Read Chimera (Parasitology) for Free Online Page A

woke up, it was to a hose pointed straight at my face, dousing me in lukewarm water. My scalp felt like it was on fire. As I sputtered and squinted and tried to move away, I realized there was someone holding my hair. They were holding me
up
by my hair. My hands were cuffed behind my back again, my clothes were gone, and the rough floor of the room around me dug into my knees, hard and sharp and painful. I screamed, or tried to; the water flowed into my mouth, reducing the sound to a pained gurgle.
    “Stop the water!” shouted a female voice. Blessedly, someone listened: The water stopped.
    I spat out as much water as I could before I took a shaky breath. More water promptly found its way into my lungs. I began to cough, and the hand that was holding my hair let go, dropping me to the wet floor. I couldn’t catch myself with my hands cuffed behind me. I fell face-first onto the rough concrete, still coughing, unable to catch my breath.
    Sounding almost bored, the same female voice spoke again: “Roll her onto her side. If she dies, we’ll catch hell from the Colonel.”
    “Yes, Sarge,” said the man behind me. Hands gripped my shoulder, rolling me onto my side. I kept coughing, but less fiercely now. The hands released my shoulder and thumped me soundly on the back. I retched, water boiling up from the back of my throat and spilling down my chin in a thin, vomitus stream.
    After that, I could breathe, if still not terribly well. My throat was as raw as my knees. My entire body felt loose, like the slightest disturbance could jar me out of it for good. I wasn’t sure what it was about the electric shocks that did that to me, but one thing was for sure: I didn’t want to experience that again.
    I tried to lift my head, to see either the person who was physically abusing me or the owner of the voice commanding it, but the muscles in my neck refused to obey. I was as helpless as a day-old kitten, without the benefit of fur to keep me warm or a loving shelter staff to keep me safe. All I had was this place, this room, and I didn’t feel like either of the people who were in it had my best interests at heart.
    There was a loud sigh. “Larsen, get her on her feet,” commanded the woman. “We can’t take her to the quarantine drop looking like this.”
    “We shouldn’t be taking her to the quarantine drop at all,” said the man. He slid his hands under my arms and hauled me to my feet, leaving my head to loll limply against my chest. He was fully clothed: As he lifted me, I could feel the zips and buckles of his tactical gear against my skin. Why would anyone wear full body armor into a shower with a defenseless girl who could barely move her own head?
    “Your opinion on the subject has been noted, Private,” said the woman.
    I struggled again to lift my head. This time, I managed to shift it just enough to let me see the person who was giving theorders. She was tall, thickly built, and wearing the same tactical gear as the man behind me. She was also scowling at me, an expression of unadulterated loathing on her face.
    “You going to give me an opinion too, kid?” she demanded.
    I didn’t feel up to speaking. I wasn’t sure my mouth would have obeyed me if I’d tried. So I didn’t say anything. I just hung there, helpless in the arms of the man behind me, and wished death upon her with all my parasitic heart.
    “Good,” she said, and stepped closer. “Colonel Mitchell wants you brought to the lab. It’s our responsibility to get you cleaned up and ready for him. But here’s the thing. Some of us? We know what you did. We know who you’ve been working for. We know why you’re his Hail Mary, and we’re not going to tell him not to use you, but we’re not going to help you fuck us over a second time. You got me? You traitorous little whore, you got me?!”
    She was screaming by the end, and I realized, finally, what I’d done to earn myself this kind of treatment: to make them hate me so.
    They