by E. J. Mara
“That woman back there, Jayne Mire? Well, she’s basically the devil,” Esther says. “She killed my parents. I’ll fill you in on the rest of her resume when we’re not running for our lives.”
“She killed your parents?” Karen and I say in unison.
I glance at Esther. Her eyes are steely and her mouth is set in a grimace.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know your parents were-” Before I can finish my sentence, Esther’s shouting, “Hold on!” and tightening her grip on my hand.
The hallway is transformed into a blur of colors and once again, I’m paralyzed. But it doesn’t last long. In an instant, reality resumes its position with a nurse’s station just ahead on our right and the elevators to our left. I recognize our location and take a closer look at the nurse’s station, searching for my mom. I spot her behind the desk, peering into one of the computers.
“Stop those kids!” A voice shouts from behind us. The noise jarring her, Mom looks up and catches my eye. She freezes, horror taking hold of her features. “Nathaniel? What’s going on?”
My stomach turns as I shout, “We’re fine, don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
Well, that was a huge lie. We’re being chased by some kind of mutant and a woman who Esther just described as the devil. I’m pretty sure that’s the exact opposite of everything being fine. Also, my foot is getting worse.
Attempting to ignore the pain and the sound of my mom’s voice as she calls after me, I try to focus on running faster. But I can’t. Guilt swims in my stomach, making me feel like I’ve just eaten bad yogurt. Mom must be scared out of her mind and here I am, just leaving her …
“Don’t feel bad, Nathaniel,” Esther says. “If your mom understood what was going on, she’d want you to keep running. Hold on again.”
Esther transports us further down the hall and once I’ve regained my bearings, I steal a quick peek at Karen. She’s frowning down at her arm.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Karen says, “it’s just this bug, a bagrada. I thought it was dead, but it’s not and it’s like, stuck to my sleeve.”
Esther comes to an abrupt halt, releases my hand, and grabs Karen’s arm.
“Ow!” Karen’s cries, her eyes flashing anger. “What are you doing?!”
Esther flicks the small red and black bug from the sleeve of Karen’s hospital gown. The insect lands on the floor and Esther points to it. “If that had bitten me, we’d all be dead. The bagradae cannot ever touch anyone with abilities. Do you understand me?”
“No,” I immediately reply, confused.
Karen glances at me before meeting Esther’s eyes and nodding gravely. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Uh.” I shift my weight to my stronger foot. “When you say ‘abilities,’ do you mean …”
Behind us, a high pitched scream is followed by a crashing sound.
“And that’s our cue to stop chatting and leave,” Esther says. With that, she grasps our hands and paralyzes us several times in a row, one right after the other.
Before I know it, we’re on the hospital’s top floor, where the executive offices are located.
The carpeted floor beneath our feet begins to shake and the room is filled with the metallic rattle of a loud drill.
“What’s that?” Karen asks, a note of hysteria in her voice.
“That’d be ol Titanium Butt trying to make a dramatic entrance,” Esther mutters. She reaffirms her grip on my hand and says, “Once again, hold on.”
But this time we aren’t transported anywhere. Instead, a crash erupts directly below us and a silver hand bursts through the floor. The hand grabs Esther’s right ankle and a string of curses leave Esther’s lips.
“What’s going on out here?” Some guy in a suit emerges from one of the offices and stops in his tracks. His gaze goes from the three of us to the metallic grip that Esther’s struggling to free herself from. His eyes widening, he screams and backs away.
I’m no better, in the midst of the chaos, I freeze.
…this is insane. From the silver hand that just tore through the floor beneath us to the fact that Esther’s been transporting us through thin air- nothing that’s happening makes sense! How is any of this even happening?
The rhythmic puncturing noise intensifies, and just behind Esther, a large silver drill crashes up through the floor, sending bits of carpet, wood, and flooring everywhere. This snaps me out of my frozen state.
“Run! Get out of here,” Esther orders, waving us away. “Hurry!”
