Modified- The Complete Manipulated Series

by Harper North

  “On my count.”

  My pistol is up. We’re coming for you, Drape.

  “Three… two… one…”

  All four of us leap from our hiding place and fire. I’m a terrible shot, it turns out. I’ve only fired a blaster, and that was just once. I shoot off three rounds before I actually hit one of the operatives, but I do manage to take one out. Watching him fall is not as hard as I thought it would be. Today has dulled any empathy I had for the EHC.

  Jase hits two guys, Elias one, and Todd takes out the last one. I am thankful Mason sent more experienced shooters with us. I make a quick mental note that this is a skill I certainly intend to master.

  “That shooting is bound to attract new operatives,” Todd says, urging us onward. Jase leads the way to the end of the hall. Large metallic double doors stand between us and the medical bay. Using a keycard, Jase lets us in. It’s a big, long room with rows of beds on either side. Drape's lying with his lids shut in one of the beds on the far side of the space. Hunched over him are three medical personnel, eyes wide as saucers. I hold up my gun.

  “Run or you die,” I hiss at them, pointing my weapon their way. They all dart out a back doorway in terror.

  I race to Drape’s bed and rip at leather restraints tying him there. “Drape,” I whisper, and his eyes open.

  “Fin,” he moans in pain.

  “Easy. You’re going to be all right. We’re getting you out of here.”

  Jase and Todd get to work undoing the remaining straps. “You two,” Jase calls to Elias and me, “guard the doors.”

  Elias walks to the double doors we entered. I head to the doorway where the medical personnel bolted. It’s here I spot a monitor along the wall, already logged in. I take a moment to snoop. A digital file labeled EHC RESTRICTION PROTOCOLS stands out to me. There’s a holodrive sitting on the cramped desk by the monitor, so I snatch it up and raise it to the display. I glance out the door I’m supposed to be guarding, and since I don’t perceive movement, I download some files. I press the button on the side of the device, and holographic images appear above the drive as it downloads the files I select from the system. I’m not picky, downloading anything that causes me to raise an eyebrow.

  “All right, kid, can you get up?” Jase asks as he and Todd help Drape to his feet.

  “Yes… I think I can walk. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to run,” he says.

  I smile. He’s alive, that’s what’s important, and we have plenty of time to get back to Mason.

  “Ops!” Elias warns, raising his blaster. “There’s a whole slew of them coming down the hallway toward our location!”

  “Go out the back way!” Jase bellows.

  Elias and I flank Drape as we rush out the door I had been guarding. A single operative races at us from this direction, but Elias guns him down with the blaster.

  A round of gunfire erupts from the double doors. “Todd!” Jase shouts.

  Todd falls in a pool of his own blood just as Jase closes our exit and types in a code on the door to lock the oncoming operatives in the medical bay. Jase deflates as he glances down at his dead companion, but he doesn’t waste time mourning now.

  “Let’s go,” he says, stepping past us and avoiding the operative Elias had knocked out. He leads us down a series of hallways, and soon we’re darting to the hanger. The craft is already started up, and most of Mason’s men are rushing inside the open back hatch. Mason greets us just outside of the craft.

  “Todd?” Mason asks.

  “He didn’t make it,” Jase says, his voice full of remorse.

  Mason places a hand on the man’s shoulder and tells him to get to the ship. He then gestures at us and guides us into the massive vessel. “Get inside. There’s someone who wants to see you three.”

  Elias and I drag Drape into the hanger. The flying craft is close to ten times the size of the small hover car. I walk from Drape, who’s leaning on Elias, and force myself up the ramp. Lacy, Sky, and Cia slouch in the row of seats lining one of the walls. They don’t see me, but Cia is awake.

  Finally.

  New found energy rises in my body and I hurry to her, kneeling as I get there.

  “Cia?”

  She smiles at me. “Hi, Finley… I’m feeling a lot better now.”

