The Praegressus Project: Part One

by Aaron Hodges

  When they finally shut off the water, the boy collapsed to the floor of his cage, gasping for breath. He shuddered, spitting up water, but the men were already moving towards Liz, and she had no more time to consider his predicament.

  She raised her hands as the men stopped in front of her cage. “No need for that, boys. I’m already clean, see?” She did a little turn, her cheeks warming as she sensed their eyes on her again.

  The men chuckled, but shook their heads. “Sorry girl, boss’s orders.”

  They pulled the lever before Liz could offer any further argument.

  Liz gave a strangled shriek as the ice-cold water drove her back against the wire of the cage. She lifted her hands in front of her face, fighting to hold back the water, but it made little difference against the rush. Gasping, she choked as water flooded her throat, and sank to her knees. An icy hand gripped her chest as she inhaled again, turning her back to protect her face. The power of the water forced her up against the wire, and she gripped it hard with her fingers, struggling to hold herself upright.

  When the torrent finally ceased, Liz found herself crouched on the ground with her back to the men. She did not turn as a coughing fit shook her body. An awful cold seeped through her bones as she struggled for breath. Water filled her ears and nose, muffling the words of the men until she shook her head to clear it.

  Tightened her hold on the wire, Liz used it to pull herself to her feet. Head down, she gave a final cough and faced the room.

  The men were already returning the hose to its panel in the wall. They spoke quietly to themselves, but fell silent as the hinges of the door squeaked again. Liz looked up as a group of men and woman entered the room. There were five in total, three men and two women, and each wore a white lab coat with black pants. Four of them carried electronic tablets, their heads bent over the little screens, while the fifth approached the guards. They straightened as he drew up in front of them, their grins fading.

  “Are our latest subjects ready for processing?” the man asked, his voice cool.

  One of the guards nodded. “Yes, Doctor Halt. We’ve just finished hosing them down.”

  A smile twitched at Halt’s lips. “Very good,” he dismissed the men with a flick of his hand and turned to face the cages.

  Pursing his thin lips, Halt moved closer, pacing around Liz’s cage in a slow circle. His eyes did not leave her as he moved, and eventually she was forced to look away. He moved like a predator, his grey eyes studying her like prey, eyeing up which piece of flesh to taste first. Wrapping her arms around herself, Liz fixed her eyes to the concrete and tried to ignore him.

  When Liz looked up again, Halt had moved on to studying the young man in the other cage. But her fellow captive was ignoring him. Instead, he stared at the group of doctors, his brow creased with confusion, as though struggling to recall a distant memory.

  “You!” the boy shouted suddenly, slamming his hands against the wire. “You were at my house! What am I doing here? What have you done with my mother?” His last words came out as a shriek.

  Halt glanced back at the group of doctors. “Doctor Fallow, would you care to explain why the subject knows your face?”

  The woman at the head of the group turned beet red. Biting her lip, she replied. “There were complications during his extraction, Halt,” her voice came out soft, but Liz sensed her defiance behind them. “I had to enter before the subject was unconscious, or we risked casualties amongst the extraction team.”

  Halt eyed her for a moment, apparently weighing up her words before he nodded. “Very well.” He turned back to the cages. “No matter. Elizabeth Flores, Christopher Sanders, welcome to the Praegressus Facility.”

  Cold fingers gripped Liz by the throat, silencing her voice. They knew her last name. That meant they knew who she was, where she came from. The last trickle of hope slipped from her heart. It was no mistake she had found herself here.

  Christopher was not so easily quelled. “What am I doing here? You can’t hold us like his, I know my rights–”

  Halt raised a hand and her neighbour fell silent. Moving across, Halt stood outside Christopher’s cage and stared through the wire. “Your mother has been charged with treason.”

  Colour fled the boy’s face, turning his white skin a sickly yellow. He swallowed and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Tears crystallised at the corner of his eyes, but he blinked them back before they could fall.

