Project Chimera

by Lisa McMann

  Their energy deflated. “I’m really sorry about your dad,” Maria said. “I hope we didn’t take you away from important stuff. I really appreciate you coming outside. I feel a little better.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry too,” said Mac. “Are you . . . okay?” His eyes shone with concern.

  “I think so,” said Charlie. “It’s not like I can do anything to find him at the moment.” She took in a deep breath and blew it out. “Besides, I care about what happens to you, too. You’re my best friends.” She looked at Maria, trying to ignore the beard. “What are you going to do now?”

  “Go home and hope my stepbrothers are keeping my mom and Ken so busy that they don’t notice me. And pray that I turn back to normal by morning.”

  “I’ll help by distracting them,” said Mac.

  Charlie thought for a moment. “I have a scarf you can borrow. Maybe you can cover up most of it.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  The three walked back to the house. Charlie climbed up the side and disappeared into her bedroom. A moment later she returned to the window and tossed a scarf down to Maria. “My mom’s keeping me home from school tomorrow. If you need me, call my house. You’ve got the number now.”

  “Thanks, Charlie. If this doesn’t go away, I might be staying home too. I hope you find your dad soon.”

  “Me too. Good luck,” said Charlie, feeling helpless.

  Maria and Mac waved halfheartedly. Charlie watched them head out through the gate into the darkness.

  “Charlie, where are you?” called Mrs. Wilde, her voice faint through the closed door. “I could use some help down here.”

  “Coming!” Charlie quickly replaced the screen and closed her window. She grabbed the house phone and ran downstairs with it, returning it to its charger in the kitchen.

  Her mom was there, cleaning up. “Quinn said it’s pointless to leave the house a mess. It’s not like there’ll be any fingerprints because the soldiers wore those bodysuits.”

  “I’ll bet their fingerprints would look really different, anyway,” said Charlie, remembering Prowl’s claws. She started resetting the dining room chairs. “This feels weird.”

  “Very,” said her mother. Almost in a daze, she and Charlie finished straightening up the kitchen and moved on to the dining room. Andy, back in the chair with Jessie, stayed focused on his comic book while the dog occasionally licked his face.

  “Hey, Andy,” said Charlie. “Wanna come help us clean?”

  Andy didn’t move.

  “Leave him alone for now,” Charlie’s mom said quietly. “I had a good talk with him while you were upstairs. This is a lot for a ten-year-old to handle. He’s trying to cope the best way he knows how.”

  Charlie watched her brother thoughtfully. There was a big part of her that wanted to crawl into bed with a book and hide inside it forever. She didn’t blame Andy for wanting to escape with a comic.

  They continued cleaning. When Charlie grew warm from all the work, she took off her sweatshirt and was reminded of the warehouse all over again—she still wore the T-shirt that was covered in blood and full of rips from her fight with Prowl.

  “Charlie!” said Mrs. Wilde. “What in the world? Are you okay? When did this happen?” She rushed over to examine her daughter while Andy looked up from his chair. His face turned pale.

  “It’s okay,” Charlie assured them. “I’m fine. The healing power is working fast. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” She glanced at Andy and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, really. See?” She pulled down on her sleeve, revealing her shoulder through the neck hole. The cuts had all closed and were scabbed over, well on their way to healing.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” said Mrs. Wilde.

  Charlie went over to Andy so he could see up close. Then she knelt and showed him the starfish pulsing on the device screen. “That means it’s healing me.”

  “That’s pretty cool,” said Andy. “I want one.”

  “Your bracelet really is incredible,” Mrs. Wilde said. “It would be amazing to have something like that in the ER, you know? To slap it on a trauma patient for a bit and watch him heal right up . . .” She paused, lost in thought, then murmured, “It would change the world.”

  “Maybe then you wouldn’t have to work so much,” said Charlie wistfully.

  Mom looked at Charlie. “Maybe,” she said. “But for now I’m going to take a leave of absence from my job until this nightmare is over.” She looked at Charlie’s shirt again. “Let’s throw this thing away, okay?”

