Jaden Baker

by Courtney Kirchoff

  The elevator rose. He grinned, thanking the girl he had not met for saving him, thanking Alan for taking pity on him. He was escaping. In that moment he thought of the taste of fresh water, the smell of the free air. Birds and clouds.

  The elevator rose for two or three minutes (though it seemed an eternity) before it stopped. How far down had he been? It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t return. It was time to focus on getting free. There was still a ways to go, he knew it. If they’d gone to all the trouble of keeping him locked away, they wouldn’t let him go so easily. They’d fight for him.

  The doors slid open and a new obstacle presented itself.

  There was a tiny space in front of him, just large enough for him to stand in. It was dark. Cracks of light were at his feet and above his head. The only sound was the pounding of his heart, the heaving of his breath. Jaden pushed along the wall for an exit or a door knob. With one heaving push, the whole wall swung out.

  He squeezed through the gap, shoving the barrier back into place.

  It was an office.

  His eyes ricocheted about the room. Bookshelves lined the walls. In fact it appeared he’d just come through a bookshelf. There was a grand desk ahead of him, a computer and phone on its surface. Tiled floor, ceilings high, walls painted moss green: this was Dalton’s office.

  Under different circumstances, he may have wanted to peek around and study his enemy. Not today. Jaden didn’t have time.

  The way out of the office was a small staircase with a door at the top. Jaden left the office and entered a long hallway. He ran. Colored shapes that may have been photographs on the wall, blurred passed him. He then found himself in a spacious and elegant room. It was some kind of art gallery, with marble floors and large paintings in ornate frames hung on the white walls.

  He continued into a second hall that branched off the art gallery. If Dalton had a room just for paintings, this had to be an enormous house. Finding the doors that would lead him out of here might be more challenging than he thought. But he must find them. He had to hurry, for he was certain the staff would regroup and try to capture him. Once Jaden was outside, he was home free. Nothing and no one could stop him once he was outside in the world.

  There were voices ahead of him. Jaden guessed fifteen men were in the house with him, but he couldn’t be sure until he got closer, and Jaden didn’t want to go near them. He’d been lucky so far, but his confidence wavered now that he was out of familiar territory. Jaden jumped up a staircase and ran into a room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  It was modestly decorated: a painting of a beach, a queen sized bed, and a chest of drawers. A guest room, perhaps. He tiptoed to the window to look outside. It was dark; he saw the lights from houses next door, and the street. Small lights bounced on the ground. Jaden squinted at them. There were dozens of bouncing lights. People with flashlights, coming to the house. Coming for him.

  There was a phone on the chest of drawers, and he picked it up, excited. Dial tone. He pushed the buttons 9-1-1 and put the phone to his ear, listening to the ring.

  Thundering footsteps running up the stairs.

  Jaden dropped the phone, dove under the bed, crawling on his elbows to get himself completely hidden, then turned himself around. He watched the door.

  It creaked open and one then two feet came inside.

  Jaden shut his mouth, afraid his loud breathing would betray him.

  The feet padded the room and stopped at the dresser. Jaden heard the phone clicking back into its cradle. The feet walked to the center. They turned toward the bed.

  Jaden had lost his focus and therefore his best weapon. He readjusted and became hyperaware once again. His whole body felt charged.

  The man held a remote in his hand, his thumb on a button. Of course he did. That’s why everyone was coming into the house, to find and capture him.

  The heels came up as the man crouched to look under the bed.

  Jaden, thankful he was skinny, got ready to pounce. Before the man ducked his head, he was knocked backward as if hit with a wrecking ball and grunted before landing on the floor. Jaden slid from under the bed and took the remote from Martin, then kicked him in the stomach, punched him in the face, and grabbed him around the neck, squeezing his carotid artery.

  Martin clawed at Jaden’s face and chest in resistance. It was no use, Jaden was powered by adrenaline and freedom.

