Replicator (The Gifted Book 2)

by C. C. Lynch

  “We didn’t need you teleporting yourself out of here with the Josnic brothers, now did we?”

  “Erik?” I whimpered before falling to the floor.

  I awoke slowly and kept my eyes shut as I took in the noises around me. I was in a new room judging on the smell and I only heard one person near me. I allowed my telepathy to try and pick up any vibrations or sounds. The fellow telepath hum was close by.

  The fog was clearing from my mind quickly, though my head was plagued with a terrible ache from my fall. I peeked through the slit of my eye to see the hooded person in the room with me. Considering the healer was there, I must have had a nasty concussion.

  I hated that I could not see the face of the person who was continuously healing me. I did not want anyone using their gifts on me, especially a person whose identity was constantly hidden. As the person came closer I ripped his hood off revealing a familiar face hiding behind the disguise.

  “Dad?” I croaked as tears blurred my vision.

  Even if I had not looked at the picture of him that Draxe had given me, I would have known who he was. Our similarities were remarkable.

  “Hold still, you have a concussion.” It was his voice. I had been hearing him say my name in my head warning me when Erik was using his manipulation. He knew about me and had been monitoring me to at least some extent.

  Quickly, he placed the hood back over his head hiding the majority of his face. His hand wrapped around taking my pulse. Four days. My father’s voice echoed in my head.

  Four days to what? Was that a warning, a plan, or how many days I had been unconscious? My head ached too much to think on what he was trying to tell me. If he was able to get into my head and speak to me, I was sure he would say something else at some point to confirm what those two words had meant.

  I stared up at my father trying to figure out everything I had missed over the past seventeen years. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, but at the moment the thing weighing heaviest on my mind was how we were going to get out of Replyx.

  Why was he even at Replyx? Someone like me who did not have a grasp on their gifts was an easy target, but an adult should have been a much more difficult task. Either way, I could not let anyone know I was aware that it was my father. I hoped that Curtis was the only one who had heard me say “dad.” If anyone else had heard, I would just lie and blame it either on the concussion or a terrible dream. After Erik’s denial of Lacey, or possibly the loss of his knowledge of the girl, I probably seemed that I was on the brink of insanity.

  I swallowed and tried to force moisture to my dry mouth. Inhaling deeply, I sucked in a breath then screamed out Erik’s name. A moment later he rushed into the room asking what was wrong as if he had no idea what could possibly be bothering me.

  “I’m going to just ignore the fact that you drugged me for a moment because I’m sure you’ll get to that later, but next time can you please have me lie down before I get concussed. Really,” I thrashed my arms about, “the hooded healer is going to get sick of fixing me up.”

  Erik’s eyes darted between my father and me. “I’ll make you a deal,” he sauntered closer, “I won’t drug you when I know I can trust you.”

  My incessant banging on the door trying to get Vlaine and Jay’s attention certainly did not help his trust. For all I knew it could have sent me back to 12F. “Whatever,” I flicked my hand in the air. “Do your magic and rid me of this concussion, please, so I can get back to whatever else is in store for me today.”

  “There’s the spirited girl I know.” Erik stretched backwards then pulled out his cell phone and began clicking away on the screen.

  As my eyes darted between the two men in the room, clarity of the situation dawned on me. Having my father heal me was another one of Jeremiah’s games. A father healing the wounds of his child and never being able to stop them from happening or reveal that he was there to support them was definitely a form of torture. My father was being tormented in a cruel way, in the most primal part of human nature. It was only a matter of time before a parent would snap after seeing their child in pain. Was that what four days meant? Four days was the limit for my Dad? I was going to drive myself crazy wondering what he had meant.

  Nicholas was there to keep me in line and I was probably there to keep my father in line. Two replicators from the same family must have been the equivalent of winning the lottery for Jeremiah. It also meant that Jeremiah and his men would be in for a storm of backlash once we could gain our freedom.

