Lone Girl (The Wolfling Saga) (19 page)

“You’ve got to take me to him,” I demanded.

“We cannot let our subjects interact with one another without the appropriate medical attention. We cannot let you see him until you have undergone rigorous testing for sickness or disease.”

I looked at him incredulously. “I’m not some
dog
. You don’t own me.”’

“It’s for our patients safety, Rose,” said Colt. “In the past we’ve had patients infected with rabies, fleas, ticks
and various infectious skin conditions.”

“And all of your patients suffer from … lycanthropy?”

Professor Colt nodded. “Yes. We currently have thirty-eight Lycanthropy residents here at the Silver Moon facility.”

“And they’re all here by choice?”

“Each and every one voluntarily came here,” said Colt, his mouth twitching again. Was it a nervous twitch when he lied? “It’s the most we’ve had since we were established over one hundred years ago.”

I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Come, Miss Goldman. I’d love to give you a tour of our facility. There is a change of clothes in the drawer for you. I’ll wait outside.”

Professor Colt left the room, closing
the door quietly behind him.

I walked over to the chest of drawers, opening the first one. In the top draw was several crisp white pairs of underwear, bras and socks. I pulled one of each out. The next drawer was filled with white t-shirts. The
one below that contained only white trousers. Guessing what the final drawer contained and finding myself correct, I pulled out a pair of white sneakers.

Once I was dressed I felt rather ridiculous in my all-white ensemble.
Never the less, I left my dirty clothes in the white hamper, vaguely wondering how they’d known what my bra size was.

I exited the room to find Professor Colt conversing with a young woman in a long, white lab coat. At the sight of me he dismissed her and she hurried away. I approached him cautiously.
“Who was that?”

“One of our highly trained medical staff,” said Professor Colt with a kind smile. “Let me show you around, Miss Goldman.”

I allowed myself to be steered down a long white hallway, passing many rooms with closed doors. Professor Colt’s shoes clicked across the marble floor and my sneakers squeaked. At the end of the hall was another glass door that required a swipe-pass to enter. Professor Colt pulled his ID card from his breast pocket and held it up to the scanner, which allowed it to open.

On the other side of the glass door things were very different. Numerous doors led to high-tech looking laboratories with enormous machines. Men and women in lab coats bustled about, talking in fast voices.

“              Are they trying to make a cure?” I asked, craning my neck to look into as many of the rooms as I could. So far I hadn’t seen anyone that didn’t look like an employee.

“Uh, almost,” said
Professor Colt,

“
Professor!” A woman with long red hair came running up to Colt. “Professor, we’ve had an outburst in lab seventeen as a result of the newest treatment-”

“For goodness sake, Amy, I told you to
wait
until I was there,” said Colt. He pulled the red-head to the side and muttered in her ear. She nodded and scampered off.

“What was that about?” I demanded.

“Oh nothing, just some spilled beakers,” Professor Colt waved it aside.
“May I show you our amenities? Over here we have a full Olympic sized swimming pool.”

Professor Colt showed me through some large double doors to a huge, but completely empty, swimming pool. The water was perfectly still, like a sheet of glass.

“Does no one use it?” I asked.

Colt chuckled. “It’s very busy in the early mornings when we have our exercise drills.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

Moving on, Professor Colt showed me the canteen, the games-room, library
and gym. One thing was peculiar, however. I hadn’t seen a single ‘patient’.

“Where are all the werewolves?” I asked as I was shown one of the laboratories. It was exceptionally uninteresting. A few men and women stood around computers and magnifying glasses, muttering to each other.

Professor Colt gave a nervous cough. “The grounds are very large, Rose. This facility spans over one hundred acres of land. You’ve seen only a fraction of our facility here. There are countless rooms beyond these walls and our patients are free to roam as they like. However, as you have not yet undergone our mandatory health procedures we cannot let you see any of our patients.”

There was something about the way that he spoke I didn’t t
rust; something not quite right.

“Come, Rose. Why don’t we step into my office to discuss your choices
?” Colt smiled kindly and I nodded, following him to a handsome office. He offered me a seat, a glass of water and some crackers, which I devoured. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.

Colt took off his spectacles and smiled at me from behind his desk.

“Now, there are many things to consider when choosing somewhere to live, Miss Goldman. You must think of the Silver Moon Facility as a home, where you will learn, make friends, work and enjoy various recreational activities. We can offer you the best
free
medical attention you could hope for. Any illness, any injury and we will take care of it, no questions asked. There is around the clock psychiatric help to assist our patients with any emotional challenges they may face as a result of their condition. You’ve already seem some of our facilities, but that’s only the start of what we offer here.”

“It sounds like some kind of retirement home,” I said, leaning back in the chair and watching Colt carefully for his nervous twitch.

Colt chuckled. “We do not spoon feed our patients baby-food, Miss Goldman. This is a safe-house for people like you; a safe environment for all those afflicted with Lycanthropy; a place where you can transform safely without fear of injuring others.”

“And you offer all of this … for free … to people with Lycanthropy?”

Professor Colt nodded. “All we ask is one small favor in return; your full co-operation to help us try and cure this affliction. And if not cure it, then control it. Isn’t that what you’d like; to remain yourself during the full moon?”

