EVO Nation: EVO Nation Series: Book One (science fiction/ urban fantasy)

by K. J. Chapman

  TORO 21 is joined by another TORO and they both pin me down. They hold my head still as Roscoe places a VIDI helmet over my face. Everything goes a bit quieter inside the helmet, but I still register the clunk from the door opening. I force my head to the side to see where the noise came from. Yvette runs in followed by Adam.

  Holding a syringe in the air, she pants, “I’ve got the immobiliser. I’ve also brought TORO 61. Perhaps a familiar TORO may be a better way to calm her and start the process than the ones who were part of the experiment yesterday.”

  Experiment; is that what it’s being called? I could think of more fitting words- torture, nightmare- torment.

  Roscoe sucks his teeth and looks to me still thrashing on the bed. “Yes, agreed. TORO 61 come here and take over from TORO 21,” he says, spitting a mouthful of blood on to the floor.

  Adam marches over and takes my arms from TORO 21. He pins me down. I want to scream at him to help me, but his face is blank. Could Yvette have manipulated him again? I don’t trust her enough to be able to answer that thought with any certainty. If he just looks me in the eyes I will be able to tell if it is Adam or TORO 61. Please look at me.

  Yvette fumbles with a cannula and slips it into the top of my hand. The needle stings, making me flinch as it goes in rough. Adam’s arms tense against me, and a gentle stroking along my ribs sends a calming wave of emotion over me. Adam slowly moves his hand between my arm and body. I exhale hard, stifling a cry of relief in my throat.

  A cold sensation runs into my vein and the clear liquid, the immobiliser, empties into the cannula. My lip trembles and I squeeze my eyes shut waiting for whatever is about to happen as soon as the liquid takes effect.

  “This is an enhanced anaesthetic that will render the EVO paralysed, but not unconscious,” Yvette says to Towley, then looks back at me with a deep, imploring stare. “Once this has taken affect we can inject the Command 4.2. It is a military grade drug that makes the user open to suggestion.”

  Adam’s hand continues to brush against my side. I shouldn’t be able to still feel his touch, should I? I wiggle a baby finger slightly and it moves. What has she injected me with?

  Dr Simmons takes my hand in hers. “EVO 6, I want you to move your fingers.”

  Her grip is tight and leaves little room for movement, but I manage a small wiggle. She squeezes my hand tighter, and I wiggle my fingers once again.

  “Good,” she says, looking at me. “She is immobile.”

  I know that look. It’s a ‘just trust me and go with it’ look. It’s the same look that Dad gave me at the cove. I lie still and concentrate on my own breathing.

  Roscoe produces another syringe of yellow liquid from inside his briefcase. Handing it to Yvette, he smirks in my direction. She holds it for a moment, flicks it a couple of times, and then slowly removes the plug from my cannula. Adam’s hand has stopped moving and his breaths are shorter, faster.

  “Sometime before Christmas, Yvette,” says Roscoe.

  Her hands shake as she attaches the syringe to the cannula. I take a deep breath and await the cold to spread through my hand. Her thumb hovers over the plunger, and then a sudden blackness falls over us. I’m not sure if she has injected the drug or not. Am I asleep?

  There is a sharp pain as the cannula is ripped from my hand. The restraints are removed from my wrists and feet, and Roscoe is shouting at the TORO like a mad man. I seize the chance to roll off the bed onto the padded floor, winding myself in the process. Two gunshots sound out, and a body falls beside me. I can’t look for fear of seeing Adam.

  Torch lights illuminate the room. Yvette fights with Roscoe for his tablet. Towley grabs a gun from the dead TORO and aims it at her back. I rush him, tackling him down, and grabbing the gun, I smack the butt square into his face. He cries out, catching Roscoe’s attention. I smack him again, this time knocking him out cold. Roscoe’s mouth falls open, he surveys the TORO that litter the floor and his grip falters.

  “You traitor,” he spits at Yvette.

  The tablet flies away from them, landing at Adam’s feet. Adam towers over TORO 21 who lies motionless on the floor. He no longer wears his helmet and his lip is bloody. I wrench the helmet from my own head.

  “Get the tablet, TORO 61,” shouts Roscoe.

