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Project Human

Page 15

by Sean McKenzie

Barton watched his eyes close, his body only trembling softly now, his breathing calming.

  Barton smiled. He felt as if the weight on his shoulders was smashed. He felt invincible—in control for the first time.

  “What did you do to him? Adelle asked softly.

  Barton turned. He had momentarily forgotten she was in the room, still in the bed. She had been asleep for hours, and he wasn’t sure when she would awake.

  “You killed him, didn’t you?” she asked in a low, raspy tone. She had seen everything.

  “I gave him life.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Adelle hurt everywhere. Her body was undergoing drastic changes. Her eyesight blurred sometimes; her skin ached; her insides felt as though they were being twisted. Dried tears laced her cheeks in a dim gloss. She had barely enough strength to speak, barely enough want.

  Barton walked over into the dark corner where Adelle was. He stopped bedside. “Do you believe in evolution, the fantasy where humans came from apes?” Barton laughed. “Apes? No one has a clue.”

  “God created man in His image,” she whispered back.

  “I’m going to show you how wrong you are!” Barton stormed away.

  It had been quiet for a few hours when the delirious man began speaking to Darryl once again. He moved out of the dark corner, careful and slow, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He began speaking, once he was close enough that Darryl would hear his whispering.

  “Listen,” he began, “we’re all patients. Even Barton. Can’t you see it? I can. I know. I saw it when they first took me. I saw how they treated him. They were afraid of him.” He began coughing hard, choking on his words.

  “Are you okay? You don’t look good.”

  The other waved off his concern. “They hate him. I hear it when they speak to him, or about him. I can see it in their eyes.”

  “I know things too.” Darryl began to speak, but was cut off immediately.

  The other’s hands and head began moving rapidly, obviously annoyed by Darryl’s interruption. “Listen, only listen. He’s working on us; changing us inside. We’re experiments; nothing more.”

  He began choking again, so hard he couldn’t breathe, doubling over in anguish, gasping frantically. Darryl watched helplessly. It continued for a few seconds, before the other began breathing normally and regained what little composure he had. Swallowing hard, he continued.

  “Listen, listen. He didn’t take you because you’re new. You’re not like us. We’re dying. The changes they tried to make in us didn’t work, and now we’re…what we are. But to them, we’re as good as dead. That’s why he’s picking us.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Darryl saw the other’s face clearly now. It looked drained, pale. The look of lunacy once held in his eyes was gone as well. The man looked like death.

  “It’s because he’s looking for someone like him. He can’t change himself. Not without testing it on us.”

  He finished just as his coughing returned. He doubled over, smacking his hands against the floor. Darryl could hear the pain in his voice as he tried to speak through it, failing. He kept his face downward as he made several gut-retching sounds. When he looked back up to Darryl, his eyes were wide and white, and all the veins in his face were protruding.

  “Hey…” Darryl began, just as the other dropped lifeless to the floor. His body shivered for a few seconds, then quit moving altogether.

  Darryl moved further away, as if the man had died by something that Darryl could breathe in and die as well. He sat scared. He replayed the conversation over and over in his head, understanding bit and pieces of what the other had tried to tell him.

  One thing became very clear.

  Kill Barton, before he kills me.

  T H I R T E E N

  Doctor Barton stood in the darkness watching his latest patient carefully, searching for subtle changes, looking for any sign of collapse in the strands that would be noticeable. The patient’s skin color was returning to a pale shade, the deep bruises were retreating, the blood clots were thinning out, and his breathing was only slightly labored, though that was to be expected. The fact that he was still alive meant the serum was working.

  Live!

  With a smile that lacked any warmth whatsoever, Barton turned to his table filled with vials and liquids, thinking that it would be ideal to continue testing. Let the serum run a full course with others first to see how their bodies responded over time.

  But time was running out. Soon the hall would be flooded with the enemy trying to find him, trying to capture him for their glory. Acting now was a calculated risk. Waiting would only allow them what they wanted most: his death.

