Reviving Olivia (Project DEEP Book 7)

by Becca Jameson

  “You’ve been in a coma.” It was the easiest first thing to tell her.

  Her gaze jerked to his again. “Why?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted, cringing. “It’s a long story.”

  She tugged at his heartstrings unexpectedly. Her long thick brown hair was fanned out on the pillow from her effort to lift her head. But what really got to him was her eyes. A clear green that held his attention. So wide.

  She nodded slowly. “It would seem I’ve got some time. I can’t even lift my head. Start talking.”

  He swallowed. “You’ll only be able to stay awake a few minutes this first time. Next time you wake up, you’ll be more lucid.”

  “My mind is perfectly clear now, and I’m not tired. How long was I in a coma?”

  “A month.” It wasn’t a lie.

  She gasped. “I’ve been asleep a month?”

  He cringed inwardly, already knowing she was going to freak the fuck out. “How about you tell me what you last remember?” If he turned the tables so that she was the one doing the talking, it might help buy him time until she grew too tired to stay awake. Though she showed no signs of being weary.

  She scrunched up her eyes as if to think. It was cute. He got the feeling her face would often look like that when she concentrated.

  Why the hell are you thinking she’s cute?

  “I’m a nurse. I work in a government bunker.” She opened her eyes abruptly again. “I’m Dr. Boyden’s nurse. Where is he?” She glanced around again. “Where am I?” she repeated.

  “You’re in a studio apartment. Dr. Boyden is still at the bunker.” That was true, though Damon was digging a deeper hole for himself by the moment with all his half-truths.

  “Why? Why am I not at the bunker or in a hospital?”

  “Long story,” he said for the second time. Why didn’t she go back to sleep so he could have a few hours to figure out what to say? Or fuck, why hadn’t he planned this better?

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “I’m starting to think you’ve kidnapped me.”

  Damon smiled. “Hardly. You’ve been very boring for the last month. In my memoir, I’ll recommend that no one ever kidnap a coma patient. They aren’t very entertaining.”

  She narrowed her gaze again. “Are you seriously trying to be funny right now?”

  “Yeah?” Apparently it wasn’t a good choice however.

  “Dr. Bardsley, is it?”

  “Yes. But you should call me Damon. We’re sort of stuck here together. I’d rather be on a first name basis.”

  “Fine. Damon. Please fill in a few holes before I start screaming for help.”

  He straightened to his full height. That was the worst thing she could do. Finally, he shook his head. “Please don’t scream. We’re on the fourth floor of a poorly constructed apartment building. The last thing we need is for someone to call the police.”

  “Then I suggest you start talking.” She pushed herself back a few inches with her hands, impressing him again with her strength. He’d assumed she would need the same kind of recuperation time as everyone else, but he hadn’t factored in that she hadn’t been sick when she was preserved. She hadn’t been in any sort of weakened state, nor had she required drugs during the last month to cure her of any disease. She was glaring at him now, her lips parting, reminding him she had threatened to scream.

  He covered her mouth as gently as he could manage. “We’re hiding. And you’re going to have to trust me because you don’t have any other options right now. Something happened in that bunker, and I’m hoping you know more than I do because I have very few details to go on.”

  She licked her lips as he removed his hand slowly, watching her closely.

  Then he continued, opting to give her a broader picture of their predicament in order to keep her from freaking out. “There’s another government bunker in Colorado, larger than the one you worked at. Were you aware of that?”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t know anything. Our bunker is like a fortress. Everything is a secret. I don’t have the clearance to do anything except care for Dr. Boyden, and that man isn’t going to live much longer. I’m surprised he lasted a month if that’s how long I’ve been in a coma.”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  She glanced at the ceiling. “I’m not sure. It’s foggy. As if it were a long time ago. Maybe I have some sort of temporary amnesia or something? Is that possible?”

