Jericho Jaxon
Page 11
It’s Nico who steps out of the trailer. He’s carrying a toolbox with him. Looks like I just confirmed who has been sneaking in to fix the place up.
“Can you describe anything about the scene?” he asks.
“It’s the desert,” I repeat. “An isolated area. Uninhabited.”
Not completely untrue. The area where my trailer is located is desolate. And my trailer is still vacant.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about the area? Anything that could differentiate it from other isolated desert locations?”
I swallow. This is where things could get sticky. This is literally too close to home. But maybe it’s not my trailer that’s the target. Maybe it’s Nico.
We’re alien hunters. Falcon’s words echo in my head. They expect me to use remote sensing to track down aliens for them. Then they’ll send their super-soldiers to kill them all.
Including Nico. And maybe even me.
“Do you see anything else?” Dr. Palmer asks, his tone growing more impatient.
My heart starts to beat more rapidly. What if one of the monitors I’m hooked up to can tell him if I’m lying?
“No, I don’t see anything else.”
There’s a long pause. Silence. It’s almost too quiet.
“Are you telling me the truth?” Dr. Palmer asks.
Now what? He seems to know that I’m lying.
“There’s a male there,” I say finally. My voice is barely more than a whisper. I can’t seem to get the words out.
“A male?” Dr. Palmer asks.
“A male,” I repeat.
“What can you tell me about him?”
“He’s big. Muscular. Dark hair and dark eyes. Dressed in all black.”
And now he’s staring straight at me. Nico puts his index finger to his mouth in a be-quiet gesture. Then I hear his thoughts in my head. You’re not safe. Don’t tell them who you are. Don’t tell them what you know.
It’s a warning like the one Falcon gave me.
“There’s nothing else you can tell me about his location?” Dr. Palmer sounds irritated, and it’s making me nervous.
“It looks like Arizona desert.”
“You don’t see anything else?” he presses.
“A tumbleweed.”
“You’re sure that’s all?”
“That’s all I can see,” I snap. “It’s the middle of nowhere. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s enough for now. Let’s take a break.”
As I open my eyes, I catch sight of him marching out of the room. I’m still hooked up to the monitors, so I can’t leave. Not that I have anywhere else to go.
It feels like I’ve been sitting there for a long time before I finally see someone hurrying toward the room I’m in. But it’s not Dr. Palmer. It’s Sergeant Snow.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he says as he disconnects me from the monitors. “I’ll take you to the atrium.”
I follow him out of the viewing room and down several corridors until we’re in the sunlight. I had forgotten how good it feels to have the warmth of the sun on my cheeks.
When he takes a seat on one of the benches, I sit down next to him.
“Dr. Palmer isn’t very happy with you right now.”
“I sensed that.”
“You’re quite intuitive.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here?” Although it didn’t take any psychic skills to figure out that Dr. Palmer was angry with me.
Sergeant Snow’s piercing gray eyes search mine for several moments. I haven’t quite figured him out yet. Is he truly a nice guy, or is he the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing?
“They’re bringing your friend here today.”
“What friend is that?” The only true friend I have in the world is Gunner, but they have no reason to bring him here.
“JoJo Rodriguez.”
“We’re not friends.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
“I don’t know her that well,” I clarify.
“You’re going to get to know her really well.”
“More experiments?”
He nods.
“This is one of the few places on the base that doesn’t have cameras monitoring our every move.” He points up at the dome. “No place to put them.”
I feel like he’s trying to tell me something. Maybe that this is a place to say things that we don’t want others to hear.
“JoJo doesn’t have any family or close friends,” he says. “No one would know if she disappeared. No one would care.”
“What are you saying?”
“All of the people they’ve trained for the super-soldier program are considered disposable. People without family or loved ones. Children no one wanted. Wards of the state. Runaways who no one ever bothered to look for. They can do what they want to people like that. Who’s going to complain? Who’s even going to know it’s happening?”
My stomach knots as I think about Falcon and what he went through as a child. And what I saw is only a small piece of the puzzle. How many others have they been experimenting on—and for how long?
Then I wonder what sorts of things they plan to do to JoJo. Would they turn her into a cold-blooded killer like they did to the others?
“I do care about her,” I admit. “JoJo.”
“That’s why I’m telling you this. If you care about her, you’ll do something to stop them before it’s too late.”
“But what can I do?” I can’t even stop them from doing their experiments on me.
“You’re more powerful than you realize. You need to leave. JoJo needs to leave. You both need to get out of this place.”
“But how?”
He glances around. “I need to take you back to the viewing room before they get suspicious.”
My head is spinning; I feel so confused. And I’m still not sure if I can trust him.
“You can trust me,” he whispers as if he’s reading my mind. Then he reaches into his pocket and removes a horseshoe medallion about the size of a quarter. It looks very similar to the pendant that I got from my mother.
The one that Falcon took from me.