  Martin slumped to the floor. To remove the evidence, Jaden stuffed him under the bed.

  Cracking the door open, Jaden checked the hallway. It was clear.

  If everyone had shock collar remotes, he couldn’t be seen. That everyone wasn’t pushing the button now to hear him scream meant they only worked within a certain range. As long as he left the house quietly, he would be free.

  He snuck down the hall and back downstairs, inching his head around the corner to see. He took the last step onto the floor and tiptoed to what he thought was the exit. He encountered no one. That was either luck, or they were close, hiding from him. But he couldn’t feel their presence in the next room.

  There, just twenty feet from him, was a large entryway. A second grand curved staircase to the left, leading up and into the house, and great oak double doors to the right. The way out of the house.

  His heart threatened to beat itself out of his chest. Once he was outside, he’d run, just run, until he couldn’t run anymore. They would not catch him.

  Jaden edged into the room when he saw someone’s shadow. Before thinking, Jaden launched the man away from him. He crashed into a ceramic sculpture, which shattered into a terribly loud alarm of noise.

  There was nothing left to do but run. Jaden sprinted for the doors. They got closer and closer. All he saw were those doors. He imagined them opening, letting in the sweet, cool night air. His new life was about to begin.

  They were inches from his outstretched fingers. He thought about what he would do with his freedom, where he should go. He almost had his fingers touching the opening door when a powerful jolt knocked him into the door. He fell to the floor, but the shock was over quickly. He gathered his legs underneath him and turned to blast whoever had shocked him into the next time zone, so he could continue unfettered.

  Six men ran after him, all with tranquilizers pointed at him.

  “No, don’t!” someone yelled, a man not among the six.

  Jaden didn’t care. He focused on the six and reached out to knock them down. He’d just stop their hearts. They would have been spared had they let him escape.

  But his focus was gone. The hyperawareness wasn’t there. The six men came closer and Jaden couldn’t move his legs, couldn’t move his mind.

  His knees gave way, hitting the hard floor. Something pinched the back of his thigh. Jaden pulled it with shaking, numb fingers. He raised the object to his eyes, stared at it with blurred vision. It was a small dart, a sharp needle on one end, a plumage of blue on the other.

  His fingers couldn’t hold it, they were too weak. It fell to the ground with a soft clatter.

  Jaden’s eyes drooped shut and he fell to the side. Someone caught and lowered him to the ground. The ceiling of the house swam into view, and more faces gathered at the top of the stairs, coming toward him. He looked for a young girl, who surely lived here. He saw only adults.

  He let out a soft moan. It did not hold the weight or intensity of his despair, nor did the single tear that trickled down his left cheek. Nothing could possibly express the anguish Jaden felt the moment everything went black.

  eleven

  Voices. Two or more voices.

  You’re sleeping.

  But the voices...they’re out there. They’re arguing.

  They think you’re sleeping. Shhhh...

  He couldn’t hear what they said. The voices swam away from him, getting softer. Then they were gone. He was tired, and wished to hear nothing. Soon he didn’t. No sounds.

  * * *

  Focus surfaced. A blurry halo shimmered dully from above. His
mouth was dry. The nostril-stinging smell of bleach lingered on the air. Complete silence filled his ears.

  This was different.

  Jaden opened his eyes. They adjusted to the light over several minutes. His breathing deepened, taking in more of the harsh new smell. After awhile he forgot the scent. He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and turned his head to look around.

  The oak double doors flashed in his mind. A brief glimpse at the dark, diamond sky. Then it was gone.

  This wasn’t the outside. But it wasn’t the cell he’d lived in for four years, either.

  Everything was different.

  This was a new cell. Smaller, lower ceiling, medical pink padding. Older.

  He struggled to sit up, his stomach churning with nausea. Though his head throbbed, his mind cataloged the new environment. The cell was twelve by twelve feet, and the ceiling only seven feet tall. The toilet was in the corner, sink to the left, shower to the right. There was no wall for privacy. The observation mirror was in the same place as the last cell, to his immediate left.

