Force: Book Two of the Zoya Chronicles

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Force: Book Two of the Zoya Chronicles Page 5

by Kate Sander


  Isaac heard laughing and someone banged back on the other side. They both jumped back as the sound reverberated around the container, hurting their ears.

  “Shut up!” a man yelled at them in a thick accent. Isaac could hear the men laughing and joking on the other side.

  “They must have known we were coming,” Isaac said. Kelly sat down again and rubbed her hand through her hair. She tilted her head back again and looked at him, hurt in her eyes. He noticed that her face was white and she was still sweating. The container lurched upwards and Isaac wisely sat beside Kelly before he fell down.

  The container jerked as it was set down and Isaac could hear a truck starting. The container pitched forward and they bounced down a road. Isaac was scared, but he knew his dad would find him before anything bad happened to him.

  They sat in silence for a long time. Isaac started feeling uncomfortable so he said, “Kelly, when we get out of here you should come stay with us. I don’t have any siblings. I bet my parents would love to have you.”

  He looked over at her. She had her head against the wall but her face was white. She was sweating and shaking.

  “Kelly, are you ok?” he was getting worried. She looked sick, and he realized it must be more than the fear of flying.

  “I’m f-f-fine,” she stuttered. She wrapped her arms closer around herself. Isaac took off his jacket and gave it to her.

  “What’s going on?” he asked her.

  She wrapped the jacket around herself and leaned into him, putting her head on his shoulder. Isaac’s heart gave a lurch and he wrapped his arm around her.

  “It will pass in a couple days,” she said. “It will get bad, I’ve seen it happen to my friends. But then it will get better. Will you help me until it gets better?” she asked. Her voice was fading. She suddenly doubled over in pain.

  Isaac jumped up and started banging on the side of the container, “She’s sick!” he yelled over and over until his voice was raw.

  “Zac,” Kelly said weakly. She had vomited all over the container floor. Isaac stopped yelling and went over to her. He gathered her away from the puke so she didn’t get dirty. “Zac, I’m not going to die. I will be O.K. It will take a couple days but it will go away.”

  Isaac sniffled and wiped a tear, “How do you know?”

  “I just haven’t had my fix for a while. In a few days I’ll get better. Just stay with me for a few days.”

  Isaac fought the shock. He had never met anyone addicted to anything. He wanted to ask her to what but he bit his tongue. She didn’t need him prying into her life.

  “My parents will find us,” he reassured her. His hope was starting to fade. “And then you can stay with us and you can get better. It’ll be all better.”

  Kelly let him ramble, she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Isaac held her until the bumping stopped. He realized that she had fallen asleep.

  The container was unloaded again and the wall away from them was opened. The light hurt his eyes after the dull yellow lamp. He shielded his face and Kelly stirred beside him. His eyes took a long time to adjust. Once they did, he noticed two large men standing in view of the open door. They had crew-cuts and were wearing black cargo pants and black t-shirts, showing large muscular arms. Isaac noticed guns on each of their hips. Another man, a tall and skinny man in a blue suit and slicked back hair was standing in between them. He was holding a tablet in front of him.

  “Two, one male one female,” he said, ticking something off on his tablet. He had a thick French accent. He walked into the container and, wrinkling his nose, said, “Who vomited? Smells like shit in here.”

  Isaac rose, leaving Kelly sitting on the ground looking up at them.

  “She’s sick,” Isaac said, pointing at her. “This is your fault, you need to fix it.”

  “What’s your name?” the man said, looking Isaac up and down for a very long time. The predatory look in his eyes made Isaac uncomfortable.

  “Isaac,” he replied, jutting out his chin.

  “Isaac,” the French man said. “Well, Isaac, my name is François. I am in charge of this little operation. My employer has sent you here and my job is to keep you alive. There are no rules on how alive I need to keep you. Is that understood?”

  Isaac kept his chin out. When François tried to get past him to get to Kelly he stepped sideways to block his way. “Don’t touch us!” Isaac yelled.

