Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Three years ago, twenty-eight high school student from Highland Prep were declared dead in a devastating bus accident off highway eighteen. That same month, Eden Laboratories, which specialized in experimental sciences, made a press release detailing a breakthrough in an innovative form of transmutation. Twenty-eight empty coffins were buried, twenty-eight children mourned, and across the country one of the most extraordinary and significant scientific trials of all time was underway.
No one connected the dots. No one would. What could those two instances have in common? This was exactly the thing Eden Labs had banked on. And for us? For the survivors, this was the thing which sealed our fate.
My name is Charlotte Cruz and I am one of the twenty-eight. Today, like any other day, I wake in my cell to the sound of a horn, blaring over the audio system. Cupping my hands over my ears I scream for the noise to stop, but I know it won't until all my fellow prisoners are awake. There are only fourteen of us, now. Our numbers drop every day. To the laboratory workers, we are expendable… most lab rats are.
The pain in my head is intense, but I know if I don't move, they will set off the sirens next, and they are worse. So much worse. I clamber from the rickety cot and stand before my cell door, hands at my sides, waiting. A man moves from cell to cell. He does not know my name and he never stops to talk. He wears a uniform and stitched on the breast it reads STALLER. Staller is not a bad guy. I know this, because the look in his eyes when he stares into the square glass window of my door is a kind one. Staller is only doing his job. When he walks past my window today, and he taps the glass with his knuckle, I nod. He does not nod back, but I sometimes think he wants to. Staller is not a bad guy, but like the rest of us, he is also expendable and if he does not do his job, someone else will take his place. Staller is the third guard we have had in three years.
When Staller is done checking the cells, the horns fall silent and the next sound is the Voice. Fuzzy and distorted, it tells us to step away from the doors. I move back and with a buzzing sound, and a sharp click, the door swings opened. Next, we are instructed to step out. This is the first time in the day I am able to see the others. I count. Eight men and six women. We are still fourteen, and for a moment I can breathe. The voice tells us to line up and we do, then we travel the length of the long, narrow hallway until we come to a set of doors, painted vibrant red. These doors open with an automatic swish and we go through them, into a brightly lit chamber. Everything is white, the tiles, the ceiling, the walls. Even our gowns and the socks on our feet are white. A second voice comes from the intercom, a woman's voice, deep, exact and succinct. She tells us to disrobe. She adds 'Please', and for some reason I find the forced nature of her politeness offensive, but I obey. We all do.
The gowns are hung on posts by the red doors and we stand in the center of the room, naked, save for cotton underwear. I am vulnerable. Exposed. The lights flare brightly, like the flash on a camera as we are scanned. The woman's voice tells us to gear up and we separate, the men and women, and move to the lockers on either side of that stark white room. Inside are a pair of black sweatpants and a grey tank-top. There are also black socks and sneakers. Lastly, there is a black sweatshirt with a number on the back in solid white. When we are all dressed, we line up again and a pair of doors on the opposite side of the white room swing open. We continue on to the next room. In this room, there are elevators. Each has a grey steel door and above it, a flashing red light. They are numbered, one through thirty.
The number on the back of my sweatshirt is seven. I move to the door marked with the same number and it slides open. Turning to the others, I count them one more time before I step inside. There is always a chance there will be less of us at the end of the day. Over time, I have begun to experience a feeling, a sense when that may happen. Today is one of those days.
My eyes sting, as I step into the elevator. Maybe it will be me, today? Maybe I will be the one who does not return. Part of me hopes it isn't. Part of me prays it is.
The doors close and the elevator rides upwards without a jolt. The indicator light turns green and as the doors open again I step out into another bright, white room. Here, I am alone, but not for long. A door across from mine opens and I am welcomed by a man named Doctor Codrey Lang.
Dr. Lang is tall and thin, with closely cropped blonde hair and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses over clear blue eyes. When he sees me, he smiles. I wish he wouldn't. He approached and his brown loafers make a clacking sound against the floor tiles.
"Ms. Cruz," His voice is mellow and soft, a warm baritone, "You're looking well, this morning. How are you feeling?"
"Fine." I offer plainly. It is the same every day. I have never felt the need to give an honest answer because I do not imagine things would change if I did. Dr. Lang is not like Staller. He smiles and his voice is gentle and cordial, but Dr. Lang is not a good man. None of the doctors at Eden are.
"We have an interesting day ahead of us, Ms. Cruz." He gestures, and we move to the door he came in through. He calls this his office, and inside it is as cold and sterile as the rest of the facility. I am led to a metal table where I sit. Dr. Lang looks at me from the doorway and his stare makes me uncomfortable. As he approaches the table, I shudder, and his hand pats my knee, his smile amiable.
"Are you sleeping any better?" He asks.
"Don't you monitor that?" I know my response is toeing a line, but as I often find these days, I don't care. There is nothing this man can say or do to me that would be worse than what has already been done. As if to put this theory to test, he squeezes my knee. I want to kick him. I want to lash out and punch his shining white teeth down his lying throat. Instead, I sit very still, very quiet. It is not my day to die, I decide. I still don't want to.
"We monitor everything, Ms. Cruz, but tests can only show so much. You know this, of course."
"Right. Of course." My voice is flat, empty. It has been this way for some time, now.
"So?"
"It's the same. Staggered. Like I'm not supposed to be sleeping… like my body doesn't want to." This is only partially true. It isn't 'like' that, at all. The truth is, my body is rejecting sleep, entirely. Dr. Lang and I both know this is because of what they have done to me. Large felines are vastly nocturnal creatures, and in the process of Transmutation, this is the DNA that I have been injected with. We are all of us freaks in Eden's circus, and Dr. Lang is the most unfunny clown I have ever met.
Scribbling on his notepad, Dr. Lang looks up and his eyes rove over me as he checks along the list. It's a process I've grown accustomed to. It's a process I've grown tired of. Before the next question can come, I answer.
"The pills have had no effect."
Dr. Lang frowns. These aren't the words he expected to hear, I know, because the medication should have worked. It would have, had I taken it.
"Ms. Cruz…" His voice is chastening, and in the tone I can hear a note of frustration, "We cannot properly conduct our portion of this experiment if you fail to do your part. Cooperation is key."
"Cooperation." This is Dr. Lang's most favorite catchphrase, "And how exactly am I supposed to be cooperating? Or did you forget again that I didn't sign up for any of this? That none of us did? You want cooperation? Open the doors and let us out. Let us go home."
His smile falters, and his grip tightens on the notepad. When I bring up these points, though I don't dare to do it often, Dr. Lang very suddenly becomes the most honest man I know.
"You want to go back to your cell tonight, Ms. Cruz? You may not want to be here, but you don't exactly have a choice, now, do you? So unless you're looking to make it out of here in a body bag, which I assure is the only way you will ever make it out of here, I would highly recommend you shut your mouth and do as you're told."
I swallow, hard. I hate that he makes me afraid, but for all my bravado, I am terrified. Of Dr. Lang. Of this place. Of what they're doing to me. His words are a reminder of what I have thought all along, of what I have known since they first took us from that bus, three years ago. Unless we can find a way to escape, we are never, ever getting out of Eden Labs.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
The rest of the day is comprised of testing. Most are, these days. Some of the testing is easy, harmless. Other tests are strenuous and challenging. By the end of the day, I am exhausted. I take number seven down to the lowest floor again and I am released into the chamber where the others wait. From there, we return to the room with the red door and we are told by the dull-voiced woman to undress and return to our gowns. As I peel out of the sweatclothes and return them to my locker, I turn to see there are six of us on the women's side, but on the men's side there is one less. Andrew Shaw is missing. He was on the smaller side, Andrew, with a shock of red hair, messy and curly, and a startlingly long nose. Of the men left, he was the youngest. We are thirteen. Thirteen, I'm told is a very unlucky number. I don't think it matters. We have no luck anymore.
Once a week we are allowed twenty minutes of social time. From the red door, we are taken back down the hallway where our cells are, and then through another door on the other end. In this room, three leather couches wait. They are stiff and slick and uncomfortable, and no one rushes to sit, but instead, we crowd into the room and stand in an awkward line up, and for several minutes, not one speaks, the quiet pounding. Deafening.
It is Alexander who breaks the silence, his melancholy voice echoing in the nearly empty space.
"Bastards took out Shaw. Kid's been sick. Couldn't handle the new meds. He was shaking so bad, he couldn't get through the course. So they shot him. Right in front of me. Like a damn dog." He rakes his hands through his ink black hair, pushing it out of his eyes, "They just… shot him."
I try not to flinch, but it can't be helped. Andrew Shaw was a good kid. He deserved better. We all do. But Eden doesn't care about that. They don't care about us. To them we are something less than human and it doesn't matter that they made us that way. In the end we'll all wind up the same way as Andrew. We're dead already, so in the end what would it matter?
"That's three in as many days." Margaux offers. She's a small thing, skinny and blonde with skin so pale it's almost translucent, "They won't have any of us left pretty soon."
"I think maybe that's the point." Daniel says, and I feel my gut clench, but I can't disagree.
"Tests haven't changed in weeks. Not much more they can learn." Alex adds, "And it's not like they need us alive, once they've perfected the formula. No one will miss us. No one even knows we're here."
"Guys, shut up…" This comes from Harrison, whose voice is a sharp, pointed bark, "You don't think they can hear every damn word we say? If they weren't planning to kill us before, we're sure as hell out of luck now."
"What luck?" I mutter, and I can't help myself, "You really think they were ever gonna let us go, Harrison? They pitched a bus over a cliff to convince our families we're already dead. Can't just pretend it never happened."
Alex huffs out his breath and sinks onto one of the couches and I feel suddenly exhausted as well. I find a seat and drop my head into my hands and my hair falls like rivulets between my fingers.
"We have to get out." I can hear Thea say, her still small voice quaking. She's afraid. We all are, "We have to find a way to get out."
"Shh!" Harrison hisses, "Shut up, or you'll be next!"
I can feel the edge of something building in my chest, anxiety pressing against me like a dead weight. My stomach twists, knots, burns. I try not to think how I might die. Despite all I have been through and all that has been done to me, I am a coward and the idea of dying frightens me. But if I am honest, so does the idea of any one of us dying. We pretend that we are mere colleagues, drawn together by the same twist of fate, but in truth, over these last three years we have become so much more than that. We are a family. Andrew was our brother, and he is gone now, and that bears heavy on my soul. I can feel them coming before I can stop them, the tears, and I know the others see them. The heft of Alex's hand on my shoulder is both a comfort and shaming, and I hate how weak I am.
"So what do we do?" Gideon asks, and we're all thinking the same thing, but none of us has the answer, and the frustration seems to fill the room like fog, until we're staggering, blinded by uncertainty.
Our time will end soon, and then we will be forced back into our cells until the next week. If next week comes at all. No one, I'm sure, is feeling particularly social, but with the idea that this might be our last time in this room, we make small talk.
Alexander tells us of his exploits in the training arena today, and how he managed to rip a tree out of the ground by its roots. His strength increases, daily. Ursidae DNA. Specifically Ursus arctos. The brown bear. I want to remind him to temper his strength, that showing too much might give the lab techs reason to put him down, but they don't need to excuse. Margaux is right. They are eliminating us daily, now. It will only be a matter of time before we're all gone, so instead I listen, and I find I can smile when he describes the look of abject terror on his tech's face as he hurled the tree in the man's general direction.
Katie shares after Alex. Campylopterus hemileucurus. The Hummingbird. She explains that she traveled so fast she left streaks of burnt grass in her wake. After Katie is Gideon, Alligator mississippiensis, who describes snapping a log in half with his bare hands.
All of us are so strong, so powerful. This is what they've given us. Yet to them we are mice in cages, forced to obey. As I have often before, I wonder why. Why are we so frightened of them? Why can't we fight back....? And how many more of us will die because of those fears. How many more will we lose because we are too cowardly to stand up to them? I move to say something, but then I remember Andrew… and the others before him and I am stilled. That's why. Because no matter what DNA they splice into our own, no matter what strengths we have, what incredible feats we can accomplish, one thing remains. We can still die, the same as everyone else. And one thing is painfully clear, and has been from the very start. They have a contingency plan in place for even the slightest signs of rebellions. We cannot fight back.
Hope fades as quickly as it rose up and I am suddenly weary. Drained. A moment later, I hear the metallic chimes. Our socializing time has come to an end, and for once I am glad. I can feel the pain, the stress of the day wearing on me and I know I will not last long before I suffer a breakdown. While it hurts to leave them, while it almost always does, there are some days when it is easier to be alone.