“No way are we leaving you with that ...thing.” I release Karen’s hand and crouch beside Esther’s trapped ankle.
“No, Nathaniel,” she cries, her eyes widening in panic, “just get Karen out of here, don’t worry about me.”
“We’re not going anywhere without you,” Karen says as I attempt to pry the thick metallic fingers from Esther’s ankle.
This guy, whatever he is, he’s strong. It’s taking forever to move just a few of his fingers. Groaning, I pry harder and yank three of his fingers from her ankle. The drill that’s burst through the floor morphs into a second large, silver hand. I gulp at the sight of it, realizing that it’s not actually a drill, it’s the giant. He’s somehow changing parts of his body into …well, into drills.
The second metallic hand grips the floor as more crashing noises sound below us. I bend his pinkie all the way back just as his silver head emerges from the floor.
By now, everyone on the hallway has come out of their offices to see what’s happening. Screams surround us as the gleaming metallic giant releases Esther’s ankle and crashes up from the floor, leaving a gaping hole behind him.
Esther falls and I yank her back to her feet. The seven foot tall giant is now completely silver, from the irises of his eyes to the gleaming gray that tints every strand of his long hair. He even smells like metal. This is so impossible …I mean, I’m seeing it with my own eyes, and I still don’t believe it’s happening. I back away from the giant and his gaze goes from me to Karen. He starts for her and Esther vanishes before reappearing on his back. She wraps her arms around his neck and tries to choke him.
He flicks Esther away like she’s nothing more than a gnat and she crashes to the floor with a groan. Now that she’s out of his way, the giant’s attention returns to Karen, who’s tripping over her feet as she backs away from him. Everything’s happening so fast ... I know I should do something, but what?
The giant grabs Karen’s right arm and my heart sinks into my stomach. Without thinking, I run towards him and leap onto his back. I wrap my right arm around his neck and once his chin meets the crook of my arm, I squeeze.
This close to him, I can really smell the metal.
He tries to flick me away, like he did to Esther, but I maintain my position. Tightening my chokehold until I’m trembling, the giant twitches under my clutch, a gurgling sound emerging from his throat. But he’s still got a firm hold on Karen’s arm.
…this kid’s going to kill me…
“Let her go and I’ll let you go,” I say, a bead of sweat rolling down my forehead and getting in my eye.
The silver guy releases Karen and she stumbles away. A second wind washing over me, I tighten my chokehold. I want to finish him off, no, I need to finish him off. It’s the right thing to do. Guys like him are all the same. They hurt people just because they can. They deserve to die.
The giant’s entire body begins to tremble, his twitching worsening. His scattered thoughts build and then crescendo like some kind of sick melody in my head. Through every turn of their dying song, I’m sorry, is a repeated whisper, a pattern in his thoughts.
Guilt overtaking me, I release Roy and the wheezing man falls to his knees while firetrucks and police sirens sound in the distance. Just beyond his collapsing form, Karen stares at me, her eyes wide.
A flashback to the way I used to watch Dad, utterly petrified and unable to look away, pushes its way into my thoughts and a shock of chills consume my ar
ms. Shaking off the memory, I back away from Roy.
His skin is changing, the metallic glint fading, as a more human tone emerges. He’s still weakened, slouching as he tries to catch his breath.
I offer Karen my hand and nod to Roy. “You might want to get away from him. Just in case.”
Hurrying to me, she grabs my hand. “Geez Nathaniel,” she says, speaking so softly that I can barely hear her, “how strong are you, exactly?”
I glance at her, and her face flushed, she averts her eyes like she’s embarrassed. … we’re running for our lives and I’m gawking at Nathaniel’s biceps. What’s wrong with me? …
My guilt lessens and a smile creeps into my expression. If we weren’t completely surrounded by violence and destruction, I swear I’d kiss her right now.
“Hi, Roy.” At the sound of Esther’s voice, we turn to her and she holds a piece of broken flooring containing the red and black bug she and Karen call a bagrada. Still wheezing, the giant crouches as he holds his chest. Esther pushes the bug into one of his ears. “Bye, Roy.” With that, Esther disappears and reappears at Karen’s side.