“Are you . . . ?”
Before I have a chance to finish my question, he moves his index finger to his lips and shushes me.
When I glance toward the entrance to the atrium, I notice Dr. Palmer heading toward us. He plasters a huge fake grin on his face as he approaches.
“Feeling better?”
I nod.
“Good. Maybe we’ll have some better results this afternoon.” He turns his attention to Sergeant Snow. “We have a new recruit joining us. Show her to her room and help her get situated, Sergeant.”
He rises from the bench. “Yes, sir.”
The afternoon session does go better. They have me do simpler exercises that don’t involve Nico, my trailer, or anyone or anything else close to me. I find and follow a few of their soldiers in the field. Thankfully, none of them is Falcon.
When our session finally ends, it’s time for dinner, and I’m hungry. It’s the first time since I arrived at the base that I’ve had more than a fleeting desire for food. And my stomach is growling.
When I enter the mess hall, I search the room for Falcon, but I don’t see him anywhere. It’s hard to contain my disappointment until my eyes land on JoJo, seated by herself at a table in the back corner.
I hurry over to her table and take the seat across from her.
She looks so different. She’s dressed in clothes like the ones they gave me to wear. All her spiked jewelry is gone. Even the piercing over her eye has been removed. She’s like a watered-down version of her former self.
It takes a moment for her to register that someone has sat down with her. Several more moments pass before she recognizes me. Something is not right. The JoJo I met a few days ago was quick-witted and sharp as a switchblade. The woman seated across from me seems to have all he
r senses dulled.
What did they do to her?
She’s staring at the food in front of her, but she’s not eating it. She’s not even poking at it. Her gaze is fixed on the plate.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I ask.
She nods but makes no motion to lift her fork or spoon.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her as I rise from my seat. “I need to get something to eat.”
When she glances up at me, her dark eyes look empty. “Little Miss Muffet. What are you doing here?”
“The same thing you’re doing here.”
She frowns. She seems dazed and confused.
“I’ll be right back. I promise.”
When I place my hand on her shoulder, I expect her to flinch, but she doesn’t. She just stares up at me with a vacant expression.
As I step away from her, I take in a deep breath and try to shake the feeling of dread that has enveloped me.
How can I help JoJo when I can’t even help myself?
The kitchen staff is serving pasta with meat sauce. When I ask for two servings, the young guy dishing out the food raises an eyebrow.
“I’m hungry,” I tell him.
He plops an extra portion on the plate and hands it to me.
“Bread too.” I point to the sliced garlic bread next to him.
After he places two slices of bread on the plate, I take it from him. “Thanks.”
He gives me a strange look. Like he wants to say something, but he can’t. Someone or something is stopping him.
I grab a cranberry juice from the drink fridge and hurry back to the table.
I’m slightly relieved to see that JoJo is eating her salad.
“I told you I’d be back.” I take the seat directly across from her again.
“Where are we?” she asks. She still seems out of it.
“We’re at a military base,” I tell her. “Underground. Where did they say they were taking you?”
She rubs her forehead as if she’s trying to stimulate her thinking. “I don’t remember. Everything is so fuzzy. Doug left me in Arizona. Stole everything that I owned.”
“Who’s Doug?”
“My boyfriend. Scratch that. My ex-boyfriend.” She blinks rapidly for several moments. “The creep took off with Mitzy.”
“Who is Mitzy?”
“A hostess at the club where we were performing.”
Maybe she still is a musician.
“Do you remember anything else?”
She frowns. “He stole my violin. It was a gift from my grandfather. Doug pawned it for gas money. Jerk.” She blinks rapidly, then stares at me for several moments. Then she snaps her fingers in my direction. “You have a yellow Vespa.”
“I do. Do you remember anything else about me?”
“I thought you were a rich, white, suburban girl.”
“You got the white part right.”
That makes her laugh. And for a moment, I catch a glimpse of the JoJo I knew. Maybe if I continue helping her remember things, it will keep the lights in her eyes on.
“Bubblegum,” I say. “Do you remember buying bubblegum at the corner market?”
Her brow furrows, and she seems to be lost in thought. Then she says, “I don’t know why I bought it. I don’t even chew gum.”
“Do you remember when we were sitting in that tiny waiting room? That’s when you called me Little Miss Muffet.”
She nods. “There was someone else with us.”
“Eli Washington.”
A look of horror spreads over her face.
“Do you remember him?” I ask.
She looks lost in her own thoughts again.
“What about Dr. Mary Roth? Do you remember her?”
She shakes her head forcefully. “I don’t want to see them anymore.”
“What did they do to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps.
I feel so hungry, yet I’ve lost my appetite. I have to force myself to eat even if I don’t feel like it. My stomach is growly and aching. I don’t remember the last time I ate a decent meal.
I choke down several bites of pasta.
Then I’m overwhelmed with the sensation that Falcon is close by. His presence is overpowering my senses. It nearly takes my breath away.
