by JL Spelbring
The older man’s mouth puckered. “Oh, really.”
“She’s from The Center. They’ll come for her.”
Doc sat in the chair Rein had abandoned and leaned over with his hands clasped in front of him. “Are you part of a search team?”
Skeptical, Ellyssa didn’t answer.
The doctor patted her hand. This time she didn’t withdraw. “Hon, no one is going to hurt you. We have to know.”
Rein paced behind the chair where the doctor sat, glowering at her as if she were a dangerous animal, worthy to be locked away in a cage. They had no clue how dangerous she could be. “She says she isn’t,” he interrupted.
Doc flashed the familiar smile she found herself growing used to. “Good. Why are you here?”
“She says she escaped.”
Doc tossed Rein a look over his shoulder. “Would you let her speak?”
Rein’s mouth popped open. Fighting back some remark dangling on the edge of his tongue, he pressed his lips together and folded his arms over his chest.
Ellyssa’s eyes moved from the towering male to the soft face of the one who took care of her. “I escaped,” she confirmed.
“Escaped? What do you mean? Were you in trouble?”
Her head felt cloudy, and the rush of words wanting to escape jumbled in her mind. She shook her head. “Not exactly,” she uttered.
Doc took her hand and, even surprising herself, she let him. He didn’t pose a threat, and his touch was warm, gentle…pleasing.
“It’s okay. Take your time.”
Ellyssa nodded.
“Why did you come here?”
“I was called,” she mumbled.
“By who?”
Her eyelids felt so heavy. Her mind whirled. “A man with dark hair.”
“What was his name?”
She felt herself drifting. “I do not know. He was special.” Her eyes opened to the doctor.
“Special?” The voice sounded far away.
“Please.”
“One more question. What’s your name?”
“Ellyssa.”
His grin broadened. “Nice to meet you, Ellyssa. My name is Mathew. Everyone calls me Doc.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Get some sleep.”
She heard the soft scraping of the wheels as the doctor stood. “Come with me,” he whispered to Rein. Light steps stopped at the doorway. Whispering voices reached her ears.
“We can’t keep her here. It’s too dangerous,” Rein said.
“She’s still not ready to move. Besides, she might have information we need.”
There was a long pause, and she started to sink into darkness. Rein’s deep whisper stirred her.
“Do you think she was talking about Jeremy?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Who was Jeremy? A vision of the dark-haired man being carried away by the police wavered with a dream-like quality.
Shuffling footsteps went into the hallway and faded down the corridor. The doctor lingered at the entrance for a moment, before she followed his distinct sound to the desk. The chair sighed when he sat. The whisper of pages flipping drifted over and lulled her to sleep.
14
The town of Deepwater looked just like the other five abandoned settlements Angela had searched. Weathered wood and brick buildings. Jagged shards of glass clung to window frames. The few remaining doors hung from rusted hinges.
Angela walked along the brittle red bricks that had once served as a sidewalk. She stepped carefully over the obstacle course of jagged edges and broken chunks. The last thing she needed was an injury.
“Detective Petersen,” Dyllon yelled from behind her.
She turned as the captain jogged up to her. Of course, grinning.
“What can I do for you, Captain?”
“Dyllon.”
“Fine.” She sighed. “Dyllon.”
The captain’s smile widened, and Angela felt elated while her stomach cringed at the same time. “Good news. We have a lead.”
“Where?”
“Over there. The dogs picked up her scent.” He turned and pointed toward an old store.
To Angela’s horror, members of the team, all just ill-prepared area police with their green uniforms, were entering the building, carrying equipment, stomping all over the evidence. “What are they doing?”
Dyllon’s brow bunched, as if confused by her question. “Their jobs.”
Finally, the break she’d been waiting for, and his people were in there contaminating the site. She couldn’t believe the stupidity. “Why would you have them go in there before informing me?”
The captain opened his mouth to say something. Frustrated, Angela didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Just never mind,” she said, shoving past him.
Angela ignored his grunt of protest as she rushed down the street to intercept his people. But even with thoughts of the evidence being contaminated, the detective could barely suppress the grin tugging at her lips.
Stupid of the girl to seek cover during a storm. If she could’ve endured, the rain would have washed away her trail, washed away any chance of Angela finding her. Seems the vision of perfection was more flawed than Dr. Hirch believed.
She entered the rundown store with Dyllon on her heels. Thick dust coated everything from the ceiling to the floors. Small dunes formed against the back walls. Between the cracks of the floorboards, seeds had randomly taken root and grown into greenery. Empty shelves, which at one time had lined the walls, decorated the floors now, and an old counter with the glass broken out still held an antique cash register. Must and the underlying pungent scent of ammonia floated in the air and assaulted her senses.
Angela wrinkled her nose.
“Years of animal inhabitants and mold,” Ranger Davis, area expert on what had been formerly known as Henry County, said. He stood against the wall next to the old counter; his long beak-like nose pointed into the air, resembling the snouts of the two German Shepherds sitting next to him. The dogs looked back and forth between the newcomers, their tails beating a tempo against the floor; their long black-spotted tongues lolled out, panting.
