I licked my lips again, almost tasting her anxiety. “I’ve always hated these tests.”
“I know, but if it helps Annie with her sleeping, then it’s necessary.”
As if to challenge him, I turned sharply. “What if the results come back and she’s blacklisted? What would you do?”
Roman didn’t shift in his seat, “What has to be done.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You’re sounding a lot like your mother,” he growled. “I’ve met a blacklisted child before and he was nothing like Annie. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” The fear had been riding on his mind, too. The veins in his neck jumped even at the mention of Annie being blacklisted. I took a steady breath in as the technician stepped into the room.
“Hello there, Miss Annie. How are we doing today?” He stepped around in his dark, golden lens goggles and leather trench coat. The assistant stood back and passed over some equipment as the technician took a seat near Annie’s chair. The click of the utensils filled the room.
“I’m okay,” Annie answered tentatively.
“Are you having bad dreams?”
Annie drew her lips in, suddenly guilty, “Yes, sir.”
“When was the last time you had a bad dream?”
“Last night.”
The technician flashed a calming smile. “Everything will be all right. I’m just going to give you a quick injection and then we can see what we’re dealing with.” Carefully, the technician took a thumb-sized needle and injected the drug directly into her neck. After a few moments, he turned the machine on as a vibrating hum bounced around the room from the working engines. Annie immediately tensed against her restraints as she took in a sharp gasp. Her back arched and her fingers curled into fists as every muscle in her body jumped into alert.
Unfazed, the technician lowered the robotic crane from above Annie’s head so the slim metal bar was within inches from her. The strobe light flashed as the wired crown fired impulses into her brain.
I immediately held my breath. Roman reached over and squeezed my hand, but it did little to ease my mind.
“You don’t have to be scared for her. These tests are safe.”
“Triggering traumatic memories in children doesn’t exactly sound safe to me.”
“It has to be done.”
“I just think there should be another way, a better way.”
Roman dropped his hand back to his side. I guess he didn’t want to have this argument with me again. As the machine worked and Annie’s body twitched and convulsed in her chair to the impulses, I prayed she would remain dormant like me. Just for a little while longer at least. Half an hour into the session, the machine let out a series of warning clicks. Brain activity spiked on the monitor as the technician turned on the projection screen.
“Bingo.” He spun in his chair as I scooted closer to the edge of my seat.
On the small screen, a white fuzzy picture started to appear. I pressed my face to the glass, trying to watch over the technician’s shoulder. From the glimpses I caught, the picture was of a woman’s arms hanging out white sheets on a clothes line. Her attention turned at the nagging of a little boy pulling on her skirt, which she then dropped down and cupped his cheek tenderly. It was a sweet memory and I softly gasped, seeing the child Annie had before this lifetime and how happy they were. The technician carefully altered some dials as the strobe sped up, causing Annie’s body to convulse more violently. Suddenly, she started screaming.
Back on the screen, there was a lone knife-wielding figure approaching her from the doorway. Annie edged away from him with her hands held up when she suddenly tripped and hit the ground. The figured reached her quickly and slashed the knife five to six times down into her abdomen and chest. The edges of the screen darkened as Annie rolled over onto her stomach in an attempt to crawl away, but quickly spotted her young son watching from the hallway. She stretched her hand out to him, wet blood seen dripping from her fingers as a pair of black boots stepped over the top of her. The boy turned to run but was quickly caught by the much larger man. The screen shook as she screamed and Annie’s shrieks hit the roof in raw desperation. The picture suddenly blurred as the darkness spiralled inwards. The scene went black. Annie’s body relaxed against the chair for a moment just as the memory suddenly reloaded back to start. The scene continued to play on a loop. Annie screamed without breath.
The technician took note of the details as the other monitor scanned the central database, trying to find a match. He glanced back at the mirror as if he could see how my expression hardened in my horror. We were both silent. Roman didn’t look at me as I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
The young assistant left the operating room quickly. She opened the door into the viewers’ room but stumbled back as I ran at her.
