While Michael and Sandra had their conversation and continued on to other things, Amy sat in her darkened room and stared at a wall. She felt like something was missing, something that had been part of her life for so long and had been suddenly ripped away. It was like being followed by a ghost, one that whispered of everything she’d left behind. The worst part of it was Amy knew exactly who that ghost was and that it was her fault everything had been left behind. She was the one who’d left, even though it had been the right thing to do. She was the one who walked away from George after honestly trying to kill him for stopping her.
“It was the right thing to do,” Amy muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and sighing. “He pulled away first, didn’t he? George was only holding me back. We’re rich now and we’re famous. What could George offer that would equal that?”
But there was still a small voice, deep inside and nearly silenced, that argued back against her. Showed her images of the life they’d had, of laughter and love and happiness. That voice tried to convince her that Sandra was in the wrong, not George. Tried to remind her of Sandra’s ability and how she delighted in manipulating people during their trial. But that was where the voice lost traction and vanished. Sandra’s manipulation ran too deep for that little voice of reason to last more than a few seconds. Yet the voice left behind an incredible urge to just talk to George. Even if he was wrong, Amy wanted to hear his voice again. Maybe try and discuss what was happening and why she had felt the need to run.
Amy looked over to the phone on the nightstand next to her bed. The single lamp highlighted the phone in a pool of golden light, as if telling her to call. Amy debated for a few more seconds, biting her lip, before reaching over and picking up the phone. Her fingers danced over the numbers, George’s number one she’d memorized long ago.
“Hey, you’ve reached George,” George’s voice said as the phone went to voicemail. “I’m not available right now so leave a message and I’ll call you back when I can. I will be gone for a month so it may be a while before I can call back.”
Losing her nerve, Amy slammed the phone back into its cradle. It was almost surreal hearing George’s voice again. She didn’t even know what she wanted to say. Yet the feeling to talk to him didn’t go away, to explain her side of things. All Amy really remembered was arguing with George and storming out of his room. She’d avoided him for the rest of the time in the warehouse, sticking to her room or spending her time with Sandra and Michael. The light still highlighted the phone and Amy found herself staring at it again. Did it really matter exactly what she said as long as she started talking? Surely George missed her, too. Wouldn’t he be happy hearing anything from her?
Taking a deep breath, Amy picked up the phone again and just listened to the dial tone. It rang annoyingly in her ear, the flat tone spurring her to dial. The numbers beeped as Amy pressed each one slowly, George’s number spelled out in technology. She held her breath as the line rang, wondering whether she wanted George to pick up or not. Speaking into his voicemail would be easier but Amy really wanted to hear directly from him. Yet, speaking directly with George could open a whole can of worms she wasn’t quite ready to deal with yet. Amy waited with baited breath while the line continued to ring and let out an explosive sigh when it went to voicemail again.
“Hey, you’ve reached George,” George’s voice said again and Amy’s heart leapt at his voice. “I’m not available right now so leave a message and I’ll call you back when I can. I will be gone for a month so it may be a while before I can call back.”
“George, I...” Amy started to say then trailed off. What was she going to say? But the option was taken away as the recording beeped to signal its finish. Amy sighed again and hit the button to record her message again. As she heard George’s message, Amy worked through what she was going to say.
“George, it’s Amy,” Amy said again, proud when her voice didn’t waver a bit. She struggled to keep her tone conversational and pleasant. “I know you’re busy, your message said you were going to be gone for a month. Just... call me, please? When you can? Thanks.”
Amy hung up before she could be asked whether she wanted to re-record or delete her message. She didn’t want to be tempted to do either, especially deleting it. Her message was friendly and polite, striking the tone she was going for. Sitting back against her headboard, Amy felt a small smile creep over her face. She’d done it. She’d faced something she was afraid of and reached out to the guy she still loved. Even with everything that had happened, Amy cared a great deal for George. And she was a little sorry at how they’d parted.
“Wait, a month?” Amy asked herself, sitting bolt upright as all the happy warmth faded away. “Is he really in another trial? That’s the only thing I can think of that would take his phone away for a month. Oh, George, what are you doing?”
If there was another trial, did that mean there were others like them now? Other people who’d developed abilities? Amy could only imagine it’d be easier to find subjects since the semester had ended. College students almost always needed money and maybe a month wouldn’t seem like that long. Especially if the reward for it was five thousand dollars like it had been for them. Though she, Sandra, and Michael hadn’t seen a dime of it as they’d broken out of the warehouse before the month was up. This was something they could use, more people they could bring about to their way of thinking. Amy grinned to herself; the money they’d made from their thefts was fantastic but there was always more, just sitting there waiting to be stolen. Wouldn’t it be easier to steal it if there were others who could help?
This was something Sandra needed to know. Though, Amy would have to think quickly to find a way to explain how she knew. She knew instinctively that Sandra wouldn’t be happy to find out she’d called George. Muffled sounds came through the wall that connected their rooms along with a surprisingly loud thump. Amy shook her head and knew she had a little longer to think about it. She didn’t want to walk in on them right now.
