anything else? You are fully prepared to walk away from everything? You are positive?”
Barton inched forward. “Give me the cure.”
Whitmere nodded. He looked defeated. “I will inform the Council and tell them that you are leaving.”
“I think you’ll tell them what you wish,” sighed Barton.
Whitmere swallowed hard. “Do me one last favor? Escort her to her room while I rush to see if the Council is in?”
“Of course.” Barton nodded obediently. Run and tell the Council that your plan failed. Run and warn them. Or simply run for your life.
Whitmere exited the room. Barton helped Adelle to her feet. She was still too out of it to walk on her own. He unfolded a wheelchair and sat her in it. Pushing her out of the lab, he saw no sign of Whitmere.
They reached Adelle’s room without incident. He put her in her bed. She was whimpering. She was alive, though.
He reached into his pocket and felt the vial stolen from Whitmere’s lab. Time for more testing. This time he’ll use the new serum, said to work twice as fast.
He bent down to Adelle’s ear and whispered, “See you soon.”
In the middle of the night, the screaming began. Darryl awoke at once, startled, confused, and not knowing whether it was real or if he had dreamt it. Wide awake now, all he heard was silence.
A dim yellow light came through the window of the door. The hall light began flickering on and off. It was annoyingly hypnotic. It was not bright enough to do anything other than place dark shapes in clusters around its perimeter. Darryl stared at the door’s window. As his eyes fixed on the lighted square, his mind drifted back to Adelle. She was out there. Somewhere in a room like his own. Alone, maybe thinking of him.
Another amnesia patient. I wonder what happened to her. I wonder if she’s nearby. She would be given the same treatment, so it was likely that they would place her in the same ward. She could be one room over. Lying in bed, too. Awake. Talking to me in her head.
He frowned. His sigh was depleting.
Yeah, right. She’s probably got a good life waiting. Married. Kids. Her husband is probably a professional athlete. She’ll remember him and forget she even saw me. Probably already has.
Darryl turned in his bed, putting his back to the door, closing his eyes to the dreams that would not be coming true. He felt isolated. It was heartbreaking to be alone, feeling forgotten and abandoned. He was starving to be fed his memories. He was desperate to cling to anything that he thought would identify him. Anything that wouldn’t leave him.
I don’t even have my dream now. Everything has left me.
He squeezed his eyes shut hard. He blanketed himself in the warmth of depression and self pity. Something needed to change. Something positive. The doctors told him the road to recovery was long, but they had no idea how dark it was.
Then she screamed.
It was shrill, loud and filled with terror.
What the…?
Darryl sat up instantly. His heart pounded. His eyes were wide and alert. A shadow rushed by his window. He was scared. The scream came again, louder. It was closer. And then he thought he recognized it. He walked to the door and waited beside the window. He heard her then, her muffled whimper, her screaming gagged through the struggle. His heart pounded harder. He recognized the voice. Swallowing hard, he looked out the window. Nothing.
But he heard the approach. A dragging sound; something soft. Not metal, not heavy. Darryl’s eyes still penetrated into the yellow flickering light.
Then figures passed—two bodies dragging one.
Adelle!
Gagged and bound, her eyes found his. She fought hard, arms flailing, thrashing and elbowing her male captors, as she screamed, searching for a chance to escape. As the two men lost their balance, Adelle ripped the cloth from her mouth and ran to Darryl’s door.
Darryl pressed himself against the window in shock. He saw the fear in Adelle’s eyes. Then the men were grabbing her.
“Darryl!” she screamed. “Don’t take the pills! Don’t listen to them! Don’t let them touch you!”
Darryl stood speechless. The men tackled her to the floor, trying to gag her once more.
“Remember me!” she screamed just before the cloth was stuffed into her mouth once again. The last of her efforts were muffled as they drug her away.
“Adelle!” Darryl yelled. “What’s going on?”
Abruptly a face appeared in the window. Darryl jumped back. Cruel eyes burned into his own. Then suddenly the figure was gone.
Darryl moved close to the window again. He saw the other man walking away, following the others. He stared for almost an hour after they were gone. No one else came. No one followed them. Still he waited. He envisioned her running back to him, free, smiling.
