Turning around, the doctor went and stood between her cot and the entrance. Keeping her eyes on the male, she pulled the gown up and cleaned her lower regions. The effort exhausted her more than she’d like to admit. Done with the task, she tossed the cloth back into the basin and cleared her throat.
“Finished?”
She cleared her throat again.
Doc glanced over his shoulder before turning completely around. He grabbed a basin and filled it with water. “We’ll get your hair later. Right now, you need to get some sleep.”
Her gaze darted to the entrance.
The doctor leaned closer. “Don’t worry about anything,” he whispered. “I’ll be sitting right over there.” He pointed at the desk. “When you wake up, I’ll bring you something with a bit more substance.”
He removed the extra pillows and blankets, and Ellyssa settled onto her back. Her eyes followed him to the desk. From the top drawer, he took out a worn hardcover book. Wondering what he was reading, she drifted into sleep.
Rein navigated the long tunnels, his thoughts lingering on the girl they’d saved. Deep down, he knew it’d been dangerous for him to bring her back here; the others had protested, especially after she’d attacked them, but he couldn’t leave her there to die. Her greyish skin, her eye sockets, dark and sunken, her knotted hair tangled into dirty clumps—he just couldn’t do it.
He knew, as soon as he’d seen her, there was something about her. Especially when her eyes popped open, the blue reminded him of parting clouds exposing the sky after a rain. Then, even in her condition, the ferocity of her attack. She was definitely special.
He paused just outside the main hall. Jordan was speaking with the others, delivering orders. The frail frame of the elder stood in the center of room. He beckoned with a thin finger to Terri, a young girl with pretty features. She helped him shuffle to the wooden bench. Grunting, the elder sat and watched as the community worked together, picking up the remaining supply boxes stacked against the wall and moving them into the kitchen and storage areas.
Rein joined him, and the old man’s full lips curled, deepening his wrinkles and exposing missing front teeth. Sweat beaded at the hair-line where his grey dreadlocks hung in clumps around his head, and his dark skin glowed under the fluorescent lights. He lifted a wrinkled hand and put it on Rein’s shoulder.
“How is our guest?” he mumbled, as if speech further tired him.
“She’s awake.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I’m not so sure I am.”
“Why?”
“I think I made a mistake. Her being here can expose us all.”
Jordan cackled. “You did right, bringing her here.”
“She’s not talking.”
“Great, not only is she using our limited resources, but she is refusing to give us information. That’s the reason you brought her here, wasn’t it, Rein?”
Rein swiveled around on the bench at the sound of Woody’s voice.
Woody toted a small wooden crate, filled with ammo, over to Jordan. His ash-blond hair was darkened by the sweat running from his hairline down the side of his face.
He stared pointedly at Rein before setting the crate down in front of their leader. “This is the last.”
Jordan pulled out a small box containing Remington SPC rounds. “Put the rest next to my pallet. I’ll distribute it later.” His black eyes rested on Rein as he handed him the ammo. “Tell our contact.”
“We’re scheduled to meet in a few days.”
“Good.” Jordan started to stand. Rein jumped up and helped the old man to his feet. “And don’t worry about the girl. I trust your judgment.”
Rein smiled, though he didn’t feel he deserved the compliment. If he was wrong, he had risked everyone’s life for nothing. The settlement founded after the Nazis had invaded would fall after all these years. He had known the chances, the possible danger, and he’d ignored the safety of the others because of a gut instinct. And, judging by the way Woody looked at him, his friend believed the same. His grey eyes flashed accusations every time he looked at Rein, like now.
“Would you stop it?” Rein asked, as he watched the old man walk away.
“Stop what?” Woody blinked innocently.
“You know what.”
Sighing, he held his hands up as if in surrender. “Look, Rein, we’ve been best friends since we were kids. I’m telling you she is dangerous.”
“I know. You keep reminding me.”
Rein left the hall, doubt tugging at every fiber of his being. Only this doubt came with fair skin framed with white hair and sky-blue eyes that bore holes into him.
