Heat

by Elizabeth Caroline

  “I really don't know if I can tell you. You won't understand.” I said.

  “Well, you won't know until you tell me.”

  “It's just ... “ I'm scared! I instantly mirrored the scowl Charles was wearing I'm not scared! I told myself.

  Charles took my hand and led me over to a small bench in the corner of the barn where he sat down, motioning for me to sit next to him. When I sat he held my hand in between his, turning to fully face me. “Claudia, please just tell me what's wrong.” He said softly. “What's the worst that could happen?“

  That was true. What could really be the worst outcome if I just told him the truth? I would have trusted J with almost anything, surely Charles deserved the same amount of honesty. “I just don't think this will end well Charles, and I'm...“ I inhaled deeply, hoping to swallow the word scared, something I could never even admit to myself. “I'm worried” I said grateful for the substitution “that I will do something which will disappoint you or your family and I don't want to go through that again.”

  A soft smile spread on his face, “Nobody's perfect Claudia. I don't expect that from you and neither does the rest of your family.”

  “But what if I did something really bad?”

  “Like what?” My gaze fell to our hands. He was still holding mine, his thumb softly stroking the back of my hand. Sighing deeply I looked back up into his eyes. A shade darker than my own, but still so familiar, almost like looking into my own eyes at a later stage of my life. I knew right then, Charles would never hurt me, not intentionally at least.

  “I never told you the real reason I left the facility.” I said. Charles shook his head. “Well, “ I gave an explanation what had really happened on the day I left the facility as well as the days following and the news of my friend John, or Dr J as I knew him mostly. My chest tightened as I spoke, the memories of my last meeting with J still as fresh as ever.

  ***

  It was my 16th birthday and he had come with a porcelain doll which he would always buy for my birthday, but that day I had acted like a spoilt brat, throwing it to the ground.

  “I'm not a little girl J, I'm 16. I don't want dolls anymore.” I complained.

  “Claudia.” He sighed, “I guess I still see you as a little girl.” He walked over and picked the doll up from the floor, laughing as he brushed it off but unable to conceal fact that he was truly hurt. “So, what would you have wanted?” He asked.

  “I don't know! I want to go out and do things.” I screamed. “I'm sick of doing the same thing day in, day out. I want to have a life.” A part of me knew it wasn't fair to take it out on Dr J, but as he was the only doctor I could be myself around, he often got the brunt of my moods.

  “Calm down Claudia. You don't want Q coming down here getting angry with you.” He said closing the door so no one would hear me shouting.

  A shudder ran through me as I imagined Q’s reaction. If looks could kill, Dr. Q’s would have beaten any mass murderer. He rarely smiled and when he did, it was nothing like those usual beams one would expect to lighten up his features. Rather, he looked intimidating, almost like a wolf ready to pounce on his prey. I had never known whether I should truly fear Dr Q, simply viewing him as a heavy handed bully.

  “I don't care if he does.” I shouted defiantly “I’ll set his other hand on fire if he ever touches me again.” I was referring to the time I had scorched his hand when he grabbed me after striking me across the face.

  Dr J looked up at the camera uncomfortably and crossed the room until he stood underneath it. “Claudia come, take a seat. You really need to keep calm.” He said pointing to the bed next to him.

  There was something about Dr J that always did manage to calm me down, so without arguing I walked over and sat down next to him.

  “I really did want to get you something else.” He said, “But to be honest, I don't know what girls your age are into.”

  I smiled apologetically, the guilt of my brattish behaviour burning through me. Dr J had lost his daughter and wife in a car accident 8 years ago. His daughter had been 9 at the time, the same age I was when we first met, which was most likely the reason for his immediate attachment. I looked down at the doll that he held by his side. “The doll is pretty.” I said reaching out for it and noticing that the nose was now chipped from when I had thrown it. “I'm sorry.”

  “It's okay. I understand.” he said. “Is this broken?” he asked looking up at the camera, but before I could answer he reached up and pulled one of the wires out of the back of it. I smiled and gave Dr J a quizzical look, he did sometimes do quirky things when he wanted to make me laugh although he had never damaged facility property before. He didn't return the smile, his face suddenly became serious and he quickly sat down next to me. “Listen, Claudia. I need you to run away, as soon as possible.”

  “What?” I asked, “Why?”

  “I heard Q and Z talking. You're 16 now and they've done more than enough tests with you. They know they won't be able to keep you here much longer.” He stopped talking and took an envelope out of his pocket.

  “That's good, isn't it? I was told I would be set up with a job and somewhere to stay when I leave.”

  “No Claudia. They don't plan to let you just leave like that. They've scheduled a whole array of tests for you, and they're all dangerous. More dangerous than the ones you're used to.” He looked down at the floor for a few seconds, rubbing his head and then he looked straight into my eyes and took my hand into his, “They don't intend you to survive the tests Claudia.” A glaze ran across his blue eyes as he put the envelope into my hand. “My real name is John Bennett, I'm from Outwood Park. There's money in the envelope, as well as my phone number and some instructions. If you leave tonight we can meet up tomorrow and I'll help you go somewhere that's safe for you.”

