The Pandora Project (12 page)

By this time he is examining the car from the driver’s side
, “How ‘bout,” he hesitates for just a second, “You take the back seat with your head this way,” he points to his side of the car, “and I’ll recline the passenger seat as far as it will go and take it. Sound good?”

“I don’t know about good, but probably as good as we can expect,” I
say, already making my way to the back seat. John waits until I am all set up before getting in and pushing the passenger seat back.

“Is that going to bother you?” he asks when the seat is practically lying on my legs.

“No, but if I jerk in my sleep, it isn’t personal,” I assure him.

He laughs and situates himself.
When he lies back and the seat lightly presses into my leg with the added weight, I realize I am about to spend the night with the only boy I have ever found even slightly attractive. My heart rate accelerates and I try to control my breathing. In the dark I can barely make out his silhouette but it is enough to bring back that desire to curl his hair around my finger.

As if sensing my staring, he turns to me, “Paige, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I reply, hoping my voice doesn’t betray any of the strange desires I am feeling.

“Have you ever touched anyone?
You know, with your bare hands, since you have been old enough to remember?” He reaches back and lightly holds my right hand.

My heart races a little faster.
“Of course not,” I reply, fighting the urge to draw my hand away. “We have been hiding my whole life, I would never do anything to draw attention to myself like that. Besides, before we understood what I am, there were some pretty bad situations that I don’t ever want to repeat.”
Please don’t ask
, I mentally beg.

“Will you
activate me?” he whispers.

I have been waiting all night for him to ask and I am kind of impressed he has waited this long.
In so many ways I want to share my ability with him. I want to be able touch a person other than my parents with my bare hands, and I want that person to be John. I want to know if Dr. Cox has created a superior race just waiting to be unleashed. I am very curious what he will become.

But there are more reasons I don’t ever want to spark whatever is in him.
Even though he has my life in his hands, I am still not sure I can trust him. He could very easily be a part of the Pandora Project; lulling me into a sense of security and getting me to use my power on him. I am afraid of what I will do to him. The hole in the wall of my bathroom is still a very fresh memory that I haven’t even begun to understand. And while my parents have very successfully learned to live with their powers, not everyone has been so lucky.

“I can’t.”
I whisper back. “Not yet.”

“I understand.”
He gives my hand a squeeze and rolls onto his back.

We both know he could easily overpower me and rip my gloves off.
His understanding makes me want to trust him even more, and worse, it makes me like him even more. I don’t know how many of his breaths I count before I finally fall to sleep.

*****

The pain in my lower back and legs from being scrunched in the back seat is almost more than I can bear when I wake up. My legs involuntarily spasm and the movement wakes John abruptly. A giggle escapes at the look of horror and confusion on his face as he jerks to a sitting position.

“Oops, I wa
rned you,” I say between laughs and try to maneuver out of the back seat.

It takes him a couple of seconds to remember where he is, when he does, he opens the door and moves out of my way.
Stretching my legs and back, I head immediately out into the forest to take care of business. I have to walk quite a bit farther since the early morning light makes it much easier to see through the trees.

When I return, John has granola bars and water bottles pulled out for breakfast.
“Ready to go?” he asks, heading for the front of the car.

“How long will it take us to get there?” I can’t imagine sleeping in the car too many more nights.

“Cold Spring is about 25 hours from Painted Rock.
We got four hours under our belts last night so only about 21 more to go!” I don’t know where he gets his enthusiasm from, but I know I can’t handle twenty-one more hours without a shower and a real toilet. I already have that musty smell you get from waking up outside.

He nods at me to get in the car, “We’ll go fifteen hours today and get there early afternoon tomorrow.
Sound good?”

No, fifteen hours in a car with someone I barely know, running for my life with only the hope of meeting up with my parents
does not sound particularly good to me. “Great!” I reply, my voice heavy with sarcasm. “Can we sacrifice an hour today to get a shower?”

He looks me over, appraising my appearance.
I can’t be sure but I think his eyes linger an inappropriately long time on certain parts of my body. “You look great.”

“Sure, sure, have you smelled me yet this morning?” I ask, crossing my arms a little embarrassed by the compliment.

He smiles, but I can tell by his eyes that he is seriously considering the dangers of stopping somewhere to shower. “Paige, it has only been one day. I’m only asking for one more. What if I promise to breathe through my mouth?”

I can’t help but laugh, “Fine.
Won’t we need gas soon?”

“Not too soon, your dad somehow had this car fit with two gas tanks, we should be able to go another 400 miles before we need gas.”
He ducks in to the car so I do the same.

“He really did think of everything, didn’t he?”
I am in awe of my father.

“So far
. Let’s hope our luck holds.” John carefully maneuvers us out of the trees and back on the highway. I give him some peace while he goes through the motions of looking for a tail and settling in to drive. Fifteen hours, alone in a car, with the only boy who has ever made my stomach turn circles. Great, I can do this.

Chapter
12

The rage that fills Dr. Andrew Cox is evident only in the set of his mouth and the cold, dead look in his eyes. Tiring of looking at the objects of his anger, he turns to study the fake diplomas on the wall. Trevor Madison did a good job hiding himself and his family in this horrid little town. Not that it would be hard to fool the locals, nothing but farmers and tradesmen. There is not one aspect of Painted Rock, Nebraska that would draw a doctor of his considerable talents.