  It didn’t take as long as Charlie expected to get the house looking back to normal, though reminders of the break-in remained. One of the six dining chairs was broken beyond repair and two of the family pictures that had been on the walls were smashed, the photographs scratched. While Mrs. Wilde went for the vacuum cleaner, Charlie picked up the loose photos and focused on her dad’s smiling face. Carefully she wiped the shards of glass away, then brought one of the photos to the refrigerator and secured it there with magnets so they’d be able to look at the family every time they walked by.

  Once their nerves had settled enough to allow them to grow hungry, it was already way past their bedtimes. They rummaged through the kitchen looking for food.

  “Do you think we could all camp out in your room tonight, Mom?” asked Andy as he fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I don’t want to sleep in my room alone.”

  Under normal circumstances Charlie wouldn’t want to do something like that. But tonight wasn’t normal. “Yeah. Can we, Mom?”

  “I’d love that,” she said. “I get the bed.” Her smile was strained.

  “I guess that means we get the floor, kid,” Charlie said to Andy.

  “Rats,” said Andy.

  After they finished their late-night snacks, the kids pulled sleeping bags out of storage and set up their area together. Charlie was worried she wouldn’t be able to sleep because of all the crazy things that rushed through her head. Had Maria made it inside without anyone noticing her monkey-fur head and beard? Was Dad okay? Was he thinking of them, too? Charlie hoped he wasn’t worrying about them like she was worrying about him. But after all the physical and emotional exertion she’d been through that day, it didn’t take long before she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

  When she woke, the sun was streaming into the bedroom. Her mom’s blankets were tousled, but she wasn’t in bed, and for a moment Charlie panicked. But then she smelled breakfast cooking. Andy was still passed out on the floor beside her, with Fat Princess curled up next to his face and Big Kitty on top of the sleeping bag near his feet, keeping watch through slit eyes. Charlie could hear Jessie’s dog collar tags jangling in the kitchen. She stared at the ceiling. Her stomach churned and her heart sank as she was jolted into remembering everything that had happened the previous day. How had her father slept? Was he all right? And Maria—had she changed back into her normal self?

  She sat up and searched the area for her phone and found it on the dresser, attached by the charging cord to an outlet nearby. Her mom must have plugged it in for her. Charlie grimaced—no doubt her mom had also noticed the rough shape it was in. She crawled over to it and checked the time. Nearly ten o’clock. Maria and Mac would be in school. Or at least Mac would be.

  She unplugged it, got up, and went into the kitchen in search of her mother, who was cracking eggs into a bowl.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Good morning. Hungry?”

  “Sure.” Charlie decided not to mention that this was the most cooking she’d seen her mother do since they’d moved here.

  “Mac stopped by. Nice kid. He was just making sure you were okay.”

  “Was Maria here too?”

  “No, just him.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “We had such a late night last night—I wanted you to sleep. Besides, he couldn’t stay. He was on his way to school and he looked kind of anxious, like he was worried about being late
or something.”

  “Did he say anything about Maria?”

  “He said she was staying home from school today. Sounds like she’s not feeling well.”

  “Dang,” Charlie muttered. That meant she hadn’t changed back.

  Mom looked sidelong at Charlie. “I don’t suppose you know if your friends have told anybody about what happened to you all yesterday.”

  “Mac and Maria wouldn’t.” Charlie looked guilty and confessed, “They’ve known about my bracelet for a while. It’s top secret. Mac’s been trying to deactivate it so I can take it off, but we haven’t had any luck so far finding the access code.” She frowned, thinking she needed more time with those Project Chimera files. “I’m not sure about Kelly, though. She promised not to say anything, but I don’t really trust her all that much.”

  Charlie’s mom poured the egg mixture into a skillet. “I’m really not sure what to do,” she began. “I don’t want more people to know about this because that would put Dad at risk, but what about their parents? I feel responsible for telling them what happened.” She sighed. “This is complicated.”

  “Maybe we can ask Dr. Sharma what we should do. I don’t want my friends to get in any trouble or anything. When will she be here?”

