Day 54: Recreational Field

[martyrs]

Well, that was the most exhausting lunch Elena had ever experienced. And she didn't get around to eating very much either. Her headache was a least somewhat bearable now, but as the shift ended, she realized how stupid it had been to not get something in her system before the shift ended. But that apparently wasn't in the cards. In fact, just as she stopped panicking long enough to try and get some food down, her nurse was sweeping to her side.

"Shift change, m'dear." Like she hadn't noticed everyone getting up out of their seats and leaving the cafeteria. "I'll take your tray for you, and you make sure to get out to the field on time."

"On time?" Her blank expression must have given away more than she realized, because the nurse was giving her yet another sympathetic look.

"You slept thought a lot this morning, I'm afraid. I'll explain along the way."

By the time they had reached the Rec Field, the nurse had explained most of what had happened with the food fight, and the tear gas, and it only served to damage her calm yet again that day. Of course she slept through something like this, and of course the boys and girls were split up this shift, and of course Elena would have to wait around for some uniformed man to call out her fake name before she could get to Stefan.

At least her last name was near the stop of the list.

"Bailey, Samantha-"

"Here! I'm here. Can I go back inside now? Please?"

Though she didn't even wait for an answer before turning back and heading for the building. As far as she was concerned, she did what she was told, and there was no good reason why she couldn't make her way to the Sun Room right this very second.

[to here]

Comments

[fourstonewalls]

So that was the infamous IRIS. An automated intercom system. That was anticlimactic, after the bits and pieces she'd heard. Clearly, there was more to the story. Time to find someone who'd been here a little longer.

She declined the nurses harried offer to get her coat; she didn't plan on staying on the field longer than necessary. Still, she was shivering when it was over; while she might not have come from an L.A. summer, winter chills were less common than 70-and-sunny in December. She wrapped her arms around her body and tried not to shiver.

Technology here was a mass of contradictions. One step forward and two back, in the most unlikely places, even setting aside the inexplicable. Automated intercom systems that did a remarkably good job. A video store that was wall-to-wall DVDs, in what was ostensibly 2008, but the video games were years older. Like a bad alibi, the closer you looked, the more glaring the inconsistencies became.

Precisely. A bad alibi, or a Global Studios made-for-TV special with more emphasis on the hero's rugged good looks than on why a samurai would be wearing sneakers on the long shots. The things she watches, honestly. It was a cheap imitation of reality, put together by a madman with an agenda. Book copyrights were easy; someone had stopped too soon. Or gotten too greedy, picking a crackerjack team of eyes to run through his little scenario.

Lana dutifully stepped forward when they called out for Shirley Franklin, just after Franklin, Rosalind. The roll call, as much of a hassle as it was, wasn't something she'd mind making a permanent appearance; she could double-check on Ema without doors slamming, or worse, the uncertainty of not knowing where she was.

[to here]