Until the Quiet Comes

Fluorescent bulbs are a particular sound. There’s a low frequency static and then the pop of energy expelling into light. Well before he opened his eyes, Erik listened to the sound of the lights he knew were directly above him and readied himself for the flood of brightness he knew was coming.

This is not heaven or hell, he mused as his eyes rolled open. It was a lab, a starkly clean one with the bass of music heavy in the air. Though they were not tight, he could feel the coolness of cuffs against his wrists and ankles. Whatever he lay on was cottony and soft. He felt like he was floating. Piercing their way through the music, the distinctive blips and beeps of medical equipment found his ears. He imagined somewhere behind his head was a monitor running a script of his heart rate and other vital signs. This was far from his first time in a hospital, but this felt different. From his limited range of vision, Erik could see no natural light. This room, wherever it may be, was secured underground. He was almost certain of it.

His tongue felt thick, like it hadn’t been used in days. Despite the softness of the fabric beneath his back, he ached. It was the familiar burn of bruises earned during hand to hand combat mixed with a piercing pain he couldn’t pinpoint. When he breathed too deeply, the air caught in his chest and he winched. The pain let him know he was not dreaming. He closed his eyes, racking his brain to remember exactly where he’d been and what he’d done to earn this spot strapped to a hospital bed. His mind was blank.

He’d almost missed it, but somewhere across the room he heard the rustle of paper, like the page of a book being turned. Erik craned his neck as far as he could but did nothing more than pull the muscles. He stilled and listened. Another page turn hit the air softly.

He cleared his throat and nearly choked on the dryness. The music ceased.

The smell of lavender greeted him before the voice. “I am glad to see you’ve awaken. I’d worried that it would take a few more days.”

He couldn’t see her, but her voice was soothing and not in the practiced way he’d heard doctors and nurses use with families of the deceased. She sounded sincere.

“Where am I?”

It was the expected question, but Erik truly had no idea where he was. He didn’t know if he should be angry, frightened, or calm. He was at a disadvantage. Something about that didn’t sit right with him. When she was slow to answer, he could sense the hesitation.

“Please.”

The word felt odd in his mouth.

“You are being treated for your injuries at a secure location. Where is not important at the moment. Just know you are receiving some of the best care in the world.”

Her answer was purposely vague and Erik couldn’t help but to feel that he wouldn’t be privy to the location anytime soon. For the moment, he couldn’t sense any immediate threat to his safety. Considering the fact he was the one cuffed to a bed, she may have been the one who needed to worry about him.

“Now that you’re up, I’ll get you something to eat and drink. No need for the IV feed any longer.”

He listened to her steps retreating and then a beep and the automated whoosh of a door sliding open. In the brief moment before the door closed, he heard nothing. No voices. No sounds of life outside of the door. His confusion deepened.

Not too long after he steadied his breathing, the door once again slid open and her footsteps entered the room. Again, no sound entered behind her. With a small hitch, the surface on which he lay pitched forward and he found himself in a standing position.

“I’m going to release your hands. I’d like to think you are capable of feeding yourself. However, please don’t make me use the tools at my disposal to restrain you. Understood?”

“Yes.”

Although her words had been quiet, they’d been full of confidence. He wasn’t willing to test her until he was more secure in his surroundings. He was surprised when the cuffs at his wrists opened without a set of keys or her coming into view. While marveling at this, another thin strap of the same metal closed around his midsection. She wasn’t taking a chance.

And then there she was. Hair pushed away from her face and a pair of large glasses perched on her nose. Clad in not a lab coat, but an expertly tailored jumper, the white gleamed against her skin. She was tall, even in the golden flats she wore. Balanced on the forearm and hand of one arm was a tray of food that made his stomach lurch. He was starving.

“I’ll get you set up and you can have at it. If you need more, please let me know.”

She positioned a waist height tray at the front of his body and placed the now unwrapped plates on the surface.

“I’m Omi. I’ll be just over there.”

She pointed to a desk across the room. It was neatly kept, but he could make out piles of charts, books, and paperwork in labeled trays. His assumption about being underground had been incorrect. She’d simply had the shades drawn.

“Thank you.”

It was all he could muster before he consumed the meal of grilled chicken and vegetables chased with an overflowing cup of diced tropical fruits and tall glasses of passion fruit juice and water. When he chased the last bite with a final drag of liquid, he leaned back against the bed fully sated.

“Satisfied?” She’d appeared in front of him with a clipboard in hand.

He nodded.

She peered over her glasses at him. “Good. Erik, tell me what you remember.”

“Nothing.” It was the absolute truth.

“Excellent. Now we can begin.”