Without waiting for a response, Forrest leaves us alone. A second latch clicks, locking us in. The moment the door closes, the simulation begins. The blank room becomes an interrogation room, empty except for a metal table and two metal chairs. I sit in one. Terry sits on the other.
“Troy is gone,” Terry says in a low voice. But his lips aren’t moving. And when I respond, mine don’t either. He’s opened telepathic communication.
“I’m sorry, should I know who that is?” I cross my arms over my chest and sit back, jaw clenched. But I do know who Troy is. Did he fall off the bridge in the Survival Test? Did he die?
Terry’s expression darkens. “You’re a smug bastard. When we’re done here, I’ll deal with you.”
“You mean Derrek will,” I correct. “Because you’re too much of a chicken to do anything yourself.” Sharp pain throbs in my head. I press my hands to my temples, but it stops just as quickly as it started.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Terry says. “You and Miller are up to something. Tell me what.”
I laugh, but it’s cut short by another sharp, pressing pain in my head.
“Tell me what you’re up to!”
“Nothing.” The pain twists at my temples. I try to fight it off, but it feels like my head is getting pinched in a vice. I grind my teeth and press my palms to my temples, to little effect.
“Everyone has a breaking point,” Terry says.
The pain intensifies.
“I just have to find yours.”
I squint to try and regain control of my senses, but they’re starting to slip. Everything is distorted. The lights in the room are brighter. Sounds are duller.
Terry leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. But this isn’t him. Forrest told him to do this, to dig for something. And I remember what Terry told Forrest in the hallway, and I force out a laugh; it sounds more like a rumbling groan.
Terry’s brows pull together. “What the hell is so funny?”
“You can’t read me,” I say, gritting my teeth. The pain is like he’s digging around in my head, but for some reason I don’t understand, he just can’t read me.
“I can read anyone,” Terry says, his tone more defensive.
“Then do it. What am I thinking right now?”
Everything goes silent. He doesn’t speak to me. I don’t speak to him. The pain in my head progressively grows—sharp, digging, stabbing pains. I grind my teeth to keep from screaming. My brain is about to tear apart like he’s trying to unravel the mysterious barrier to get to the truth. It makes the back of my eyes hurt.
After a few excruciating minutes, something warm trickles from my ear. I reach a shaking hand up to touch it and pull away, gazing at the blood through the welling tears.
“Stop!” I cry aloud, weak and shaking, hardly able to shift the slightest without intense pressure on my head.
“Tell me,” Terry says through his teeth. Sweat rolls down his temples and beads on his lip. His eyes squint at me.
Good. This is painful for him, too. It’s a battle of wills.
My jaw twitches and my teeth grind so hard I hear the crunch. The room starts pulsing between bright and dark. Every part of my body weakens, and the pain in my head is worse than any headache. I barely focus long enough to see Terry gripping the edge of the table, white-knuckled. The room spins.
Tile cools my cheek. I blink against the bright ceiling lights. Forrest looms over my face. His warm fingers are against my neck.
Forrest speaks to someone outside my tunnel vision, his voice thick and distant. “Get him back to his bed. I’ll send someone to him.”
“What about him?” The other voice is far off and unrecognizable. All I can think about is sleep. I need to sleep.
“Send him to floor 189,” Forrest says, standing. He’s so tall. As if he were stretched too high and thin.
Hands grab my shoulders and legs, lifting me off the floor. Pain pulses anew in my head. Sleep pulls me down.
~~~
A voice drifts into my sleep, pulling me awake. Bianca. I open my eyes and turn my head, feeling completely drained of energy. She is at the door of my room talking to someone in a white coat. She closes the door and turns to me.
“You’re awake.” Bianca hurries to my side. “My brother sent me to keep an eye on you.”
“Your… brother…”
“Yes,” she sits on the edge of the bed. “Forrest. I know. He said the other test subject went overboard. He nearly killed you, Ugene.”
