Page 19 of One Flew Over the Omega's Nest: Part One
I give her my best smile. "Oh, yeah, Addie, I'm peachy-keen. I was just thinkin' 'bout some stuff, that's all. No need to worry your pretty little head about it."
Adela frowns at me as she pushes her glasses up her nose. "What were you thinking about?"
The other girls—all betas—eye me curiously. They haven't been frosty, per-say, but they haven't been exactly warm either. When I asked how they keep control of the betas, because obviously, theydon't have instincts, I was informed that they are given the same injection as the alphas, but nobody could tell me why.
It only took me a second to figure it out.
The betas act as the control. If they start reporting loss of smell, then they know that the alphas loss of smell isn't due to instinct tamping, it's due to something else.
And we're all just lab rats. Maybe I should name Not-Cheddar, Jo two-point-oh.
"There aren't many omegas here, are there?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
They had given me the dirt on most everyone in Thornfield. Turns out, when it comes to confidential information, these ladies' lips are looser than a goose. Apparently, whenever there is a new arrival, someone—though I'm not sure if they're protecting them or if they genuinely don't know who it is—steals a copy of the most incriminating parts of a patient’s file and makes photocopies before hand delivering a copy to each person here like some kind of fucked up, HIPAA-violating postal delivery service.
For all I know, it could be Dr. Brooks, doing some sick psychological experiment on how people are treated based on their perceived crimes.
I say perceived, because I know the only "crime" Adela truly committed was falling in love with someone her daddy didn't approve of.
The brunette next to me—Patty, I think?— shakes her head. "There are…I think two other omegas but they're in the Cathedral. They…" She visibly shivers. "They were scary. Out of their minds. Feral. That's why Doctor Brooks put them there, so they wouldn't be a danger to the rest of us."
My brow furrows. That information does not match what he told me. He said "you'll see."
But…now I have the perfect opening to ask my next question. "Did you ever see 'em in person?"
The girls shake their heads. I frown. "Then how do you know they were feral?"
"We got a whole presentation on it, pictures and everything." Adela says quietly.
There are many reasons an omega might go feral, but Mabel couldn't have been. She was as sweet as sunshine.
Is.Issweet as sunshine. More mild than an April day. Gentler than a summer breeze.
"Did…did any of them have white-blonde hair?" I ask hesitantly. "Sky-blue eyes?"
Adela's eyes widen in surprise, but she shakes her head. "No, why?"
"I…" The girls look at me curiously and I wonder just how much I can say without arousing suspicion. If this place is like any of the others, one of the girls is surely in a doctor’s pocket, and will report back anything I say. Lucky for me though, Not-Cheddar chooses that exact moment to scramble out of my pocket and climb up my shoulder, making the rest of the girls scream and try to leave the table.
"Hush! You'll scare her!" I chastise, bringing my finger up to rub under her chin.
"That’s…that's a rat!" Adela squeaks, looking squeamish.
"Ain't she just the prettiest thing?" I coo.
"She?" Patty asks incredulously.
"I mean, I'm assumin', considerin' her collar is pink and sparkly. Though I 'spose itcouldbe a boy…" Not-Cheddar squeaks in defiance. "Nope." I nod once. "Definitely a girl. Though we're still working on a name. Cheddar was quickly vetoed."
The girls, sensing that Not-Cheddar is not about to launch herself at them and gnaw on their faces, cautiously sit down. I pick up acracker from the snack plate and break a piece off, handing it to her. She takes it in her little claws and nibbles on it happily.
"Havarti was just hungry," I say, testing the waters, but Not-Havarti-or-Cheddar chitters in protest.
"Are you going to stick with cheese names?" Adela asks, a small smile on her lips as she watches the rat on my shoulder.
I snort, taking her off my shoulder and setting her on the palm of my hand. "What am I 'sposed to name her after? A vegetable?" I meet the little rat's eyes. "Do you like that cracker, Turnip?"
Her head tilts like she recognizes the name, and she lets out a little chirping sound. "Well I'll be! I guess her name is Turnip.Thatwas a lucky guess."
