As he lay crying like a lost boy, all he thought of was how Jenny held him the night he ran away, the way she ran her fingers through his hair, her touch gentle and soft. She would never hold him like that again.
five
Jaden hadn’t moved in the four to five hours he was alone, crying on the floor, confined like an insane criminal. He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying the violation of his privacy and loss of control. They’d treated him like an animal and would probably do it again, if given the chance.
When Dalton eventually returned, Jaden shut his eyes and rolled to his other side, facing the wall, his back to Dalton. It was a pitiful show of resistance, but in his current state it was the only one left to him.
“You’re upset. That’s understandable,” Dalton said matter-of-factly, as if he had visited three other boys in the same condition.
He hoisted Jaden, who was powerless to resist, off the floor and guided him to the bed. “Next time do as I ask the first time. I’m not trying to make this hard. Stop fighting and everything will be easier.”
Jaden stared ahead of him, his eyes glazed over. Denying reality was foolish, but that didn’t mean he had to respond or participate in the conversation. Reacting to Dalton seemed like surrender. Lying in bed like a dead fish was more appealing.
“I’ll take off this jacket if you can behave. You need to use the bathroom?”
Peeing all over the mirror seemed a bad idea now. Not funny at all. Childish and immature, a poor reaction to the situation. Wetting himself, though unpleasant, would be another sign of his resistance, but was the humiliation worth it? Probably not. He had to get out of here somehow, but peeing himself was a cheap idea.
He did need to use the toilet, so he nodded.
“Good.” Dalton unfastened the buckles and straps and removed the jacket. In order to maintain some dignity, Jaden tried ignoring Dalton’s presence as he used the bathroom. After washing his hands, he discreetly wiped the tears from his face with a small towel. Too much crying left his face puffy and his eyes aching. Dalton sat on the bed in Jaden’s cell, so when Jaden returned from the bathroom, he did not sit on the bed or floor. He had not yet established a plan of resistance, so he stood apart from Dalton; he didn’t want to be near that man.
“I need to run some tests,” Dalton said.
This was the reason he was here, like a rat in a maze, where people could study and watch him, learn what made his clock tock instead of tick. One day they branded and collared him, the next they force fed him and tossed him in a shower, exposed to everyone. Now tests. There would be many testing situations, he assumed. If he protested, they would use force. If he went along like it was his idea, it would be surrender. Deciding what to do next, how to make his next move, was crucial.
“The test isn’t going to hurt. You’ll need to cooperate and once it’s done it’s done. What do you say?” Dalton asked.
Jaden rubbed his eyes, feeling tired. “Fine,” he said. But it wasn’t fine. He didn’t want to be tested, he wanted to leave. He would go through the door with Dalton, but that was it. There had to be a way out of here, and he would find it.
Dalton sprung off the bed, hitting his hands on his knees. “Testing is in another room. Follow me,” he said, waving a hand.
How gullible. Dalton was pleased Jaden agreed, as if he knew treating him like an animal would reign him in. But he didn’t know Jaden. All Dalton had was some manila file containing a brief history of his life. The details had fallen between the lines and off the pages.
Acid built up in his stomach, and Jaden bit the inside of his lip as he followed Dalton through the first door, finding himself in a small transitional room, an identical door before him. The door he’d just come through shut and locked before the second opened.
A long hallway lay in front of them. Instead of padding, the walls were bricked concrete, plain and gray. The door at his left was more typical, employing a traditional knob. But the rest of the doors were like the one guarding his room: dark gray, shiny, solid steel. Numbered keypads, to the right of each door, controlled their accessibility. Jaden looked back to see if there was a keypad beside his door. There was not.
As they walked down the hallway, Jaden wondered if there were other people locked in here with him. The facility seemed large enough to hold others, it was logical he wouldn’t be alone. Certainly he wasn’t the only person in the world with PK.
Dalton turned a corner, going left. He walked a little ways then made another left. Jaden followed, trying to remember every detail. There had been another door to the right before they had made the left into the new hallway. Jaden analyzed the layout as Dalton keyed in the code.
