Expansion (The Accidental Heroes Chronicles Book 2)

by S. E. Cyborski

  “They’re the most likely ones,” Billy muttered as he hefted his bag on his shoulder again. “I think it’s far too dangerous to go to anyone else. Our best option right now is to play along.”

  “Name?” a female voice interrupted us, sounding brusque and impersonal.

  “George Ormond and Billy Layfield,” I replied for both of us. “How have you been, Jane?”

  “Busy, George,” Jane replied, the sound of a lock disengaging accompanying her words. “Welcome back. You’re the first to arrive. Adam is preparing the lab.”

  “Thank you. This should be interesting,” I said, pulling the door open and letting Billy walk in. It was ingrained in me by my mother to be polite and hold doors for people. It wasn’t a habit I felt any particular need to break and it gave me a chance to do my good deed for the day. Billy smiled but rolled his eyes, following my thoughts out of curiosity. I just shrugged and grinned, following him down the hallway. Dr. Carnesby came walking out of the lab at the back of the building, meeting us in the lounge with one hand raised in welcome.

  “Take a room, gentlemen,” he said, gesturing to hallway behind him. “First pick is yours. The others should be arriving within the next hour. Though the last room on the right is mine.”

  Billy nodded and walked down the hallway, heading for the last room on the left. I could understand that; with his telepathy he tried to get as far away from large groups of people as possible. It seemed like the most painful sort of irony that such a shy and introverted guy got the ability to read people’s thoughts. Sometimes whether he wanted to or not. I didn’t particularly care which room I got so picked one at random. They were all pretty much the same anyway, a nightstand with a lamp on it, a bed, a dresser, a chair, and an attached bathroom.

  Again, I wondered how much money had gone into outfitting the building for these trials and what it might have been used for before. It seemed extravagant to give each bedroom its own bathroom when it could have been designed with dorm-style bathrooms. Toilet stalls and shower curtains would have given enough privacy. College students who lived in dorms had to get used to similar conditions so it wouldn’t have been all that much of a hardship. But, I had to admit, it was much nicer and far more convenient.

  As I set my bag on the bed, a familiar scent nagged at me. I sniffed at the air for a few moments trying to place it. Then, staring at the outer wall, it clicked. Fresh paint was what I was smelling, though not so fresh anymore. The scent was almost gone and the room looked pristine. But I knew enough to know that I had chosen Sandra’s old room, the one Michael had crashed through when they escaped. Whoever had repaired the wall had done such a good job that I couldn’t even see the outline of the repair even though I knew what it had looked like. I thought about changing rooms, picking a different one with less memories attached to it. I didn’t want to remember Amy trying to kill me. After another few moments’ thought, I decided to stay here. After all, it was just a room. The memories it brought up were my own and I could choose to ignore them or not.

  “Is everything all right, George?” Jane asked quietly, concern in her voice.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I said, lying even though I knew Jane would probably catch onto it. She was designed to pick up everything about the subjects she monitored and lies had specific telltale physiological reactions. “Just bad memories, that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said though she didn’t say specifically about what. Which I was thankful for. “The first of the new test subjects has arrived, if you’d like to go and meet her. Also, I missed our chess games. Perhaps we’ll have time to play a few during this month.”

  “Of course,” I smiled, looking up at the ceiling. “They were a lot of fun and I still want to beat you. Billy and I have played a few times to try and get a little better. Thank you, Jane.”

  I left my bag where it was and walked out to the hallway. Unpacking could wait until later. I wanted to meet the people I was going to be spending the next month with. I heard voices coming from the lounge, one I recognized as Dr. Carnesby’s and the other a female voice. The voice was high and piping and sounded young.

  “It’s nice to meet you again, Dr. Carnesby,” the voice said as I walked into the lounge. The voice belonged to a short young woman carrying a suitcase. She had olive skin and looked like she had a perpetual tan. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached about halfway down her back and her brown eyes were peering out from the black frames of her glasses. She was somewhat chubby and wore a Beatles t-shirt and jeans, clothes that looked extremely comfortable. Her other hand was shaking Dr. Carnesby’s hand, a few brief shakes and then dropped.

