The Nancy Experiment

by McKenna, Tess

  “I never expected Izzi to be a part of this,” Marissa says.

  She has the map I drew of Dr. Nancy’s factory, all six floors, laid out on the table. Zoë warms the tomato sauce in the microwave as I dish out five bowls of steaming pasta.

  “Yeah, or X. Then again, I can’t believe any of us could’ve done it,” Elijah says.

  “To Hell with them. The next time I see Izzi I’ll beat the invisibility out of her,” Zoë says.

  “Zoë!” Marissa exclaims.

  “What? They betrayed us, all of us, and everything we stand for! I can’t wait to see her rot in prison for the rest of her miserable life,” Zoë says. She passes out the bowls of pasta with tomato sauce.

  “I’m with Zoë,” Elijah says. “And the next time I see that psychopathic woman…”

  “Eva,” I interrupt. “Her name is Eva.”

  “Annika, you okay? You look sick.”

  I sit down at the table and support my throbbing head with my hands. Flashes of Xander’s body falling to the ground with that gaping wound on his chest… flashes of Basia holding a dagger in front of me in the bitter night of Austria…

  “I’m sorry about Xander,” I say.

  “Annika, don’t. Xander was a bad person. He deserved―”

  “No he didn’t. And he was your friend,” I protest.

  “Let’s forget about them for the time being. Instead, we can figure out how we’re going to stop Dr. Nancy,” Marissa says. Zoë, Elijah, and I silently agree. “Annika, do you have a plan?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah,” Marissa says. “You know this place better than any of us.”

  I smile and examine the blueprint of the factory.

  “You got a plan, don’t you?” Elijah asks.

  I lean over the maps and grab three colored markers sitting next to Zoë.

  “We’re going to smoke them out,” I say.

  “I like this already,” Elijah says.

  I uncap the green marker. “Since they believe Nate and I are dead, and―no offense―they’re not counting on the Metanites to take the offensive, we’ve got the advantage of a surprise attack. We can enter through the hospital where there’s a laundry chute that connects to the factory,” I say, and I circle an unmarked spot on a wall on the second floor. With the green marker, I draw a line headed toward the long, large room where the ECs are kept. “Zoë and Marissa, this green line is you two. Get to the EC’s room, and get all of them out of the building. There’s a slanting hallway close by― the kids will know where to go― that leads outside. I’m trusting you two to get every last one of them out safely.”

  “We can manage that,” Zoë says.

  “If they wonder who you are, just tell them you’re a friend of Cassie’s.”

  “But… don’t they know you as Basia?”

  “Yes, but they’ll know what’s happening if you say Cassie.” I uncap the blue marker. “Nate, you and Eli are going to smoke the place out, so you’ll need to get to the fifth floor where the generator is. You guys know how to reverse the air conditioning and feed smoke through the vents, right?”

  “No problem,” Nate says from the chair in front of the computer system. “By the way, I think I’ve got this…” and as he speaks, the screen in front of him turns blue, and a small doodle of a chirping bird appears on the screen.

  The bird fades, and a somewhat pixilated image of Abraham’s face appears on the screen. Abraham sees Nate through the screens, and backs his face away from the camera. In the background, we can see an unmade bed with a mixed pile of clean and dirty shirts and socks on it, so we know Abraham is in his room.

  “Hey, it works!” Abraham says.

  “Abe, how’s it going?” Nate says.

  “I’m not too bad. Still on this stupid post-concussion thing, although Kia doesn’t have to wake me up anymore.”

  “That’s good,” Nate says.

  “Abe!” Zoë says. She, Elijah, and Marissa swarm to the screens. I follow them and stand behind Nate.

  “Hi guys! Nice to see you all alive and not bleeding. Honestly, Marissa, red is not your color,” Abraham says. “Hey, is that Annika?!”

  I wave at him and smile. “Hi Abe.”

  “Hi! You doing okay? No post-traumatic stress symptoms, no water in your lungs, no multiple personality disorders, or radiation level irregularities?”

  “Ha, no I’m okay Abe.”

