On My Mind (2) (Mile High Club)

by Jade Powers

  Chapter 4

  HANNAH WAS STRIP-SEARCHED. Her face grew hot and she knew she was scarlet when the woman with a ram-rod straight back and short hair asked Hannah to remove her top. Standing in her underwear, Hannah felt every bit of the fat under her ribs. Drake hadn’t seemed to mind. Hannah couldn’t stop thinking about him. What would he do in this situation?

  Provided with a standard orange jumpsuit, Hannah realized that she was being treated as a prisoner.

  “I want to speak to my lawyer.” As the daughter of two lawyers, Hannah knew her rights. She was being held against her will for nothing.

  The female guard said, “Good luck with that.”

  Hannah swallowed. She knew now why people resorted to violence. The helpless feeling crawling through her gut made her itch to hurt somebody. She hated feeling helpless.

  Placed in a tiny cell with a toilet and a single bed, Hannah realized that she was a political prisoner. This place was too big to be a secret. The other compound had been small by comparison. This was a military base of some sort, maybe top secret, maybe not. Either way, it was no accident that she was here. She had been efficiently disappeared, something she never in a million years would ever dream could happen in the U.S.

  Her legs still hurt from being scraped. She sat heavily down on the bed and wondered where her college room mate would be right now. Hannah hadn’t left a note or anything. Would she be just another missing person? She didn’t like the coarse blankets, liked even less that someone had slept here before her. It grossed her out a bit, like the idea that someone filthy or lice-ridden might have slept in that bed. At least it didn’t smell bad.

  After some stretch of time, two guards in army uniforms stopped outside her cell. The one with the keys unlocked the door. They didn’t make eye contact. It was as if Hannah didn’t even exist until one spoke.

  “Ma’am, if you will come with us.” The soldier in question had brown eyes and shortly cropped hair. He was shorter than most men, but made up for it with muscle.

  Hannah stepped out of the cell. She shivered as they moved through a corridor that had cold air blowing in from above. They stopped at a secure door complete with retina scanner and security pad. The first guard hit a button outside the door. It acted like a doorbell, buzzing them in.

  An old man with a hawkish nose and white hair that faded into wisps opened the door. He wore a white lab coat. Next to him stood another soldier, this one dressed in a black uniform and also carrying a rifle and sidearm.

  Hannah tilted her head, “What exactly do you guys think I’m going to do. I’m not a criminal. I’m a college student, for God’s sake.”

  “This will be your new home for the next several months. I have a few releases for you to sign and then we’ll get started. I’m Doctor Smith.” He held out his hand as if Hannah had a choice to be there. She took it, feeling the paper-thin skin of his hand.

  She said, “Release forms? I am here under duress. I’m not signing anything.”

  With a sigh, he said, “We’ll talk in my office. Please come in. Thank you gentlemen,” he said to the guards who crisply saluted him and turned away. The door was thick metal. The doctor led her through the secured door, guarded by retina scanners and security pads. When it closed, Hannah thought that she was in an entirely different kind of jail cell.

  Hannah followed quietly.

  If someone looked in from the outside, it didn’t look like much. The guards without clearance would see an empty hallway with tile floors. The doctor opened another door with equally stiff security measures. She thought retina scanners were science fiction, but apparently they were in use here at this top secret facility.

  That’s how Hannah knew she was expendable. That’s how she knew she would have to get out fast. Someone with the kind of power to kidnap people off the street and imprison them behind cutting edge technology would answer to no one. She followed Doctor Smith, probably a fake name, through the last set of security doors to a nurse’s station.

  It smelled like antiseptic. The set up was similar to an emergency room with monitors and people in the center of a medical control center. Medical staff watched the monitors as if it were an ICU.

  Hannah frowned, “What is this place?”

  “NORAD has nothing on us. Come along, my dear,” Doctor Smith said. The way he said it gave Hannah the squidgies down her spine.

  Clenching her hands to stop the fight or flight feeling, Hannah said, “Where are we going?”

  “You’ve got some paperwork and then we have some tests to run.”

  Hannah followed the doctor down yet another hallway, this time to a wooden door with a plaque that had his name. This time there were no security measures. He had expensive tastes in desks. Hannah would know as her parents were lawyers. His executive chair was brown and the whole set up elegant.

  Across from the desk was a smaller chair, the same brown color. With a wave of his hand, Doctor Smith indicated that she should sit. He slid the papers across the desk to her. When she started to read, he raised an eyebrow.

  “You don’t need to read. Just sign them,” Doctor Smith said.

  “I’m probably not even signing them. I want to see what they are,” Hannah pushed a strand of hair away from her face and acted as if she had a choice. Her under-arms were wet and she wished that when they gave her the orange prison suit that deodorant had been part of the package. She could smell herself, so of course the doctor could, too.

  “Let me put it to you this way. If you cooperate, you will get out of here once our experiments are done. Otherwise, you’ll be left in a cell to rot. Your parents will spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened to you. You’ll never graduate, never marry, or have kids, or see the world. You’ll live bored to psychosis, alone and forgotten.”

