“Uhh, no thanks.”
“Um, X… I’m not sure—” Marissa begins.
“Seriously,” Xander insists. “It will be fun.”
“Seriously,” I say. “No.”
“Fun?” someone says from behind me. Clearly I’m not the only one who thinks his friendliness is a bad idea; everyone except Xander seems a little bit on edge now.
“Come on,” he says. He points to me. “I bet you could beat Elijah’s score on your first go.”
“Xander, she doesn’t want to do it. Just leave her alone,” Nate says.
A small flame ignites inside me. “I never said I didn’t want to,” I say to him.
“Then let’s see it,” Xander says.
Nate stares at me, begging me not to do it. I look back at Xander, who I don’t want to please either. At least I could establish who the real dangerous person is in this Base.
I walk past Xander and toward the stand of all the weapons and throwing items. I can almost hear the Metanites’ heartbeats stop when I pick up a stack of five small daggers. I step onto the arena without looking back at the others—I’m ninety-five percent sure their faces are white, anyway.
“How’s the scoring work?” I ask. I glance around at the barrels, hurdles, boxes, and statues throughout the arena, all with white and red circular targets labeled here and there.
“Oh, umm… bull’s eye is five hundred, the white ring is two-fifty, hanging and flying objects are double, and distance is triple bonus,” Xander says.
Hmm, probably shouldn’t aim for the statues… wouldn’t want to give the wrong first impression.
“And, uh… a miss is negative two-fifty,” Xander says.
“Five bucks on Annika,” I hear Abraham whisper.
“Shhh,” Nate whispers back to him.
Xander hits a button, and the arena turns on. Targets sweep in from the walls and fly toward the ceiling; statues and hurdles spin and revolve around me; the floor shifts, dragging me in one direction while other sections of the floor shoot up or down.
I jump and grab onto a target flying toward the ceiling then launch my first dagger across the arena. I swing and leap through the arena, throwing the knives when a target presents itself. I know my performance is good—it looks pretty damn good, too. With my last dagger plunged deep into the bull’s eye of the tallest hanging target, I land on the floor of the arena and hold my stance. Five bull’s eyes, and not once did I use any of my nuclear abilities.
A thunder of applause rings from behind me. I rise to stand, and when I turn around I see half of the Metanites jumping and cheering in elation; the other half gapes at me. I walk back to them with a small grin. Perhaps this wasn’t the best move if I wanted these people to like me, but at least they now know who the dangerous one is.
“Oh my God!” Marissa exclaims. The arena dies with a low drown sound as I step off the arena floor. “That was incredible!”
“Holy Hell… How did you do that?”
“That’s…seven-thousand points,” Xander says. I guess he now regrets his proposal.
“Damn,” Elijah says. He steps forward and raises his hand to me. I hesitate, but then I reach up and give him a high five. “Nicely done.”
I blush and look around at everyone’s expressions. All but two aren’t smiling: Izzi and Xander. That shows them not to challenge me again. Even Zoë smiles, which surprises me. I wonder if she—
EEERRRR!!! EEERRRR!!! EEERRRR!!! An obnoxious, resounding buzzer thunders through the room. I jump out of my skin; Nate falls out of his chair, but Nickel catches him; Marissa jumps and grabs my arm tightly.
What the hell…
“Shit!” Lazzer shouts. He runs toward the billboard screens, presses a few buttons on the table, and the alarm stops.
“Goddamn it! Who turned the volume up on the alarm?!” Xander shouts. His hands are flattened against his ears.
“My bad,” Abraham says. “Thought I was turning up my beats.”
I glance over at the billboard screens. A red, flashing light borders the far screen that shows the video of the front entrance of Kenyon. There’s a man in a dark coat leaving soggy footprints from his steel-toed shoes. His face hides underneath his dripping umbrella. Something about him seems oddly familiar…
“Cliff, what are you doing down here?” Nate says.
I glance over and see the young blonde boy with big blue eyes—oh, the teleporter from the hospital. He stares at Nate, and the more I look between the two of them, the more certain I am they are brothers. Or at least half brothers.
