Project Aquarius (The Sensitives Series Book 1) (22 page)

While Sammy disappeared into a back bedroom for a moment, Drea started to doze. When she opened her eyes, he was clutching some gauze and a white cotton T-shirt. He wiped the veggie paste onto the gauze and then reached to put it on Drea’s skin.

“Wait!” she interrupted.

She opened the scavenged bottle of vodka and took a deep breath followed by a large gulp. It tasted like a warm burn. This was her first time drinking and she didn’t see what all the fuss was about. It had a vile aftertaste. She forced another gulp down. Still nasty. From what she had seen in the movies, the next bit was really going to hurt. One more deep breath. Then she poured as much vodka as she could directly into the gaping hole in her side.

“Ahhhh!” she wailed, biting deep grooves in her bottom lip.

Sammy instinctively covered his ears.

“Sorry bud,” she said through clenched teeth. “Okay, it’s clean now, you can put it on.”

Sammy was very gentle laying the mixture against Drea’s skin. He used strips of the T-shirt he had found to wrap around her midsection, binding the poultice to her body. Almost immediately, she felt a funny tingling sensation. It wasn’t too bad really.

“You gonna live?” Darnell teased once the bandage was in place.

“Unfortunately for you, yes,” Drea sassed back.

“So we gonna talk about Ms. Harding gettin’ kidnapped, or what?” Darnell pressed.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. Drea didn’t want to pass on her fears of rape and torture. She had a very active imagination…

“Is she coming back?” Sammy chimed in.

Drea shook her head. “I don’t think so, buddy.”

The hawk from her dream flashed through her mind.

“Can we go get her?” Sammy asked.

“That’s what I’m sayin’. We need to go bust some heads!” Darnell added.

“We cannot go back and get her. Did you see that helicopter and those men with big guns? I don’t know who they are, but they certainly aren’t friendly.”

Drea hated being the adult.

“Mom always said to… to do the right thing,” said Sammy. His sparkling blue eyes begged for an answer.

In the old world, Drea had never been sure if Sammy was listening to anything Mom said. Now here he was quoting her. She noticed that since the Event, there were more and more moments when her brother expressed genuine empathy.

Drea raised her voice, “I don’t want to leave Laura either… but we don’t have an option. I’m not walking back toward Boston. Laura was a nice woman and she helped us out a lot, but she’s gone now and we need to move on. We can’t risk getting picked up by those helicopter guys. We’ve got to get to New Hampshire.” She delivered the news with finality.

“Who died and made you boss?” Darnell sneered.

He impulsively grabbed a lamp from an end table and threw it to the ground, smashing the ceramic base. Then he reared back and spat on the floor in front of Drea’s feet, a pile of mucous landing with a sickening flump.

“Everyone!” she screeched at him. “Everyone is freaking DEAD, you little jerk!”

She wanted to return the favor–– spit in Darnell’s face and destroy someone else’s pointless ugly belongings. Drea wanted to hurt someone for the unfair turn of events. She wanted revenge. But her body remained still as if it was scared of the possibilities. Instead, the anger in Drea’s heart burst out of her lips. “Everyone is dead, except for us! It isn’t freaking fair! Life is not freaking fair! I’m the boss and I hate it! I hate you! Now, get out of my face!”

Darnell ran out of the room and Sammy followed with clamped hands over his ears. Seconds later, the front door slammed.

“Fine, go outside and look for answers that don’t exist! It won’t matter...” she called after them.

Tears streamed down Drea’s face. The truth was heavy. Everyone was dead. She didn’t have the energy to care anymore. The weight of the catastrophe sat unfairly in her gut. She was the leader and she was supposed to step up and do something, but she was completely freaked out. And wounded on top of it. She wished her sadness would just carry her away for good.

Drea closed her eyes, but all she found were the blanks of her eyelids. She wanted to go back in time to before The Event— to a normal time. But her brain wouldn’t give her access to pleasant memories. She was too stressed. She sobbed and wished to fall into her vivid dream world and never wake up.

She chugged the vodka bottle dry.

***

It was unclear how much time had passed, when Drea finally opened her eyes again. As the faux wood paneling came into focus, she noticed for the first time that the walls were adorned with collectible ceramic cats and the room smelled like a mixture of urine and stale beer. What a gross place.

