by Jeremy Flagg
“We’ve done this before.”
Ivan didn’t hide his annoyance with the girl. Mark assumed the man didn’t have children of his own. He was an excellent scientist, but dealing with a single child nearly crippled him. Mark had frequent conversations coaching him at how to coax the best out of her. Ivan rubbed his eyes, attempting to placate the girl.
“Want to try something a bit more difficult?”
“I guess.”
Ivan set down the clipboard and stood behind Ariel. “I want you to close your eyes. In a room not far from here, I’ve placed similar items on a table. I want to test your abilities without relying on your other senses.”
Mark hadn’t seen him perform this test before, but he was indeed curious. If Ariel had the ability to affect physical objects from a distance, it would mean she held an entirely different level of danger for the outside world. Mark put aside the implications and quietly cheered her on. “You’ll show him, Ariel.”
“Close your eyes, Ariel. I want you to imagine yourself walking outside this door and turning right. Can you do that?”
“I’m at the elevator.”
“Good girl.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Step inside the elevator and go up three levels.”
“It’s moving.”
Mark walked out to the door that would lead to Ariel’s housing quarters. He was shocked to see the elevator doors close. It moved upward, just as Ivan had instructed. Mark was beginning to sense they were on the verge of discovering something terrifying enough it could end their work here.
“I want you to step off the elevator and walk down the hallway. Stop when you see a door with my name on it.”
“I see it,” she said softly.
Mark pressed his hands against the glass as he watched. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or part of the experiment, but a pressure pushed against the exterior of his skull. It started as a mild buzzing but faster than he could explain, a headache started just behind his eyes.
“Go into my office. On a table in the middle of the room, you’ll see a Rubik’s Cube. I want you to solve it.”
Ariel’s hands lifted into the air, her fingers poking and gripping an unseen object. She spun the invisible cube in her hand. Mark had observed her use her abilities hundreds of times. It was only when she taxed herself that she started relying on physical gestures to complement her mind. She grimaced, her hands shaking as she continued spinning her fingers.
“Concentrate on the cube, Ariel.” Ivan firmly gripped her shoulders while she moved her hands. Mark found it curious that Ivan physically interacted with the girl. The researcher rarely stepped inside her personal space. He would say something later. He gasped at the pain pulsing through his head, making it difficult to concentrate. He leaned against the glass, the cool surface distracting him from the thumping in his head.
“I can’t solve it.”
“Keep trying, Ariel, you can do it.”
Mark touched the divot at the top of his lip. Blood smeared onto the back of his hand. He slid down the wall. He fought to keep his eyes open, but as the pain seared through his brain, he relaxed. He understood the edges of his vision going dark meant he’d be out cold in a moment.
Nothingness.
Seconds passed. Air rushed into his lungs as he inhaled, gasping for breath like he’d been drowning. He grabbed at the wall, looking for anything to help him sit upright. His movements seemed desperate, as if he was begging his body to respond to his commands. As he turned his head to examine the wall, he found he sat in an empty room. No, not empty—walls, floor, and ceiling were gray, seamless, and void of any exits.
“Hello,” he said, his voice swallowed as if he whispered in a vicious storm.
The motion blur of his hand reminded him of time-lapse photography. He tried not to think about how his skin appeared desaturated, as if the color was siphoned from it. Worry set in as he moved his legs. His limbs responded as if both had fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he had a feeling he wasn’t in the observation room.
“Ariel,” he whispered.
He got to his knees and then stood. Part of the wall faded, becoming translucent, allowing him to see through. The glass tinted and hid Ivan and the girl. A door faded into place on the wall. He reached for the handle to the door and found it was missing. He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart picked up its tempo as his fear grew.
“Ariel!”
He froze. The hair on his arms stood on end as an eerie sensation coursed through his body. Something in his gut told him there was another person in the room with him. He wasn’t sure how anybody could get into the sealed room, but he knew somebody was close by. He tried not to hyperventilate as terror creeped into his mind.
“It’s the girl,” said a distant voice.
Mark spun, arms flailing, pushing his back to the wall. The far end of the room dissipated into the shadows. Somewhere inside there, another person hid from sight. He couldn’t fight panic anymore; his heart raced. He heard the pounding in his head, a raging thumping, nearly deafening him.
Out of the shadows emerged Ivan. “The girl has more abilities than we thought possible.”
The man’s skin was as desaturated as his own, but on the scientist’s stretched body, the lack of color almost appeared ghastly. Ivan’s movements were slow, deliberate and calculated. He stepped up to the tinted glass and touched it, giving the material a firm push before admitting it wouldn’t budge. He stepped closer to Mark and leaned in just close enough to inspect him.
“What’s happening?”
“I have been working with her for months, but this is the first time I can say this has happened.”
“What is this?”
Ivan gave a slight shrug. “I do not believe we’re awake.”
“How are we in each other’s dreams?”
“How does a mentalist communicate without moving their lips?” Ivan asked, his sarcasm reminded Mark how they dealt with the unbelievable everyday. “Somehow the girl has thrust us together in this shared space. It appears as if it is some sort of limbo.”
