Marked

by Stephanie Arehart

  The first page was mostly blank, other than her name and a label of Project Chameleon. She quickly flipped the page. Behind the cover sheet was a thick stack of text-heavy documents, all containing the footer “Top Secret – Project Chameleon.”

  Jenna was overwhelmed by this wealth of information, impatient to know the whole truth all at once. She suppressed the urge to throw everything at Noah and have him read it for her. He watched her intently but didn’t try to look at the papers, letting her decide when to share what she learned.

  The Project Chameleon documents revealed the evolution of a secret endeavor. The President himself had established a task force to research claims against the Registry. Ironically, mainstream members of the Sub had managed to communicate their concerns about the validity of the Mark Theory and all related Registry functions. The task force eventually spawned a full project team, armed with a specific mission.

  The pages documented the charter for the project, key committee members, and minutes from every organized meeting over the span of fifteen years. According to the files, Project Chameleon started the year before Jenna was adopted, and her adoptive mother was one of the founding committee members.

  Disgusting. That must be how she always knew where I was. She stole me from my parents, then tracked me like an animal. Did they ever love me, or was it always just an experiment? What about my father? Did he even know?

  Jenna put the files down on her lap and closed her eyes, trying not to cry at the thought of her father betraying her. Noah sensed her emotions without knowing what she was learning. He rubbed her back lightly. She pulled from his strength and resumed reading.

  The documents went on to reveal the project activities. Project Chameleon sought out a hundred children, between the ages of two and six years old, for the study. There was a heavy vetting process involved in selecting the chosen subjects.

  Subjects. That’s what they called them. Us.

  The desired profile included children that had a variety of marks, all too young to understand their true birthright. After identifying and obtaining the subjects, birthmarks were removed and different ones were added. Half the population was reduced in circumstances, and the other half, including Jenna, had increased mark superiority.

  Each subject was assigned to a monitor, who’d stay close and observe them throughout their lifespan. They were to encourage the subjects toward their forged mark status and document the results. Some children were monitored by parents in the Program, others by close family friends.

  She found pages and pages of specific rules of engagement for dealing with the subjects, to maintain an objective viewpoint. Jenna could tell that the expensive long-term experiment was heavily scrutinized. Judy Andrews appeared to be a high-level government official with a lot of influence, as her name was immersed in virtually every page.

  Jenna felt sick to her stomach. She ran to the bathroom and stood there, hovering over the toilet, but nothing came out. She rinsed her face and patted it with a hand towel. Looking in the mirror now, she hardly recognized herself. All the stress and lies, so many lies. She could never go back to the old Jenna, that was certain. Noah silently stood behind her in the doorway, a look of genuine concern across his face.

  “They lied to me, Noah.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  “Everyone. The government, my parents, everyone. It’s all been one big lie,” Jenna pouted.

  Noah’s eyes watered with emotion. “I’m here for you.”

  “I’m in some kind of government experiment,” Jenna’s voice trembled as she spoke. “They took me from my parents when I was too little to remember, adopted me, and gave me a different mark. Then my fake liar mother just sat around and watched me to see how I would turn out. What they did is beyond evil.”

  Noah’s eyes were huge. He was in shock, and didn’t know how to comfort Jenna. “I, I didn’t know this kind of stuff really happened. I mean, I hear stuff in the Sub, but I never believed it.”

  “Everything we’ve been told our whole lives about the Mark Theory, it could be wrong. Or maybe it’s right. I haven’t gotten that far in the files. I just know they screwed with people’s lives.”

  “Do you want help?”

  Jenna nodded, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve. She felt as if her whole religion had just been disproven, leaving her exposed and bare, with absolutely nothing. Noah pulled a folder out of the bag and opened it, taking a deep breath.

  “So why’d they do it? Were they trying to learn how to control people?” he asked.

  “Supposedly they were investigating legitimacy claims from the Sub, hoping to prove the Mark Theory, best I can tell.”

  “This file is for someone else. Have you come across your file yet?” Noah asked.

  “No.” Jenna walked over to the bag and thumbed through, finding one labeled Ramona Christenson. With a huge sigh, she pulled it out and went back to the bed. Noah and Jenna both sat with crossed legs on opposite corners of the bed, facing each other.

  They laid their files out carefully on the bed, spreading out papers occasionally. Jenna’s folder was much thicker than the one Noah was looking at. They pored through the documents at a feverish pace, periodically sharing interesting tidbits with each other.

  “Tyler McGee was initiated at age three. Both his parents are committee members. He lives in Baltimore and currently goes to high school at Gilman. Already accepted to the legal program at Stanford. Originally a service mark.”

  “He traded up, like me,” Jenna said with a giggle. Noah gave her a look that said she should take things more seriously, so she stopped smiling. “How’s he doing?” she asked.

  “Pretty good so far. Good grades. No issues.”

  Jenna thought for a second. “His parents have a good incentive for him to use this as a ticket to a better life. I bet some parents aren’t so quick to defend the Program. Maybe someone whose kid was destined to be a lawyer, but is now lined up to be a landscaper?”