“Nearly.” I snort. Like that would have happened. Forrest watched the whole thing. “Your brother—” I try to push myself upright on shaking arms, but my body gives out.
“Stay put,” she says, tucking the blanket tighter around me.
“Your brother…”
“Shh. Later,” Bianca brushes her hand across my forehead. “For now, rest.”
The comforting motion aids me back to sleep.
27
Fog fills the room, masking the faces of those around me. Is this a dream? I try to move my hand, touch the mist, curl my fingers around it, but nothing. My being is omnipresent as if watching through the fog with no body. Distantly familiar voices reach out to me, but the words are just as bodyless as I am.
…subject took to… injection… he’s in recovery and soon will… We must prepare for a Power surge. Anything…
Is this real? Are they talking about me or someone else? I try to speak but have no voice. Only eyes and fog.
… hasn’t woken since the procedure… successful extraction… adrenaline boost to speed…
The fog and voices vanish. Just a void of darkness followed by nightmares remain.
~~~
Sarsaparilla. Chirping birds. My senses awaken, and I stretch aching limbs. When I open my eyes, I expect to be surrounded by fog, but the warmth of my blankets and softness of the mattress offer comfort as the walls of my room—so much like my bedroom at home but so different still—greet me. I expect to hear Overwatch announce the daily routine, but she does not. I sit up, put my bare feet against the cold tile floor, and notice the door is already slightly ajar. Did I oversleep?
Hunger seizes my stomach, and I make my way to the cafeteria in bare feet. No one pays me any attention as I shuffle along and eat eggs with bacon and toast. The other subjects all have their own problems. I don’t recognize any of my friends in the dozen or so faces, so I head back to my room when I finish.
The moment I open the door, a voice says, “There you are.”
I jump out of my skin, press a hand against my pounding heart.
Forrest is seated at my desk, his tablet resting on the clean surface.
“Just got back from breakfast,” I say, walking over to make my bed. It’s something to do to recover and avoid looking at him, or the tablet resting on the desktop. “I didn’t hear anything about a test today.”
“You are still in recovery,” Forrest states simply. “I’m just here to check up on you.”
“Feelin’ peachy, Captain.” I settle on the bed, and notice Forrest appears worn out, exhausted. “You look like you could use some recovery. Rough bender last night?”
Forrest rubs his temple, then his eyes. “I’m fine.”
But he isn’t. And it isn’t exhaustion. Forrest’s normally copper skin is pale. I watch as he props his chin on his fist and fights off sleep. His eyes close. His body slumps. Then his head slips off his fist and falls to the desk.
I jump to my feet to help him, but pause when I realize what happened.
“Don’t touch him,” Trina says, slipping into the room. “If I did this right, he should be out for about an hour.”
“He’s going to know,” I say, taking a step away from Forrest.
“No, I manipulated his cells days ago so this would slowly creep up on him. He shouldn’t suspect a thing if we act quick.”
Michael shuffles into the room, giving me wide berth as he moves toward Forrest. His hand is shaking as
he reaches out.
“Keep it gentle,” Trina warns. “Or he could wake up.”
Michael nods and licks his lips, then carefully places his shaking hand on Forrest’s hand. I can’t see Michael using his DNA Mimicking ability, but I have faith he isn’t wasting time. What will happen to us if Forrest wakes up too soon?
“Dave—” I say.
Trina puts her fingers to her lips and shakes her head. “He’s down the hall listening for trouble.”
I nod. This was the plan. Knock Forrest out in a safe space. Mimic his DNA so we can get access to his tablet while Dave keeps watch.
Michael lets go of Forrest after a few seconds, then picks up the tablet and uses his Power to gain access. After checking the DNA, it prompts for retinal scans. Michael’s eyes widen, and I can see him shaking. Holding my breath—as if breathing on Forrest will wake him—I reach out and gently open one of his eyes. Michael holds up the tablet to scan. It flashes, then beeps.