She never came back.
He replayed her warnings over again. It didn’t make sense. But the sheer panic in her voice and the terror in her eyes were convincing enough for him to consider that she knew something he did not.
He realized then who it was at the window. The set of beady, cold eyes he had seen earlier. It was the doctor. The one they called Barton.
E I G H T
See you soon.
The chilling voice echoed in Darryl’s mind. It pulled him from his sleep in a quick, sharp gasp. He was instantly afraid. He frantically rubbed his eyes, but he saw no one. He was alone in the darkness.
His body was laced in a cold sweat as he sat upright and stared into the shadows. The hall light had stopped flickering, stopped shining altogether now, leaving his room shrouded in blackness. Staring at the door’s window, doing so now out of habit, out of expectance, he waited for someone to show, for a shadow to slip by. But he saw nothing. The only presence he was aware of now was the silence.
Darryl lied back, feeling the cool wetness of his pillow and sheet press against his hair and skin as he tried to get comfortable once again. He took a deep breath and began convincing himself that the voice was part of a dream. But his dreams lately were just as empty as his memory. He swallowed hard; his eyes moved nervously, scanning the room. He was wide awake now, and falling back asleep was not going to happen easily.
Adelle flashed before him. Her face was strewn in lines of panic; eyes plagued with terror, arms reaching, fingers extending, voice pleading for him, for help that he wasn’t giving. The image appeared so fast that Darryl thought for a second it was real. Impulsively, he looked to the door. Her words avalanched everything in his mind.
Remember me!
The connection Darryl felt to her could not be dismissed. It was more than just his physical attraction to her, much deeper than superficial. There was substance there. It was undeniable. The way she had called to him with such urgency, such normalcy, as if she knew exactly how he would react, was all too real for Darryl to simply ignore.
Where did she go? Why was she taken like that? What did she do wrong? What did she know?
I’ve never seen anyone look so scared. Why wouldn’t they try to calm her? It was like they didn’t even care. Like her feelings didn’t matter. Who could be that cold? Where’s their humanity?
Darryl fought to grasp the answers to his questions. But the questions were abundant, and the answers were obscure. Finally, exhaustion overcame him. His eyes shut, his breathing slowed. Before sleep washed away all his thoughts, he promised himself that he would never forget her.
It was mid-morning when Darryl awoke again. A tray of food, two orange pills, and a glass of water were sitting on a cart next to his bed. He sat upright, leaned over and took the pills, bringing them up to his mouth. Then he stopped. He stared at them in question. He remembered Adelle’s plea—her warning not to take them. He stared at them in a new fashion; he was inspecting them. He was curious about them now, as before he had simply taken them because it was what he was told to do.
Something moved outside his window. His nurse, watching. One eye shifted to find Darryl’s. The look made Darryl swallow the pills. The nurse turned
away, but didn’t leave.
Darryl cast aside his suspicion and doubt and put his trust in Whitmere’s word. The pills were made to help. They were fine. He was putting too much thought into all of this and just needed to let the doctors do their jobs.
He turned in bed, placed the tray on his lap and convinced himself to eat when the door opened and Whitmere walked in. The doctor was troubled by something.
“Good morning,” Darryl greeted.
“How do you feel this morning, Darryl?” Whitmere stood beside him.
“I’m okay. Still a little tired, though.”
“Darryl, has Barton come to visit you this morning?”
Darryl shook his head. “You two don’t get along, do you?”
Whitmere was taken by surprise. “Well, sometimes it feels as if we are from different planets.”
“Well, everyone has their own way of doing things.”
Whitmere’s face sagged with frustration. “I need to know right away if he comes in contact with you.”
Whitmere stared at him for a second, making certain Darryl understood he was serious. Then he turned and walked for the door.
“How is she?”
Whitmere paused, turning back. “Who?”
“Adelle. Is she doing better today?”
Whitmere stared blankly. He had no idea what Darryl was talking about.
“She just seemed so frightened last night. I was just curious.” Darryl finished to himself. He felt embarrassed.
“What are you talking about?”
Darryl realized then that Whitmere was unaware of Barton’s actions. He told the doctor what he saw.
Project Human Page 9