Halfway Heroes

by Dustin Martin

Get used to these changes? Barrett’s exact words. Get used to not being able to pick up anything without worrying about breaking it? Get used to her appearance: a disfigured, ugly mish-mash, a girl who looked larger and more grotesque every time she saw herself? Get used to being a freak? No, Lydia couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. There had to be a way to reverse her condition, some avenue these people hadn’t ventured down.

  She had hardly listened to Barrett continue to talk about tests they would run. Especially after she told Lydia it would take at least a year to unlearn “fifteen, almost sixteen years’ worth of growth and interacting with everything.” In hindsight, Lydia knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Wren had been there for half a year already and others for longer. Arthur had said that half a year was the shortest stay, so she couldn’t blame him for believing she’d be there for only that long. Yet Lydia heaped blame onto Arthur’s shoulders anyway, since he’d already lied. She hated him and wanted to land one good smack to his face.

  She stumbled down the halls, following Barrett’s directions to her first class. She had grunted a barely audible reply to the doctor’s telling her to return within a week and to finish her prescription. Lydia wanted to run, to escape. Find some way out of the Cave and discover a remedy on her own. There had to be one. Anything. Surely there had to be a way to reverse the process caused by a combination of mere chemicals, the disaster that had happened at Rooke Pharmaceuticals by Mark’s hands.

  Lydia stood stock-still as an idea hit her. “Rooke,” she said, muttering to herself and to the empty walls. It was Rooke’s own drugs for muscular degeneration that had landed her here. Perhaps he could solve her dilemma, too.

  As she walked by the mail room, she considered sending a letter to her parents. Maybe they could ask Rooke for me. Arthur and his suspicion of the pharmaceutical company’s harboring of terrorists popped up in her mind. I better not, she thought. Her mail might be read beforehand and not get through to her parents or to her. This problem could cause Arthur to keep a closer eye on her parents. It would be easier for everyone if she didn’t alert Arthur that she was planning to go to Rooke at all. Otherwise, Arthur would try to ruin her life more than he already had.

  What if they can’t help or are as evil as Arthur says they are? The former argument had occurred to her, but this was Lydia’s last option. She wouldn’t even entertain the thought. As for the latter suggestion, it was Arthur who had outright lied, or bent the truth, to gain her cooperation. What do I care what he thinks anyway? I’d like to break his arm. All Rooke had done was to emit a disturbing vibe while being kind enough to pay her bill. Lydia had some misgivings about Rooke, but she saw it as a preferential alternative to waiting and living with her deformity.

  Therefore, escape was the first and foremost order of business, so she could be rid of her strength as soon as possible. She refused to stay in the Cave for an indeterminate period. So far, however, Lydia hadn’t seen any path out besides the one she came in. The ceiling and outer walls were both solid rock as far as she could tell. The winding road was sealed off by the large gate and a security guard. She didn’t think fighting her way out would do any good since there was an armory and guards present. Lydia hadn’t seen any other security personnel besides the armory guards, but given the secret nature of the Cave and the people inside, she had to assume there were more.

  Lydia found her classroom and sat near Wren. “Hey!” Wren whispered. She tossed Lydia an apple. “Snagged it from the cafeteria. Noticed you didn’t get down early enough for breakfast.”

  Only then did Lydia realize how famished she was. She thanked Wren and devoured the apple. As she ate, she decided to watch for any opening in the Cave’s defenses and to take advantage of them.

  She spent most of the class stewing in her anger at Arthur. That dirt bag. Lydia was proud of herself for not fully buying into his story of concocting a cure for her. The entire BEP operation probably wasn’t even government related. As she’d already suggested, Arthur could be the terrorist he had so adamantly cautioned her against. That would make the training and “helping” a form of recruitment to aid whatever his plans were. At least that was one possibility.

  On the other hand, maybe Arthur was part of the government. Certainly tells enough fibs to be part of it, Lydia thought wryly. He did have incredible funding and support for the Cave and for the whole operation. Support that would come easier to a government official than to a terrorist, she supposed. So his true identity could go either way, but she started to lean toward believing him. After all, it would be pretty difficult to bring people to the Cave, much less keep them here without a fuss if he didn’t have official backing.

  Before she knew it, the teacher ended the lesson and dismissed everyone for lunch. Wren ushered Lydia along, asking a slew of questions about how the visit with Barrett went. “Did you get a shot? How much longer do you have to wear that cast? You have to take anything?”

  “Yes, a month, and no,” Lydia said. She was quickly growing accustomed to answering Wren’s rapid-fire questioning. Lydia had to admit that she liked Wren. Along with Barrett, Lydia thought that her roommate was the only positive thing about the Cave so far.

  As they entered the lunchroom and waited in line for food, Lydia asked, “Mind if I pick your brain for a minute?”

  “Okay, but be careful. We have a quiz later and I’m going to need it.” Wren began loading food onto her tray. Mashed potatoes, gravy, pizza, steak cubes, fries, yogurt, fruit, and pudding were offered. Off to the side was a small salad bar. It all looked and smelled much more appetizing than the servings at Lydia’s school.

  “What’s the shortest time anyone has been here?” Lydia was curious that there might be some subtle way to cheat the system. Maybe to act like she was in control of her strength more than she really was.

  “Mmm, three months is the rumor,” Wren said. “But the definite one is six months.”

  “Rumor?”

  “Yeah. There was some guy here long ago. Only had to stay for three months. But none of scientists, security, or anyone else acknowledges him. So, it’s a rumor.” She grabbed a drink and Lydia followed her through the long lines of wooden tables occupied by dozens of teenagers and a few small groups of adults.