  Forgotten. More true than Hannah would like to believe.

  She took a deep breath and focused on the papers, reading each and every line. If she signed, Hannah would be agreeing to human experimentation. She would be their lab rat. In exchange they would pay her the princely sum of three thousand dollars. Money she would never see. That was just the lump of sugar the army used to lead their subjects by the nose. Disappear forever or take three-thousand. You can’t lose.

  If what they did ever hit the light of day, there would be as many doctors and nurses saying that she willingly subjected herself to the experiments and see here, the signed documents to prove it.

  She could hear her dad’s voice now, A little attention to detail can make the difference between a thousand and a hundred thousand dollars.

  Hannah took a deep breath. She had to think this through. Fact 1. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and dying anyway. Fact 2. This was a doctor in a top secret research facility who may or may not have access to secret research to cure cancer. Fact 3. They weren’t going to let her go, no matter what. Fact 4. If she were a completely willing guinea pig, they might relax.

  She said, “Okay. Let me ask you a question. Let’s say I join you with my full agreement. When you’re done researching, will you let me go? I mean, we both know I’m here against my will. My parents are influential. They’re lawyers. I know how to keep quiet. I know about confidential. How long do your experiments last? When will I be home again?”

  “One month if you participate fully.” The doctor was a cold man. He said it with a straight face. Was he lying? Hannah couldn’t tell.

  “Do you have other medical trials? Other research that hasn’t hit the mainstream yet?” Hannah asked. She could see in his eyes that he was more serial killer than healer, but he watched her as if seeing her for the first time, as if she had suddenly become more than subject number one-thirty-seven.

  “Our research is confidential. If you want to be released in a month, don’t ask.” The doctor’s fake smile was less than reassuring. It had all the comfort of a bird of prey opening its beak.

  “I’m asking because I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. If you had some kind of
underground program for cancer, I’m willing to listen. We might be able to come to a truly mutual agreement.” Hannah held the doctor’s eyes until he looked away. Having parents for lawyers helped in all sorts of strange ways like interview preparation, writing papers in English, and negotiating with psycho doctors.

  The doctor’s demeanor changed. He leaned forward and eagerly said, “We have a few things that will give you a fighting chance with pancreatic cancer. Instead of a month, I want six months of your complete cooperation. Agree to that, and we will set you free after your time with us.”

  Six months could be a lifetime if Hannah wasn’t cured. Then again, she was already a prisoner. Even if she didn’t agree, she could be murdered and buried out in the back stretch of trees, and no one would ever know what happened to her. At least this way, she might have a chance at a normal life.

  Hannah said, “Please rewrite the contract to include what we discussed.”

  “The contract will take a few days. I need to verify that we have enough serum to procure for your treatment. In the meantime, I would like to start you on a few tests.” The doctor hit an intercom button. “Send Flynn up.”

  It wasn’t more than a minute before someone knocked on the door. Doctor Smith said, “Door’s open.”

  A woman in blue scrubs opened the door, “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

  “Run Hannah through A-3 and A-7. We’re waiting for a few changes to get her paperwork in order, but we may as well get started.” Even though he was matter-of-fact in his instructions, Hannah had the feeling that the doctor was communicating more than she was hearing, something about the inflection. She didn’t trust the doctor, didn’t trust the orderly either, but she was stuck. Hannah would do what they asked until she found an escape.

  “Yes, Sir. This way, Ma’am,” The orderly stood straight and tall. Despite her scrubs, she was military through and through.

  Hannah followed Flynn down the corridor and into a room with a chair. There was another door and a window with technical equipment. Hannah could only see what was visible through the window that separated the two rooms, but it looked like a control room.

  Flynn instructed Hannah to sit down. She gave Hannah a strange hat of fabric connected with electrodes. “There is nothing to be afraid of here. We will be making suggestions through visual and audio cues and want to see your response. There is no right or wrong answer.”

  Her life had changed so drastically in the past few days that Hannah had a moment of surreal disbelief as she smoothed her hair under the strange cap. It reminded her of a swimmer’s cap with the exception of the strange circles. Something struck her as odd. She said, “There are no wires.”

  Flynn grunted as she rolled a small table with a flat monitor across Hannah’s lap. For a moment, Hannah felt like she was at the dentist. The chair was comfortable and the disinfectant smell made it seem familiar.

  “Is Flynn your first or last name?” Hannah asked. She refused to be intimidated by this situation and decided to try for normal as much as possible.

  “Neither. It’s just what people around here call me. Are you ready? You might feel a jolt.” Flynn adjusted the computer stand until the monitor was directly facing Hannah.

  Hannah said, “I’m ready.”

  Flynn left for the control room. From her seat, Hannah could see Flynn put on a headset. She felt a strange electrical crawl along her forehead and down her neck, and then heard a light buzzing. Flynn said, “I’m going to show you some images. I want you to answer a few questions.”

  The monitor flickered to life.

  On the screen was a picture of a ball. Through the headset, Flynn asked, “What color is the ball?”

  Thinking she was engaged in the most ridiculous test ever, Hannah said, “Blue.”

