Waiting was bad; being abandoned was worse. Being let out of his cell was a grim happiness; he almost looked forward to the change of scenery. Jaden was let out every day to work, and Dalton was there to monitor and study his progress from novice to intermediate psychokinetic. But just before Jaden advanced to hovering objects, Dalton was gone. There was no explanation for his absence. The staff did not deviate from their routine, so they obviously knew something that Jaden did not. They left him in the dark.
Maybe he should have been grateful that Dalton was gone. But he wasn’t, not at all. The surplus of free time made Jaden anxioushe obsessed about Dalton’s sudden vanishing and the meaning behind it. He still didn’t know who Dalton was, and what he did. This place, this whole operation was something evil. Was Dalton just the mad scientist, or was there something more menacing pulling his strings? Even if Jaden asked for details about Dalton and the force behind this “facility,” he was sure no answers would be given.
Three meals came every day, he never left his cell. With nothing to do, Jaden spiraled into a deep depression, obsessing about the freedom that lay somewhere above him. He paced his cell excessively, punching the walls with unspent energy and frustration. How much time had passed? What month was it now? Did anyone wonder what had become of him?
The staff rotated three days on, two days off, making it difficult to determine the day of the week. Just when Jaden thought he saw a pattern, it changed. They didn’t want him to know anything. There was no sense of time.
At dinner on the fourth day of Dalton’s mysterious nonappearance, Jaden waited at the door instead of the corner. He wasn’t sure if anyone was going to come in, he needed to release this energy. He pitied whoever came through the door. Rules be damned. He needed to hit someone, knowing if he was hit back, a firing would follow.
It opened to reveal Alan, standing stock still, on the other side. The two stared at one another, measuring strength in a gaze.
Alan was strong, perhaps the fittest handler here. He suspected that Alan, and perhaps several others, had extensive training in self defense, martial arts, or police experience. Since the figurative signing of Dalton’s false contract of Jaden’s eventual release, no member of the staff had sparred with him. Jaden was on his Best Behavior, except when mild resistance was called for. Did they miss exercising their superior strength over him, tackling him three to one?
“I can’t come in unless you stand in your corner,” Alan said.
Jaden clenched his fists and shook his head.
Alan came inside anyway, breaking protocol. Walking past Jaden, he took the tray to the far corner, sure Jaden would remain stationary. He did, but pivoted, keeping his eye on Alan. Once the food was down, Alan walked towards the exit.
Jaden punched at Alan’s face with his right fist.
Alan caught it, spun Jaden around, and pushed him. When Jaden faced him, he was shocked to see Alan still standing there, smiling. Interesting.
Fighting with Dalton’s staff was surely frowned upon. Something, perhaps it was instinct, encouraged Jaden to play this out and fight Alan. There would be no contest for the winner, but Jaden didn’t care. He had to expend his energy, he was so frustrated. Dalton was not here to save him, to object, to do anything. Game on.
Jaden ran at him, and Alan deflected again, not striking back or trying to restrain Jaden. Alan laughed under his breath then set the dinner tray on the bed.
“You’re fighting out of anger. That makes you lose control.” Alan beckoned Jaden away from the door with his hand. “Come on.”
Jaden was perplexed. Learning to fight clearly wasn’t on Dalton’s list of required reading.
“I’ll teach you,” Alan said, smiling again.
“Why?” Jaden asked.
Alan shrugged. “I can leave if you don’t want to. I thought you’d want to do something. You looked bored.”
“You’re watching me?” Jaden asked, knowing it was true.
“We have to,” Alan said. “To make sure you’re okay. Do you want me to teach you or not?” Alan asked.
To make sure he was okay? Jaden learned a while ago he was constantly monitored, but he was curious. What did they think he was going to do in here all alone? More importantly, with Alan here, who watched now? Was there always someone in the observation room? Why did Alan want to teach him to fight properly?
“Okay,” Jaden said slowly. This felt...odd.
Alan beamed.