  Erik tucked his phone into his jeans and squared his shoulders towards me, comfortable with the current silence. I began replicating the guitar player’s gift and planned on doing it whenever I was not actively involved in a conversation.

  As for Erik, he and I had already established a connection and they were utilizing that. If I wanted to be comfortable and as happy as possible at Replyx then I needed to play well with him. I was nearly one hundred percent certain that the constant breaking of my spirit and having it mended by Erik was to form a synthetic relationship between us. It would force me to depend and trust him then eventually work with him for whatever it was they wanted in the future. If my father had some sort of escape plan in place, then I certainly could play best friends with Erik until I was back to safety.

  “I know that the only way for you to trust me is to first trust you,” I began, hoping that this would not backfire on me. “So I need to confess something to you. Can you promise that if I tell you the truth about something you won’t use it against me and that you will keep it an absolute secret?”

  Erik closed the space between us and searched my eyes before answering with a curt, “Sure.”

  “Can you send him out, please?” I nodded in the direction of my father.

  Erik glared at Curtis who left without a word exchanged between the two of them. I sat up on the table my disguised father had been healing me on, tucked my legs underneath my body, and then slapped the spot next to me indicating for Erik to sit there. He smiled triumphantly and complied.

  “I lied to you about Nicholas,” I admitted, touching his arm lightly. I played the entire memory and showed him different aspects of our friendship proving that he was never actually my boyfriend. “I should have told you after you opened up about your gift.” I sunk my head down.

  The remorse was real, I felt terrible that my lie had gotten Nicholas involved in the mess that had quickly become my life. Had the ability to travel through time been a gift, I would have replicated just to take that one piece of time back.

  “Thank you for your honesty.” Erik’s mouth was tight, his expression pensive. “Is there anything else you would like to share?”

  “Nothing else that I can think of right now, but I reserve the right to change my mind in the future.” Quickly, I added before he had the chance to say anything, “You’ll be making your daily evening visit later, right?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, you’ll be working with Slade and Jeremiah today. I’ll check on you after you get healed and are set up in whatever room you get tonight.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I snorted. “So I’ll talk to you after Slade and Jeremiah try to kill me and I have to get patched up once again.”

  Though I had a smile on my face, my stomach turned with the idea of the pain Slade would soon put me in. I wanted to cry. It felt like I was one test away from breaking. Erik was watching me intently and I decided to allow the emotions to take over. I did not need to be strong for anyone but myself. Plus, letting Erik see me cry would be a symbol of trust.

  The tears streamed down my face as I bent over letting my quiet sobs shake the medical table we were sitting on. Erik’s arm wrapped around my shoulder in a consoling embrace and he rested his chin on my head, telling me that it was okay. I let my head fall on his shoulder and cried into his sweatshirt feeling both resent for myself and hope that my tasteless actions would grant me a more comfortable few days until whatever plan my father had was put into action
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  “Sorry,” I finally pushed myself off from him and blushed. “I got your shirt all gross.”

  He pulled his shirt up and looked at the wet spot my tears had left in the soft spot of his chest above his armpit. “You can get my shirt all gross anytime.”

  Unless Erik played psychological torture extremely well, he truly was trying to be a friend. Whatever experience he had at the tree house made him actually believe that they were benevolent. Was that a type of sickness or just poor parenting?

  A small smile formed on my lips at the thought of being able to help Erik. I decided then and there that if I could heal Erik I would.

  Without any notice the door to the room flew opened and Slade grabbed my arm. “Time to play, Abrielle,” he chortled as he pulled me off of the table.

  Pain radiated from where his fingertips dug into my flesh with violent jerks as Slade forced me into the hallway where Jeremiah was waiting in his typical attire holding a stopwatch. Any empath in that moment would have cried feeling the amount of disturbing excitement. The entire time I was there I had been referring to their actions as mind games, but this time Slade had actually addressed it as one. That acknowledgment was terrifying.

