by Darrell Pitt
After that we move onto pushups and sit ups. Around about that time breakfast makes a return visit for me, Dan and Ebony. Chad takes a little longer to crack. It’s on the second run that he empties his stomach. Brodie makes it through everything unscathed.
I realize around about this time that Brodie has a natural advantage in all these exercises. Whereas the rest of us have powers that involve the manipulation of external elements, her power is purely physiological.
Damn.
We stop for lunch and this time the meal break is a far more leisurely affair. No-one speaks. Dan doesn’t eat anything. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him reject food. Even Chad barely touches a thing.
We all get separated after lunch. My personal trainer is a man named Mr Brown. He’s like Henderson, but a smaller and stockier version – if such a thing is possible. He’s dressed in a tracksuit like a personal trainer, but he looks like a military guy. He’s well versed in all my powers. He begins by getting me to produce shields of various sizes. Small. Large. Then he gets me to morph them into different shapes.
I move onto flying. He doesn’t get me to fly any great distances. Quite the opposite. He hones me in covering short areas, but doing it with skill. Sometimes I’m just hovering bare inches above the ground. At other times I fly upside down and do complete somersaults. After I’ve done this for an hour I remind him I’m capable of flying quite high.
“I’m well aware of that, recruit,” he informs me.
It seems he has either forgotten my name or doesn’t intend to use it.
“You need to polish your basic skills before you move onto advanced moves.” He gives me the closest thing to a smile I’m likely to see. “Baby steps, recruit. Baby steps.”
The day’s activities end with me creating air weapons. First I make balls and throw them. Then I move onto darts. In the last hour he shows me pictures of a Japanese throwing star called a shuriken and gets me to create and throw them at targets.
“So when do I get a break?” I ask him.
“You can relax when I say you can,” he replies, smiling.
That’s not a pleasant smile.
By the time I head back to the facility for dinner I’m just about falling over my own feet. I’m physically and mentally exhausted. I stumble into the dining room and the catering attendants start piling food in front of me. The others look the same. Poor Dan looks like he’s about to pass out. Ebony looks ill. Even Chad looks tired.
Brodie…well, what should I say?
“How was your day?” she asks me brightly, throwing back food like she hasn’t eaten for three days.
“Great…great…”
“Feel like a run after dinner?” she suggests. “Nothing like a quick ten mile jog to polish off a perfect day.”
She’s so evil.
After dinner we have free time. For every one of us, even Brodie despite her suggestion of another run, free time equals sleep time. We get shown the location of an entertainment room with a wide-screened television. There’s even a games room with the latest computer hardware, but no-one shows the slightest interest.
Later, I remember climbing into my pajamas. I remember falling into bed. I remember closing my eyes.
I don’t remember anything after that.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’d like to say the following week gets easier.
It doesn’t.
There are some improvements. The showers are still three minutes long and we get better at jumping in, scrubbing ourselves raw and climbing out to make room for the next person. We learn to eat less for breakfast, more for lunch and finish with a large dinner. As far as everything else goes, it’s still a nightmare.
The physical regime is incrementally increased each day. The run is increased by only a few hundred feet, but you know about it. Then there are more sit ups and pushups. Mr Henderson seems to only know three words – faster, harder and faster.
Okay, that’s two words, but you get the idea.
Even the afternoons spent honing our skills become a chore. Every day it gets harder. Every day it’s more demanding. As soon as I master one skill, Mr Brown gets me to move onto something else.
After a few days he gets me to start combining my skills. I have to stay in flight, while creating a barrier as I throw invisible balls at a moving target. The whole thing gives me a headache.
Finally he starts me off on speed and distance trials. He gets me to go straight up as fast and as high as possible. It turns out to be the one single highpoint of the training. He fits me out with a small device that registers height and speed. I have to wear a special suit to keep me warm. In addition, he teaches me a method to continue breathing at high altitudes.
The first time I do it I err on the side of caution. By the time I return to Earth, Brown is waiting for me with a frown on his face.
“You call that fast?” the Mr Brown asks. “I want that sound barrier broken, recruit.”
“Yes, sir!”
I take flight again and give it all I’ve got. This time I go so high the sky starts to turn an indigo shade of blue. This time when I return to base Mr Brown is looking at a small hand held data pad.
“You broke Mach One today,” he informs me. “Tomorrow we’ll try for Mach Two.”
On the eighth day I stumble into the dinner hall and the catering assistants start the evening ritual of piling food before us. I have to give The Agency credit for one thing. They know how to build a healthy body. I have muscles I never knew existed. I have also learnt the gentle art of running without vomiting.
Hey, that’s a good thing.
During dinner, Chad keeps on trying to catch my eye. When the catering assistants return to the kitchen he leans across the table to me.
“We need to talk,” he says.
“About what?”
He eyes the kitchen staff suspiciously. “Later.”
As we leave the hall I make certain I lag behind with Chad. We find a quiet recess leading off one of the corridors. I wonder why he drags me in here until I realize there are no cameras covering this part of the facility. Just about every square inch of The Agency is monitored.
