by Jakob Farrar
And then he was asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Answers
Was it a dream? Mark didn’t know. Right now, he felt like it had been. That whole week felt like one long, horrible dream, a figment of his imagination. Mark only saw darkness, so he assumed that he would be waking up soon, in the comfort of his bed. He would go downstairs and eat and then go to school.
But it was not to be.
A light flickered on in front of Mark. He was against the wall of an empty room. He couldn’t move. He heard voices outside, and a door opened on the opposite side of the room. A man walked in. He wasn’t very tall, but he wasn’t short either. He wore a black hat and glasses. He closed the door behind him, walking slowly to the center of the room.
“Mark Konners,” the man said, gazing over Mark, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. My name is Peyton Burton.”
“Where am I?” Mark said flatly.
“You are in the Secret Service Headquarters, located miles outside of the Sector’s boundaries. I’m surprised you don’t recognize it; you were here only a little over a week ago.”
“Why am I here?”
“That,” Peyton said, “Is a long story. But we have a little bit of time, so I’ll let you in on some of it. The history of our Nation is somewhat of a mystery to most. All that we know is that we are the last of a previously great and powerful country that was unwittingly brought to its demise by the coalition of several smaller enemies. The only person that understands the story completely is President Xandar. We do know, however, that we are not the only remnants of this dead nation.”
“Wait,” Mark said, “We’re not the only people here?”
“Not at all, but please be quiet so that I can explain this easily. When this nation crumbled it was up to the human race to realign in order to survive. However, there was one tribe that resisted this alliance. Nearly a hundred years ago, after the establishment of the Nation, the Leonic tribe waged a vicious war against the newly born Nation, nearly destroying it. The Nation’s only upper hand was its superior technology. The Leonics, history reveals, were a tribe of brutal warriors that focused on strict tradition and a reliance on all but technology. The Nation won the war and scattered the Leonics, but just barely. Several years and an entire generation passed, and it was my generation of leaders that decided to begin Project Leon.
“Project Leon was a revolutionary endeavor suggested and overseen by President Xandar twenty years ago that took eight children, one from each Sector. These children were experimented on and tested in order to create a generation of superhumans in order to use as a front lines defense system should the Leonics ever appear. The process was incredibly complicated, and not easily replicated, although not impossibly so. At first glance the final serum given to the children did not seem to work. Funding for the Project was cut by the Council in order to focus on other possible defense systems as we began to observe more activity pointing to the return of the Leonics.”
Mark’s head was spinning. It seemed impossible for him to comprehend all of this new information. He had never thought of the possibility of other people already living outside the Nation.
“Of course,” Peyton continued, “Project Leon wasn’t a failure. When Byron showed up we were taken by complete surprise and were unable to act fast enough to control the situation. He hopped on a train and began gathering you all up. By that time most of the governors simply wanted to kill you all. I stopped them, though. I told them that your original purpose was not to be killed, but to be used. And that’s what we’re going to do now. In fact, we believe that the Leonics have begun to attempt to replicate Project Leon. When we figure out more, you will be notified. But until then, we won’t be seeing each other that much.”
“Wait!” Mark shouted as Peyton turned around and began to walk out of the room. “You can’t expect me to not-” Suddenly Mark felt something prick the back of his neck and he soon fell asleep.
“Who are you?” Phoebe asked as Peyton walked into the room. She was locked up on the wall in the same way Mark was. Peyton simply stood there for a moment before saying, “I’m your father.” Phoebe began to laugh sarcastically.
“Yeah, there’s no way I’m believing that,” she said, “Trust me, you’re not my father.”
“But I am, Phoebe. My name is Peyton Burton. I’m the Head of the Secret Service and I’ve been put in charge of you and the other Unnatural. You’re going to help us save the world.”
“My parents are far away from here,” Phoebe said.
“They are not your real parents,” Peyton said, “It’s a long story.”
“Then tell it,” Phoebe wasn’t waiting for an answer.