  “As you have undoubtedly figured out, the demonstration studio was absolutely brilliant in design. It is fire proof,” Jeremiah stopped to meet my gaze as if he was receiving a medal, “and can withstand the force of nearly every gift encountered. Though you can teleport inside the room, one cannot teleport outside of it.”

  “Masterful,” I muttered as I tried to keep up with Slade’s speed.

  “We learn more about what replication actually is by seeing it performed for us. All of our abilities are scientific marvels, but replication is by far the most fascinating. If we can harness whatever it is that allows one to reproduce another’s abilities, our progress would be limitless. Finances, healthcare, transportation, defense markets, politics, they would be in our hands.”

  His immediate plan was along the lines of what I had expected, but hearing it from Jeremiah’s mouth was even more disgusting. Slade circled me while Jeremiah spoke. At one point I leapt out of the way from a sphere of hurtling fire, lost my balance, and brushed against Jeremiah amidst my fall to the floor. I was repulsed with the fact that I had touched him, even if it was accidental.

  “Jeremiah,” I slowly stood, gaining courage, “where is Nicholas?”

  A contemptible snicker erupted from Slade. “You don’t need to worry about him. He’s in a cage with the other vermin.”

  “What?” I sputtered, assuming that I had misunderstood him. I was appalled by everything. The idea of using humans as science experiments, the lack of humanity in either men in the room, their game of using loved ones to keep “subjects” compliant. It was unequivocally revolting.

  “Yes.” Jeremiah nodded as if he was giving a scholastic lesson. “We keep the incompetents in cages.” His expression was stolid, but a joyous undertone in his words showed that he was delighted with this fact.

  “You keep humans in cages?” My words came as a growl through gritted teeth. “What is your plan when you’re done studying me? You’re going to erase his memory and send him off into the world like nothing happened?”

  Jeremiah’s brows rose in surprise. “Of course not. This is a serious research and development company, Miss Abbott.” He paused for effect. “Every test animal here graciously gives their life in the name of science.”

  I clamped my jaw down so hard that it made a cracking noise from the pressure. “You’re goading me.” I shook my head. “There is no way you just kill people like it’s of no consequence to you.”

  Both men remained quiet, their vile leer saying more than enough.

  Every negative emotion I had felt since I had been there boiled. Anger, fear, repulsion, disgrace, guilt, loneliness, helplessness, they all came together and in that instant I detested both of the men in the room with me.

  Hatred was what I felt and I let it consume me. I inhaled the emotions then pushed my hands forward as I let out a blood curdling scream. The dim lights flickered violently before bursting into shattered glass fragments and the floor peeled forward as my vat of emotions were sourced through my emulation of Vlaine’s gift. Inorganic and dead matter soared through the air as chunks of the floor spewed from my force. Splinters and sheer power threw Jeremiah and Slade backwards as a mix of Vlaine and Slade’s gift erupted into a powerful explosion at their feet.

  A shrill scream escaped my mouth, equal parts hatred and shock from the devastation I had caused. My eyes adjusted quickly to the suddenly dark room. Slade’s body lay limp, his arm in a bizarrely twisted position. Jeremiah sat up slowly. Pockets of inflamed flesh hugged the chunks of floor now embedded in his face. Even with the gashes and blood trickling down, his lips were twisted into a sickening smile. The few lights in the room that were still intact flickered then burned out as the devastating realization dawned on me - I was breaking.

  Jeremiah began clapping his hands in a slow and daunting pace. “That is excellent.”

  Why couldn’t I feel their pain? Hurting someone with destruction should have made me feel what they had felt. Hatred made me a monster. Was I so weak that all it took was less than two months of isolation, deprivation, and the threat of someone I loved to change me? Surely it would make me weaker, but so weak that I had lost my empathy?

  No. I refused to believe that my overall nature could be altered. There had to be another explanation to why I did not feel any pain after I had set fire to their feet and blasted them backwards. Whatever the reason was, it paled in importance when compared to my need to leave that place.