  François smiled at him and back-handed him across the face. Isaac was surprised by the blow and didn’t get his hands up to block. His skinny form fell heavily onto the ground, just inches from Kelly’s vomit. His face stung and there was blood leaking from his mouth. He was too shocked to move, no one had ever hit him before. François yelled something and Isaac was pulled to his feet and was halfdragged half walked out of the container.

  “Kelly!” he yelled, trying to turn his head to see where she was. They were in a large garage with military trucks and other men dressed the same milling about. No one looked up or was even surprised that a fifteen year-old was being forced through the garage against his will. Isaac struggled but the man was too strong. He dragged Isaac through the garage and to a back door. It opened and Isaac was greeted with what looked like an old prison. It was carved out of stone and there were doors made of old steel bars. Isaac looked through the bars and saw children of all ages, two to a cell, looking at him with sad eyes. Some looked sick and unhealthy, others had blackened eyes and broken teeth. Isaac stopped struggling and stared at them. The children stared back. The only thing in common was the fear in all of their eyes.

  The man tossed Isaac into one of the cells. Kelly was tossed in shortly after. Isaac made a run at the door and the man slammed it in his face. François came to the door, “Now,” he said, “you would do best not to talk to any of the others. My guards don’t like noise. This may or may not be your final destination. I’m not sure.”

  Isaac was breathing heavily, anger running through him. “Where have you taken us?” he asked.

  François smiled at him, showing a row of perfect teeth, “I won’t tell you that. Just be encouraged by the thought that you will never ever see your family again. I specialize in pairing children with buyers. I suppose you can figure out what that means.”

  Isaac blanched. “You’re not selling us. You’re not touching us.”

  François’ eyes darkened. “An annoyance of mine,” he said, leaning closer to the bars, “is being told what to do by a snivelling little rat like yourself.”

  Isaac spat in his face.

  François straightened. Carefully and deliberately he pulled a handkerchief out of the top pocket of his jacket and wiped his face. He looked Isaac in the eyes and Isaac took a step back. There was an evil there he had never encountered before. François snapped his fingers twice and the two large men returned, jogging.

  “Her,” he said, pointing at Kelly’s huddled body.

  “No!” Isaac yelled.

  The men rushed in and Isaac tried to fight. One punched him in the face again and he dropped to the concrete as pain exploded. One man put a knee into his back, keeping him pinned against the ground. Isaac struggled as the cold concrete pushed against his face. He was having trouble breathing, the weight of the man’s knee pushing into his chest.

  “I’ll go, just stop hitting him,” Kelly said softly. She stood shakily, wiping the sweat off her face.

  “No,” Isaac moaned as Kelly walked out the door. She didn’t look back. François took her by the hand and led her away. The guard holding him down released him. Isaac had a head rush as oxygen returned to his brain. He stayed on the ground, gasping for air. The two guards locked the door and followed Kelly and François.

  Isaac paced the cell for a long time. Guilt was rising. He didn’t know what they were going to do to her. He didn’t know what to think. He had made terrible mistakes.

  Kelly was led back to the cell later. He felt relief when he saw her followed by intense guilt. A guard was supporting her an
d she was limping slowly, head down, her hair over her face. The guard opened the door and she collapsed inside the cell.

  Isaac ran to her and collapsed on the ground beside her. He gathered her into his arms. “I’m so so sorry,” he muttered into her ear. “What did they do to you? I’m so sorry Kelly.”

  She looked up at him. Her face looked the same, there was no damage and Isaac was relieved. But her eyes made his stomach boil. They were dark and dead.

  “Don’t worry about it Zac,” she said weakly. “Nothing I haven’t handled before.” She leaned into him and closed her eyes, “I just need to sleep. It will be better in the morning.”

  Isaac wrapped her closer and cried quietly into her hair. He had a crushing feeling that his parents would never find them.

  6

  Dr. Charlie Penner

  October 19, 2023, 15:48

  Location: Dorfen, Germany.

  She watched the white lab rat run around its enclosure and sighed. The rat was oblivious to the chemical compound she had just added to its water. It scurried around its cage acting as natural as it had this morning.

