The Pandora Project

by Heather A. Cowan

  “Are you kidding me?!” Asher screams as John’s body blurs with speed. I could kill John for leaving me here to answer the questions that will inevitably come.

  “Yeah,” I respond lamely, “John has a lot to tell you.”

  “I’m sure you could start…Holy Hell!” He screams when John streaks to the top of a pole holding a camera, going hand over hand, foot over foot to the top. It only takes him about five seconds to scale the pole and disable the camera. He pushes off from the top, dropping gracefully to the ground and does the same thing to the other three camera poles. After disabling the final camera, he executes a perfect back flip from the top.

  “Show-off,” I mumble and have to laugh at the look of awe on Asher’s face.

  From this distance, I can barely make out John punching in the code and the mechanical gate slowly sliding open. John quickly surveys the parking lot looking for a good replacement for the minivan. Most of the cars are old junkers that people don’t want crapping up their property, but they also can’t bear to part with. I am a little ashamed at how many cars he breaks into before he finally finds one with owners irresponsible enough to leave keys in the car.

  Heaving a visible sigh of relief, I get out of the minivan and start to pull our luggage from the back. I have it all unloaded when John drives up in an older Mercedes. I leave a couple thousand dollars to pay for the “rental” of the van in the glove box and turn to look at Asher. “Are you coming?” I ask when he shows no sign of moving.

  “No,” he replies and the look on his face makes me turn away quickly.

  “Your friend isn’t very happy,” I tell John as I help him load the new stolen vehicle. Breaking the law gets easier and easier, I notice. We are on quite the slippery slope. I have to keep balancing petty theft versus end of the world on the scales in my head.

  John moans and goes over to Asher. Whatever he says is enough to convince Asher to get in the car, but he still doesn’t look happy about it. We are all silent as we pull out of the field and make our way to the interstate. I am surprised that Asher is so calm about us making our way out of town. His faith in John is both reassuring and shocking. I guess if Lexi showed up wielding superhuman powers and asked me to trust her, I would…maybe.

  “Asher, if I told you that Paige and I were both genetically altered super humans running for our lives, would you believe me?” John asks, watching Asher’s reaction in the mirror. His blatant description of us tickles my funny bone and a small snort escapes me, earning a glare from John. When Asher doesn’t respond he continues, “More importantly, would you help us, even if it puts you in mortal danger?” That sobers me right up.

  Waiting silently for an answer, I start to get very uncomfortable. It was easy for me to believe everything John told me because I have never been normal. The world has never been safe, but Asher is falling down the rabbit hole and I feel guilty for letting John push him.

  Asher finally unfolds his arms and wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans, making me wonder how nervous he is. “I probably wouldn’t believe you so quickly if I hadn’t just seen you scale poles like a monkey and break into a dozen cars using nothing but your bare hands. Still, John, you better start at the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”

  John looks at me questioningly, I know he is asking my permission to tell my side of the story and I nod, knowing I don’t really have any other choice. I stare out the window, fighting the urge to watch Asher’s every reaction to John’s words. John tears up when he talks about his mom and dad, I put my hand reassuringly on his knee. He returns the favor when tears fall quietly from my eyes as he talks about my parents.

  I can’t help but watch Asher’s reaction to John receiving his powers in the forest. Asher’s eyes grow as wide as saucers and I feel heat rise to my cheeks when he almost snaps his neck looking from my hands to John and back again. He never utters a word, but his responses are written all over his face. John skims over the parts of our criminal activity, for which I am thankful, and fades off when we get to the parking lot of the school.

  Hearing our story rehearsed back to me reminds me how impossible it all sounds. Evil scientist, magic hands, superpowers released in a moment…how Asher keeps himself from jumping out of the car is beyond me. The silence goes from nervous to downright uncomfortable until John finally explodes, “Say something! Call me a liar, ask for proof, anything! Don’t just sit there.”

  Asher actually jumps slightly at the outburst. He looks from his hands, to John, to me and then back to his hands. “What do you want me to say, John?” he spits and I am shocked by his hostility. “That you are crazy? Maybe. You just waltz into my life, drop all this on me, and what? What do you expect me to do?”

  John’s jaw drops slightly, this clearly isn’t the reaction he was expecting. If Asher is this mad about being brought into our problems, I definitely won’t be mentioning that John was ready to throw Asher straight into the fire. How would Lexi feel if I dropped all of this on her? I think she already knows so much more than I give her credit for, but will I ever get the chance to find out?

  It takes a few seconds for John to recover; when he finally does it is with equal anger. “I don’t know what I expect! Maybe a little understanding, compassion, anything from my best friend. I thought I could count on you. I thought you would always be here for me. Why are you so angry? I just shared the biggest secrets of not only my life, but Paige’s as well, and you what? You throw it back to me?” What I thought was anger is actually hurt and my heart goes out to John as the last person he thought he could count on seemingly abandons him. How much more can he take?

  Asher looks out the window and I think I see tears welling in his eyes. “I can’t believe you,” he whispers.

  “Can’t, or won’t?” John asks, exasperated.

  “Can’t, John, can’t!” Asher shouts.