“Moton sent me. There’s someone here,” Cliff says. His voice shakes.
“Yeah we know what the alarm means,” Xander says.
“What does the alarm mean?” I whisper. I thought Marissa was next to me, but I glance over and see that I had whispered to Zoë instead.
“It means that someone’s in the building who shouldn’t be here—someone who doesn’t know the Metanites are here,” she whispers back. It’s the nicest thing she’s even said to me.
“Well, who is it?” Elijah asks Cliff.
Cliff says nothing but turns to stare directly at me. I look back to the billboard screens, and the others follow suit. The dark figure is now chatting with a female receptionist. He shakes his umbrella, and more rain bounces off it. At last, he lowers and closes the umbrella, revealing his face.
Oh shit.
“Dr. Nancy,” Kiaria says.
All eyes are on me now, but I can’t take mine away from him. Twenty-two months, and I have yet to see him face-to-face. I hear his low, cold voice whispering in my ear and down my spine. I am frozen like the statues in the arena.
“We need to lock the Base. Everyone spilt up and stall him—he’s probably heading to the hospital area. Zoë, you and I will take Annika to Moton’s office. Cliff, go warn Ms. Grenavich,” Nate says.
“Let Elijah go with Annika instead of you,” Kiaria says to Nate. “No offense, but you would slow them down.”
“You should be in the hospital to meet them, anyway,” Zoë says.
Dr. Nancy still chats with the receptionist. Then another man comes into the view of the camera: it’s Dr. Reins. He’s smiling… he walks up to the doctor and… shakes his hand…
Traitor. I knew they were in this together!
Now they’re patting each other’s backs. This was all just a trap. I feel the fire inside burning, growing hotter with each second.
“We’ll take her there,” Elijah says.
Zoë grabs my arm and says, “Let’s go.”
Go—I couldn’t agree more.
We hurry to the elevator, and Zoë sends us to the tenth floor. Elijah says something about Dr. Reins’ office and safety, but I ignore him. I know exactly where my exit is, and as soon as I get out of this damn elevator, I’m running for it. Come-on… this elevator needs to speed it up.
Finally, the doors open, and we walk through one of the main elevators and onto the main floor. Now where is the North Wing?
Zoë and Elijah lead me to the left, and then I see it: the EMERGENCY EXIT sign on the window at the end of the North hall. I let Zoë and Elijah go just a little bit more in front of me, then I sprint toward the window.
“Hey!” Zoë shouts. I hear her and Elijah’s footsteps chase after me.
I charge at the window and crash through it and onto a set of stairs. Glass shatters around me and cuts my face and arms. A rattling alarm starts.
“Annika!” Elijah yells.
I regain my balance and scale down the stairs. Cuts on the back of my hands are already bleeding. When my feet hit the ground, I start running. I start running, and I don’t look back.
VII: A Booming Holiday
Monday, March 17, 2065; 8:36 a.m.
First person
The city exhausted all efforts to purge the city of the grime and dirt, leaving some areas to collect all the dirt swept off the main streets. The boat docks on Lake Erie suffered the most. Cleveland has such a beautiful (relatively) lake at its
disposal, and yet a disposal is all the city tends to use it for. It’s a pity, really. However, the deserted boats offer an easy and safe retreat for homeless people and nomads like myself; until May when people return to their boats and wonder why it reeks of fish and piss. I know the Metanites won’t find me here… I wonder what they’re up to right now.
I thought about hiding my tangible dirt here, but I didn’t want to chance a druggie finding it and trying to eat it—or worse. So I put it somewhere I knew only one person could find it, somewhere I knew I could go back to when it’s time to use it.
I chose my boat because it has a stocked first aid kit and a descent bathroom. Spiders have overtaken most of the bathroom, but a little Raid and dusting took care of that. I stand in front of the sink and grimy mirror and dig through the first aid kit for alcohol wipes.
Today is Monday, March seventeenth. Happy frick’en St. Patrick’s Day. Woke up with my stomach in knots because even though the boat didn’t rock in the icy-covered lake, just being on a boat makes me seasick. It’s a good location though, for now.
