The Genome Project

by Aaron Hodges

  When Fallow did not speak, Ashley nodded and turned back to Liz. “I guess we found their weakness.”

  Chris shrugged. “She found us.”

  The distant wail of sirens prickled at Liz’s ears, reminding her they weren’t out of danger yet. Before she could speak, though, another movement came from the far side of the room. Beyond Sam, she found the remaining survivors of the project.

  Her heart sank as she looked at Richard and Jasmine. Their attitude towards the four of them didn’t seem to have changed in the untold weeks they’d lain unconscious. They stood on the far side of the room, arms crossed and eyes hard with suspicion. But it was not their faces that drew her attention. Their wings lay half-furled behind them, each sporting dark emerald feathers, like those of some tropical parrot. Their eyes caught hers and Liz quickly looked away, unable to face their unspoken accusations, their anger that she was alive, while Joshua was gone.

  Of course, she thought. Of everyone else who could have survived, it would be Richard and Jasmine…

  Well, Richard and Jasmine, and the girl.

  Standing beside them was a young girl of maybe thirteen years. Locks of grey hair tumbled around her face, and her eyes were wide with fear. A button nose and freckled cheeks only served to make her look younger. How she could have survived this far, Liz could not begin to guess. She shivered as the girl’s eyes, one blue, the other green, found her from across the room.

  Looking away, Liz cast her gaze around the room one last time, searching for the others. There had still been dozens of candidates left the last time she had been there. But now there was only the seven of them, each sporting the plain grey uniforms they’d found at the ends of their beds.

  “Where are the others?” she whispered, turning to face Fallow.

  The doctor bowed her head. When she did not respond, Chris repeated Liz’s question. “Doctor Fallow, where are the rest of them?”

  Fallow looked back up, her eyes flashing. “Don’t call me that. I don’t deserve to be called ‘doctor’ after what I’ve done. My name is Angela.” Her voice shook. “And the others did not survive. The physiological changes…their bodies could not support them. Even unconscious, the accelerated wing growth was too much. Their hearts gave out from the strain.”

  An awful anger spread through Liz as she stepped in close to the doctor. Fallow flinched, but this time she did not look away. “How many did you kill?” Liz hissed.

  Angela Fallow closed her eyes. “I’ve lost count.” Her eyes snapped back open. “But it ends here. I won’t let them take you too.”

  Liz might have struck her if Chris hadn’t placed a hand on her shoulder. Looking at him, she saw the sadness in his eyes, the same sorrow from which her own rage spawned. She stepped away from Angela and hugged Chris to her. She smiled as Ashley joined them, then Sam.

  “Ahem.” Liz looked up at a new voice. Richard raised an eyebrow and tapped a finger to his collar. “Someone care to share the key?”

  Chris nodded. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the little key Angela had given them and handed it over. The clink of the thick steel collars striking the concrete followed as the five of them freed themselves.

  “Are you okay there, Sam?” Chris asked, as Sam finally managed to unlock the clasp of his collar.

  Sam cursed beneath his breath and tossed the collar aside. “Almost,” he said, a shiver running through his copper feathers. Slowly his wings contracted. “Don’t know what the idiots were thinking, putting these clunky things on our backs.” He paused, eyeing Angela uncertainly. “Err, no offense, Doc—I mean, Angela?”

  Angela shook her head, a sad smile touching her lips. “It’s alright. You have every right to complain. I would have…I would have stopped them before they gave you the injection, but I was unconscious. Then I had to wait…until you were stable again.”

  “It’s okay.” Of all of them, Ashley seemed the best adapted to her new appendages. She looked over her shoulder, smiling. “I kind of like them.”

  “Yeah.” Sam’s voice was gruff, but he continued with his usual humor. “But yours are tiny. Did you have to make mine so big?”

  Angela raised a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “It took some research of various avian species to get our specifications right. We looked at genome variation between Andean Condors and the Wandering Albatross to identify the genes relating to wing size in fragmented DNA from Argentavis magnificens.”