  “I think you’re right. This whole thing doesn’t seem like it could ever be objective.”

  “Maybe in my case,” Jenna said. “I mean, my parents aren’t really my parents. They have no vested interest in the outcome.”

  “True. Have you found anything else about your real parents?” Noah asked.

  “Just their names. Says they’re Terry and Jocelyn Christenson.”

  “We could try to find them,” he said wistfully.

  “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

  Jenna kept digging through the files until she came across one page that stopped her in her tracks. She stared at it in silence for a while before handing it to Noah. His brow furrowed as he stared at it.

  “Noah, I don’t know who to believe any more. My story changes almost daily, but this paper once and for all settles it. I was definitively born a murder mark. Could it get any worse?”

  “Let’s not overreact, Jenna. The picture in your file doesn’t even really look like you.” Noah countered her heightened anxiety by becoming extraordinarily calm.

  “It’s right here, Noah! These are actual pictures of my original murder mark, and the fake medical one they gave me in its place. There’s no more doubt. I’m a killer posing as a medical student!”

  “Calm down, Jenna. We aren’t even sure the Mark Theory—” he tried again.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down! You probably aren’t even safe with me. Who knows what I could do to you!”

  “You absolutely don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself,” he said.

  Jenna realized she was more upset about potentially losing Noah over all this turmoil than about the knowledge of her true pedigree. Though she wasn’t completely shocked by these findings, she wanted to know what it all meant. Maybe it was a reasonable explanation for why she’d always preferred to be somewhat of a loner, why she always had to try so hard in her studies, how she never got along with Vivian. Then an idea occurred to her. “Hey, I wonder if there’s a folder in th
ere for Vivian?”

  Noah grabbed the bag and pulled all the folders out. They each took half and indexed through them. Jenna stopped and brought one folder forward, causing Noah to pause and glance up at her. “Find her?”

  She shook her head slowly.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She handed the folder to him. “Noah, this one has your name on it.”

  He hesitantly took the folder from her and stared down at the label with his full name on it. Confusion washed over his face in an instant. Then he flung it open and dove into the pages. Jenna sat waiting for him to reveal what was inside, just as he’d done for her minutes earlier.

  He smiled and took his glasses off. “Well, I was in the Program too. My uncle’s on the committee. I was originally a carpenter mark, of all things.”

  “Are you okay with that?” Jenna asked.

  “I don’t have much choice, I guess. It doesn’t change who I am, though. And at least my parents really are my parents.”

  As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Jenna looked away, but he knew she was already crying. “I’m sorry, Jenna. That was stupid and insensitive.”

  “It’s fine. I need to come to terms with my past.”

  “When you’re ready, I’ll help you find your real parents. I mean that.”

  “And then what? Meeting my real parents isn’t going to change the fact that I was born to kill people.”

  “Okay, so we’re both different people than we thought we were yesterday, or all of our lives. Doesn’t matter. I still love you.”

  Jenna looked at him in amazement.

  “You don’t have to say it back,” he comforted her.

  “I love you too.”

  They kissed, cuddled in each other’s arms.

  *****

  The next morning, Jenna awoke first. There were still folders and papers scattered all over the bed, on the floor and the table. She stared hard at Noah, watching to see his chest moving until she knew for sure he was still alive.

  Is this my future now?

  Noah woke up and rolled over, looking at her with sleepy half-open eyes. “What’s our plan for today, beautiful?”

  “I don’t know. Now that we know everything, what do we do? How long can we stay here?”

  “Not sure. I’ll check with Chris.”

  He got up and headed toward the bathroom. “Taking a shower?” Jenna called.

  He stopped and turned back around to face her and smiled. “You know that I loved you before yesterday, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “And I still love you today?”

  She smiled and nodded again.

  “I feel even closer to you now, like we’re really connected. Like our destinies were set for us to meet each other and fall in love.”

  “Well, I know I love you,” Jenna said. “Not so sure about the destiny part. Our paths have been totally fabricated.”

  Noah frowned.

  “But I’m glad they were,” she said. “Maybe that’s the destiny you mean.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom, and she heard him turn on the shower. As she waited for him to finish, she brainstormed options for their future. Nothing seemed great. Then she had what felt like a brilliant idea.

  Jenna entered the steamy bathroom, pausing a second to listen to Noah humming softly in the shower. Then she ripped back the shower curtain. The sudden and unexpected movement caught Noah by surprise, and he nearly slipped.

  “Jesus, Jenna! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  She laughed heartily and smirked, handing him a towel. He accepted her offer and began drying off as she continued talking.

  “So I was thinking. We don’t have a lot to lose at this point, right?”

  “Depends on how you look at it,” he replied, still annoyed with Jenna’s entrance.

  “I think we should out the whole freaking thing! Really go down fighting.”

  He stared at her, trying to understand her motive for such a bold plan. “Okay, I’ll bite. How do we do that, exactly?”

  “I think we go public. Let’s take all this stuff and talk to a reporter, get them to air our story.”

  “Are you sure you really want to do this?”

  Jenna nodded.