  Sucking a huge gulp of air in surprise I look questioningly at John. This is not going at all how I was expecting. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this is nowhere close. Judging from the look on John’s face, he is as baffled as I am.

  “Asher, what is going on?” John takes on a calmer, more pleading tone.

  “Dr. Cox,” Asher asks and John nods. “Dr. Andrew Cox?” Again John nods. “I can’t believe you,” Asher says, hesitating again, “because I know Dr. Cox.”

  “How?” I ask, finally breaking my silence.

  Asher shoots me a dirty look, like I am to blame for…well, I don’t know.

  Giving his attention back to John he says, “How do I know Dr. Cox, John?”

  John shakes his head knowingly, “Your dad,” he states.

  “I can’t remember a time Dad didn’t work for Dr. Cox in one way or another. Dr. Cox has always dabbled in Dad’s career. If I believe your story, I have to believe that my dad was involved in killing your dad. I refuse to believe it.”

  Chapter 22

  “What I refuse to believe is that we picked the enemy up for a little spin!” I practically choke on the words. “Why not just call Dr. Cox up directly, John! ‘Hey Andy, meet me at 7 Eleven, I’ve got something for you!’” My head starts to spin and I wonder if I am having a panic attack.

  After muttering a couple expletives, John starts looking for an exit. I guess having your world explode around you is more than you can handle while driving…and here I thought he was a super hero. I glance back at Asher and am surprised to find him glaring at me. What did I do? It wasn’t my idea to practically kidnap him.

  It takes a few minutes for John to find a suitable place to stop. I get more uncomfortable with each passing second. When we pull around to the back of a Cracker Barrel I don’t know whether to get out or stay seated and we all just wind up sitting in deafening silence until Asher can’t take anymore.

  “What did you expect me to do?” Asher asks in a calm, steady tone. I admire his control.

  John turns to face his best friend, “We need help. We are going to meet Paige’s parents but I didn�
�t want to go it alone.”

  Unable to hide the hurt at being so quickly discounted, John reaches over to reassure me, “I meant we don’t want to go it alone,” he amends. “I was hoping you would be our back-up, in case something goes wrong. You know what we are up against, if you know Dr. Cox.”

  Still wearing a mask of pure hostility, Asher responds, “Yeah, John, I do know what you are up against. Dr. Cox and my dad. There is no way you can win. Give her up and maybe they will go easy on you. Or just let her go and try to make a life for yourself, you clearly have a couple of aces up your sleeve now.”

  I suck in a quick breath at the thought of being abandoned or turned over. I really don’t like this guy. “How can you say that? Are you serious? I’ve lost everything and now you want me to just give up?”

  “Not give up, just be smart enough to know when you are beat.” There is something about his attitude that sits wrong with me. That he could go so quickly from awe at John’s powers to hostility doesn’t make sense.

  “John,” I start and he looks at me guiltily. “Maybe we should leave him and go,” I mumble under my breath. “What if Dr. Cox has already gotten to him? What if we are being tracked right now?” My hands start to shake and I know things are about to get ugly.

  The look on Asher’s face confirms my worst fears. He is not on our side. Yep, I hate him. “What did you think, John? That I would turn against my own father? Not even for you, not even for a super power. If I were you, I would make a decision pretty quick.”

  John doesn’t even hesitate, he moves so quickly I barely see him move, he hits Asher squarely on the jaw with such force it knocks him out. Scanning the parking lot quickly to make sure no one sees us, he jumps out of the car and whips Asher’s body out of the backseat. He dumps him unceremoniously behind the car and jumps back in before I really understand what is going on.

  “Was that quick enough Asher?” he spits and squeals out of the parking lot.

  “We definitely aren’t safe,” I screech and worry that I sound as hysterical as I feel.

  “That’s an understatement, but you haven’t been safe since you met me, so let’s just move on.”

  Knowing he has lost what he thought was his last connection to his old life, I give him a little leeway. “What are we going to do?” How many times will I ask this question before I start deciding things for myself?

  “We have two choices, we drive like hell to your parents and hope they are there, or we hide out for a little while, which I don’t think they will be expecting. At least we didn’t tell Asher where your parents are.”

  “At least, we didn’t really tell him anything he didn’t already know. He is a pretty good actor though, he acted pretty amazed.”

  “He was I am sure. People can tell you anything but seeing it for yourself is completely different.”

  “I’m sorry about him,” I say while reaching over to rub the back of his neck.

  He smiles at the comfort, “Don’t be, he let us go. He didn’t betray me like you might think.”

  “How do you figure?” I asked, taken back.

  “He could have played us all the way to your parents. He could have had a super power and he gave that up to cut ties with us. He may not have chosen us over his dad, but he didn’t turn us over either. We now know who one more of our enemies are…”

  “Like we need any more of those,” I interrupt.

  “And we know we can’t trust anyone.”

  “I’ve always known that.”

  “So what is it going to be?” he asks. “Run or hide?”

  We’ve been running so much I just want to hide, but I want to be with my parents again so badly I don’t want to stop now. “We run.”

  Chapter 23

  After ditching the car and finding a new one that Asher doesn’t know about, we start on the road again. It is amazing at how proficient we are getting at acquiring cars. I guess practice really does make perfect.

