The screaming woman — the one he’d dragged in, pulling her by her hair — is still stumbling. Trying to steady herself. Trying to stay on her feet. He keeps pulling her almost off balance, the sharp tack from her heels as she staggers to stay upright keeps clipping through her screams.
“You fucking useless prick. What am I meant to do with this? Fuck!” He shoved her towards me as he swore. I saw her eyes silently pleading for help as I half caught her; set her on her feet; let go and saw my handiwork properly.
“You ruined the entire batch, you Useless. Fucking. Asshole.” He paced around for a moment, picked up some PCR tubes and twirled them in his fingers, before throwing them at me. “I thought you were meant to be some kinda genius?”
What was the point in her pleading with me? What could I do for her? What the fuck could I do for me? There were guards everywhere. Keycards on the patient rooms. On the labs. On the exit doors. I suddenly clicked that my ability to leave was only as good as Oaklen’s mercurial opinion.
“What good is it to me if they’re just girls? Huh?” He spoke slowly, each word emphasized. “What Fucking Good Is This?!” He moved quickly, grabbed her hair and threw her at me again. “Christ, I can grab any number of girls off the street.”
He shoved me backwards then. Pushed her out the way first. She stumbled again, almost fell. Grabbed a stool to stay upright then tried to run. Made it to the exit door. For a moment I thought she might escape. Her face as the door swung open, the lights from the parking lot reflected in the glass behind her. The whole scene etched in my memory. Red glowing sign, blonde pixie cut tangled. The wail of the alarm sounding after the door opened. But some guard was right there, just outside, waiting. Grabbed her, pulled her through the lab and back, screaming, into the hall. She kept pleading, repeating her… No, Erika, be honest. He kept repeating his name over and over again. Begging to be released. As …his voice faded Oaklen turned back to me.
My turn.
Staggering backwards with each hit.
My shoulder hits the fume hood and now I struggle to stay upright. “You fucked it up. You think they come to my parties to fuck girls? You think I get to remind a senator just what he did if it’s just some little bitch? No.”
Another shove, my foot catches on a stool and I slam into the bench. Swinging my arm to grab on, desperate to stay upright, knocking a one hundred and fifty thousand dollar Zeiss microscope onto the floor. Watched it crack right across the fucking logo. He looked at me with even more disgust.
“That’s coming out of your wages you useless piece of shit. Tomorrow you fix this. I want a vaccine too. Don’t want anyone ‘accidentally’ catching this.” He stopped at the exit door, watched me wiping the blood from my face.
“I’ll get someone to check your work, I think. Or maybe I’ll just find a different use for you.”