  And thus, their course was set.

  Chapter 20

  They waited inside the abandoned garage where Chris had taken them. After hearing their request, he didn’t hesitate to connect them with a reporter from the Richmond news station. He’d even brought a small copier to their apartment so they could take copies of key documents before their secret meeting. The originals were secured back at the apartment, locked away for safekeeping. Jenna and Noah were well-prepared.

  Chris and a few other guys from the Sub were watching from a hidden vantage point, so Jenna felt relatively protected. Someone entered the door at the other end of the empty warehouse and walked slowly in their direction. She was an African-American woman in her early twenties, wearing a stylish yet professional business suit. The reporter approached, looking around nervously, which seemed strange to Jenna.

  What’s her problem? Surely reporters are asked to meet in crazy anonymous places all the time.

  She extended her right hand to Noah first, then Jenna, introducing herself as Maxine Shepherd. Jenna recognized her immediately as one of the reporters that had covered the campus killings. She shifted uneasily from the knowledge that this woman could turn her in to authorities at any minute. Maxine looked at both of them, but didn’t give off any vibes that she was there to help capture them.

  “So where do we do this?” Maxine asked.

  Noah walked toward the side wall and pointed at the stack of copied papers they’d brought. The documents were laid out on a tall counter, arranged in the order Noah wanted Maxine to see things. Everything solely focused on the Program, with nothing about specific participants. The last thing they wanted to do was expose others who might actually be enjoying their faux lives in blissful ignorance, like Jenna once did.

  Maxine read through the information, making various faces as she turned the pages. Occasionally she would gasp a little or say “oh my.” When she finished, she took a step back and looked intently at Noah and Jenna. “This is quite an interesting story. What do you want to do?”

  “What do you mean?” Jenna asked.

  “What exactly do you want me to do with this information?”

  “We want you to put it on the news, whatever you need to do to let everyone know what’s happened.”

  “And then what are you expecting to happen as a result?” Maxine had the calmest demeanor, especially in light of the shocking information she’d just been handed.

  Noah stepped in, as he could tell Jenna was getting agitated with her perception of the reporter’s resistance to help them. “We just want the truth to be told. That’s it.”

  “The story’s definitely juicy,” Maxine said. “I just want to manage expectations with both of you. The last thing I would want to do is exploit your personal stories just to get my own name out there. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be famous, but not at anyone’s expense.”

  “We don’t expect anything to change for either of us, if that’s what you want to hear,” Noah said.

  “Okay. I think we can definitely run this story, probably on Thursday,” Maxine replied.

  Jenna realized she wasn’t even aware what day of the week it was anymore.

  “What else do you need from us?” Noah asked.

  “I think you’ve given me more than enough information. Can I take these papers and make copies?” Maxine asked, already gathering them up.

  “Sure, we made those copies for you to take,” Noah said.

  “Would it be possible for us to speak on air?” Jenna blurted out.

  Maxine looked at Noah for guidance with her sudden request. He stood next to Jenna in a non-verbal show of support. Now it was the reporter’s turn to shift around nervously, unsure how to respond.

  �
��I’ll see what I can do,” she finally offered, though Jenna didn’t trust her sincerity.

  “Can we give you a video or something? You can just play it when you do the story,” Jenna said, wanting to make the reveal more personal for her mother.

  “You’re persistent. Let me just get out my phone and record a quick interview. Then we can chop it up in production and fit something into the package.”

  Jenna seemed happy with that offer. Maxine set her phone on a mini-tripod that she magically pulled from her small purse. They prepared near the counter under the bright light from the tiny camera phone, which gave off a creepy interrogation ambiance.

  Maxine asked a few generic questions to Noah, then to Jenna. The reporter allowed Jenna to discuss her personal experience, telling her story in her own words. As Noah shared his account, Jenna became entranced by the long shadows dancing behind them. She felt hypnotized, until Maxine snatched the phone off the counter and packed the tripod away in her purse.

  “All right, then. I think we have a lot of great footage. I appreciate both of you meeting with me and providing this confidential information.”

  “When did you say the story will air?” Noah asked as they walked back toward the door together.

  “I think this may be a prime-time story. But we need to edit, so I’m going to do my best to get it on tomorrow night.”

  After she left, Jenna smiled, feeling relaxed. Noah hugged her.

  “We did it,” he said as he kissed the top of her head.

  “Feels like the weight of the world’s been lifted.”

  *****

  Chris drove them back to their apartment for another night in hiding. On the way, they discussed alternatives for their next move. The Sub wanted to move them to a remote cabin in the Rockies, which seemed all right with Noah. Jenna asked if she could assume a new identity, and Chris agreed.

  I think I’d love to change my name to Vivian.

  They made sure the television was turned to the right channel all day, just to avoid missing the story if it aired earlier than promised. The evening news came and went without any mention, leaving Jenna feeling completely let down. They sat through another twenty-four hour period, anchored to the television set, waiting for their moment. Jenna was going stir-crazy and really wanted to take a walk, but Noah convinced her to wait a little longer. They ordered pizza and waited for the late-night news to come on.