[center][h3]March 14, 2018 - Harvard, Massachusetts.  Bromfield School.[/h3][/center]
[center]47 Degrees.  Rain.  Chance of Thunderstorms.[/center]
[center][IMG]http://i66.tinypic.com/2nsvtxs.jpg[/IMG][/center]


"Where, the fuck are you?!"  Nosering shouted, just as Isaac felt a surging pain and pressure across his cheek.  A feeling that Isaac could only describe as a spontaneous supernova overwhelmed him, with every nerve firing out in explosive pain.  Reflexively, his body drew in a sharp breath and tightened, becoming rapidly aware of gravity's weight upon his chest and shoulders.  The pins and needles sensations that swam through Isaac gave way to a heavy, swollen throb.  With great effort and a groan, Isaac muttered, "[color=goldenrod]Oz…[/color]"

Following Isaac's comment were strings of incomprehensible words or swears.  Isaac attempted to open his eyes and caught a brief glimpse of a blurry science laboratory, dimly lit by a flickering light.  But between the searing flashes and the torrent of explosive gunfire, Isaac struggled to make any coherent sense out of the world around him.  His only choice, for the moment, was to focus on one sense at a time.  He shut his eyes tightly and struggled to make sense out of the voices speaking to him.

"Time to click your fucking heels and make your way back to Kansas, Dorothy."  A familiar voice said.  A firm pressure gripped Isaac's right arm and tugged, pulling him like a rag-doll off of whatever surface was holding him steady.  For a moment that seemed far longer for Isaac than his present company, he lost all sense of weight and gravity, falling into the blackened abyss.  Fortunately, the ground was ready to give him a firm welcome back to reality.

"Clear!" Nosering shouted as Isaac struggled to a kneeling position. 

The hand that was holding Isaac's arm released, giving Isaac room to wake up and regain himself.  "Stan," the voice called out, "look around for the new guy's shit.  Probably in a bag somewhere around here.  I'll keep watch."

One-by-one, Isaac's senses returned.  The swelling in his hands and feet lessened, allowing him to move each digit freely.  His face, which had felt heavy and swollen, loosened and relaxed.  Though the noises and light still pounded at his temples like a jackhammer, he found that he could stand with a little support from the hospital bed that he had been laying on.  As he stood up, Isaac felt a rush of cool air against his back.

"[color=goldenrod]...what the hell did they do to me?[/color]" he muttered.

"Experiments."  The familiar voice said.  Isaac struggled to open his eyes again, trying to determine the source.  He squinted against the flickering emergency light and raised a hand, shielding the glare.  When he focused, he caught the outline of a man wearing a bandanna over his face.  [i]Skullface…[/i]

"Fuckers had us out for days," Nosering hurriedly said as he scrambled across the room, opening and closing cabinets with a heavy slam.  "Took our clothes, pumped us with drugs, asked us a bunch of fucking questions.  Sick fucks."

"Hurry up, Stan!"  Skullface shouted, "Frank's coming back any second and New Guy is standing there with his ass sticking out."

Isaac looked down at the hospital bed, squinting as he studied it.  There were leather belts on the arm-rests and the foot rests.  Next to it, a tray with a variety of syringes, bottles, and examination tools.  Additionally, there was a cellphone propped up with a display of what appeared to be a heart rate.  He patted his chest and arms, searching for any diodes.  Instead, he found a fitness tracker strapped to his wrist.  "[color=goldenrod]Clever.[/color]”

“Found it!” Nosering shouted as he pulled some plastic tubs out from a shelf.  He hurried them over to the hospital bed, laying the tubs opened in front of Isaac.  The contents were definitely Isaac’s clothing and items, cleaned and packaged in air-tight wrap.  Another tub held his rifle, knife, and flare gun.  Isaac’s fingers deftly ripped the packaging apart, letting loose a sterile smell.  “[color=goldenrod]Why did they clean everything?[/color]” Isaac asked as he tore the hospital gown off of himself and put on his clothes.

“Does it matter?”  Skullface said, abruptly.  “Hurry up.  We need to get moving.”

Isaac dressed as quickly as his weakened and drugged body would allow him.  He opened the packaging with a gradually increasing dexterity, scanning the items before equipping them.  However, as he reached the bottom of the bin, he flipped the bins and shook them angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”  Nosering shouted.

Isaac didn’t answer.  His hand desperately scraped the bottom of a bin before throwing it across the room.  He searched the tray with the surgical instruments, searched the floor around the bed, searched his own hands.  Desperately, he stormed up to Nosering and grabbed the collar of his jacket, “[color=goldenrod]Where’s my ring?[/color]”

“Goddamn it, have you gone crazy?”  Skullface barked.

Isaac ignored him.  He looked intensely at Nosering, whose eyes were wide, confused, and slightly dazed.  [i]He just woke up, too.[/i]  Isaac released Nosering and brushed past him, storming to the bed to grab his knife, flare gun, and hunting rifle.

“[color=goldenrod]I need to find him…[/color]”  Isaac muttered as he loaded the rifle.

“Find who?”  Nosering scoffed as he brushed off his jacket and picked up his own rifle.

Isaac glanced around the room.  In the flickering light, he saw Skullface poised with his assault rifle barrel pushed through the door’s shattered window.  He watched Nosering make his way to the door, watching Isaac with a skeptical and puzzled eye.  Behind them, a shadowy figure that Isaac hadn’t the sense to notice before.  A thin man, crouched and whimpering quietly as he shivered.  [i]Sticks…[/i]

[right][color=green]Do you remember me, Isaac?  It’s Doctor Gordon…[/color][/right]

Isaac cocked his rifle and glared angrily at the empty bin.  “[color=goldenrod]I need to find Doctor Gordon…[/color]”