Slowly, Drea rotated her pounding head and found Sammy sitting nearby in a patchy plaid reclining chair. He was wearing his headphones and reading his book. Thankfully, Darnell was not around. Drea heaved a heavy sigh.

Sometimes she felt fully capable, but this was a moment where she had nothing to draw on from her previous life to help inform the here and now. She was on an old smelly couch in an unfamiliar place. Wounded. Everyone she looked up to was gone: Sierra, Matt, her parents, and now Laura. She was utterly alone and she had failed as the leader. To top it off, her side ached with stupidly intense pain. Drea’s eyes leaked fresh tears. She wanted her Mom.

The ache for comfort was followed quickly by a wash of guilt as she watched her innocent brother read.

“I have to be brave,” Drea said quietly, sucking tears into her mouth. “I have to push through and do the opposite of how I feel.” She had to cope with her anxiety and depression. She had to function and push through.

Without warning, Darnell burst through the front door completely out of breath. He babbled incoherently, “There’s someone out there… they… a big dude’s followin’ me.” He pointed in several directions, eyes wide with terror.

Drea jumped to attention, quickly wiping her remaining tears away. “Slow down. Slow down,” she instructed. “Who? Who’s out there?”

“I was… walkin’ around the block… and I saw somethin’… someone. I heard a noise… It was a person I know it. He followin’ me.”

“You sound paranoid, dude.” That was the last thing Drea needed, a kid losing his mind. She had to be the voice of reason.

“I ain’t paranoid. This why I carry a knife. Somethin’ is about to jump off… I can feel it,” Darnell said forcefully.

“Calm down. You’re just on edge from our recent foot chase. We all are,” Drea reasoned. She had to be the anchor. Deep breaths.

“No dude, I saw somethin’. It was a flash of color and then I heard somethin’… They was a shadow.”

“Darnell, the sun is setting. It was probably just a bird or something.”

After she said it, she saw the flaw in her logic. There were no more birds.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Cyril

The buzz of the security gate filled Cyril with a sense of purpose. He had completed his mission and obtained his first bounty.

     “Commander Cyril,” the guards acknowledged with a nod as he passed through the parking garage.

He nodded in return.

Captive and captor moved through the maze of security without incident: first the elevator swipe card, second the finger scanner. Then they moved onto the primary Project Aquarius floor with an access code. And finally a retina scan was required for the lab. Cyril was in the know, a Very Important Person, he could feel it. And he was one of the only people who knew why the structure of the United States had completely collapsed. The thought turned him on.

Predictably, he found Master Shin in his glass office, standing in front of a small crowd, pointing at a projector screen. Cyril couldn’t hear him, but he knew he was doing a briefing. The Master looked up and acknowledged him with a curt wave. In response, Cyril pointed to his left and proudly raised the shackled arm of his captive. Master Shin abruptly stopped lecturing and gestured to his crowd that he needed a moment. He walked out of the room with urgency in his step. The moment Cyril had been waiting for had arrived.

“What the hell is this?” the Master spat.

“A survivor as ordered sir.”

Cyril saluted with militaristic enthusiasm.

“Children. You were to bring back children.”

“The children evaded us, sir. This woman was traveling with them,” Cyril reported.

“Where is the girl you saw the other day?”

“She could not be located, sir.”

“And this was the same group of survivors?” the Master questioned.

“No, sir. This was a different group but—”

“Oh, a different group.” The Master’s tone became sickeningly sweet. “Oh, I see, you thought you could bring back an adult from a different group because clearly that’s the same thing as a child from your first encounter!”

“She’s a survivor sir, we can get information from her.”

Master Shin grunted dismissively. He scrutinized the woman’s face like an art expert looking for a flaw. Then he gingerly slid his finger under the woman’s blindfold and tugged at the corner, revealing her squinting eyes.

“You survived the Pulse?” the Master asked softly.

The woman remained silent.

“Is it true you were traveling with children?” the Master continued, staring hungrily at her blank expression.

She blinked, but did not respond.

The Master turned to Cyril with cold eyes and said, “Doesn’t look like we’re getting any information. But I’m sure you’ll find a use for her… She’s sort of pretty.”