  Adam does as he is told and picks it up. He moves his finger over the screen, smiling to himself.

  “What do you think you are doing, TORO?” asks Roscoe, striding forward.

  “Uh oh, you didn’t sign out,” Adam says, laughing.

  I hear a beep and my collar snaps open. Pulling it from my neck, I launch it at Roscoe. He stops dead with a look of sheer terror in his eyes.

  “Looks like I’ve let the lioness out of her cage.” Adam throws me a wink, and my heart leaps into my throat. “I’ll be keeping this,” says Adam, waving the tablet at Roscoe, distracting him enough for Yvette to stick his neck with a syringe.

  “This one really is the immobiliser,” she says, as his body hits the floor.

  ***

  Yvette pulls out a small device similar to a taser gun and presses it against the door control panel. “It carries enough electrical charge to power the control panels,” she says.

  Adam pulls the door open and we run out into the black corridor. He hands me a torch. My hands shake, barely keeping a grasp on it. I follow the both of them up a stairwell until we emerge by the shower block.

  The thunder of TORO boots in the stairwell rumbles overhead. I turn the torch off, and flatten myself against the corridor wall. The footsteps carry on down to the next level, to the therapy suite. Adam pushes me on, and we race down one corridor and another until Yvette raises her hand to stop us.

  Ahead of us stand two TORO. I recognise them as Yana and Haydn’s TORO. They stand directly in front of two cell doors. Dr Simmons places her finger to her lips and steps into the hallway. Adam stands right behind me in the shadows, his chest rising and falling against my back.

  “What are you doing stood here?” she asks. “All TORO have been summoned to the therapy suite with immediate effect. That’s an order.”

  The TORO run down the corridor. Adam grips my arm, marching me forward just like he would if he was escorting me somewhere. The TORO don’t bat an eyelid, and once they round the corner, Yvette presses the device against the first control panel.

  Yana sits on the edge of her bed biting her nails. She squints through the torch light, and rushes out of the cell, wrapping her arms around me. “Thank god, you’re okay,” she says into my hair.

  Adam presses the tablet again. Yana’s collar beeps and clicks open. Yvette presses the device against Haydn’s door. Haydn almost falls out of the room. Yana grabs him and kisses him. His eyes dart across our faces, coming to rest on Adam.

  “This is Adam,” I say, but don’t offer any more explanation.

  “He’s your TORO,” Haydn whispers.

  “Was,” says Adam, pressing the tablet once again. Haydn’s collar beeps and falls open. “Not anymore.”

  Haydn takes it off and extends a hand to Adam. “Nice to meet you,” he says, glancing up and down the corridor. A film of sweat has formed on his forehead and it glistens in the torch light. “So, what now?”

  “We stick to the plan,” says Yvette, curtly. It is obvious she hasn’t any patience for Haydn after he questioned her last night.

  Haydn half runs half limps ahead of me with Yana pulling him on faster. Adam leads the way with Yvette, and I bring up the rear. Golding’s cell door is unmanned. Adam hands the tablet to Yvette and runs ahead to scout the corridor.

  Golding bursts out, gathering me up in his arms. “Thank god, you’re still you,” he says, kissing me all over my face. Adam eyeballs him, and Golding’s arms drop to his sides. “The dishy TORO? You must be the Adam that had Ted’s knicks in a twist last night. I knew she had the hots for you.”

  I could punch Golding, but at the same time I feel a rush at the possibility that Adam might be jealous. I forget that he doesn’t
know Golding the way I do, and I’m glad the lights are out to hide my reddening face.

  Adam’s jaw relaxes. “Yeah, I’m Adam. You’re Golding, right.” He slaps a hand on Golding’s back.

  Golding’s eyes skim my neck and he snaps around to look at Yana and Haydn. “Where are your collars?”

  “I can’t find the access file for your gloves.” Yvette flicks through the tablet, her face aglow from the screen light, chewing her lip in concentration.

  Golding groans. “Get these bloody things off of me.”

  “It’s going to have to wait. We’ve got to keep moving,” Adam says, starting off down the corridor towards my cell.

  I can remember the route from there – left, right, and right again. My cell door is open, but I don’t glance inside. I will not be going back in there no matter how this pans out, and that doesn’t scare me. It should, but it doesn’t.