------------------------------------------------
I was sitting on my bed thinking when a knock came at my door. Jane and I had been discussing my ability, what limits I might have on it and what limits I’d already found. I opened it to see Billy standing there with a serious look on his face. That could only mean something else had happened. I gestured the guy in, settling down on my bed near the headboard with my legs crossed underneath me. Billy closed the door and sat down near the foot, running a hand through his hair.
“All right, gimme,” I said without preamble. “What’s wrong now?”
“Darryl and Eric have discovered their abilities,” Billy told me. “Darryl shapeshifted a checkers counter and Eric seems to be immensely strong. We haven’t gotten too much into it because Wendy and Tabitha are in the kitchen. Rose, Brandy, and Elyse saw what happened so Dr. Carnesby is including them in the discussion. We need you to distract the other two so they don’t figure out what’s going on.”
“I can do that, sure,” I replied, shrugging. “I guess it’s a good sign that they’re already showing abilities. They only recovered today. Maybe it means Wendy and Tabitha really won’t be changed.”
“I have to agree with that assessment,” Jane said suddenly, voice brisk. “As you know, I’ve been monitoring each subject carefully and reviewing their blood samples. Wendy and Tabitha show none of the markers for Gnotret that the rest of you share.”
“Hey, one good thing to come out of all of this,” I said sarcastically, unable to stop the curl in my lip. “Two lives saved. Two people who can go on and just be normal.”
“Are you really that bitter about what happened?” Billy asked, a touch of surprise in his voice. Apparently I’d buried that feeling way deep down, far enough that he hadn’t picked up on it.
“I’m bitter about the future I should have had and instead got the ability to shapeshift while losing my girlfriend to a megalomaniac,” I snapped, glaring at Billy even though none of it was his fault. These
flashes of anger were something I’d gotten used to since my life had changed but I’d managed to keep them to myself. “Maybe you’re all sanguine and zen about your ability but I’m not. I want my life back.”
“I’m not all that happy with the changes myself,” Billy replied quietly, an immense sadness in his voice. “You think I enjoy hearing everyone’s thoughts? Even if I don’t want to? It takes nearly all my concentration to block out everyone’s thoughts when I’m in a large crowd. Trust me, you wouldn’t like the things I’ve overheard. I wish I had my life back just as much as you but I’ve also accepted that there is no going back. I’m trying to do the best I can in a less-than-ideal situation.”
“Gentlemen, as important as your discussion is, you need to get back out there,” Jane interrupted before I could say anything. I knew she was right and that we would have to table this for another day. I stood up and clapped a hand on Billy’s shoulder, putting as much comfort and understanding in my thoughts as I could. Billy smiled, nodding slightly, and we headed out to our respective conversations.
I managed to keep Wendy and Tabitha in the kitchen long enough for the others to discuss what had happened to them. Tabitha and I talked about favorite books and authors, favorite genres and compared the merits of Tolkien versus Lewis Carroll versus modern writers such as Neil Gaiman and David Eddings. It was interesting to find out that all three of us had read The Hobbit at a young age and loved it.
Our conversation segued into music and art, with all three of us having extremely varied tastes. Wendy was very much into pop music while Tabitha enjoyed jazz and alternative. I felt a bit like the odd man out with my love of classical and opera. Of course, we all enjoyed music from different genres but those were our absolute favorites. And I was highly amused to discover Wendy and I shared a love of Irish drinking songs, with Celtic Thunder being the favorite band of both of us.
We talked for about an hour, moving from topic to topic. I even discussed some of the anthropology courses I’d taken, speaking with longing about the places I’d hoped to travel to one day. Maybe, with Wendy being undecided about her major, I could influence her to try anthropology. It would feel like giving back to the discipline that lost one of its own, as odd as that might be. Even if I managed to finish my degree, I doubted I’d ever be left alone to pursue the work I wanted. Tabitha talked about her classes in glowing tones, describing books and films and the interpretations everyone had had. I think Wendy was grateful for it all as we were both so far ahead of her in our academic careers. It must be daunting, trying to pick a major, something you would do for the rest of your life, when you weren’t drawn all that strongly to anything just yet.
We’re good now, Billy’s voice said in my head after that hour. I was quite used to this by now and could carry on a speaking conversation and one in my head with Billy without letting anything show on my face. Meet me in my room and I’ll tell you what happened.
Okay, give me a minute or so, I replied before smiling at the girls.
“Well, it was great talking to you both and I hope we gave you some ideas, Wendy,” I said, standing and nodding at them. “I think I’m going to take a nap for a little while. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Thanks, both of you,” Wendy replied, smiling gratefully. “You’ve given me a great deal to think about, if nothing else. Nice talking to you too, George.”
Tabitha nodded her agreement and I walked down the hallway to my room. I could hear quiet murmuring coming from the lounge and met Dr. Carnesby as he was walking from there. He just shook his head and walked past me without a word. Maybe he was starting to worry just as much as I was. I stepped inside my room and closed the door, not at all surprised to see Billy there sitting on my bed again. I was surprised to see Nick, though, sitting next to him with their shoulders almost touching.