Immediately Cyril took the invitation, dragging his finger down the length of the woman’s face and neck to her collarbone in a beautiful act of control.

She shuddered at his touch. He salivated.

“What should I do, sir?” Cyril asked with bated breath.

“Bring her to the Level D gymnasium. That’s where we’re keeping all of them,” the Master ordered.

“All of them?” he asked, carefully masking his disappointment.

Cyril was confused. His mission had departed three hours ago and he had brought back the first survivor. His face flushed deep red at the thought of failure.

“You think I trusted this whole mission to you Cyril?” the Master laughed. “I had a test run at the Albany facility first. They started collecting survivors just hours after The Pulse… with mixed results. I made some tactical adjustments after the failed van missions.” Shin appeared to glower and gloat at the same time.

“You were in charge of Boston Recon Team B.” Master Shin lingered over the letter B to let it sink in. “Team A returned yesterday with a group of kids from Newton. We’re preparing to interview them now.”

How could he be so stupid? Cyril had assumed he was in the know, but Master Shin had used him, just like he used everyone else. Cyril wasn’t special. In fact, he was disposable. It was crucial that he reassert his usefulness.

“Sir, with permission, I would like to go back out with Team B and do surveillance. There could be more pockets of activity out west of the city,” Cyril requested.

The Master rubbed his chin as he considered the proposal. “Yes, good. Do surveillance. But I don’t want you to collect any survivors. Just observe and document.”

“Just observe, sir?” Cyril clarified. The Master was giving him a second chance. A wave of validation flooded his chest.

“Yes. I want to know their movements. I want to see how Sensitives think on their feet. I want photographs.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sara

At this point, Sara was used to her semi-permanent state of resigned anger. Her adrenals were in overdrive and the agitation had led to chronic dehydration. She took a large gulp from her water bottle and glanced at her reflection one last time. The past few days had aged her. Her locker mirror revealed stress in the crow’s feet around her eyes. She grunted in disapproval and tossed the cheap mirror in her duffel.

    She was almost done packing when James appeared in her periphery. His expression begged an answer.

“They relocated me. I’ve been reassigned to the gym,” Sara told him, anticipating his question.

James rolled his eyes and plunked himself on her bunk with force. The springs groaned under his weight.

Sara continued to fold the company-issued blanket even though James was sitting on it. She noted it was emblazoned with an old GenetiCorp logo, a reminder of how things used to be… merely days ago.

“How was your mission?” she asked to fill the silence.

James stared forward in a daze. “It was messed up. We kidnapped some woman. They’re bringing people back here Sara,” he said.

“I know.” She wished she didn’t know the state of things.

Their eyes locked for a moment. Impulsively, she reached out and pulled him into a close embrace. His warmth felt comforting, like a cup of tea that sucked the chill out of her bones. She let his breath pool on her neck with each exhalation. James used to be her boss, but he was also the only human being left who was a true ally. And Sara was pretty sure this was a goodbye of sorts.

She shared, “I’ve been reassigned to Survivor Inventory and Processing.” The sound of it gave her the creeps.

“But that’s not even remotely close to your job description,” James protested.

“And Recon is close to yours?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “There isn’t much choice in the matter, James. In this new world, you are in on it or you get eliminated. Have you noticed that the staff around the Project Aquarius lab has been thinning out lately?” she asked pointedly in his ear.

“All of this is nuts. We have to get out of here—” James said finally pulling away from the embrace.

“Shhh. What did I tell you about saying that out loud? We only have a few moments. They’re expecting me. Did you find out anything useful?”

Sara felt if she knew the weak points of the system, she might be able to figure out a way to expose the truth or escape without a death sentence.

“Um… there are multiple Recon teams traveling by ground and air. We are surveying the surrounding area. There are survivors… Groups of them,” James reported.

“And?”

“And… there are far less survivors than the higher ups anticipated. Mostly kids survived… which is weird…”

“Interesting,” Sara wondered out loud.

“Oh, and Shin is mad at one of his commanders. Cyril. I used to work with him at the startup.”

Sara nodded.

“Good. That’s good information.” She hadn’t the foggiest what most of it meant, but she had to have faith that the meaning would become clear over time.

