Forgotten Origins Trilogy - Box Set: Infected, Heritage, Descent

by Tara Ellis

  ***

  This time, the stabbing pain in my head wakes me up. It feels like someone has crawled in there with a knife, right behind my eyes. Groaning in misery, I roll onto my stomach and cradle my head with my hands. Rubbing at my temples, the swooshing sound in my ears starts to recede slightly and I push up onto my elbows.

  I finally realize that I’m not tied down anymore and this bit of news encourages me to look at my surroundings. I’m in a small, darkened room with one tiny window set about ten feet up off the floor. Weak, early morning light hits the opposite wall, making me think that it’s now the next morning. The second day of my abduction.

  This thought brings me the rest of the way around. Jacob. Mom. Chris. Are they okay? Were they taken, too? I hadn’t seen anyone else in that huge room earlier, and they were acting like I was the only one here. I cling to the belief that I’m the one they want.

  Would they still be there in Omak if I managed to get out? Or have they already left for Montana, knowing it’s the most important thing right now? Wait. I moan again, lowering my head back to the pillow. I hid the thumb drive. No one else knows where it is! They don’t have anything to take to the senator, unless they contact the professor and try to get another copy of it. If he even kept one.

  What a mess. What had Chris said to me right before he left? Something about losing battles because of underestimating the enemy. No kidding. My humiliation couldn’t be much worse right now. Including the fact that someone dressed me in this horrible, tiny hospital gown. Even my medallion is gone. A new flash of anger makes my head pound again. That was the only link to my past that I had and a family heirloom. I vow to get it back.

  I notice a sink against one of the walls and it reminds me of how thirsty I am. On wobbly legs, I make my way over to it and drink straight from the faucet. I can’t seem to get enough. After several minutes, I straighten and look in the small, foggy mirror above it. The girl looking back at me must be someone else. My thick, black hair is matted and frames a pale, frightened face. At least my eyes are still their unusual bright brown, although there are dark smudges under them.

  To my right is a door and, trying it, I’m not surprised to find it locked. It’s a solid door without a window and it adds to my rising panic at being confined. The space is about the size of a typical hospital room but made entirely out of concrete. Even the floor is cement, with a small drain in the center. The one window is the only source of light at the moment, but there are more fluorescents above me. I don’t see a light switch as I look around, but I do see a surveillance camera mounted in the far corner to the right of the door, aimed at the bed.

  Fighting the urge to pace and pound at the door, I instead drag my aching body back to the cot. In addition to the headache my throat is scratchy, my eyes burn and the glands in my neck are swollen and sore. I sit on the edge of the bed and feel my forehead. Yeah, I definitely have a fever. A chill starts in the pit of my stomach and slowly spreads. They’ve infected me.

  I’ve had several nightmares of how this might happen over the past month. That it’s now a reality is very hard for me to grasp. I keep rubbing at my neck, trying to convince myself that it’s not really the glands that are tender, but only sore from fighting with Seth last night. I pull a scratchy wool blanket up and around my shoulders as I start to shiver. The desire to just lie back down and lift it all the way over my head is so incredibly strong, that I’m tempted to do it.

  Alexandria. This is not your heritage …

  I sit up straight, the blanket forgotten. Dad. Tears spill over and I just sit there for a minute, reflecting on the past and what I know to be the truth. He’s right. I’m meant for something other than this. I have to fight. I cry harder as I battle with my emotions and search for the strength that I know it will take to win.

  I watch the tears as they fall onto my hands in my lap, and I’m reminded of what Susan said to me. They aren’t a sign of weakness, but a reminder that I am still human and have something to fight for. Still human. Susan. Wait!

  The bracelet is still there. Incredibly, it’s still on my right wrist. They knew what the medallion was of course but overlooked the innocent looking jewelry. Hope swells through me and I do my best not to let it show on my face. I’m betting that the dark room makes it difficult for the video to pick up much detail, but I have to be careful.