“You have to erase it!” I demanded breathlessly. “Destroy it! Block it! I don’t care. Just do something to help her!”
She looked between Roman and me, and carefully shook her head. “I’m sorry but we’re unable to erase the memory completely. We can, however, put up a mental barricade so Annie’s subconscious can’t trigger the event in her sleep. We also suggest putting Annie onto the D400 straight away; with powerful memories like this, her other memories could be quickly triggered as well.”
Roman nodded his consent as the nurse returned to the other room. She gave the nod to the technician who then injected Annie again in the neck. As the medicine worked into her system, the image on the screen clouded. Once blurred, Annie’s body dropped into submission and her nights of screaming should be over.
CHAPTER THREE:
Lisa arrived at the hospital a few hours after Annie’s session ended. I remained by Annie’s bedside with an unbearable weight inside of me. A small part of me felt disconnected. Annie wasn’t like me. It was selfish, I know, but I had seriously wished she wasn’t like the others and that I didn’t have to lose her too. She hadn’t woken yet, but even as she slept, I could see my little sister disappearing beneath the madness. They put her into a deep sleep for the night, giving the brain a chance to reconnect the dots and put everything back into order. Roman briefly explained to Lisa about what we found out during the session.
“So, do they know who she is yet?” Lisa asked as she reached for the charts at the end of Annie’s bed.
Roman nodded as he took his seat again. “Yes, her previous name was Maria Christine Schmitt. According to their records, she was born in 3132 somewhere in Paris. She and her son were murdered by her estranged husband after what appeared to be a disagreement over shared real estate. Aside from that, there’s not much else interesting to tell. Thanks to the violent death, Annie will have to have regular visits to the therapist which will cost us more money.”
“Great! That’s exactly what we needed, a ticking time bomb of a traumatised house wife.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “She’s definitely not blacklisted, right?”
Roman shook his head. “There’s six more lives linking to her imprint, but Maria appeared to be her latest one.”
“Well, if it stops her from going all pyscho on us then I guess she can have counselling.” Lisa growled as she put the chart down. “I’m sure there’s a grant the Government will give us to help pay-”
“Is that all you care about?” I pushed off the bed and walked over. “This is Annie we’re talking about. Your first question shouldn’t be if she’s blacklisted; it should be if she’s okay! Don’t you care about her at all?”
“Do you not understand what blacklisted means?”
“Of course I do. I’m not an idiot.”
“Then you understand why I wouldn’t want one in my house. Now, if only they could be that successful with you.” She reshuffled her backpack onto her shoulder before casting a long, hard look at me. “We still have no idea who you really are.”
“You’ve raised me from birth. You know who I am.”
“You may have my DNA but you are not mine.” She turned to face the hallway. “I’
ll head out and try and get some money that is owed to us. Now that Annie is linked, we can cash our parental cheques.”
“But aren’t we entitled to two maturities now? Annie is at the age of classification and Nadia is an adult,” Roman disputed as he stood.
“No, Annie only counts as one. Nadia still doesn’t have a match, as far as they are concerned she’s either an infant or doesn’t exist!” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why that’s our fault she was born mutated!”
Unable to stand listening to them, I snatched my jacket from the bed and stormed past. Lisa glanced at me indifferently. “Wait, where the hell are you going?”
I didn’t bother to answer her. She only asked out of liability reasons. My actual wellbeing was as important to her as a neighbour’s sick pet. I had grown accustomed to their alienated attitude toward me, and how they saw me not their child but a stranger living in their off spring’s body. But as I walked away, my body trembled. I had to stop letting my emotions jump the moment I felt disposable.
To ease my frustration, I walked the three-block distance across town toward the only bar I knew would be open. At this time of day, there was only one type of person who would be at a bar, and that was a deeply troubled person. I let myself into the dimly lit room, walking head on into a strong waft of smoke and beer before making my way straight up to the counter.
“Miss?” The bartender welcomed as I sat down. I tapped the table with my index as I swivelled my shotgun to my front. It was my don’t-try-anything-funny badge I pinned to my shirt.