  My hand trembled as I folded the envelope and put it into my pocket. It wasn't like J, he had always told me nobody would hurt me and it was safer to stay here, now he was determined that I should leave or I would definitely be hurt. Would they really allow me to train until I died? Surely I meant more to them than that! I wanted to ask him more but before I could respond we heard voices coming down the corridor, John jumped up from the bed and started fiddling around with the wire he had taken from the camera as the door opened and two men walked in.

  “The cameras down.” one said.

  “Yes, my fault. Sorry.” John said showing them the wire. “I noticed a wire was loose and tried to fix it. Unfortunately, I'm not as adept with electronics as I am with medicine.” He laughed trying to keep the mood light, but neither technician paid any attention to him.

  “I'd better get on with some work.” He said nodding at me to evoke some form of agreement. I nodded back at him, and then he patted me on the head and walked out. I looked down at the doll on my lap and felt an overwhelming sadness fill me. Although I knew it wasn’t intended, the doll with its olive coloured skin, curly hair and bright green eyes resembled me. It was a pretty looking doll who, through no fault of its own, had been rejected and thrown away. I couldn’t help but feel that the doll resembled me in much more than just looks. I knew how it felt to be outgrown and then discarded. “Sorry.” I whispered as I pulled it in close to hug it.

  I was pretty much allowed to go where I wanted to in the facility so no one questioned me as I walked through the grounds, and when I got as far away from the buildings as I could and then took off into the air.

  I had discovered I could fly, simply by heating the air waves, a few years earlier during one of my breakouts. I remember being excited to tell John when I finally went back to the facility, but he had instructed me never to tell anyone else at the facility, he had become concerned about my level of training a few years prior to this last day.

  Later when I had the chance to check over the envelope he had given me, I found his name, address and telephone number and instructions on how to find Outwood Park. It also had another location that I should look for him at, eve
ry evening at 8 if he should fail to return to his house. The final instruction on the letter was for me never to go back to the facility no matter what happened, and in the event that I never saw him again I should seek out these places under which he had written a list of names, above this instruction he had written the word 'important' and underlined it several times.

  And I never did see him again. I visited his address, called his number, but there was nothing. He was gone. I continued visiting his rendezvous point at 8 o’clock each night for the next few weeks only to be disappointed each night. I probably would still be returning to the same point if I hadn’t come across that newspaper article that night.

  I was eating at a café I would sometimes help out at for small change of meals and there it was on the front page of a nearby diner’s newspaper, “Local scientist's body found in Outwood Lake.”

  It was like being hit, really hard, in the stomach. I was shaking and finding it very difficult to breathe as I made way over to the paper, reading as I walked, but I had barely read the first paragraph when the name John Bennett flew out from the page.

  No way! I thought, this can't be right! The words on the paper merging into a blur as my eyes filled with tears. “Sorry.” I said, which came out more like a grunt, as I pulled the paper from the diner’s hands and read through the rest of the article. John had been reported missing by friends and neighbours 3 weeks ago but his body had only been found yesterday by a group of teenagers who had gone out to the lake for a picnic.

  The article said he had been shot once in the head and detectives were marking his death as a suicide, however foul play had not yet been ruled out. It went on with random quotes from his neighbours who said that he was a quiet man who kept to himself and then it went on to a quote from a Dr Quinton James who spoke about Johns battle with depression since his wife and daughter died 8 years ago. He went on to say that that John had fallen deeper into depression since his daughters would be 16th birthday 6 months ago and had been acting very withdrawn recently.

  Dr Quinton? I repeated the name in my head several times. Dr Q! A sudden surge of heat ran through my body as I ran over the article in my head. I knew John had taken his family’s death hard but I had never known him to be depressed and was certainly not acting withdrawn the last few months, besides he would never have told me he would help me only to go off and kill himself.

  “Are you okay Miss? Did you know him?” The man who had been holding the paper asked.

  I didn’t answer, I just clenched my fists shut and concentrated on the fury that was burning inside me. I knew John hadn’t killed himself and based on Dr Q’s account, there was obviously a lot more to the story than had been reported. “The article continues inside if you want to read it.” The man said “You can have it, it’s no problem”. I turned the pages until my eyes fell on a photograph of J, in the middle of a spread page article.

  So that was it, Dr J was dead!

  I headed straight back to the facility my entire body burning until it felt as if I were a ball of fire tearing through the air. I didn’t know what I would do when I got there, but I knew someone there was responsible for J’s death or at least knew who was. And I was determined to make someone pay for it. But when I got there it was all locked up.

  In all the years I had been at the facility it had never been locked, although that wasn’t enough to keep me out. But when I got inside it was almost deserted. Most of the files from the receptionists’ offices were gone and, making my way through the building, I could see that most rooms were either empty or had had most of the equipment taken out.

  I made my way through the underground tunnels, passing by the research room where I had spent many days undergoing tests and experiments and the training rooms where I would train myself to control and develop my abilities. Eventually I reached my living quarters.