“When I became the Head of the Secret Service, you were born. I was put in charge of overseeing Project Leon, a program that studied young children in order to figure out how we could genetically modify humans to give them powers. I offered you as a test subject. But the tests failed. At least, it seemed like they had. I originally wanted to take you back, but I was advised against it. So I sent you to my brother. At the time I had no clue what he or his wife would turn in to, and I am horribly sorry. I just didn’t want to have to raise you in that kind of environment. One where you would have to keep my secret. And I did think about taking you back, almost every single day. But your mother showed me that I shouldn’t. She went nearly insane under the pressure my job put on her. Her health suffered, and she died from the stress. I didn’t want that for you, so I simply kept an eye on you from afar.”
“You could have quit,” Phoebe said, “You could have left the Service.”
“No,” Peyton said, shaking his head mournfully, “There is no leaving the Service. To do so would mean certain death. It’s too dangerous.”
“If you really loved me, you would have risked it.”
“And left you fatherless, knowing that your adoptive parents were just that? I would’ve died soon after you found out. That would have crippled you even more than you already were. Believe me, that was what was best for you at the time, even if it did hurt you, physically and emotionally.”
“You’re lying,” Phoebe said through gritted teeth, “You’re saying that you left me with him,” she spit out the word, referring to Peyton’s brother, with disgust, “to pursue your own career, your own desires,” Phoebe’s voice rose, “You left me with him so that I wouldn’t get in the way of you succeeding. You don’t love me, not at all.” She struggled against the restraints.
“And now look at you,” Phoebe said, “You’re locking me away in some prison in your headquarters. You’re going to use me as your tool to get what you want.”
“I love you, Phoebe,” Peyton said, ignoring Phoebe’s hateful words, “You might not see it, but I genuinely do.”
As Peyton walked out of the door, his daughter screaming at him as he did so, he struggled to compose himself. His conversation with Phoebe had disrupted his usually calm stature, although he should have expected that as soon as he walked into the door. Phoebe was just like him; she found it hard to forgive people, especially when they’ve done something horribly wrong, as he had, even, perhaps particularly, when the deed had been done unintentionally.
Peyton had to put his act together, though. His next meeting would be one of importance; Peyton was going to speak with the leader of the Unnatural, and, perhaps, convince him to fight for them.
“Your mother’s brilliant, you know,” Byron could hear, “She really amazed me.”
Byron opened his eyes, finding that he was in a similar situation as Mark. Peyton stood in front of him.
“Oh, and, don’t bother trying to read my mind,” Peyton said, “We’ve found a way to succumb that ability, at least for now. We’ve given you a very small dose of what we used on Phoebe in Sector Six. Don’t worry, though, we’ll give it back to you later.”
“You said something about my mother,” Byron said, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, “What do you mean?”
“Your mother,” Peyton said, “Was a genius. She found a way to replicate the Unnatural serum and give you your abilities.”
“What?”
Peyton told Byron about the Leonic invasion and Project Leon. “So,” Byron said, “I’m not the Unnatural from Sector Seven?”
“No,” Peyton said, “You’re not. At least, not the original one.”
“Then who is?”
“You know her,” Peyton said, “You’ve watched her die. Twice.”
Byron felt his mind explode. Of course. That was how Veronica was able to survive. She had the ability of Resurrection; she couldn’t die. “Then she’s out there,” Byron said, “Veronica’s still alive!”
Peyton was silent, smiling at Byron. “She might be,” Peyton said, “We don’t know how long it takes her to come back to life. We’ve sent a team out to look for her, though; we might be able to bring her here.”
“Will I get to see her?” Byron said.
Peyton almost smiled with delight. This was exactly what he wanted to hear. Peyton realized, with a shock, that his thoughts sounded like the words of President Xandar.
“Maybe,” said Peyton, “You will, yes, but I have a few specific conditions.”
Byron was quiet. He knew exactly was going on; he was being controlled. He allowed himself to be, though, for the time being, at least.
