by Tara Ellis
Entering another dark stairwell, I note that according to the maps we passed a few minutes ago, this level shouldn’t exist. I thought we were already on the bottom floor. My elbow is cupped from behind to slow me down, and I know without looking that it’s Seth. “This is getting weird,” he whispers.
“I’m sure the senator has a good reason for this,” I answer, gently pulling my elbow away.
“Perhaps,” Benuk states, “but secrecy is often associated with keeping something hidden that others would disapprove of. I think it’s obvious what they are hiding down here.”
My anxiety increasing, I follow the rest of our group through the heavy metal door at the bottom, and see immediately that this section is very different from the others. The walls are painted, there are intercoms set into the walls, although they no longer work. What look like large windows spaced every twenty feet or so down the hallway. A large, metal sign is set above another door at the end of the corridor. Big red letters read ‘Maximum Security’.
Drawing out a set of keys that I’ve seen only a couple of other times, Zane approaches the door and unlocks it, motioning us through. On the other side, several armed guards salute the senator. Although there are numerous lights scattered around the space, it’s still gloomy. I imagine it’s hard for everyone to see, but I can see all too well.
On the far end of the large, cavernous space is a huge wall of glass. Stepping toward it, I cautiously begin to cross the hundred-foot span. Missy calls out to me but I ignore her, distracted by the low hum beginning to resonate in my head.
At about twenty feet away, I can see a dozen or so people gathered in the room on the other side of the window. They all have their backs to me, engaged in what looks like various tasks set out on tables. I manage to take two more steps before the swelling noise forces me to stop. I can hear Zane ordering me to come back, but I’m transfixed by the people who have now stopped working and are slowly turning toward me.
Trying to rebuild the walls that I have practiced putting up for the past week, I force back the roar in my head and walk closer to them. More curious than afraid, I’m not surprised at the multiple sets of glowing eyes that greet me in the dim light.
I’m vaguely aware of the reaction from my friends behind me, ranging from shock to anger. I imagine they are cringing away from the spectacle, wanting to distance themselves from the Shiners. But not me. At first, I believe it’s my own curiosity pulling me in, my need to find answers to what’s happening to me.
But as I get closer, I begin to realize that they are there already, and the roar I’ve been hearing turns into a wave. It washes through me, bringing with it a darkness that pulls me down into nothingness.
***
Things slowly begin to come back into focus. Missy is urgently calling my name, and I know she’s holding my hand. Groaning, I force my eyes to open and see both Chris and Seth pacing nearby. I’m on some sort of small cot with Missy, and she’s cradling my head in her lap.
“In retrospect, I guess that was a stupid thing for me to do,” Zane says, somewhere out of sight.
“You think?” Seth replies angrily.
“Look, kid,” the senator retorts, “the other administrators of this base were completely against you guys knowing about this, uh, situation. The only way they would agree to include you in the experiments at all is by ensuring complete secrecy. If the rest of the general population of the base knew we were housing Shiners, there would be a panic. Who knows what would happen. The best way to explain what we’re doing is to just show you, but I should have taken this scenario into consideration.”
“Is my dad in there?” Missy chokes out, stroking my hair. Kyle puts a protective arm around her and glares at Zane.
“No sweetie,” Zane says. “I would have told you right away if we had found him. Two of them are my men who were infected early on and weren’t medicated in time. The rest are residents from nearby. What’s other option did we have? Kill them? Dr. Paul and I decided we would rather try to help them.”
“He’s right,” Nate says, agreeing. Always the one to see the broader picture, Nate spreads his hands wide, his red hair muted in the low light. “This way the Shiners might have a chance of someday being changed back again. I know if it were my mom or dad, I would rather they be detained than killed.”
Missy nods silently, clearly thinking of her own dad. I squeeze her hand in support and she gasps, realizing I’m awake. “Alex? Are you okay?” she asks urgently, her face hovering close to me.