  “Yes. But probably you’ll start to piece it together in the next few days.” He prayed that would be the case. “Anyway, the important thing for you to understand right now is that everyone who worked in those two bunkers is in danger.”

  “Why?”

  “No one is sure yet, but a team of people is working on it. Meanwhile, you and I need to lie low and keep from being found.” He had no idea if Blue Cell was interested in him, in particular. He hadn’t been on the original team. He hadn’t been one of the preserved.

  But Olivia… There was no way to be sure Blue Cell wasn’t after her. Damon had no idea how she fit in to the puzzle, or if her reanimation would be something Blue Cell cared about.

  “You can’t just hold me hostage in this apartment, Damon. Your story is hard to process.”

  “I know, but please give me a chance. I promise you I have no ulterior motives.” He held out both hands. “I want out of here far worse than you do. I’ve been here alone for a month.” He rubbed his face. He hadn’t shaved often in that month and not for several days this time.

  “Who is after us?” she asked wearily.

  “A subversive government organization called Blue Cell.” There was no reason she shouldn’t be as informed as possible. One way or another, she was in this with him now. “We don’t know what they want or why they’re hunting us down, but they have a lot of manpower, and staying one step ahead of them is a full-time job.”

  She gasped again. “Has anyone been killed?”

  “Not yet. Not from either of our bunkers, at least.”

  Finally her shoulders relaxed. “You better not be bullshitting me, Damon Bardsley. I may be small, but I’ve taken self-defense classes. I can take you,” she threatened.

  It was impossible not to grin at her declaration. Did she not realize she wouldn’t be able to take on a toddler at this point? “Yes, ma’am,” he responded. “There is a lot I still need to tell you, but please trust me when I say you need to absorb this a bit at a time. You’re going to be confused and forgetful for a few days.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “I really don’t feel confused.”

  “I can see that, and it’s disconcerting. But, Olivia—” Before he could utter another syllable, something happened. Something that freaked Damon the fuck out.

  Olivia’s face completely changed, slackening so that her features relaxed far too much. And her eyes glazed over before they began to focus on something across the room instead of Damon. But that wasn’t the weirdest part. What she said and the unusual tone of her voice made him feel like he’d stepped onto the set of Poltergeist. “Samara.” The pitch was nothing like she’d used so far. Deep, like a man’s.

  “Olivia?”

  She sank deeper into the strange trance. “Samara. Samara. Samara.”

  He hadn’t read anything in her file about anyone named Samara, or even anyone at all in her life. “Who is Samara?”

  Instead of answering him, her eyes rolled back into her head and then closed. She continued to mumble the name as she fell into a deep sleep. “Samara, Samara, Samara…”

  Damon took a step back, rubbing his arms as she slumped into complete sleep. She even looked peaceful.

  Damon stared at her for a long time, afraid she might bolt to sitting, and her head might spin around backward. It was that nerve-wracking.

  Finally, he backed up, slowly, quietly, not wanting to disturb her. When he reached the coffee table, he snagged his burner phone off the surface and dialed one of two numbers he knew by heart.
>
  Dade answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” Damon said.

  “How’s it going? Is she awake?”

  “She was.” How the hell could he possibly explain what had just happened? “And then something very strange happened and she got all crazy on me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, she’s not like anyone else I’ve watched come out of their coma. She’s far stronger and more lucid than any of you were. Probably because she wasn’t sick then, and she’s not sick now.”

  “Makes sense. I just assumed ten years in a cryostat made us all rather weak.”

  “Me too.”

  “But she went back to sleep eventually?”

  “Yes, but not before turning into some sort of alien.” Damon ran a hand through his hair, inching toward the far wall while he kept his gaze on Olivia. She hadn’t moved a single muscle since she fell back asleep. Still, he shuddered, not trusting her. It wouldn’t shock him if she rose off the bed and floated across the room at the moment.