He first showed Jaden the correct way to stand to get the best balance.
“You want to bend your knees, sink low, to center yourself. Try it,” he said, sinking his own knees and bobbing like a buoy in water.
Feeling foolish, Jaden bent his knees and mimicked Alan. He was more balanced, though; the difference was clear.
“Good. Now let’s go over some basic punches. We’ll start with the jabs,” Alan said. He held his angled arms up to protect his face, alternating small hits in the air at his invisible opponent.
As Alan instructed him in the basics of self-defense, Jaden wondered why he was doing this and if it wasn’t a trick. The people here prided themselves on keeping him as ignorant as possible, switching schedules to throw him off, only taking him through certain doors but leaving the rest closed. A cocktail of curiosity, boredom, and frustrated energy bubbled inside him. He decided to play it out and go along with what Alan wanted him to do.
Alan. The question mark. Neither Martin, Patrick, Douglas or William showed any liking toward Jaden. But he’d had a suspicion about Alan since first contact—Alan was different, he exhibited subtle sympathy. Jaden wondered, as he watched the way Alan looked at Jaden’s face, with endearment, if this was the answer. Alan was human, capable of feeling guilt.
Apparently Jaden had been throwing punches wrong. Alan demonstrated the correct way, striking straight and sure, protecting his face with his other hand. Alan’s demonstration reminded Jaden of Derek, who had jokingly said he would teach him to box.
Alan spent a good thirty minutes instructing Jaden in the basics of boxing, including the proper stance, turning into the jab, hitting fast and pulling his arms back into him. Alan held out his hands for Jaden to strike. Hitting something released a small amount of tension, he only wished he could hit for real, not into palms.
“Swing your torso into it,” Alan said. “Use the natural momentum of your body to throw the punch. Keep your other hand up to protect your face.”
With a deep breath, Jaden struck Alan’s open fist, and was happy to see a small flash of pain on Alan’s face.
“Good,” Alan said, smiling. “It’s okay to turn your feet and pivot. You want to keep moving.”
The more he moved the better he felt. Jaden aimed three fast alternating punches. The first to Alan’s hand, the second at Alan’s gut (which Alan deflected and laughed) and the third in Alan’s back, which made contact.
He hit so hard it hurt his knuckles and Alan showed no sign of discomfort.
“I knew you needed to blow off some steam,” Alan said, grinning.
Jaden’s shoulders dropped but he felt his fists tighten. “Blow off steam. Yeah. Being locked in a cement building underground for, how long have I been down here? Three months? Four? Well, it does bring on the cabin fever. Keeping a child captive. Are you proud of yourself?”
The boyish grin slid from Alan’s face and he looked at his toes.
Jaden might have just sabotaged his only chance of getting out of here. But Alan’s attitude that everything was grand, and all Jaden needed was a little exercise, pissed him off. Did it occur to no one here that they were sick criminals?
“I don’t think it’s fair, either,” Alan said finally. “But it’s for the best.”
“How long have I been down here?” Jaden asked.
Alan looked away and shrugged, then glanced at the door like he wanted to leave. “We’re not allowed to say,” he said, twisting his fingers in his hands, now staring at the door, as if he regretted coming through it.
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“Why not? Is it day or night? Where am I? Who’s behind all this? What does Dalton actually do? Where is he now?” Jaden asked, his voice rising in pitch with each question asked.
Alan took two timid steps toward the door, when Jaden trod in front of him, holding up his hands, blocking the way. “Tell me,” Jaden pleaded. “You have to tell me something, damn it!”
“No, I’m not allowed.” Alan tried sidestepping, but Jaden blocked him. “I have to leave now, and you have to have dinner.”
Jaden spread his arms and legs to cover as much of the door as possible. “I have to know what’s going on here.”
“Please move aside.”
Jaden shook his head, but Alan was done asking. Even though Jaden kicked and punched, all boxing basics forgotten, Alan easily removed him from the door, lightly tossed him into the room, where Jaden fell onto the padded floor rear first. Alan was gone before Jaden could right himself.