12
Dr. George Hirch entered the experiment room with Leland at his side. Light reflected off the glass cubicles that divided the room, and bounced off the white-tiled floor. Several assistants were busy within the cubicles, where they sat at tables across from his creations.
Sensing his approach, platinum blond heads turned, and four sets of intelligent, azure eyes settled on the doctor as the door closed behind him with a snick. His children were beautiful, like angels—lean, muscular, flawless complexions, hair the color of purity.
George waved, indicating for them to continue with their lessons. All at once, as if connected by a string, they focused their attention back on the assistants.
“Come, Leland.” He paused at the first door, marked
Subject 64
, and watched Micah. The nineteen-year-old held out his hands and took a silver box. The doctor pushed the red button of the speaker located next to the door.
“What do you see, Micah?” asked the soft voice of the assistant. Dressed in the mandatory lab coat, the assistant leaned toward the young man. Long yellow locks flowed down her back.
Micah’s eyes were closed while he ran his fingers along the box. He turned it over in his hands and felt along the other side. “A female in a black dress. She is crying. Tears are falling down her face. She’s holding a picture of a male—her husband. She places the picture in this box with a wedding ring.” He handed it back to the assistant.
“Good, Micah. Now, what about this one?” She handed him a torn piece of material. Blood spotted the cloth.
“Is that—”
“Shh.” George held his hand up to Leland’s face.
Again, Micah closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb over the material. When he opened them, his expressionless gaze rested on George. “It belongs to Ellyssa,” he said, his voice monotone. “There is green—tall trees, plants, shrubbery. They are streaking by in a blur. She is cold. So very cold. And, she is hurt.” The boy’s face briefly twitched as if he could feel her pain.
“She is searching for something. Kansas City.” Micah’s gaze flicked back to George. “And she is muttering something about you.”
The boy’s strong jaw clenched and unclenched as his stare bored into the doctor. The tiny hairs on the back of George’s neck stood erect. He handed the material back to the woman. “Why is that,
der Vater
?”
George looked around the room. All eyes, including those of the assistants, were on him. He faced Micah. “I do not know.”
“Why would she run in the first place?” Micah asked.
“Until we find her, Micah, I am unable to perform the necessary tests for diagnosis.” Doctor Hirch opened the door and went over to Micah. “Can you tell me why she has chosen Kansas City?”
“Kansas City is not her destination any longer. She seems to be lost.”
“Where is she going?”
“
Der Vater
, you know I cannot see any farther than when the item was last with the owner.”
George placed his hand on Micah’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.”
“Continue with your lessons.” He closed the door behind him.
“What now?” Leland mumbled.
“We wait.”
Doctor Hirch went to the next cubicle marked
Subject 71
. Xaver stood at the back of the cubicle as a walnut-sized metal ball was launched at him. His rounded face was relaxed, nonchalant, as if bored. The ball stopped midair, as if it had hit an invisible barrier, and fell to the ground. Red digital numbers displayed 500 over smaller letters that read, “meters per second.”
“Truly remarkable,” whispered Leland.
“Yes,” said the doctor. “The next test will be with bullets.”
Leland shook his head. “He’s only fourteen.”
“Age is irrelevant.”
“But…what about his safety? The experiment as a whole?”
The doctor’s steely gaze settled on his assistant. “You are questioning me?”
“No, it’s just…” Leland stepped back.
“May I remind you, my authority is not to be challenged by the likes of you.”
“I understand,” Leland responded, dropping the doctor’s stare.
George watched him for a moment longer, then stepped past him, ignoring the empty cubicle marked
Subject 62
and stopping at
Subject 67
. Ahron stood with his back toward the wall. His thin, boyish frame was filling out nicely—baby fat had turned into chiseled features and a barrel chest. He was bigger and broader than Micah, even though he was three years younger.
His cubicle was set-up like Xaver’s. Instead of balls, disks with sharpened edges were projected at the boy at regular intervals. George glanced at Leland, who watched, transfixed, as the boy flickered, then solidified. A disk quivered, embedded halfway into the wall behind him.
“Bullets next for him, too?” He did a poor job hiding his contempt.