We stand and move to the doors and as we step through them and into the hall I find myself counting again.
Thirteen.
I cannot stop myself from thinking… and falling.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
As I reenter my cell there is a tray on the floor with a bowl of beige colored broth, a chunk of bread I know will be too stale to eat , a metal cup with water and a dixie cup filled with pills. This particular cocktail, I've been told, is to help me sleep. I dump the pills into the broth and kick the tray across the floor before collapsing on my cot. I don't cry, though I want to. My cell is monitored, and I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me broken. Quietly, I lie there until the lights overhead click out and then I force my eyes to close, though I know sleep will not come.
Sometime in the early morning hours, my eyes snap open at the sound of a click and as I straighten upright and peer through the darkness, my cell door swings outward. For several seconds after the fact I stare into the void in confusion, waiting for someone to enter. It clicks after I register the absolute silence that no one is coming. Slowly, I shift, my feet touching the floor. It feels cold beneath the thin fabric of my socks, and I notice a chill in the air as well. Our cells were never particularly comfortable, but they are generally pretty temperate. Above my head the closed circuit camera sits, housed behind a plexiglass case. The green light, which indicates that the camera is in proper working order has turned red.
Sudden light floods my cell and I drop back in shock. Olindias formosa … The flower-hat jellyfish. Margaux's particular splice. She stands in the door frame, her pale skin aglow and I can barely compute the idea. But earlier that morning I ran upwards to eighty miles-per-hour, an impossible task without the Cheetah DNA flowing through my body. I stare, and I know I should say something, but the shock won't wear off and before I can shake it, Alex appears behind Margaux, wearing a devil's smile.
"Power's down! Let's roll..."
He doesn't have to say it twice. I'm on my feet and out of my cell before he can finish. In the hallway I stand and meet the faces of the others. Anxiety is palpable, and I am not the only one who wears a look of confusion. Jasper owns the last cell, and as he steps into the group we make thirteen, and without a word we move towards the red doors.
The doors are locked manually, but with their combined efforts, Gideon, Alex, Blake and Daniel are able to wrench them open. In the white room, we move quickly through the darkness, tackle the next set of doors. The room that follows is the elevator room. Thea points out that beyond the elevators there is a door that will lead them to the stairs. It is at this door we run into our first obstacle.
As Thea pushes the door inwards, we hear the footsteps on the metal staircase, descending rapidly. From the sound, I can make out four distinct patterns of footfall, the boots heavy soled, guard-issued uniform. David is beside Thea. He reaches out and pulls her back and behind him and as he does, a bullet strikes the ground where she stood. Alex gestures for us to separate, to stand on either side of the door and without hesitation, we obey. The footsteps grow louder and in the pregnant, cautious silence of our group I can hear their radios, echoing in the stairwell.
The power did not fail… it was shut off. This is not an accident. Someone has come to our aid.
I can hear the men now, at the bottom of the stairs, they slow and their steps soften, but my ears are so attuned, my mind focused. Alex points to Gideon and to the left door, then to Blake and David, and the right door. The rest of us stay put. No one argues, or postures. This is no time to play the hero. We are a unit without ego.
The doors open and there is a flurry of motion as the guards are rushed, taken by surprised. It is quick and they go down without a fight. For a moment or two, no one say anything, but our thoughts, I am sure, travel the same course. The guards are armed. We are not.
"Do we take the guns?" I ask, and there is a tremor in my voice.
"Can't hurt…" Alex says, nodding to the others. The guards are divested of their firearms. Alex keeps one for himself, and gives the others to Gideon, Blake and David.
"We should grab the radio, too…" Harrison adds, as we begin to file through, into the stairwell, "So we know where they're gonna be."
It's a good idea and no one argues when he takes one of the walkie-talkies and slips it into the pocket of his gown. Two by two we take the steps, the four newly armed men at the head. For a moment, we are strong. We are confident. We climb and climb and climb and though our legs are sore, our lungs burning, we don't stop. It occurs to me in the nearly endless ascension that there should be more guards, that this has all been too easy, but I force the thoughts down deep and continue upwards. Finally, we can see the last platform, the doors marked EXIT.
Before the last of us reaches the landing, the doors burst open and all at once, we are overrun. Outnumbered. Clumped together, we freeze and the four in front make a wall before the rest of us. In the midst of the swarm of guards, a woman stands. She is tall, imposing, and her dark eyes scan through us with such volatile disregard I am surprised for a moment that we aren't mowed down immediately.
When she speaks, I recognize her voice as the same one from the intercom each morning, except that in person it is somehow more mechanical and empty.
"My, my, my… What have we here. Naughty birds, caught out of their cages. Tisk, tisk." Her lips, dark cherry red, curve in a smile and irrationally, I find I hate this woman, whoever she is, "Where did you think you were going to go, my little Chickadees?
"You can't keep us here!" Alex growls, and the woman's smile does not falter, but in her eyes I can see anger, quietly seething beneath the surface of those nearly black orbs.
"Suddenly we're so brave, hmm? But I'm afraid you've misjudged our limitations. I assure you, my dear, we're quite capable of keeping you here for as long as we choose to."
"Like hell you can!" From the corner of my eye I see Blake shoot forward, his finger clutching the trigger of the gun. But he isn't fast enough. One of the guards moves at the same time, but he is trained and Blake, even with Silverback in his DNA is not fast enough. The guard reaches out, his hands grasping Blake by the wrist and the elbow. I hear a crack and Blake's arm is twisted, the angle all wrong. He cries out and the gun drops from his hand. No one else moves. No one dares to.
We are not soldiers. We are not warriors. We were fools to think we could get away.
The woman steps forward, her black heels clicking against the concrete floor. She bends and scoops up Blake's discarded gun, eyeing it thoughtfully. He is still on his knees, cradling his arm when she pointed the barrel at him. I feel a scream build in my throat, because I know what's about to happen, but the sound won't come.
The gun goes off and Blake is gone before the report finishes reverberating off the walls. Now we are twelve.
I can't move. My heart pounds against my chest and I swear it will explode out of me with each painful pulse. The others drop their weapons, though I do not think they're even aware they've done it. Behind me, I hear Margaux sobbing, and there are others in tears, but I feel nothing. I am numb. Empty.
Handing the gun to the guard who snapped Blake's arm, the woman turns to us again and her expression is without sympathy. She's pleased with herself.
"Anyone else care to demonstrate just how pathetically out of your element you are? Or have we had enough for tonight?"
It's as if we are naughty children and she's chastening us. But there's no lesson to be learned except one we are already aware of. We are disposable. I don't want to see him as he is, but I force myself to look at Blake. His eyes are open and glazed, staring empty into the ceiling. His expression looks pained, frightened… I step forward, and I can feel Alex reach out, his arm catching mine but I shake him off. I won't be stopped. Beside Blake, I kneel and with trembling fingers, I reach out and close his eyes. It seems so small a gesture, but I look at him now and he almost seems at peace. Almost.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
What happens next is expected. We are led by the guards back to our cells. The power has returned and I do not imagine it will go out ever again. We do not find out who tried to release us, but in the morning, when the horn goes off Staller is not at his post. Instead, through the glass window in my door I am met by the blank expression of the guard who disarmed Blake. His uniform reads COOK. I have no illusions that Cook is a good man, like Staller was. I also have no illusion that Staller made it out of Eden alive.
There is no fight left in me. I didn't think I had one before, but now it's gone entirely. Rising to my feet I move to the door. Today, the sirens go off. For twenty minutes, they blare over the speakers, until my ears and my head throbs. This, I know, is our punishment for last night. Losing Blake was not enough. Not for them. But they don't know, they can't know what it will do to us.
As we file out into the hallway I do not count our number. I cannot. Today does not feel like a day we might lose someone else. Today feels like the day we lose the battle. A part of me, the part that remembers Blake's cold, dead stare, is glad to see the end. It's another type of freedom, and maybe, just maybe it's enough.
In the white room we dress in our gear, but when we arrive at the doors that will lead us to the elevator, they do not open. Instead, the voice over the speakers, the woman from last night tells us to move to the center of the floor and wait. We comply.
Above our heads a large projection screen drops from the ceiling, lowering until it is a few feet off the ground. The screen comes alive and on it's face are images. It takes a moment before I realize what I am seeing. I'm not the only one, but as the realization hits, I can feel disgust build in my gut, and I know from the sounds of the others I am not alone.
It is the sixteen we've lost. Our brothers and sisters. The moments of their lives at Eden… their last moments. I feel sick, and I want to turn away, but I can't. When Blake appears on the screen, my hands knot into fists so tight I can feel my nails digging into my skin, breaking through the tender flesh of my palms. I don't care. In that moment, my anger runs deeper than my pain. We are being mocked. We are being dared. And all at once, even knowing their ultimate aim is to break us, I can feel the fight building within me, once more. They will not have the satisfaction.
The film ends and we are left standing in silence, but there is something different now that was not there all those moments before. There is an unmistakable, searing fire. I look to the left of me, to the right and all the eyes are the same… raw and angry. The film, I don't doubt, was meant to break us, to crush whatever resolve we might still have. They don't know what they've done, what they've unleashed in us.
My thoughts unfold and suddenly I am overcome by the idea that not only is escape possible, it's necessary. Looking to Alex, who is nearest to me, I know he's feeling it, too. His eyes are blazed, determined, and while no one speaks, I know it's unanimous. We're getting out. No matter what it costs us. We're getting out of Eden.
The screen retracts into the ceiling and across from our position the doors open into the elevator room. No one moves. Over the intercom, the woman's voice barks for us to continue. No one budges. Seconds pass, and the horns sound. We are still. The sirens come next, and I feel as though my eardrums may shatter, and I know the others feel it, too… but we stand, stalwart.
Finally, the room is silent and doors slam shut. Our point had been made, but whether or not it will be to our benefit is yet to be seen. I turn to the others, gesture up to the hole in the ceiling where the screen retracted.
"They're trying to break us. Last night, with Blake… and now all this. They don't care what happens to us, so long as we're compliant. So long as they can keep up their research. But I'm done. I'm done being their puppet. Their lab rat. If we stand here and we let them push us around, tell us where to go, what to do… then we deserve what's coming to us. I can't speak for the rest of you… but I'd rather die fighting, than cowering in a cell, waiting to outlive my use."
"Sixteen…" Alex mutters, "They've killed sixteen of us. And for what? For a science experiment? No. Hell no. I'm done, too. Charlie's right… The only chance we have of getting out of here is to fight. They might outnumber us, but they sure as hell aren't stronger than us. Not if we can work together. And I think they know that. I think that's why they let us get that far last night. They wanted to shut us down, to crush whatever hope we had left. They're playing games, and I'm over it."
"...We were together." Margaux's voice is quiet, shaky and when I look over at her, there are tears, streaming down her cheeks, "Blake and I. We… we didn't say anything, because we didn't want them to find out, but we were together, before the crash. I… I loved him."
"Oh, Margaux." I whisper, and I can feel tears form behind my eyes, "I'm so sorry."
Alex shakes his head and the tension in his posture reminds me more of a lion than a bear. He is all power and strength and my pulse begins to race as he looked up, addresses the camera in the corner.
"Damn it! You think you can do this!? You think you can just lock us up here and screw with us like Frankenstein? Turn around kill us when we don't cooperate or when we don't work the way you want us to!? You think we won't fight back?? We aren't done fighting… not by a long shot. Doesn't matter how many of your there are, or what you do to us! We will never stop fighting! So bring it on…"
Slowly, their voices rise, the others… the same dissention, the same righteous anger. We're no longer just a family. We're a force. An army. And something tells me in that moment, they're not quite ready for us. That, I think, is the only advantage we'll have in this fight, but it's a hell of an advantage, all the same. The siren sounds again, but this time it cannot drown out our voices and when it stops, I know they've gotten the message. We all do, and without another word, without apprehension, David, Alex and Gideon rush the doors. On impact the heavy metal buckles, and with another solid ram they are breached. Clustered together, we move forward into the next room.
"They'll be coming." Alex warns, "Stand ready, stick together and remember your strengths! It's us or them, and it's high time we took a win…"
It's the best battle cry we could hope for and it's enough. Across the room the stairwell door opens and we are flooded with guards. Harrison, Thea, Sarah and I move first. We are speed and we are strength combined. The first guards out of the door stand little chance. We take them down and the next wave moves in. Alex, Gideon, David and Daniel rush past, collide into the fray. Katie, Jasper, Margaux and Layla are the last to move, but they are no small threat, even if they are the smallest creatures. We are all of us attuned to our abilities, to our strengths and we have been pushed too far, to hard, for too long.
