Ezra could barely remember being lifted onto a stretcher and taken out of the cell. He did remember trying to reach for his mother’s hand, but barely being able to move his arm. He remembered his parents’ frantic voices as they were shoved back, prevented from following as Ezra was taken to the medbay.
Now he lay on a cot, one in a row of a dozen, each of them occupied by another victim of the virus that was sweeping through the cell block. His left hand was cuffed to the metal rail at the cot’s side, the cuff so tight around his wrist that it had already left bruises on his skin.
Ezra whimpered, pulling at the cuff as the medical droid approached, preparing to give him another dose of the drug that was supposed to treat the illness. The effects of the last dose had only worn off moments ago, and the thought of going through it again brought tears stinging at his eyes.
“No!” Ezra cried as the droid approached, a needle extending from a port in what passed for its hand. “I want my mom and dad!”
Ezra’s protests were ignored and the needle quickly jabbed into his arm. Seconds later, a burning sensation spread through Ezra’s body. His tears spilled over and ran down his cheeks as the feeling grew stronger, like his insides had been set on fire. He groaned as he pulled at the cuff again. He didn’t know why it was there. He didn’t know why he was here or where here was. He just knew he was alone and he was scared and it hurt and his parents weren’t there and…
“Mom!” he cried. “Mom, help! Dad!”
“Shut up,” another tired, young voice growled from somewhere to his right.
Ezra forced himself to sit up, letting out another long, pained groan as he did so. He yelped as the cuff twisted around his wrist, scraping at his skin.
“Prisoner 253809, return to your bed,” the mechanical voice of the medical droid said.
“I want my mom,” Ezra said, his voice breaking.
“All prisoners with symptoms of the virus are to remain in quarantine,” the droid said.
The burning sensation grew stronger, shooting through Ezra’s body. He cried out, doubling over and clutching at his stomach. He heard the harsh beep that he knew meant the droid had called the medbay security team. Ezra’s head pounded as footsteps drew closer and two stormtroopers appeared at the foot of his cot.
“Back in bed, kid,” one of the troopers said.
Ezra couldn’t argue that he wasn’t even out of bed. He couldn’t get his voice to work except to say one sentence.
“I want my mom and dad.”
The last thing Ezra knew before blacking out was the sight of a blaster pointed in his direction, a flash of blue light, and the familiar sting of a stun bolt striking his chest.
It was four days before Ezra was brought back to the cell. He was still shaking and could barely keep his balance, but he was forced to walk anyway. When he stumbled and tripped, one of the troopers escorting him would grab his arms and drag him until he got his feet back under him. He tripped again and fell to the floor as the cell door was opened and he was shoved through it.
“Ezra!”
Within seconds, his parents were beside him, their arms around him, crushing him between them. A hand was running through his hair as he clung to his father, sobbing against his chest.
“Where were you?” Ezra asked, the words coming out in between sharp gasps.
“They wouldn’t let us see you,” his father said, his arms tightening around Ezra. “They didn’t tell us where you were.”
“We’re so sorry, Ezra,” his mother said. “But you’re okay now. It’s okay.”
She didn’t say he was safe now. Ezra knew she couldn’t say that because it wouldn’t be true. He wasn’t safe here. None of them were. He didn’t think they’d ever be safe again.