James’ shoulders sagged and his expression dropped. “Things are bad out there, Sara,” he said.

He was looking older and more haggard each day. Tragedy did that to people. For the last week, he had let his facial hair grow haphazardly and a thin film of grease had donned the top of his head.

“Stay strong. We’re going to get through this,” she said only half-believing her words.

“But—” James feebly protested.

“Just stay out of trouble,” she ordered her former boss.

Sara patted him on the back and hoisted her duffel over her shoulder to set out for her next task. Whatever Survivor Inventory and Processing meant, it was sure to be interesting.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Darnell

Darnell had always been an early riser, up with the sun. And this morning was no exception. He had to take a leak. Bad.

Quietly, he snuck out the front door of the run-down cape. No rules in the new world meant he could pee anywhere he wanted. Frankly, he preferred to soak the bushes. There was something subversive and freeing about it.

Darnell chose a rose bush and let his stream go. Ah, sweet relief. He covered the tiny pink rosebuds in urine. Stupid little flowers with sharp spikes, he never understood why girls liked them so much.

Then he heard it, a subtle rustling sound–– a human noise. His ears pricked up. It was his stalker. He could sense it. Someone was watching him. He made a mental check of the knife in his pocket.

Darnell visually swept his surroundings. He turned his head slowly to the left and noted some ivy on top of the fence rustling in the wind. Typical springtime stuff. Nothing to freak out about. Then he turned right and what he saw made his jaw unhinge.

There was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen: tall, blonde ringlets framing her face, slender but curvy in all the right places. The teenage girl was still a good ten feet away, partially tucked behind a parked Honda. She wore an oversized hoodie with some leggings, casually as though she were oblivious to her beauty. Total hottie.

The girl let out a simple, “Hey.”

“Uh…” Darnell managed, his stream still dripping on the plants. “Sorry,” he sputtered as he finished and zipped up.

The girl stepped out from behind the car and immediately Darnell felt an intensity in her gaze that disarmed him. She was pure magic.

“You… you’re a girl,” he stuttered like an idiot.

“How astute of you to notice. And you’re a boy,” she said while pointing to the bushes. Then she raised her eyebrows and smirked at the same time.

Darnell melted. He was in trouble.

“No… I mean yes… Uh… It’s… I thought my stalker was a big Hulk kind of dude… just sayin’.”

Darnell’s mouth was having difficulty forming words. Shit. No, don’t say that… Shit. He didn’t dare swear out loud in front of the girl. It wouldn’t win him any points.

The girl pushed back her hood to reveal her shimming long blonde locks, which fell perfectly like in a shampoo commercial.

“Definitely a girl.” Darnell swallowed. He felt his cheeks betray him with a blush. She was so unbelievably gorgeous; he could stare at her forever. But his eyes stopped roving when he saw the thing strapped to her back.

A pristine hunting rifle hung over her shoulder.

“A girl with a gun,” he said with widened eyes.

“Sorry, I should have ditched it in the bushes. I’m not a threat,” she said. “I swear.”

Darnell believed her. He would have believed anything she said. She could have said that she was the Pope or Justin Bieber. It didn’t matter. Just to be in her presence was delicious. She had total control.

“You want to go inside and talk?” the girl offered.

Sure. He would go anywhere with her.

Darnell remained frozen for a moment. Then he realized he was supposed to say or do something. His mouth was still jumbled and dry, but he wanted to impress this girl. Bad. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing or get her mad.

He felt pulled to get closer to her, to touch her. So without another word, he took her gently by the hand and led her into the house.

“Drea? We got company,” he announced still grasping the beautiful girl’s hand. She had the softest skin in the world. Creamy and smooth.

Drea was up early sorting through the enormous book collection amassed by the previous owners of the house. She was partially hidden behind the mountain of texts.

“Man, these people were readers. And they liked some pretty diverse stuff,” she said. “Stephen King. Mercedes Lackey. The Harry Potter series.”

“Ahem... We got COMPANY,” Darnell stressed, clearing his throat.

“Company?” Drea’s back straightened at the mention of someone new. She obviously hadn’t heard him the first time and was caught off guard.

“Oh, uh… hi,” she stammered.

