The Pandora Project

by Heather A. Cowan

  “Of course not,” he says, “the van just won’t look out of place here. We might be here for a playdate or something. Now go back and grab what you need for a shower. Put it in the backpack from the large duffle.” He pulls up the armrest and I know he wants me to climb through. I drape myself over the backseat, struggling to reach the bags.

  “Can’t we open up the back?” I complain.

  “We can,” he says, “but I really like the view.”

  With my butt pointing straight up in the air, it is hard to jerk around to give him the evil eye, but I give it my best shot. He lets out a hearty laugh and gets out of the van. My angry façade slips quickly when I am unable to contain a snort.

  Once we both have what we need, John takes off down the street. We walk to the end of the block and take a left. He leads us through two more turns and walks to the end of a cul-de-sac. “Here we are,” he says as he confidently walks up the inclined driveway of a house with a ‘For Sale’ sign dug into the lawn.

  Noticing the realtors name on the sign I ask, “Won’t Al Dumas’ clients mind that we are showering in their house?”

  “Probably,” he says but continues to make his way up the drive. Like the obedient lap dog I have become, I follow him to the back door. Without missing a beat, John grabs the handle and slams his body against the door. Though he makes it look easy, his great strength is evident through the splintered wood surrounding the deadbolt and the doorknob. “After you,” he says, holding the door open for me.

  I might have protested a little if a breeze hadn’t kicked up right at that moment and I caught a whiff of myself. My need for a shower quickly overcame my reservations. “Don’t turn on any lights,” John says, “we don’t want to call any unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

  The house is devoid of any furniture. John must have picked this house because it could be weeks before anyone discovered we were here. It will be awkward if someone has scheduled an appointment for today to see it. They will definitely get more than they bargain for if they catch two naked teenagers squatting on the property. Naked because of the shower, not for any other reason.

  “You go first,” John says, gesturing to the hall that a bathroom is sure to be off of. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

  He’ll get no argument from me. My incredible desire to be clean outweighs any sense of balance or fairness. The bathroom is the first door off of the main room and I don’t hesitate. The hot water feels so divine I let it run over me as I take stock of the last couple of days. It is almost inconceivable all that has happened. The weight of events settles heavily on my shoulders and I realize, once again, I am exhausted.

  Not wanting to use all the hot water, I shake myself into action and finish my shower. Stepping out, I towel off, mentally sending a thank you to my father for thinking of everything and dress again. Balling my dirty clothes in my towel, I hurry to relieve John. He is standing in the kitchen, looking out the window facing the road.

  “Are we safe?” I ask, knowing we won’t ever be truly safe.

  “So far, so good.”

  “You’re up,” I say, jerking my thumb toward the bathroom.

  He surprises me by trailing his hand across my waist and kissing the top of my head as he walks past. The intimacy and the casualness of the action has my heart beating hard and my hands heating up. Get it under control, Paige. Taking up John’s position, I try to think of anything but the heat of his touch.

  There are so many things I need to learn to control, my reactions to John’s touch being just the tip of the iceberg. Taking my gloves off and resting my hands on the sink, I try to send the nervous energy that is forever buzzing around inside of me out through my fingertips.

  While the heat always seems so close to the surface when it is inconvenient, I have no luck bringing them to life on command. Closing my eyes, I envision all the times my hands have acted up recently. As I remember John kissing me after I gave him his powers I feel heat rush to my fingertips. I can see the light emitted from my hands even with my eyes closed. Smiling, I clear my mind and am rewarded with fading of the heat and the light.

  It isn’t just the pleasure of intimacy that turns my power on. The first manifestation of recent memory was when I was angry. Calling up anger isn’t hard. The foul image that I associate with Dr. Cox races across my mind and immediately my hands start to shake. The idea of my parents and our forced separation has them sparkling with a brilliant light. Unbidden, I see a picture of my mother tied to a chair and bleeding from a cut on the side of her head. The image is so clear and so sudden it sends an increasingly familiar pressure from my shoulders through my hands and destroys the sink beneath them.

  Blinking back the water that is spraying from the mangled pipes, I drop to my knees, trying to find the water shut off valve. I don’t realize John has come into the room until his hand closes over mine and together we turn the knob to stop the deluge of water.

  “What happened,” John asks as he pulls me into a hug.

  Not moving to hug him back but glad for his strength, I try to understand what just happened. Was that a vision, some sort of second sight, or just my fears expressing themselves through some worst case scenario? Do I tell John?

  “I was experimenting with my hands,” I say as I finally move to hug him back. He doesn’t pull away from the contact, in his case if it doesn’t kill him it really does only make him stronger.

  He pushes me just far enough away so he can see my face, keeping his arms around me, “Well, is this a successful experiment, or a failure?” he asks, smiling.

  Trying to laugh, I cover my face with my hands and my laugh quickly dissolves into tears. John pulls me to his chest again and rubs his hands gently down my back. Holding me until I regain my composure. “I’m just so scared,” I finally admit.

  “I know,” he whispers.