  “In about an hour. She called a few minutes ago and said she just landed at the airport. She’s bringing someone else to help us—I’m not clear on exactly who.”

  “That’s a relief. Then we can try to find Dad?”

  “I hope so. I’m glad she’s not wasting any time. I can’t stand not knowing what’s going on.”

  “Yeah, me too.” With her father, for sure, but also with Maria. Charlie was quiet for a moment. Then she dug her toe into the rug and twisted it around. “So-o-o . . . you saw my phone.”

  “Yes. We’ll get you a replacement today. I don’t ever want you to be without a phone. Not anymore.”

  Charlie nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Just stay out of situations that would do that to your phone again, okay? They’re expensive.”

  Charlie couldn’t promise that. What if someone needed her? “Sure,” she said uneasily. But she knew that if those soldiers came back, or if they got between her and her father or anyone else she loved, she wasn’t going to worry about keeping her phone in pristine condition. She was going to fight with everything she had.

  CHAPTER 8

  Getting Some Answers

  By the time Dr. Quinn Sharma’s rental car pulled into the driveway, Charlie, Andy, and their mother were anxious to get moving on a rescue plan. Every minute that passed with Mr. Wilde’s whereabouts unknown made them feel more and more helpless.

  Two women got out of the car. The driver started toward the house while the other woman went to the backseat to get a duffel bag. Andy held Jessie back so she wouldn’t run outside or jump on the visitors, and Mrs. Wilde opened the door, not even waiting for the woman to knock. “Hi, I’m Diana.”

  “Quinn Sharma,” said the driver. Dr. Sharma was a medium-sized woman with dark golden skin, glasses, and thick brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail. A few loose wisps framed her face. She wore a navy-blue business suit with a slightly rumpled white blouse, and she looked tired but alert. She held out her hand in greeting.

  Mrs. Wilde shook it warmly as the other woman closed the back door of the rental car and walked briskly toward them.

  “This is my former colleague and friend, Erica Sabbith,” Dr. Sharma said. “She’s an engineer at Talos Global—she’s been there since Charles and I and the others were working on Project Chimera.”

  Erica was tall, broad-shouldered, and had the athletic build of an American Ninja Warrior contestant, Charlie thought. She had short, spiky, jet-black hair and didn’t smile. Tattoos started near each of her wrists and ran up and out of sight under her sleeves. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Did you work on Project Chimera too?” Mrs. Wilde asked her.

  “I was in a different department, but I knew about it,” said Ms. Sabbith.

  “We’ve been friends for a long time,” said Dr. Sharma. “When I reached a dead end trying to contact our old government liaison, I turned to her. She was able to get away to help us—she has access to equipment we’ll need. Shall we go inside and talk?”

  Charlie’s and Andy’s eyes widened and they stepped aside.

  “Of course,” Mrs. Wilde said. If she was intimidated, she was hiding it well. She shooed the cats out of the way and ushered the women inside. Immediately Ms. Sabbith pulled a black wandlike device out of her bag and began to wave it around the furniture, walls, and air vents. “Excuse me, what are you doing?” asked Mrs. Wilde.

  “Looking for bugs,” Ms. Sabbith said softly.

  Andy looked confused until Charlie whispered in his ear, “Recording devices, not insects.”

  “Oh,” said Andy.

  Soon Ms. Sabbith finished her search. “All clear,” she said, and sat down with Dr. Sharma and the three Wildes around the dining table. Quinn opened her briefcase and took out a folder. “Here are some photos of Dr. Gray,” she said, sliding them to Mrs. Wilde. “I thought they might be useful so you know who we’re dealing with.”

  “Thanks.” Mrs. Wilde glanced at the photos and showed them to the kids.

  Charlie studied the photos of a gangly man in his midfifties with salt-and-pepper hair. He wore a white lab coat in one of the photos.

  Ms. Sabbith turned to Charlie. “I understand from Quinn that you can’t get the Mark Five off your wrist. Would you mind if I have a look?”