“Go on,” Byron said.
Peyton made a gesture towards the door. It opened, and a strange figure walked in. It was very obviously a woman, but a mutated woman. She stood very tall, tall enough to look Byron in the eye with all three of her pupils, even though he was suspended on the wall.
“This is Project Zero,” Peyton said, “She is my finest creation. We used leftovers from Project Leon to give her all of the Unnatural abilities combined. She possesses Pyrokinesis, Ferrokinesis, Hydrokinesis, and Absorption. She can teleport, see the future, shapeshift, and she cannot die. She obeys my orders without a second thought, and is a silent killer. She was how we were able to track you down and capture you without killing all of you. She was able to fight fire with fire, you could say. We had to wipe her memory in order to give her these powers, and there were some other side effects, as you can see, but, in general, I would say that Project Zero was a success.”
“So what do you want from me?” Byron said nervously, intimidated by the immense form of Project Zero, “Do you want my DNA? The stuff my mother used to give me telepathy? You want her to have it?”
“No,” Peyton said, “I do not wish for Project Zero to possess your abilities. What I want is your cooperation. There has been a group of…rebels who, if our sources are correct, will be striking a soft spot in Sector Five soon. We believe they may be aligned with the Leonics in some way. They seem to possess similar powers to yours, so they are, obviously, too powerful for us to handle by ourselves.”
“So you want us to go in and fight them off,” Byron said, “Why not just use some of that paralyzing serum that you used on Phoebe?”
“These Unnatural are not a product of Project Leon,” Peyton said, “We don’t know if they have a similar origin or not. Our technology is based on Project Leon, so, if they were the result of a different Project, it most likely wouldn’t work. To test it would mean the cost of many lives. It would be easier just to send your team in and fight them.”
“And risk our lives.”
“Your lives are harder to destroy.”
“How does Project Zero come in to this?”
“Zero will act as your supervisor, your commander. She will not partake directly in combat unless you are failing miserably, and she will relay orders from me to you. If any of you step out of line, or act in any significant way against Sector Zero’s authority, she will be authorized to put a stop to you.”
“You’re assuming she could.”
“She could, believe me,” Peyton said, smirking, “It’s what she was created to do. You are dismissed, Project Zero.” Zero nodded, turned, and walked out of the door, her movements stiff and mechanical. Peyton began to follow her, but was stopped by Byron’s voice.
“And what happens if I refuse to agree?”
“Then I guess you won’t see Veronica again,” Peyton said before exiting the room and leaving Byron in complete darkness again.
Chapter Twenty
The Final Battle Begins
Mark awoke, gasping in air. How long had he been asleep? It felt like decades. He was standing upright in a large room. He was part of a circle that seven other people stood in as well. It took Mark a second to figure out who they were, but he eventually recognized them as the other Unnatural. He didn’t recognize them at first because they were dressed in strange, unfamiliar uniforms. They all had tight, form-fitting body suits made out of some sort of flexible metal. Byron had a helmet that fit around his head but not his face. A visor extended down over his eyes like a glass shield. A wire stuck out of the back of his helmet but hugged his back and went into his back in various places. Phoebe wore metal gloves with wires curling around them, running up her arms in the back of a helmet similar to Byron’s. Gabe didn’t have anything on him, at first glance, but the material on his hands and feet seemed to be made out of different material than the rest. Stephen had two small barrels, each big enough for a bullet to fit in, on each arm. Kaytlen wore a large backpack with tubes that snaked around her arms and into her wrists. Kyle had the armor, but, at first glance, nothing else. Mark saw, though, that when he turned his head, a glint of metal shining on the side of his head, interrupting the mass of sloppily-attended to red hair. Mark saw another girl, the one who he assumed to be Sector One’s Unnatural. What had Byron called her? Ashley? Instead of the armor being arranged in rows, it was arranged in a hexagonal pattern over her body.