  “Damon? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not sure.” Had he imagined it? “One moment she was completely coherent and talking to me. The next moment she was in a kind of trance.” He jerked taller, an idea coming to him. “Maybe she was preserved for something mental, instead of a physical disease.”

  That idea did not sit well with him. Damon had no experience with mental health at all. If Olivia had been vitrified for some psychological diagnosis, he would never be able to handle things on his own.

  “I guess it’s possible. Tell me what she said.”

  Damon pursed his lips, trying to recall the name she kept repeating. “She started mumbling some girl’s name over and over again. Does the name Samara ring a bell to you?”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Dade started rambling off a string of numbers in a voice that sounded nothing like his own, a voice eerily similar to the one Oliva had used to repeatedly say Samara. “Eight, four, nine, six, two, eight, three, three.”

  “What? Are you talking to someone else?” Damon shuddered.

  Silence. And then again. “Eight, four, nine, six, two, eight, three, three.”

  Damon stumbled backward. If it hadn’t been for the wall behind him, he would have fallen on his ass at his shock. Dade had definitely just muttered those strings of numbers in the exact same weird tone Olivia had used.

  There was a shuffling noise, and then a female voice came on the phone. Blair. Dade’s girlfriend. “What’s he talking about? What are all the numbers?” Blair asked.

  “I have no idea.” Damon could hear Dade still muttering the string of numbers. “One second we were talking, the next second he started that.” Just like Olivia had done…

  “I’m freaking out,” Blair shouted. “Hang on a second…” Her voice faded, and she must have dropped the phone on the floor or another hard surface. Damon could hear the clatter.

  She was gone at least a half a minute before he heard her voice again. “What the fuck is going on? He mumbled those damn numbers over and over until he sat on the edge of the bed and then dropped to his side and fell asleep.”

  Ice raced through Damon’s blood.

  Just like Olivia.

  “It’s like he was hypnotized,” Blair continued.

  That got Damon’s attention. “Yes,” he blurted. “That’s it.” Please God. That had to be it.

  “Great.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. “From what? What did you say to him?”

  “The same thing just happened to Olivia. It’s why I called. I have no idea what I last said to her to trigger her reaction, but I do know what I said to Dade.”

  “What was it?”

  “You sure you want me to repeat it? It seems unsafe. It’s a girl’s name. I’ve never heard it before. I mean, I guess it’s a girl’s name. I assume.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Are you alone?” He glanced at Olivia. She hadn’t moved an inch. How long would she be like that? If Dade was out like that for any length of time, the last thing Damon wanted was for it to happen to Blair also. He didn’t even have any way to contact someone else in the SURVIVE house for help. She could hurt herself. “How about you get someone else to be with you and then sit down somewhere?”

  “Okay. This is crazy. But okay. Hang on.”

  It was way past crazy, but at least Damon had the sense to have her go get someone else before he repeated the word to Blair. Then again, it didn’t affect Damon. Hell, it hadn’t been what affected Olivia either. In fact, he was pretty sure the last thing he’d said to her was her own name. Olivia.

  Maybe that wasn’t her name at all. Maybe it was Samara.

  Suddenly, Blair was back on the line. She was breathless as she spoke. “Okay, I’ve got Michelle with me.”

  “Good.” He liked that choice. Michelle was Zeke’s woman, and she hadn’t been preserved. Neither had Damon. Maybe that was a factor. Who the fuck knew? “Okay, sit down, please, just in case. Did you tell Michelle what happened?”

  “Yes. She’s leaning over Dade now. He’s out cold. It’s scaring me.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, yes. I think I do. Go for it. I’m sitting on the couch.”

  “Okay…” He took a breath. If Blair went all hypnotic on him, he would seriously pass out. “Samara.”

  “Samara,” she repeated. “Samara.”

  “Yes. That’s it.” And she hadn’t fainted. Thank God.

  “That’s not a girl’s name, it’s a city in Russia. It’s also a fruit. Key.”

  “Key? What do you mean?”

  “The fruit. It’s also called key.”

