by Shanon Hunt
But then, wasn’t what she’d done even more barbaric?
An overhead light illuminated the room, followed by the sound of a voice over an intercom. “Hello, Layla. How are you feeling this morning?”
She looked up to see Dr. De Luca peering down through a plexiglass observation window that ran the length of the small room. She didn’t answer, partly because her throat hurt and partly because she was certain that Dr. De Luca was not her friend, despite his cheery Italian accent and endearing pet names that always sounded so heartfelt. Cucciola! Bella!
No pet names today, though. Just a frown. “I thought you might appreciate to hear what has happened to you, how you have come to be here. Yes?”
She didn’t sit up, nor did she turn away. She wanted to hear him tell the truth for once, if she could even trust him to do that.
“Why don’t you come? Sit at the desk so we can have a mature conversation.”
His condescending tone enraged her. She chewed her lip.
“Perhaps another time, then.” He got up to leave.
“No.” She practically coughed the word as she pushed herself up and staggered to the desk, still so weak from yesterday’s events. She fell into the chair.
Just weeks ago, she never would have allowed Dr. De Luca to talk to her like that. She was a Colony leader, and he was a Colony employee. And while the employees were well respected, they were not of the same stature as the Colony leaders. They were not pure.
But she could see that the tables had turned.
“There, now. That’s better, yes?”
His arrogant smirk made her want to punch the window. Instead, she locked her jaw to avoid a scowl and clasped her hands over her belly like a student waiting for a lesson.
He straightened up and shifted to a colder clinical tone, erasing the melodic charm of his accent. “The fetus you’re carrying has a genetic variation of the original strain, a gene defect. It is an unintended consequence of the genetic design we created for this strain. It’s rare. A new discovery, yes? We are still trying to understand it.”
Layla watched his body language carefully. He was a pompous ass and seemed to revel in it, but she didn’t detect that he was lying or hiding something. She let him continue.
“Your original strain, the sensus strain, has shown to be promising, and we’ve had nearly three thousand successful births across our sites. The variant, which we call praefuro, occurs in about one in ten sensus gestations. It’s new to us, and since we don’t fully know its capabilities yet, we need to maintain close observation of the carriers. That’s why you are here.”
“Is it … dangerous?”
“We cannot answer that yet.”
Layla’s hands, which were resting on her pregnant belly, fell to her sides. The nape of her neck prickled with fear. Was she carrying some kind of monster? Was it turning her into a monster?
A killer?
“I want it out of me,” she whispered before her voice shot up to nearly a shout. “I want it out of me. Take it out.”
Dr. De Luca leaned in toward the glass. “That is not an option.”
She jumped out of her chair and pounded a hand on the barrier. “Please don’t do this to me. I don’t want it. Please make it go away.”
He remained impassive.
“I’ll carry another baby. Another strain. Please.”
“Eugenesis is aware of the praefuro strain,” he said. “They have a deep interest in the offspring.”
That was just sick. Twisted. This was never part of the plan. “Why on earth would they want something like this?”
He didn’t bother to answer her question. He pushed himself out of the chair and slid his clipboard under his arm. “We would like you to meet some of the other carriers. They are like you, carriers of the praefuro variant. Talk to them, cucciola. You will notice a bond will form.” He pressed his lips together in another disingenuous smile. “You will feel welcome. Famiglia.”
A mechanical hum behind her made her spin to watch the wall opposite the observation window slide open onto an expansive great room with large wooden beams and wood-paneled walls. Somewhat ridiculously, it looked like a log cabin. The focal point of the room, a colorful play area occupied by six or eight children toddling about, took up about half the space. Lounging in a nearly perfect circle of sofas, recliners, and rocking chairs around it were a dozen or so pregnant women. One mother cuddled an infant tied to her stomach with a baby wrap. Beyond the mothers in a far corner, a few others sat in a small dining area. Classical music unspooled soothingly from speakers.