Even then, he looks around carefully for listening devices.
“Okay,” he says finally. “I think we can talk.”
“What’s this all about?”
He leans close. “It’s about this place. It’s Stalag Thirteen! It’s a nightmare. I’m getting out of here.”
“You must be joking.” I shake my head. “This place is more secure than Fort Knox. And what about Ebony?”
“I’m not leaving forever,” he says. “I just need to get out of here for twenty-four hours.”
“You’re mad,” I tell him.
“I want you to come too.” His mouth turns into a smile. “I can’t party on my own. There must be a town around here. We can get some booze. Listen to some music.”
“No way!”
“What are you? A saint?”
“I just don’t want to get into trouble!”
“Get a life!” He pokes me in the chest. “This place is run by aliens and mad scientists. They’re not in control of our lives. We are.”
“And what about the poison capsules they inserted into our bodies?”
“They’re not going to kill us for just blowing off some steam.”
I turn my back on him. “I’m going to bed.”
Neither of us speak as we make our way back to the dorm rooms. Dan looks at us curiously.
“What were you guys talking about?” he asks.
“Nothing!” Chad snaps.
We get ready for bed and turn the lights out. At first I lie awake and stare at the ceiling. My eyes stray to the clock. I don’t want Chad to screw everything up for all of us. Despite the hardships of the last week, I know my powers are stronger and more refined by being here than if I had been doing this alone for a year.
My eyes grow sleepy as I stare at the clock.
10:00pm.
>
Darkness.
My eyes slowly creak open and I realize it’s still night. This is the first time I’ve woken without the lights snapping to attention since we started here. At first I’m confused. I have no idea what’s going on. Why aren’t I asleep?
Then I hear the muffled sound of clothing in the dark.
Chad.
I climb out of bed and fumble around. I turn on a light. Chad already has his clothing on and is pulling on shoes.
“Hey amigo,” he says cheerily. “Coming out to play?”
“You’re insane,” I hiss. “You’re just going to get all of us in trouble.”
“Are you coming with me or not?”
I sit on the edge of the bed and stare down at the floor. This is a stupid idea. We need to be getting ready to take on Typhoid. Going out to party is insane. However, there’s a nagging sensation in the back of my brain. I haven’t really taken too kindly to being a prisoner here. The image of Mr Brown telling me we can have a break when he decides…
Look, I tell myself. How bad can it be? Even if we get caught we’ll just make light of it and tell them we’ll be good boys from now on. Besides, they need us more than we need them.
“Okay,” I nod. “I’m coming with you.”
“Good man!” Chad just about punches the air.
Dan stirs at that moment and sits up. “I’m showering first.”
“Go back to sleep,” I say.
He does. I drag my gear on and we make our way to the door. Chad peeks out. A few seconds later I hear a low crackling sound.
“Okay,” he enters the passageway. “Follow me.”
I wonder about the camera. It turns out he’s burnt the wires through from a distance. Shaking my head, I follow him down the hallway. I’m already regretting my decision to follow him. This is stupid. We get to the next cross passage and he repeats the same action.
“Where to now?” I ask.
“There are stairs leading upwards from here,” he says. “They’re the emergency exit.”
“How do you know?”
“You think I’m stupid? I checked them earlier.”
We enter the stairwell and I spy a camera half way up on one of the walls. I grab Chad’s arm.
“Leave this one for me.”
The cameras are on a pivot mount. I urge the air to push the camera to point at the wall. We hurry up the stairs. There’s one more camera just before we reach the exit. I deal with this one too. Within minutes we’re pushing on the exit door.
We step outside into the cool, clear night and look up at the sky. There are a million stars looking back down at us. Chad was an idiot for suggesting this, but I can’t deny I love being out in the open again.
I take a deep breath and let it out.
Free at last.
The wind churns in the trees. Then I realize it’s not the wind. It’s more rhythmic than that. Like a machine. The darkness comes to life with a spotlight stabbing the ground from the sky, blinding both of us.
I realize it’s attached to a helicopter.
“Put your hands up!” a voice commands from above. “You are under arrest!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Take my word for it. Being in jail is no fun. After being taken into custody by some thickset guards, we were handcuffed and black bags were placed over our heads. Chad tried to protest, but was cuffed about the head for his complaints.
I remained silent.
We could have fought our way out of the situation, but that would have simply made things worse. Besides, we had no desire to harm any of The Agency staff. We just wanted to have a few minutes of freedom.
After our arrest, we were taken to a cell and the bags and handcuffs were removed. The first thing Chad did after we landed in the cell was yell at the retreating backs of the guards.
“Just go to sleep,” I tell him.
Probably the worst thing about the cell was that the lights stayed on all night. The second worst thing about it was the beds. I’d thought the dorm beds were the hardest things you could possibly sleep on until we ended up in jail.
After a lot more grumbling under his breath, he does. For me, sleep does not come so easily. I dream about being in the room with Ravana. His constant questions about The Agency. Then I dream about him burning on the roof of the building as we made our escape. I see him pounding the retaining wall of the building.