  Damon frowned. “Why the hell do you know that? I’ve never heard of any of those definitions. I’ve never heard the word samara.”

  She sighed. “I was an enlisted woman in the army for ten years. I trained myself to retain all sorts of details. It helped me stay one step ahead of the men surrounding me. In fact, that very quality helped land me the job at the Colorado bunker where I met Dade. I’m filled with useless information.”

  “Not so useless today.”

  Chapter 2

  Olivia heard the soft moaning a moment before she realized it was coming from her. She blinked herself awake and then shrieked.

  A man’s face was inches away from hers, in her bed. Again.

  The man bolted awake at her scream. His gaze landed on hers, and then he scrambled to sitting. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I must have scared you to death,” he said as he stared down at her. He reached for her slowly and settled a hand on her shoulder. “How the hell did you manage to roll to your side?”

  Her memory flooded back, but it didn’t help matters. What she remembered was that she was in a strange apartment with a strange man under stranger circumstances. And she’d been in a coma.

  “Why wouldn’t I be able to roll to my side?” She asked the first thing that came to her mind as her heart stopped racing. Damon. Dr. Bardsley. At least she remembered his name.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to have the strength.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “I was in a coma, not dead. Do you have no experience with coma patients?” What kind of doctor was he? He hadn’t said. For all she knew he was a doctor of religion. Or ancient Mesopotamia. He hadn’t said he was a medical doctor.

  A smile formed on his face. “Trust me, I have a lot of experience with coma patients, and none of them have recovered as fast as you.”

  She had no idea what he was referring to, but she decided to point out her own experience. “Well, I’ll have you know that before I took this job with Dr. Boyden, I worked in the county hospital in the terminal wing. I’ve seen a few patients come out of a coma myself.” She stopped herself and pursed her lips as she rolled to her back and watched Damon slide from the bed and round to her side.

  “How about a drink of water? You have to be thirsty.” He reached over her, grabbed the two pillows he’d been using,
and then gently tucked his hand under her neck to prop her up.

  It was difficult to be afraid of him because he gave no signal that he had ill intentions. Her hand was shaking as she lifted it to wrap it around the cup. She was thirsty. Very thirsty. Luckily, Damon didn’t release the cup. In fact, he kept one hand tucked under her neck too. Without those two things, she wasn’t sure she could have quite managed.

  Okay, so maybe I’m not 100 percent.

  “You didn’t tell me why I was in a coma,” she pointed out as he set the cup down on the bedside table and released her.

  “Yeah, you didn’t give me a chance. In fact, you had some sort of hypnotic episode and then fell asleep. Do you remember that?”

  She frowned as she shook her head. “No.” But the idea made her nervous. “What did I do?”

  “I said your name, and you started muttering a word over and over again, and then you passed out cold.”

  “My name?”

  “Yeah, let’s not test it again right now. I nearly had a heart attack. For the time being, I’m going to call you Livvy.”

  She cringed. “I hate that nickname.” Though it sounded kinda nice the way he said it.

  He smirked. “Well, it’s better than having you freak out on me again.”

  “That sounds absurd. Maybe it was a coincidence. Try it again.”

  “Sure. Later. Not right now. I haven’t recovered from the first time.” He glanced at the bed next to her. “Sorry I scared you. I promise I didn’t sleep in this bed with you often.” He nodded toward the couch. “Usually I took the sofa. But I’ve been exhausted, and since you were no longer hooked up to tubes and wires, I wasn’t as afraid I might dislodge something.”

  She watched him closely as he spoke. He’d taken her care very seriously. Though it was unsettling that he’d slept next to her, even occasionally.

  He glanced down and continued, softer. “Honestly, you scared the hell out of me this morning. I didn’t want to leave you alone, and I didn’t know how long you might sleep, but I needed to catch up on some Z’s myself.”

  “It’s okay,” she murmured, though she had no idea why she felt the need to soothe him.