Two females and a male from the search party formed a half circle next to a mound of old rags. They looked up as the captain and detective approached.
“Careful where you step,” said a woman, as if Angela was some rookie. Her hair curled like springs and bounced when she knelt down. “Look. There.” Her finger swept across the area. “And there.”
Angela’s eyes followed from the large spot of coagulated dark crimson next to the rotting rags to an area where shoe prints littered the dust.
“And over there.” Curly-head walked over to the crumpled shelves and knelt next to them. “This is recent.” She handed one of the splintered shelves to Angela. Dust streaked across the long planks. Red dots were sprinkled along the grain.
“It seems there was some sort of scuffle.”
“Plus, someone fired a shot,” said the man. His voice was deep, like a trombone.
A large hole left jagged splinters in the wood above a mound of molded tarps. After Angela traced the edges with her fingers, she brought it to her nose. Gunpowder.
“Do you think she was shot?” the other woman asked. Her hair was straight as a pin, and thin. The pink of her scalp showed through the yellowish-blond.
The detective shook her head. “No, there isn’t any splatter.”
“She was taken,” said Dyllon.
“Seems that way,” Angela said while pushing the rags with the tip of her boot.
“Renegades?”
“Who else?”
Ranger Davis shook his head. “There hasn’t been any activity here for years. Even before I took over.”
Angela looked sideways at him. “That doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”
“I’m very thorough at my job.”
“I have no doubt.” She turned to Dyllon. “I want an up-to-date map of this area. Satellite, if possible.”
“No problem.”
“I have all the information back at my office,” Davis said, his voice carrying a hint of indignant annoyance.
“Great. That saves me time,” said Dyllon.
“There has been no activity here. I conduct random patrols and investigate the area thoroughly.”
Angela whipped around to face him, hands planted firmly on her hips. “There is activity here. Can you deny the proof?” She waved her hand. “It’s everywhere.”
Apparently, the expert had nothing more to say. He tightened his hold on the dogs’ leashes and stormed out of the store. The way the floor groaned, Angela halfway expected the man to fall through in his tantrum. Once outside, Davis unleashed his companions. The dogs bounded happily out of view.
“I think you made him angry,” Dyllon pointed out.
“Proof is proof. There is a nest of them, somewhere.” She turned toward the woman with the springy hair. “Do a blood analysis against the sample on the shelves and the one on the floor. Also, find the shell casing.”
She cast Dyllon a glance and nodded toward the door. He followed her onto the road. Out of earshot from the others and the disgruntled expert, she turned toward him. “Don’t let the ranger out of your sight.”
“I’ve known Davis for years. I completely trust him.”
Angela’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t.”
Dr. Hirch answered on the first ring. “Hallo.” The more he listened to Detective Petersen’s report, the angrier he got. Retrieving his missing daughter was not going as he’d expected. Worse, the incompetent people he, himself, had put in charge were delaying his experiments. “Let me know of any further development.”
He flipped the phone shut and tossed a pile of folders displaying the names of his creations on his desk.
Leland peeked over the monitor, his eyes glimmering with curiosity. “Well?”
Needing to calm himself, George waited a moment before he answered, “It seems Ellyssa has found friends.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone has found her.”
“Has she been harmed?”
A tic found residence in George’s jaw. He fought to maintain control. “They do not know.”
“What do they know?”
The doctor felt the last of his patience dwindling away. “There was some sort of altercation.”
Leland leaned back in the computer chair, resting his arms behind his head. His fingers disappeared into his thick locks. “Renegades?”
The doctor nodded.
“Maybe she got away.”
“Detective Petersen does not think so.” Thoughtful, George’s brow knitted together as he pulled Aalexis’ file over to him.
He opened the folder to the blank-face stare of his youngest. What was going on with them? First, one escaped and now another was growing defiant. He needed to finish his work before anything else went wrong.
“I have something to show you.” Leland’s voice broke into George’s thoughts.
Still holding Aalexis’ file, the doctor stalked to Leland’s computer. “This had better be good.”
“It’s even better than good.” The young man scrolled through the file menu of recent tapings until Subject 67-Ahron was highlighted. He double-clicked and hit the play button, then slowed the frames down.
Ahron stood at one end of a bulletproof chamber, his platinum hair glowing iridescent under the overhead lights. Thirteen meters away, an AR-15 rested on a tripod, bolted into the floor and targeted on his chest. The bolt slid back and ejected a shell casing when the rifle fired. While a small wisp of smoke dissipated in the air, the speaker boomed. The boy completely disappeared as the bullet passed through and drilled a hole in the target behind him. Ahron returned, solid, unharmed.
With his cursor, Leland moved a slide bar down, sectioning each second into tenths. “Count from the moment he disappears until he reappears.”
As the frames ticked by, George counted. “Seventeen.”
“Yes, three-tenths longer than before. Now, watch this.” He went back to the previous screen and clicked on Xaver’s file. Same setup as Ahron’s, Xaver also stood at one end of the chamber, his young face appearing bored. Again, an echo of the rifle boomed from the speakers, right after smoke appeared. The bullet fell to the ground a meter away from Xaver.