“After you,” Dalton said, motioning with his hand into the new room. Jaden looked into his beaming face. Dalton was trying to be polite. The irony was not lost on Jaden. But he wasn’t going inside.
A sudden surge of strength infused into his legs, and he ran the opposite direction from which they had come. There was an ordinary door at the end of the hall, perhaps it was unlocked, and maybe it was the way out of here. He sprinted toward it, not listening for, or caring if anyone followed behind him.
The door opened with a twist of the knob, and Jaden blasted through.
It wasn’t an exit. Gathered around tables were people, vestiges of laughter on their faces. Some were eating, others talking. Here were Casey and Martin, and other men he had not seen before. It was a staff room.
Not wasting time, Jaden spun and ran, colliding into a man with a large beaky nose and squinty eyes. Though his fingernails had been trimmed to nothing, Jaden scratched the man’s face as he was put into a headlock. Legs kicking, arms flailing, he was dragged away. In less than a minute, Jaden was in the test room Dalton led him to. He coughed when released, his eyes watering.
Dalton came in after him and the door locked behind them.
Jaden wiped his eyes and observed his surroundings. This room was small and square, like an office. A rectangular table, resembling a picnic table, was in the center. Like his cell, the benches and table came out of the ground, so they couldn’t be picked up and moved. Or thrown. There was a mirror to his left—people watched from behind the glass. The walls were padded.
“Please take a seat,” Dalton said, his polite manner unchanged, as if he’d expected Jaden to run off.
Jaden looked at the table and bench. There were thick manacles chained to the center of it, bolted solid into the surface.
He backed into the wall behind him and shook his head.
“Sit down, Jaden,” Dalton said as he sat on the other side.
“I don’t think so,” Jaden said to him, shaking his head more fervently.
Even with the door closed and locked, he ran to it, but the beak-nose of a man grabbed him, twist him around, and snatched Jaden’s flapping fists.
Bracing his feet on the table and bench, trying to push away from the table and chains, Jaden struggled against his new captor, straining to get free.
“Do you need help?” Dalton asked.
“No, I’ve got him,” the man replied calmly. “Give me a second.”
Jaden pushed hard on the bench, thrusting himself and his captor back. The man hit the wall with a thud and a breath-stealing grunt. His grip loosened, Jaden got one arm free. He swung it at the man’s face, made contact, then elbowed him in the gut. As soon as the other hand released Jaden’s wrist, he felt a jolt of electricity. Like each time before, the shock was strong and sudden, sending him to the floor. This time it lasted only a second. When the effects eased, Jaden tried scrambling away, but was dragged back to the table and forced into the bench.
“Don’t!” Jaden said, his teeth gritted, as first his left then his right wrists were locked into the manacles on the table. Dalton adjusted the widths to fit. Jaden pulled, the chains were thick and strong. The cold metal bands around his wrists pinched his skin.
“You sure make things harder for yourself,” Dalton said, taking a stack of car
ds from his pocket and laying them on the table, ignoring the clacking sound of the chains as Jaden yanked them.
Pressure built behind Jaden’s eyes, but he would not cry. He took deep, heavy breaths and tried regaining control of himself. His eyes rest on the far corner of the room, away from Dalton. Whatever the test, he would not participate.
“William, can you set him up please,” Dalton said.
“Sure thing,” said William, rubbing a spot on his cheek. A black carrying case was set and opened on the table. Inside were a series of multicolored wires with electrodes at their ends. All the wires fed into a packet with a Velcro strap. William removed the device from the case and wrapped the strap around Jaden’s chest, then tried attaching the electrodes to Jaden’s head.
Whatever the device did, whether it measured brainwaves or something more technical, Jaden didn’t want it on him. Even though his movements were limited, Jaden tried contorting his body, making it impossible for William to attach the device properly.