The guards are quickly dispatched, and taking their weapons, we move on to the stairs. Our climb is slower than the night before, more even and cautious. We won't be caught off guard again. Even as we reach the landing where Blake was killed, we do not lose focus. It's almost funny, that while we were only rats in cages, they trained us like soldiers, and now that is what we have become. We are twelve, but we are twelve, strong.
Crossing the landing, we force the next set of doors open, but as they slam back against the walls, we are met by a volley of gunfire. We pull back on either side of the landing, and I can feel my heart pounding. The gun in my hand feels heavy and slick, and I'm painfully aware of how little I understand the mechanics of it. Some of us are better than others by nature, but in the end we're all firing blindly and in that moment we're aware once again of how outmatched we are. But we don't give up. We can't. We have to keep fighting. For Blake. For Andrew. For the other fourteen. But also for ourselves. We deserve freedom, and we will achieve it, one way or another.
But at this rate, we will run out of ammunition before long, and I doubt the same can be said for the guards. Still, we hit some, and while I try not to think of what we've done it pains me to know that Eden had made killers of us now, too.
I look across the way and catch Alex's eye and he bears the same hollow look I know is on my face. This isn't who we were ever meant to be, but it is unavoidable, now. What breaks me more than anything is the idea that these men… these guards are only doing their job. What lies have they been told that they would so willingly throw away their own lives to protect Eden? Do they even know what was done to us? My guess is probably not. I can't imagine, no… I don't want to imagine that so many people could ever be okay with Eden's actions. They've perverted science for their own benefits, and I can't think anyone tasked with protecting lives would be okay with that.
How many lives has Eden ruined, and for what? For an experiment I'm not even convinced worked? These thoughts are the resolve I need and gripping the gun I round the corner and fire into the wall of guards. I don't know how many I hit, or if I hit any at all, but soon the others are firing as well and the shock of it all seems to freeze our adversaries. No shots are returned, and I hear one of them call into his walkie-talkie for help. There is only static on the other end and I see him, watch as he looks up at us. His own gun falls from his hands and he shakes his head and then he is running in the opposite direction. Then another follows. Soon the clattering of weapons hitting the floor overpowers the sound of our gunfire. They are retreating, those that remain. This isn't their fight and they know it. It isn't supposed to be our fight, either. But we will have it, if it's our only chance for freedom.
As the guards flee, we follow in their wake. Several lay prone on the ground, but I don't stop to look. I can't. I know at least some of them are dead, that we've killed them, but I also know it was either them, or us. This is the furthest we have ever gone, and there is no way we'll stop, now. At the end of the long, broad hallway there is a set of doors, a dusty grey color, with glass windows. We move towards these and no one comes to stop us, as we push through them. I know there must be other guards, ones willing to fight, but we encounter none as we enter a second stairwell.
Up we run, and I dare to feel hopeful. Ahead of us, I can smell something, something new and strange and invigorating. The air is fresh and clean. We've surfaced. Soon, we'll reach the upper levels. Up until now, we've only experienced artificial nature during our training, trees and fields, sown in an indoor environment, designed to give the illusion of the outside world. Soon, it will be reality. Three years, we've been kept beneath the ground, hidden away, trapped. Soon, we will be free again.
My heart slams against my ribs, my eyes filling with tears. I try to think, to focus, but my mind is well and fully entranced now, by the nearness of victory. It's so close I can taste it. I can feel the hand on my arm and I know it's Alex. In a moment like this, so close to the end, he won't leave my side. Like Margaux and Blake, we all have our secrets. Alex has been mine for some time, now, but soon there will be no cause to hide. I cover his hand with my own, and turn to look at him, and as I do, the tears fall. I don't care anymore. We're almost there.
But then there is a sound, like a bee. It buzzes past my head, and something burns my cheek, there is blood now, mingling with the tears. I see Alex go down in a Pollock spurt of red, and his eyes meet mine, frightened, as he cups a hand over the bullet wound in his chest. He stumbles backwards over the railing and I can hear myself screaming, as I reach for him, but he is already gone.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
For a moment, I can't breathe, I can't move. I peer over the railing into the stairwell, but it is too dark to see, even with my vision enhanced. A hand grasps mine and I look to see Gideon. There are tears behind his emerald eyes and I realize then that I am sobbing, screaming, that I've reached hysterics. I can't make myself move, no matter how hard I try, so Gideon swings me upwards, his arms cradling beneath my shoulders and my legs and he runs. I want to shout, beg him to put me down, to let me go, but I cannot force the words out. Ahead, there are more shots, which bounce off the metal rails, off the concrete steps, chunks of stone hewn out by the sniper shot. The stairwell is narrow, however, and his aim is fortunately thrown off by the angle. We'll be on him soon, and then there will be no hope for him. When Gideon sets me down, I grab the gun from my waistband. Anger courses through me, no longer a subtle, burning ire, but pure, unadulterated rage. We reach the top of the stairs and I see him, scrambling for his side arm. It is Cook, but the confidence he held last night when he broke Blake's arm is gone from his face. He seems afraid, and for a moment I hesitate.
A gun goes off behind me and Cook goes down, hard. I spin to see Harrison, his eyes narrowed, angrier than I've seen before. Irrationally, I'm furious with him, but there is no time to waste. Gideon takes my arm and we're moving again, but my legs feel like lead. Inside I'm torn, ripped down the middle. Without Alex, I don't want to keep going, even though I know he would be horrified if I didn't get out. It doesn't matter what Alex might feel. Because Alex is gone. Thinking about him makes my heart hurt, makes my brain feel heavy and dull.
In the distance there is another door and through the square windows I can see light… real, natural light. My heart throbs. We were so close. So close.
The others are running now, moving towards that door like magnets drawn to metal. But I cannot pick up my feet, I cannot push myself onward. It is only Gideon's hand on my arm that keeps me upright at all. I feel dizzy and sick, and numb. The doors burst open and Daniel and David reach them, first, and fresh air rushes in, driving with it a thousand different scents. My stomach turns and I drop to my knees, heave whatever little content my stomach holds. Gideon's hand shifts to my back as he crouches beside me, and I can hear a quiver in his voice when he speaks.
"We have to keep moving, Charlie. Please…"
"I can't… Gid, I can't. He…" I look up and I see his tears, and feel my own and I
know he understand my pain. He and Alex were not just friends, they were brothers.
"He can't be gone, Gideon. I need him not to be gone…"
"He's not, Charlotte. Listen to me… okay? He's not gone. Just like Blake and Andrew and all the others. We will not let them be forgotten. But none of that matters unless we move, now."
He's right. I know he is. I try to stand, but my legs feel like iron, so Gideon wraps his arms around me again and lifts me and I don't complain. It feels like a dream gone wrong, as we step through the doors and out into the morning light. There is so much to take in, so many sensations, but I feel shallow. Hollow. No one pursues us, and I am right in my thinking that no one will. The guards we encountered are not paid to die for Eden Labs, and I do not doubt the others… the doctors and technicians and that awful black hair woman are hiding, holed away in their offices, too afraid we might come after them, that we might retaliate. A part of me wants to, knows that I could. For Alex and Blake and Andrew… for all of the seventeen victims they claims. For our families, who have mourned for three years. For myself… for what they've done to me. The irreparable damage they've caused to my system, my mind, my heart.
I don't know how far we travel, how long. Everything seems to blend together, shuffled into a roiling ball of confusion. When Gideon sets me down, we're in the woods, the glow of the moon barely peeking through the canopy of trees, pale green light casting an eerie glow in the copse we stand in.
The others look torn between absolute, bursting joy and grief and I know that their conflict is partly because of Alex. I want to tell them it's alright. Tell them to celebrate our victory, but I can barely form a coherent thought, let alone words. It doesn't feel like victory to me. Not anymore.
Dropping to the ground, I try to catch my breath, but it feels tight in my chest, my lungs burning when I inhale. It's anxiety, I know, because I've run miles at top speed before and never broke a sweat. Panic has gripped me, and it's a chokehold. I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see Margaux. She has tears in her eyes, and when she bend down to hug me I feel everything unleash. Burying my head against her shoulder, I release the torrent of pain.
Harrison is the first to speak, and when he does his voice is wooden and stiff, and cracks under strain. He's killed a man, directly… intentionally, and I know it lingers in his mind.
"We should split up."
"What? Are you nuts?" Jasper hisses.
"It's our best bet of staying alive!"
"Maybe not… Maybe our best chance is sticking together." Katie says, her soft voice shaking.
"So they can kill us all at once?"
"We got out of there alive! We can take care of ourselves…" Jasper returns, with venom.
Harrison throws his hands in the air, swears loudly, "You can't be that stupid! They let us go, man! You really think it would've been that easy, otherwise?"
"Easy?" I hear myself say, and I don't recognize the sound of my own voice, so broken, so vulnerable, "...Easy?" Breathing out, I break away from Margaux and stand, fists clenched by my sides, "You wanna tell that to Alex?"
"Charlie … I…"
"You what? You weren't thinking? No sh--"
"I think he's right…" Thea speaks up, interrupting me, shaking her head, "I don't want to split up, either, but if they come after us, it'll be a lot harder if we aren't trying to stay together."
"They have a point." Daniel added.
Turning, I look to Gideon, whose expression shifts down into a frown, "...Either way we do this, we have to be smart about it. But there's no point in deciding right now, right here. We don't even know where we are. I say we find a place to shelter down and figure out the rest tomorrow, when we can think clearly."
"Agreed." Jasper echoes and he throws a glare in Harrison's direction.
"Fine." Harrison chirps back, but I can see the fight in him has weakened. After that, there are no more debates and we continue on our way through the woods. Gideon leads us along the rivers, and before long we arrive at a highway, splitting through the flora. Here we pause. This is the first sign of civilization beyond Eden that we have seen in three years. How has life changed? How has the world changed? It seems so long, and I know I'm not the only one wondering. Would anyone recognize us? Would they still mourn, or have they moved on?
But in the end it doesn't matter. We can never go back, that much is clear. There is too much danger, too much risk to the people we love. We may have escaped, but we are not free. Not yet.
Moving along the road, we act with caution and swiftness. Harrison may be right, they may have let us go, but there is no guarantee they will not come after us, all the same, and the more space between us and the laboratory, the better. But for now, we are alone, with no pursuers.
Overhead, darkness bleeds across the sky, speckled with millions upon millions of beams of light, pinprick stars, splashed like paint on canvas. Eventually we come to a cabin, dilapidated and abandoned about a mile off the road. The door is locked with a padlock, but it's easy to break and despite the ramshackled appearance of the place, the inside is relatively clean and free of wildlife. It's small, but we're used to cells that hold little more than a cot and a toilet. To us, it's a palace.
Exhausted, we settle in on the old upholstered furniture or on the floor, and David and Jasper build a fire in the fireplace. There's no food, besides an expired can of green beans and some stale cereal, but no one is really hungry, and we decide in the morning we'll hunt. While we sit and decompress, the subject is brought up again about whether we should stick together, this time by Thea, whose quiet voice reflects a certain edge of discomfort..
"...I'm not saying we should, necessarily, I just… I feel like Harrison has a point and we all need to face it. They aren't gonna just.. stop looking for us, even if they did let us out. Maybe this was just another test, you know? Another experiment, and once they get the response they're looking for, who knows if we'll be able to get away, if we're all clumped up together. We don't exactly blend in, you know?"
Jasper, the main voice of descent earlier, stands, wiping soot from his hands as he looked to Thea, "I get it. I do. I just… how do we even go about deciding, you know? Do we… draw straws to see who goes where? Or assign numbers or something? And is that it? That's who we go with and there's no buts about it? Am I just… just never gonna see most of you again?"
"Maybe we should all just go off on our own." I add, and I can't ignore the bitterness in my tone, "Maybe it's safer that way."
"You don't mean that…" Margaux whispers.
"...Don't I? Look back, Mags… Think about who we've lost already. We try to stick together, we try to be a family, and it just… it just gets the people we love killed. Can you honestly stand there and tell me you wouldn't give anything to have saved Blake? Even if it meant giving him up?"
"You… you know that I would."
"So then what's the point in trying to stick together?"
"Because…" Gideon sighs, "If we don't, who do we have, Charlie? We're alone enough as it is. We split up completely, there's no hope. We might as well stay in Eden. I don't think we can make it without each other. I don't think, after all we've been through, we should have to."
"So we draw straws, like Jasper said." Harrison adds, "And then we come up with a place… when the smoke clears, where we can meet up. Somewhere safe, and neutral."