  “Yeah, I’ll leave all that medical stuff to Dr. Reilly.”

  “Abe, how are things in Kenyon?” Nate asks.

  “Bad, dude. People are wigging-out, and the kids don’t know what’s going on, so they’re nervous. Kia and Moton are trying to tie things together, but the FBI is breathing down Moton’s neck, and the rest of us are going through interrogations.”

  “Even you?”

  “No, I get a pass because I’m concussed and because they think I’m an idiot.”

  “How are the others?”

  “Eh… they’re coping. Nickel has been trying to help Kia whenever they’re not babysitting me. Kia is taking the lead, but I know she’s just trying to tough it out. Kono didn’t take the news about Izzi and Xander too well. She’s been training like crazy and breaking things all day. We’re just giving her some space.”

  “And Lazz?” Nate asks.

  “Mmhhh… Lazz has been… he’s been really grouchy. Ever since you left with Annika, he’s been… well… a ball of electric anger, and he’s worse since we found out Xander and Izzi were the moles,” Abraham says. “Yeah, when you guys get back, Nate… just stay away from him for a while.”

  Nate is silent, as are the others. The emotional conflict that comes with a friend’s betrayal silences the Metanites. I know better than to comment because I’ve been through this, and I know the only thing they want more than to confront the traitor is to forget about them completely.

  “Abe, we have a plan to take down Dr. Nancy,” I tell him.

  “Really?” he says. He sounds sincerely uplifted.

  “All you need to know is that we’re smoking the place out from the inside. You and Kia need to get the others, the FBI, CIA, MI6, news reporters, the fire department, ambulances, and anyone else to that deserted barber shop this Tuesday at nine thirty in the morning.”

  “Ooowh! You guys storming the castle?”

  “What?” Zoë asks.

  “It’s a movie reference… you know… the princess and the… oh, forget it!”

  “Abe,” I say. “When you get there, don’t do anything. Just wait for the signal.”

  “Okay, what’s the signal?”

  “Zoë and Marissa. Nate and Elijah are smoking out the rats.”

  “Cool, so what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find the doctor,” I say.

  I straighten out my blankets on a bed in the tight bedroom. The others already have blankets and a pillow on one of the six sets of bunk beds, total twelve beds. The door creaks open, and Zoë sticks her head in.

  “Hey, Eli and I are going on a walk. Don’t worry; no one will see us,” she says.

  “Okay, have a nice time,” I reply.

  She smiles and closes the door again. Five seconds later, the door creaks open, and Nate pokes his head into the room.

  “Hey, mind if I come in?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  I flatten out the wrinkles on my bed and sit down. Nate sits down next to me and sighs, nervous and relieved.

  “I have good news. Father Jack, Warnock… he’s alive. He was wearing a bulletproof vest when he was shot, but when he fell he hit his head and went unconscious. A couple days in the hospital and he’ll be fine. A nurse who is a member of a neighboring church is going to stay with him for a few weeks until he’s cleared.”

  “You’re serious??” I say, smiling. “A bulletproof vest… I really shouldn’t be this surprised.”

  “Yeah, I was glad when I heard the news, too.”

  “Thanks for telling me. That’s great news,�
�� I say.

  Nate nods and studies the floor. I sigh, anticipating the next subject of conversation to be far more difficult than the first.

  “I guess I… I don’t think… I haven’t had time to cope with… with all that happened and all we went through last night,” Nate says.

  “Yeah, me neither,” I say.

  He sighs again. “I… hmm…”

  “Thank you, you know, for saving me back there,” I say.

  “Well, it’s thanks to you I remembered the mortum pills.”

  “No, thank you for coming back for me before Eva and Bruce found us. I was ready to die, and I thought I deserved to die.”

  “You don’t still think that, do you?” he asks, looking up at me. I smile and shake my head. “Good,” he says, “because I don’t want you to die.”

  “I might, though. This last mission… it’s dangerous, and there’s a good chance that I’m not going to make it out alive.”

  “No,” Nate protests. “You have to make it.”

  “But I―”

  “No. You have to live.”

