The Seven

by Sean Patrick Little

  "I know," said Sebbins. "Just...trying to keep any chance of being discovered to a minimum. I know Dr. Cormair hid the building of this lab from the Trust, but we're not typical of this area of the country. Someone saw us. They may have ignored us, or they may have remembered us. If the Trust has feelers out, those people who saw us may remember where they saw us and give the Trust a lead to follow."

  "Will do," said John. "I'm going to teach Kenny to shoot on the run. It's okay if we bust out the weapons down there, right?"

  "Use the handguns," said Sebbins. "There should be silencers down there, too. We don't need noise."

  "Silencers? Cormair thought of everything, didn't he?" John whistled lowly.

  "Not everything," said Sebbins. "He didn't think his project would be terminated."

  "You believe that?" said Kenny.

  "I do," said Sebbins. "I think he knew they might have done that and wanted to protect his research. Why else would he build a bunker like this?"

  "Good point."

  Sebbins took of her white coat and folded it neatly, laying it over a fallen log. "I'm going now. If you make a fire, keep it small. It's almost four now. If I jog a few of those miles, I should be able to make it to town before five. I'll be back as soon as possible."

  Holly watched Dr. Sebbins walk up the worn tracks in the grass toward the paved road. John retreated into the bunker and returned with nine-millimeter handguns and silencers. He gestured to Kenny and the pair of them walked deeper into the woods, presumably to set up a shooting range. Indigo stood up and dusted off her pants with her hands.

  "You going to go practice your powers?" said Holly.

  "Might as well," Indigo shrugged. "Nothin' better to do, right?"

  "I guess."

  "Maybe I'll figure out how to use them without being an emotional wreck or a blinded-by-anger bitch."

  "Try acting," said Holly. "Remember when we watched that show about Stanislavski? Bring back an emotion from your past and use that to project a new emotion in your current situation."

  "That's not a bad idea. Thanks, Hol. I'll try that. Maybe I can use the time I caught John and Andy looking through my underwear drawer. Should be able to lift a car with that sort of anger." She turned and walked into the shack, disappearing through the trap door.

  Holly felt very alone. Usually when all the others went on their own little jaunts, Holly could always count on Posey. She and Posey would go for walks together, or sit in Posey's room and flip through fashion magazines and watch Pretty Woman for the billionth time. When they were first brought to the Home, Posey and Holly had sought each other out for solace, never quite vocalizing their sadness over being separated from their families, but it went unspoken between them, a bond that made them closer than friends. When they were younger, they spent their free time with Barbie and stuffed animals, graduating to DVDs and iPods as they got older. They comforted each other with popcorn and grape sodas after surgeries or brutal testing sessions, and dreamed pie-in-the-sky dreams about what they were going to do when they left the Home. Now, without Posey, Holly felt utterly lost. Willfully ignoring Sebbins, she sat and searched the skies with her powers, recruiting any bird in the area to her cause and patching into their vision to comb the area, desperately hoping to find Posey flying back or hiding in the scrub somewhere nearby. She stared into the middle distance, her eyes glazed with the aura of her abilities.

  The mountain lion was growing angry with Holly. It was trying to get away from her infringing power. Holly began to busy herself with trying to calm the agitated animal. She submitted thoughts of kindness and comfort. The lion kept pushing back with images of territory and threat. It started to become a game. Holly issued images of tummy scratching and food, trying to get it to crawl out of its den and come down to play with her. The mountain lion tried to clear its mind. Holly eventually left the cat alone, turning off her power.

  Suddenly, there was a small tickling in Holly's brain. She concentrated again and the little brown bat made contact with her again. He followed the van on the drive, and then followed Holly to the lab site. He had been somewhere nearby, asleep, for most of the day.

  "Hey, little buddy," Holly said smiling. She projected images of food and got an orange from the bag of fruit in the shack. She used a knife to cut it in half and spiked the orange on a broken twig in a low tree branch. The bat fluttered out of the woods, landed on the orange, and began lapping at its flesh.