Though he knew it was no use, Jaden slammed his body into the door and pounded it with his fists. All his pent up rage exploded out of him as he hit the door. He howled and attacked his own reflection, berating the people behind the glass with insults.
They were out there, he was in here. Yelling and pounding was a futile attempt.
He sunk to the floor and hit his head on the wall. Would Alan come back after that, or had Jaden just ruined his only chance at escape?
He took the tray and sat in his corner, the bed between him and the mirror, so he could eat in private. He didn’t care that his food was cold. New thoughts weighed on his mind. Alan had paused. He had doubts about his career choice. Maybe that was why he came, to help Jaden one day break free. Teach him to fight. Or, like Jaden, Alan was bored. There was no point getting his hopes up, but he couldn’t help it. Alan was troubled by this whole ordeal. Then Jaden had berated him with questions. Two steps backward.
The initial fact didn’t change: Alan had taken pity on him. Maybe desperation would help in the long run, show Alan how frustrating it was to be a prisoner. Only time would tell.
He held his plastic fork at eye level, then removed his hand—the fork hovered. It was effortless now. Dalton thought he needed more time, Jaden knew he was ahead of schedule. Smart man, Dalton. PK was a miraculous gift. A dangerous one.
All humans were flawed, Dalton was no different. Intelligent though he may be, Dalton was also simple, and trusting in a foolish way. One day he would make a mistake. He’d forget something, he would slip up. And Jaden would be ready.
When Dalton returned, he offered no explanation for his period of absence. Jaden didn’t ask, either, sure that if he did, Dalton would derive some kind of pleasure from being missed. Jaden hadn’t missed Dalton, but boredom was never fun.
Levitations began, and Jaden did his best to demonstrate how much of an effort it was to keep things suspended in air. Dalton believed him too, and apparently the brain scans did not betray the lie. After a few days, he levitated a ball perfectly and Dalton was ready to move on. Jaden hoped multiple objects would come soon, it’s what he wanted to try the most, so he was pleased when Dalton brought a box of tennis balls into test room two the next day, dumping them on the floor.
The exercise proved difficult, and Jaden had no reason to pretend he struggled. Keeping his focus on more than one object was indeed challenging. By day’s end he managed to keep two balls suspended at once, but could make them do nothing else. He made little progress over the next few days, despite his real desire to learn. Controlling multiple objects simultaneously would greatly empower him. After what seemed like weeks, his progress was still only inching along.
There was no need to fake his emotion: Jaden was frustrated.
“You’re doing fine,” Dalton said, offering reassurance. “You’ve just plateaued. We have to keep practicing. I’ll leave a few balls in your room to practice with while I’m gone.”
Jaden, who had only been half-listening, jerked his head around so quickly he strained it.
“Where’re you going?” he asked.
Dalton laughed. “Somewhere.”
“Oh, somewhere. That explains everything,” Jaden said. “Thanks.”
Dalton turned his grin into a fast frown. “Something bothering you?”
“God no.” Jaden lift a tennis ball and caught it in his hand. “I can’t think of anything that could possibly bother me. I mean, this is like a vacation. I never want it to end.”
Dalton inclined his head. “You know I’m not a fan of your sarcasm.”
“Well, you know I’m not a fan of you keeping me prisoner. So it’s a crap deal all around, isn’t it?” Jaden bounced the ball against the wall and summoned it back to him using PK, since the soft wall didn’t allow the ball to bounce back on its own.
“You’re not a prisoner.”
“What would you call it?” Jaden growled, the ball zooming around his fist now. “A science experiment? Test subject? I’d love to hear it.”
“You’re a research project, that’s the most I can say.”
“Oh yeah, that’s much different than a prisoner. I guess the difference is I didn’t do anything wrong, and a prisoner did. Right?”
Dalton didn’t answer. He picked up the empty cardboard box. Jaden thought of several crude jokes he could have made, but thought better of it. He wanted a favor from Dalton.