Which of course is the genius behind the location.
“Well done, Trevor,” Cox says, refusing to look at the other people in the room. “Or do you prefer Jackson these days? Seventeen years...quite a feat when you consider who was looking for you.” The calculated way he refuses to look at anyone else establishes his dominance while simultaneously showing his disdain for his inferiors. “Seventeen years, and you were only minutes too late to get away.”

“Where are they?
” he asks, finally turning and looking down at the two people on their knees in the center of the room.

Silence.

“You know I will get my answer one way or another, Trevor. Why not make it easier on yourself and your lovely wife?”

Silence.

Cox raises his head to the man issuing a silent command. Colonel Mays moves forward. Cox enjoys the discomfort of the Colonel. Serves him right; how dare he question Cox on any matter concerning the Pandora Project. Since he was so interested in finding the Sullivan boy, Cox decided to let him play an intimate role.

Colonel Mays
strikes the woman once; a hard blow across the cheekbone that leaves a long ragged gash, blood running down and dripping off her chin. Cox admires her strength when she recovers enough to kneel proudly before him. The strong ones are more fun to break. “Heal her,” Cox demands.

Jackson
Mills reaches over and places his hand on his wife’s face. While the blood remains, when he removes his hand, her face is unmarred, perfect. Jackson’s brow furrows when he makes eye contact with Cox. He knows what is in store and the knowledge is already eating away at his soul.

Without being prompted, Colonel Mays delivers another brutal blow, the power behind it enough to throw Anne against the couch.

Cox’s eyes light as he relishes the moment. This might even be worth the wait.

Chapter 13

When the world comes crashing down around all of us, I am sure I will look back on this morning and feel nothing but supreme guilt for enjoying myself so completely.
The blame lies squarely on John’s shoulders. He makes me feel
normal
. He knows what I am; just that is different from anyone I’ve known before. But John knows what I am and he still wants to be with me. After the seriousness of last night, we have spent all morning getting to know each other.

We’ve discussed our favorites (favorite food, color, song, movie, TV show, memory
, you name it.) Stopped for gas at a questionable gas station and it would have been nicer to be back in the woods for the restroom, but John felt it was a pretty safe bet. Ate a snack (my favorite trail mix, thanks again Dad!) and just acted like two normal teenagers. But every time I see my gloves I’m reminded: I’m not normal, and neither is he.

“Tell me about this
‘slightly above average’ business,” I say with a sigh and look out the window, knowing I am letting go of our carefree morning.

He takes a while to answer so I look at him expectantly, he gets better looking every time I do.
“Don’t be modest, now is not the time. I really want to know.” Still he doesn’t say anything. “The truth.”

“Truthfully?
I’m pretty incredible,” he says it so straight faced I have to laugh. When I do he also breaks out a smile and my heart melts a little more. It’s not fair to fall in love, I don’t deserve it, but he is making it really hard not to.

“
What makes you incredible?” Other than how you make me feel?

“High IQ, not genius level, but pretty high.
I’m stronger than I look, can run at a full sprint for miles and all sports come to me very easily. I rarely get sick or hurt and even when I do, I recover faster than most people.”

He lists everything so casually I am not sure he is serious.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, my eyes bulging.

“Nope.”

“I would say that is pretty super human already, why do you need me? Why does Dr. Cox need me? It seems he can have his little super army without me!” And no one needs to suffer the same fate as my grandmother…or my bathroom sink.

“No one would argue that what he has done is
n’t incredible, at least they wouldn’t if he shared his little experiments with the world. The problem is that we aren’t exceptional enough. Not yet. Everything I am and can do, people who have not been genetically altered can also do. Maybe not all of it, and maybe not as naturally, but they can. That is not enough for Dr. Cox

“It isn’t enough…” his voice trails off and he hits the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

“It isn’t enough for you?” I ask, knowing that is what was left unsaid.

“Not like you think,” he hesitates, not having the right words to let me know what he feels. “It is enough for me, more than enough, but I don’t feel…right.” He shakes his head, not liking the word, “Not right, I don’t feel complete. That’s not it either.” He shakes his head in frustration again and my heart goes out to him.

“I feel anxious, all the time.
Anxious that I am not living up to my potential, but it isn’t in my head, it is throughout my entire body. I’m not explaining it right.” Again, he hits the steering wheel. I don’t know what to say or do, but I am starting to get anxious as well, I do know what he is talking about, I feel it too.

“Have you ever been really riled up for something, a race or a big game or a fight?” he is talking faster, trying to express how he feels.
I just nod my head, I don’t want to interrupt his momentum. “Then you know that feeling when the adrenaline is rushing through your veins and you can’t wait to get started, you know that the rush of the action will exhilarate you, will propel you and will exhaust you.”

Again, I just nod my head.
“That is how I feel all the time. I am waiting for the start of something big, but it never comes.” He takes a deep breath trying to relax.

“I don’t believe you,” I say, “you always look so po
ised, so calm. It’s almost unnatural for a teenager. There is no way you can feel that way all the time.”

“It’s true.
My parents had me on so many drugs as a kid, trying to help me get it under control, but nothing worked. As I got older I used some of my superior intellect,” he winks at me, “and superior physical attributes to get it under control. I am constantly working to not let it show.”

“And you think if I ‘activate’ you, it will all go away?”

“I don’t know what I think. I know Dr. Cox thinks you are the key…you are his Pandora and I am your box. But what will you release?”