I re-clean the cuts on my arm from crashing through the Kenyon window. No cut was too deep, but they still sting. At least they don’t look too suspicious: someone could easily mistake them for scratches from a dog.
I inspect the bullet wound on my side then on my back. Nate was right. Whatever shot he gave me made the wound heal much quicker, although the bullet will leave a permanent scar. I glance further down my back. Scars decorate my back, but none are as striking as the one on my lower left side. The scar came from an experiment—the most momentous, unique experiment—that Dr. Nancy has never repeated since. The scar is about the size of a quarter, slightly purple, and is the shape of the Roman numeral IX. Not sure how it’s related to the number nine, but what it signifies no one outside the experiment could understand.
The ECs (experimental children) know what it means. The scientists who witnessed and created the experiment know what it means. Dr. Nancy knows what it means. New-bee knows what it means. But none of them know the burden of it—that I carry alone.
“What is that?” a young child asks. He’s an EC, and a friend.
More ECs stand around, and all take a look at the new scar. The girl with blonde, curly hair is there, too. And New-bee.
“It looks like they carved it to be a design,” says an EC with red hair and a green baseball hat with a four-leaf clover on it.
“It looks deep,” New-bee says. He stares at me, and I can see in his eyes how angry he is. Not at me but at the people who cut into me.
You have no idea, I thought to myself. The blonde girl smiles at me and takes my hand. They are all dead now. The only two who remain are New-bee and myself.
I shake the flashback away and pull my shirt back on. I need to go for a walk and clear my head… get away from these dreams and this damn boat. Maybe get some food, too. I exit the boat and head for downtown.
The crowds are all dressed in green and orange. The closer I come to Superior Avenue, the heavier the crowd. In Cleveland, when people become excited about something, they go all out. Beaded necklaces, hats inspired by Alice in Wonderland, bright green tights, leprechaun costumes, four-leaf clovers. People are literally walking around as giant four-leaf clovers. Street vendors coat the sidewalks with their tables and tables of merchandize. On Superior Avenue, the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade begins, and the crowd cheers.
Today, I don’t blend in. By looking ordinary in Marissa’s jeans and Cleveland Browns shirt, I stand out like a penny in a bag of Skittles. While a vendor busily sells necklaces to a mother with two whining children, I grab a green jacket with an orange four-leaf clover on it. Maybe it will bring me some luck.
I continue walking toward the center of downtown. I haven’t seen any of them or the Metanites since yesterday when I escaped from Kenyon. Now, looking across the busy street, I see Bruce and Dean standing against a building. They both stare off in different directions, unaware that I’m right in front of them. Bruce has stitches over one of his eyebrows, and Dean’s eye is still slightly bruised. Still, the hunting crew is back on the hunt.
Some luck, I think to myself. I dodge into the closest store. A make-up store—really?
I look around at the jam-packed store: hair products, eye shadow, foundation, a bunch of crap that I’ve never heard of… and pink. Everything pink and purple.
“Hello! Welcome to Cosmogirl’s! How can I help you?!” a bubbly voice shouts at me. A petite girl wearing a pink and purple apron stands in front of me, staring a smiling. At least four pounds of makeup surround her eyes.
“What? Oh, umm—no. No, I’m fine,” I say, and then I dart over to a deserted aisle of hairbands and bobby pins.
I try to look through the mob of people standing by the store windows to see if Bruce or Dean noticed me, but I see nothing. How long can I keep this up? Can’t they at least give me the holiday off?
“Psst!” someone hisses at me.
I look down and see Marissa and Zoë crouched down against the shelf of my aisle and staring up at me.
Goddamn-it.
“What? How did you—?” I say.
“Shh! We’re hiding,” Marissa says, holding her finger to her mouth.
“Hiding from who?”
“We don’t know. Aren’t you hiding from someone?”
“No…not anymore,” I say, rolling my eyes. They stand up and adjust their clothes. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Zoë says, as if I should have known that.
“How did you find me?”