  “Welcome to your home for the next month, Wendy,” Dr. Carnesby told her, catching sight of me out of the corner of his eye. “And here’s one of my assistants. George Ormond meet Wendy Berenski.”

  “Hi,” I said, walking forward and offering my hand. She shook it, again just a few brief shakes, before drawing her hand back. Standing closer, I could see Wendy was as young as her voice sounded. Maybe nineteen? “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Wendy said, nodding at me and smiling. I heard footsteps behind me and Billy stepped up next to me. “I’m Wendy.”

  “Billy Layfield,” Billy said, not holding out his hand for her to shake. Wendy looked somewhat relieved at that and I knew Billy was as well.

  “Well, now that that part’s over, why don’t you go find a room?” Dr. Carnesby suggested, putting a hand on Wendy’s shoulder and drawing her down the hallway. “Any room that doesn’t have a bag of some sort in it is yours to choose.”

  Their voices faded down the corridor as they walked and I didn’t hear Wendy’s reply. I settled down into one of the armchairs and sighed. She was so young to go through anything like what we had gone through. But there was no changing it now. She’d probably already signed the contract and nondisclosure agreement that we had signed when we first joined. Billy poured himself a glass of Pepsi and settled down in a chair across from me. He had the same worried look on his face that I knew was writ across my own.

  “She’s young,” Billy murmured, echoing my thoughts. Purposefully or not, I didn’t know and it didn’t really matter. He agreed with me and I made a small, noncommittal noise. “I read a little bit about her. She’s nineteen, which you already guessed, and just finished up her freshman year. She needs the money because her family is fairly poor. Wendy’s here on an academic scholarship otherwise she’d probably be working some boring minimum wage job she’d hate. Her words, by the way. She’s got some very strong opinions.”

  “If she’s lucky, Gnotret will do nothing to her and she’ll walk away five thousand dollars richer,” I muttered darkly, crossing my arms over my chest. “It’s really criminal that the only thing people are told before this starts is that it’s a medical trial. I really think that, for something like this, potential test subjects should get the full disclosure of what the drug could do.”

  “And would you have gone on with it if you had?” Billy asked me, taking a sip of his Pepsi. “Would you even have believed Dr. Carnesby had he told you that you might develop abilities like we all did? Either you would have immediately walked out or laughed it off and gone on ahead anyway. Besides, you and I both know that Amy would have charged right in.”

  “She would have,” I agreed with a small chuckle. “She would have found the possibility of gaining superhuman abilities fascinating. Plus, the money was too good to pass up, you know?”

  Before Billy could answer, the door opened again. There was a whooshing sound as air rushed in and then footsteps as the door sealed again. This time, three people walked into the lounge, pausing briefly in confusion as they saw Billy and me. We waved, standing up and gesturing them into the lounge.

  “Hi, I’m George and this is Billy,” I said, pointing first at myself then Billy. “We’re Dr. Carnesby’s assistants. Welcome.”

  “Hello, I’m Darryl Richards,” the only guy in the gro
up said. He had black, tightly curled hair and nearly black eyes. He had dark skin that made the white t-shirt he was wearing stand out brightly. His arm was slung over the shoulders of a young woman a few inches shorter than him.

  “I’m Elyse Sato,” the woman said, her almond-shaped eyes just as dark as Darryl’s. Her straight black hair was cut to her shoulders, a simple cut that was easy to take care off. Her voice was high too but not quite as high as Wendy’s. She was taller than Wendy as well. She wore a fitted white t-shirt with black scrollwork across the front and black jeans. “I’m Darryl’s girlfriend. And this is my best friend Tabitha Kline.”

  “Hi,” Tabitha said, smiling without showing her teeth. She hung back from the others, her shoulders bowed inward a little bit. She seemed very shy and her blond hair hung over her face almost like a curtain. When she looked up for just a second to meet my eyes, I could see that she had hazel eyes. Her voice was also deep for a girl, definitely an alto. Her voice actually reminded me a little bit of Jane’s voice. Tabitha was wearing a red corset-like shirt with sleeves that belled around her elbows and a dark brown skirt that fell to her ankles in flowy folds.