  “What could he do?” Lydia asked. She sat next to Wren at one of the tables near the corner.

  “Well, they say he could see into the future.” Wren wiggled her fingers in front of her face and used a spooky voice. “That he could see what was going to happen to him. So, the BEP division let him go in three months, figuring he could control his ability. Though this was pretty early in the BEP division’s life, back when they were trying to understand what they were dealing with.”

  “So it was a one-time thing,” Lydia said.

  “Yep. Since then, a person’s here for at least six months. No less.”

  Lydia was disheartened as each opportune door slammed into her face. She sat with Wren and picked at her food. Looking around, she saw that everyone else seemed happy and carefree, as if they had completely forgotten they were stuck underground. No one was sulking or upset. This boggled Lydia’s mind. How could everyone be comfortable with this situation? They were abnormal people, trapped here for an unknown duration, far away from their families and friends. Little to no hope for an antidote to their ailments, and yet they seemed content.

  The more Lydia watched everyone, the more frustrated she grew. She crushed her fork in half. Wren turned to her and asked, “Something wrong?”

  Lydia opened her mouth to answer, but she closed it when Donny sat down at their table. He set his metal cast next to him and greeted Wren.

  “Hey, Donny,” Wren said.

  Jando sidled up to the table and asked, “Is this seat taken?” He sat before anyone answered and flashed a wide, toothy grin at the girls. “Hi, Wren. Who is your lovely friend?”

  “Hi, guys. This is Lydia. She arrived last night,” Wren said.

  “Hi,” Donny said between b
ites of food. “I’m Donny.”

  Jando offered his hand and Lydia shook it. If he was surprised by her strong grip, he didn’t show it. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Jando. I take it Wren told you about me already.”

  “Some things,” Lydia said, returning to her food.

  “Hopefully only the good things.” He winked at Wren.

  Wren dug into her steak cubes and spit them out onto the tray. “Aw, they’re too cold,” she whined. Donny sneezed and red hot lasers streamed from his nose, hitting the steak. They were charred in the blink of an eye. He clamped his cast over his nose. Wren forked up one of the cubes, chewed it, and then devoured the rest. “Much better. Thanks, Donny.” He gave her a thumbs-up.

  Lydia stared at Donny, puzzled. He caught on and explained in between sniffs and honks from his nose. “Different kinds come out if I sneeze harder or softer,” he said. He took a deep inhale from the cast and the water inside bubbled.

  “So Lydia, where are you from?” Jando asked.

  “Colorado.” The twins walked by their table. Cooper flopped by on his fins, scooching along the floor like a seal, and Nina carried two trays while balancing a large helmet on her head. It was filled with water and resembled a deep-sea-diver’s helmet. She staggered a little under its weight.

  The sight of the twins, along with Donny’s heating of Wren’s food was nearly normal to Lydia now. She realized that she was beginning to accept the bizarre abilities of those around her. Maybe she’d eventually become jaded like Wren. But Lydia refused to allow that to happen. This was not normal. This was not an environment she would become acclimated to.

  “No kidding? I have a cousin out there,” Jando said, leaning closer. “So what do you like to do for fun?”

  Jando was charming, no doubt about that. But Lydia was in no mood for it. So she ate as she talked, hoping he’d leave her alone. “Take pictures.”

  “Like photography?”

  “No, I steal pictures. Of course photography,” she said, a little too loud. She ignored the stares from a few people nearby. She saw the confused look in Wren’s eyes. Lydia didn’t care. These people acted like their powers were normal. Turning their attention to someone shouting instead of the strange sights all around them was completely backward to Lydia.

  Jando recoiled but wasn’t deterred. “So do you like it here so far?” he said, unknowingly switching to a worse subject.

  “Oh, yes,” Lydia said, sneering and pushing away her tray. “I love it. What’s not to adore about this place? We’re in a jail, can’t talk to our family or friends, and have no hope of a cure here. Oh, it’s absolutely wonderful!” Now everyone was staring at her.

  “This isn’t a jail,” Jando started, but Lydia cut him off.

  “Oh, yes it is. It most certainly is. And what’s worse is we’re supposed to believe that our problems aren’t problems? This,” she hoisted her sleeve higher and held her arm out, “isn’t a problem? That looks like a pretty big problem to me!”

  She stood, the center of attention. “We’re freaks! That’s what we are. Don’t try to sugarcoat it. How can you all be so fine with it? Your invisibility? His sneezing? Her ice power? You’re fine with all these different things?” she said, pointing at each of her table members in turn.

  Wren shifted around in her seat and looked uncomfortable. “Well, nobody really notices it anymore. We take it in stride and have gotten used to it,” she said. “It’s gotten to be normal for us.”

  “All of us here are still human,” Donny chimed in, “and we treat each other like it.”

  “It’s not going to be normal for me,” Lydia said, snarling and snatching up her tray. The thin plastic split in two, dumping food and drink all over the table. Lydia soaked up the drink with napkins and gathered up the food with her good hand, her cheeks burning. The others tried to help, but she refused them. She stacked the broken pieces and food scraps together into a precarious tower. She added the soaked napkins, which tilted the tower even further. “We’re not normal. We’re the furthest thing from it!” She stormed toward the door of the lunchroom, dumping the lump of plastic and uneaten food into the trash on the way out.

  Lydia headed to the classroom. She sat down alone, and didn’t acknowledge anyone who filed in after lunch.