The barman filled a shot glass in exchange for some credits I tapped into his banking machine. My picture appeared on the monitor as confirmed identification before the bartender passed over my drink.
“I haven’t seen you around here.” He leaned forward onto the palms of his hands. “Tough day?” I barely glanced up. The barman was an older guy, with a moustache curled upwards against his cheeks. I sniffed the drink before shooting it down. I tapped the bar again and swiped my card. The barmen poured me another shot. He made a disappointed tsk sound with his mouth before returning to wiping down the counter top.
It wasn’t his fault, and I really shouldn’t be so rude. Maybe I was just mad at myself. I glanced back up at the barman, but felt my words tie up at the back of my throat. Since when was it so difficult to strike up a conversation? Maybe I wasn’t that different from them after all.
Humanity didn’t have any love left for anyone. Not even themselves. Not since reincarnation started. That was eleven life cycles ago. Eleven life cycles of coming back to life, inside a new body with a new name. I downed my shot a second time and tapped the counter. The barman just left me the bottle.
At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep. My phone was blasting as a sharp jab shot through my temple. I leaned backward suddenly woozy as the walls spun. The blur of the bartender leaned away from shaking my shoulder.
“Oi, your phone keeps going off.”
Clumsily, I slipped out of my seat and picked up my backpack. My numbed hands made it difficult to clasp around the band as I tried to hoist it into my lap. Eventually, I got into the front pocket, pulled out my phone and placed it close-ish to my ear.
“Hel-lo?”
“Nadia! It’s me.” I shifted around in my chair at the doctor’s familiar voice.
“Doctor Philli-ps?”
“Where were you today? We had an appointment.” After a long pause, he added, “Have you been drinking?”
I rubbed my eyes before checking my watch. It was five-forty in the afternoon. I couldn’t help the small smile curling my lips. “Oops. Yo-ou caught me.”
“You can’t keep avoiding me,” he sighed. Over the top of him, there was a sharp beep of another incoming call. The doctor kept talking, his voice rising louder to speak over the tone, “You must come in. I have some very important news and—”
“I can’t hear you! I ha-ve to go now, bye bye.” I quickly ended the call before accepting the other. “Y-es? Hello?”
“Am I talking to Nadia Richards?”
“Yes.”
“We have you here as our best contact regarding Annie Richards.” I quickly rose from my seat.
“Is someth-ing wrong?”
“Not at all. We’re just calling to let you know she’s awake now and—”
“Okay. I’ll be there so-on” I shoved my phone into my bag and swung the shotgun around my back. I rushed outside into the emptying streets and made a mad dash down the road toward the technician’s. Oh, God, why did I have to drink so much? I grabbed my forehead and scrunched my eyes, mentally trying to shove the pending migraine back into the darkness. I arrived at the technician’s office about ten minutes later and they took me straight up to Annie’s room.
“H-Hey, An-nie.” I cheered and squatted down in front of her. “It’s okay. I’m he-here now to take you ho-me. ‘Kay?” Annie, well, the blur of Annie glanced up and studied my face for a moment. She then reached out and tucked a loose strand behind my ear.
In a voice that sounded far too tight to be hers, she scolded me, “Are you drunk? You know alcohol kills brain cells.”
I laughed. “Whaaat? Wh-o taught you to s-say that? Huh? You’re so funny-”
“Everyone knows. It’s common sense.” She pushed off the bed and grabbed her belongings off the floor. “If you’ve already completed the proper paperwork, then we really should get going. I don’t want to get caught out during curfew.”
I jerked my head back at her unusual behaviour. Since when did she speak in such full sentences? “Oh-okay. Le-t’s go.”
I don’t remember the walk back home, or even seeing Roman or Lisa that night. I must’ve gotten home at some point as I found myself suddenly in my bed. I didn’t change my clothes or take off my shoes. When sleep hit me, it hit me hard. I never sleep quite as peaceful as a drunken sleep. If Annie screamed that night, I wouldn’t have heard it.