  Haydn falls behind, his face screwed up in pain. Yana is struggling to pull him along, so I slip his other arm around my neck. The size of us compared to him makes it difficult. His weight compresses my shoulders, but he is moving faster and that’s all that matters. We drag Haydn on, trying to keep up with the others, but they’re sprinting ahead. They take the left ahead of us and we follow them around the corner, however, the corridor is empty.

  “I don’t think they realise we’ve fallen behind,” says Yana, panting.

  Haydn looks at her apologetically.

  “Just keep moving,” I say, wheezing. “Take the next right.”

  A figure in grey runs around the corner- Adam. He raises his gun and I notice the helmet. Adam wasn’t wearing a helmet- it’s a TORO. I push Yana and Haydn aside as he fires at us. A burning agony tears through my upper arm. I feel a cry leave my lips and scold myself for it.

  The TORO rushes at us again. We may not have guns, but we have our own form of weapons. Raising my hand, I force a blast out of my palm and he soars backwards as if he has been hooked from behind. He travels the length of the corridor, smashes into the far wall, and crumples to the ground unconscious. Another moan leaves my throat.

  Yana lifts my sleeve, shining the torch at my arm. “You’ve been shot,” she cries.

  A jagged, fleshy hole oozes blood and seeing it almost makes it hurt more. Visions of Trina and Leon’s dead faces flash through my mind. “We’ve got to keep going,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. They both stare at me incredulously. “Do you want to wait for another TORO to come by?”

  We pull Haydn to his feet as torchlight stretches into the corridor from the right turn we need to make. Footsteps thunder toward us, and Haydn grips my shoulder a little too tightly.

  “Oh my god, what do we do?” says Yana.

  There is nowhere to run, not with Haydn barely able to walk. I hold out my hand again and wait. Haydn steps behind me, pulling Yana with him.

  Adam runs into the corridor. It is definitely him and I drop my hand in relief.

  “Thanks for waiting,” says Haydn, with a little too much sarcasm.

  Adam’s face turns cold. “Stop wimping over your sore knee and move your ass,” he says. Adam may not be a TORO anymore, but he is still a marine. He eyes the TORO lying on the floor and removes two guns from his body. “You two help Haydn,” he says, passing one gun to me.

  I want to scream at him that I have just been shot, but I want to get to the supply room more. I throw Haydn’s giant arm over my shoulders once again, and we follow Adam to the stairwell.

  I can’t catch my breath through the bursts of pain, and I have to slide out from Haydn’s arm. “I’m sorry, Haydn. I just can’t...” I gasp, and he nods, his eyes flitting to my arm.

  Adam leads the way, and I drop back to follow behind Yana and Haydn. The gun is heavy, but I keep an eye at the darkness over my shoulder. I hold it poised, even though the motion of carrying it sends shooting pains into my shoulder. This is the second time I’ve ever touched a gun. The first being when I smashed one into Towley’s face.

  Adam knocks on the door and Golding opens it. We spill into the room in a torrent of bodies. The trolley is gone, along with both corpses. The thought of what Roscoe might have done with them makes me feel sick. The same feeling I get when I think of Dad.

  I sit on a pile of laundry and try to catch my breath. Dizziness grips me and I have to fight off a fainting spell. My arm, slick with blood, is throbbing like hell. I listen to Yvette and Adam organising everyone for the lift. My name is mentioned and I say yes, but I’m not sure what I’m agreeing to.

  Turning the gun over in my fingers, it dawns on me how surreal this is. Just over a week ago the man who I thought was my Dad was alive, I had a mother who was a drunk, but I trusted her in some sense, and I thought I was the only person in the world with an ability. Now, I’m sat in the supply cupboard of a government compound, with a group of EVO, a bullet in my arm, and a gun on my lap, awaiting my turn in a dumb waiter to potentially meet my real father or my death.

  Adam’s hand brushes over my hair and he crouches in front of me, resting his hands on my knees just like he did in the shower room. “You’re quiet. What’s wrong?” he says. His voice is soft once again, and even though it’s dark where I sit, I can feel his eyes studying my face.

  “She’s been shot,” says Yana, through her sobs.