  CHAPTER 17

  I grip the side of the ship as it jolts a bit. The back hatch is still open. Armed fighters lean against the rear walls ready to fire at anything that tries to stop us. One of Mason’s men shoots down a few who made it within range. He leans his head to the side and speaks into the comm he has on his neck. “Give Mason the all clear!”

  Almost immediately the ship lifts from the ground, the back hatch closing. Lacy grabs me to stay herself from falling over, and while she’s so near, I snatch her weapon. I don’t really want her armed at the moment. Surprisingly, she doesn’t even respond. It’s apparently more important to keep holding onto me to stay upright.

  “You good, Lacy?”

  She smiles. “Are you kidding? We’re all alive, you moron. Thanks mostly to you.”

  That’s my old Lacy. Or a glimpse of what she used to be like before the mod.

  Elias stands across from us just as the ship jolts. Lacy grips me tighter and I snatch for a support beam on the interior of the ship.

  “What’s that?” I demand. “Are we taking fire?”

  “Most likely, my uncle’s taking out all of the ships in the hanger so they can’t follow.” Elias tips his head to Lacy. “You should get to the cargo hold to have her head checked. Probably see if a medic can stitch up your cheek, too.” Not that he’s in any better shape than either of us.

  “You should, too,” I say.

  “I will. I need to talk to Mason first. Thank him for saving us and all.” He smirks. “When you’re done, meet me in the cockpit with that holodrive you snatched from the med bay.”

  “You saw that?” I ask.

  “Yeah, and I’m sure my uncle would appreciate it.”

  I grin. “I’m sure he would. Meet you there in ten.”

  One of Mason’s soldiers, dressed in an operative uniform, leads me to the cargo hold as I help Lacy limp beside me. Drape sits by Cia as a handful of men and one woman prick and prod at them to gauge their health. Sky waits nearby, a smile on his lips that is so full of love and adoration for his sister that it’s infectious. My lips form into a grin. I can’t believe we made it out.

  “We have another patient for you,” I announce, dropping Lacy off to sit by Drape. In a flash, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I was worried I might not see you again. How are you doing?”

  “Better now.” Drape grins and I snap back from him. He clears his throat. “They pulled the bullet from me, and they patched up my wound pretty well, so I suppose it could have been a lot worse for me.” He looks over at Sky and sighs. “Let’s face it, Fin, of anyone to have gotten shot, it’s a good thing it had been me. If they had drug me off and beat up on me like they did Elias and Sky… I’m not strong as them. I would have told them anything they wanted to know.”

  “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Lacy says.

  “Did you just compliment me?” Drape asks. “You all right, Lacy?”

  She ruffles his matted hair. “I’m just glad you’re all right, dope.”

  “I heard them talking. They were going to use me for experiments,” Drape says. “They planned to see if they could reverse the effects of the mod kit. To un-modify me. I would have died from radiation.”

  “They’re a long ways away from figuring that out,” one of the doctors assured him.

  Cia nudges Drape. “Be glad. Radiation poisoning wasn’t fun.” Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me. “Thank you.”

  “So the mod kit worked on you just in time then, huh?” I ask.

  “It did,” Sky replies for her. “Thank you, Fin. All of you. She’s alive because of all of you.”

  The medic inspects Lacy’s head injury when she stiffens in her seat.
“Hey… what class of modification did you get, Cia?” she asks.

  Cia tilts her head. “Class?”

  “She just wants to know if you feel any different,” Sky explains. “Are you stronger than you were? Smarter?”

  Cia ponders for a moment. “No. I just feel like me… but my tummy hurts a little.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” one of the male medics says. “You’re probably just experiencing the effects of the radiation poisoning. We’ll get you back to yourself real soon.”

  The female medic eyes me and shakes her head. “You should be checked, too. I can stitch that up fairly quickly, if you’d like?” She points to my face and I instinctively reach up and touch my cheek. A small pool of blood forms in my palm. A part of me wishes I had shot that idiot who smacked me with our pistol.

  “If you don’t mind,” I say.