  Holly sat back against the stump and watched the bat eat. Its feelings were contentment and trust. It seemed genuinely happy that Holly was there and was extremely grateful that she was feeding him. Holly sent him warm images: kindness, sympathy, love, care---anything she could think of to make the bat more comfortable. The animal seemed truly at peace around her. Getting a crow to bring her flowers or getting deer to walk up and take grass from her hand was the extent of how she used her powers until now. She was beginning to realize the full range of possibility for her powers. She could see through an animal's eyes or get them to perform tasks for her. She could register the moods of animals and understood how they thought, but the connection with the bat was different. When she broke her control of an animal, it had always bolted as it would have with any other human being or just moved away from her, oblivious to the link she had just created with the beast. But the bat---the bat was unique. It was as if the bat was actually interested in her, as if it wanted to be friends. It was more than a pet-master connection: When she had severed her powers from the bat, the bat was still seeking her out. The bat was curious.

  Holly held out a finger and gave a mental prod for the bat to fly to her, a suggestion, not a command, just to see how it would react. The little creature flapped away from the orange and landed hard on her hand. It was light and its body fur was incredibly soft. She thought about rabies, but decided that the bat was thinking a little too clearly to be in the throes of a brain disease. Holly remembered reading that bats almost always had body parasites like lice. She sought the little buggers out and used her powers to make them all crawl off the bat. She tried not to throw up as they did that. She also tried not to make a more distinct mental link with the parasites. She kept it to blunt commands and then tried to pull her powers back quickly. She made a clear link with a tick she found on her leg one night not too long ago and was repulsed by the arachnid's single-minded thought process: Feed, feed, feed, feed, feed.

  Holly wished she could communicate with the bat as she would to another human. She wanted to know what being a bat was like. She wanted to be able to discuss concepts of higher order thinking. Not that she ever did that with Posey or anyone else, of course. With Posey, the closest she ever came to higher order thinking was wondering what her first kiss would be like or what her wedding colors would be. It would still be nice to have the bat be able to relate to her in sentences or anything other than emotional reactions and rebus-like imagery.

  Holly tried to teach the bat about names. She tried to get the bat to understand the concept of titles, but it was pointless. Animals don't name things; scent works better.

  The sun had dipped below the horizon and night was coming on quickly. Holly shivered. Her thoughts drifted back to Posey, alone in the dark somewhere, scared and confused. They hadn't been raised with religion in the Home, but Holly remembered church from her childhood. She bit her lip and whispered a prayer to God---any god that would listen, really---to keep Posey safe.

  A pair of headlights came around the curve on the roadway. Holly could hear the sound of the tires slowing, and then the headlights turned down the field road. With her enhanced senses, she could make out Dr. Sebbins behind the wheel of a battered, solid-side Ford Econoline van. The engine was raw and loud. The body of the van was leopard-spotted with rust. Dr. Sebbins brought it in beneath the cover of the trees next to the shack and killed the engine. The van sputtered for a moment and wheezed to silence.

  Sebbins climbed out of the driver's seat. "It's not much, but it will do."

>   "Looks rough, Doc," said Holly.

  "Doesn't smell that good, either," said Sebbins. "I got it from an independent dealer on the edge of town. He only had a handful of cars, but he was willing to deal in cash with minimal paperwork. Where is everyone else?"

  "Indigo's in the bunker. The boys are shooting somewhere off in the woods."

  "Well, can you go get them for me, please? We'll have a bit of a cookout and then get some sleep. Tomorrow, we'll head back for the Home and see about getting Andy and Sarah." Sebbins paused and squinted at Holly. "Holly, what is that thing on your lap?"

  "A bat."

  Sebbins shuddered. "Why?"

  "It's the one that saved us."

  "Here? It followed us?"

  "Yup," said Holly.

  "Amazing," said Sebbins. "Why?"

  "I'm not sure. I think he likes communicating with me. I think he was lonely."

  "It told you that?"

  "I don't know that animals have a thought process for 'lonely'," said Holly. "I could imagine cats and dogs do, after all they live with people and get used to company. But wild animals certainly don't. If they did though, I'd bet he was lonely."

  "Does he have a name?"