"Why not here?" Sarah's soft voice interjects, "It's close enough to Eden that they wouldn't expect it… and, well, it's kinda like our first home, outside of that place."
"All in favor…?" Harrison asks, and around the room, some immediately, some a little slowly, hands raise. I raise mine last, and barely above my head. It hurts, the idea of separating, but I meant every word of what I said, and that hurts, too. That I would so quickly abandon my family, to run… to hide…
I miss Alex more desperately with every passing second.
"So in the morning we'll draw… For now, though, we should get some rest." Gideon says, and I look over at him, wondering how anyone can be so strong after all we've been through. He catches my eye and in the brilliant green of his iris I can see pain, deep, stitched beneath the surface. We're all a little broken, but some of us are better at hiding it.
Slowly, the others begin to disperse around the room and throughout the cabin, but I remain by the fire. After a few minutes, Gideon sinks down beside me. I know what he's about to say and I want to tell him to stop. I want to beg him not to, but I can't get the words out in time.
"...I'm sorry, Charlie… about Alex."
"Don't. Don't apologize, Gid. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault.. except mine." I realize then that's what has been so difficult in all of this. The frightening truth I've been avoiding since it happened. "Alex stopped because I did. If I had just kept moving, he would still be alive."
"No." Gideon starts, and his voice is hard, stern, "Don't do that. Don't you dare. It wasn't your fault any more than it was mine. They did this, Charlie . Those monsters. They shot him, and they would've taken all of us out if they could have."
"...We were so close, Gideon. We were right there. Right at the end. The last few steps." I shudder and I can feel the tears coming again, but I try furiously to blink them away, "He wanted it, so badly. His freedom. More than any of us, I think."
Reaching out, Gideon cups my hand and the first tear glides down my cheek, "No, Charlie. That's not true. He wanted you to have that freedom." He leans back and his other hand lifts, the pad of his thumb brushing the tear away, running gently over the red mark where the bullet grazed me, "So many times, he told me, all he wanted was to get you out. To get you safe. You know he… he made me promise if anything happened to him, that I would make sure you were taken care of? That's how much he loved you, Charlotte. You have to know that."
"I loved him, too." I whisper, and I can feel the break again, coming, I can feel it inside of me, pushing against my chest, the grip of it in my throat, but I don't want it, I don't want to feel. I want to be stronger than this. Falling against Gideon's side, I bury my face in his chest and he winds his arms around me.
"I'm gonna keep that promise, Charlie. I'm gonna take care of you. And not just for Alex, either."
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
I'm not sure how long we sit there in silence, after that, but when I pull away, the fire has burned down to cinders and ash, and Gideon has fallen asleep. Ironically, I wish that I had those pills that the techs kept trying to shove down my throat, because in the stone-quiet house, I find I am the only one awake. Even David, the Owl, slumbers in the corner, curled up with Thea. The sight of their closeness makes me cold in so many ways, so I rise to add firewood to the fire, sinking down beside the hearth. Tomorrow will mark the day of change, the day which breaks us apart and sends up back into a world that's largely forgotten us. I know from his speech I will have Gideon by my side, but I still cannot shake the sense that through all of this, no matter if it's all of them or none of them, I will always feel alone without Alex.
Time winds on and the fire dies again, and finally I am able to drift, but only for an hour or two before I'm haunted by a dream, by the memory of Alex, falling over the railing. In my dream I see him, as he falls. He is reaching for me but I am too late and in my head I can hear his voice, asking 'Why… why did you go without me?'
I wake with a gasp, with a strangled cry and in the dusty light of morning I see the cabin has stirred, the others mulling, talking. David, Gideon and Thea are gone, hunting in the woods, I presume. When I stand, Margaux comes my way and reaches out a thin, bony hand.
"Are you okay? You're white as a sheet…"
I nod, but find the motion hurts my head, "I'm fine. Just… just a bad dream, is all. Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing, yet. I think everyone's a little afraid to get started. I'm still not sure it's the best idea… splitting us up. But it makes sense, I guess." A sigh escapes her, and she looks over at me, "I miss him. Blake. I just keep thinking, we were so close to getting out." She frowns, and I know what she's thinking, even before she says it, "...Alex, too."
"What happened to them… what Eden did… someday, Mags, I promise, we're gonna make it right. We're gonna make them pay. And not just for them, either. For us, too. For all of it."
I realize as I say it, how much I mean it. The pain is there, deeply rooted, but so is the determination. I miss Alex, and I will never stop missing him. But someday, I will pay Eden back for all they've done, and in doing so, at least a part of Alex will taste the freedom we have. It won't bring him back, and I don't know if I will ever be able to reconcile that, but it will make his death mean something, and really, that's all I can ask and hope for. That someday, everyone knows the sacrifices the seventeen we lost have made.
The door to the cabin opens and Thea, David and Gideon come inside, carting with them a brace of rabbits each, It's then, even uncleaned, uncooked, that I realize how desperately hungry I am. The silence that fills the cabin as the rabbits are prepared is a pretty clear indicator we're all half starving.
Finally, when the rabbits are ready, cooked over the fire, we eat and afterwards, Harrison pulls out a bundle of straw, and we all know what he's thinking. We've wasted enough time and we have decisions to make.
"There's long, medium and short straws," Harrison begins, holding them in his fists, "I figure there's eleven of us, three groups ought to be enough of a split for now, and we can always break it up even more later, if we have to."
"Let's just get this over with…" Daniel huffs, and he reaches for a straw, pulling it from the bunch. Without hesitation, I pull next and Margaux follows. In the end, into two groups of four and one of three. There are trades, and no one complains. In the end, I am with Gideon and Margaux, then there is Thea, David, Harrison and Sarah, and finally Katie, Daniel, Layla and Jasper.
Satisfied, or at least as much as we can be, we decide together it won't do to dwell. Our farewells are short, because we all know in a way that they have to be. As we leave the cabin, I look back and think how long it might be until we're reunited, but then I think better of it. It won't do to dwell, it never does. In the end, we may never see each other again, but for the time we were trapped in Eden, we can be grateful that we had each other at all.
Our group heads North, along a trail of pine trees, which eventually lead to another road, this one slightly more populated than the one we traveled the day before. As we walk, we are quiet. My thoughts drift to Alex, to what he would have thought of splitting up and I find my heart growing heavy again. By early afternoon we stop to eat what remains of the our rabbit from the morning, and then we set out again. It's aimless wandering, but none of us admits it, out loud. We have to keep moving, even if there is no certain direction.
By nightfall, we are exhausted and sore. The weather is warm enough that we can sleep beneath the stars, but we have little experience with camping and while Gideon manages to build a fire, there is little comfort in the sticks and stones that make up our bed. Margaux, the smallest of our group, is out in minutes and I cover her with a blanket we took from the cabin, before I settle beside Gideon, near the open flames. I try not to think how quiet it is, how small our family has become. Gideon slides his arm around my shoulders and I lay my head against it with a sigh.
"You think they'll be alright?" I ask, quietly, "The others."
"I do... " Gideon starts with a nod, "The dynamics were pretty even, and there's a hunter with each of them. As long as they can manage a camp, keep themselves warm and fed, I don't see why they won't make it to civilization."
"Where do you think we are, anyway?"
"My guess? East coast. Somewhere around Pennsylvania or New York. Could be further south, but the weather doesn't seem warm enough."
"East coast…" I sigh, anchoring my gaze on the fire, "We're so far from home. Not that it matters… doesn't really feel like home anymore, does it?"
"Not really, no. I didn't expect it to, though. I don't think anything will, not for a long while." Gideon shifts, and I draw closer to his side. I know I shouldn't take such comfort in his touch. He isn't Alex, and I know I can't replace one to avoid thinking about the other. But I've spent so long in confinement and he is safe and warm, and I don't just need the solace, I crave it.
"...Do you ever ask yourself, Gid, why it happened to us? Why our bus?"
"I try not to. Doesn't matter, does it? I mean, you start dwelling on that stuff, on the what-ifs, and they'll drive you crazy. Honestly, I think our best bet right now is to just try and move past it all. There are things that we can't change, things we can't control, but we're alive, and we got out. I don't wanna be stuck there, anymore, Char. Not physically, but not in my head, either. I didn't escape, just so they could keep me trapped there mentally."
"You're right." I breathe out, and feel the shift in my mood. It's the first time since we left Eden that I allow myself to really think about what we've done. What it means, to have that freedom, "I never thought it would happen, and I guess I'm just a little afraid to accept it. Like it's not gonna last."
Gideon laughs, softly, and rubs my arm with the palm of his hand, "I think we're all a little afraid, Charlotte. The point isn't being fearless, it's not letting that fear control you. We have a chance to live again, but if we're too scared to take that chance, we might as well have stayed put where we were."
"He always knew. Alex. That we'd get out. I dunno how, but he just… he had this feeling like it wasn't forever, what we were going through."
"He should be here." Gideon says, and I can't mistake the deep sentiment in his voice, the glossy look to his vibrant gaze. I've been selfish, and I know it. The love I had for Alex was certainly different than that of the others, but no more poignant. Reaching out, I gently grip his hand, meeting his eyes. Tears build behind my own, but for once I ride the emotion, unembarrassed.
"I'm so sorry, Gid. I… I didn't stop to think what it meant to you, too. I know he was important to you."
His vision drops and he stares at our hands, twines his fingers through my own, "Alex was like a brother to me, Charlie . But he wasn't half as important to me as you are..."
Curiously, I feel a warmth trail up along my spine, prickling beneath my skin. My face burns and as his eyes twist, flicker to mine I feel my stomach drop. Unconsciously, I know what's coming, but before I can wrap my mind around it, his lips press to mine and all the air is driven from my lungs. I want to tell him to stop. To beg him not to, but my heart and head are at war, and my body seems to have no say. It is brief, so brief that I can barely believe it happened. His cheeks are flushed, and his Adam's apple rises and falls as he swallows, hard.
"I'm sorry." He whispers, his voice trembling, "I know I shouldn't have. I just… I needed to. Just once."
I can't speak. I can barely think. For so long now I never imagined he might be harboring anything akin to these feelings. I had no idea, no reason to assume his devotion was anything more than a show of loyalty for Alex. I don't know what to feel, and it's unnerving, because in my head I'm screaming at him, at myself. Alex's body is barely cold and already I've betrayed his memory.
"...Gid…" My voice is raw, and sharper than I mean for it to be, "I can't."
"I know." He says, and he pulls his hand away from mine. I hate myself for feeling the absence of it, almost immediately, "Please, Charlotte. Forgive me. I didn't… I wasn't thinking."
He rises, brushes himself off and I can see the hurt in his eyes, but he turns away before I can say anything, "I'm going to get us something to eat. Stay put. And we should put another log or two on the fire… keep it going."
He's gone a moment later, and I sit, staring into the orange glow, and I cannot sway the feeling of betrayal, but I also cannot sway the feel of his lips on mine. I despise myself.
After a minute or two I force myself to my feet and add the wood to the fire. I try to sit again, but find the idleness maddening, and so I pace. Back and forth, back and forth across the ground, and I gnaw on my fingernails, shred the cuticles until they bleed.
Gideon is not gone long, and when he returns it is with another rabbit, slung over his shoulder. He looks at me, and his expression is so vacant, it makes my stomach turn. Suddenly, the words I couldn't say come out in a burst, angry and hurt and confused.
"Why didn't you tell me? And why now? How long, Gideon? How long did you feel that way…? Did… did Alex know? Did anyone? Damn it..." I run my fingers through my hair, turn away from him, because I cannot stand the look of shame he gives me.
"Alex didn't know. No one did. Because of Alex. I didn't… I didn't mean for you to find out. Not this way. Not ever. Believe me, I was fine, keeping it a secret. I just… I saw Alex go down yesterday, and I thought it was you, and all of this… It just came to the surface. And you've been so sad, and I hate… I hate seeing you like that, Charlotte. It kills me." His voice breaks and I look back at him. His jaw is tight, and he fights hard, but the tears fall, splashing down his cheeks. I step forward, hesitantly, and then with more speed and standing before him, I reach up to brush the dampness away. His hands crash against my own, capturing them, pulling them away.
"Charlotte. Don't. Please. I can't… I... " He releases me and steps back, "I can't do this to you. Not after everything you've been through. It was selfish, and stupid, and I'm sorry. Listen, let's just… let's forget it, okay? Blame it on the stress." His smile was forced, and in his eyes I see such pain it's almost unbearable, but I can't argue with him. I loved Alex, more than I think I will ever be able to love anyone else, and it's too soon, too fresh. I want to explain myself, but somehow I know it won't help, and in the silence that follows, he moves away to clean the rabbit.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
When the rabbit is cleaned and cooked, I wake Margaux so we can all eat, but I find my appetite has greatly diminished since Gideon's revelation. He's silent, and picks at his food, and the feeling in the pit of my stomach grows more intensely painful. Graciously, Margaux doesn't seem to take notice, chattering on and on about her family back home, and how she can't wait to see them. I start to ask her to stop, but think better of it. It isn't her fault, all that's happened, and it's the happiest I've seen her since Blake's death.