  Biting her tongue, Liz watched the two stare at one another. She was impressed by Christopher’s resilience. He might speak with an urban accent, but it seemed he possessed more courage than half the boys she’d once known in her boarding school. If his mother had been convicted of treason, it meant death for her and her immediate family. A pass was given for the elderly, but there was no such exception for children…

  Swallowing, Liz eyed the group still lingering behind Halt. If that was the reason Christopher was here, she didn’t like her chances. She had always guessed the authorities might come after her and had done her best to avoid detection. With cameras on every street corner, she had been forced to keep to the countryside she knew so well. Even then, she had always known it would only be a matter of time before someone found her.

  Even so, she wanted to find out how much they really knew about her.

  CHAPTER 5

  “What about me?” Liz croaked. “My parents are gone. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Halt’s eyes turned towards her and his scowl deepened. “Elizabeth Flores.” He paused, looking her up and down with a sneer. “Vagrant, beggar, fugitive. You have escaped justice for long enough. After what your parents did, did you really think we would not come for you? That we would not hunt you to the ends of the earth?”

  White-hot fire lit Liz’s chest, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and swallow the screams building in her throat. She wanted to deny the accusations, to curse him and the others, but she knew there was no point. She had tried that once before, when they had first come for her. But one look at her ragged clothes, at the curly black hair and olive skin, and they had dismissed her words as lies.

  Her shoulders slumped as Halt looked away. Wrapping her arms around herself, she staggered to the back of the cage and sank to the floor. She wasn’t giving up, not yet, but she knew when silence offered the better course of action.

  Unlike her fellow prisoner.

  “What is this place?” Christopher’s voice was soft, as though if he whispered, the answer might offer some sort of mercy.

  Liz glanced across at him, and watched as he lost his battle with the tears. Despite herself, a pang of sympathy twitched in her chest. She knew what it was like, to lose her parents. She would not wish it on anyone.

  “This is your redemption.” Halt spread his arms, including them both in the gesture. “This is your chance to redress the crimes of your parents, to contribute to the betterment of our nation. The government has seen fit to offer you both a reprieve.”

  “How generous of them,” Liz muttered from the floor.

  She shivered as Halt’s eyes found hers. They flashed with anger, offering a silent warning against further interruptions. Pursing her lips, she gripped the wire tighter. It cut into her fingers as she willed herself to contain her anger.

  “My mother was not a traitor,” came Christopher’s response. “How dare you–”

  Halt waved a hand and the guards who still waited at the rear of the room came to life. They marched past the silent group of doctors and approached Chris’s cage. One produced a key and a second later they had the door open. Moving inside, there was a brief scuffle as they tried to get their hands on the boy. One staggered back from a blow to the face, before the other managed to use his bulk to pin Christopher to the wire.

  When they both had a firm grip on him, they hauled him out and forced him to his knees in front of Halt. The doctor loomed over the boy, his arms folded. He contemplated Chris with eyes empty of compassion, like a spider studying a fly
trapped in its web. Liz watched on in silence, hardly daring to breathe as Halt nodded to the guards.

  The one on the left drew back his boot and slammed it into Christopher’s stomach. He collapsed without a sound, his mouth wide, gasping like a fish out of water. A low wheeze came from his throat as he rolled onto his back and strained for breath. It came in a sudden rush, before the boot crashed into his side, almost lifting him off the ground.

  A scream tore from the young man’s throat as he rolled into a ball. But the other guard only grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hauled him back to his knees. The two of them looked back at Halt then, waiting for further instruction.

  Smiling, Halt approached, one finger tapping idly against his elbow. Softly, he continued as though nothing had changed. “As I was saying, you have been given a reprieve, but the crimes of your parents still stand, as does the sentence on your lives. That makes you dead in the eyes of the state. You are no one, nothing but what we permit you to be. If you’re lucky, you might find yourselves worthy of our work here at the Praegressus Facility.” Liz shivered at the name. It sounded Latin, though she had no idea what it might mean. “More likely though, you will die. But know at least your deaths will have advanced the interests of our fine nation.”