The man’s eyes widen and his ear turns bright red. He screams as his skin morphs from pale to luminescent silver. I squint at the extreme brightness and tighten my grip on Karen’s hand. The giant’s tortured thoughts flood mine in a torrent of whispers and I can’t help but feel sorry for him.
“What’s the bug doing to him?” I ask, horrified.
“Turning his own DNA against him; he’s poisoning himself,” Esther says. She positions herself between Karen and me, forcing our hands apart as she grabs hold of them. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What about my dad?” Karen yanks her hand out of Esther’s. “We can’t leave him here.”
In the distance, the noisy rhythm of a helicopter begins to overshadow the firetrucks and police sirens. I turn my attention to the end of the hallway where a large picture window reveals the source of the sound; a helicopter that seems to be headed straight for us.
I point to it. “Um, you guys there’s a…” A blurred figure darts into my line of vision and my voice trails off. The anomaly appears and disappears so quickly that I look around in confusion, doubting what I think I’ve seen. Just then, a voice whispers, “The roof, Esther, get them to the roof.”
“What was …” Karen’s eyes widen. “Wait, was that Unseen?!”
Esther grabs her hand. “Yeah. And don’t let go of my hand again, we’re leaving.”
My heart hammering in my chest and my palms growing sweaty, I turn to the helicopter that’s still headed straight for us. The few remaining office workers who’ve been too shell-shocked to run away screaming are now swarming to the stairwell and elevators.
‘What kind of nightmare have I gotten myself into?’ I wonder as the helicopter disappears and a swarm of colors fill my vision.
I run my tongue across the front of my teeth, still tasting salty remnants of blood from Claire’s hand.
It’s been several hours, and now that I’ve had time to process her explanation of what’s happening to me, I understand what she’s doing. But why is the question. Why did that man with silver skin break into my school, injure my teacher, the students in my class, and then kidnap me? I’m sure there are thousands, if not millions of other children with autism who he could have taken. So, why me?
I turn my attention to the door as it’s opened by a stranger. She’s tall and thin with short dark hair; she wears a wrinkled white lab coat over a navy blue suit, and there’s something familiar about her eyes. I study her, my curiosity piqued. Where have I seen this woman before?
She opens her mouth, begins to speak, and as always, my gaze darts to her lips. But this time, something shocking happens.
Chills consuming my arms, I stare at the stranger’s mouth in amazement. Though I can’t hear her words, I somehow understand everything she’s saying. Her lip movement’s form words!
“…my name is Dr. Jayne Mire. I’ve been too busy to speak with you until now. And I’m sorry that you found my assistant, Claire, so unpleasant. Clearly, our attempt at an Autism Reversal serum hasn’t left you as docile as we’d anticipated.”
The woman speaks without a trace of a smile and her dark eyes are cold as they drift to the IV in my arm. “You must have many questions. And one fact that may answer at least some of your questions is that your father is the reason you’re here.”
My stomach turns. My father is the reason I’m here? Daddy, like most hearing people, is sad and eternally distracted. Still, in spite of his being almost hearing, he isn’t cruel enough to have me sent to a place like this …is he?
“So if you want to lash out at someone, Claire is not the optimal target.” Dr. Mire leans towards me as she says, “Your father is.”
I shiver. This lady, with her penetrating eyes and unsmiling face, is even scarier than the silver-skinned giant who came to my classroom.
“Your father had a choice. He had to choose between protecting his work and protecting you. He chose his work.” Dr. Mire pauses to let her words deliver their blows. I shift on this table that’s supposed to be a bed, my stomach filling with the most painful hollowness. It’s the same empty feeling that overtook me when I saw Mom on the floor. Like the whole world stopped, inside and outside of me …everything just stopped.