  While the adrenaline from the Asher incident carries us for a while, it doesn’t take long to become extremely evident that we are both too tired to go on much longer. John must read my mind because when my eyelids go so heavy I feel like I can rest them on the dashboard, he pulls off. I don’t pay any attention to where we are going…he hasn’t disappointed me so far. Instead of looking out the window, I stare at him as he concentrates on getting us wherever we are going.

  Between the peace I feel looking at him and the lull of the car, I find myself jerking awake when the smooth motion comes to a halt. John laughs soundlessly as I try to get my bearings. “Where are we?” I ask groggily.

  He slides his fingers down my cheek and says, “Let your eyes adjust, we’re camping!”

  A groan escapes me at the thought of another night in the car. “No toilet again?” I whine as I search my surroundings. At first all I can see is a forest of thick pine trees and wonder how he got me in the middle of the woods without me noticing. As my grow used to the darkness, a rickety log cabin comes into view. “What is this place?” I ask.

  John looks entirely too pleased with himself, but if there is a bathroom, I will let him have it. “A state park that offers cabins. Normally the gates are closed at night, but thanks to you, I am plenty strong enough to open the gate, let us in and close it again without anyone being the wiser. I’ve driven around and we seem to be the only ones in the park. I imagine this place is scarcely used in the best of times, but a weeknight in the fall…” he trails off to let me finish the thought on my own.

  I still can’t believe he did all that without me waking up. Add stealth to his ever growing list of super powers. By the time I get out of the car and close the door noisily into the darkness, my eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness and the stars. What started as tiny pinpricks of light now seem like spotlights, lighting my way to the cabin. The sounds and smells of the woods immediately put me at ease and I am more than pleased with his choice for a hideout.

  The age of the cabin is evident in a multitude of cracks that crisscross the logs in as many intricate patterns as the spider webs covering the porch. It smells of pine and sap, but also of mold and mildew. John easily opens the door with brute strength. With every deadbolt he shatters my conscience grows heavier, but with an impending apocalypse always looming over your head, a couple hundred dollars of damage is easily rationalized away. We don’t turn on any lights, just in case there is anyone around that would wonder about a light in the woods.

  The inside of the cabin is minimalist at best. There is one double bed with a mattress that sags so badly in the middle I know we won’t be able to sleep on it without rolling toward each other. The mattress is wrapped in a mattress cover and an old wool blanket is folded on the foot of the bed. There is a door off to one side, which I desperately hope leads at least to a toilet and sink and a three legged wood table placed in a corner with two rickety wood chairs enclosing it.

  I drop the bag John has allowed me to carry and head immediately to the door, a smile lighting my face to see a half bath. I clap my hands, amazed at the joy an old smelly toilet can bring me. Fetching my toothbrush, toilet paper and a bar of soap, I take first turn in the bathroom.

  We eat from the dry rations my father packed, the leftover mint flavor from my toothpaste making it even more unpalatable than usual. I guess I should have waited to brush. I collapse on the bed as John heads to the bathroom and am rewarded with a cloud of dust surrounding me. Underused is an understatement.

  I curl up on my side with my hands under my head as a makeshift pillow. I scoot as far to one side as possible given the state of the mattress and wait for John to emerge. He doesn’t hesitate as I might have when he comes out of the bathroom. He makes straight for the bed and lies on the opposite side, facing me, curling up in an almost identical pose.

  “Another day closer to your parents,” he says in hushed tones. I wonder if he feels the need to whisper or if it is just the isolation and silence of the cabin he is hesitant to disturb.


  “Why do I feel farther away?” I whisper in return.

  “Funny how that works.” Only he doesn’t laugh or even smile. Nothing about this entire day has been funny.

  “Was it only this morning we squatted in that empty house?” I ask as I stifle a yawn.

  Looking at his watch he replies, “Given that it is two A.M., it was technically yesterday.”

  “That makes me feel better.”

  I let the conversation die, knowing he must be exhausted. I don’t know how long I was asleep in the car, but it has taken the edge off my sleepiness just enough to make sure sleep eludes me. I close my eyes and try for several minutes, but when John’s even breathing indicates he is asleep, I take up one of my new favorite hobbies, studying his face. Every moment I am with him he gets better looking. His physical transformation has made him appear older, but with his features softened with sleep, he easily passes as a teenager without a care in the world.

  What right does a monster like me have to his affection? As the question, intrudes on my otherwise happy thoughts, I wonder if he sees me that way at all. Should I warn him? Doesn’t he have a right to know what I have done to my own grandmother?

  I know it is a cowards way out, with him being asleep and all, but I whisper in the softest voice I can manage, “I am a monster.”

  The corners of his mouth turn down and his forehead wrinkles before he frightens me by opening his eyes and demanding, “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought you were asleep,” I lamely admit.

  “Well, I’m not. Why would you say that?” His hostility surprises me more than it frightens me.

  “Can’t you figure it out? You have enhanced mental acuity. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that not only am I not normal, I have the ability to create things that will make little children run away screaming for their mothers.” As tears well in my eyes, I blame their presence on stress and fatigue.