Mark looked down at his own body and saw tubes running down his arms, much like Kaytlen’s, that connected to a backpack.
In the center of the room was Peyton Burton, standing next to Project Zero.
“Where are we?” Mark said.
“On a plane heading to Sector Five,” Peyton said, “The other Unnatural have begun their strike.”
Mark vaguely remembered having another conversation with Peyton that involved Byron making the decision to go along with Peyton’s plan against some kind of new Unnatural. Nobody objected, so Mark assumed that Peyton had had the conversation with the others, also.
“If you’ve taken any time to consider anything at all,” Peyton said, “You’ll see that you’re not dressed in your familiar clothes. While you were asleep, we were able to create Bodysuits that enhance your abilities. For instance, Mark, you will no longer need a lighter to create fire, simply press your thumb against your palm to be given a spark. In addition, your Bodysuit is fireproof, not that you needed that, anyways. They are each specially made to complement and enhance your abilities in every way we could see possible. Each of your Bodysuits can be commanded to harden at any moment, making it nearly impenetrable.”
“So you hunted us, imprisoned us, hurt us, even killed us, and now you want us to fight for you?” Kaytlen said, a statement, not so much a question, which she’d wanted Peyton to hear since he had spoken with her in the Secret Service Headquarters. For a moment, Peyton was silent, considering the question. Or, at least, he seemed to be; he knew the answer to the question already.
“Yes,” Peyton said.
“And why should we fight for you?”
“Because there will be severe consequences if you do not,” Peyton said, “Isn’t that correct Byron?” Byron seemed to ignore the question and remain composed, as if it didn’t offend or shock him.
“Wait,” said Mark, “Byron, what does he mean?”
“Oh, he hasn’t told you?” Peyton said in mock surprise, “I should leave that to him.”
“I did nothing,” Byron said, his voice level and his composure unchanged.
“I’m sure that’s the truth,” Peyton said. Mark couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, “You all know
what we’re here to do, correct?” Mark nodded, as did the Unnatural. Peyton had spoken with each one of them individually over the past…how long had it been, exactly?
“One more question,” Mark said, “How long have we been asleep?” He knew that Peyton had had them drugged into sleeping, but he didn’t know for how long.
“Three weeks,” Peyton said.
Mark was shocked. Three whole weeks? He’d been asleep that whole time? What had they done to him while he was asleep? He hadn’t had any dreams while he was sleeping? That was odd.
“This is no time to talk, though,” Peyton said, “We’re nearing the drop point. As you know, Sector Five supplies the Sectors with electricity, allowing communication to be possible. This is very important, so try not to damage anything seriously. As soon as you walk out of this plane, your abilities will be reactivated, and you will have full control over them. However, remember that Project Zero will be watching you, so follow my orders and report back to me as soon as possible.”
The plane shook as it landed on the ground. Mark could hear sounds of battle outside. A hatch opened on the far side of the cabin, and the Unnatural walked out and into battle.
Mark was almost blinded by the sudden sunlight. He’d been in complete darkness for three weeks. He blinked a few times and was able to see a little bit of what was going on. He saw tanks wheeling their way towards the center of the Sector. He saw helicopters setting down, soldiers pouring their way out of them in numbers Mark would’ve thought impossible had he not been on the inside of a helicopter before. He saw civilians running, screaming, towards their homes, some soldiers making a little effort to control them towards safety unsuccessfully. Mark turned around when the plane lifted off and saw something that nearly put him into another coma.
Caleb Watkins.
With wings coming out of his back.
Stephen teleported into the fray, not entirely sure of what was going on. But he knew what he was supposed to do, so he went. Suddenly, he felt the ground open up beneath him somehow. He fell, but teleported back onto the ground. He looked around. He saw another man standing, his arms extended towards the ground. Stephen teleported himself away before another hole would have opened underneath him. Suddenly, he felt someone grab him, then a pressure on his lips, as well as a familiar taste. All of a sudden, someone appeared in front of him.