Something is going on. I don’t know what but we suspect it is bad and maybe even really bad. They say the Tri-V is broken but Peterson – who used to work in Communications before he got blown up and POW’d – says they’re lying. He says they’ve removed the relays to all of the Tri-V units except for the one going to the Executive Administration Office. And that connection is live because he snuck in and tested it.
What is worrying is they’ve also disabled the wifi signal to all of the old feed points. Roland is worried that they’ve figured out we’ve been spying on them but Johnson isn’t buying it. He thinks that the Director – or someone higher up – has ordered the Staff cut off. I can’t imagine why although Mr. Waverly has been acting weird too.
Then Roland and I got pulled off our chores by people we’d never see and taken to the Administrative wing. I was sure we’d been found out, only when we got there we were told to calm the rest of us down so we could give more blood. I don’t feel well now. Most everyone else had to be helped back. Roland was too weak to push his chair which has never happened. Mr. Waverly had to get our soldiers to help us get back to our rooms as we weren’t allowed to rest until we felt better and could move on our own. They didn’t want us in the Administrative wing. And I’m pretty sure that I heard noise from Lockdown.
Lockdown. This is the first time I’ve ever heard sounds coming from there. I know where the door is. I’ve figured that much out. But the noise didn’t make any sense and then I got so dizzy I passed out.
Something isn’t right. It was too soon to take our blood. It hadn’t been a whole month. And they took so much. Too much. Something just isn’t right.
Johnson cornered Waverly and snapped, “What the hell man? Two liters … two friggin’ liters. And who the hell was doing the sticking?! They look like they’ve been chewed on by a pack of rabid vampires.”
“Watch your tone and lower you voice. They’re watching everyone these days. Just help me get the children to bed. They’ve promised more iron supplements and some vitamins, blood builders and the like. I’ll come back when I have them.”
Three hours later Johnson was weighing the risks of going to look for Waverly when he limped into the common room pushing a cart. Waverly had been beat on, though not so bad he couldn’t do his job. He was accompanied by a man that Johnson recognized as Mr. Russell, the man in charge of grounds and security.
Russell asked Johnson, “What are you still doing here?”
“I was assigned to look after the kids. I haven’t been relieved.”
Sighing in aggravation Russell said, “Fine. Since you’re here you can help.”
Waverly beckoned Johnson over and they pushed the cart towards Roland’s room. As they did Russell sat down and started reading something on an old-style clip board. Johnson started to say something but a look from Waverly asked him to keep it quiet.
As they went room to room dosing the occupants with various medications before telling them to go back to sleep, Waverly would write quickly on a pad of sticky notes and then palm the notes to Johnson. Johnson would quickly slide the notes in his pocket. Russell would pop in and out of the rooms as well at irregular intervals and sometimes stop them completely and make them do a spot inventory. It was like he was trying to catch them at something, or that he didn’t trust Waverly for some reason.
Finally Waverly rolled the cart towards the exit where Russell stopped him to take inventory one more time. Johnson asked the two men, “What now?”
It was Russell that answered rather than Waverly that answered, “They’ll sleep it off like they always do. You and the others just keep an eye on ‘em. Don’t let ‘em wander off. If you make yourselves useful enough, then might be them study guides ain’t the only assistance you’ll be receiving. You make trouble and it’s off to Lockdown for the whole lot of you.”