  "I call him 'Bat.'"

  "Good name. Go get the boys."

  "Will do," said Holly. "C'mon, Bat." Holly tossed the little animal gently into the air and it quickly began flying around her in frenzied circles. "Go show me the boys."

  The bat broke off from its arc and shot into the sky. With her sensitive ears, Holly could barely make out the constant tick of the animal's echolocation as it zigzagged its way through the trees, toward the faint ping-ping sound of silenced handguns being fired.

  Holly could see through the bat's eyes, a dark, fuzzy blur of motion. In her mind, she could see how the bat "saw" with its echolocation---a strange, low-res computer screen of lines and shades. She couldn't tell where the solids were and where there was open space in which to fly, but she somehow just sort of knew by using the same instinct the bat used. As the bat tracked the sound of guns and the boys' voices, Holly began to get the line-and-shadow images of humanoid shapes. She followed the bat's telepathic signals and found Kenny and John in moments.

  "Sebbins is back. She wants us to come in for dinner," Holly said.

  Kenny didn't look up. He calmly raised a handgun and squeezed off several rounds. In the dim light, Holly saw a couple of puffs of dirt and grass and then heard the metallic clunk of a bullet hitting and empty metal can.

  "You're getting better," said John. John raised a gun himself and squeezed off six rounds as fast as he could. The can leapt into the air with the first bullet and kept climbing as each bullet kept it juggling.

  "Amazing," said Kenny. "I wish I had hand-eye coordination."

  "Did you guys hear me?" said Holly. "Food. Us. Now."

  "Keep your pants on," said John. "We're coming."

  The bat suddenly swept low in front of them. Kenny jumped backward. "What was that?"

  "Don't shoot it!" Holly said. "That's the bat that saved our lives."

  "I wasn't going to shoot it," said Kenny. "You got to teach that thing that dive-bombing people isn't polite.

  "He was eating. He goes where the bugs are."

  "He's not coming into the bunker tonight," said Kenny. "I don't think I could sleep with him buzzing around."

  "He'll stay outside. He has to eat," said Holly. "That's what bats do at night, you know. They have to eat a huge amount."

  "So do I," said John. "Let's go."

  They walked back to the cabin, Holly leading the way with Bat's assistance. John and Kenny descended down the ladder into the lab. Holly looked at an open space in the sky where Bat was darting around, grabbing at mosquitoes. "I'm going in now," she said. "I'll be back later." As she broke the mental link to her furry friend, she felt its last mental signal: Sadness.

  They ate silently in the bunker. After Sebbins had told them about buying the truck, there was nothing to say. What happened to Posey was an elephant in the room. The hyper-womb was still out in the open, still with traces of the orange syrupy goo.

  Holly couldn't help but reflect on the dwindling number. At one point, there were seven kids, Cormair, Sebbins, Mrs. Miller the housekeeper, and a bevy of doctors, teachers, and others who filtered in and out of the home. Now, it was down to only four kids and Dr. Sebbins. Holly did not like the way the math was working. She kept wondering who would be next to go?

  There was no television or radio in the bunker. There was nothing to do after eating, so they simply retired to bunks. Holly and Indigo took the canvas cots again, while the other three curled up on the floor. Once the lights were turned out, only a few green glowing balls on the power buttons of some of the computers and the icy blue light of a single computer monitor lit the room. After ten minutes, the monitor went into sleep mode and the room became oppressively dark. Holly lay on her cot and stared at the ceiling. Thoughts raced through her head, but she couldn't grasp them and make them stay for any length of time.

  Impulsively, she let her field of telepathy crawl out beyond her head, scanning the bunker for bugs or mice. Occasionally, she let it crawl out beyond the metal walls of the bunker, scanning the surface for Bat or other nocturnal animals. She was able to locate the mountain lion quickly. When her mind linked with the beast's, Holly found it scattered and confused, a palpable sense of fear flooded into Holly from the animal's mind. What could scare a mountain lion? Holly forced herself to link into the animal's eyes and see what it was seeing. With the cougar's exceptional night-sight, she could make out the outline of a man, helmeted and carrying a weapon---a soldier. Quickly, Holly used the animal to scan the area. Soldiers were creeping toward the bunker. Bat's telepathic signal suddenly blurted into her mind, a panicked screaming, nothing but sensations of terror and worry. It almost overloaded her brain. The little creature's whole being knew nothing but fear, but not for itself, only for Holly.