  “I know. I’ll do my best, but if I don’t,” I say. Nate looks down at the ground. “If I don’t… I need you to tell the others my story. I’m sure you know more than just what I’ve told you, the good and the bad, and the others deserve to hear it, if not from me, then from you.”

  Nate nods. “Okay, I’ll tell them.”

  I don’t know what to do next. Say thank you, maybe, but I must have said that a million times already. So I give Nate a hug. It surprises him, but then he wraps his free arm around my back and leans closer.

  “Zoë knows I kissed you,” he says.

  I laugh. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that… it just kind of slipped. It was a clever way to give me the mortum pill.”

  “Thank you―that’s what I thought. Now Zoë’s going to be spying on our every move.”

  “Ugh… I know…” I say.

  Nate and I pull away from each other slightly. He stares at me, his face six inches from mine, and we sit completely still. His eyes shoot down at the blanket then flicker to the other side of the room.

  “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep, and if you ever need something―anything―I’ll be here to help,” he says, standing up.

  “Okay, thanks, Nate.”

  “No problem. Goodnight, Annika.”

  “Goodnight.”

  XXIX: Into the Factory

  Saturday, April 5, 2065; 8:57 a.m.

  First person

  Nate, Elijah, Marissa, Zoë, and I stand at the edge of the woods next to Reidman’s Park, a small clearing with a swing set overlooking the lake. The air is chilly this morning, but the sky looks promising of a clear, sunny day― then again, this is Cleveland. There could be snow in half an hour. We hear the sirens howl louder and louder until the ambulance turns down Lakeshore Boulevard speeding toward us. Nate turns to me.

  “Alright, pull the hoodie on,” he says.

  I zip my black jacket all the way up so my face is completely covered. Elijah picks me up, and I let my limbs and head hang lifelessly. I hear the ambulance stop just twenty feet in front of us. Elijah jogs toward the vehicle; doors click open, and I’m placed on a hard, flat surface. I hear Zoë and Marissa climb in and shut the doors. I unzip my jacket. The three of us sit in the congested backroom of the ambulance. With no windows but the circle, shaded frames on the back doors, the space feels like the inside of an overloaded safe.

  “They bought it?” I ask.

  “They don’t have to. Nate knows them through his internship at the hospital, and somehow they owe him a favor,” Marissa explains.

  The back doors click open again, and Nate and Elijah climb in. They lock the door behind them and crouch down by the doors.

  “Okay, they’re taking us directly to the morgue of the downtown clinic,” Nate says. “Let’s get you three in the bags.”

  “Oh wait― here,” Zoë says, handing me a black, green, and blue friendship bracelet. “We had to take it off you when we put the hypothermic wrap on your hands and wrists.”

  “Thanks,” I say. I tie the bracelet around my wrist as the ambulance takes off. Marissa, Zoë, and I pull the dark blue bags off the wall and crawl in. Kind of odd how closely these body bags resemble sleeping bags… that’s a bit unsettling.

  “So what did you do last time you went into Dr. Nancy’s lab?” Marissa asks.

  “What do you mean?” I respond.

  “How’d you get in last time.”

  “The deserted barber shop.”

  “And you just copied the files and left?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “I was just wondering how they figured out you―”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Marissa, just let it go,” Nate says. “Let’s focus on the mission at hand.” We say nothing more as Elijah and Nate throw on blue lab coats then zip the body-bags-sleeping-bags shut. Then we wait and wait and wait until the ambulance pulls into the University Downtown Clinic.

  Nate and Elijah shove the backdoors open and hand the girls and me over to the clinic workers who place us on hard, rolling tables and wheel us into the hospital. Inside, doctors and nurses holler and spit out orders as we are pushed through the hectic hallway.

  “Three to the morgue! Three to the morgue! Clear a path!” Nate shouts. His voice comes from directly behind my head― so he and Elijah must be pushing Marissa, Zoë, and I again. By-passers grumble and shuffle to the side, and eventually we come to a stop in a much quieter, enclosed space. DING! and the room jerks then begins to descend. JERK, DING!, CLICK, and we’re pushed into a cold, sulfur-stenching room that is completely quiet except for the squeaking, rolling wheels of the tables against the tile floor and a low, relentless buzzing from the ceiling.