  How long has it been? How much time has the virus had to multiply in my system? The professor said that the anti-viral meds might work so long as I took it within 24 hours of being infected. I try to settle down enough to do the math. Okay. They took me around three or four in the morning. It was probably near noon when I woke up yesterday and they infected me. It looks like it’s near dawn outside right now, so that would make it what, about eighteen hours or so since I was injected?

  Sweating now, I struggle to control my breathing and think rationally. It could still work. Please God, let the capsule still be there. It would be just like them to discover it and take it but leave the bracelet, just to get my hopes up.

  I start crying harder, letting out all my frustration and fear, hoping that it’s believable to whoever might be watching. Sliding off the cot, I crumple to the floor as if defeated. After a minute or two, I slowly turn and pull myself up on the side of the bed. I am now kneeling on the floor with my head resting on folded arms, my back to the camera.

  With trembling fingers, I very carefully probe the underside of the bracelet with my left hand. It’s hidden under my face, positioned under my mouth. I start to panic as I struggle to find the release and chastise myself for not playing with it right after I got it.

  Finally, I manage to depress the small button and am rewarded with the cool copper piece pushing up against my lips. It’s open. Fear battles with my desire to fight as I think about all the possible things that can go wrong. This drug is untested, and the professor even said that he doesn’t know what will happen to me if I take it. I know what will happen if I don’t though, and becoming a Shiner isn’t an option.

  Shaking uncontrollably now from fever and fear, I slowly stick my tongue out until I taste the copper and finally feel the tiny capsule. Head still down on my arms, my face hidden in the space created, I draw it into my mouth.

  SEVEN

  Beep, beep, beep … that constant, irritating noise will not stop. Why won’t someone make it stop? Turning my head slightly towards the sound, I focus all of my energy on my eyelids. Forcing them open just enough to peer through my eyelashes, I seek out the source. Sitting next to my right shoulder, pushed up close to the bed, is a cart. On it is a combination of machines that I recognize as monitors used at a hospital. The beeping is my heartbeat, and even in my confused state I know that it is going much faster than normal.

  This awareness gives me more strength, and I use it to open my eyes further and look around. I am definitely not in a hospital. It’s got to be the same building as before because everything is still made of that bare concrete. It’s a different room, with softer lighting and more windows, and I am in what feels like a real bed.

  Looking down at my arms, I see that they are free, but both have IV’s in them. I follow the tubing up to various bags of fluids that make no sense to me. I guess I’m sick. I remember taking the anti-viral meds now, and hope that they are working. I developed a raging fever within a few hours of swallowing it and had become delusional.

  It all seems like a bad dream now: the spiders that I swore were crawling on the walls and me screaming and fighting as I was once again held down. I don’t remember anything after that, until now. I still lack the strength to lift my arms, but I don’t need to, to know that there’s swelling in my neck and throat. My eyes are gummy with discharge and my nose is so stuffed that I can’t breathe through it. I am forced to breathe with my mouth open which in turn makes my throat hurt even more. Why did I wake up?

  Listening to the machines, I try and fall back to sleep but become aware of a quiet conversation going on near me. Looking over to
my left, I notice the doctor and Seth talking with their backs to me. It scares me how out of it I am, that I didn’t even realize they were there before.

  “Why is she so sick, Doc?”

  “I don’t know. Everyone gets sick, of course. But we usually have fatalities as a result of complications from a pre-existing illness or secondary respiratory infection. Neither is the case with her. It’s almost like there is a complete cascade effect in her immune system, and it’s attacking pretty much everything. I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Well, that’s encouraging,” Seth says sarcastically. “You’d better not let her die, or there’ll be hell to pay. You knew she was different going into this. He isn’t going to accept any excuses if we don’t deliver her alive.”

  “Yes, yes, yes. I am very aware of our orders. She is stable for now. The next twenty-four hours are the most critical. We can issue a report then. No need to worry anyone until we know for sure if she will survive.”