Pushing myself up onto an elbow, Chris and Seth both rush over. Studying my face, Seth must be okay with what he sees, because his brow relaxes and he turns away, allowing Chris to position himself in front of me.
“What happened?” Chris asks, cupping my cheek gently with his hand.
“I felt them,” I answer shakily, looking around to make eye contact with everyone in the small room. “But I wasn’t in their heads. They were in mine.”
TWENTY
My brain still hurts. Gingerly pulling a sweatshirt over my head, I try to forget all of the strange dreams from the night before: Shiners in the darkness whispering to me, Chris pulling me down under the water’s surface. I squeeze my eyes shut against it, and push back the hair falling into my face.
If this is how it’s going to be every time I expose myself to the Shiners, I don’t know if I can do it. Dragging myself out of bed, I move over to the one small dresser in our room and start brushing my hair. This usually calms me.
Mom and Cindy were appalled when we told them about yesterday. Lisa was the only one who saw the advantages right away. I’m starting to see more of Chris in her, as her personality has become completely restored. Of course, Jake wanted to go see the prisoners, but Mom was adamant he not be allowed down there. I don’t blame her.
I was really hoping that my twelve hours of sleep would make this headache go away. Doc Paul gave me some ibuprofen last night, but it didn’t do much. Concerned, Mom brought me more today. But so far it still isn’t helping.
Hesitantly, I look at myself in the mirror, something I don’t do very much. Unfamiliar eyes return my stare and I lean closer, noting the small flecks of purple scattered in the silver. The solid ring of lavender has darkened, but otherwise, they haven’t changed. My hair, on the other hand, has continued to grow, and it now falls to my waist in thick, black waves. It’s never been this long before and while it’s pretty, it’s a huge pain in my butt. I try putting it up on my head, but this only intensifies my headache.
A few years back I tried to grow it out, and I remember the resulting headaches and neck pain it caused once it reached a certain length. I catch Missy watching in the mirror from behind me in her bed, and I turn around. “Wanna play beauty parlor?” I ask, referring to a game we played when we were younger. It seems like another lifetime, but it was actually just a few years ago.
“You betcha!” she says, bouncing on the bed. “Although you don’t need anything done. Me on the other hand, I’ll take a complete make-over.” Fluffing her shoulder-length blonde curls, she bats her blue eyes and purses her full lips. She’s always been the only one who got attention from the boys in school. I used to be what you’d consider a bit ordinary and dull. Not anymore.
I try to smile through the pain and shake my head at her. “I just want you to give me a haircut,” I explain. “I can’t stand having it this long anymore.”
“Head still hurting you?” Her smile fades. Missy might be good at playing the dumb blonde, but she’s anything but that. “Your encounter with the Shiners has to be what’s causing your pain, but you’re long over-due for a trim. Do you think it’ll help?” When I grimace in response, she jumps off her bed and pulls on some sweats. “Hang tight. I know where some scissors are.”
She’s back in a couple of minutes with shears from the family room, and I sit patiently as she carefully gathers my hair into a ponytail. With several quick snips, four-inch-long strips fall to the floor, bringing it back to it
s normal length. Almost instantly, the pressure in my head is relieved and I gasp at its absence.
“What’s wrong?” Missy asks, looking up at me in alarm.
“Nothing!” I answer, running my fingers happily through the shorter style, although it’s still well past my shoulders. “My headache is almost completely gone!”
“Gone?” Missy looks at me suspiciously. “Well, that’s strange.”
Shrugging, I turn away from her inquisitive gaze. It doesn’t make sense, but I’m too relieved to question it right now.
We hurry and finish getting dressed because there is yet another briefing this morning, even though it’s Sunday. After everything that happened yesterday, Zane wanted to get back together again once I had a chance to rest. I think he’s concerned about word getting out, in addition to coming up with a formal plan for proceeding.
We rush into the meeting room at the last minute, grabbing some stale bran muffins from the snack table on the way. I’m feeling better than I have in a while, and I go out of my way to sit next to Chris. With all of the awkwardness lately, it’s a welcome change, and he greets me with an unsuspecting smile. It isn’t until I bite into the muffin that I realize I can’t feel him anymore.