Pounding and pounding and -.
Someone is hitting the bars of our cell. I wake up to see Brodie on the other side. Her hair is uncombed. She looks tired and harassed. Her condition doesn’t improve any upon seeing me awake.
“Do you know how long I’ve been standing here?” she asks.
“Ages?” I guess.
“I’ve been calling your name for the last ten minutes as well as hitting the bars with this cup!”
I notice she has a metal mug in her hand. “You’re kidding,” I say. “They really give those things to prisoners?”
“What the hell do you think they drink from? Their hands?” She shakes her head in disbelief. “What on Earth were you thinking? What made you do this?”
“That was me,” a voice comes from Chad’s bunk. He blearily raises his head and regards both of us through half open eyes. “I insisted that Mr Goody and I break out together.”
“I should have expected as much,” Brodie folds her arms. “And can you tell me why?”
“Because I don’t like to take orders!” Chad says, now fully awake and annoyed. “I refuse to be treated like a prisoner. I’m a citizen of Norway! I shouldn’t even be in the United States.”
“You’re not a prisoner,” Brodie says, then realizes what she’s just said. “Well, you are now. But you weren’t before.”
“I was,” he argues. “We all are. They have no right to keep us locked up here twenty-four hours a day while they work us like animals.”
“Look,” Brodie says. “I’m an Australian. Dan’s from somewhere in China. Obviously The Agency doesn’t adhere to international boundaries.”
“Or respect them!” Chad snaps.
“I know the last week has been tough,” she says.
“Really?” Chad lifts an eyebrow.
“Okay. It’s been really tough. Still, there’s a mission to carry out and we’ve got to -.”
“Mission?” Chad explodes. “I don’t recall signing up for any damn mission! I want to see the paperwork!”
A guard appears at Brodie’s side. “It’s time, Miss. These boys have got another visitor.”
She casts a helpless look at us. “Don’t do anything silly.”
I glance over at Chad. I don’t think we can promise anything.
No sooner does Brodie leave than Twelve appears. It’s the first time we’ve seen him since we arrived. He still doesn’t look like an alien, but now he definitely resembles an ogre.
“I’m very disappointed,” he begins. “You boys signed an agreement and now you’ve broken -.”
“I don’t recall signing any agreements,” Chad interrupts.
Twelve doesn’t look like he often gets interrupted. “Take my word for it. You signed an agreement and now you’re going to keep to it.”
“What’re you going to do?” Chad asks. “Force us?”
“If we have to,” Twelve says quietly. “Typhoid is not the only one able to coerce difficult subjects.”
I think back to the torture room and Ravana and his instruments. My stomach turns over at the memory. I feel light headed and dizzy as the rage builds up inside me. Without realizing it, I’m on my feet in a second.
“You will not threaten us!” I snap.
Twelve’s eyes widen in surprise as his mouth becomes a thin line. “We don’t want to threaten -.”
“I’m out of here!” Chad interrupts. “I’m not taking orders from some alien weirdo!”
There’s a buildup of heat in the room. I see a ball of fire in Chad’s hand. It grows red hot. Then white hot. Twelve steps back. To his credit he shows
not a shred of fear. Chad swings around and throws the ball of fire at the wall behind us. There’s an enormous explosion. Bricks and mortar fly in all directions. Even I’m showered in it.
Chad grabs my arm. “Come on.”
Then we’re running down a corridor before I know what’s happening. This is all occurring so fast. Alarms start blaring. Two guards appear and I knock them over with a blast of air. We spot a couple more in another corridor and Chad blocks their passage with a block of ice.
We find ourselves in the area known as The Cavern where all the strange aircraft and equipment is stored. Personnel are running in all directions, but they obviously haven’t been informed as to the nature of the threat.
We rush onto the main concourse. The easiest way out of here would appear to be up and out. I remember Doctor Sokolov telling us not to show our powers to the other personnel, but all bets are off. I point up at the doors designed to allow the aircraft to exit and focus on pushing them apart. A week ago they probably wouldn’t have moved. Even now I am only able to separate them a few feet.
Through the gap I can see daylight. Grabbing Chad, we fly towards the breach. At the same time I throw a barrier up around us. I do it just in time. Someone starts shooting, but none of the bullets find their target.
We land on the grass outside the facility. Guards start appearing from the woods. They have us surrounded in seconds. All I need to do is take to the skies and I can have us out of here in seconds.
Chad grabs my arm. “What’re you waiting for? Let’s move!”
I shake my head. This has all gone horribly wrong. These people may not be our friends, but neither are they our enemies.
“No,” I tell him. “This is not right.”
“What do you mean? We need to -.”
I turn to him. “Typhoid intends to destroy a city with a nuclear weapon. Do you want to allow that to happen?”
“Well, no. But -.”
“Our place is here,” I tell him firmly.
Helicopters are approaching on all sides. By now we’re surrounded by about a hundred guys with machine guns. There’s no doubt in my mind we could probably take them out, but I doubt we could do it without hurting people. Not without maybe killing someone. And whose side would we be on then?
