Stronger (12 page)

I’m once again strapped to the chair wondering how I got here.

Oh, right, because I
saved
someone—
Bryant
. And I saved a Deb from Lee’s merciless abuse in the tattoo parlor. Before that, I made the mistake of having a friend, of being nice enough to Gracie to be memorable. Of getting close enough for her to identify me and turn me in. I walked to my own doom on a long road of good intentions.

The accusations Bates made come back to me. They think I’m an alien invader, a Musk spy. Maybe it’s better to let them believe I’m a Musk secret weapon. If I say the wrong thing, it will lead back to Uncle Charlie and the rebellion. They’ll probably kill me either way. But it looks like they intend to study me first.

Sad, that after all Uncle Charlie’s efforts to save me from this fate, I still ended up in their lab. I shiver. I need to get out of here. I try to sit up and find a thick leather restraint across my chest as well. I’d forgotten for a moment I was tied down. Trapped. I bang my head against the metal chair and force my tears back. Even through closed eyelids, the brilliant light bores into my head.

The door opens with a squeak. My breath hitches and I will my body to relax, to pretend to sleep. Maybe if I do, they’ll leave me alone.

A pair of heavy boots walks to the chair. I can feel the newcomer standing over me, like a giant shadow stealing the warmth of the sun. Icy dread slithers through me. A needle jabs at my neck, sending something foreign into my body. I wince.

“We know you’re awake. So you can quit pretending.”

I don’t recognize the voice. When I don’t respond, the man clicks his tongue. “I
can
get your attention. I have all sorts of fun toys.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” I squint up at him, his form a blurry silhouette against the light. The beginning of a headache builds in my skull. I close my eyes, but light still blares through my lids. “I’m not interested in playing with you.”

The light dims. “Open your eyes; I want to see them while I work.”

The word ‘work’ is like an injection of ice.

Something metallic dances across my skin, and my eyes pop open. My tormentor is gliding a jagged-edged knife up and down my arm, prodding but not breaking the skin.

He’s frowning, his lips disappearing under a bushy moustache. His lab coat fails to hide the rows of decorations on the military uniform he wears. An impressive scar snakes across his face. Starting at his left temple, it cuts across his face, over his nose, and ends in a curl at the right corner of his mouth. His eyes show a barely controlled anger, chilling me, despite the warmth of the room.

My eyes leave his face and glance around. There’s no outside window, just a mirror that probably hides a group of scientists and military officers behind it, studying my every move. A camera hangs in the corner. There’s a sink, a toilet, and lots of cupboards. And there’s a table. It’s filled with various sharp instruments, vials, and needles.

He pulls a rolling stool over to the side of the reclined metal chair and sits. He reads over a file, tapping out page turns with one hand while still running the knife over my bicep with the other. “It says you’ve been at the school for five years.”

I nod. My head feels heavy and even that slight motion is harder than it should be. His image blurs and bleeds, until there’s two of him.

He smiles. “Ah, yes. Can you feel the drug working?”

Whatever they gave me is strong. Every object I see leaks color, creating kaleidoscope trails that follow my eye movement like luminescent wings.

“Your plan was brilliant,” the military man continues. “Infiltrate us where security is weak. You thought you could slip in among the Debs and we’d never notice. Who pays attention to Debs, right?”

I don’t nod this time, but he’s right. Vals never notice a Deb unless one makes a mistake. They’d never remembered me, until I survived an oxygen leak, an explosion, and a grizzle attack. I stand out among the other Debs now for one simple reason: I survive.

The knifepoint presses into the back of my hand, digging deep, drawing blood. “So, tell me. What was your objective? To spy on our resources? To gather Intel?”

“I’m not what you think,” I say between gritted teeth. Things are less distorted now, more defined.

“Then what are you? You’re not an Orion; that’s plain enough. You look like a Deb, but you’re too strong for one, too resilient. And you’re not a Val, or this—” he lifts up the remnant of my torn sleeve where Bates had stabbed me with a knife at my trial “—would have left a scar. That leaves a spy from another planet.” His knife comes to my throat and I feel the pressure almost breaking the skin. “How have you been reporting your findings to your people?”

“I’m human,” I squeak, fear making me forget my resolve not to tell them anything.

“You lie!” The door behind me opens and a person appears in the frame. Bates. “Douglas, stand down!”

Douglas’s face flushes red, his nostrils flaring. Beside Bates is a female Val wearing a gold lab coat.

“I said, ‘Stand down, Major Douglas.’” Bates comes closer. A gun-carrying Lee follows behind him.

Douglas yanks his hand back, glaring at Bates. “I’m conducting this interview!”

“But
I’m
overseeing it. We want to study her, not just hurt her for information.”

I feel like a piece of meat being fought over by a couple of panthacats.

Douglas holds his hands in the air. “Fine.” He stands above me, scowling in a way that shows off the scar on his face even more. “Don’t think Bates saved you. Compared to what he plans, my way would be a blessing.”

I can see the truth in his eyes. I swallow hard and look away.

“We’ll start with a blood sample,” Bates says, snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

A blood sample? No! My DNA will lead them back to Ty and my parents. And then to Uncle Charlie and the resistance.

Bates takes out a needle to withdraw some of my blood. I cringe away but my restraints keep me locked in place. Still I try to sit up. I try to move at all. “No!” I kick my legs hard, the metal restraints biting into my skin.

It makes no difference. He calmly withdraws vial after vial of blood despite my attempts to break free.