CHAPTER FOUR:
BRREEEOOOOWW! BEEP! BEEP! BRREEEOOOOWW!
What the hell is that?
A loud whooping siren blasting through my bedroom window woke me. I collapsed back onto my pillow and grabbed my head as it pounded. Oh, my God, my head!
Outside, the siren pulsated from underneath the earth, causing the walls and windows to shake. Reluctantly, I kicked back my sheets and sat up so my head was between my knees. Oh, God! I feel so sick!
I hoisted myself up; the slamming from the siren only intensified the ache inside my own skull. I stumbled downstairs into the kitchen before fishing into the cupboards for some painkillers. I popped them into my mouth and drank from the tap.
The medication only took a few moments to kick in before the pressure eased off. The sweep alarm though was a constant scream that bellowed throughout the entire city. After a quick search around the house, I discovered no one was home. They must’ve deliberately gone out to avoid the sweep, which is highly illegal.
I went to head back upstairs when I noticed Annie’s pocketknife sitting on the table. The black handle sat out like a misplaced arm, sending alarm bells off. Annie never left without it. I sent a brief text to Roman’s mobile to see if he had Annie with him, but he replied with a short no. I did the same with Lisa and she replied saying Annie was told to stay at home with me.
I called Annie’s emergency phone but the tone rang out. Anxiously, I typed her number into my mobile tracker to have the GPS pinpoint her on the other side of town. “What the hell are you doing, Annie?”
I stomped into my shoes and packed a hand-held pistol, my gas mask and shotgun. As soon as I stepped out of the house a loud, sonic boomed ripped through the air above my head, following the wake of two fighter jets cutting through the sky. Immediately, I cowered and dropped to the ground, fearing it was an air strike. They disappeared only seconds later and promptly, I pushed off the ground into a run. The Sweepers had already barricaded both exits to the neighbourhood. The man-sized lumbering machines marched forward like a scattered wall of steel bodies, her
ding everyone into a corner. The painted police colours had already began to chip, revealing their copper armour beneath as red lasers shot out of their visors like a sweeping radar. As they marched toward us, some of the neighbouring men and women took to the streets in protest. They rallied against the Sweepers with weapons held above their heads and flaming Molotovs. Built for crowd control, it only took the Sweepers minutes to apprehend, scan and arrest the rebelling crowd.
“All residents must comply. Come out of your homes immediately to be scanned and assessed. Failure to do so will result in immediate arrest. All residents must comply.”
“Go to hell!” One of the men tossed his home made Molotov into the robot’s path.
The Sweeper swiftly redirected itself and charged forward, grabbing the man by the throat and electrocuting him. The man collapsed into a violent seizure.
“All residents must comply.”
Using the distraction, I ran across the road and slipped into the alleyway of the neighbouring building. “Crap, they’re already this close.”
Sweepers, much like the scanner at Sector 5 would read my retinas as blanks, sentencing me immediately for arrest. For that reason, I could not be caught. As fast as I could, I made my way across the streets, interweaving between the houses and shielding myself behind corners as the Sweepers marched ahead.
I eventually reached the end of the block where Mr Rodgers old cardboard house was stationed. I ducked into the alleyway for cover when my boots slip over something wet on the ground. I turned the aim of my shotgun to the floor only to find Mr Rodgers. He had emptied bottles surrounding him and snapped syringes among his blankets and trash. I stepped over his body carefully avoiding the puddle of blood circling his head. I reached down and patted down his pockets to find they were only stuffed with rubbish and tiny rat bones. I nudged him over so he was face up to notice the bullet hole carved through his frontal lobe. Well, that’s one way to stop the voices... I hitched my backpack higher onto my shoulder and kept going. Annie was close, only a few more blocks down as I quickly pressed myself into the nook of shadows against a building’s wall. As I peered out to check the street for more Sweepers, an explosion shook the complex behind me before a massive eruption of dust covered the entire block.
Soulless (The Immortal Gene Trilogy Book 1) Page 3