  My focus moved to Slade who was now standing, his mangled arm even more apparent by his stance. The hatred I had felt dissipated, but the desire to punch the glasses right off Jeremiah’s face remained. Contempt had been short lived and extremely powerful, but restoration was where my abilities flourished. I began healing Slade’s arm as quickly and efficiently as possible.

  “It’s emotional,” I pointed to the men. “Replication is tied to emotion. How are you going to harness my gift if you cannot truly harness human emotion?” They had done their best to control my emotions and the type of torture they were using would eventually lead to it, but there was still a bit of humanity in my detainment. Jeremiah began to speak but I cut him off and clapped my hands together. “You can go ahead and alter anyone’s DNA to look like mine, clone me, or do whatever but you can’t determine the nature vs. nurture of my gift. Replyx Corporation,” I guffawed, “what a joke!”

  “Abrielle,” Erik came into the room waving a flashlight, “it’s time for a lunch break.”

  They had already seen I was powerful and now I wanted them to see I was brave. My eyes remained fixed on Slade and Jeremiah for a few moments past uncomfortable before I turned on my heel and followed Erik.

  8

  The energy I felt as I stepped onto the cafeteria floor was completely different from when I had gone with Lacey. It was stale, almost as if the feeling was being sucked from my chest. The atmosphere was numbing in the most uncomfortable way. When I stepped inside the room I found familiar faces. Nearly everyone in the cafeteria was from Glaston Academy. My heart dropped as I walked in next to one of the men responsible for their capture. I spotted Will in the far corner eating alone. His eyes never found mine. In fact, none of the students looked up. They were either engrossed in slow murmured conversations with another person or staring at their meal.

  I had not seen any of them at Replyx before that day. Either they had just entered a phase that allowed them to eat together in a cafeteria or this was a sick part of an emotional experiment. The second was extremely egotistical, but if it was a correct assessment then they had certainly achieved their goal.

  How could any empath eat here? The room felt like an emotional black hole. I leaned into Erik’s side and whispered as lightly as I could. “How do we get promoted to the first cafeteria Jeremiah took me to?”
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  “He took you to the Replyx café. We’re in the tree house right now. They’re two different entities, just the same building and same food.”

  I wondered if they truly were separate. If they were then it was possible that some of the people working for Jeremiah had no idea what the actual intent of Replyx research entailed. “So, do the people that were working in those laboratories know about what happens in the ‘tree house,’ then?”

  “Some do, some don’t,” he shrugged. “Come on,” he grinned. Putting a hand on the small of my back, “they have lobster bisque today and you have to try it.”

  I followed Erik in the a la carte style line feeling the pressing guilt of the students in the cafeteria surrounding me. As we made our way to a table in the center of the room the same girl who had seen Erik get flung by Vlaine’s energy blast looked over to me and gave a small, tight smile. Against my better judgment I pushed into her mind to see what she was thinking, but her thoughts were in slow words including Abrielle, nice, heal, and Glaston Academy. They were descriptive, not sentences.

  “Everyone seems a bit,” I paused in search of what I was witnessing, “sedated.”

  I took another look around the room at the people slowly consuming the food in front of them. Dazed smiles or glum gazes were the only expressions aside from Erik and me. I felt like I was in an asylum with heavily medicated patients.

  Erik tossed his hair back and shoveled a spoonful of succotash into his mouth. Half-masticated vegetables were in a repulsive mash as he answered. “They are.” He swallowed, “sedated, that is.”

  “Oh. That’s disconcerting.” I pushed my salad around with a fork.

  “Since we’re being honest with each other once again,” he took another large bite and spoke in muffled words, “you’re just coming down from being medicated too.” Finally swallowing, he added, “You knew I tranquilized you, but we gave you something else while you were out. It was a mood stabilizer, kind of. I mean, we’re trying to see how you replicate when forced into different states of mind.”