  My eyelids become too heavy, and they close in spite of my efforts to keep them open. So I might die. I knew it could happen, but I guess I had more faith in the professor than I should have. It really isn’t his fault though, he warned me. It was a choice and, when it comes down to it, I would rather die than become a Shiner, so it’s okay.

  My only regret is that I didn’t get to say good-bye.

  ***

  Coughing. I’m coughing and I can’t stop … can’t breathe. Voices erupt around me, and I feel hands behind my shoulders, lifting me up into a sitting position, my head falling to the side. A mask is put over my face with a white mist coming out of it. I suck it in with ragged gasps in between coughs. Panic overwhelms me and I try to pull at the plastic on my face, but my arms won’t obey me.

  “Relax, Alex. Let the medicine work. It will make it easier for you to breathe.” I recognize the doctor’s voice and a part of me understands that the mist is helping. I try to relax and breathe more normally and find that he is right. Air is filling my lungs now and the spasms are lessening.

  After a couple of minutes, the supporting hands lower me back to the bed and I look up at new faces. Two women dressed in nurses uniforms smile at me, and I can’t help but think of my Mom. I struggle to remember where I am and who these people are. Why am I so sick?

  “Mom?” I call out, trying to lift a hand.

  One of the ladies places a cool cloth on my forehead. “Shhhh, Alex. It will be okay. Go back to sleep.”

  Wanting nothing more than to believe her, I fall back into a troubled sleep.

  ***

  “She appears to have turned the corner sometime last night.”

  “Are you sure, Doctor? We’re already more than a day late reporting in, but the last thing I want to do is give false hope.” Nossor’s voice is stern and I can tell that he is stressed. Who is he afraid of?

  I still feel like I’ve been run over by a semi truck a few times, and my lungs burn when I breathe, but I am definitely alive. I’m also still myself, if my desire to stick these IVs into Seth is any indication of my free will.

  Unable to resist any longer, I open my eyes and look over towards the voices that woke me up. Nossor and the doctor are standing at the end of my bed, staring at me. I’m taken by surprise and hope that it doesn’t register on my face. My only advantage now is if they believe the virus worked.

  “Ah! You’re awake. Excellent!” the doctor proclaims, walking around to me and taking a penlight out of his breast pocket. Nossor comes to stand on the opposite side and I try not to cringe under his scrutiny.

  “Your vitals are almost back to normal,” the doctor says, turning on the light. “I would expect you to be on your feet in another day. How do you feel?”

  As he directs the light into my eyes, my breath catches. I failed to consider the fact that I can’t fake my eyes shining. It takes all my willpower not to pull away from him. There could still be a way.

  “Good. Perfect.” To my surprise he is happy with what he sees. Confusion wells within me as I battle to understand how that could be.

  “Alex.”

  Nossor doesn’t sound happy, and I remember that the doctor had asked me a question. It would be very un-Shiner like for me to ignore him. “I am feeling better.” I say evenly. “Everything will be okay now.” I spent enough time around them to know how to act.

  I make direct eye contact with Nossor then, unflinching. He must be satisfied with my answer, because he nods once briskly and walks away without another word.

  ***

  I’m back in my little room. The doctor was right in his assessment and it took one more day of IV therapy and drugs to get me to where I could at least sit up and feed myself. Last night I fell asleep exhausted from the effort, and now I’ve woken up in here, wheeled in sometime during the night. At least I still have the more comfortable bed instead of the cot, and the IVs are gone.

  The transformation of how I feel now in comparison to just last night is actually kind of scary. I feel very good. So good, that I know without a doubt that the virus did something to me. This abrupt improvement in health was very typical of the Holocene virus. With Mom, her personality started to fade before she got better. I am hoping that if I was going to change, if the professor’s meds didn’t work, it would have happened by now. I’m still scared though. What did it do to me?