We release a collective breath when it works. The screen lights up, revealing a list of files. Michael frowns and hands it to me, careful not to touch my skin. What did I do to him when he made contact with me during that test?
No time for that now. I make quick work of skimming through the files, and one catches my interest. IVD Veritax. I tap the files, and an image pops up. Red, bold letters practically pop off the page. But it’s what they say that intrigues me: IVD Veritax: Why be ordinary when you can be extraordinary?
It looks like an advertisement.
My fingers wrap around the edge as I study the image on the screen.
“What do you think it means?” Trina asks.
“I- It’s …” Extraordinary... A lump forms in my throat. “I think it’s some kind of Power boost, maybe?” Curious, I tap the screen, going back to find Forrest’s files.
The answers I want about myself, and what Paragon is actually doing, are in here, somewhere. The way the data is coded and organized doesn’t make any sense to me.
Until I find a file named, “IVD Test Subject 1.”
Curious, I tap it and scroll through, quickly forgetting Trina and Michael hovering around me. Everything in here is about my test results. The blood tests and lumbar punctures. Another file inside is titled “IVD Probabilities,” but I can’t open it without a password. My finger hovers over the most recent test. I want to tap it, but I hesitate, uncertain. Why are these IVD files all concerning my testing?
“That’s not what we’re looking for,” Trina says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “We need information to use when we get out or something to help us get out. And this IVD thing, if it’s just a booster that doesn’t sound so bad.”
I shrug, then spot a file marked Proposal. Biting my lip, I stab it. A box pops up, requesting a password. No luck there. We only have minutes. Not enough time to try hacking his password. We need someone else for that.
I proceed to another file. “IVD Trials.” I tap the folder, and a series of names appear. One, in particular, catches my eye.
Jade.
My pulse quickens as I open it and read the first few lines:
Jade: Subject injected with IVD B21.
Failure.
Recommendation: Disposal.
The air suddenly feels too thin. I can’t seem to draw a full breath. Attached is a video file. I play it and nearly drop the tablet as we watch in horror.
Jade is strapped to a metal table. Tears roll down her cheeks as she whimpers. Forrest steps into view holding a syringe, inserts it into her arm, and depresses the plunger. After wiping the injection site and bandaging it, Forrest steps out of sight again. Jade fills the frame. Her eyes lose focus, body convulsing on the table.
Tears well in my eyes as I watch, wanting to look away but unable to stop. I need to see this for myself. After a minute, her body falls still. I hold my breath, watching, waiting for something. And I notice that her chest isn’t rising and falling. Jade isn’t breathing anymore.
“Oh god,” Trina whimpers, hands over her mouth.
My finger hovers for a moment, angry, terrified of what else I will find but unable to stop. I strike another file.
Vicki: Subject injected with IVD B30. Potential feasibility in serum interaction.
Subject Failure. Potential control agent.
Recommendation: Termination.
I punch open the video, and we watch the same test on Vicki. As her convulsions stop, I watch the slow rise and fall of her chest, relieved that she survived.
And then the screaming starts. We can’t hear the sound, but the anguish in her open-mouthed expression, the way her back arches unnaturally off the table, make it clear enough. Whatever she suffered at that moment was horrific. Then her Telekinetic Power surges. Everything in the room with her that isn’t strapped or bolted down lifts off the ground flies around in a maelstrom of equipment, leaving dents in the walls and bending the leg of a surgical table. Suddenly it stops. Vicki shakes, struggles for breath, then passes out. I watch the irregularity of her breathing as Forrest steps back into view, checks her pulse and his tablet, then says, “Potential temporary Power removal” to someone off-screen.
And pure anger burns through my veins. I grip the tablet so hard in my hands that it bites into my palms.
“Ugene,” Trina whispers. “We are running out of time.”
But there is one more name I recognize. And I can’t put the tablet down without watching this one.
Terry: Subject injected with IVD B32.
Potential feasibility.
Recommendation: General population and observation.