After we've eaten and cleaned up, Gideon adds a few more logs to the fire, before he turns his attention to us.
"We should try to get some rest, before we head out again."
"You two go ahead…" Margaux replies, "I'm pretty well rested, and you look super tired."
I look to Gideon, meet his eye and he nods. It won't do to argue, or to tell them I probably won't sleep, and a part of me is so exhausted I think that maybe for once I might manage a few hours. But I know it's a pipe dream, especially with the lingering feeling of dread, following what happened with Gideon. He wanders to the other side of the fire pit and I follow, reaching out to grab his arm.
"Gid, can we talk… please?" I know he doesn't want to, but carrying something like this around with us, unresolved as it is, will destroy us, and we need to stand together. I lead him away from the fire, away from Margaux, so we won't be overheard and when I speak, it is with a conscious ease, a temperament I know I'm not known for.
"I'm not angry with you, Gideon. I'm not…" I repeat, when he looks at me with disbelief, "You surprised me, and… and maybe at first I was mad, because it's just… I feel like it's been twenty minutes, you know? Since Alex… Since we left. I just… I didn't know how to deal with it. I… Gideon, you know I care about you. I could never be angry at you for telling me how you feel. I'm just not ready."
A sigh escapes and he reaches up, cups my cheek, "...I know. But… but that doesn't change the fact that I'm angry with myself, Charlotte. Doing that to you? Putting you in that position, so soon after Alex? I wouldn't blame you for one second if you hated me."
"You know I don't… I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. You're all I have, Gid. You and the others. You're my family. No matter what happens, that doesn't change. Not ever."
His hand falls to my shoulder and with a soft, tired laugh he pulls me against him, hugs me close. I feel his lips brush the crown of my head and the gesture is warming and comforting, and there's nothing more to it than just that. I can feel the residual frustrations melt away, the tension and with a smile I pull away.
"We should get some sleep…"
It comes, eventually, in patches here and there, broken by dreams, by restlessness. Day breaks a few hours after we lie down and Gideon stirs. None of us is very hungry, so we pack the few things we have and continue on. Once again, silence is our companion, but we move swiftly. Over time the trees thin, broadening out into open farmland and that afternoon we arrive at the border of Susquehanna County. For the next several hours, we wander down the rural roads, scoping out any possible places to rest, and by nightfall, we're rewarded with a small white farmhouse well off the road, with a full mailbox and an unlocked barn.
The barn is empty, with no wildlife and more importantly, no people. It's hardly a luxury hotel, but it's warm and private, and there's a small wood stove in the center that proves easy to light, once we locate the cords on the side of the house.
Settling in, Gideon and I once again take first watch so Margaux can sleep. We don't sit close as we did the night before. The tension has worn down, but some remains beneath the surface. I suspect it will for a long time and it seems wrong, somehow, to enjoy comfort in one another when it is only superficial. Still, despite all that transpired, we slip into easy conversation and I allow myself a moment, unburdened by thoughts of Eden. Gideon seems lighter, too, and I begin to think the further from the place we get, the easier it will become to return to some semblance of a normal life.
But as Gideon recounts the time he and his brother got caught trying to shoplift a recliner chair I hear them. The footsteps. Shifting straighter, I hold my finger to my lips and Gideon falls silent. He reaches over, nudges Margaux and as she stirs he signals for her to keep quiet. From my count, there are at least a dozen different treds. Heavy, tromping steps… thick soled boots. The kind the guards wore at Eden. Only these men move with a different precision, an ordered form of unity more akin to the police or…
The door to the barn bursts inward and Gideon is on his feet, pushing Margaux and me behind him, but before anyone enters, there's a tinkling sound of metal hitting the ground and the smoke grenade explodes before our eyes. We drop to the ground, but too slowly. The fog is thick and cloying and I can feel it burning my lungs, my eyes. I scramble, reaching out, clawing for Gideon or Margaux, but I get only air. The footsteps are coming now, closing in and as I suck in a breath of the noxious fumes, I hear a sound, like a camera shutter snapping and there's a sharp sting in my shoulder. Reaching up, I feel the butt of the tranquilizer dart. There are several more shuttering sounds, but I can't see, can't tell if they've made purchase in Gideon or Margaux. I feel the full weight of my body, a heaviness in my head, and I try to stay upright, but I can feel myself slipping. My wrists won't bear me and I fall, and as I do, my eyes lose vision.
The last thing I hear before I fall unconscious is a pair of thick-soled boots coming my way and all I can think is if they'd wanted us dead, they wouldn't use tranqs. Wanting us alive, though… is no comfort.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
When I wake it is with the acute notion that I am being watched. My eyes, grainy and sore blink in the brightness of the fluorescent light above my head and I open my mouth to speak but find it dry, cottony. My arms and legs are strapped down to the metal table I lay on, and except for a white cotton sheet, I am naked. The room is sterile and sparse, a pale ivory color, the drop ceiling speckled with age. To my left a man stands. He is immensely tall, with dark hair, grey at the fringe and large, bulging eyes, deep blue. He wears a lab coat and grey slacks and around his neck hands a stethoscope.
He looks to me and smiles, and for a moment, only a moment I am vastly confused. Then he speaks and his thick Russian accent grates against the pounding in my skull.
"Ah. You're awake, good, good. I am Doctor Maxim Clinchovstoya. Don't be afraid, Ms. Cruz. You are in good hands."
"...Where the hell am I?"
"Ah! Right. Yes, yes. Um. No. I… I am not best to answer questions. Wait here. I will get General."
As he walks away, I watch, taking notice of the slight limp in his left leg. He disappears through a gunmetal grey door and does not return for some time. When he enters again, he is with a man half his size, twice as wide, with jet black hair, tightly coiled to his head and a mustache that takes up a large portion of his lower face. His eyes are small and dark, but animated. Approaching the table, he looks me over from head to toe before meeting my gaze.
"Ms. Cruz. I am General Isaac Donner of the United States Marine Corp. I apologize for any discomfort. I'm sure you have questions, and I'm happy to answer. I have a few myself, if you wouldn't mind."
"You can start by telling me where I am." I repeat, "And getting me the hell out of these restraints!"
"Certainly." The general gestures to Dr. Clinchovstoya, who moves quickly to undo the binding straps. Free of them, I straighten, wrapping the sheet tightly around my form, my eyes narrowing down on the two men.
"You are in a secluded military facility, Ms. Cruz, outside of Lancaster, Pennsylvania."
"And the others? My friends?"
"In the next room. Both healthy as a Georgia Peach."
"How did you find us?"
"We've been tracking you, since you left Eden Laboratory."
I feel my blood freeze at those words, and my posture runs rigid.
"Easy does it, Ms. Cruz. We aren't affiliated, I can assure you. We've been following Eden's procedures over the years… but up until now, we haven't been able to get much more than a 'piss off and die' from old Dana Jarr. But we've been runnin' recon all the same. Saw your group slip out a few days ago and we've been trackin' you since."
"...Why?"
"Well, Ms. Cruz… I'll be frank. Our intel says you've got a hell of a few parlor tricks, thanks to Eden's work. We haven't been able to confirm it, but… someone like that, who can do the things you folks can… Well, unfortunately, we can't just let you run amok, can we?"
"I'm sorry," Straightening, I stare and I know the look on my face is one of incredulity, "What?"
"Oh, don't worry. We don't intend to keep you in cages or anything quite so… barbaric. But well, to be honest, Ms. Cruz, I've had a little look see at your DNA and there's just no way, given what we've seen, we can give you folks free reign out there in the world. It's not that we think you're dangerous or anything, but… well… no, actually that's not exactly true. Real fact of the matter is, you're pretty much a walking weapon, and lettin' you lose, that's not so much an option until we know for sure we don't have anything to worry about."
"And how exactly do you plan and figuring that out?"
Smiling, the general shrugs, "By puttin' you to work for the US military, Missy."
"I don't take it we're gonna have much choice in the matter?"
"Aw, heck. Sure you will. You can either work for us, or… we can lock you away in this facility, indefinitely. Now I'm not one to make decisions for other people, Ms. Cruz, but… I think it's a pretty clear choice, don't you?"
"I wanna see my friends."
"Sure thing, Ms. Cruz. We'll just get you some clothes and run you right over to meet 'em."
True to his word, after I am given a pair of grey sweatpants and a zip up hoodie, I am led from the observation room down a long, tapering hallway, through a series of doors and into what looks to be a cafeteria of sorts. Sitting at a table in the center of the room I see Margaux, looking pale and frightened and Gideon, who I'm sure I've never seen look angrier. Gideon stands when I enter and moves forward and I run to meet him, throwing myself against him in a tight embrace. His arms, strong and lean, wind around me, hold me close. When he releases me a minute later, I move to Margaux and hug her as well, her tiny frame quivering, then I take a seat at the table.
"...Out of the frying pan…" I mutter, and Gideon nods.
"Right into the fire. I was worried something like this might happen. No way Eden stayed off everyone's radar, with all they've been doing over the years."
"But why didn't they shut it down?" Margaux asks, her voice trembling as much as her body is. I reach out to take her hand.
"...Why would they? When we're such a high commodity. Think about it, Mags. They just stumbled on the biggest weapons cache out there. And it's not like we can argue."
"We could escape…" She murmurs, but with very little conviction.
"Something tells me they've got a contingency plan in place for that, too."
"I think I was less afraid of Eden…"
Running his hands through his hair, Gideon sighs, "At least we don't have to worry about them shooting us if we don't pass their tests."
"You sure about that, Gid?" I ask, lowering my voice, "They seem friendly enough, but… but we're still just another weapon in the arsenal. When weapons stop functioning, you don't send them home. You melt them down and start again."
"I've got no intention of being anyone's weapon." He mutters, angrily. My free hand stretches out, takes hold of his arm and he meets my eyes, his gaze softening, "We were out, Charlie . Free. And now we're right back where we started… just in a different cell this time around. I'm starting to think we're not meant to ever make it home."
"I'm afraid you've misjudged our character, Mr. Bastian." General Donner enters the cafeteria and in long strides, approaches the table. He still wears the same smile, but there's something in his eyes now, a fire, that brings light to the nearly pitch irises. "We don't mean to keep you here, at all. Not against your will. But you have to understand, folks like you… a situation like this, it's unpredictable, and we're just tryin' to do right by this country. It isn't our intention to make weapons of you. But we would like to offer you the opportunity to serve in a way Eden certainly didn't intend."
"And if we say no?" Gideon asks, his voice sharp.
"Then once we've decided you aren't a threat to anyone, you're free to go. Can't promise it'll be soon, as I told Ms. Cruz, but we're not the bad guys. I hope you know that."
"Eden said the same thing on more than one occasion…" Margaux adds, softly, "...They lied."
"Yeah, well… I don't expect you to take our word from it, Ms. Briand. I just hope you give us the benefit of doubt, till we can prove it."
"You don't want us for weapons, then what did you mean… you had a job for us." I ask, and General Donner smiles again.
"I'm sure you're familiar with the vast array of abilities you possess, Ms. Cruz?"
My shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, and it's an honest noncommittal. For all their testing, Eden never really fully told us what we were capable of. I imagine this was to prevent us from turning on them.
"Well, at any rate, it's pretty extraordinary. And there's a lot of good that you could do, if you were able to utilize your abilities… strengthen them."
Gideon smirks and for the first time since I came into the room he seems to relax, "You want us to be superheroes?"
Chuckling, General Donner shakes his head, "Not exactly, though for lack of better term, I suppose it works. Just… don't tell Doctor Clinchovstoya. I've reassured him his operation will be handled with absolute seriousness."
"His operation?" I ask.
"Yes. Maxim will be handling the majority of your training, your testing and, if all goes well, will be rating you for field readiness."
"Why us?" Margaux interjects, "I mean… why me? Charlotte and Gideon make sense, but what can I do? There were eleven of us that escaped. Why did you come after us?"
Steepling his fingers under the bush of a mustache, Donner smiles, "Ms. Briand… what makes you think it's just the three of you?"
My eyes widen and I straighten, my eyes moving to Gideon, who seems equally alarmed. "You… you've brought us all here?"