  “Sure,” said Charlie. She hesitated, then got up and went over to the woman and held out her wrist.

  Dr. Sharma leaned closer so she could see too. Erica gently turned Charlie’s wrist so they could get a view of all sides.

  “Quinn, is this metal titanium?” Ms. Sabbith asked.

  “Yes. All of the bracelets were made with it.”

  Ms. Sabbith nodded. “And what would happen if we lasered this off her? Would it still work?”

  “You might be able to cut cleanly through the clasp without destroying it, but I can’t guarantee that.”

  Charlie cringed. Now that they had the files, she was hoping to find a clue that would tell her how to unlock the device. But if she did, would she have to give them the bracelet? She wasn’t sure she wanted to be without it now.

  “We don’t want to risk that.” Ms. Sabbith turned thoughtfully back to Charlie, who sighed with relief and showed her how to get to the other screens on the device. She talked through what each one was for.

  “Charlie,” said Dr. Sharma, “I’m curious about a few things. Can you describe the attackers? And why do you think they’re soldiers?”

  “We call them soldiers because Mac heard them talking, and they said soldier kinds of words, like ‘ten-four’ and junk like that. And one of them called the other ‘soldier’ once too. All of them wore similar full bodysuits. All black. They had goggles covering their eyes so you couldn’t really tell where they were looking. And they all had different abilities. Like Cyke,” she said, growing a bit more comfortable the more she talked. “He was just huge and strong and could run really fast, but he couldn’t climb a tree—not even a little bit without falling. But then Miko was small and super agile, swinging around a street sign and leaping off.” She thought of Maria’s tail and realized Miko hadn’t seemed to have one. “She might be a chimpanzee.”

  “So you know their names?” asked Dr. Sharma.

  “Not all of them.”

  “How many soldiers are there all together, would you say?”

  “Three from the first attack on Maria and me. They were Cyke, Miko, and one with really sharp claws—I call her the Claw Woman. And three different ones kidnapped Mac, but Maria and I met them in the warehouse. It’s not always easy to tell them apart—until you fight them. Then you get a better sense of who they are.”

  Dr. Sharma almost smiled. “I can imagine. Sounds like you’re pretty tough.”

  “I ha
ve to be now,” said Charlie solemnly. “I have a responsibility.”

  “Well, you’re like me, then,” said Ms. Sabbith. “My responsibility is to set you all up so you can find your dad and get him home.”

  “That’s good,” said Charlie.

  Andy broke in. “Ms. Sabbith, did you know my dad when he worked at Talos Global?”

  “Yes,” said Ms. Sabbith, “I knew all the biologists.”

  “So you would recognize him if you saw him?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  “Oh,” said Andy. He seemed pleased with the answer.

  Dr. Sharma leaned in. “Next question,” she said. “Where is this warehouse?”

  Charlie described how to get there, then found it on a map on her mom’s phone, since hers was broken.

  And then Dr. Sharma asked the question Charlie was dreading. “Did you happen to see any other devices in the warehouse when you were looking around?”

  The words hung in the air. Charlie didn’t want to get her friends in trouble. But she couldn’t lie to this woman. Not with her father’s life in danger.

  “Well,” Charlie began, “yeah, we did.” She looked at the floor, feeling very guilty. “My friends Mac, Maria, and Kelly each have one of them.”

  Mrs. Wilde, Dr. Sharma, and Ms. Sabbith all looked surprised. Mrs. Wilde gave Charlie a sharp look. “Charlie!”

  “You didn’t mention that,” said Dr. Sharma, alarmed. “This could be a serious problem—none of the devices were finished or tested on humans.” Then she narrowed her eyes, confused. “Wait. All three of them, you said? Do they have Victor’s prototype too? Because Jack has the one he made. Or . . . at least he did.” Her confused look turned to concern. “I wonder if he’s . . . ,” she began, then she paused and sighed, closing her eyes.

  Charlie wondered what was going on. But then Dr. Sharma opened her eyes again and looked sternly at Charlie. “We need those bracelets back.”

  CHAPTER 9

  More Trouble