“How long will you be gone?” Jaden asked.
“Pick them up and put them in the box,” Dalton said, jiggling it.
“Certainly,” Jaden said and balls popped up from the floor one at a time, like fish jumping out of a lake, and landed with a hollow bounce into the box until it was full. Jaden grasped one in his hand and dropped it in. “How long?” he asked.
“Not long.”
“Not like last time?”
Dalton chuckled. “I thought you’d appreciate the break.”
“Yes, I did enjoy the relaxing time. Spent a few hours gardening in my backyard.” Jaden did not mention his training session with Alan. That was his secret.
“I’m glad,” Dalton said.
“The thing is,” Jaden pressed on, “I’ve got nothing to do. I should be enrolled in the fourth grade, but instead I’m you’re ‘research project.’ What should I do when I’m here and you’re not?”
Dalton walked to the door and Jaden followed.
“I’m not sure,” he answered.
Dalton escorted Jaden back to his cell and tossed him three balls. Jaden was glad it wasn’t two, he wouldn’t have been able to keep his jokes to himself.
“Look,” Jaden started, making his voice serious. “I’ve done everything you’ve wanted. I’ve let you scan my head, I haven’t cussed at you, I’m not kicking and screaming every time you come to take me away, and I’m not fighting any of the handlers. I’ve made this easy for you, haven’t I? I’ve kept my promise.”
Dalton sighed and nodded. “You have been better.”
“This is a nightmare for me,” Jaden said. “I hate it here. The only thing I have to do are stupid exercises. Give me something else to do. Let me outside!”
Dalton shook his head emphatically. “I can’t let you, it’s too dangerous.”
“That’s crazy! I’ve spent days and nights outside I can handle—”
“Not dangerous for you. Dangerous for everyone else,” Dalton said.
Jaden thought that was a load of dog crap, just like the first time he’d heard it, but he didn’t press the issue. “Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. Jaden knew exactly what he wanted, but Dalton had to come up with the idea himself, otherwise Jaden would never get it.
“I’m bored in here,” Jaden said. “You want my mind to rot?”
Dalton nodded at him. “I can bring you some books.”
Win.
“I’d prefer going outside.”
“If I give you books, Jaden, you have to keep up this good behavior and less mouthing off. If you misbehave I take the books away.”
Misbehave? Jaden had been the model
prisoner since he pretty much got here, aside for the first week or two. Dalton hadn’t used the collar on Jaden in ages, and he hadn’t been restrained in what had to be months. He’d wanted to punch Dalton’s lights out, but kept himself under control, remembering his own rules. He should be given a medal, not an admonishment.
“Okay,” Jaden said. “I’ll take them.”
And, keeping with his promise, a large box of books was delivered in place of Dalton. Jaden concealed his excitement as Martin dropped off the box and left, glowering the whole time. Apparently Martin still held a grudge. Jaden grabbed a book at random, sat on his bed, and read until he finished it. He missed the thrill of a book, the world it opened, the characters that danced off the page. These books were his level of reading, too. Some were brand new, others gently used. Dalton had probably sent someone to a book store.
It was in his seventh book, a used one, that he found something. He was closing it, flipping through the pages, a tribute to the story and a thank you for what it gave him, when he glanced a name scribbled on the inside cover.
Jaden opened the book and stared.
Molly.
This had been Molly’s book. A girl, probably his age, read the same story. It was a peculiar feeling looking at that name. This girl, whoever or wherever she was, shared something with him and she didn’t know it.
Molly took great joy writing her name. She had big looping Ls and curled the tail of her Y twice. Jaden traced his finger over the name written with whimsy, feeling the slight indentation on the M. Molly. Molly who, he wondered. Where did she live? What did she look like?
He wasn’t sure why he was so interested in the name. After staring at it for a lifetime, Jaden shut the book and returned it to the stack, sure Molly gave the book to a used bookstore. She was a random event.
Jaden Baker Page 14