"Eleven, exactly, Ms. Cruz. I'm sorry that I didn't inform you earlier. It wasn't my intention to separate you. I presumed that was your decision, and didn't wish to… interfere."
"But… how?"
Laughing, Donner shrugs, "We are the military, Ms. Cruz. Contrary to some opinions out there, we do still know a little thing or two about what we're doing."
"Can we see them?" Margaux asks, "The others?"
"Certainly. But before you do, there's a few questions I'd like to ask, if I may."
"Shoot." Gideon says with a nod.
"How much contact would you say you've had with Dana Jarr?"
"Who?" I ask.
"Dana Jarr. The director of Eden Labs. You might not know her by name… Stringbean of a thing… dark hair… eyes of Satan?"
"Oh. Her." I look to Margaux, and can see her shift, see the look in her eyes, "Not much… and too much."
Nodding, with a soft chuckle, Donner sighs, "Yes, we thought she might still be a bit reclusive around her subjects. The eleven of you that escaped, was that your full number?"
"No." I start, a little reluctantly, "We were twenty-eight to start. A few in the beginning couldn't handle the procedure, but then they starting killing us off here and there. If we failed a test or couldn't handle the meds… sometimes there wasn't any reason. Most of the time it was the guards, but sometimes the techs would do it, too. Jarr…" Frowning, I look to Margaux, who nods, slowly, "...Jarr took one of them down a few days ago. Our first escape attempt."
"I see. That doesn't surprise me. Very well. One more question and you're free to go meet with the others. How much contact did you have with the outside world? Were there televisions? Newspapers?"
"Letters from home?" Gideon asks, almost bitterly, "Nothing. We had twenty minutes of socializing time once a week, and for the rest of it, when we weren't being tested, we lived in cells. Isolated."
Nodding, Donner lowers his hands, "Alright. That's it for now, then. If you'll follow me, I can take you to the others."
From the cafeteria we return to the narrow hallway and from there, travel to a small flight of stairs. This leads to a series of rooms in another hall, and at the end a pair of doors open into a massive common room. Inside, we are met by the others, and our reunion is one of many mixed reactions.
Fear seems to be the main emotion, as well as the conscious knowledge that once again we are at the mercy of our captors, but there is also an element of excitement. We're together again, the family, and all of us have made it this far. Donner leaves us and as Gideon, Margaux and I join the crowd, I find a chair to sink into and one by one the others begin to detail their journeys, starting with leaving the cabin and ending at their capture. Gideon shares our story, and graciously leaves out the private occurrence between the two of us.
About an hour later, Donner returns and with him is Doctor Clinchovstoya, who has replaced his white lab coat with a grey button down sweater, making him appear somehow taller and more reed-like than before.
The Doctor clears his throat and we turn to attention, as the man nervously fidgets, wringing his hands.
"Good evening. I am Doctor Maxim Clinchovstoya… I have had pleasure to meet some of you, already. Those I have no, hello. Is time, General Donner says, to show why you have been brought here."
General Donner steps forward and puts a hand on the doctor's shoulder, "If you could please follow along, there's something you need to see."
As a unit, we rise and while none of us much in the mood for show and tell, we follow along. As we move down the hall with the many doors, Donner pauses, gesturing to them, "These are your rooms, of course. I trust you'll find them comfortable enough. Feel free to come and go from them as you please. They lock, but only from the inside. Our goal, as I've told some of you already, is not to make prisoners of you. If there's anything you require, anything we can get for you, ask, and we'll do our best to accommodate you."
We continue on, moving through another series of halls and finally down a long stairwell into what felt like the heart of the heart. It reminds me too much of Eden, and I have to pause several times to catch my breath. Gideon is there, and he takes my hand, guides me the rest of the way.
At the foot of the stairs we come to a door with an encryption pad. I think about looking as Donner keys in the code, but before I can try, he looks back and smirks, "We change it, daily. Random numerics."
For some reason, I find myself smiling in return. He's nothing, if not quick.
The doors swing open and as Donner walks in, the lights turn on automatically, halide fixtures that brighten the room. It's enormous, easily three or four football fields long, two wide, with a high, flat ceiling.
"Welcome…" Donner starts with a grin, "To the training ground." Gesturing to the doctor, the general smiles.
"Yes." Doctor Clinchovstoya begins, and from a messenger bag slung round his skinny form, he pulls out a small tablet, handing it to the general, "Here is training grounds. Is our hope to teach you how to use your abilities, to best advantage. Here is where we will do so."
Donner taps the screen of the tablet and towards the center of the room what looks to be a small obstacle course rises slowly from beneath the floor. It's impressive, to say the least, and appears to appeal to the others as well. Guiding us forward, Donner steps back to let us puruse. Meanwhile, he taps the screen again and beyond the course a tank ascends.
"We have designed what we imagine to be adequate training provision for all of you. Also there is outdoor running track. When not training, there will be also testing. Of course, here in government facility, we do not shoot you if you answer wrong way." He smirked, but none of us can return the expression this time. It's too soon and the way his face falls, I suppose he knows it.
" While none of this is mandatory... " Donner says, jumping in, "It is our hope that you will participate as much as possible. As we said, we don't intend to make soldiers out of you, but the more prepared you are, the better off you are. And the more we know about you, the sooner we can feel comfy lettin' you back out into the world."
"...So if you're not making us into soldiers, what exactly are we training for?" Harrison asks, his tone as suspicious as mine had been.
"Heroes, Ms. Galavant. Genuine heroes. We'll give you some time to look around, chat. The door opens from this side, so feel free to head back upstairs whenever you want. We'll have your names on your dorms when you returns, and there's an intercom system you can use if you need anything. Dinner's in… about two hours. We'll see you then, if you're hungry."
Gesturing to the doctor, General Donner leads the way out of the room and we're left standing, shadowed by the monolith obstacle course.
"...Heroes." Harrison mutters, "More like puppets."
"How is this happening to us, again?" Katie asks, and I can see in so many of their eyes the same mirrored expression of despair.
"It's a nightmare." Sarah whispers.
"Look…" Gideon frowns and steps forward, "I know it's not ideal, but… but think about it. Maybe he's right. Maybe they all are. You really think we're gonna be able to just go home? Fit right back into our lives? We've been dead to them for three years… and we're not exactly the same people we were when that bus crashed. Not to mention the fact that Eden knows who we are. Don't you think that home is the first place they'll look for us? And then what? They shoot first, and they don't ask questions. You really wanna put your families at risk? Cause I know I don't. This… this is an opportunity to take what Eden did to us and turn it against them. This is a chance for us to be something more than just… fugitive lab rats."
"Something more?" Harrison frowns, shaking his head, "More like just someone else's rats."
"I dunno…" I offer, quietly, "It doesn't feel like Eden did. I mean, I get it… I do. But maybe Gideon has a point. What life could we have out there, now? This… this is a chance for us to change things for the better. And you hear him, the general. If we don't want to do this, we don't have to. But I want to…"
Margaux stands beside me and nods, "So do I… and I think we all should. It was a mistake, splitting up. I get why, but we're a family. We need to stick together. This is a way for us to do that, without the risk of exposure. Without the risk of Eden finding us, again."
"I gotta say… it sounds pretty legit." Daniel adds, with a shrug, "I mean, we're not in lockdown, and there's no one standin' around pointing a rifle at us."
"And even if they're full of crap… can't hurt to figure out all we can do, right?" David suggests.
Glancing at the course, Harrison shakes his head, "I hope so. Cause I'm real tired of tryin' to break out of places like this."
"So we're staying then?" Jasper asks.
"All in favor?" Gideon asks, and most of the hands are up before he can finish. Harrison is the last, and with a small smirk, his shoulders rise and fall.
"To hell with it. I'm in."
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Several weeks have passed since our escape and near subsequent procurement by the United States military. A lot has changed in so short a period of time. Our training has proven beneficial not only to the military, but also to ourselves. We are learning, and growing every day, and have begun to discovers factors in our spliced coding that we had never imagined possible under Eden's control.
My top speed has increased to nearly eighty-eight miles per hour, and I am able to sprint, unhindered for nearly a mile. I can see in the darkness and have attuned my senses to the slightest sounds and smells. I still don't sleep, but I wonder now if it is more due to my dreams than the restlessness in my feline DNA.
The others are settling in as well, and their progress is equal to my own. We aren't an unstoppable force of reckoning, but we are stronger than we ever would have been, prior to leaving Eden Labs.
In time I know we will only continue to grow, but I wonder what will happen in the event of this. We are not soldiers, as General Donner promised… but that doesn't mean we cannot become soldiers.
Sitting in the common room later, my thoughts revolve around the last few days at The Zoo, as we've taken to calling our new home. I hear the doors open, but it doesn't register that I am not alone until I hear Gideon's voice.
"You home, Charlie ?" He asks, and I look up with a small smile, "Sort of checked out there, for a minute."
"I'm here. Just thinking…" Straightening in my seat I look at him. Over the past few weeks he has been improving more than most of us. He looks stronger, fiercer, and there is a definite power behind those dark green eyes that he did not possess before. Since that night in the woods he hasn't tried to kiss me again, but I find myself thinking about it more now, than I did before. It is only memories of Alex, which still haunt me daily,which keep me grounded.
"Thinking about what?"
"Are you happy here, Gid?" I ask, and he chuckles, picking up my legs, which are splayed out on the couch so he can sit beside me.
"Happy? That's kind of a funny way to put it…"
"Yeah, I guess so. I just mean… are you glad we stayed?"
Leaning back against the couch, he cups his hands behind his head, "I'm not sorry about it. I dunno if I'd say I'm glad, but… well, it beats running."
"I guess it just hit me, sitting here...how weird all of this is. It still doesn't feel real. Any of it. Eden, this place. It's like we're living these lives, but they're just… they're not real."
"Yeah. I know what you mean. I keep waiting to wake up, like it's all some kind of crazy dream. But it's just… it's not happening. But I guess we know why. It is real, Charlotte. All of it. We just have to learn to accept it."
"Does it feel to you like we're just… learning to accept a whole lot more than we rightly should have to?"
Laughing softly, Gideon nods, "Definitely feels that way. You wanna take a walk? I need some air…"
"Sure." I slide my legs from his lap and rise to my feet and he is right behind me. We head in the direction of the training yard. I still feel pressure in my chest going down the stairs, but Gideon sticks close and when we reach the door which will let us outside I can breathe easily again.
The weather has turned colder and a light snow rests on the hardened earth of the running track. Stepping outside, I inhale, and my lungs feel the burn of icy air. I find myself smiling, nearly frozen to my toes, but freer than I have been in years. Stepping up by my side, Gideon smiles faintly, breathing in deep.
"...Heard you broke your record yesterday." He says, and my lips split into a grin.
"Eighty-eight. Doc thinks I can go faster, though. He says Cheetah's top out around seventy-five, eighty at the highest, but he thinks there's something in my system that pushes those limits."
"What, you think there's a chance we've got more than just the one?"
"They never did bother to give us a full report, did they? And I wouldn't be surprised. Whatever they were trying to do, there were always more injections, more drugs… I stopped taking the pills, towards the end, cause I was sure they were just shooting for a more humane way to get rid of us."
"Yeah, same here. I wonder, though. Guess we'll find out when Doc gets our lab work finished with. That'd be a hell of a trip… cause we're not big enough freaks as it is."
"Yeah, but at least we thought we were thoroughbred freaks. Now we're just mutts."
Gideon laughs and nudges me and I feel the smile warm, looping my arm through his. We're close, suddenly, closer than we've been in a long time and I find myself staring up into those brilliant eyes, which soften as they meet my own. His hand rises, slips through my hair and to the base of my neck and there's something inside of me that has been waiting for this moment, almost desperately. But when he leans in, it is to brush a kiss to the crown of my head, only, and I realize the timing is all wrong. My thoughts drift to Alex, and slowly, I pull away, tucking my hands into the pocket of my sweatshirt.
"We should head in." Gideon says, softly and I nod, following him back to the door. We make our way through the facility, to the common room, which has come to life since our trip outside. Daniel, Sarah, Margaux and David are at the foosball table, Harrison is curled up by the fire with a book in his lap, sound asleep and Layla, Thea and Jasper are Katie are chatting in the chairs by the bay window.
For the first time in a long time, everyone seems at peace. Even Gideon is smiling again, and giving me a squeeze on the shoulder, he moves to the foosball table to referee a squabble between Daniel and Sarah over a goal. Looking over, Margaux slips away from the table and Gideon takes her place as she comes my way.
"Hey. So, it's snowing. Early this year…"
"Yeah. I was surprised to see so much on the ground already."