  “Ah, I see more of you have arrived,” Dr. Carnesby said jovially as he made his way back into the lounge. Darryl and Elyse shook his hand while Tabitha smiled shyly at him. “There are bedrooms down this hallway. Wendy is already here, picking her room. Feel free to pick any free room you like. Oh, and Elyse and Darryl, I want you two to have separate rooms while the trial is being conducted. I want to keep your readings separate.”

  “When did you tell everyone they needed to be here?” Billy asked after the three new arrivals headed down the hallway.

  “I told them around five pm,” Dr. Carnesby said, pulling a bottle of water from the little cooler on the table and taking a drink from it. “The rest of the participants should be arriving soon. And, I hope I don’t have to remind you both to say nothing about your own experiences. As far as these eight know, you are my assistants and know nothing more than that they’re here for a medical trial.”

  “We figured that,” Billy said dryly, casting an amused glance at me. “At least when you introduced us as your assistants the first time. That’s what we told those three.”

  “Good, good,” Dr. Carnesby nodded, a distracted look crossing his face. “Billy, I need to ask a favor of you. It might be difficult-”

  “I can help you with that,” Billy interrupted, nodding slowly. He didn’t look thrilled at the prospect, whatever it was, but there was a determined look on his face. “I’ll keep one ear on them as often as I can. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you,” Dr. Carnesby said seriously, putting a hand on Billy’s shoulder for a moment. “You and Jane are going to be the first to know if anything happens. I don’t want a repeat of what happened before.”

  The whooshing of the door stopped our conversation, the excited chatter of voices preceding four more people coming down the hallway. They stopped in the lounge when they saw us, taking a few moments to look around. There were two girls and two guys in the group, the girls walking ahead. Dr. Carnesby stepped forward and shook everyone’s hand again, ushering them down the hallway to pick rooms. By this point, the first four of the group had chosen where they would be staying and were starting to wander back out to the lounge. Wendy and Tabitha poured sodas for themselves while Darryl and Elyse went for beers. We all chose armchairs and thankfully Dr. Carnesby had had more brought in or there wouldn’t have been enough seating to go around.

  “So, introductions again, I think,” Dr. Carnesby said when everyone had come back and gotten something to drink. “My name, as you know, is Dr. Adam Carnesby and I will be running the trial. These two gentlemen here are George Ormond and Billy Layfield. They’ll be assisting me during the month the eight of you are here. Why don’t we go around and everyone can introduce themselves.”

  “Elyse Sato and I’m an engineering major,” Elyse said, setting her beer on her knee. She smiled when everyone laughed at her introduction, reminiscent of new classes. “Sorry, habit. Everyone always wants to know what your major is when you’re in college.”

  “I’m Darryl Richards,” Darryl said, waving at the group. He was seated to Elyse’s right, having dragged a chair next to hers. “I’m Elyse’s boyfriend and a marketing major. Elyse was the one who saw the flier for the trial and told me about it. Seemed an easy way to make five thousand dollars.”

  “Tabitha Kline,” Tabitha said in her quiet, deep voice. Her chair was on Darryl’s right and she seemed to be as comfortable with him as she was with Elyse. The three of them appeared to be close friends. She was difficult to hear, speaking even quieter than Billy had when I’d first met him. “I’m an English major with a focus on contemporary literature.”

  “What kind of contemporary literature?” I asked, curious. Working in a bookstore had only strengthened the deep interest in books I’d always had. Finding someone else to talk books with was fun.

  “Detective stories,” Tabitha replied, her eyes sparkling a little at my interest. “J.D. Robb, Patricia Cornwall, Kathy Reichs, Michael Connelly, James Patterson and the like.”

  “We’ll have to talk about favorite authors sometime,” I offered, ignoring the eye rolls that travelled around the room. We had plenty of time for getting to know each other. We could take a few minutes to talk. “I love horror and science fiction myself.”