  A fuzzy almost out-of-focus image of Hannah’s old dog, Petunia, appeared next. Hannah said, “Whoa, how did you do that? I don’t even have any pictures of her in my dorm room.”

  Flynn didn’t comment, just asked, “What are you seeing?”

  “My dog,” Hannah answered.

  “Okay. I want you to put something on the screen. Picture something specific in your mind. It can be anything,” Flynn said.

  Hannah closed her eyes and imagined the fountain in the lake in the middle of campus. She could see the water cascading down and the palms in the distance. When she opened her eyes, the very image had appeared on screen. There were some artifacts, as if her imagination could not make a complete picture.

  Hannah’s mouth dropped open when she saw her mind’s image on the screen, “How did you do that?”

  “It’s an interface between the mind and computer. We test your ability to see the signals that the computer sends first, then we test your ability to send to the computer.”

  “That is so cool.” Hannah straightened in her chair and thought of a banana. The image didn’t immediately appear on the screen. She frowned, “I just imagined a banana. Why isn’t it working now?”

  “It’s one of the flaws in our system. I have to give the computer a signal to prepare it to receive input. We found that people’s thoughts jump back and forth between non-related subjects too frequently. Our next batch of test subjects will be using the next rev of the program which will hopefully correct some of our signal problems,” Flynn shut down the electricity to the cap. Hannah could feel the change in her body. Flynn said, “That’s all for today.”

  Hannah could acknowledge that she was a prisoner. After the first two days of testing and the start of injections and strange blood draws and I.V. sessions to cure the cancer, she signed the contract. Hannah knew that a contract like that, signed under duress, would never stand up in court. She also understood that her life depended on everyone believing that she would never break the confidentiality of the agreement.

  In her darkest moments, Hannah knew that she was expendable, that they might not be treating her cancer at all. Doctor Smith allowed her to keep a calendar. She tracked the days. She had been at the facility for forty-five days, working diligently through every test, and waiting.

  As June turned into July, she noticed two things—the severe pain in her back and chest that had been keeping her up at nights had vanished, and she had missed her period. For ten days, she kept the information to herself.

  During the next session with Flynn she asked, “Can I talk to Doctor Smith?”

  “He’s out of town. What do you need to talk to him about?” As usual Flynn was brisk and to the point. Her demeanor never changed in all the sessions. They had never had small talk. Flynn kept things at a distance professionally and personally.

  Hannah took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure if her news would change anything. No one asked her if she was pregnant before treatment, not the way a real doctor would have. That was another hint that she would be buried in a deep grave when they were done with her. They would see it for themselves soon enough. Better that they think her cooperative.

  She said, “I think I’m pregnant. I missed my period.”

  Flynn didn’t react. She just said, “We’ll have Tully check during your next injection. Are you ready?”

  For what? Hannah thought. To be murdered in her sleep? To have a baby with a man she’d known for two hours? To be tested like a lab rat while her parents wondered where she had gone?

  Instead she said, “Ready.”

  The session was no different from any of the other thirty sessions. With each new day, she imagined scenes or fruit or flowers or animals. Sometimes Flynn would ask for more detail or ask her to imagine a certain color. For some reason, Hannah had trouble imagining a few of the colors. Her images sometimes came out gray or tinted green or blue.

  Some of the new tests included drawing what the computer sent through the cap to Hannah’s mind. Once there was a horrific scene with bodies and blood. Hannah recoiled, pulling the cap off before she could get too far into it. She said, “Don’t show me that crap.”

  Flynn apologized, “Not sure what happ
ened there. Let’s take a break for today. Doctor Smith wants to see you now, anyway.”

  Hannah took a deep breath, trying to shake off the shock of what she’d just seen. Now that she was a trusted...mostly...member of the team, she could move freely around the testing facilities. She only went outside with an escort and then only within the fences—that’s what told her she was still a prisoner...that she had no choice. At least there were plenty of trees and a walkway. The medical staff said it was for her own safety, but she hadn’t bought the lie. Not that she argued. Hannah could see how the term Stockholm Syndrome came into affect. Not that she trusted her captors, but she liked two of them for their small kindnesses.

  Knocking on Doctor Smith’s door, Hannah was certain she knew what this conversation would cover. She was officially pregnant. The whole idea of having a tiny being depend on her scared her silly, but something about the shock of cancer news compounded with all of the weird stuff that had been going on made Hannah more accepting of the possibilities. Life had taken so many twists and turns. What she hadn’t said to any of the staff, what she didn’t trust herself to say aloud...was how much she wanted this baby.

  She even had a name picked out if the baby was a girl. Noel Hope. It was not meant to be ironic. After a few panic attacks, being pregnant had given Hannah the feeling of hope, the feeling that she just might make it through these troubles after all. And the idea of a baby, once the fear subsided, had the feeling of a Christmas present. Plus, if she calculated correctly, the baby should come around December.

  “Come in.” The doctor’s voice rang from behind the closed door.

  Hannah pushed the door open. Doctor Smith waved her in. He didn’t waste any time getting to the point, “I hear you’re pregnant.”