  The bed creaked when Jaden sat up. His hammering heart urged him to investigate; his stomach protested. The bed was a small, old, rusty cot with a thin mattress. The top of the bed was six inches above the ground, hardly a bed at all. He had been given two thin blankets and one flat pillow.

  Most noticeable, though, was the absence of any door. Instead, a three foot by two foot alcove in the wall opposite the mirror looked rather like an elevator shaft, for there were grooves in each side. He hobbled, supporting himself by groping the wall, into the alcove and looked up, but saw only brick.

  They had moved him to a new place.

  Jaden grabbed the corners of the alcove as his knees gave way. He hit the ground hyperventilating.

  He’d been so close, a few feet, just steps away from freedom. Once out of those doors he would’ve screamed for help, would’ve run into the street to stop cars, could’ve stopped the cars himself and escaped. His life had been within his grasp, waiting for him to take hold again and rejoin the world.

  In those few moments leading up to his near escape, he wondered what was different out there, what had happened while he’d been locked inside, punished for something out of his control. His whole life had been before him. Where he would’ve gone and what he would’ve done, were choices for him to make.

  A small tranquilizer dart and it was all gone. Did they know someone gave him the door access codes? They wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. There was probably a new staff. It would only make sense. He wondered what happened to Alan, if he was okay.

  But he thought mostly of himself. After four years of careful plotting, giving Dalton what he wanted, sacrificing his dignity and power to lay the trap, it all ended. He had failed.

  Suffocation. The walls closed in on him, suffocating the life from him, sucking out all purpose. He wasn’t even human anymore, not like this, on his hands and knees hardly able to breathe, trembling with tears unshed. He had known more suffering in his life than happiness. Jaden doubted whether happiness was anything more than a concept, or if people chased it their whole lives, never knowing what it was.

  He broke down. Why hold the tears? If anyone had a reason to succumb to their misery it was him. No mother to love and hold him, no father to protect and rescue him, no friend with advice or a smile to offer simple companionship, he had no one at all. Jaden Baker, psychokinetic virtuoso, probably the only person in the world who could manipulate matter and control anything with his own mind, was completely alone, buried alive underground, controlled by evil men and women determined to exploit him for what he was. All the power in the world, and he was powerless to change his life.

  Jaden sobbed and wailed into the silence, crying to a God he doubted could hear him, praying for everything to end. He couldn’t keep living like this.

  Tears and sadness gave way to wrath. It wasn’t fair. What had he done to deserve this? His whole life was lived in fear, and Jaden was through with it. He had to escape somehow. If he couldn’t get out of here alive, then he’d leave in a black plastic bag.

  Jaden’s face, red and raw from hot tears, was filled with rage. His bared teeth, reflected in the mirror, would have normally frightened him. Not today. With superhuman strength, Jaden lunged from the alcove and grabbed the rusted bed frame. He pulled at it, determined to rip it from the floor. Jaden felt one leg of it give, then the other. His biceps and hamstrings screamed in agony. With a sudden infusion of vexing injustice, Jaden ripped the cot from the floor, yelling in angry victory.

  Jaden lift the cot and swung it at the mirror. Too long; it hit the wall instead. As he dragged the bed to a better location, he noticed smoke coming through an air vent. Only it didn’t smell like smoke. Jaden choked and dropped the bed, covering his nose.

  He was suddenly weak. Gas.

  Jaden ran at the mirror, pounded it. Because the room was so small, and air limited, the gas spread quickly and Jaden felt himself falling to the padded floor as he passed out.

  When he came to, the bed was gone. He was alone in the room, with nothing but the toilet, sink, and shower head. There was only a pillow.

  Rules were amended. Jaden knew how to control his power, there was no reason to be trained. He would not give these people anything. They could ask and command him until their voices crumbled, he wasn’t playing anymore. If they had to electrocute him to death, that’s what they would have to do. Jaden was done.