Layla took in all in with a sense of foreboding. “Why aren’t they in salvage with the others?”
His smile faded. “Yes, I remember your escursioni around the campus. For someone who is supposed to be on bed rest, you have been a busy bee—ficcanaso, we say in Italy.”
She didn’t care about his little Italian lesson. She waited for an answer.
“Not all praefuro are alike,” he said. “We will do some additional testing. Some observation, yes? It’s a unique opportunity. You should feel gratitude.”
“Gratitude? Are you serious?”
But he turned his back on her, and the observation room went dark.
She drifted toward the opening despite her bad mood. The great room was so different from the other facilities. So cozy and inviting.
Warmth washed through her as she stepped over the threshold. This place was delightful, simply magical. The tranquility of the whole scene. The ethereal aura that seemed to emanate from the mothers themselves in their circle. She felt drawn into the room.
But as she approached the circle, the edges of her thoughts became fuzzy. Her heartbeat slowed—really?—so much she felt light-headed, as though she might faint.
A whiff of something heavenly snapped her back to the moment. Someone was serving meat—hot, rich, juicy. Her stomach rumbled, and one of the mothers looked up and smiled placidly. Layla turned away from the circle. Maybe she’d visit with the carriers later. Right now, she needed to eat.
To feed.
39
March 2024, Mexico
Nick’s eyes popped open as soon as the bus slowed at what he assumed was a security gate, but the rest of the passengers didn’t begin groaning and stretching until the blackout glass windows reverted to transparent.
He hadn’t slept. While a symphony of snoring had echoed through the cabin in full surround sound, he was drowning in a sea of story fragments, unable to fuse them together into a plausible hypothesis. EGNX murdered Agent Peter Malloy for discovering their secret of conducting illegal drug experiments. Austin Harris and Allison Stevens were involved. Harris wound up dead; Stevens disappeared, only to reemerge as the EGNX welcome committee, under the alias of Sister Layla. Her warm, engaging recorded speech hardly jived with all those accounts of emotional instability and depression.
Over the four years that he’d stumbled around searching for answers, EGNX had grown so much in size and power, they only barely concealed their identity. They took kids right off the streets with a police escort and slipped through border control with nothing but a wave from the driver.
They had known about the virus before it was released, then they had stolen Jordan’s cure. What were they doing with it?
His answers would come from behind the daunting wrought-iron gate that the bus just passed through. He shivered, nudging Eddie into a snort.
Eddie raised his seat upright and looked out. “Whoa! This place is fire.” His exclamation was enough to get the rest of the bus sitting up.
Nick might have been more impressed if he hadn’t already been familiar with the Vitapura Wellness Center. This place looked exactly like he’d expected, only bigger. They might’ve named it Vitapura Grande. Desert palms wrapped with white lights and decorative plant urns lined the walkway to a Spanish-style adobe building that blended into the sprawling, rust-colored desert. Once again, EGNX had clearly spared no expense.
The bus exhaled to a
stop, and people moved to stand up.
“Welcome to the Colony, my friends,” Michael called from the front. “This is the end of the line for me. Once you exit the bus, you’ll be greeted by our team of welcome agents and intake assistants who’ll introduce you to the Colony, explain the next few days, and get you situated in your temporary residence. Restrooms are just inside for you to freshen up, and make sure you pick up a mango smoothie before the walking tour. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you you’ve never had anything so delicious.”
“I can’t believe I’m here,” Eddie said.
“Me neither,” Nick answered as he stepped into the aisle. And he meant it.
The aridity of the desert air was stifling even to Nick, who’d grown up in Phoenix. They had to be somewhere in central Mexico—the Sonoran Desert, perhaps, or Chihuahua, given the seventeen-hour drive, including the slow-down-and-wave through a border control station. They were nowhere near the coast, that was certain. Mountainous terrain rose to both the east and the west, effectively hiding their location from the cities while providing a steady water supply from rivers. Palm trees weren’t actually that easy to sustain in the desert.
