CELL

/ FOURTEEN /

Ryan opened his eyes and blinked in the unexpected blaze of light, shielding his face with his arm.

After a few seconds, he lowered it and turned his head. He choked back his shock, realising it wasn't Clara returned. It was Dr Fiona Bradley.

Could he have imagined ever being so thankful to see her?

"Hello... erm..." Dr Bradley checked the tablet in her hand. "Ah, Ryan. How are we today?"

We? Why did people ask how 'we' were when they meant to ask how 'you' were? They knew how they were and, in this case, definitely, Ryan couldn't give a shit about her. He was pleased to see his jailor, but he had no interest in her wellness.

"Fine," he said.

He noticed his voice was shaking and tried to gulp the tremble back down. His mouth was dry, though not from thirst.

"You don't sound it," she said. "In fact, I'd go as far as to say you sound afraid. Is that for little old me?"

Ryan shook his head. He didn't trust his voice to not vibrate in time with his fast-beating heart.

"Good. You really don't need to fear me. I'm a pussycat!"

Or Little Red Riding Hood's pseudo-grandma, oh, such big eyes, ears and claws.

"OK."

"Good, good. That's what I like to see. Trust. We need trust in each other, don't we Ryan?"

Trust was a dish served with a warm spoon in cold times. Not one coated in poison. He didn't trust her and was surprised that she thought he might. No, he could see the glint in her eyes. She was playing with him. There was no trust on either side. She was testing his reaction, so he wouldn't give one.

He shrugged.

"Excellent. I'm pleased we've confirmed that."

There was a knock at the door and Pedra entered. She stood next to the doctor in silence and touched the edge of her tablet to Bradley's, making a swiping motion with her finger on the screen.

"Thank you Peddy. Good work."

Pedra nodded and smiled briefly. Her eyes were reddened and her cheeks were flushed slightly, as if she'd been crying.

"Are we OK now, Peddy?"

Pedra nodded, still saying nothing. She reached the door and took the handle, turning it.

"Peddy?"

Pedra turned.

"No more fucking up, OK?"

Pedra nodded again and hurried out, closing the door behind her.

"She's a sweet one, you know Ryan?" Bradley said. "And so good at her job." She sighed. "It's a pity she can be fucking useless sometimes, too."

Ryan doubted the doctor's assistant, if that was her role, was as bad as was made out. Bradley gave the impression of someone with a short fuse, and he alternated between thoughts of trying to ignite it and knowing it wasn't the best idea in the world.

When he didn't say anything, it was Bradley's turn to shrug.

"Well, we're in a talkative mood today, aren't we?"

She laughed and held out the tablet screen for Ryan to see. He had no idea what he was looking at, as it was filled with figures, a three-dimensional revolving image of Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man with various spots on the body flashing in red, and a line graph. He assumed it showed his vital statistics. In the corner, in a bold red italic, stood 'C8' with some redacted text beneath it, then his supposed name. Ryan.