  She offers me topical numbing medicine, explaining it will require several minutes to kick in before she can start stitching me up.

  “No, just go ahead and stitch me up. I’m in a hurry.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks, narrowing her gaze on me.

  “Just work quickly, please.”

  She cleans and sanitizes my cheek, and then she works on the stitching. The sting of the needle makes me grit my teeth, but I’ve had my fair share of stitches. Mining will do that to you. No one down there ever offered me numbing medication though, so between that and my modification, suffering through these stitches is a breeze.

  “There, only a few stitches,” the medic says as she mists something on the wound. “This will keep it clean for now.”

  The unfamiliar kindness in her tone—or maybe it’s just something about not having blood oozing out of an open wound—perks me up a bit.

  “Thanks,” I say, touching my fingertips to the wound. The mist has hardened slightly on my skin.

  I wave to my friends and head to the cockpit. I enter the small, semi-circle of a room. There are three men and two women seated toward the front of the craft, working simultaneously on displays and controls. I assume one of them is the captain, but I’m not sure about the rest. Mason stands with Elias and a group of three men. Mason’s attention is entirely on his nephew, and he places a hand on his shoulder, giving Elias a smile.

  A pang wells in my chest as I watch the two of them. Just like Sky and Cia, they at least know someone in their family. Before the last twenty-four hours, I’d rarely thought about where I came from. Who are my parents? Would they even know me if they saw me? What if I have brothers or sisters?

  I wave off the questions. This was never important to me, so why should it be now? I have Lacy and Drape. They’re my family.

  “Fin?”

  Elias snaps me from my thoughts.

  “Looking good,” Mason says to me with a wink. “I see they stitched you up nicely. How are your friends holding up?”

  “Well,” I say. “They’re being taken care of, thanks to you, Mason.”

  “I’m glad we got there before anything worse happened. Elias here’s trying to give me a heart attack, telling me what a close call you all had,” Mason says, nudging his nephew.

  “Who are all these people?” I ask Mason while scanning the cabin.

  He pauses, glancing at Elias. Elias nods at him and Mason turns his attention back to me. “I’m more than just a stubborn Noble class citizen looking out for defectors. I used to be an EHC operative. I’ve made many loyal friends on the inside.”

  I step back. “What? I mean, I figured you had connections, but I didn’t think you were an op.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t do it anymore. The people I hurt… the oppression… it was just too much.” Mason’s expression tenses a bit, as if he’s reliving his past in his mind. “I made those connections when I was an operative. That network helped me start this resistance.”

  “How did you get away from being an EHC op?” I ask. “Getting out of that club can’t be easy.”

  The tension in his face breaks at my stupid joke. “No, that club is normally a lifetime commitment. Elias’ father was a personnel coordinator for the EHC. He helped me reassign my identity.”

  “Reassign your identity?” I echo.

  “Every EHC citizen has a Society Placement Profile based on your lineage and class. Elias’s father re-wrote mine. I was able to slip out of the system, eventually ending up at the Tenant class settlement. From there, I was able to build this resistance. It was tricky at times, but each one of the former EHC personnel that fight with me was heavily vetted.”

  “So you have embedded people at the base they took you to?” I ask. “Is that how you broke free?”

  Elias rests a hand on Mason’s shoulder, answering for him. “Let’s just say my uncle’s personality and influence is contagious.”

  “Maybe so, but you kids put everything into motion.” Mason grabs my wrist. “We weren’t ready for this. Once I was taken, our allies had to leave their posts and regroup at one of our safe locations. We’re really scattered right now, and need to regroup.”

  I nod and gently drag my hand away. He doesn’t seem to notice my discomfort. I do trust him, but I have to consider my friends first. His rebellion is his problem.

  “Enough about me, Elias says you got information from the medical wing back at the compound?”

  “Yes,” I say, fumbling for the holodrive in my pocket. “I noticed they had restrictive files pulled up before the medical personnel panicked and took off.”

