like a human torpedo. I get up on the tray and lie back, staring at the ceiling, while the technician goes in the next room to fire it up.
That sick guy couldn’t have gone in for his scan before me. I wasn’t zoned out for that long. Was I?
The tray shudders into motion, sliding me into the glowing white mouth of the scanner.
As tests go, this one is painless. But it can drive you nuts, to have to keep perfectly motionless for so long with nothing to look at but the roof of the tube. Gets claustrophobic quick if you let it.
The scan starts up with a deep humming sound. I shut my eyes, trying to relax. Which is impossible.
My mind is going a mile a minute, replaying, You’re mine. Don’t make me hurt you .
What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t get—
The scanner’s hum cuts off suddenly into silence.
We done already?
I open my eyes to darkness.
What is this? Power outage? Can’t see a thing. You’d think with all the radiation this monster throws off it would glow in the dark.
I wait for the lights to come back on.
“Hello,” I call out. “Anybody there?”
Nothing. Where’s the panic button?
“Little help,” I try louder. “I’m kind of stuck in here.”
Seconds tick by. Did the tech go on a break or something?
After a minute I decide, Screw it! I’m getting out. I put my hands up to try to push myself back out.
But my fingers hit something cold and damp. It crumbles under my touch, breaking apart and showering down on my face. I swipe it away. What the hell is this?
I press my palms against the walls of the scanner.
They aren’t there. It feels more like—
Earth. My fingertips sink into it. Reaching under me, I discover more dirt.
I’m losing it! This is not happening!
“Hey!” I yell into the blackness.
My voice is deadened, absorbed by these dirt walls.
The roof is so low I can’t sit up, can only move inches in any direction. Contorting my right arm, I stretch it past my head and find empty space. Like I’m in some kind of tunnel.
No! This is not real! I’m in the hospital clinic. Safe.
But my body’s not listening—my heart’s racing, legs shaking, I’m starting to hyperventilate.
Raising my head up till it hits the hard-packed earthabove me, I stare down the length of my body, straining to see.
There! What’s that? I see a little spark of light. Two lights, getting bigger.
I don’t even blink. Don’t want to lose sight of them.
“I’m here!” I call. “Over here!”
I focus on the sparks as they come closer.
“Get me out of—” I start to shout.
But now I make out what those lights are.
Eyes. Shining amber eyes.
And in the glow they cast, I make out a face.
It’s the guy from the waiting room, crawling toward me.
You’re mine .
I feel a stab of panic, like an injection of ice water straight to my heart.
Mine .
No! No! No!
Those eyes are on fire, closing in.
I claw at the dirt surrounding me. Gotta get out. Squirming back. Inch by inch. But the walls are caving in. Earth crashing down. Burying me.
I suck in a breath. Dirt in my mouth.
Something cold clamps around my ankle. I kick out frantically.
Then an icy hand grabs my knee with frozen fingers. Dragging me back.
No—
My eyes fly open. Light! Blinding white light. A stranger’s face looming over me.
“You okay?”
I can’t speak. Struggling for oxygen.
“Calm down,” says the technician with a worried frown. “You fell asleep. That’s all.”
I sit up fast. Too fast. My head pounds with a dizzy rush.
“Take it slow. Some people doze off in there. It happens.”
I’ve got the shakes. Shooting a glance over my shoulder, I see the scanner with its doughnut-hole tube.
No tunnel. No darkness. No eyes.
The tech gives me a reassuring smile.
“Bad dream?” he asks.
“Tell me I’m not crazy.”
“You want me to lie?” Lexi says.
“Be serious.”
We’re sitting in Shipwrecks Cafe. After my bad trip in the scanner, I called Lexi and she skipped her last class
That sick guy couldn’t have gone in for his scan before me. I wasn’t zoned out for that long. Was I?
The tray shudders into motion, sliding me into the glowing white mouth of the scanner.
As tests go, this one is painless. But it can drive you nuts, to have to keep perfectly motionless for so long with nothing to look at but the roof of the tube. Gets claustrophobic quick if you let it.
The scan starts up with a deep humming sound. I shut my eyes, trying to relax. Which is impossible.
My mind is going a mile a minute, replaying, You’re mine. Don’t make me hurt you .
What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t get—
The scanner’s hum cuts off suddenly into silence.
We done already?
I open my eyes to darkness.
What is this? Power outage? Can’t see a thing. You’d think with all the radiation this monster throws off it would glow in the dark.
I wait for the lights to come back on.
“Hello,” I call out. “Anybody there?”
Nothing. Where’s the panic button?
“Little help,” I try louder. “I’m kind of stuck in here.”
Seconds tick by. Did the tech go on a break or something?
After a minute I decide, Screw it! I’m getting out. I put my hands up to try to push myself back out.
But my fingers hit something cold and damp. It crumbles under my touch, breaking apart and showering down on my face. I swipe it away. What the hell is this?
I press my palms against the walls of the scanner.
They aren’t there. It feels more like—
Earth. My fingertips sink into it. Reaching under me, I discover more dirt.
I’m losing it! This is not happening!
“Hey!” I yell into the blackness.
My voice is deadened, absorbed by these dirt walls.
The roof is so low I can’t sit up, can only move inches in any direction. Contorting my right arm, I stretch it past my head and find empty space. Like I’m in some kind of tunnel.
No! This is not real! I’m in the hospital clinic. Safe.
But my body’s not listening—my heart’s racing, legs shaking, I’m starting to hyperventilate.
Raising my head up till it hits the hard-packed earthabove me, I stare down the length of my body, straining to see.
There! What’s that? I see a little spark of light. Two lights, getting bigger.
I don’t even blink. Don’t want to lose sight of them.
“I’m here!” I call. “Over here!”
I focus on the sparks as they come closer.
“Get me out of—” I start to shout.
But now I make out what those lights are.
Eyes. Shining amber eyes.
And in the glow they cast, I make out a face.
It’s the guy from the waiting room, crawling toward me.
You’re mine .
I feel a stab of panic, like an injection of ice water straight to my heart.
Mine .
No! No! No!
Those eyes are on fire, closing in.
I claw at the dirt surrounding me. Gotta get out. Squirming back. Inch by inch. But the walls are caving in. Earth crashing down. Burying me.
I suck in a breath. Dirt in my mouth.
Something cold clamps around my ankle. I kick out frantically.
Then an icy hand grabs my knee with frozen fingers. Dragging me back.
No—
My eyes fly open. Light! Blinding white light. A stranger’s face looming over me.
“You okay?”
I can’t speak. Struggling for oxygen.
“Calm down,” says the technician with a worried frown. “You fell asleep. That’s all.”
I sit up fast. Too fast. My head pounds with a dizzy rush.
“Take it slow. Some people doze off in there. It happens.”
I’ve got the shakes. Shooting a glance over my shoulder, I see the scanner with its doughnut-hole tube.
No tunnel. No darkness. No eyes.
The tech gives me a reassuring smile.
“Bad dream?” he asks.
“Tell me I’m not crazy.”
“You want me to lie?” Lexi says.
“Be serious.”
We’re sitting in Shipwrecks Cafe. After my bad trip in the scanner, I called Lexi and she skipped her last class
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