Nick followed the group to a patio with mist sprayers, like you’d see at a fancy outdoor restaurant back in the old days. He smiled. They really had rolled out the red carpet for their unsuspecting victims. Part of him wanted to blow his cover and warn all these kids that it was a trap. Couldn’t they see it was too good to be true?
Eddie handed him an ice-cold mason jar with a handle and a straw. “Bro, this shit slaps. This is my second one.”
Nick gratefully accepted the smoothie and prepared to slake his thirst, but his appetite vanished as a woman all in white stepped onto the patio with two armed security guards.
“Welcome to the most exclusive club on Earth! My name is Alianna. I’m a junior recruiter here at the Colony, and I’ll be taking you on a walking tour through the induction campus. But first things first. I hope everyone’s had a chance to use the facilities. We’ll be leaving in just a couple of minutes.”
As he moved toward the bathroom, Nick couldn’t help counting the security cameras hanging from each of the pillars holding up the decorative trellis. Eight that he could see. That was a lot of coverage in such a small space. What were they looking for?
By the time he returned from the bathroom, Eddie managed to put away three smoothies, and his face glowed with happiness.
Alianna waved her arm to get the attention of the group. “I’m going to repeat what you already heard from your recruiter because it’s important that everyone realizes the conditions on which you’ve been invited to join us.”
She drew nearer as the group’s small talk petered away. “First, you’re interviewing for a position at the Colony. Although our recruiters have been trained to identify the types of candidates we’re looking for, you’re not guaranteed a slot in our induction program until you’ve been fully evaluated. Over the next three days, you’ll be given a set of psychological and intelligence tests, you’ll visit our infirmary for a physical, and we’ll need to take blood for a full DNA sequence test.”
Nick wondered if the DNA test would include a forensic identification. Given what he’d seen so far, it was likely.
“At the end of the three-day recruitment period, you will either be deemed ineligible for the program or you’ll be invited to sign a five-year contract. The contract is not negotiable.”
She paused a moment to let that sink in.
“If the Colony decides you aren’t a good fit or if you decide that the program is not for you, you’ll be scheduled for a return trip back to your pickup location, with a small financial settlement for your time and trouble. Any questions about this process?”
“Yo, how much money we get?” asked a bony girl with a head of ratty bleached-blond hair with four-inch dark red roots. It reminded Nick of a candle wick. She stood with her hands on her hips and attitude all over her face.
Alianna forced a smile. “Well, if I gave you five hundred dollars, would you get back on the bus and go back home?”
“Lowkey, yeah, prolly.”
Alianna pulled out an envelope, fished out five bills, and strode over to the bony girl. “Thank you for your consideration. Go ahead right back through those doors, and our next shift driver will get you situated on the return bus.” She handed her the bills.
“Pfft. Later, y’all.” Candlewick gave a wave and sauntered back to the bus.
Nick’s mouth fell open. That was it? They could come in, collect a stack of Benjis, and go back home? Impossible. How was that an effective recruiting program? How had the Colony flown under the radar all this time if people landed right back home after a round trip on a comfy bus with a belly full of mango smoothie and a pocket full of cash?
“Would anyone else like five hundred dollars to go home?”
Nick expected every hand of that group of zoomers to shoot up, but to his surprise, no one took the offer.
“Good,” Alianna said with a smile. “That is the first test of your fitness for the Colony. If you don’t actually want to be here, we don’t want to have you. Our program evaluation process is extensive and costly. We don’t want to waste your time, and we don’t want you to waste ours.”
She gave another benevolent smile. Nick shifted his weight; they were eating out of her hand now.
“Okay, follow me,” she said. “We’re going to start with the first of our four pillars of success, physical strength and fitness. We’ll begin the tour at our state-of-the-art recreation and fitness center.”
Unbelievable. Nick fell in with the group and followed Alianna. Apparently when you had all the money and power you need—
“Excuse me, sir.”