  “Well, let’s have a look.” Mason snags the device. “You never know. We didn’t manage to infiltrate the medical wing, so you might have intel we don’t have here.”

  He leads us to the right side of the small room with a large, half-circle desk. The equipment on this workstation far surpasses anything I’ve seen below ground. There are more displays and controls than I would know what to do with. He presses the holodrive into a slot and several images appear, floating above the desk.

  “EHC Restriction Protocols?” Mason reaches out toward the holographic image again, selecting the file. The words The Natural Modification Epidemic followed by a tremendous amount of data appears.

  “Natural Modification Epidemic?” I ask under my breath.

  It’s a lot of science mumbo-jumbo that, while I have been modified to a Noble, I’m still not familiar with. Mason runs his hands through his hair and pauses for a moment.

  “If this is true, the dwellers are naturally adapting,” he exclaims in awe.

  “Is that possible?” Elias questions. “And modifying into what?”

  “A resistant species. To resist the radiation and the new climate. They’re doing naturally what we people living on the surface use science to overcome.” Mason’s tone is practically giddy. “This is remarkable. Let’s see…” He flips through additional information within the file, skimming faster than I can keep up with. “From what I’m seeing here, they believe in another generation or two the entire dweller population will be completely resistant. Unbelievable. Apparently all the tinkering they do in the Oven system to build better workers has hastened the process. Playing God has backfired.”

  “So… is it possible some of us already are genetically compatible?” I ask.

  “According to this, yes,” Mason exclaims. “They’re covering it up to maintain their work force.”

  He flicks his wrist into the hologram to continue sorting through the file. A picture of the Oven—or one of the Ovens—pops up, and my stomach roils. I have to move back from the display. Before now, it hasn’t bothered me much, but it’s not exactly a place that holds fond memories. Knowing what I know now, I realize that it taught me how to be a good slave to the EHC. It even bred me to be the “best” I can be. My hatred for this system compels me to walk away, but the words Preventative Methods pulls me back in.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  Mason frowns. “They’re trying to prevent the natural modification,” he says, swiping at the documents. “Let me see here… just a sec…”


  His lips silently echo his reading as he skims the data. A few minutes of silence are broken when he leans back from the holo-display.

  “What is it?” Elias asks.

  “They’re testing fetuses at the orphanage system and destroying the ones that show evidence of these genetic markers.”

  “How are they even doing that?” I ask.

  Mason leans in, reading. “Looks like they administer a specific medication under the guise of prenatal vitamins. It causes a miscarriage within a week.”

  Heat rises up the back of my neck. It makes sense. It’s not like they’re going to say, Sorry, but your fetus is a threat, so it’s got to go.

  Elias grabs at a paragraph in the holographic data field and it brightens. “What are ‘inactive genetic markers’?”

  “That would be fetuses that carry the genetic mutation to allow them to survive on the surface, but it’s recessive. I imagine if you hit one of them with a mod kit…” Mason pauses and stares directly at me.

  It clicks for me before he can piece together his meaning. “That’s what happened to me,” I say. “I carried the DNA to resist the radiation naturally, so shooting myself with the mod kit just amplified what I had. I was already resistant?”

  “Recessively,” Mason says. “You still would have fried up and withered like an un-watered shrub.”

  “Dwellers are on their way to becoming naturally equal with the EHC,” I say, eye wide.

  “That’s right,” Mason agrees. “And the EHC leaders don’t want anyone finding out.” Mason detaches the holodrive, and the holograms disappear. “Excellent work, soldier,” he says to me.

  “So what now?” I ask. “What’s the point of having all the undercovers you had working at the operative base?” I jerk my thumb to one of the three men standing near us—the one wearing an operative uniform. The man smirks proudly.

  “My uncle can’t control where they get stationed, Fin,” Elias says. “We’re lucky a few were there.”

  “Like I said, we were months from making any sort of advance,” Mason adds. “But you and your friends… modified our plans.” He smiles at his dumb joke.