  His eyes grow wide. “Where?” he asks.

  I lift my arm slightly, and Golding positions the torch light on me. Blood covers the whole of my arm. Adam lifts my sleeve, wincing at the sight of the wound. I didn’t imagine it was pretty, but his face worries me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, sighing. He holds my hand lightly, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.

  “We didn’t have time.”

  “We still don’t have time,” says Yvette. She pulls a draw string out of a linen laundry bag and replaces Adam in front of me. “I need to tie a tourniquet above the entry wound. This is going to hurt,” she says, running the string under my arm.

  Adam gives my shoulder a squeeze and I pull him down closer to me. Yvette pulls the string tight and every part of my brain is consumed with pain. I cry out, burying my face into his chest, and he laces his fingers through my hair, holding my head against him until the pain is replaced with an intense throbbing.

  Pulling back slightly, he rests his hand on the side of my neck. “Any better?” he asks.

  “No, but I can do this,” I say.

  He smiles and lets his hand drop. “Good, because you need to be the strong one for the others,” he says.

  I instinctively look to Golding, Yana, and Haydn. They all look done in and terrified.

  Adam winks at me, before heading back to Yvette and lifting her into the dumbwaiter.

  She kicks off her shoes and curls into a ball. “You know what needs to be done,” she says to him.

  Golding sits beside me and nudges me with an elbow. “You’re hard-core,” he says, laughing. “Perhaps, that’s why the dishy TORO has the hots for you too.”

  A smile spreads across my face. “I doubt that,” I say. I doubt it, but the possibility makes my stomach fizz.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Adam shuts the door to the lift, and my attention snaps back to the task at hand. He pushes Yvette’s device against the control panel and presses the arrow button. It whirs into life filling the room with loud chugging sounds.

  “It’s too loud,” says Haydn.

  The sound alone could draw attention to us. My heart beats faster against my ribs. What is waiting for us upstairs? I have to admit that Yvette has got the biggest pair of balls for going first.

  The noise stops suddenly. Adam releases the upward arrow and brings the dumb waiter back down. He gestures for Yana to step forward. She kisses Haydn, and Adam helps her into the small space. Her willowy body fits in comfortably, but she sobs into her hands as the door closes.

  Golding goes next. He hands one of the torches to me. The light gives Adam an elongated shadow. As the door shuts, Golding flashes us a smile, b
ut he can’t fool me. The sweat patches under his arms and tremble in his hands betray his fear.

  Haydn sidles up to me, shaking his head. “How am I going to fit? I can’t bend my leg,” he says, his voice shaking.

  “You will have to bend your leg,” Adam states, not taking his attention off of the control panel.

  I agree, but I do feel sorry for Haydn. I squeeze his forearm, and he turns and hugs me. His arms could wrap around me twice over.

  “Maybe it’s best I don’t go. I’ll just hold you up,” he says.

  I push him away. “And what would I tell Yana?” I snap. “That you were too chicken shit?”

  He shrugs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears.

  The lift comes back down and Adam takes my hand.

  “Haydn’s going first, so I can make sure that he does,” I say.

  Adam’s hand tightens on my own and I stiffen against his touch. He is contemplating forcing me inside. I can see it in his face. A split second passes and he releases his grip on me, pulling Haydn forward.

  “I won’t fit,” he says, sliding his top half into the space, his voice choked with tears. Adam grabs his legs and Haydn cries out in pain.

  “I’ll make you fit. Sorry, mate, but it’s for your own good,” says Adam, bending Haydn’s knee and thrusting his legs in after him.

  I slam the door shut before Haydn can fight back, and Adam sends the lift up. We stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. I turn to face him, our bodies just inches apart. He smells of fresh sweat and his breath is hot against my face.

  “Thank you for doing that. Haydn’s a gentle giant. He just needs a kick up the ass.”

  “He wouldn’t have stayed,” he says. “He just wanted you to make him go. All three of them look up to you. I’ve seen it.”

  “They’ve been through a lot and just need a bit of looking after,” I smile.

  The lift starts coming back down, and Adam brushes a strand of hair off of my shoulder. I tremble.

  “And who’s going to look after you?” he whispers.

  “I think I’m getting pretty good at taking care of myself.”