“So?” I asked, sitting at the head of the bed again. “How did it go? And how are you, Nick?”
“Better, I think,” Nick replied honestly, slanting an amused glance at Billy who merely looked away with an innocent look on his face. Apparently, Nick was picking up the same trick I had. “It took some time but I think I’m dealing with everything.”
“It went about as well as you would expect,” Billy said when Nick was done talking. “I asked Nick here so I could go over the conversation with him, too.”
“Though that’s not the only reason,” Nick chimed in slyly, bumping his shoulder into Billy’s. I laughed as Billy blushed a bright red.
“Anyway,” Billy said decisively, studiously not meeting my eyes or Nick’s. “The others know that they’ll likely develop abilities, it’s only a matter of time. Also, they need to keep it from Wendy and Tabitha as they don’t appear to be developing any. Dr. Carnesby is quite aware of the markers in our blood and not theirs. Jane told him after the second day the others were sick. Eric seems terrified of his ability and I don’t blame him. He has immense strength and proved it by stacking the armchairs as high as the ceiling and then lifting them all up. I don’t know if he’s going to want to learn how to harness his ability. ”
“I would be scared too,” Nick commented, shaking his head. “Imagine what you could do if you weren’t careful. To something or even someone. ”
“I know and I think that’s why Dr. Carnesby didn’t press him too hard,” Billy replied, the blush finally fading completely from his cheeks. “Darryl’s ability is another story. He can change the shape of inanimate matter. Elyse bravely volunteered to see if Darryl could change animate matter and it was a resounding no. So far, it tends to be unconscious but he’s interested in it enough that I think he’ll develop complete conscious control of it.”
“And the others?” I asked when Billy stopped speaking. “Rose, Brandy, and Elyse? They’re showing no signs yet?”
Billy sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. He looked tired, dark circles around his eyes and shoulders drooping as if with the weight of the world. Nick nudged his shoulder again, a look of concern on his face. Billy shrugged and smiled, straightening his shoulders and visibly pushing the exhaustion away.
“Not yet but they’re afraid too,” Billy replied. “That was pretty much what happened. Most of the conversation was trying to calm them down. I’m actually really surprised we managed to keep it all below a shout. Something else a little interesting, George. You remember those dreams we all had. The ones about being chased and finding a blue light with some sort of creature? Everyone had a similar dream. I wonder if there’s something in the drug itself that maybe causes hallucinations of some sort.”
“I had a dream like that, too,” Nick commented suddenly, surprise and a sudden wariness in his voice. “Though I’ve had weird dreams before and didn’t think too much about it. Did the creatures burrow under the skin in your dreams? They did in mine and that was the creepiest part.”
“Yeah, that was another similarity in all our dreams,” Billy replied slowly, head tilting to the side as he thought. “I think, once we’re out of here, I might try to find out a little more about Gnotret itself.”
“I doubt you’ll find much information,” Jane cut in, a flash of annoyance in her voice. “I’ve tried and the files are very protected.”
“Good to know,” I nodded, making shooing motions with my hands. “Billy, you should go sleep. And don’t tell me you’re fine. You look like you’re about to drop and I know how hard you’ve been working keeping an ear on everyone. Go sleep. We’ve done all we can for now.”
Nick pulled Billy to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist and walking him to the door. Billy acceded after a single protest, fighting back a yawn as they walked. They shut the door behind them and I settled down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a lot to think about. What abilities might the others develop? Who would deal with it and who would crack like Sandra did? Or who would go legitimately crazy? We’d been insanely lucky on that front, everyone keeping their relative sanity intact. The others could develop any sort of ability,
really, and there still were no indications to show what might happen. Now there were eight of us but that still wasn’t enough to determine anything. I doubted it was even enough yet to tell who would develop abilities and who wouldn’t.
Unable to make any more progress on my questions, I let it drop for now. Instead, I turned to my memories of life before this. It was so much simpler then, classes and family and Amy. Working towards my degree and my dream of working in exotic places studying other peoples. I drifted off during a daydream of riding down the Amazon in a little canoe, studying how one of the tribes who lived here fished. There was a sense of remorse along with the wonder, knowing I’d probably never travel there. But that was the best part about daydreams: I could literally do anything I wanted. Amy was there, too, grinning widely at me with her white teeth flashing in the sunlight. The daydream followed me into sleep and I dreamt of living in the Amazon with her, working together in harmony and love.
Chapter 11
It was two days later and Amy still hadn’t quite come up with a logical reason for how she knew George might be involved in another trial. Honestly, she didn’t even have any proof that he was other than that he was gone from his phone for a month. But a trial such as the one they had gone through was the most likely reason. George didn’t like to leave his phone anywhere, much less for an entire month. She’d finally decided to just tell the truth. After all, how much damage could it do to call him? George wouldn’t even recognize the number she’d called from. But still, Amy hesitated, hand raised to knock on the door to Sandra and Michael’s room, debating with herself over the wisdom of going in.
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