****
My mouth suddenly going dry, I struggle to swallow the coarse bread and wish I had some water. When Chris takes a sip from his cup and doesn’t offer me any, I’m further convinced that the connection is lost. I’m not sure how to feel about this.
Reaching out, I take his water and help myself, answering his questioning look with a frown. “Notice anything different?” I ask, studying his face closely.
“Umm, you cut your hair?” he asks, sensing that it was a loaded question. “It looks good!” he rushes to add.
Shaking my head in frustration, I lean toward him. “No! Forget about my stupid hair. Do you feel me anymore?” I press.
Pausing, he concentrates for a moment and his expression changes from confusion to concern. “What happened? Did the Shiners do something to you?”
“Is there anything you two would like to share with the rest of us?” Zane asks from the head of the table. Looking around, I realize everyone has been watching our exchange. Blushing slightly, I sit back and try to make sense of it.
“Her ability to feel or influence me is gone,” Chris answers for me, and I’m a bit thrown off by his tone. He sounds almost smug. I’m suddenly wishing that I could still read his emotions because this isn’t like him. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t blame him for being glad that I’m out of his head. It’s just that I’ve come to expect a bit more compassion from my friend. I wonder again just how much I’ve been influencing his actions toward me these past few weeks.
“What do you mean, gone?” Zane presses, looking back and forth between us.
“Do you still have a headache?” Dr. Paul questions, coming around the table to shine a light in my eyes. I pull back from him and shake my head.
“No. Not anymore. It was still really hurting this morning, but as soon as Missy cut my hair, it almost totally disappeared.”
“Cut your hair?” Benuk asks, his interest suddenly piqued. Interlacing his fingers, he leans forward, looking at me intensely.
I return his gaze from across the table and then look at Seth, who’s seated beside him. Shrugging at me, he spreads his palms. “No idea where this is going, doll,” he says. “But I actually liked the longer look on you.”
Fighting the urge to grin, I tuck a loose piece of the hair in question behind my ear. “Yes! I cut my hair. What’s the big deal?” I say to everyone in the room. “It’s grown more than four inches in the past month. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“Have you ever considered that your rapid hair growth was part of the changes from the virus?” Benuk asks, still looking serious.
“Well, of course, I did,” I retort, a bit on the defensive. “I’m not an idiot, Benuk. But it’s just hair! I didn’t think I needed permission to change it!”
“No one is saying you do, sweetie,” Mom says quickly. I notice that she is yet again sitting next to Zane. In fact, I’ve seen the two of them together a whole lot lately. I’ve been so absorbed in everything else that I’ve failed to notice their growing friendship. Lisa is seated on the other side of Mom, but Cindy is absent again. I think Missy’s mom is trying to focus more on little Natalie and the other children that have been put under her wings. I don’t blame her.
“I didn’t mean that to be accusatory,” Benuk responds, his voice softening. “Only that in retrospect, it may be a symptom that warrants closer scrutiny.”
Closing my eyes, I try to rein in my emotions and focus. Once again, I’m very close to acting like a brat. “I’m sorry, Benuk,” I say after a moment. “Of course, you’re right. Actually, Doc,” I continue, looking at the balding man still hovering near me. “I have no idea how it can be connected, but the headache really did disappear with the hair, and it seems my psychic abilities did, too. Any ideas?”
“I’ve got one,” Chris interrupts. “You all might find this hard to believe, but it’s a story from the Bible.”
“Yes,” Benuk answers knowingly. “Samson and Delilah.”
Nodding, Chris turns to me. “This is another one of those stories that have parallels in other cultures. It’s from the book of Judges, I think. Samson was born a Nazirite, meaning he was separated or set aside for God. He was regarded by some as a demigod. There were several rules he was supposed to follow, one of which was that he couldn’t cut his hair. To sum up the long story; he became a ruler, or judge, of the Israelites, and was fighting against the Philistines. They found that a way to him was through his weakness for women. Delilah was a prostitute that Samuel fell for-”
“Doesn’t sound like a very godly man to me,” Seth interrupts.