I did not respond immediately. Of course it’s what I wanted. It’s what anyone would want.

“What do you mean by
full co-operation
?” I asked.

Colt took a deep breath. “As you saw we are running several laboratories at the moment. All we’d need from you is the occasional blood sample before the full moon. Nothing drastic.”

I nodded slowly, licking my lips. What were my choices? On the one hand I could live a life of solitude; hiding from the law and dreading each full moon for the rest of my existence. On the other hand I could call this facility home and I’d have everything I needed within reach. No running, no hiding and no judgement. I’d be with others of my own kind.

“Where do I sign?”

“Once you’ve read over these documents and signed the ones marked in red then you will have full access to the facility,” said Colt. “You will be able to see your lover and live worry-free. Please, take your time in reading it and let me know if you have any questions.”

“There’s almost fifty pages here,” I said,
flipping through the document labelled ‘Consent of Treatment’.

“It is extensive, yes, but that is to ensure we do what is best for both parties.”

“Confidentiality and privacy, liability, obligations, blah blah blah,” I flipped through the pages. It all seemed awfully boring, but I knew I’d have to read every single sentence thoroughly.

“Take your time,” Colt encouraged.

I did as he said; I knew it would be in my best interest.

“What’s this part?” I said, pointing to a paragraph. “
If a physician examines the patient and finds that the patient meets at least one of the three criteria the physician may revoke the voluntary admission to the facility and treat the patient as forcibly admitted, otherwise known as a formal patient. One, suffering from a mental disorder.  Two, likely to cause harm to self or others or to suffer substantial mental or physical deterioration or serious physical impairment. Three, unsuitable for admission to a facility other than as a formal patient.
What does that mean?”

Professor Colt smiled politely. “It’s not as serious as it sounds. By definition you are a voluntary patient, meaning you are submitting yourself to our facility willingly. You are also able to leave at any stage. However, if at any time one of our physicians deems you to be mentally ill
and possibly a risk to yourself or others, we must re-evaluate your status and process you as a
formal
patient, meaning that you would not be able to leave the facility.”

“Ever?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“Until you are … better.” He smiled. “But unless you plan on harming yourself, my staff, or other patients, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Right,” I frowned and continued reading.
The document made sense to me – more or less – and there was nothing that caused concern. It stated that I could leave at any time, had full access to the facilities and did not have to take any medication if I chose not to. However, only one more paragraph concerned me; the definition of a ‘formal’ or ‘involuntary’ patient.

“It says here that you can force me to have medicine if I am submitted forcibly. And … medical tests, too.”

“Are you being submitted forcibly?” Colt asked, clasping his hands together.

“No, but-”

“Then it is irrelevant.”

“Oh.”

There were ten different pages I had to sign, which I did, perfectly confident that this was the right decision. I had killed someone after all. If anywhere was safe to transform, it was here.

Once all the documents had been signed by both Professor Colt and I, he led me to a laboratory where I would undergo a physical examination.
He left me there with a female doctor with dark skin and almond eyes called Doctor Phillips.

“Um. What does this
physical examination involve?” I asked as I was handed a white gown.

“
We will test for infection, including sexually transmitted diseases,” she told me, snapping on a pair of white gloves. “Then I’ll take a blood sample, some saliva and some urine.”

“Um, right.”

“Sit over here please, Miss Goldman. Have you ever had a pap-smear before?” she asked.

“No.”

“Are you sexually active?”

“Well … not right now I’m not.” Her questions made me uncomfortable, but I knew they were required.

“But you have been in the past?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. Please put your legs into the stirrups.”

My face flushed scarlet. “Is this – is this really necessary?”

“We cannot admit any patients that do not comply with our strict medical guidelines, Miss Goldman. Please put your legs into the stirrups.”

I did as she asked, feeling embarrassed.

For the next hour I was prodded, poked, swabbed and made to pee into a jar.

Once Doctor
Phillips had performed all of her tests she sent my samples to the laboratory to be tested.

“Is that everything?” I asked, rubbing my arm where the latest needle had been jabbed.

“From me, yes,” she said, writing some notes down. “Next you’ll be interviewed by our psychiatrist to determine your mental health.”

I sighed and nodded.

The psychiatrist, Doctor Kent, was a short, plump man with many rolls under his neck. He wheezed as he fumbled about his office looking for pens and paper. Once the session finally started he sat opposite me, breathing heavily. It was very distracting.

“Welcome, Miss Goldman,” he said, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead. “
I trust Professor Colt ran you through the consent forms?”

I nodded. “He did.”

“So you understand what it is we do here?”

“More or less.”

“Great. Shall we begin? I’ll just ask you a few simple questions to start off with.”

“Sure.” I hoped he wouldn’t probe into my highly unsuccessful affair with Tom, but somehow I doubted that topic would be avoided.

Doctor Kent pulled a notebook out and flipped the pages until he came to a blank page.

“All right Rose … is it all right if I call you Rose?”

“That’s fine.”

“You are eighteen, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“
Did you complete high school?”

“
Uh … No. I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t?”

“It was complicated.”

“
Very well.” He scribbled into his notebook. “Are you employed?”