"You and Gideon go for a walk?"
"We did…"
"So… you two... " Biting her lip, she smiles, coyly, "I mean, not that I'm surprised, I just…"
"We're not." I interject, a little sharper than I mean to, "It's not like that."
"You sure? Cause he follows you around like a little lost puppy. And… well, I can't help but notice you're not exactly avoiding him?"
Frowning, I look to her. I don't want to be angry, but I can feel it, building. I know it's because what she's saying is true, but admitted that out loud? It feels like such a dishonor of Alex's memory. "It's not like that, Mags. Let it go, okay? Please?"
"No problem, Charlotte. Sorry. I didn't mean to--"
"It's fine." And forcing a smile, I reach out to pat her arm, "Really. It's okay."
"You should come play. It's fun."
"Actually, I think I might go lay down. I'm really tired. You know how it is. Nocturnal and all." I laugh softly and Margaux nods, chuckling as well.
"I can imagine. Have a good rest."
"Thanks, Mags."
I give the room one last look, then step out and head down the hall to wear my dorm waits. I hate the sudden desire I feel to pull away. I know they are my family and that being with them should be a priority, but some days, it's harder than others. I worry still, that staying with them, allowing ourselves to grow closer, it will only make it more difficult when we face loss, and I have no delusions that we won't. Whatever General Donner has said in the past, we are being built into an army, and whatever our use may be, no army has ever endured a war, without losing some of it's members. Separating myself, it is the only way I can guard myself from the inevitable pain.
Or at least that's what I tell myself, though I know rationally it isn't true. There's no escaping that pain, not really, and on good days, I can remind myself it's better to enjoy them while I have them, but on days like today… days where Alex is all I can think of, I simply cannot handle the emotions.
I'm not sure how long I lay there before I hear the knock. It felt like minutes, but when I look out my window there is darkness outside. Rising, I move to the door and pull it open. Gideon stands outside, a soft frown on his face.
"Hey, Charlotte...You missed dinner. Is everything okay?"
For a moment, I'm not sure how to answer, but with a sigh I lean against my door, shake my head.
"You want to talk about it?" He asks, and I want to say no, but find myself nodding, and he steps in. I close the door behind him.
"So what's up, Charlotte?"
With a sigh, I sink down on the edge of my bed, while Gideon takes a seat in the corner by the bookshelf. All the rooms have been outfitted for comfort, with any accommodation we could need or want, within reason, as Donner promised. They aren't cells, but sometimes they still feel a little like a prison.
"...I'm feeling it again." I say, quietly, "That feeling. Like everything's gonna fall apart. Watching them today, in the common room? It was like… like watching a lie. All of this? This isn't home, Gideon. It might not be Eden, but I just can't… I can't let myself get used to it. I'm so afraid if I do… if I let go like that, I'm just gonna lose everyone."
"Charlotte… You said it yourself, this isn't Eden. We're not facing the threat we were there. You… you can't think after all the time we've been here, that they're still trying to hurt us."
"I don't really know what to think anymore, Gid. I just know every time I think about it… about letting go, all that comes to my mind is Alex. I can see him in my head and it's like a warning light going off, not to forget… not to let myself get close."
"But the more you hide, Charlotte? The more you push people away, the worse you're gonna feel. I know you're scared, and I think about it too, Alex. But ask yourself… if we let that get in the way of living, then what was his sacrifice for?"
"I guess it's just a little harder to see it as a sacrifice when it feels like it was so unnecessary. We've looked at it so many times before, Gid. They practically let us go. They had the manpower to stop us, so why didn't they? And if they weren't going to keep us from escaping, why take down Alex?"
"If I had the answers, Charlie , so would you. You know I hate seeing you this way. I promised I would look after you, and I don't feel like I'm doing a very good job." Shifting, he leans forward and cups my hand, and I turn to him.
"I'm sorry, Gideon. I hate it, too. I wish I could turn it off, allow myself to be happy. I know what's happening here is good, that we're going to be able to use our abilities for the better, but I can't shake it. I don't know if I ever will."
Giving my hand a squeeze, Gideon's expression warms, "...You will. I know you will. You're strong, Charlotte. Stronger than most of us, I think. It's gonna take some time, getting over everything that happened, but you will. We all will, and then, maybe we can actually try living for a change."
"It'd be nice, wouldn't it?" I remark, dryly, "Making our own choices. But I should be grateful. At least it's not Eden. And at least we're together."
"We're gonna be alright, Charlotte. I promise. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."
Looking up, I smile, and I can feel my eyes, damp with tears, "Goes both ways, Gid. According to Donner and the Doc, we're heroes, now. Or at least we will be. And I'm gonna make sure I take care of you, too. You've got my back, I've got yours. That's a promise."
Gideon nods, and his hand releases mine, moves up to brush the tear that falls along my cheek. My own hand covers his and I meet his eyes. Warmth rides the length of my spine and I can feel my cheeks flush, his touch is warm, gentle and slowly my eyes fall shut. I hear him move, lean forward and I inhale, as his fingertip slip through my hair… then, maddeningly, I feel his lips against my forehead. So brief, so chaste. Timing. Again.
He rises and my eyes snap open as I look up at him, "I should go. You need to get some sleep."
And then he's gone, slipping out the door and I miss him. I realized it some time ago, of course, that the depth of my feelings for Gideon have shifted. It might have been the kiss he should not have given, a catalyst to a door I'd left closed for so long, but it's open now and every moment I am with him, I see it building, burning me from the inside out. But I hurt him. Even if he doesn't mean to show it, I know it's true, and he won't push what he thinks isn't welcome. I'm an idiot, for keeping it from him, but every time I consider telling him, every time I think I might, Alex cries out in my brain, and I can't.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I fall back against the bed and shut my eyes. Shut out the world and all of its morbid confusion.
The following day, training is more intense than it has ever been. Donner is there, and with a look on his face I'm not quite used to. It's the look he wears, I'm sure, with the men he trains as soldiers and the way he pushes us, I'm wondering if maybe he'd gone back on what he said when we first began.
By the afternoon I am drenched in sweat, and my body aches, and I am not the only one. Standing by the track, bent over at the waist, I breathe in the cold air, feel it burning in my lungs. Donner approaches, hand on his hips and frowns at me. When I look up, my brow quirks.
"What?" I ask, without bothering to mask the thread of irritation in my voice.
Chuckling, Donner shifted, lowered his arms, "Easy, there. Just… takin' a look. Heard you breached ninety this morning?"
"Eighty-nine." I say, frowning, "But I'm pretty sure my lungs are about to fall out of my chest."
Grinning, Donner shrugged, "Sounds to me like you're just holding back, cause you're scared. Funny, Cruz. You don't strike me as the type to be afraid."
"I'm not scared." I mutter, defiantly, "I just don't see a point in pushing myself if I'm gonna keel over from it."
"Run." He says, quietly, calmly, but with no mistaking that it's an order,
Narrowing my eyes at him, I nevertheless turn to the track and take off. For some reason, one I can't quite put my finger on, his words have angered me, and more infuriating is the idea that I think he knows the effect they will have. It's as good as telling me that if I won't push myself, he will push instead. And I fall for it, because if I have one great flaw about all others, it is that I am stubborn… and cursed with an inherent need to prove myself.
The world rushes by in a blur, wind whipping at my face, through my hair. Faster and faster, I feel the ground beneath my feet, feel the beating of my heart in my chest. I breathe, in and out, in a steady pace and I can feel the speed in the depths of me. Building and building, like a fire. I feel alive. Powerful. Skidding to a stop at the end of the path I look back. I can see Donner… a dot on the horizon and I smirk. He wants speed. I'll give him speed.
Digging my toes in, I shoot off again faster than the last time. Trees blur to streaks of green, the snowy ground a white slash. My lungs don't just burn, they are on fire and I can feel my muscles shaking, quivering under the strain, but I push. I dig in and I push as hard as I can and when I hit the other side of the track, I know, somehow that I've achieved the impossible. Slamming to a stop, nearly throwing myself, I hit the ground on hands and knees, scraping skin, but not caring. Donner isn't just smiling, he's laughing, almost hysterically.
"Ninety-three!" He shouts, holding up the radar gun, "God Almighty, girl! You are incredible!"
And suddenly the anger I felt at him a moment ago is gone and I'm laughing too. And then there are tears. This… this is what he meant when we were first taken in. This was his reason behind bringing us to the Zoo. He wanted to push us, to force us to be the best because in my heart I know that this is something no one else can do. This is something that I can use… to do more than Eden ever had planned for us. I can help change the world. Make it better. Slowly, aching, I rise to my feet, but the pain is worth it.
"I knew you could do it." Donner says, smiling, "I just knew it. You guys have no idea the potential you possess. We just have to tap into it, and you can… you can do such amazing things. Did you know Margaux can breathe under water? Or that David can echolocate? They didn't either. It's just… it's so much more than I ever expected."
Still breathless, I can only nod, but I feel it, too. Something shifting in us. We're not just kids anymore, we're not lab rats… we're becoming something so much more.
Later, after training, I meet with the others in the common room and the spirits are not what I anticipated. There is a shadow hanging over the others and for a moment I wonder if I've imagined it, but when Margaux turns to me, she shakes her head and gestures to the television. Turning towards it, I stare for a moment, confused. Then I read the byline scrolling along the bottom of the screen.
TRANSMUTATION BREAKTHROUGH. EDEN LABORATORIES CREATES MODERN MIRACLES.
Stepping back, my eyes turn to General Donner, who for the first time since we have arrived does not carry a light in his eyes of amusement.
"The bitch announced it at a press conference half an hour ago. They're testing the science… in the open now, on volunteers. Military mostly, but civilians, too. They claim they've been using lab animals for subjects and they're finally ready for human testing."
"That's not all…" Margaux said, softly. There's a pain in her voice. So much pain I cannot bring myself to look at the screen again. Reluctantly, I force my eyes to the television. Standing in a black suit, Dana Jarr looks as menacing and dangerous as ever, but it's who stands beside her that I swear, for a moment, stops my heart. I feel myself falling, but Gideon is there, catches me, lowers me to the floor. He's white as the snow that falls outside the bay window and I can feel his heart pounding.
It's Alex. My Alex. And he's alive.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
For a while, no one speaks, and it's little wonder why. Tears track down my cheeks and I hate the vulnerability, but I cannot stop them. Gideon's arm around my shoulders is my only comfort. My only solace.
When Harrison finally speaks, his reedy voice cutting through the silence, my eyes snap up, sharp and angry at his words.
"...He must've been a mole."
"You shut up!" I growl, and I can feel Gideon tense as well, "Don't you dare! Don't you ever!"
"What other explanation is there!?" Harrison yells, and I stand, but it's Margaux's voice that catches me off guard.
"...Harrison's right. We need to ask the questions, Charlotte. We can't ignore them. How… how else could he be alive?"
"You can't…" Looking to Margaux, I shake my head in disbelieve, "You can't think that he would--" But I can't finished. I can't speak. The tears choke at me and I feel sick and for a moment I'm afraid I may actually vomit. Turning away, I move, and at first I don't know where, but soon enough I'm in the hall, by my dorm. Gideon's heavy tread follows and I think to tell him to leave, but I can't. I don't want him to. Everything had turned on it's head, but he had been the only constant, and whether I'm ready to admit it out loud or not, I need him there. I push open the door and step inside, holding it for him, and when he follows me, I let it slam behind us, crashing against his chest with an angry, bitter sob. And I don't care. For once, I don't care how it looks. I need to cry. I need to, because absolutely nothing else makes sense. And Gideon's arms loop around me, and he pulls me closer and I can feel his tears, as they fall into my hair and against my skin.
Alex. My Alex. But not anymore. Whether what the others think is true or not, I know that my Alex died that day, and this… this is only confirmation of the kind of monsters Eden Laboratories really are. They take the innocent, the good, the kind and they twist and pervert them, in the name of science and people stand around an applaud.
I don't know for how long I stand there, crying, but eventually there are no more tears, and while I am still angry, and I am still bitter, I'm able to extract myself from Gideon long enough to speak. And I hate the words. I hate them and I hate myself for saying them.
"...Maybe they're right."
"Don't say that, Charlotte. You know it's not true." Pulling back, Gideon looks at me, his expression firm, resolute. He believes what he says. I think he has to, "Alex was my best friend, Charlotte. He would've done anything for anyone of us. He made me promise to take care of you. Someone who was working with Eden, who was pretending to care about us, they would never do that. You were his whole world, Charlotte. They're wrong… and they'll realize it, too."