  Holly leapt out of bed. "They've found us!"

  Indigo heard Holly's scream and leapt from her own bunk. "Where? Who?"

  Holly pointed at the door to the bunker. "There are soldiers out there. They're coming this way! Bat showed them to me!"

  "Calm down," said Sebbins. "They don't know where the bunker is. We're safe in here."

  "They'll find the hatch," said John. "It's sitting in the center of the cabin, big as life. We didn't hide it."

  "They'll still have to get past the door lock," said Sebbins. "They don't have the key-code."

  "It's not a big lock, Doc. A little C-4 will blow it wide open."

  "John, what do we do?" Holly said.

  "Can we make a break for it?" asked John. "It's no good to hide in here. We need to get out, get to the van, and run for it. Do you know where the soldiers are?"

  Holly's eyes clouded and rolled back into her head. After a moment, her eyes cleared and she shrugged. "Bat can't tell me where they are exactly. I know there are some over by the bluff to the northwest, but that's all I can give you right now."

  John rolled out of his sleeping bag and pulled several handguns out of a weapons locker. He tossed one to Kenny and one to Holly. He gave Kenny a light flare as well. Indigo stuck out her own hand. "Lock and load, worm-head," she said. John handed her a gun and nodded. Indigo checked the clip and slammed it back into place in the handle.

  "Only use the guns in a life or death situation! We don't want to become killers!"

  "Why not?" Indigo said. "They were going to kill us in December." Indigo knew from her psychology classes that there was supposed to be a greater good, that if she lowered herself to the level of an enemy, then technically she lost the battle, but she had never been able to buy that sort of rationale. The law of nature was kill or be killed.

  "No guns!" John shouted. "I'll go first. Then I want Indigo to follow behind me---be ready with your telekinesis, Indy. I may need the back-up."

  "I can't do much!"

  "Dirt in the eyes is all I'
ll need. I trust you can manage that."

  "What if they're wearing goggles?"

  "Then remove their goggles and throw dirt in their eyes."

  "I think I can do that," said Indigo. She could feel the tickle in the middle of her head where her new powers were aching to be used. Pens weren't much of a trick, Indigo wondered if she could get enough anger or fear or hatred to generate a large telekinetic field, do some real damage. She was already feeling very scared.

  "Holly," John continued. "You follow Indigo. Stay in contact with your pets. Sebbins, you next, and Kenny, you bring up the rear."

  "If I can shoot, I'm going to," said Kenny.

  "Only if necessary!" shouted John. "I'm not too keen about us having to kill our way out of here."

  "Kill?" said Holly. Indigo shot her a look that was, at best, a cross between "don't worry" and "stop being such a girl." That was always one of Indigo's biggest problems with Holly and Posey---they never knew when to man up and put down their dolls. Indigo prided herself on being tough. She was always the smallest and the lightest, but she had no problem stepping up to Andy or John when they needed it. She even would stare down Cormair when the situation called for it.

  Indigo followed John up the ladder. He moved like a panther, silent and strong, and disappeared into the darkness above the hatchway opening. Indigo pulled herself through the hatch and saw John's shadow hunkered down by the door, listening. Before she could even whisper, John's hand shot out and his finger pressed against her lips. She could make out the faint shadow of his head shaking. Holly was out of the tunnel next. She pressed herself to Indigo's back. Indigo could feel her shaking with nervousness.

  "There are at least five of them, but less than ten," Holly hissed. "Bat says the nearest one is about twenty yards in front of the shack, near the van."

  John slipped a small, square item from his pocket. "Flashbang. Close your eyes. Be ready to attack. Kenny, after this goes off, I want you to shoot the flare into the sky. It will give us enough light to spot and attack. Holly, if you can animal-up any target, do so as soon as the flashbang goes off, okay?"