Page 8 of The Restoration Program
“No, you’re sick! You’reevil! Who gave you the right to do something like this?” Nicole shoved at the bed again, dizzy at the thought that it could likely fit in her childhood dollhouse—along withher. She backpedaled into a corner of the sparse container, her breaths quickening. She faltered and clutched her chest. “I c-can’t—I can’t breathe!”
“Take a moment to calm yourself,” Dr. Roberts said, a strain in his voice. “NüPrint bodies are as prone to anxiety as natural ones. Please, have a seat on your bed and focus on your breathing.”
As if she could focus onanythingbesides the sheer enormity of everything around her.
“I-I can’t breathe! What did you do to me? What the fuck did you do?” Nicole shoved her back hard into the corner and sank, wracked with tremors.
“Miss Zhou, if you are incapable of calming yourself, we’ll be forced to sedate you.”
The threat sent her spiraling deeper into the cold clutches of terror. She dropped her face to her knees, head pounding and chest aching more sharply than ever. Her prattling voice was unrecognizable to her ears, tight and terrified like a child’s. “Y-you can’t do that!” she whined. “You did this to me! Change me back, dammit! Where’s Ryan? Y-you told me Ryan was here!”
When she was met with silence, she peeked up in time to see Jenning nod stiffly behind her. One member of Nicole’steamreached into his lab coat and produced a thin tube with an orange cap. A syringe. He strode hurriedly to hand it off to Jenning, whose lips were pursed with concerned resolve.
Nicole lurched to stand, looking around madly for an escape. The only way out of her stage hospital room was forward, but Jenning loomed there, uncapping the needle. Her eyes flicked down to meet Nicole’s. The doctor looked apologetic as she leaned in, outstretching gloved fingers.
“Stop!” Nicole pleaded. The effort of the shriek stabbed her lungs like a cold knife. Self-preservation sent her dodging the monstrous hand, but there was nowhere to run but the other corner.
“It’s for your own health, Miss Zhou,” Jenning said in what she must have thought was a soothing voice. “The connection in this form is still somewhat fragile for the first twelve hours.”
Nicole didn’t have it in her to listen anymore. She cowered into the corner and ducked her head, sobbing. “Please! D-don’t—don’t tou—touch—”
Her arm was snagged with pathetic ease. A scream raked her throat raw, and no matter how she squirmed, her feet merely skittered on the tile. She snapped her head up in time to see the needle pierce her skin. Her shriek dwindled into deep, painful gasps.
Unconsciousness claimed its prize before Jenning finished plunging the syringe.
Nicole’s eyes flew open.
Her limbs were leaden, but the enormous needle that had pierced her arm was gone. She squinted, trying to make sense of how long she’d been out. A line of pale fluorescent lights hung overhead, overpowering any natural source of light in the room.
Still in the hospital, she thought blearily.
For a single moment, she indulged in the idea that her last memory had been an insane nightmare. But as she tried to conjure an explanation for a vision like that, she realized with a sinking heart that the sheets beneath her were too rough and too coarse. The ceiling was too far away. If this was a nightmare, she had yet to wake up from it.
The distant rasp of weight shifting brought Nicole hurtling back to the present. She turned her head, dreading the thought of facing Dr. Jenning and her team of giants. This time, there was only one person in the room.
The sight of him stole her breath.
Ryan’s six-foot frame was hunkered low in a stiff chair beside whatever platform contained her bed. As she reeled to comprehend his impossible size, her harried mind chose to focus on everything else. There were circles under his eyes like he hadn’t had a decent sleep in days. It seemed a miracle he was still awake now, drooping eyes fixed on a flat-screen mounted to the far wall. His clothes and wavy brown hair were rumpled, and he was in desperate need of a shave.
Frankly, he looked like shit, but he was a far more welcome sight than the mad scientists. She would have been content to look at him for hours.
At least, that was how she felt before he looked at her.
The moment she shifted to sit up, his head swiveled in her direction. Nicole froze, her nerves fizzling out as his eyes locked onto her and widened. Ryan shot to his feet. She clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Nicole?” His voice was fragile, yet loud enough to make her flinch.
She swallowed hard and lowered her hand a fraction. “H-hey.”
The single syllable assuaged the uncertainty bundled in his shoulders. He swiftly closed the distance between them, leveling himself with the waist-high platform. His shuddering sigh of relief rattled the air, and before she could protest, his hand barreled in and shot behind her back. Her stomach flipped as he cleanly swept her off her feet and into a fierce embrace.
“You’re really here.” His voice rumbled through her body like a heavy truck passing on the street. “It’s… It’s really you.”
For a single moment, she was too stunned to react, buried in the thick fabric of his shirt. His heartbeat thudded like a drum against her. His overwhelming warmth couldn’t penetrate the cold panic surging through her mind. Her voice finally caught up in the form of a shriek. “No! Let go! Letgo! P-put me down!”
“Nicki…” His voice softened soothingly, but his hold twitched tighter.
Her breath caught. She short-circuited, her heart and instincts at war. The latter won out. She revolted against his grip, kicking and clawing to escape this titan’s smothering hold before he broke her. Although he effortlessly engulfed her entire body in both hands, he flinched at her squirms.