Mark’s pulse slowed. Even with the awkward man in the room with him, at least he had a scientist handy. Hopefully he could bring some amount of reason to this conundrum. Ivan turned and studied the room, brushing his fingers where there should be seams, but avoiding the darkness at the far end.
“How do we get out of here?”
“I’ve worked with one telepath before. Her abilities only allowed her to hear faint whispers. She wasn’t adept enough to send thoughts, let alone send two minds to a place like this.”
“Do we wait it out?”
“I have a suspicion that hours could pass here while barely a fraction of a second has passed in the physical world. I wouldn’t be surprised if my body has yet to hit the ground.”
“What did you have her doing?”
“Guided meditation technique. Ariel strained to complete the task at hand. Then something changed in the air.”
“The pressure? I felt it too. I was just about to pass out.”
“Maybe because we’re unconscious, this is possible?”
“How do we wake?” Mark reached for the handle again and found the fixture had returned. He pushed at the door open. Where it should have opened into the lobby of Ariel’s quarters, it entered into the room she and Ivan had been in. As he stepped closer to the table, a putrid smell began to fill the room.
“Do you smell it?”
Mark couldn’t locate Ivan. He took a step away, back toward the door. As he crossed the threshold, he felt as if he was thrust from the room. His eyes opened and he was lying on the floor with two of the security team kneeling next to him.
“He’s awake.”
“Get him to medical.”
He was groggy, his mind trying to make sense of what happened. One of the men held a white capsule in his hand. The smell, he thought, smelling salts. The two men picked him up and carted him toward medical. In
the elevator he finally got his bearings enough to stand on his own feet. The guards were curiously eyeing him. Both men had guns on their hips, replacing their standard issue Tasers.
“What about Ivan?” Mark asked.
One of the men in the black turtlenecks eyed him curiously. “Dr. Volkov is with Ariel in medical.”
Mark’s blood pressure went up, the beeps on the monitor sounding closer together as he feared the worst. “What happened to her?”
“He had to sedate her,” the man said. “You’ll have to watch the video to believe it. Goddard thinks that man might be the only reason you’re alive.”
He wanted to see the tape, to see exactly what occurred in the seconds after he passed out. However, more than that, he wanted to make sure Ariel was being taken care of. He wasn’t going to leave her alone with Goddard while she was unconscious. At least Ivan, no matter how unsettling he was, stood by her side. While he might not be Mark’s first choice, he was the only other man in the center that wanted her alive, even if for less than righteous reasons. He needed answers and Ivan was the only one who might be able to answer them.
Chapter 8
2033
Jasmine believed the kid held back when it came to his abilities. Conthan grunted from the exertion. If it wasn’t for Vanessa possessing him and using his powers for him, they’d still be standing in a street in Boston. She didn’t like that the telepath could eavesdrop on their every thought, but certain uses of the woman’s abilities were effective. Even now, she had no doubts that Vanessa heard everything passing through her mind.
“We split up,” Vanessa said.
“Can’t find them for us?” asked Alyssa.
Jasmine knew by the bothered look on the woman’s green face it wasn’t good news. Her eyes hovered just right of pain, but not quite anger. Shock gripped Vanessa, leaving her unable to continue. Jasmine said it for the telepath.
“They’re all dead.”
It had become their routine. Despite Jasmine’s moments of cold ruthlessness, Vanessa remained the caregiver of the group. Each of them granted her a motherly type of respect. Jasmine didn’t find the need for admiration or even acceptance; she often served as the bearer of bad news.
Vanessa nodded. “Unless they can hide from me like Twenty-Seven—” She let her eyes drop for a moment “—it does not bode well.”
Jasmine watched the woman’s serpentine eyes scan the street in hopes she may be wrong. Despite the horrific things Vanessa must know to be true, she tried to maintain optimism. It was unfortunate—the woman had the makings of a soldier, but underneath her thick skin, her emotions still got the best of her.
“As they did to you once not so long ago,” Vanessa whispered to her.
Jasmine stormed away, her boots slamming down on the ground. The tingling started at her wrists, underneath the metal bands she wore on each arm. Responding to her anger, her powers sought out the closest material to mimic. Thanks to Dav5d, her bracers contained several alloys for her epidermis to interact with.
Pain flashed through her body, her muscles clenching tightly. At once, she increased in weight, her legs struggling to keep her upright. There were denser metals she could mimic, but the denser she got, the slower she became and the more the transformation hurt. Right now, she didn’t want anybody to see her emote, much less show pain.
“Dwayne, take Conthan,” commanded Vanessa. “Stay with Jasmine, cover east of here. We have the west.”
While any of them would go to great lengths to protect one another, he was the only one willing to set aside his morals for the greater good. She admired a soldier willing to get the job done. Of all the people in this group, she probably respected Dwayne the most. It was Conthan who annoyed her. His aimless path in life and the liability he served as to this team, she didn’t appreciate. The kid had more power than any of them, and he chose to remain naive.