“Stop that. This is your first warning.” Dalton pinched his nose with thumb and forefinger. “Why do you have to fight everything?”
He swayed as William tried putting him in a headlock.
“Oh yeah, I’m being totally unreasonable,” Jaden growled.
With Jaden placed in a headlock, William had no free hands to attach anything to his head.
The door opened. Dalton had called for reinforcements in the form of Alan, the jittery, bug-eyed individual Jaden had seen before.
“Hold him so William can attach the sensors,” Dalton said, pointing at William and Jaden.
Alan put Jaden in a lock faster than William had, and held him firmly, one forearm tight against Jaden’s throat, making it hard to breathe.
“He’s feisty,” Alan remarked, smiling.
Dalton chuckled. “Yes, he most certainly is.”
Jaden pulled at his restraints again, more out of instinct than anything. Alan was stronghe kept Jaden completely immobile.
It took ten minutes for William to attach the sensors all over Jaden’s skull, using some kind of glue to secure them. Then he plugged the series of wires into the device strapped around Jaden’s chest.
“Let him go,” Dalton said, and Alan released him.
Jaden took a lungful of air then examined himself in the mirror. With no hair, the sensors appeared to be coming out of his brain, spanning from his forehead to the base of his skull. Like a cyborg.
Dalton unwrapped a rubber-band from his stack of cards and put the band in a pocket. “The sensors read your brain activity as we run through this exercise. It will help us learn more about how your PK works.”
“I’m not doing this exercise,” Jaden said, pulling at his restraints again, making the skin of his arms and wrists raw, while shaking his head trying to dislodge the sensors.
“Yes you are,” Dalton said, and he picked up a card. “Because the sooner you finish it, the sooner we’ll unlock you. If you don’t do this exercise, then I will leave you here until you’re ready to cooperate.” He flashed the card at Jaden, showing a photo of a butterfly. “Tell me what this is.”
William stood behind Dalton, and Alan behind Jaden. It was three on one, and Jaden was tied to the table, unable to go anywhere even if he knew where to go. This door, like the one in his room, opened from the outside, so he couldn’t get out even if he did manage to break free.
Jaden looked at the card with the butterfly photo. If all he had to do was name things, and not do any PK, then that’s what he would do. No extraordinary tasks were required.
“Butterfly,” he said through gritted teeth, angry with himself for surrendering.
Dalton tried hiding a smirk then flashed another card.
“House.”
Another card.
“Chair.”
And another.
“Cup.”
Bike.
Angel.
Cat.
Lamp.
Girl.
Frog.
Each flash card had a photo or drawing of something ordinary. Jaden named each thing, becoming increasingly bored. If there was brain activity being recorded, it was minimal. He called out the object names for what seemed like forever. When Dalton ran out of cards, he picked up a new deck and began again.
“Good,” Dalton said. “And this?”
“Bird,” Jaden said.
“Shoot him,” said Dalton.
William whipped a pistol from his pocket and aimed it at Jaden’s face.
Before Jaden could scream, the pistol flew out of William’s hand and hit the mirror, chipping it before the gun fell to the floor.
Jaden’s heart pounded. He hyperventilated, pulled at his restraints, and his body trembled.
William ran for the gun.
Jaden tried shuffling off the bench, but could only move a few inches. He pulled frantically at the chains.
William raised the gun and aimed again, his finger pulled on the trigger.
“NO!” Jaden screamed in a high voice.
The gun flew out of William’s hand and hit the wall.
“I said, shoot him!” Dalton yelled.
Jaden didn’t understand, he thought they wanted him alive. There was rage in William’s and Dalton’s eyes. Blood oozed from his wrists, though Jaden did not feel pain. Getting out of here was his only concern.
William aimed the gun, clutching it in both hands. He squeezed the trigger—
—the gun was wrenched from William’s fingers, only this time it did not fly backwards, but forwards, coming toward Jaden. It hit the back corner of the room, bounced on the padded wall, and tumbled to Jaden’s foot. Jaden grabbed it with his toes, slid it underneath him, and covered it with both feet.