  “I’m scared for my parents. I’m scared for us. I’m scared of what I can do. I’m scared of what you can do. I’m scared for the future…the future that I have the power to unleash on the world.” My breath catches as I sigh, leaning into John because I am too tired to hold myself up.

  “We’re both soaked,” John says. He pulls me to the empty living room and pushes me down to a seated position. I watch unabashedly as he strips down to his boxers and a giggle escapes me as I realize he is wearing underwear that my father had packed for himself. It strikes me as hilarious that John is wearing my father’s underwear. John looks at me, confused and I can tell he is trying not to get offended. Deciding there is no way I could be laughing at his incredible physique, he shrugs his shoulders and lays his things out to dry.

  “Your turn,” he says, pulling me back to my feet. He gently pulls my shirt over my head and lays it beside his clothes. As he turns back to me, he hesitates. We haven’t reached a place in our relationship where we are close enough for him to reach for my jeans and I appreciate that he doesn’t assume to. My hands shake as I undo the button and try to peel back the soaking material that sucks to my skin.

  It’s just like a bathing suit, I try to assure myself as I stand there in my bra and underwear. What will I do if he tries anything? My whole life I have prepared for the day I will be a scourge on mankind, but never for the day I might find myself alone and half naked with a man unlike any other.

  John goes to his knees and pulls me down beside him. I take in a quick breath, completely aware of my state of undress. Looking into his eyes, I am shocked by the warmth that greets me. Smiling, he lies down and holds his arms out to me. I lie beside him and use his upper arm as a pillow.

  Thinking he will kiss me again, I close my eyes and turn his face up to him. His lips brush my forehead and he whispers, “Get some sleep. We can relax for a few hours.”

  Will I be able to sleep, snuggled against his beautiful body? My question is quickly answered as I close my eyes and fall into oblivion.

  Chapter 19

  A light pressure on my cheek wakes me up. It takes me a few moments to realize
it is John, running a fingertip down my face. “We need to get moving,” he says when I finally open my eyes.

  Arching my back to stretch, my stomach presses lightly against his and I am quickly reminded of how little clothing either of us have on. Not only does the pressure serve as a reminder, it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to the pit of my stomach and causes waves of heat to roll off my body. Smiling sheepishly, I apologize, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  Returning my smile and shifting both of our bodies so we can stand up he responds, “Don’t be, we should have thought of something like that earlier and we could have dried our clothes in no time.”

  “Great, add clothes dryer to my list of super powers…I’m sure to have my own movie in no time,” I grumble.

  Laughing, he tosses me my clothes and we both get dressed. “I am going to go make sure the car hasn’t been compromised. If everything looks kosher, I will be by to pick you up in just a few minutes. I will drive by, to let you know to be ready to run and then make a lap around the block. Be ready to jump in on my second lap around. If I don’t come back, wait until night fall and then…”

  He pauses, not really knowing what to say. My dependence on him has been so complete I’m not sure I could take care of myself. Without him or my father seeing to every detail of my life, I’d be lost. Never in my life have I felt so helpless, I have to assert myself and start standing on my own feet.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I interject, trying to sound lighthearted. “Worse comes to worst, I will create my own army and hunt Dr. Cox down myself,” I say as I wiggle my fingers.

  “I believe you would, Paige.” He laughs and pulls me near to brush his lips against mine. Just as I lean in for a longer kiss, he pulls away and is out the door. Instead of standing in the middle of the empty living room, wanting more, I gather all of our things and shove them into the backpack. I make sure there is no mess in the bathroom and return to the kitchen, waiting for the van to make its first lap.

  The floor is still flooded and I stand well away from the window to avoid getting my shoes any wetter than necessary. Guilt is starting to be my constant companion, how is this family supposed to sell their house with a hole where the kitchen sink is supposed to be? Where are my parents? Is the family that owns the van sitting in the parking lot of the Louisville Airport? I guess that all pales in comparison to the real question…will I bring about the end of the world? The guilt over that question has been eating at me my whole life, why should a couple of sinks and a minivan hold any sway over me?

  Thirty minutes later John finally makes his first pass on the house. Running out the back door, I pull the door shut behind me, but with both locks destroyed, nothing is going to provide much protection. I try to memorize the realtor’s number so I can call and report the damage if we ever get the chance. I only have to wait on the side of the house for a couple of seconds before John reappears and I scramble to the road to meet him.

  “Any problems?” I ask as I pull myself into the passenger side.

  “No, none that I could see. I ran around the adjacent blocks a few times and didn’t see any suspicious cars and no one seemed interested in the van…I’m going to remain optimistic.”

  My relief at not having to figure out my next move on my own and at our apparent safety had me feeling optimistic as well. The clock on the dashboard reads 3:37. I got a longer nap than I had dared hope for. I will probably need the energy to radiate my next victim…I mean friend.

  “Where are we meeting up with Asher? Do you know where he will be?”

  “He lives on post, and goes to school there, but we are going to avoid Fort Knox at all costs. I don’t have any ID and we wouldn’t be able to get through the gates anyway. Asher’s girlfriend goes to school in Elizabethtown and I am hoping to catch him picking her up from volleyball practice.”