  “Argentavis what?” Richard growled from nearby.

  “The largest known bird to have flown,” Jasmine said, surprising Liz.

  Angela nodded. “It could weigh up to two-hundred fifty pounds. Once we’d identified all the genes related to wing surface area, we linked them with those controlling your own height and weight. Thus, why yours are so…big, Samuel.”

  Sam glanced at Ashley. “I think she’s calling me fat…”

  Smiling, Liz looked around their little group, a strange elation rising within her. Even with the open animosity of Jasmine and Richard, there was a connection between the seven of them now, a shared experience which could not be denied. Of all the desperate souls who had passed through this place, they alone had survived.

  They alone had evolved.

  “But why?” she asked suddenly, swinging on the doctor. “Why do any of this?”

  “To stop the Chead,” Angela whispered, “or at least, that’s what we were told. The creatures are spreading, and humanity is hopelessly outmatched. We needed something more, soldiers able to match them for speed and power, who could detect their presence, whether in a crowd or a field of corn. Your strength, your senses, your wings, they were all meant for the sole purpose of hunting down the Chead.”

  “Were?” Ashley asked.

  Angela shook her head. “I am afraid Halt and his superiors have ulterior motives.”

  “Not if I can help it,” Sam growled and started towards the exit. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m about ready to leave.”

  “Wait!” Chris called him back. He looked at Angela. “What about our parents?”

  “They’re…not here,” Angela replied shortly. “I’m sorry, Christopher, but we can do nothing for them here. Your friend is right, it’s time we left.”

  There was a strange pitch to Angela’s voice, and Liz sensed there was more she wasn’t telling them. But before she could question the doctor further, Angela started towards the door. The others exchanged glances, still processing the barrage of information. Feathers rustled as wings were furled, and then Chris started after her, Liz close behind.

  Ahead of them, Angela was reaching out to open the door, when it suddenly swung inwards to meet her.

  And Halt stepped into the room.

  34

  Liz froze at the sight of Halt, her heart dropping into the pit of her stomach. His eyes swept the room, widening, his brow wrinkling with rage. Before any of them could react, his gaze settled on Angela. Clutching a pistol in one hand, he sprang.

  Angela managed a scream before he was on her, his arm wrapping around her waist, spinning her against him. Pressing the gun to her head, he drew back his lips.

  “What do we have here, doctor?” Halt snarled. Angela flinched as he jabbed the gun into her ribs. “Have you betrayed me? Have you betrayed us all?”

  Clenching her fists, Liz inhaled, scenting gunpowder in the air. Halt’s gun had already been fired recently; this was no idle threat. A cold grin twisted his lips as Angela struggled in his grasp.

  “That’s enough!” he growled.

  Halt swung the gun, catching Angela in the forehead. She slumped in his arms and he turned his attention on Liz and the others. “Don’t come any closer.”

  Liz suppressed a moan. Angela had gone limp, but her eyes were still wide and staring. Her hands swiped feebly at Halt, but he was twice her size. Biting her lip, Liz glanced at the others. Her arms shook, the sensation spreading through her body, down her spine, to the foreignness of her wings. A phantom ache started
in her throat, a distant reminder of the collar pressing against her flesh.

  I won’t go back.

  She flinched as her fingernails dug into her palms. Drawing in a deep breath, she unclenched her hands, trying to calm herself, to find a way out of the trap. Her eyes travelled across the space between herself and Halt.

  Too far.

  But Chris was closer. From the corner of her eyes, Liz saw him slide another step towards the doctors. If he could reach Angela…

  No, they were still too far away.

  She looked back at Angela, seeing the emotion washing over the doctor’s face—fear, anger, regret. The woman’s head sagged as her eyes slid closed, her whole body trembling. Then her head snapped up, a new resolve now shining from her face. The fear had vanished, replaced by…

  Liz opened her mouth to shout, but she was already too late. She wasn’t sure what she would have said anyway. Would she have begged Angela not to act? Or had she only wanted to thank her, for finally freeing them?

