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It was my first day at Children's Hospital. As I went in to get my nano shot, I was wondering if it had already been done. I was barely out of the vaccine line when they threw me into the back of a van; we sped down the freeway headed out of town. The rest of them, I knew, were on other rounds in other vans. We were a group of young, healthy kids, yet they locked us up like we were criminals. Except one of us—the guy in the back—he seemed to be the only one not getting stitches. The other guys in the van were covered in bandages and cracked lips from surgery.
"Uh, guys? I don't mean to be a buzzkill, but we just got out of surgery. The shots should have worn off by now."
No one replied, or even gave anyone else the chance to talk. I glanced at the guy in the back who was not being treated—a tall, athletic, bearded guy, sitting in the bed pressed against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring at the agents around him. He was in his mid-twenties, and his light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail that dragged on the floor behind his back. He looked around the van warily yet confidently.
We arrived at an abandoned warehouse. My intuition told me that this is where they were taking us. We got out of the van one by one and were escorted by several men to a small, dimly lit room. The door closed behind us, and before I could figure out what was happening, the lights came on with a flash. On every wall flashed the logo of Children's Hospital. It was a red cancer shape with a white background.
In the center of the room was a medical gurney. The agents took us to our places and locked us in, holding the locks open for us with plastic, snapping them closed behind us. The next thing I knew, the lights went off. I heard heavy breathing at the far end of the room. I was in the front row, so I looked toward it. The breathing continued and then the sound of sloshing water. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man-sized water balloon popped up and flew high, hitting the ceiling with a heavy slosh. Everyone flinched. Then out stepped the man from the van: the one who the other agents had avoided in the back of the van.
He was one of the most handsome guys I had ever seen. He had a light brown beard, trimmed short but thick and wavy. It was so soft it could have been brushed with a unicorn mane. He had light brown hair, with tight, perfectly arced curls that hung over his forehead; they were so thick that they gave the impression of a fur-lined hood hanging from over his forehead. The luminescence from the white ceiling cast a shine on his wavy hair, which added to his handsomeness. He had the face of a god with three day stubble, light blue eyes, and high cheekbones. He wore a tight, black shirt, and he was strong from his hips to his chest.
He looked around the room and immediately took in the suspicious, nervous, and arrogant expressions on our faces.
"Hi, guys. I'm Doctor Harold."
Suddenly, the nervous expression on all our faces turned into expressions of fright. The one in the back rolled over and sat up straight. The Doctor stood up straight. The other ones sat up straight. Hurried mission to the bathroom, I thought to myself. They were all staring at the Doctor suspiciously. The Doctor pointed to each one of us in turn, and it seemed like he was looking for something. Then he pointed again to the one of us and said, "You."
"Yes, Doctor, I'm her." The pale, scrawny girl answered, standing up from her place on the floor of the van.
"You're the one who's perfectly healthy, and I can't give you the shot."
"Yes, Doctor."
"I can't see your nanos in the scan."
"Yes, Doctor."
"A mission for you, then. You must find the others and get them to do the same. We have to stop the headquarters."
"Yes, Doctor."
The Doctor walked up to the agent in the back, and they spoke in a hushed way. The Doctor scanned the agent's eyes, nose and mouth and then raised a soundless hand to his chin. He stood up straight and pulled out a cell phone. He stepped close to the agent and spoke in a low voice. Then he pointed at the door to the van, and said, "Headquarters, this is Harold," and then he gestured toward the agent he had just pointed at. The agent got up and left. The Doctor turned around to face the room.
"Listen," he said. "I know that you think that I am the enemy. But I want you to know that we are here to help you. We read your minds. We know that you are planning an attack. We know that the President agreed with your plan. We're only trying to stop you."
"Wh-wha-what other one?" The tall guy said.
The Doctor's blue eyes look back at the guy. "Three more, followed shortly by yourself. The rest of the agents are already on their way."
The Doctor walked toward the front row and stuck his hand in the air. "Let's make a deal. We'll let you walk out of here. If you follow the directives and get the others to go through the same process, you'll be free."
The guy in the back glared at the Doctor. "I don't trust you."
"But you can trust him," the Doctor said to the guy in the back. "I'm the doctor. I took care of you. You remember me? You were so scared, and I calmed you down. I hope you know that it wasn't a miracle. I'm the doctor and these are the nanos. Nanos: I took care of you, so I can take care of them."
The Doctor moved closer to the guy. "I know that you are watching me. I can feel you. You must trust me. What would happen if I did something…unusual? What would you do then?"
The guy in the back, the tall, muscular, well-built kid, said, "You already did."
The Doctor's eyes widened. He looked to the tall, tired looking guy in the back. The Doctor flicked his eyes from the tall, tired looking guy in the back back to the Doctor. "What did you do to him?"
"Nothing," the tall guy said.
"I can't cure him without giving him the shot," the Doctor said.
"Well?" the tall guy asked.
The Doctor leaned closer to the guy in the back, looking straight into his eyes. "What would you do to save three people you love?"
The Doctor raised his right arm. His hand was hanging at about waist height. He made a fist with his right hand, and he started to flex his forearm, moving it back and forth, both his hands curled into fists, all the while, his eyes staring at the tall, muscular, well-built guy.