I watch the video. Terry reacts much as Vicki did. But he doesn’t cry like she did at first. He pleads. We can’t hear his words, but the movement of his lips and the desperation on his face make it clear enough. His reaction is initially the same as Vicki—a Telepathic Power surge without the maelstrom of equipment—and when he settles back, his breathing is more regular than hers as he passes out. Forrest checks vitals and clicks something on his tablet before retreating. What did he see?
Others are on the list before Terry, even before Jade. Most of the names I don’t recognize. But we don’t have time to watch. I’m also afraid of how hot the anger burns in me. Another video and I’m likely to lose it.
I quickly exit the video and search for Terry’s file.
Trina shifts anxiously. “Ugene, we’re out of time.”
“Just a few more seconds.”
Terry’s file appears in a list, and I open it, scrolling through the contents until I find what I was looking for. They did it. They boosted Terry’s Power. Was this before or after the test with me?
“Ugene!” Trina hisses.
If they had one success, Forrest would want to replicate it. He will bring in other subjects to test. The injection may not work on everyone. Miller! Where has he been? I haven’t seen him since the Survival Test.
And what was that blue pill they made us all take?
Trina snatches the tablet from my vice-like grip and flips through it. “Video feeds,” she mutters. For a moment she chews her lip as she taps the screen. “Taken care of.”
“What?” I growl the word.
“I just deleted the video feed to your room for the last hour. Time to go.”
I need more information. “Wait!” I lunge for the tablet, but Trina turns it off and returns it to the desk as Forrest stirs.
“After dinner,” she whispers.
Then she and Michael slip out. I’m unable to say anything. I was right. About all of it. Forrest and Paragon are experimenting on test subjects, and not all of the experiments end well. Jade… Such a sweet, if quiet, girl. She deserved better. And why was Vicki’s file marked for termination? She survived the experiment but hasn’t been back. Did they…? No. I can’t believe Paragon would kill her. I can’t.
It takes all the energy I have to focus on calming the pure rage burning through my veins before Forrest wakes. It’s one thing to test and monitor people’s abilities. It�
��s another to force people into experimentation that could result in death.
Forrest pushes himself upright and rubs his temple. He glances at the tablet, then turns attention to me.
“What happened?” he groans.
“You need sleep,” I manage to get out, barely masking my anger. “Passed out.”
“You okay?” he asks, stretching his back and rolling his neck.
Like he cares!
“Just worried.” Not a lie.
“Sorry.” Forrest stands stiffly, then grabs his tablet. “Let’s get to work.”
Work. Every part of me wants to resist, refuse. But Forrest can’t know that I know. Still, I can’t keep from asking the question itching at my mind.
“Hey, I’ve been wondering,” I say, trying to sound casual as I slip on my loafers. “There was a girl, a Telepath named Jade, who used to eat with me. I haven’t seen her in a long time. Do you know where she went?”
Forrest scratches his neck as he stands and grabs his tablet. “Jade… Jade…” He tucks the tablet into the pocket of his white coat. “Oh, yes. She tested out of the program a little while back. I think she went home.”
The lie slams against my chest, and I do my best to hide the newest surge of anger rising in me. Forrest can’t know that I know. But he is covering for Paragon, and those who fail the experiment aren’t sent home.
Now, more than ever, I need to help get everyone as far away from Paragon as possible. I have to lead them out of this place somehow.
28
Miller is in the cafeteria at dinnertime, and I can’t help feeling overwhelmed with relief. I tell him about the meeting after dinner but refuse to say more. Not until we are in a safer location. Then, I prepare to meet Trina and the others in the bathroom so we can talk about what we learned.
As I round a corner near the bathroom, I nearly collide with Bianca. Her hands grasp my arms to steady me.
“In a rush?” she asks, offering that teasing smile.
Suddenly, I remember the overwhelming urge to tell her what her brother did to me in the test with Terry. But she won’t believe me. Forrest may not have always gotten on with Bianca very well, but he has always been a protective older brother.
Ordinary Page 17