Leland spun around and faced his mentor. “I’ve been measuring every test. The time increases, even if it is minutely. You were right.”
Pride lifted George’s spirits, a smile pulling the corners of his mouth. His cause was not lost; his prodigies’ powers were growing. He would get Ellyssa back. He just needed to exert patience and not forget his self-control. His plans would come to fruition, a perfect creation born.
The smile on his face grew.
He could only imagine the manic expression his assistant must be witnessing. Blinking, he turned away and concentrated on his composure. If he was to be the bringer of greatness, he had to keep his sentiments in check.
“Their powers are growing,” George said, managing to keep his voice level. “Tomorrow, I want you to start new instructions. I want Ahron to stay invisible longer. Xaver needs to extend his energy shield to protect others.”
“What? Who would we use as guinea pigs?”
Emotions under control, George leveled his eyes on Leland’s. “There are imperfects at your disposal.”
“I-I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can.” George clapped the assistant on the shoulder. “The outcome is worth the sacrifice.” He paused for a moment as he tossed Aalexis’file on Leland’s desk. “The test results show no indication of any type of breakdown in emotional responses.”
“Maybe pubertal changes,” Leland suggested, his voice distant.
“I tested for the possibility.” George paced back to his desk. “Nothing, but there is one thing.”
“What?”
“Aalexis is a very powerful, intelligent teenager. Superior to all others The Center has created thus far. And she knows it. I would say it was more of a God complex incomparable to all the others. She feels we are wasting her time and her talent on batteries of tests. She feels she has already proven herself.” He shrugged. “The tests are useless on her.”
Leland’s eyebrows thrust upward. “Great. A thirteen-year-old narcissist.”
A hint of a smile played across Dr. Hirch’s lips. “Yes.”
“It could lead to dangerous consequences.”
The doctor shook his head. “Not at all. She is obedient to me. We just need to find something to challenge her. Something beyond her current capabilities.”
“Like what?”
“So far, everything she has done has been in a controlled environment without extraneous variables. We need to see how well she manipulates matter while under pressure.”
15
The monitor lit up, illuminating the small workspace at the desk. A blinking command told the user to enter a password. After checking over her shoulder, Ellyssa slipped the flash drive she used for lessons into the USB port and entered a sequence of symbols. In less than a minute, the command hardcoded into the system and opened a backdoor. A list of files popped onto the screen.
She scrolled through the list until she found Dr. Hirch’s file. She clicked “open” and another list of subject numbers, from fifteen to seventy-six, came into view.
Seventy-six? There was a seventy-six?
Ellyssa clicked on a random file and a colored photo of a female baby downloaded onto the screen. The face of what should have been a cherub was completely deformed. One eye drooped below the other, and the mouth and nose slanted strangely to the side. Two stubs stuck out from the side of the ribcage, resembling unformed nubs on a fetus. Its tiny feet were twisted inward. The baby had been terminated a couple of weeks ago.
Ellyssa clicked back to the subject numbers and scrolled to number twenty. A black and white photo of a female dressed in a hospital gown appeared. Her eyes
were widened in horror and a silent scream was forever plastered on the digital face.
Frowning, Ellyssa wondered what had happened to her. She double-clicked the file next to the picture and read about a young female known as Subject 20, Ida. The emotional breakdown after she had lit test subjects on fire with nothing more than a thought. Ordinary citizens had been used for testing. The subject couldn’t handle the guilt.
Guilt…the word floated in Ellyssa’s head as she followed the link offered at the side, and read Dr. Hirch’s notes. According to the doctor, Ida was less than a savory soldier. She was weak and ineffective. Her IQ was average. Her ability to start fires was on a hit-and-miss basis. She’d been terminated.
Guilt?
“Hey?”
The doctor’s voice hovered along the edges of Ellyssa’s daydream. She flipped around to Doc’s wide smile. Her lips twitched in response.
“I brought you some lunch.” He held a red tray.
“Thank you, Doc. I am hungry.” She crossed her legs and positioned the tray on the crook of her knees. A slice of bread, a blob of peanut butter, and a small glass of milk.
“Please, call me Mathew. It’d be nice to have someone refer to me by my real name.” He looked apologetic at the food. “I know it’s not much.”
The scent of garlic clung to her caregiver’s clothes. He smelled wonderful. She thought about talking to the doctor about his lunch so she could steal the image, but that would be intrusive. And, for some unforeseen reason, doing so seemed wrong. The images she’d already picked from him had been, overall, helpful, and goodness thrummed inside him.
Ellyssa liked the doctor, which was completely foreign in her limited experience with emotions. She hadn’t ever liked anyone before. Including her father and her siblings. Even stranger, she also trusted the doctor after all he’d done for her.
The emotions she’d kept guarded her entire life were finally free to roam. No worries about being discovered, about being punished.
“It is fine, thank you.”
Mouth watering like an open floodgate, she swabbed peanut butter onto the bread and took a bite, then washed the stickiness down with warm milk made from a powder mix.