  Chris still knelt on the ground between the guards, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Halt eyed him, as though weighing whether his words had sunk in, before continuing.

  “In the meantime, you will come to respect and obey your betters,” Halt spoke. “Soon, you will be shown to your new accommodation. But first, I want to be sure you understand the gravity of your situations. Christopher Sanders, why are you here?”

  On the ground, Chris looked up at the doctor. His eyes shone, but no tears fell. Turning his head to the side, he spat on the concrete and scowled. “She’s a terrible cook,” he coughed, then continued, “but I’d hardly say that makes her a traitor–”

  The guard’s fist caught him on the side of the head and sent him crashing to the floor. A boot followed, and for the next thirty seconds the room rang with the thud of hard leather boots on flesh, interspersed with Christopher’s muffled cries. When the guards finally pulled back, the young man lay still, a low groan the only sign of life.

  “Get him up,” Halt commanded.

  Together the guards hauled the boy back to his knees. This time Halt leaned down, until the two of them were face to face. “Well?”

  Christopher’s shoulders sagged and his head bowed. A soft sob came from his mouth, and for a second she thought he would not speak. Then he nodded, and a whisper followed. “Okay,” he croaked, “okay... My mother… was a traitor.” He looked up as he finished, a spark of flame still burning in his eyes. “Does that make you happy?”

  The doctor eyed him for a long while, as though measuring up his admission with the show of defiance. Finally he nodded, and the guards grabbed Christopher by the shoulders and muscled him back into the cage.

  The clang as the door closed sent a thrill of ice down Liz’s spine. She stared down at the floor, sensing the eyes of the room on her, and waited for Halt to address her.

  “Ah, Elizabeth Flores,” his voice snaked its way around her, raising the hackles on her neck. “You have run for so long. Surely you at least must admit to your parents’ crimes?”

  Looking up, Liz found the cold grey eyes of the doctor watching her. She suppressed a shudder and quickly looked away. Taking slow, measured breaths, she beat down the rage burning in her chest. She took one step, then another, until she reached the front of her cage. Leaning against the wire, she looked down at the doctor and raised an eyebrow.

  “What would you like me to admit too?” she whispered.

  Halt took a step back from the cage, but she did not miss the way his eyes lingered on her. She gave a little smirk as he growled. “Disgusting girl,” he spat. “Admit that your parents were monsters - that you aided them, that for years you have run from the law, hiding from justice.”

  A tremble of rage raced through Liz. She bit her lip. Closing her eyes, she sent out a silent prayer for the souls of her parents. Their faces drifted through her mind – smiling, happy, at peace. They had been kind and sweet, only ever wanting for her to be happy, to have a better life than the one they’d lived. For years they had scraped and saved their every penny, so they could send her to boarding school. The day she’d been accepted, she had never seen them so happy. And for three years, she had suffered the taunts of her peers in that school to keep them that way.

  But they were long gone now; they did not care what was said about them. There was no need for Liz to suffer now, to bleed for their memory. Not now, when there was no hope of escape. But silently she made a vow to herself, to bide her time and conserve her strength, until an opportunity showed itself.

  When she opened her eyes again, she found the cold grey eyes of Halt looking back, and smirked.

  “Fine, I admit it. My parents were monsters. What of it?”

  She almost laughed as the doctor’s face darkened, an angry red flushing across his cheeks. He clenched his fists and made to approach the cage before stopping himself. Flashing a glance over his shoulder at their audience, he shook his head and smiled.

  “Very good,” he eyed the two of them. “So, we understand one another.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Chris gripped the wire of his cage as Halt eyed the two of them. Clamping his mouth shut, he ignored the voice in his head that screamed for answers. His jaw and back ached where the guards had struck him, and he was not eager to repeat the experience. The ugly thugs were grinning at him now, as though daring him to give them another chance. Instead, he bit his tongue and waited to see what came next.