  “We’ve got three Jane Does for you, Doc… red tagged,” Nate says.

  “Red tagged, eh?” Let me turn the cameras off and I’ll be right over,” an animated voice replies.

  Nate pulls my cart to a halt, and the doctor takes ignorant, clicking steps toward me.

  “These count as my fourth red tagged shipments this month! I’m curious to see what the FBI thinks I can give them from these three new victims,” the man says.

  “You never know,” Nate says.

  I listen as the doctor unzips my bag and hum curiously at my face. I open my eyes and look directly into the aging, pale face of the doctor. He gasps, but then I blind him with a shocking white light from my eyes. The doctor stumbles back, hollering, and then Nate grabs him and holds a chloroform cloth over the doctor’s nose and mouth. The doctor struggles, but Nate holds fast, and soon the middle-aged man is motionless and asleep. I crawl out of my bag and free Zoë and Marissa from their bags as Elijah and Nate stash the doctor in a supply closet.

  “Nice one, Annika and Nate,” Elijah says. He closes the closet door on the unconscious doctor and yanks the blue lab coat off his back.

  Thanks,” Nate says.

  He hangs the blue lab coats on a tall hook and pulls on a pair of black gloves that match his black pants and shirt. All of us wear the same black attire―black, fitted pants with tight black shirts―though I’m the only one wearing a jacket. After all, I’m supposed to be dead.

  “Where to now?” Marissa asks.

  “This way,” I say, walking toward the doctor’s desk. I remove a large poster of orange-lit cancer cells and reveal a sealed four-by-four-foot square on the wall.

  “Marissa?” I call.

  She grabs a metal cane and holds the end against the square. The wall juts out at us; then the square snaps off the wall, creating a hole in the wall exactly where the seal outlined the square. The hole opens to a four-foot-wide chute that drops directly into the factory.

  Nate passes all of us a harness, which he stashed in Zoë’s body bag, and Marissa sets up the pulley system for the chute. We tighten the harnesses around our waists and fasten ourselves to the rope on Marissa’s pulley system.

&n
bsp; “We secure? Will this hold all of us?” Zoë asks.

  “Please―my dad would disown me if I couldn’t fashion a strong system,” Marissa assures us.

  “Okay, Eli and Nate, you two go first. I’ll follow, then Riss and Zo, you anchor,” I instruct.

  Elijah and Nate climb into the chute and repel into the darkness. I maneuver into the chute. With my back against one wall and my feet pushing against the other, I lower myself down the chute, one hand scaling down at a time. When Marissa and Zoë are both in the chute, I take a second to shoot a white and gold photon down to Elijah to light his path. We descend a full story until I feel a grated surface against my back.

  “Here,” I whisper. Everyone stops. “Eli and Nate, you’re down three more floors. Zoë, Marissa, and the others will meet you down there when all the kids are safe and out of the building.”

  “Alright, go get ‘em, girls,” Elijah says.

  “When this is done, Annika, we’re taking you out for some good Cleveland food,” Zoë says.

  “That’s generous. I’ll hold you all to that offer,” I tease.

  “So long as you make it out,” Elijah says, “which you better do.”

  “I will, you guys watch your backs, too,” I say.

  “Deal?” Nate asks.

  “Deal,” I reply.

  “Good luck, Annika,” he says.

  “Thanks, you too,” I say.

  Nate and Elijah continue descend down the chute. I turn myself around, unclip my harness from the rope, and plant my feet against the grate.

  “Ready?” I ask Marissa and Zoë.

  “Ready,” they reply.

  I take a deep breath, pull the hood of my black sweater over my head, and blast an explosive beam of white and gold energy at the grated block. The square grate flies outward into a white, hard-metal hall. I swing out of the chute and slide into the hall, meanwhile tossing gas explosives at the hall guards standing at either side of the long hall. The tiny bombs explode, releasing a thick, black smoke that stuns the guards. I’m on my feet, and I charge the guard on my left. Two hits― he’s down on the floor.