  “John, are you sure you want to involve him? We both know how dangerous all this can be. Do we really want to suck anyone else into this mess?”

  He glances at me before answering, almost as if he is reassessing the situation. “Do I want to? No, Paige, of course I don’t want to endanger my best friend. Do I think it is a good idea? Do I think having another person on our side can possibly give us the upper hand? I sure hope so. I have to believe that we can somehow take on an evil genius who has figured out how to literally force evolution on the entire human population…having Asher with us somehow makes me think we can do it. I know it sounds crazy, but it also sounds right to me.” He shoots me a pleading look, begging me to understand.

  “You’re the one with the supercharged brain, so if you think this is what we need, I’m with you.”

  His smile warms my heart and he exhales a huge breath in relief. “Thank you,” he says softly.

  “Don’t thank me yet, we still have to convince Asher.”

  “No problem,” he smiles and picks up the pace a little bit to get us to the high school.

  *****

  The funniest thing about sitting in the parking lot of Elizabethtown High School is that the minivan isn’t out of place at all. There are several harried looking mothers fighting smaller kids, obviously waiting to pick up an older child from practice or a club of some sort. The sight of a girl clearly waiting for her boyfriend reminds me of Lexi and a wave of homesickness strikes me painfully. I can’t count the number of times she drug me to school to wait for Jake. What I wouldn’t give to be there now…or at home waiting for Dad to get home from work.

  John nervously glances around for the hundredth time. “What is bothering you more, being inactive or the thought of kidnapping Asher?” I ask.

  He sticks his tongue out at me, “A little bit of both. I don’t see anything out of place, do you?”

  Looking around, the only real action is one of the moms pulling a crying boy out of his car seat. She screams something at the other two children in the van and runs into the high school while the boy holds his privates and informs everyone in the parking lot how bad he has to pee. “Unless she is running in to get reinforcements,” I remark drily, “I’d say we are OK for now.”

  John laughs, but his heart isn’t in it. I sink further into the seat and fold my arms, content to people watch until Asher gets here.

  “That’s him,” John says as a blue Ford Explorer pulls into the parking lot. John turns the key in the ignition to fire up the van and slides into the space beside the Explorer, my window facing Asher’s. Asher glances in my direction, an easy smile on his face, and does a double take when he sees John waving.

  Rolling the window down, Asher exclaims, “John, what the…”

  “Get in the van, Asher,” John cuts him off.

  Asher looks at me uncertainly and then turns his attention back to John, “What is going on?”

  “Do you trust me?” John asks intensely.

  “Of course I do, but…”

  “Get in the van then,” John repeats.

  “What about Mel?” Asher stalls, “I can’t just leave her here with no ride. Hold on.” He rolls his window up and jumps out of the Explorer before John can stop him. He jogs over to the girl who caught my attention early. She clearly knows him and they talk shortly. I assume he is asking her to take Mel home. He jogs back and jumps into the back through the door John opened with the automatic opener.

  “Asher, Paige. Paige, Asher.” John says by way of introductions. Asher smiles politely and shakes his hand once through the air in a half salute, half wave. I wave shyly back.

  Asher is a wider, blonder version of John. Where I tried to pretend that John wasn’t very good looking the first time I met him, no one would ever think Asher was anything but beautiful. Where John was instantly muscled when I touched him, Asher has a body that has spent many, many hours in a gym. His blond hair seems almost white in contrast with his eyes that are so dark brown the pupil disappears in them. The juxtaposition of the dark and light is mesmerizing.

  “Does your dad still keep his boat at a mini-storage?” John asks.


  “He does, but what is going on? John, I’ve tried to find you for the past five months. What happened when your dad died? Where is your mom?” Asher looks ready to explode with questions and probably would have if John didn’t cut him off, yet again.

  “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Just be patient. Does the mini-storage have cameras?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the code?”

  Asher looks reluctant to provide any more information until John gives something in return, but gives in after the look John gives him through the rear view mirror. Poor Asher, I know exactly how he feels. John was equally enigmatic when he kidnapped me.

  Chapter 20

  The thrill of victory reverberates through Dr. Cox as Colonel Christian Mays walks through the door and stands at attention in front of the large desk Cox had appropriated for his use.

  Though a big man, the Colonel seems to shrink from the weight of the news he has come to deliver. “You were right,” he reports, his words short and clipped.

  Cox looks up at him condescendingly, “Yes, a by-product of my genius. What about in particular, Christian?”

  “They picked Asher up approximately twenty-five minutes ago.”

  “And can we expect your boy to play his part as well as his father?” Cox asks with a sneer.

  The Colonel tries not to flinch at Cox’s words, “We can.”

  “Get your men ready. Take her pathetic parents with you, you may need the leverage.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Colonel Mays moves quickly, trying to put as much distance between himself and the man who is orchestrating his life.

  “And Colonel?”

  “Yes?”

  “I will not be disappointed again.”

  “No, Sir.”

  Chapter 21

  “I’m going to leave you guys here,” John says when we reach a field a couple hundred yards away from the mini storage. His feet barely touch the ground as he races to the fence surrounding the storage units.