She stopped to assess her surroundings. To her right a diner appeared abandoned, but in the alley behind something moved enough to catch her attention. She locked gazes with Dwayne, pointing to her eyes and then to the alley. He nodded in reply. Conthan ignored them, looking almost alien in his power-drunken state.
Her muscles adapted to the weight of her changed body, growing stronger with each step. It’d be another minute before she reached her normal speed, but she’d sacrifice speed for endurance. The alley separating the diner from a barber shop was wide enough to hold dumpsters. It would have been a tight fit for a car, but it was the perfect place to bottleneck a fight and catch prey off guard.
She stopped before entering the alley, listening for any sound. It was faint, but from somewhere, a scraping sound made the small hair on her neck stand on end. She clenched her fists and walked quickly through the alley. It was intersected by another lane. Through a pair of buildings she saw the source of the scraping, a synthetic dragging itself along the pavement.
She didn’t wait. Her feet thumped against the ground, leaving small indentations where the ball of her foot pressed. The synthetic attempted to crawl away from her. One hand had been torn from the body and both of its legs were missing. There was no slowing as she grabbed the machine’s skull. She braced her foot on its back and pulled with all her strength until sparks rained down and the head pulled away from its shoulders.
She inspected the street for any other synthetics, but found the town empty. Dwayne and Conthan caught up, trying to make sense of the battered synthetic.
“Do you think it was attacked by Twenty-Seven?” Dwayne asked.
Jasmine nodded. “Or one of her people.”
“It was probably trying to escape.”
Conthan shook his head. “It wasn’t crawling away from us. They never crawl away from a fight. It was crawling toward something.”
All three looked across the street to the edge of a park. Troy was small, but it was far enough north that nature butted against the town. The park had a line of trees with a playground located inside. Jasmine listened to Conthan’s speculations. She would have to ask when he became so well versed in synthetic fighting tactics. Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause?
She stepped onto the curb and followed a paved pathway into the park. She paused every few steps, listening for more attackers. The path opened up at the playground, an area filled with wood chips and equipment to keep kids entertained. The wooden structure came complete with a swinging bridge and plastic spiral slide. It was obviously an area heavily used by the residents. She couldn’t recall if there were children in the town; the last time she had been there had been shortly after the liberation of the Facility prisoners. Jasmine helped bring supplies and gave the few residents training with firearms and how to maintain some semblance of security.
Dwayne and Conthan split up and approached different sides of the playground. They waited on her to make the next move. It had taken a while, but they learned to follow her lead in a fight. The respect they bestowed on her was appreciated.
Something underneath the bridge flickered. One moment a figure was there and the next it was gone. She held up her hand, signaling to the guys to stop moving forward. If there was somebody hiding, it was most likely a Child; she had never seen a synthetic be able to vanish from sight like that. More likely, a Child with the ability to camouflage.
Her heart skipped a beat. She held her breath as she thought about the last Child of Nostradamus she captured as a Paladin. The young girl had touched her red suit and her skin transformed into a matching red. Jasmine commanded her feet to move forward. With each step, her heart seemed to stop.
“No,” she mumbled to herself.
She told the girl to run from home, to run before the military tracked her down. That action had sealed both of their fates. The girl no longer had a home and Jasmine was marked for death by her former employers. It was the first time she allowed her humanity to override orders from the government. That act of defiance started a series of events liberating her both physically and mentally.
The outline
s of the person shimmered, vanishing and reappearing in a sporadic pattern. Only distant street lamps illuminated the edges of the park. Here, the Child was hidden almost entirely in shadows. Jasmine hovered over the Child, afraid to kneel down and touch them.
“Heaven help me,” she whispered.
The form flickered again and she noted the long hair and petite stature. She could only assume it was a female. She had seen several Children die while using their abilities, and each of their powers had done something similar, flickering until they realized the host had died. When she died, she wondered if her skin would turn to steel. With deep breath, and she looked down at the girl again. Jasmine had no doubt she was dead.
She stifled a gasp and dropped to her knees. She reached out, touching the girl, looking for her arm so she could roll the body onto its back. Jasmine’s heart raced faster, fear gripping her chest. She pulled at the girl’s shoulder, turning her over just as the powers faded away and a female face greeted her.
The nude girl had several holes in her body, penetrated by the bullets belonging to synthetics. Jasmine assumed she had ditched her clothes and attempted to hide. Her camouflage would work against the human eye, but for machines that could read her heat or listen for her heartbeat, her powers fell short. Jasmine moved up the girl’s torso, lingering on the wounds to avoid her face.
“Rebecca,” she mumbled.
In an instant, her skin returned to its normal density. As soon as her epidermis converted, Jasmine became aware of the girl’s skin beneath her palms. She touched her cheek, running her thumb along the soft skin. There was no point in trying to stop the tears that fell from her eyes onto the body below.
She stroked the girl’s face, trying to recall their conversation a year ago. Jasmine had defied orders and told her to flee. She assumed the girl was killed before she got out of the city. Jasmine never assumed the teen would have made it this far. She couldn’t even begin to figure out how Rebecca had discovered a town filled with Children. Perhaps it had been by sheer luck, or perhaps Twenty-Seven and her people had gone looking for refugees.