"...Why was he there, then, Gid? How… how is he even alive? I saw him go down? I saw…" In my head, I can still see it, so clear, "I saw the blood. No one could have survived that."
"Maybe not a normal person, no. But we're not exactly normal. We push limits every day, even beyond the parts of us they added to… What's to say he didn't do the same?"
"I can't… I can't think that, Gideon." Moving away, I drop onto the edge of my bed, running my hands over my face, "...Because that means… I left him. And whatever they did to him, whatever they did to make him stand there like that, with them. That's on me."
Following me, Gideon sinks to his knees in front of me, his hands reaching for mine, holding them tightly, "Stop. You have to stop, Charlotte. Don't do this to yourself. Whatever happened to him, that's on Eden. Not you. Not ever. He wanted you to get out, and you did. Don't blame yourself for what they did to him." Releasing a hand, he reached up, cradled my cheek, "I could have gone back for him, too. You want someone to blame… blame me."
Looking up, I shake my head, "No, Gid. Not you're right. It's Eden. It's always Eden."
Straightening, Gideon moves to sit beside me, pulling me into his arms. I lay my head on his chest, close my eyes. His heart has slowed, the pulse against my ear almost normal, but when I loop my arms around his waist, I feel it jump, quickening just slightly. His palms run along my back, soothing and gentle and I am so glad for him, because I know I could not get through this without him.
"Donner's planning an initiative." Gideon says, several minutes later, "He wants to take Eden down, before they can go public. He's asked me to be a part of it. Officially."
Pulling back, I look at him, my brow furrowing, "What do you mean, officially?"
"...He wants me to lead it, actually." Lowering his gaze, he sighs, "I haven't told him my answer yet. I… I wanted to tell you, first."
"Why?"
Looking up, his eyes meet mine, and I'm stunned by the emotion there, "...You know why."
And it's true. I do. I knew it that night in the woods, but his words, his expression confirm it, but wildly, illogically, I want to hear the words. I need to.
"Tell me anyway." I say, softly.
Smiling softly, he reaches up and his hand tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, "I love you, Charlotte. I… I'm in love with you. I have been. For a while."
"Oh." I whisper softly, because for a moment, I'm so struck by hearing it out loud that I can't formulate any other thought.
"...You don't have to… to say anything. I know… I know it's a lot. And I know I don't have any right, after what you've been through to even tell you that. And I know you don't feel the same way, but I've been pushing it down, hiding for so long, and I just… I needed you to know, in case anything happens to me. So, there it is, Charlotte."
"But what if I did, Gideon?" I ask, without looking up at him, "Feel the same way?"
He straightens and I turn my eyes to his, and his search, questioning, "Do you?"
"...I don't know." I answer, shaking my head, "It's different, than that night in the woods. Everything is different. But I'm confused, and I'm scared. Moreso now than ever. Before it was hard, but I knew Alex was gone… but now?"
"Now he isn't, and you don't know if he's himself or not."
"If he's standing with that woman, on national television, I can't believe that he is, Gideon. My Alex… he would never, ever let that happen. He would die, first."
"...Then I owe it to you, Charlotte, to do this. To take down Eden. For what they did to all of us, but mainly for what they did to Alex. To you."
"Gideon… if… if something happens to you, too…"
Reaching out, he takes hold of me, pulls me close and sighs softly, into my hair, "It's not the same as last time, Charlotte. We're prepared, we're stronger. Donner's men, they do this sort of thing all the time. I'll be fine. I promise."
Pulling away, I look up at him, "I love you, too, Gideon."
For a moment, he's silent, still, and he meets my eyes with such intensity I almost look away, but then his hands are at the back of my neck and he leans in and for a moment I'm terrified it will be my forehead or my crown again, but then his lips graze my own and everything fades. It is so chaste, so tender, it feel wrong to call it a kiss, but it is enough in the moment.
He shifts back, a fraction, rests his forehead to mine, his eyes closed. I am awestruck by the significance of all that's happened and suddenly very afraid for him. Afraid of what it means, this mission he's been asked to lead. I want to tell him not to go, but I know that isn't right. That it's selfishness, and that ultimately it won't help us in the end. We need to take down Eden and this is a chance we might not get again.
"I should go." He says, quietly, "Donner wants to discuss tactics."
He stands, but I reach out, take his hand and he looks down at me, smiles gently, "I'll be back, Charlie . I'm not leaving yet."
He bends down, kisses my cheek and then he's gone, and I miss him more than I have any right to. Alone, I'm left with my thoughts, and as I expected they might, they travel to Alex. I know what Gideon says has to be truth, because I know Alex too well to think he could ever betray us willingly, but that doesn't make what I saw any easier. All that it means is whatever Eden did to him, he isn't Alex anymore. And for that, Eden needs to pay.
The thought occurs to me then that should have occurred to me earlier. Rising to my feet I leave my room and head down the hallway and out into the main complex. From there, I make my way to the offices, where General Donner will be. I find him behind his desk, Gideon in front of him. They're chatting quietly, but when I open the door they both fall silent, turning towards me.
"I want in." I say plainly, and Gideon's face falls, but my eyes are focused on Donner, who grins, steepling his fingers in front of his chin.
"By in, I can only imagine you mean our clandestine operation to try and take down Eden Labs?" His gaze flickers to Gideon, who frowns, "It's alright. I thought you might tell her. Actually, I'm kind of glad you did. Won't be easy, Ms. Cruz. You sure about this?"
Nodding, I step fully into the room, "I'm positive. Those people have done enough damage. It's time we shut them down. I want in."
"Fair enough." Gesturing to the chair beside Gideon, he smiles, "Have a seat."
I settle into the chair and for the first time, look fully to Gideon, who only shakes his head, but the frown was gone, replaced by a small, uneasy smirk and despite springing my decision on him as I have, I know he isn't disappointed by it.
"I was just explaining to Mr. Bastian here the plan, if you'd like, I can start over."
I nod, and Donner settles back in his seat, "Essentially, the plan is three pronged. First, we need to infiltrate the base, a man inside, so to speak… of course, this can't be either of you, but I've got a few folks on my end who are used to doing undercover work. Once they've established themselves, we move on to step two, the bait. Basically, we're gonna give Eden what they want, in this case…"
He gestures, and Gideon looks away from me, his voice lowers, "...Me."
"Wait… what?" Because this much, Gideon hasn't shared.
"I realize what you must be thinking," Donner continues, "But Mr. Bastian will be well protected. We've seen from that press conference they had some use for discarded projects, and I hardly think they can resist the temptation to take another former lab rat and turn them guard dog."
"What's the third step?" I ask, a little afraid to know the answer.
"With our mole and Gideon in place, we hit them through the front door... "
Staring at him, I frown and he laughs, "I know… doesn't sound like much of a plan. But it's not the attack that matters. It what Gideon and the mole are accomplishing behind the scenes that really makes a difference."
"We're gonna bomb the labs, Charlotte." Gideon says, with a small smile, "Take them down from the inside, while everyone else is distracted by Donner's army."
"...Hit them from behind. Smart. But it's no guarantee. What if they lock you up, Gid? Or shoot you on sight?"
"It's a risk, sure… but… but we gotta try, Charlie . If we can do this? If we can get in there and destroy their research, they won't be able to hurt anyone else. Not ever again."
"...But they'll get away with what they have done."
"Ah." Donner smiles and shakes his head, "Not quite, my dear. Part of the plan is also to have Mr. Bastian here fit with a wire. If he can get a full confession out of Ms. Jarr, we've got them. We can take down the labs and the whole operation in one go."
"You don't think they'll check you for a wire?"
"I'm counting on it…" He grins, now, and I know I'm missing something.
"If you would, Ms. Cruz… check Mr. Bastian now." Gideon stands, holds out his arm and my brow quirks upright, but I play along. Standing, I slide my hands along his arms and legs, first, then his torso, feeling for any bumps, any cords or tubes. When I feel none, I look up, shake my head and Donner slides a small device across his desk.
"Now scan for radio frequencies… for bugs."
I do, and the machine gives only static.
"And if you checked his ears, his sinus cavity… really, any crevice, you'd find the same results."
"I don't understand."
Reaching into his desk, Donner pulls out another device, this one resembling a antique tape deck. He presses a button and I hear my own voice speaking… Gideon's and Donner's as well. Gideon smile and Donner is beaming.
"Wait… what? How?" I ask, staring dumbstruck at the machine.
"Nanites. We've been experimenting with them for years… Found a way to integrate them… undetectable into the bloodstream and utilize them for surveillance. It's gonna change the face of espionage, completely."
"That… this is crazy."
"I thought so too." Gideon says with a smirk, "But it's also perfect. They won't find a thing, not even in a blood test, cause once the Nanites hit the air, they're essentially destroyed."
"All we need to do," Donner continues, "Is get that bitch talking… get her caught in a monologue and we can take her down with honors."
"Incredible. This… this could actually work."
"That's what we're counting on." Gideon says, nodding.
"You, Ms. Cruz, would be quite handy to have as well. If we can give Eden two of you… they'll be sure to bite. No amount of suspicion, I imagine, is going to convince them to give up the opportunity to bring home two fugitives."
"No…" My lips fold in a frown, as I think about Alex, "No, I don't imagine they would give up that chance at all."
"Well, alright then. We'll go over the plan fully, tomorrow. We can't wait too long, or we might miss the opportunity to stop this from escalating. For now, you folks have had a long day. Best call it a night."
I rise, Gideon follows suit and Donner nods, before we make for the door. In the hallway, as we walk, Gideon takes hold of my hand and despite knowing how foreign, how alien it is, it feels like the most normal gesture in the world. Before I realize it, we've arrived outside of my door. Looking to Gideon, I can feel my pulse quicken, searching his eyes, which seem somehow brighter than ever, even in the dim lighting of the hall. I push my door open and still holding tightly to his hand, I draw him inside.
As the doors shut, as the world is shut out, I lean into him and our lips brush. For a beat, there is only tenderness, softness. His hand rises, his thumb caressing the plains of my cheek, then his lips part against my own, and he braces my nape, presses me back against the door and our mouths are forged together. There is warmth and energy in the embrace. Our kisses move from something insistent, burning, desperate, to languid and tentative things and Gideon leads me to my bed, his arms around me. We aren't intimate. Somehow I think Gideon knows that despite the desire my body carries almost instinctively, I am not ready, not emotionally. Instead, he holds me, and I let him, and for the first time in weeks, I sleep, without the taint of painful memories or dreams.
When I wake in the morning he is beside me, still. I roll, carefully in his arms and look at him as he sleeps, smiling faintly. My fingers brush the lines of his face, his jaw, his nose, his cheeks and lips and slowly, his eyelids flutter, her green gaze finding my own.
"Hey…" He whispers, licking his lips, blinking sleep from his eyes. Reaching up, I brush the hair from his forehead, smiling softly.
"...Hey."
"You sleep okay?"
I nod, curl into him and breathe out relief, breathe out contentment, "I did. First time in a long time."
Stretching out his hand, he runs his fingers through my hair, "How do you feel?"
I know now, he isn't referring to the sleep and I smile, coyly, "Incredible."
Quietly, he laughs, smiles crookedly, and his arms loop around my waist, tugging me close, "Hell, Charlotte...Thanks."
Leaning against him, I shake my head, "Now, don't go getting a big head there, Mr. Bastian. I didn't mean that… or, well… just that. Because you're incredible. But it's not like we... OH… shut up." Because now he's laughing right out, and I can feel my cheeks warm with a blush. His arm tightens and he rolls, pins me to the mattress with a kiss, and I move from pink to scarlet.
When he pulls back, his lips brush my hairline and he whispers, "I love you, Charlotte Cruz."
I smile, open my eyes and meet his gentle gaze, "I love you, Gideon." And this time, I say it without hesitation. His lips crash against mine again and I melt against him, all too willingly, whispering softly, "You're relentless…"
A few minutes later, and with great reluctance, we untangle and crawl out of bed and while he looks at me now and then, conspiratorially, I remind him we have work, and breakfast and he laughs, but leaves me be. He takes my hand when we finally leave my room, and I walk with him down to the cafeteria where we find the others, already sitting, breakfast in full swing.
A few of them look up, Margaux meets my eyes and grins, and I feel suddenly certain she knew what was coming, even before I did. Shaking my head at her, I release Gideon's hand to find a seat at the table and he settles down beside me. It seems so strange, how ordinary I feel, for the first time in a long time. How normal life feels.
I know it will change, I know that in a few hours we'll meet with Donner and discuss our plans, but for now, for those few brief moments while we enjoy breakfast and the company of family, I am content.