  Barton stalked over into the recess of a dark corner, finding a chair and sitting comfortably while waiting. He knew he would not be around long enough to see exactly how the patient would turn out. He needed to flee within a few hours.

  “What are you doing?” Adelle responded suddenly.

  With the dim light shining only over the patient, he and Adelle were both hidden in shadow. Barton remained seated.

  “I’m waiting.”

  He could hear the slight movements in her bed, knowing that she was testing her restraints. A second later she stopped. She sighed audibly.

  “For what?” she asked.

  Adelle’s voice was filled with nervousness. He remembered how hard she had fought with him, the long struggle down the hall to this room, and even while placing her in the bed. She had nearly escaped twice before she was shackled in place.

  Barton said nothing.

  “I had a dream,” Adelle began angrily. “I remembered everything like it was happening all over. But it wasn’t a dream. And everything is real. I know what you’re doing. You’re changing him to be like you.”

  “Not me. You.”

  His less-than-sympathetic tone kept Adelle quiet for a moment. She stiffened, filling with a bitterness of her own.

  “If you let me leave now, you’ll never see me again. I won’t tell them anything.”

  “If you leave now, I will never see you again.” Barton corrected.

  Adelle kept quiet. She didn’t understand what he was saying. She stared into the darkness, finding the figure slumped into a short chair a few feet away. She knew he was not going to let her go. She was held at his will and it seemed very unlikely that he would listen to her pleas. He had changed her somehow, transformed her into being whatever it was that he was. She knew; she could feel it. She understood what sort of place it was. As her memory had come back, answers were not so scattered or out of reach. Everything was in black and white.

  Anger boiled within her. She began venting her frustrations.

  “I remember things.” She couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or not, but the fact that he did not get up or respond was reason enough for her to keep talking. “I remember conversations, where people were talking about you coming to see me. You had to erase my memory. You came to see me. That’s when I forgot everything. That’s when I began…changing.”

  Barton remained silent. Her memory only gave him reassurance.

  “I know you lied to us,” she continued. “I know what really happened that night. So what’s the point of trying to keep secrets now? Tell me, what are we changing in to?”

  “You don’t want to know.” Barton’s tone was cold.

  “It’s you. Isn’t it? We’re going to be like you.”

  Adelle began thrashing in the bed trying to break free. She began screaming her hardest, yelling at the doctor for what he had done to her. Barton remained motionless. When she was finally exhausted and in tears, she laid still.

  Crying hard, Adelle looked up past her tears. Barton stood over her.

  “Just do it already!” Adelle cried. “Kill me!”

  Barton reached down to her, watching her shrink back, watching her fear-filled eyes close and wince. She was just a pawn in the game, he thought bleakly. Was I any different? He unti
ed her hands, and then stepped back.

  Adelle opened her eyes. She swallowed hard, confused. She remained motionless, unsure of his intentions.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I thought you were the one with all of the answers.” Barton said.

  With that, he turned and walked back to his chair.

  Adelle rubbed her wrists gently. The skin was chaffed from her struggle. She had no idea what to do.

  “Why did you untie my hands?” She wiped her palms across her wet cheeks.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. You lived. You made it.”

  Adelle was not sure what he had in mind and she wasn’t going to press the issue. Not yet, anyway. She was quiet for a few minutes, thinking things through, waiting to see what the doctor had planned. When it looked like nothing was going to happen, she began asking questions.

  “Why did you erase our memories? What does it matter if you’re just going to kill us?”

  Barton didn’t answer right away. When he did, he sounded emotionless.

  “The mind is the first thing that has to go. Remove your memory; remove what it is about you that makes you unique. With your mind relaxed, lost in obscurity, having no identity to cling to, then the DNA can be altered. Then the change can take place. I discovered that. I taught them. I created the way forward. The pills work perfectly.”

  Barton shifted his posture. The conversation turned him sour. He hated what he had done.

  “Then I am…?” she drifted, unable to finish the thought. “What are you?”

  Barton stiffened. He turned to face her. His stare was cold. “I don’t know.”

  “Where is Darryl?”

  “I have

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