Nick whipped around to see two guards moving in on either side.
“Our head of security would like a word with you.”
He slowed, unsure of how to respond.
“This way, please.”
Eddie pulled back from the tour to wait for him, a look of worry on his face. Nick gave him a nod and a thumbs-up before following the guards up a perfectly manicured cobblestone path to a drab square cement building, offset from and overlooking the rest of the expansive campus.
40
March 2024, Mexico
Mr. Amadi Aroyo, head of EGNX security, according to his door plate, was a big enough guy to pull off intimidating, but Nick wasn’t getting a menacing vibe. The man slouched over his desk, leaning on his elbows as he reviewed the iPad in front of him. His posture, coupled with his scruffy unshaven face, gave him the look of a grizzly bear protecting his dinner but his voice had more of a dopey teddy bear tone.
A poster-sized map of the Colony behind Aroyo’s desk caught Nick’s attention. The campus was much bigger than he imagined, built in a wheel-and-spokes design with the security building at the hub and clusters of buildings along the perimeter forming a pentagon. Interesting. Clearly, the intention was to silo the various aspects of the Colony’s illicit research activities.
He lowered his gaze when Aroyo cleared his throat.
“It’s my understanding that you were a last-minute addition to the group that came in from Los Angeles. Is that right?” Aroyo held out Victor’s identification between his long index and middle fingers.
“That’s right.” Nick returned the card to his wallet.
“And how did you become aware of the bus?”
“I was just chillin’. Some dude hanging around the camp mentioned it. I didn’t have anything else going on, decided what the hell.” Nick gave him a half shrug and lowered his gaze to avoid being perceived as defiant.
Aroyo crossed his arms and looked at Nick through narrowed eyes. “Is that so? And what was the son of a wealthy attorney doing hanging around a homeless camp?”
Okay, maybe the teddy bear wasn’t as dopey as he looked.
“I wasn’t hanging around the camp. I was hanging around the bar across the street. Looking to see if some
one wanted to buy a mo—” He coughed. “A Harley-Davidson.”
Nick was a master at selling improvisational lies, especially when he had to dig himself out of a hole, but Aroyo didn’t appear to be buying. He sat back and crossed an ankle over his knee. His amused expression read Go on, tell me more of this bullshit story.
What would Victor the douchebag be doing at a bar?
Nick raised both hands. “Okay, okay, I wasn’t trying to sell a hog. Truth is, I was looking for the prick that fucked my girlfriend.”
That seemed to resonate. “I’m aware of your history of aggression. This is the reason I thought we should speak.”
Nick nodded contritely.
“It’s not our custom to invite or accept recruits who have a history of violence or crime. That makes you a poor fit for the Colony. We’re a community of peacefulness and kindness. We’re successful because we’re very selective in who we bring into the community.”
“That was the old me,” Nick said. “I’m making a fresh start. Looking for a change.”
“I don’t believe people can change.” Aroyo moved to a freestanding electronic device in the corner of the office. “But this decision is not up to me.” He returned with a gadget that looked like a pen. “Your finger, please.”
Nick tried to keep a poker face, but it was game over. The machine was bigger and fancier than the one at Nyla’s office, but he recognized the name on the side, BioQuant. This device performed DNA sequencing for forensic identification. Once they saw the name Nicholas Slater and associated him with the nutjob who’d been stalking them for four years, he’d be worm food. Just like Austin Harris.
“Ow.” He pressed his ring finger against his jeans to stop the blood, while a flurry of escape options exploded and fizzled out like fireworks in his brain. A bribe? No. A threat? No. Pleading? No. Running? Maybe. Fighting? Aroyo had six inches on him, at least. Hell no.
It took less than thirty seconds for the screen to flash DNA Match Confirmed, followed by Nick’s picture displayed on the screen. Too-long hair flopped over one eye, and his unshaven face and unsmiling mouth made the photo seem more like a mug shot than a government ID photo.