  My bedroom looked exactly the same as it had the day I left it, even the porcelain doll that John had given me was still sat on the bed. I picked it up instantly and hugged it, then after glancing around the room to see if there was anything else I would need I walked out gliding my hands over the beds covers as I walked. With each step I took, a spark ran from my hand onto the bed sheet until the bed was completely aflame. I walked down the corridor in the same manner, setting on fire anything I could. When I reached the research and training rooms I simply stood at the door and hurled in the most powerful balls of fire I could conjure, which I remember brought a brief smile to my lips.

  The fire alarms were blaring as I left the building and as I looked across the grounds I could see smoke arising from the vents that came up from underground. There were several loud bangs coming from underground as if the whole ground was preparing to explode and for once I felt in control of my future. Why didn't I do this years ago? I said to myself as I walked away.

  Passing one of the buildings which hadn't yet caught alight I noticed my reflection in the window; my clothes were almost burnt off, but what was left of them was blackened with smoke and, although I hadn't taken any of the fire proof suits that had been made for me, I was happy that I had at least taken the underwear. I looked down at the doll in my hands who was also black and scorched slightly. Still trying to resemble me are you? I laughed. The words I'd said to J the day he gave me the doll came back into my mind, I'm not a little girl I had said. And now in my heart I knew it was true. I was no longer a child who would be used by people for their own purposes. All that was left was for me to avenge J and then I would start my own life and live on my own terms.

  I left the grounds of the facility and made my way back to Outwood Park, listening out for news about Dr J every day until I heard of his funeral arrangements. On the day of the funeral I followed along behind the funeral procession keeping well out of sight. I knew he didn't have much family, but I was still surprised by the small number of people who had attended. After everyone had left his burial spot, I made my way over and knelt down next to it, placing the porcelain doll down among the bed of flowers that had been left by his friends and family. The doll was still black and dusty, but I knew J would understand. “Thanks for everything.” I said softly rubbing the mound of soil over the grave “I'll make them pay, I promise!”

  ***

  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply after finishing the story. “I can't get rid of the feeling that I should do something about it.” I added.

  “Something like?”

  “I don't know. What would you suggest? How would you avenge the murder of your only friend?” I asked sardonically. A hurt expression crossed his face for a moment as if the question had stung him.

  “You know, I don’t particularly like the way you talk to me sometimes, as if I have no experience of life. Because I didn't grow up on a research facility and I'm not the great warrior you thought I would be. I know what it feels like to lose someone you love, you know? I understand how you must be feeling.” Knowing what he was referring to, I immediately regretted my question.

  “When your mother went missing I went crazy. Nobody just vanishes like that. For a while I thought someone had taken her.” His eyes darted from side to side as he spoke as if he were reliving the memory. “I looked everywhere and I had murder in my eyes too Claudia. But I never found your mother and to this day, I still don't know why she vanished, all I do know is that killing or hurting someone wouldn't have brought her back. It’s the same for your situation. Q and the rest of the doctors may even deserve whatever you have planned for them, but I'm telling you now. It won't bring J back and it won't change the years you spent in the facility. But you could get caught and taken away. And if you don't get caught, there are some mistakes that we make in life that we can't turn back from, and they eat us up from inside.” I already know how that feels, I thought, turning to look away. Charles gripped my face firmly, forcing me to keep eye contact with him.

  “I don't want you to go Claudia. I can't lose you.”

  “I'm sorry.” I said. "I just don’t know
what to do."

  "We'll figure it out together."

  I nodded, my chest becoming light with relief. Why had I even considered leaving?

  Charles sighed a long sigh of relief and pulled me in to an embrace.

  "I'm sorry." I said again, my voice mumbled under a chorus of sniffles.

  “I don't know why you're crying.” Charles laughed softly, stroking my head. “You were planning on leaving me remember?”

  It was true, but the reality of that only made me cry more. Charles didn't move, allowing me to cry for a while, the sniffles turning to full sobs. The comfort in his arms igniting a warmth which spread steadily through my whole body. He really has been the missing link in my life for so long, I thought as I remembered all the times I had lay in bed wanting to cry and feeling numb in the awareness that there was no one there to comfort me. As much as I loved John and I know he cared about me, he had done his best to keep his relationship as professional as possible, and rarely offered any physical contact.

  “You must be hungry if you've been out here all evening.” he said when I finally settled down.

  “Yeh, I am. But I don't really want Veronica or Rachael to see me like this.” I said referring to the fact that I had been crying for so long.

  “They're probably both sleeping, but if you want I can bring something up to your room.” I nodded, that sounded like a perfect way to end such an odd day.

  By the time I had cleaned up and got back to my room, Charles came up with a tray of food. “So, will you be okay for the rest of the night?” he said after putting the tray down on the bedside table.

  “Yeh, sure. I'll just eat then get some rest, I'll be fine.”

  “You're not just going to take off in the middle of the night are you?”

  “No.” I answered defensively.

  “Promise." He said firmly, "Promise me you won't go anywhere without talking to me first.”

  “I promise I'll never try to leave again, as long as you promise you'll never try to send me away.”