  His mind was still reeling, struggling to put together the pieces of his scattered memories. Images from the night flashed through his mind – the Chead on the television, the men in his house, his mother falling.

  Ice wrapped around his throat as Halt’s words twisted in his mind.

  Traitor.

  A tremor ran through him and he suppressed a sob. The sentence for treason was death. Often just the accusation of such a crime was enough. And now his mother had been taken, stolen away by the woman in the white coat.

  Holding his breath, Chris struggled with his fear, his terror that she might already be gone. That he might now be alone, an orphan in a harsh, unforgiving world.

  With a low moan, Chris took a great, shuddering breath and shook his head. That was the least of his problems. Whatever his mother’s fate, he could do nothing for her now, trapped in this cage.

  Opening his eyes, he looked across as Halt spoke. “Now that we have an understanding, we must prepare you for the project.” A thin smile spread across his lips. “Take off your clothes.”

  A chill spread through Chris’s chest as Halt folded his arms. Behind him, the guards shifted, edging close, wide grins splitting their faces. A sharp intake of breath came from the other cage, but otherwise the girl did not move.

  Chris shrank back from the wire. “Why?”

  Halt took a step forward. “Now, Christopher, I had hoped we had moved past this. The dog does not question his master when he is told to sit.”

  Clenching his fists, Chris shook his head. His eyes travelled past Halt, to the audience of doctors. They lingered on the face of the woman, the doctor called Fallow. “This isn’t right,” he breathed.

  Letting out a long sigh, Halt waved the guards forward. They approached the cage, shoulders hunched, moving with a cold proficiency. Chris hesitated as they reached the door and fumbled with the latch. Then he began to unbutton his shirt, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

  Outside the guards paused, looking back at Halt in question. The doctor nodded curtly, and they retreated to their positions behind him.

  In the cage, Chris quickly stripped off his clothing piece by piece, shivering as the icy breath of the air conditioner brushed across his skin. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck as he pulled o
ff his last strip of clothing and tossed it to the floor. Turning sideways, he bowed his head, struggling to cover himself.

  Then, reaching up he unclipped the chain that still hung around his neck. It came away easily, the little pocket watch falling into his hand. He clenched it in his fist, a tremble of grief washing through him. Flicking open the metal catch, he looked at the faces of his mother and father, at their kind smiles, and then closed it again.

  Struggling to hold back his tears, he placed the pocket watch gently, reverently on his pile of clothes.

  Standing, he felt the eyes of the doctors roaming over his naked flesh, examining him, seeking out his every secret. A deep sense of helplessness rose in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him. Cheeks flushed, he stared hard at the ground, fighting to ignore the world.

  “Very good, Christopher,” Halt’s voice was patronising, and Chris almost choked on the shame that rose in his throat, “and you, Elizabeth?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Chris caught movement from the other cage. Turning his head, he watched as Elizabeth approach the front of the cage. Her lips were pulled into a smirk, but her blue eyes flashed with a barely concealed anger. She pressed herself against the wire and stared across at Halt.

  “Come and get me,” she growled, her voice threatening.

  Chris’s eyes widened. After her earlier acquiescence, he had not expected her to resist.

  In front of the cages, Halt gave a slow shake of his head. “Bring her,” he hissed.

  The guards marched passed him and yanked the door to the cage open. Elizabeth retreated from the door, watching as the first of the men pushed their way inside. Then, with a wild shriek, she leapt. At maybe one hundred and twenty-five pounds, she was dwarfed by the guard. Even so, her sudden attack caught him by surprise and sent him tumbling backwards into his comrade.

  As the two of them went down in a heap, Elizabeth leapt for the door. She made it over the threshold before the first guard managed to stagger upright. His arm swung out, catching her by the leg, and she slammed into the concrete outside the cage. With another screech, she kicked out with her free leg, catching the guard in the face. He gave a muffled curse, but held on.