned about it in school.”
I shrugged my shoulders again. My mouth was open to say I didn’t really pay attention to school but then I got distracted as she wrapped her cool fingers around my wrist and pulled it toward her. She placed her two fingers across the skin and I could feel my ID chip dance around, trying to avoid her touch.
“You’re heart rate reading seems off, I’m going to have to do it the old fashioned way.” She smiled at me. Her smile was stunning.
Unlike the chip, I didn’t mind her touch. I could feel the heat of the blood I had left in my body rise up my neck. She was looking at her watch, taking my pulse, the two loose curls still hanging free against her face. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
I scanned the smooth, pale skin of her face. Her long eyelashes blocked her eyes as she focused on her digital watch. The curve of her nose was perfect, gently pointed up at the tip. Her thick lips were moving slightly as she counted my heartbeat.
She looked at me suddenly, catching me staring. Her hand was still on my wrist and I felt my heart speed up.
“Looks like your heart rate is fine, Tyler.” She smiled knowingly at me. The blood rose further into my cheeks.
“Oh, Becki,” a low deep voice came from behind me making us both turn. Doctor Wellbrook was moving toward us, weaving through the rows of white donation chairs. He walked with a slight strut, his lips turned up into the same amused smile he wore each time he was called to pick me up. His black hair hung around his face and his dark eyes sparkled. He always looked like he had a secret, like he knew something no one else did. It was in the way he spoke. It was in his smug smile and the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he frowned.
“Tyler should always be laying down during donation. We use the restraint beds.” He was looking at Becki with the crinkled frown, his dark eyes pierced through her. I could even feel it.
Becki stood quickly and took a step back out of my line of vision. The Doctor looked down at me still sitting on the floor, his smile widened as he extended a strong hand to me. He really did look too young to be a doctor, but PharmaCore had some crazy potions to curb aging. My mother had about ten different bottles that smelled like a concoction of straight chemicals.
I took the doctors hand and let him pull me up. The blood rushed from my head making little stars pop behind my eyes.
“I am sorry Doctor. He told me that he faints but I didn’t realize it was this bad.” Becki spoke to the doctor for the first time. Her voice was clear and calm but she didn’t look him directly in the face.
Dr. Wellbrook didn’t say anything. He lifted half of his mouth in a smile and watched her for a moment. It creeped me out.
“Did he hit his head?” Wellbrook finally said.
Becki took another small step back.
Wellbrook did have a definite presence. I could see Becki being intimidated by him. He intimidated me and he’d been my doctor for as long as I could remember, minus the part where I lost my memory. The last three years were hazy.
“Not hard Doctor, he just sort of made this gagging noise and slid out of the chair. I managed to get my hand under his head before it hit the floor.” Her lip twitched as she said it and heat started to creep back into my face.
Wellbrook seemed satisfied with her answer and turned back to me, extending his hand again. I gave him my arm and rolled up the sleeve of my shirt, waiting for the shot he usually gave me to stop the queasiness.
He didn’t pull out the usual needle with the long steel spike I could never look directly at because it made me nauseous all on it’s own. Instead he produced a small silver tube that resembled a pen. When he pressed the black button on the side, an intricate series of red lines appeared on my wrist. It beeped loudly as it picked up my ID chip.
“Are you still forgetting where you are when you come to?” He still held my wrist in his long thin fingers and it made me uncomfortable.
“Yeah, it comes back quicker every time though. I think it’s the smell in here.”
“Sense memories are a powerful thing,” He patted my wrist and dropped my hand, his thick eyebrows furrowed, “You puzzle me, Mr. Adams. Make sure you see me personally at your next donation. November is it?”
He turned and walked away before I could open my mouth to speak. I looked over at Becki, who shrugged and placed an arm around my shoulder.
She smelled like soap and flowers. The clean smell of petals and earth made my stomach turn. I didn’t like the smell of flowers anymore. They reminded me of Bethany.
I shrugged Becki’s arm off my shoulder gently.
“I am really alright” I stepped away from her and wobbled slightly. I was breathing through my mouth now, trying to get rid of all the scents. I steadied myself by sliding my hand against the long white walls that lead to the front lobby.
At the front desk, Becki pulled out a tube full of dark red-brown liquid from her white coat pocket.
My stomach jumped and a cold sweat washed over me. Noticing my reaction, Becki wrapped her long fingers around the small tube, concealing the blood from me.
I thanked her with a smile as I passed my wrist in front of the small black box on the counter. The tiny red lasers scanned people in and out of the Clinic, recording each person’s visit and whether they made it within the mandatory three months. The penalties for missing a donation were severe; one of the harshest laws the Core ever passed. That’s what Beth had told me years before, when I threatened to not go anymore.
Read the rest of Ch 1 and Ch 2 http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/6...