“You’re here because your father didn’t love you enough to save you,” Dr. Mire says, her narrowed eyes going to my hair. “But I’m going to save you, Tessa. The serum Claire and I have made is more than a mere attempt at a replica of your father’s Autism Reversal formula, I’ve added to it. If successful, it will not only free you from the effects of autism, but you’ll be stronger, smarter, and transformed into our planet’s most powerful solider.”
My emotions still smarting from the sting of abandonment, I blink back at Dr. Mire, processing her words. I’ll be smarter? My heart skips a beat. She’s saying I’ll be like everyone else, maybe even better than everyone else.
I open my mouth and attempt a word that now makes more sense than it did the last time I brought my index finger to my mouth and signed it. “Hearing?” I ask.
“Yes, eventually.” Dr. Mire nods. “This serum contains a combination of DNA-altering drugs called Triphylamonal and Lexilohr, and should they work as theorized, there is the possibility of your regaining a percentage of your hearing. Based on your vocalization, it seems you’re already experiencing the serum’s positive effects …”
She hesitates while my head spins with dizzying euphoria. I’ll be hearing?
“Standing here and looking at you is almost surreal …” Dr. Mire says, but I’m barely paying any attention to her at this point.
Hope shuttles through me, finding its way to my eyes in the form of tears. I blink them away, not wanting to cry in front of Dr. Mire. But it’s impossible to completely restrain my feelings and a tear escapes, crawling down one of my cheeks. If I’m hearing no one will be able to laugh at me or tell me what to do. Everything will be different. Dad will find me worthy of his love and even Karen will respect me.
My hope refusing to be squelched, I grin uncontrollably as I return my attention to Dr. Mire. My grin wavers at the sight of the darkness that’s fallen over her features.
“You look just like her,” Dr. Mire says, her thin lips forming a straight line as she backs away from the table.
Curious, I follow her with my eyes. Who’s she talking about?
Dr. Mire looks up and holds out her hand. “Claire, I’ll do it, give it to me.”
I follow her gaze to Claire, who I hadn’t even realized had returned. She now wears a skin-colored bandage on her hand.
“Yes, ma’am.” Claire agrees, obviously nervous as she passes a syringe to Dr. Mire.
Now that I’m truly studying Claire Hawke’s face and mannerisms, it’s clear that she’s as out-of-place as I felt when I woke up on this table; it’s as though Claire doesn’t want to be here. Actually, she doesn’t look much older than
my sister. Is she a teenager? And how did I not notice this before?
My observations come to a screeching halt as I catch sight of the fat needle within the syringe Claire’s placed in Dr. Mire’s palm. Shifting in my bounds, I say, “No!”
Dr. Mire glances at me. “I’m giving you hearing, intelligence, and a life. In return, you’ll do as I say. To ensure your obedience, I’m going to track your movements and location, which is what this injection will allow me to do. This will hurt, so you’ll need to be strong until it’s over.”
I glance at Claire. She bites down on her lip and sets her bandaged hand over mine, a kind gesture that does little to alleviate my agitation.
I strain to get out of the straps that hold my wrists and ankles at bay. I don’t want that needle in me! Dr. Mire uses an alcohol prep pad to wipe a small section of my hip and tears return to my eyes. This time it isn’t hope that’s incited their arrival.
Before I can blink, the needle is under my skin and making its way into my bone, which elicits first, a gasp and then a scream. It isn’t only that this hurts, it’s that, to one degree or another, I’ve endured this very thing every day of my life.
Karen tells me what to do, my father tells me what to do, my teachers tell me what to do, everyone tells me what to do. Other people get choices, they say, “No” to the needle and it goes away, but not me. I want choices; I want to decide what happens to me.
Dr. Mire removes the needle and, without another word, leaves the room. Claire, however, stays behind, her warm hand over mine. I glance at her and though my vision is blurry with tears, I manage to read her lips as she says, “I’ll get you out of here. I promise.”
I shake my head and scream, “No!” Claire backs away from me, her eyes widening. I clench my fists, so angry that I’m shaking.
When I escape, it won’t be under Claire’s direction; it will be my own doing. For once, I’ll be the one to make the decisions.