The chains rattled on the table as Jaden shook. He was shivering, his lip trembling, and he felt cold, like he’d been forced into an icy pool. His heart didn’t beat as much as it cudgeled his ribcage, a loud hum in his ears. Awareness returned: his sweat-soaked shirt clung to his back, and his pants were wet.
Shaking his head but grinning, Dalton said: “That was incredible.”
Jaden’s teeth clattered when he tried talking—his voice could not be summoned.
William cradled his right hand with the left. “My fingers,” he muttered. “Look at my fingers.” They were bleeding, the blood running down his wrist and arm, a chunk of skin torn from his pointer finger.
“Get that cleaned up,” Dalton said, then turned to Alan in the far corner. “Get the gun, please.”
Alan didn’t move, he stared at Jaden with wide eyes, his mouth open.
“Pick up the gun, please Alan. He’s not going to hurt you,” Dalton said.
Alan hesitated before retrieving the weapon. Jaden pushed his feet on the gun; because his legs trembled and held no strength, Alan easily took it.
Jaden screwed his eyes shut and moaned, turning his head away, afraid Alan would shoot him in the head.
“Open it and set it down,” Dalton said.
Jaden heard the gun clunk on the table, and squinted his eyes at it.
The revolver’s chamber was empty.
Blinking tears, Jaden sat up, his lip quivering, teeth clattering in his mouth. He glared at Dalton, who grinned.
“You did well,” Dalton said, laughing. “Very well. I wasn’t expecting that.” He reached out his hand and patted Jaden’s arm.
Jaden jerked it, of course he couldn’t move.
Dalton stood and withdrew a small, silver key from his pocket. He gave it to Alan, who stared at it in his palm. Then Dalton unplugged the wires from the device, and one by one, he removed the sensors from Jaden’s head, wiping it with a warm and wet towel to clean the glue off Jaden’s skin.
“You’ll be hungry after the shock wears off,” Dalton said conversationally. “Alan will bring a meal to you, and I hope this time you eat. Then I expect you’ll want to sleep, which I also encourage. This exercise was hard on your mind and body and it will need rest.”
/> Jaden’s throat constricted—another fit of sobs was near. He pushed them down, closed his eyes tight, kept his head low, and waited for Dalton to leave.
It had been years since he had been so terrified. Every nerve in his body produced a different sensation, all culminating in horror. A series of images raced behind his eyes, showing themselves long enough for Jaden to recognize them as not-so-distant memories which haunted his dreams and waking nightmares.
There was a creaking sound as Alan used the silver key to free Jaden. He gathered his hands to him and folded his arms. His chin dropped to his chest and, not for the first time, he cried.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Alan said quietly.
But Jaden couldn’t get up, his body shook, and he couldn’t stop it. The image of the gun burned his mind: a six-shooter revolver, identical to the one on the table, the dark hole of the barrel pointed between his eyes. He wanted his mom.
Alan plucked him from the bench, holding his shoulders, standing him up. The door was open. Wiping tears from his face, Jaden walked numbly forward. Once in the hallway, Alan rubbed Jaden’s upper arms, warming him. Jaden was barely aware of the gesture. His wobbly legs made walking difficult. He tripped every few steps. Alan prevented him from falling by holding him with strong arms.
Casey met them outside the set of doors of Jaden’s cell.
“Dalton sent me to help,” Casey said, staring at Jaden.
“I’ve got it,” Alan said gently. “Just let us in.”
Unlike the previous day when it took three men to get him to shower and dress, Jaden entered the bathroom unaided and removed his sweaty clothes, operating as if under a haze. The shower turned on and he stepped under the warm water. Alan had not followed him inside.
The image of the gun pointed at him flashed in his mind repeatedly, and each time Jaden twitched. He couldn’t get it out of his head. Dalton lured him into a false sense of monotony with those cards. Pulling a gun had been the plan.
Jaden Baker Page 10