  Charlie sighed and looked at her watch. It had been a full ten minutes with no results. She marked it down on her tablet and returned to her station, sitting heavily in the plush work chair. She had access to all the resources she needed, no limit on budget and the best equipment that money could buy but she still couldn’t get results.

  She stared at her reflection in the darkened screen of her computer. She had long, flowing red hair that was pulled meticulously back into a bun. A pale face highlighted the bags under her eyes, despite the makeup she had applied that morning. She sighed and looked at her own bright green eyes. She was stressed and tired. She rubbed her neck and put her tablet onto the dock at her desk, instantly transferring all the data to her computer and the onsite servers. She moved the mouse and turned on the screen of her computer. She absent-mindedly rubbed the empty spot on her left ring finger where her wedding ring used to sit.

  The 3D rendering of the molecule she designed popped up on the screen. It was a cross between ketamine and gamma-Hydrobutyric acid. She had, in a last ditch effort, thrown a GHB molecule onto a Ketamine and tried it out. Clearly it hadn’t worked. She needed to figure this out. She took the stylus out of the top left pocket in her crisp white lab coat. She missed paper sometimes.

  She was thirty-two and had grown up with technology. She was a doctor in biochemistry with a smattering of other minors and specializations. All lending themselves to her expertise. She took the stylus out and started to rotate the 3D model on her screen. No result was worse than the molecule just killing the host. At least if it killed the rat it was proof the molecule was interacting with something in its body. She didn’t know where to start. She had been given this ridiculous task more than a year ago. She needed to produce results.

  “Dr. Penner!” she heard in a thick French accent from behind her. Her lab assistant, Luc, was staring at the cage of the white rat they had brought out for testing this morning.

  “Yes, Luc,” she replied harshly. She did not like to be interrupted.

  “You might want to come and look at this,” he said, not noticing her tone. Or he noticed and didn’t care. Charlie had a string of international assistants come through her doors. She usually never even bothered to learn their names, she was always so lost in her research. She knew Luc because he had stuck with her the longest, a full six months.

  Charlie heaved herself out of her chair and walked towards the cage in the center of the lab. Her mind was still with the molecule, rotating it, manipulating it. She stopped beside Luc, her tall six-foot form (taller in her bright red heels) making him look small in comparison. He was staring at the cage. She followed his eyes and saw the white rat in the middle of the cage. It was having a seizure, foam and vomit coming from its mouth.

  Charlie sprang into action. “Luc! Stop standing there, get the EEG set up immediately.”

  Luc moved quickly, moving a large white machine to the cage. It was a portable, wireless electroencephalogram. It read the brainwaves of any animal that was in its beam.

  “You!” she yelled at a timid assistant staring glassy-eyed into a microscope. “Stop that, get the video camera and record this. Now!” the glassy-eyed assistant looked terrified at being singled out, but to her credit scrambled to get the video camera ready.

  Luc had the EEG machine set up. Charlie went and watched the screen. There was a feed of the regular Alpha, Beta, Theta and Delta waves across the screen. They were showing what would be expected in a seizure. Charlie also had the feed set to capture Infra-Low waves as well, the least studied but most useful of the five. Especially for what she was researching.

  Her eyes focused on the screen and on the waves. The rat stopped seizing and the waves went flat-line. Instant disappointment rushed into her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” Luc said dryly. He was standing beside her watching the screen and the rat in the cage. It was dead. The glassy-eyed assistant kept the camera pointed at the dead rat.

  Charlie didn’t say anything. She refused to acknowledge Luc. Her mind was racing. It was back to square one. She kept watching the flat waves go across the screen, mocking her failure.

  A huge wave appeared in all five wavelengths. It was completely different from the normal pattern of any type of consciousness. The waves danced and weaved across the screen, no pattern detectable. It lasted approximately five seconds before they began to fade to flat-line.

  “Putain de merde,” she heard Luc whisper beside her.

  She couldn’t help but smile and repeat in English, “Holy shit.” Shaking off her disbelief, she said to him, “Bring up the EEG we have on file for Z207.”

