Chapter 24: Not Important
Jethro brushed past the masked man and carefully took the gloves from the nurse’s hands.
They were worse than he feared: there was barely anything left of it; the leather was burnt and brittle, skeletal outlines of the stitching jutting outside. The repulsors fizzed and sparked, and with fingers damaged, there were no sensors to activate the beams.
Still, Jethro put them on. The damaged leather snagged, his fingers protruded awkwardly from the burnt holes, and his palms were exposed through scorched patches. They felt fragile, alien, yet he felt better once they were on.
Like he’d gotten a warm hug from home.
The masked man watched him curiously until Jethro finished. Then he asked, "May we proceed?"
Jethro looked back at him, his earlier defiance banked but not extinguished. "Lead the way, sir."
He waited for the man to walk past him, then fell into step behind his huge figure as they exited the health post together. Once they were outside, Jethro did a quick scan of his surroundings.
It was clearly the hallway of a high-ranking facility. He could tell from the slick floor that pulsed briefly each time a foot stepped on it. Boots that belonged to the numerous Beastcorp officials roaming about.
Nurses, Troopers, and random workers daddled here and there, going about their duties. Some looked at his direction, noticing him before speaking to one another in whispers. Jethro averted his gaze and quickened his steps, seeing he was lagging behind the masked man.
He caught glimpses of rooms they passed. He saw other patients in clinic beds, mechbeasts inside cybernetic chambers, professors experimenting on vials of aether and mechanical devices.
In some rooms, some patients argued with nurses, professors and their apprentices hurried to pull mechbeasts out of contraptions after failed experiments. In one particular room, he had seen someone grow a third arm as he yelled in pain. The scientist inside, catching Jethro’s stare, walked to the door and snapped the privacy screen closed.