Marissa points to my, well, her shirt. “Tracking device in the tag.”
“Marissa has a tracker on every item of clothing she’s ever owned,” Zoë says.
“So who else is here? Did you bring the whole Metanite team to come get me again?” I ask.
“No, just the two of us, and Eli is outside,” Marissa says.
“Do they all know where I am? Who else knows?”
“Just us, Elijah, and Kia. We only told them in case something happened and we needed backup.”
“I only came so Marissa didn’t come alone, like she wanted to do,” Zoë says.
“Can I help you girls find something?!” another bubbly Cosmogirl worker asks us.
“No, we’re fine. Thanks,” I say to her. The girl leaves. I stand and stare at Marissa and Zoë in silence. I’m not the one who has explaining to do.
“What happened?” Marissa asks me. “Why did you take off like that? We were just trying to keep you sa—”
“Keep me safe?” I say. “You shouldn’t have let him in the building. You shouldn’t have let me in the building.”
I turn to walk away, but someone grabs my arm.
“No, Annika—”
I turn around, and to my surprise, Zoë had stopped me.
“We’re sorry. We had no idea Dr. Nancy would come to see Moton. Honest,” she says.
“Does he come to see Dr. Reins often?”
“No, no, it’s a complicated situation…”
“Awesome. Don’t fill me in, or anything. It’s only my head he’s after, and it’s so nice to know that his partner runs a group of silly superhuman heroes and promises to keep me safe!”
“That’s not—!” Marissa says
“Quiet, Marissa,” Zoë says. She keeps her eyes on me. “Dr. Nancy and Moton are not partners.”
“Then why the hell were they so friendly with each other?” I say. “How do you even know what side Dr. Reins is on, because I think I know what side he’s on, and it’s certainly not mine!?”
“Can’t you see? We are all on your side. That’s why we’re here,” Marissa says.
“Kono and Izzi, too? Even you?” I ask Zoë.
“I came for Marissa, but that doesn’t mean I’m against you. Annika, we’re not trying to turn you in or get anything out of you. We’re just trying to protect you from the people coming after you,” Zoë says.
“Protect me?”
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“Yes, and we knew the other Metanites wouldn’t want to approach you this way, so we didn’t tell them.”
I look down. There seems to be some truth to what they are saying, but still, I don’t trust Dr. Reins. I look back up at Zoë.
“I don’t trust the man who let Dr. Nancy into his building and treated him like a friend,” I say.
“Moton doesn’t work with your—er, Dr. Nancy, and you can trust him,” Zoë says. She sighs. “I know what it’s like to be running from people and to be afraid to trust others. Before I came to the States and became a Metanite, my family was killed by the German Mafia. Before they died, my parents sent me to the States where Moton found me and took me in. He helped make Kenyon my home.”
She glances around the room and shifts her feet.
“I know I can’t convince to you trust Moton, but I trust him. After all he’s done for you to heal you and let you into Kenyon, I don’t see how you could think he’s out to hurt you,” she says.
“Truth is,” Marissa says, “Moton has been investigating Dr. Nancy for over a year now. That’s the only reason why Moton communicates with him.”
I hesitate. Could that be true? There’s evidence both for and against their case, and I can’t seem to separate the bullshit from the truth.
“I want to see proof… proof that he’s really investigating Dr. Nancy,” I say.
Zoë and Marissa’s faces illuminate, and smiles break out on their faces.
“So does this mean you’ll come back—for a little while, at least?” Marissa asks.
I open my mouth to respond when the door to Cosmogirl’s creaks open and the clicking of steel-toed shoes hits the tile floor.
My head jerks toward the noise. New-bee walks in with a tall woman at his side. I recognize the woman as his older sister, Eva, but that’s not good news. She works for Dr. Nancy’s hunting crew, too, and she’s more ruthless than Bruce. They scan the store until the bubbly store-greeters call their attention.
“Shit!” I say. I pull Marissa and Zoë down against the shelf.
“What? Are we hiding again?” Marissa asks.
“They’re here. They found me,” I respond.
The Nancy Experiment Page 7