  He heard something like a motor. Jaden gathered himself into a sitting position and watched the alcove. A platform lowered. First Jaden saw feet, legs, then the torso of a man. Once the lift stopped, the man walked to Jaden.

  Jaden crawled backwards, then stood, wiping tears from his eyes and face. He stared at the man and said nothing.

  Chad Dalton had come to Jaden wearing an annoying smile, colorful tie, and gazed at him with electric blue eyes. Dalton was easy to fool, easy to manipulate, and easy to beat. Dalton was fond of Jaden.

  The man standing before him was nothing like Chad Dalton. He was older, maybe early sixties. Bald, deep set eyes, and no hint of sympathy anywhere on his thin lips; he looked at Jaden with indifference. He wore a dark pinstriped suit and held his hands behind his back, his chest puffed out in an aggressive stance. He wasn’t tall, but stocky, like a bulldog. Where Dalton’s eyes were lit with curiosity, this man’s pale gaze stared at Jaden like he was a bug pinned to a wall.

  The two studied one another for what seemed hours, neither saying a word. Jaden’s first inclination was to yell and demand his freedom, but something held him back. Here was a new man, and a new set of mind games. He waited for the old man to speak first and introduce himself, as Dalton had upon their first formal meeting. The stranger remained silent.

  Jaden crossed his arms and stared deeply into the man’s hazel eyes. What could they threaten him with? What possible game could be played that Jaden wouldn’t eventually win? He had what they wanted.

  The old man cocked his head to the side then stepped forward. He rubbed his hand on his stubbled face, scratched his chin, never removing his eyes from Jaden’s.

  “Hmmm,” mumbled the old man, then he raised his right hand and smacked Jaden across the face with so much force, Jaden stumbled and nearly fell.

  “Stand up straight,” the man said in gruff, calm voice.

  Face stinging, Jaden righted himself, and gathered saliva in his mouth.

  “It’s nice to see you up and about,” said the old man.

  Jaden nodded calmly, as though he hadn’t noticed the blow, then spat in the stranger’s face.

  The man blinked and allowed himself a small smile as he drew a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the saliva away.

  “You had Dalton fooled.” He folded the kerchief with deliberate patience then tucked it in his pocket. “You had him eating out of your hand.”

  Was he here to lecture, ask questions, irritate? Jaden took a step back then went to the sink. He splashed his face
with water. There were no towels to dry his hands, so he dried them on his shirt. The man watched Jaden’s every move.

  “You see, he was rather fond of you—thought of you like a pet, really,” he continued. “His favorite spaniel. He believed he had you under his control. I know he let you get away with running your mouth like a spoiled child, or faking your strength. But you showed all your cards the other day with your little stunt. You’re a very powerful tool. You fooled Dalton. You won’t fool me.”

  “I won’t do anything for you or anyone else,” Jaden growled. “You’re going to have to kill me or let me out,” Jaden said. “I’m done playing games.”

  The man smirked. “I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

  Suddenly Jaden’s body burned. Pain stronger than anything he had experienced pulsed through him, scorched his veins and his skin, like hot shards of glass piercing every inch of him, over and over. He heard himself screaming. He arched his back and writhed on the floor, trying to escape the incredible pain.

  Then it was over, though his entire body reeled from the shocking pain. Jaden rolled onto his stomach and panted into the padded floor. His body shook.

  The man snickered. “You see, unlike your previous master, I do not mind administering discipline.” The man paced the room. “The moment you try to harm me in any way, you will feel so much pain you’ll beg for death and mean it.”

  Jaden glared from the floor. He didn’t believe him. Jaden’s job was simple. Like all living things, this man had a beating heart, and should it come to a sudden stop, the man would die. He had no idea how much power Jaden had. He hadn’t shown all his cards. With less than a thought, the man would drop dead before he could push a button.