  Either way, Liz never got the chance. Angela jerked in Halt’s arms, hurling her weight backwards. Small as she was, it was still enough to throw Halt off-balance. He cursed, struggling to recover.

  In that instant, Chris charged. His wings snapped out to beat the air as he leapt, closing the gap in seconds. Arms wide, he reached for the doctor…

  Boom.

  The roar of the gun was so sudden, so deafening in the sealed room, that Liz found herself stumbling back in shock.

  Then Chris barreled into Halt, his fist catching the man in the face, hurtling him through the air. He struck the floor with a dull thud, bounced once, before the concrete wall brought him to an abrupt stop. A low groan whispered from his lips as he slumped down and lay still. The gun slid across the floor, coming to rest in a nook between the floor and the wall.

  Chris landed lightly on his feet, wings still outstretched, eyes locked on their tormentor. But Liz was already sprinting forward, falling to her knees beside Angela. A dark pool was spreading around the woman, the overhead lights glimmering on its scarlet surface. Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, her mouth wide in a silent scream. One hand still clutched at her chest, where a small red mark stained her lab coat.

  Liz knelt beside her, tears misting her vision. A low moan came from her throat as she reached out and shook the woman. The soft pad of footsteps came from behind her, but she took no notice.

  Disbelief threaded through her mind. Whatever her crimes, Angela Fallow had been the only one in this place to show the prisoners any compassion. Twice she had stopped Halt’s torture, and in the end, she had followed her conscience, had freed them from their cells.

  Now she was dead.

  A terrible rage rose in Liz’s chest, driving her to her feet. She leapt at Halt, crossing the room in a single bound. She reached down and grasped him by his lab coat, hauling him to his feet. Almost without effort she lifted him up and slammed him into the wall. He groaned, his eyelids flickering as she pinned him there, but he did not wake. Gritting her teeth, Liz drew back a fist.

  Ashley caught her arm before the blow could fall. Liz half-turned, straining against the other girl, a snarl rumbling up from her chest. Frustration built inside her and she spun. Dropping Halt, she swung at Ashley instead.

  Ashley leaned back and Liz’s blow found only open air. Her other hand shot out, catching Liz in the chest, pushing her back. Stumbling, Liz straightened and leapt at her. A terrible rage burned within her, filling Liz with a need to rend, to tear the flesh from her enemies.

  “Liz!” Ashley yelled, raising an arm to protect herself.

  The scream gave Liz pause. Blood pounding in her head, she drew back, even as a voice in her head shouted for her to attack. She sucked in a breath and the red haze faded, revealing the fear dancing in the eyes of her friends. Taking in another mouthful of air, she faced Ashley.

  “Why?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why did you stop me?”

  “He’s not worth it,” Ashley breathed. “He’s not, Liz. Don’t let this place turn you into them. Don’t let it make you a cold-blooded killer.”

  Liz clenched her fists, trembling with the effort to suppress her rage. Red light flickered across her vision as she looked down at Halt, and she fought the impulse to snap his neck.

  She bowed her head. “He’ll come for us,” she whispered.

  “They’ll come for us anyway,” Chris replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Besides, I doubt he’ll be…anything after this. They were always talking about needing results.” He waved a hand. “And this seems just about the opposite of that.”

  Slowly, Liz allowed her body to relax. Looking at Chris, she nodded.

  He stepped forward then, arms opening, drawing her to him. They stood there in silence, holding each other, the others forgotten, the nightmare around them a distant memory.

  When they finally parted, they turned to face the others. Ashley and Sam, Richard and Jasmine, and the strange little girl stared back. Their eyes shone with emotion: hope mixed with anger, love with hate. Shivering, Liz looked at Chris.

  “Let’s go.”

  35

  The tired hinges of the door screeched as Chris threw himself against it. His shoulder throbbed, and his wings gave a little flap, but on the next blow the door caved. He stumbled after it, his momentum carrying him outside, where a blast of icy air caught in his wings and hurled him backwards. Pain shot through his bare feet as he stumbled on stones. Dropping to his knees, he braced himself against the howling wind, and glanced back at the others.