  A dripping noise from the lone sink in the room draws my attention. I don’t remember it bothering me before. It really is irritating. Getting up, I cross the room on surprisingly sturdy legs, tugging at the hem of the short gown. I tighten both of the knobs, making sure that the water is off. It continues to drip and I watch it for a while. For some reason, I’m mesmerized by the perfect ball of water shaping at the end of the faucet before it detaches and falls to the bottom with a loud splash.

  Blinking, I reach out and capture the next drop on the tip of my finger before it can fall. Bringing it close to my face, I study it. My fingerprint is magnified under it and I marvel at how the light bends and refracts. I begin to think of the complex math formulas for angles and refraction: the principles of prisms.

  Whoa. What is that all about? I flick the water from my hand as if it’s turned to acid. I don’t like math. In fact, I kinda hate it. I look back at the sink as another splash reaches me. So, I’ve got enhanced hearing and perhaps intelligence. Or maybe it’s just in the math area of my brain. There’s no telling what will, or won’t, be affected.

  Taking a deep breath, I direct my attention to the rest of the cramped room. Remembering the video camera by the door, I try and act as bored as possible. I hope they didn’t catch me freaking out over the water.

  I wonder how long it’s been now. At least a few days, based on what I remember. Rubbing a hand over the stubble on my legs, I figure it’s closer to a week. I had just shaved the morning I went to see the professor.

  The lighting in here is odd. The overhead lamps are still dark, so I check out the window. I figured the muted colors were due to the pre-dawn grey, but to my surprise I see that the window is dark. With some trepidation, I go back to the sink.

  Facing the mirror, I try and prepare myself so I don’t react. It doesn’t work. When I see two glowing eyes staring back at me, I gasp and back away. No. I’m not a Shiner! I am still ME: Alex. I care about my family, and Chris, and everyone else who is important to me. I am not a puppet!

  Trying to control my breathing, I force myself to stand still. I can’t make them suspicious of me. I feel tears working their way down my cheeks and quickly turn on the sink and pretend to be washing my face.

  Wait a minute. I pause, water cupped in my hands. A Shiner would never cry. They weren’t capable of strong emotion. So it really worked? The professor did it? He had described the virus as a key with thousands of teeth. He apparently managed to change the important teeth, but not all of them. Like the ones that allow me to see in the dark. I hide my grin in a splash of water and send a prayer of thanks.

  EIGHT

  I’m dream
ing again. It’s not the same as the dreams I experienced a couple of months ago. This time, I’m scared and I would really like to wake up now. I’m standing in a vast field, surrounded by giants. Well, I’d consider them giants with the shortest being eight feet tall and some nearly nine. They are proportionate though, so rather than appearing lanky and odd they are broad-shouldered, muscular and extremely attractive. The man nearest to me has honey colored hair with contrasting blue eyes and a profile that any Greek god would be proud of. I seem to be invisible to him, as he pulls urgently at a woman who must be his wife. She is equally appealing and fit, but fear is contorting her face.

  There are hundreds, possibly thousands of them around me. Spread out across this deep valley, they are all running in the same direction. Away from something. Their clothing is made of identical cloth and color, but are in various degrees of wear and filth. As I look more closely at those silently passing me by, I get the impression of a battle being fought and possibly lost.

  Above us is a sky that is almost impossible to describe. The color is a weird yellow towards the horizon fading to a greenish blue higher up. There is an iridescence to it, like I am observing it from under water with oil in it. My brain can’t quite accept the two very large planets taking up a quarter of the sky. This is obviously not earth and, wherever I am, they have at least two moons orbiting very, very closely. What must be their sun is behind us and below the mountains, sending out streaks of orange light through the alien landscape.

  The ground beneath my feet is barren and covered with a dull, yellow dust. I reach down to touch it and notice that my other senses are not working. I can’t smell or hear anything. How odd.