  “Sure. You know, one of my favorite authors writes science fiction,” Tabitha chuckled before Darryl nudged her shoulder.

  “And if you get going, we’ll never finish,” he said, smiling at her to take any sting out of his words. It seemed like a familiar discussion between them and Tabitha’s smile only confirmed it.

  “Well, I’m Wendy Berenski,” Wendy said in the lull of conversation. “No major for me yet, I’m undecided. Just finished up my first year of college and I think I was drawn to photography class the most.”

  “Guess that makes it my turn,” one of the new arrivals said in a shrill voice. She brushed her brown hair behind one ear and smiled at the group. I noticed she had dark green eyes that seemed to light up when she looked at the girl next to her. She was wearing a purple tank top with the Cheshire Cat on it and a denim skirt that brushed the tops of her knees. “I’m Rose Martinez and I’m a theater major. I’m the one who dragged Brandy here along with me.”

  “Granted, it wasn’t that hard to convince me,” Brandy said in a contralto voice, slanting Rose an amused and exasperated glance. She had long black hair pulled back into a braid and gray eyes. Her clothing was similar to Rose’s, though her black tank top had an image of the Mad Hatter on it and her skirt wasn’t denim but a black silk. “I’m Brandy Smith and I’m a communications major. And since we’re introducing relationships too, Rose is my girlfriend.”

  Brandy spoke decisively, a bite to her words to match the challenging look on her face. Rose’s mouth dropped open in surprise and she appeared to only be able to stare in silence at Brandy. That challenging look said everything of what the two were expecting; not everyone dealt well with same-sex couples. Most of the time, for some people, college was better but even then, there were people who couldn’t stand others who were different. And that look said this wouldn’t be the first time they’d been ridiculed or bullied.

  “How long have you two been together?” Billy asked, breaking the short silence.

  “About three years now,” Brandy replied, relaxing back against her chair. There was no censure on anyone’s face and Billy would have known if anyone was going to have a problem. One of the benefits of being a telepath and most likely the main reason Dr. Carnesby had asked him to be here. “You all are surprisingly okay with this.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” I said, repeating what I’d told Billy earlier. The others nodded and I continued, “You’re a person too. Who you love is up to you and we shouldn’t have a say in that.”

  “That’s comforting,” Rose said, blowing
out a relieved sigh. “You would not believe the idiots we had in our home town. We couldn’t go anywhere alone because we had some crazy guy stalking us, telling us we were going to hell.”

  “That isn’t going to happen here,” Dr. Carnesby said, a touch sternly. There was no mistaking the ‘now or ever’ in his tone.

  “Are you both lesbians, then?” Wendy asked, head tilting to the head as she spoke.

  “Rose is but I’m not,” Brandy explained, reaching out and squeezing Rose’s hand when she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m pansexual, actually.”

  “Hey, me too!” Darryl exclaimed, pointing at himself. “You’re the first other one I’ve met on campus.”

  “What does that mean? I’ve never heard that word before,” Wendy asked again, head still tilted to the side. “I know the Latin root means all.”

  “That’s kind of it, really,” Brandy shrugged. “Pansexuality pretty much means attraction without regard for gender. Gender doesn’t come into it for me when I’m attracted to someone. It’s not something I specifically look for.”

  Wendy nodded as Brandy spoke, understanding coming into her eyes. I’d never heard the word before myself and it was good to hear Brandy explain what it was. There was silence for a few moments after Brandy stopped speaking. Darryl broke it to say he wanted to talk more with her later on. Dr. Carnesby watched everything with a pleased smile on his face. Well, I could only imagine that the more diversity in his test subjects, the better the test would be. Everyone’s age was different so why not sexualities?

  “I suppose that makes me next?” the guy sitting to Brandy’s right asked, waving at us like Darryl had done. He had a high, tenor voice, one that sounded like he was singing each word. He had shaggy, dark blond hair that fell into his tawny eyes and pale skin. He wore a gray t-shirt with the word “Wicked” emblazoned across the front in green letters and dark blue jeans. “I’m Nicholas McDonald but you can call me Nick. I’m a music major with a focus on opera.”