“I think it would be appropriate.”
Leland lifted a shoulder. “It just seems dangerous.”
“Any weaknesses must be dealt with now, not at a critical time. It is why I created them.”
He went to the very last cubicle. Aalexis—George’s pride and joy—sat at the table across from her trainer. Blocks of various shapes and sizes had been placed in a straight line. The young girl’s face displayed no emotion, but danger flashed in her eyes.
“Aalexis, just finish the training and then you may return to your room.”
“I said, ‘no’.”
“Why won’t you cooperate?” The nervous woman turned toward the doctor and shrugged.
Aalexis crossed her arms over her chest. “I told you, I am bored.”
“Stack the blocks and you may leave.”
“No,” she said, her voice flat. Her forehead bunched, and the trainer’s chair flew backward.
The woman toppled to the ground. Her scream cut short as her head bounced off the tile. The trainer didn’t move.
“Aalexis!” George’s stern tone hid the surprise. “You will stop.”
The young girl stood and faced her creator. “As you wish,
der Vater
.”
The doctor slid the door back. “Call the infirmary,” he said to Leland as he entered. His assistant closed his mouth and nodded.
“What are you doing?” he asked, before he realized his inappropriate reaction. Straightening his jacket, he buried his shock and composed himself, bringing to the forefront a calm demeanor for them to witness. He cleared his throat. “What are you doing?” he repeated.
“What I was trained to do,” the young girl said. Her voice held no fluctuation. Her arms remained defiantly locked across her chest.
“You were never trained to attack people without orders.”
“We were trained to respond to anger. I will not be subjected to any more tests.”
“Go to your room.”
“As you wish.” The thirteen-year-old passed two interns as she walked away without glancing back.
George knelt next to the unconscious woman and lifted an eyelid. Then he ran his fingers through her hair until he found the lump forming on the side of her head. “She has a minor head injury. Watch her for signs of a concussion.”
“Yes, sir,” the intern responded.
The interns placed the trainer on the gurney and wheeled her away.
After they left, George addressed his assistant. “I want a full personality profile done on Aalexis. Do not have her practice for the next few days.”
“What’s happening?” Leland asked.
“I am not sure.”
George scanned the other cubicles, but the rest of the children acted as if no altercation had happened just few feet away. Their young faces showed no sign of interest, as other children would have.
As expected, nothing fazed them.
13
“Hey. Are you awake?”
Doc’s whispery voice grabbed hold of Ellyssa and yanked her from sleep. The older man hovered directly above her. Next to him stood Rein. His green eyes narrowed as he leered at her.
Feeling trapped, she tried to jump up but, like before, vises held her into place. Not as easily, though. Rein’s face twisted in effort.
“Stop it, Rein.”
“She just tried to attack us.”
“No, we startled her.”
Rein released her and stepped back.
A reassuring smile graced the doctor’s lips. “It’s okay. I brought you something to drink.” Doc grabbed a glass from the tray. It was filled with watery orange liquid. “It’s your lucky day. Orange juice.” He helped prop her up and handed her the cool glass.
Ellyssa sipped while Doc removed the bandages. His eyes widened as his fingers ran over her wound. Only a small amount of discomfort accompanied the pressure.
“Hmm? It’s healing faster than I would’ve expected. The gash is already closing up without the aid of stitches. I don’t even think it’s going to scar.” Confusion crossed Doc’s face. “Does this hurt?” He applied more pressure.
Ellyssa brought the glass down. The pain was still there, but was not too bad. She shook her head.
“Can you feel it?”
She nodded.
“Is it at all uncomfortable?”
Shrugging one shoulder, the corner of her mouth twitched.
He pressed again. “A little bit?”
She nodded once.
“It’d be a lot easier if you would talk.”
She polished off her juice and held the glass out to him.
“Are you hungry?”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded with more enthusiasm.
“I’ll get you something.” He hesitated, looking at Rein.
“As long as she stays in the bed, I won’t touch her.”
Doc raised an eyebrow.
“I promise. Okay?”
The doctor walked toward the opening. Before he stepped out, he glanced back.