It’s no surprise when he slides into the seat next to me.
He seems surprised to see JoJo, though. His eyes widen as he looks her up and down.
“It’s you,” JoJo says when she glances up from her plate and notices Falcon. “You’re the one who’s been training me.”
“What did they do to her?” I whisper to him. “What did you do to her?”
“It wasn’t me,” he whispers back. “It’s what they do to all of us. It’s part of the program. They call it cleaning the slate. They try to erase everything that makes us human. Our memories. Our emotions. Our feelings. They do whatever is necessary to eliminate all of it.”
I push what’s left on my plate away. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“Can I have that?” JoJo’s hand hovers over a slice of my garlic bread. At least one of us has an appetite.
“Go for it,” I tell her.
As she snatches the bread from my plate, she gives me the slightest of grins. “Maybe you’re not such a princess after all.”
Disagreeable and full of disdain. That’s the JoJo I remember. She’s starting to sound more like herself again.
I lean toward Falcon and whisper, “I saw your memories. They were still there. How is that possible if they erased them?”
“They can’t ever completely eliminate all of our thoughts, feelings, and memories because they aren’t just in here.” He points to his temple. “They’re out there too.” He waves his finger in the air around him.
“I don’t understand.”
“You know how you can store computer data and files in a cloud? They’re not just saved on your local computer. They’re also housed outside of your personal computer with lots of other people’s data. It’s the same with our memories, thoughts, feelings, and experiences. They’re not just stored locally in our own brains. They’re also kept in a repository outside of our individual minds. Some people call it the Akashic records. Other people call it the Universal Mind. It’s a memory storehouse for every person who has ever lived or will ever live. They can wipe the memories from brains the same way a computer virus can wipe the files from a hard drive. But they can’t erase them from the Universal Mind. That’s what you were tapping into when you saw my memories. I can tap into it too.”
“That’s deep.” I’m not sure I completely understand everything he’s telling me, but what I think I understand sounds wild.
“They haven’t had time to wipe JoJo’s mind completely. They just started the process.”
Falcon’s attention is drawn to the entrance of the mess hall. Sergeant Snow is looking in our direction.
“I’ve got to go,” Falcon whispers before he slides from the chair and hurries away from our table.
I poke at my pasta with my fork and pretend that I’m still interested in eating it.
When Sergeant Snow approaches, his forehead is lined with concern. “I thought I told you to stay away from Falcon.”
I give him a sarcastic laugh. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t enlisted in the military. I don’t have to take orders from you or anyone else.”
He sits down next to me. When I glare at him, he quickly asks, “Do you mind if I sit here?”
“It looks like you already did.”
“I’m just trying to help you,” he whispers.
“So is Falcon,” I fire right back.
He heaves a sigh. “You have no idea what he’s capable of. I’ve seen him kill men with his bare hands and not feel the slightest bit of remorse.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted when you made him into a super-soldier?”
“I don’t have anything to do with the program.” He quickly glances around the room. When he
moves closer to me, I freeze. I immediately feel uncomfortable. Then he whispers, “I’m trying to stop them.” His voice is so soft I have to strain to hear him.
“I need to get out of this place,” I reply just as quietly. “Soon.”
“I’m working on it.” He glances around the room. “I have a plan.”
“JoJo too,” I remind him.
He nods.
“And Falcon,” I add.
“No way.”
“I’m not leaving without him.” Despite Sergeant Snow’s dire warnings, I’d feel much safer knowing that Falcon would be with us.
“He’s the property of the US military. They consider him a weapon. A very expensive one. They put a lot of time, money, and resources into his creation. They’re not going to let him go that easily. Is that a battle you’re willing to fight?”
I nod without hesitation.
“Are you going to eat that?” JoJo taps the side of my plate and points to the other slice of garlic bread.
“You can have it.” I push my plate closer to her.
She grabs the garlic bread. “I don’t know why I’m so hungry.”
I’m glad to see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes has been restored.
“I have very strong reservations about including Falcon in any of our plans,” Sergeant Snow whispers.
“I don’t,” I say with confidence, even if it’s not completely true. Part of me is afraid of Falcon and what he’s capable of doing. And the message from my mother still plays in the back of my mind. Don’t trust the man of your dreams.
But another part of me cares about him and is willing to take the risk.
“What is it about Falcon that you find so captivating? Why are you willing to risk your own safety for his?”
I wish I knew. “Just make sure he’s part of the plan, or count me out.”
He heaves a frustrated sigh. “There’s no way I can change your mind, is there?”
I shake my head.
“You’re just as stubborn as they said you were.”
His remark catches me off guard. “Who said I was stubborn?”
He does another quick glance around the cafeteria. “I’ll touch bases with Falcon and see if we can coordinate our efforts. He has no idea that I’m like you. Or that I’m working for the Resistance.”
“The Resistance?”