  They filed out after him, one by one, their eyes alight with wonder. Turning, Chris looked out over a world blanketed in white. Flakes of snow swirled around them, drifting ever downwards, their intricate patterns catching in the light shining overhead. Clouds covered the sky, but after so long inside, it still seemed impossibly bright. Blinking back tears, Chris drank in the world around him.

  Rocky mountains stretched high above them, sprouting like enormous trees from the slope on which they stood. Sheer escarpments of rock raced upwards, disappearing into the clouds, their surfaces white with ice. Farther down the valley the snow and ice gave way to barren rock.

  Around the facility there were no trees or vegetation, only jagged gravel that promised to make walking difficult. They hadn’t stopped to search for better equipment, and now Chris shivered as the icy air tore through his thin clothing. A dull ache began at the base of his skull, though despite their now undoubted height above sea level, his breath came easily.

  Chris stared up the valley, his eyes trailing over the snow-covered boulders, up to where the slope disappeared into a narrow gorge. Glancing back down, he studied the valley as it fell away from the facility. There was not a sliver of cover in sight. Even so, down was tempting. Down would bring them to warmer air, out of the mountains, towards civilization. Perhaps they could find someone there to help them, to protect them from the monsters that would hunt them.

  Steeling himself, Chris dismissed the temptation. It was the route their jailers would expect them to take, and without cover, the chase would be over before it began.

  No, they needed to do the unexpected. They needed to go higher.

  The others gathered, huddling close, wings wrapped tightly around their bodies to fend off the frigid air. His body trembling violently, Chris did the same, his wings curving around to encase him. The relief was instant, and the cold creeping through his chest vanished.

  The others were watching him, wonder and fear mingling on their faces. They knew the next few hours would decide whether they lived or died. Whatever Angela had done to distract the guards, it wouldn’t keep them busy forever. Before long, men with guns would come for them. Chris wanted to be far away by then.

  Quickly he explained his plan, watching as Liz, Sam and Ashley nodded. Richard and Jasmine only stood in sullen silence, their faces expressionless, while the young girl hovered on the edge of the circle. So far they hadn’t gotten a word from
her. She huddled in close to Jasmine, a nameless, unknown quantity. Not for the first time, Chris wondered how she had survived Halt’s trials.

  When Chris finished speaking, he eyed Jasmine and Richard, expecting them to argue, but they only nodded. “Let’s go then,” Richard said abruptly.

  Relieved, Chris turned and began the long trek up towards the canyon. He moved as fast as the jagged gravel allowed him, wincing with each step. Silently he cursed their haste. Boots would have saved them time and possible frostbite out in the mountains, but there was no going back now. He made sure the others were following and pressed on.

  Half an hour passed as they made their slow way up. The wind howled, threatening to hurl them from the rocky slope, but they continued, wings pulled tight around them. Briefly, Chris considered trying to use them, but dropped the thought just as quickly. Conditions were not ideal for a first attempt at flight.

  When they finally reached the canyon mouth, Chris paused, glancing back as the other filed up behind him. One by one they joined him in the shadow beneath the cliffs. Within, the canyon twisted deeper into the mountains. A river flowed along its far side, and the roar of water echoed around them.

  The hairs on Chris’s neck tingled as he looked down the valley and saw black-garbed figures spilling from the facility. They gathered near the high walls, concentrating around several figures in white. Chris blinked, and the scene below came into sudden focus. It was as though a film had been removed from his eyes, and now the whole world was revealed to him in more detail than he could ever have imagined.

  There was fear on the faces of the guards as they huddled close together, their rifles clutched tight. Blood and tears marked their clothing, and Chris wondered what exactly Angela had done to distract them.

  His attention was drawn to the doctors standing with them. There was no sign of Halt, but he recognized Doctor Radly and Faulks. They didn’t seem to have noticed Chris and the others yet, but it would only take one glance change that.