Drea tried to remain poised as she eyed the new girl and climbed over the stacks at the same time, resulting in a bungling mess. The books scattered and slid everywhere.

Darnell groaned at Drea’s mortifying clumsiness.

“Cute,” said the beautiful creature next to him. “I’m Taylor.”

Taylor dropped Darnell’s hand and extended hers to Drea to symbolize that she wasn’t a threat. She bowed her head very slightly. Darnell appreciated her effort.

“Is it alright if I sit down?” Taylor asked.

Drea stood unmoving. The girl battle had begun. Darnell could feel it.

“I’m not going to hurt you or anything.”

Taylor removed the rifle and L.L. Bean bag from her back and set them on the ground. “See? I just want to talk.”

“Yeah, Drea, can she sit down?” Darnell motioned toward the sofa with his head.

Drea nodded in slow motion.

Taylor perched herself on the edge of the worn plaid couch. The warm fuzzy smell of old beer and cat pee embraced Darnell’s nostrils. How embarrassing.

There was an extremely awkward silence.

“I saw what happened to you back there, on the Pike,” Taylor finally admitted.

“Told you someone was followin’ me!” Darnell spouted.

“And?” Drea stood next to her book fortress, arms crossed.

“And… I’ve seen it happen before. They take people in vans and now they’ve upgraded to helicopters. Have you seen the vans? The creepy black ones? They were all over Albany.”

The new girl’s mention of the incident on the Pike sent Drea and Darnell into a flurry of activity, talking over each other and vying for their guest’s attention.

“Did you see the part where I did a ninja move and dove through the fence?” Darnell asked. “Or when I jumped straight in the air and cleared like three feet of garbage?” Darnell wanted Taylor to hear about his heroics and admire his athleticism.

But Drea jumped in before Taylor could answer, “Did you catch the writing on the helicopter? I only saw it for a second. It was some kind of corporate logo. Do you know what it means?”

Taylor didn’t respond, but tilted her head slightly to the left and hovered there, as though she was listening to some distant music that Darnell couldn’t hear. Then she closed her eyes and drifted off, like she was sleeping while sitting up.

“Uh… Taylor? You said you was in Albany? You from there? How’d you get here?” Darnell questioned.

After several minutes, the new girl opened her eyes slowly. She made no mention of her sudden mental departure. Darnell’s heart fluttered as her piercing blues caught his stare.

“Yeah, I’m from Albany. That’s where I was when it happened. I walked here.”

“You walked here?” Drea asked skeptically.

“Yup, on 90 the whole way.”

“But that’s like over a hundred miles,” said Drea.

“Closer to 150 I think… I came to find you.”

Drea shook her head and took a step back. “That’s impossible. You’re lying.”

“Yo, don’t be rude.” Darnell couldn’t be suspicious of anyone so beautiful. “You came here to find us?”

“Yes. I don’t mean to be creepy or anything. But I came to give you a message,” Taylor said.

“What kind of message?” Darnell inquired. Maybe she had come from Heaven itself.

He felt his heart fall into his stomach as Taylor turned to Drea, bypassing him completely. “The message is for you… from a slender boy with floppy hair… the one who abandoned you back at your school.”

The color drained from Drea’s cheeks. “Yeah…”

“He says meant to come back for you, but he ran into some trouble and… he didn’t make it. He’s sorry.”

“That’s not possible…” Drea protested.

“He helped me find you.”

Darnell hung on every word. “Drea, who dat? Who she talkin’ about?” Darnell hated to be out of the know.

Taylor’s gaze was dialed in on Drea’s face. “Show me the card,” Taylor said with intensity.

“What? What she talkin’ about?” Darnell asked.

There was a standoff. Neither girl looked at Darnell.

“The card. Show it to me,” repeated Taylor. She opened her hands and placed them palms up in front of Drea, appearing like a serene angel statue.

“What card? You’re not making any sense,” Drea said defensively, eyes still locked onto Taylor.

An image snapped in Darnell’s mind. He knew what Taylor was talking about. “She means those witchy cards you use every night.” Darnell paused. “Right?”

Taylor nodded in his direction and then turned back to Drea. “Show me the one she was holding when you found her.”

The beauty smiled and a vibration of serenity washed over the room. Darnell felt goose bumps rise on his arms.