“He wasn’t,” Chris confirms. “Samuel ignored his Nazirite vow of Godly devotion, and instead relied upon himself. Although God gave him supernatural strength to free his people, his weakness for women was his downfall. Delilah betrayed him to the Philistines when she discovered his long hair was the source of his strength…his supernatural connection. When it was cut off, all of his powers disappeared.”
“That hardly proves that Alex’s hair has anything to do with her psychic abilities,” Seth points out. “It’s not like this virus was a gift from God.”
Chris glares at him, but his lack of argument against it surprises me. Actually, the whole manner in which he told the story was quite different from before. Usually, when he talks about the Bible his demeanor changes, and there’s an energy about him. Now, he seems to lack the same conviction.
“I agree that it isn’t the same,” Benuk states. “However, that is only one example and I believe Chris was simply stating the most popular and well-known story.”
“Yeah, there are Native American roots in the belief, too,” Chris confirms. “In most tribes, the hair was seen as a source for their ‘medicine’, and if it were cut, it would leak out. It was viewed as a symbol of spiritual health and strength.”
“The Sikh are another culture from the 15th century that viewed long hair as a spiritual thing,” Zane adds, getting in on the conversation. “We could go on and on about all the different beliefs surrounding it, but I think it’s safe to say that there is a basis for the connection.”
“I don’t get it,” Kyle says around a mouthful of muffin. “How in the world could Alex’s hair have anything to do with her reading Chris’s mind or the Shiners’?”
“Some people believe that the hair acts as a sort of antenna for spiritual energy,” Chris tries to explain. “I know that sounds crazy, and I wouldn’t have agreed with the idea a couple of weeks ago. But think about it: Alex’s abilities have increased as her hair has gotten longer. With everything else that’s going on, this idea about the connection with hair length may not be that far out there.”
“The Shiners might communicate with each other like a radio frequency,” Jake says, his young voice a
n unexpected addition.
We all turn our attention to him, where he sits on the other side of Zane. Baxter is sitting with him, his ears pointed and eyes bright, paying close attention to the conversation. Jake looks nervous with the sudden spotlight on him, but instead of chickening out, he stands up.
“Jim has been teaching me a lot of stuff, and it’s all about frequencies. Some of the guys have been talking about how they think the Shiners work. You know: the whole hive-mind thing? Well, you see, it might be like a radio wave. When you turn on a radio and tune into a station, it’s receiving that signal. It doesn’t go back and forth like a walkie-talkie, but it’s steady and a whole bunch of radios can all be tuned into the same station at once. That might be how the Shiners work. What you said, about her hair being antennae,” he continues, looking at Chris, “made me think about that. What if the Genesis project also enhanced that part? Maybe it’s usually so low-key that we don’t even know it’s there unless you’re some guru or something. So maybe Alex can now, like…tune into the frequency that the Shiners communicate with?”
Silence settles over the meeting room as we all absorb what my little brother just suggested. He turns eleven next week, but he just made the most sense of any of us. He awkwardly sits back in his seat, unsure whether our silence is a good or bad sign.
Smiling at him, I wish I were close enough to ruffle his hair, although he would just be irritated by it. “When did you get so darn smart?” I ask instead, and he returns the smile, relieved.
“So let’s say he’s right,” Nate proposes. “Does that mean her ability is gone now, or will it come back?”
Running his hands through his grey hair, Zane stands and picks up a stack of papers from the table. “I’m guessing it’s going to come back, or get stronger, just like it did before. We’re going to proceed with that expectation and follow this new schedule,” he continues, waving the papers for emphasis. “Alex, you’ll note that you now have time each day dedicated to Level Zero training. This will be how we refer to the Shiner holding facility from now on. I want no other reference made to them in mixed company. Understood?”