  They moved to her station. Charlie sat down in her chair, Luc and the other assistant joined her. Charlie turned on her station, lighting up the five large computer screens mounted on the wall. Charlie brought up the recorded pattern for the dead rat on the left. Luc brought up the file she had asked for on the right screen. The EEG danced and weaved in the exact same pattern that the rat had shown, all five waves moving in a weird cross between jagged edges and flowing waves.

  Charlie couldn’t help but smile. “Now Z209.”

  Luc replaced the current EEG with a new one. The same pattern twirled on the screen. The rat’s EEG was shorter than the others but it showed the exact same characteristics. One that was rarely seen.

  “I did it!” Charlie exclaimed in disbelief, sitting heavily in her plush chair. She couldn’t stop staring at the computer screens.

  She heard a slow clap coming from the door of her laboratory. Charlie winced and turned slowly, staring her boss, Alejandra Jimenez, in the face. She was dressed in a tailored suit, blue heels with her loose brown hair falling around her mocha pointed face. She walked towards them, heels clicking sharply on the ground.

  “Congratulations!” Alejandra said, voice singing in her Columbian accent. She clapped Charlie on the shoulder and bent down to join them looking at the screens.

  “Yes,” Alejandra said with a smile, digging her nails painfully into Charlie’s shoulder, “I do believe you have done it.”

  “Well, we need much more research to make sure…”

  “Our employer will be most pleased,” Alejandra continued. She was leaning so close that Charlie could smell her perfume. It was floral, but there was a dark sweet undertone that Charlie couldn’t place. Both Alejandra and her perfume always made Charlie excessively uncomfortable.

  “We need months more to research this! It could just be luck,” Charlie rambled.

  Alejandra turned slowly and deliberately to stare at Charlie’s face, “I will take care of further research. I do believe you’ve earned the afternoon off.” Charlie started to interject. Alejandra held up one finger, stopping her before she could get any words out. “No! I will not have my best scientist staying at work after a discovery like this. You will go and take the afternoon. I insist.”

  Char
lie heard the venomous tone and her heart dropped. “Yes ma’am,” she conceded, lowering her eyes.

  “Good!” Alejandra said, straightening. “Luc will finish off cleaning and packaging the research for the servers. I do believe they are serving steak this afternoon for our evening meal.” She turned and walked away, finishing with, “I will ensure it’s up to your impeccable standards. Luc, make sure our dear Doctor doesn’t work too hard.” Alejandra left the lab through the clean room.

  Charlie let out a shudder that she’d been holding in. She reached for the stylus and Luc grabbed her hand roughly, “No!” he said, wrenching her hand away from the computer so hard that it would bruise. Charlie’s face flashed burning anger and hate.

  “Ms. Jimenez said no more work for you today,” Luc said.

  Charlie pulled her hand away, “I’m signing my research. I always sign my research.”

  Luc stared for a long time. Charlie matched his gaze, anger boiling. Luc eventually just shrugged and stepped back from the computer.

  She leaned forward and put her classic signature from her Bachelor’s degree on the molecule: C.B.Penn.

  Luc looked at her quizzically, “Used to be my nickname in University. I sign everything with that until I publish. Old habits.” She smiled at him. She quickly copied the file to the server.

  “Go to supper. I will finish this up,” Luc said flatly.

  Charlie obliged and left her lab through the clean room. She stripped and pulled on her sweats and a clean t-shirt. She didn’t care about the cameras in the room, she’d done this every day for the last year. Sometimes you became immune to being self-conscious. She used her key card to get out of her laboratory, nodding to the guards standing armed at either side of the door.

  “Jergen, Kurt,” she said. They both nodded towards her and then stared straight ahead.

  She used her key card to get out of the hallway and went to the gym. Her key card only worked on less than a quarter of the compound. She wasn’t allowed access to anywhere her employer didn’t want her to be. She had time for a run before dinner and she definitely needed to take her mind off things. She ran hard on the treadmill, trying to relieve herself of the stress of the day. She showed no emotion on her face. She knew the entire compound, both inside and out, was recorded by cameras. She finished, puffing, and went to have a shower.

 

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