When he finally pulls the needle from my arm, I’m breathless from fighting my restraints. I know I’ve grown stronger—that’s something else that’s been happening to me since the explosion—but I’m not strong enough to break the bands. I’ve cut into my skin struggling and the pain intensifies as it heals. It’s almost like all the pain I would have felt over a long period of healing is concentrated into the short time my skin mends.

Bates brings my blood samples to a workstation and drops a splatter of blood onto a scanner slide. There’s not a clock in the room so I have no idea how long he stays bent over the display, running tests and waiting for the computers to spit back their results, but it feels like days. He types things into his tablet, shaking his head and muttering to himself. The female scientist who came in with him—Cindy, I think he called her—disappeared long ago, leaving only Lee and the other Val standing guard in the corner. I really have to pee, and it’s getting harder to hold it.

“Fascinating.” Bates sits on the stool and glides himself across the room until he’s by my side again. I freeze and give him my attention. “You’ve clearly got human DNA, at least part of it. The results aren’t clear. Did they splice your genes with those of a human?”

My genes are only part human? What’s happening to me? Along with the confusion comes a wave of relief. At least they haven’t found a link to Ty and my family. “I’m human,” I say. “At least enough that I need to use the toilet. Is that permissible?”

Bates waves Lee and the other Val over. “Let her use the facilities, but watch her closely.” Bates moves back to his monitor and begins to type in more commands. Lee levels the barrel of his mag-accel right at my chest, a wicked grin on his face. I hear the electric charge building in the gun, a quiet, sustained beep that goes up in pitch until it’s too high to hear. His finger seems twitchy on the trigger, like he’s anxious for me to try something. The other Val undoes the straps and shoves me to the toilet, making no effort to be gentle. The tile floor is cold against my bare feet. For the first time, I notice I’m wearing a hospital gown. I tie it more fully around me to keep some semblance of modest. There’s no privacy at the toilet, but I can’t do anything about that, so I close my eyes and try to pretend I’m back in one of the little stalls in the dorms. As I’m finishing, an alarm sounds, and red lights flash.

Bates leaps from his chair, gathering his test results. “Get her back in the chair.” He walks the exit. “And watch this door. They might be trying to rescue her,” he shouts before he races out of the room.

Lee grabs my left arm and his companion grabs my right, though not with Lee’s painful grip. Uncle Charlie’s words ring in my head: Look for your moment to escape. This has to be it. I’ve never felt stronger. As soon as the doors slide closed, I shake my right arm free and swing my fist into Lee’s face. It hurts my knuckles, but it seems to hurt Lee even more. He stumbles back and loses his grip on me.

The other Val grabs me from behind, wrapping both arms around me. I throw my head back and feel the crunch as it impacts his nose. I throw my weight forward and flip him over my shoulder, landing him on top of Lee, who is knocked back down as he tries to stand. The mag-gun is at my feet, still fully charged. I pick it up and aim it at Lee, but before I can pull the trigger, he grabs the barrel and tries to wrench it from my hand. When the bullet explodes from the barrel, it hits the other Val in the shoulder and he collapses, clutching the bleeding wound.

After a brief struggle, I manage to pull the gun from Lee’s grip, but I know I won’t get another shot off. It only takes fifteen seconds to build up enough charge, but Lee is coming right for me. Gripping the gun by the barrel, I swing it like a club, arcing it high over my head. Lee’s hands come up too late to block it and the heavy weapon crashes down on his head, knocking him unconscious. I look at the other Val, who seems to have passed out; probably lost too much blood, but it’s not my biggest worry right now. I turn the gun around the right way and hit the charge button, but nothing happens. It must have broken something on Lee’s hard head. The lights and alarms are still raging so I hurry to the door.

I grab the gun by the barrel again, wishing I had a different weapon, but seeing nothing better to work with. With a deep breath, I lift my gun/club and push the control panel to open the doors.

I expected to find Vals guarding the doors, but no one’s there. Keeping the gun high, I step into the hallway. It’s nearly empty, but I can hear voices ricocheting from the right. I go left. Heads pop out around the doorframes and stumble back, scientists, judging by their lab coats, most of them female. I hear doors locking as I pass. It’s almost comical to me that those who used to ignore and overlook me now see me as a menacing threat, but in their brief glances, I can feel the hate directed at me. They think I’m a new kind of Musk. I’m the enemy the Orions always promised would return, a target at which to direct all their fear and anger. It might be funny if it weren’t so painful to have so much fury and disgust thrown at me.

A voice screeches over the speaker. “The alien has escaped. Use any means necessary to bring it down. Alive.”

I clutch the barrel tighter and stalk down the hallway. I get to a corner and count to three before peering around it. I find myself face to face with a Val, bald with a tattoo of a sword on his scalp. He’s holding a gun that’s pointed directly at my forehead.

“Don’t move and no one gets hurt.” His hand doesn’t even tremble. “Drop the weapon and put your hands in the air.”

The wise thing to do would be to follow his orders but sadly, no one ever told me I was smart. “I’m getting conflicting directions here. You say you’ll shoot if I move, but then you tell to drop the gun and raise my hands. Which one do you want?”

His eyes narrow; he doesn’t seem to appreciate my humor. I jump when I feel the barrel of a gun press into my back and hear the rising tone of a charge cycle.

“Careful, Carter.” I recognize Bryant’s voice. “I told you, she’s strong.”

I glance at him over my shoulder. “You know, first you turn me in for saving your life and now you’re holding a gun on me. Remind me why I saved your life.”

A look I can’t name—confusion, maybe—crosses his face before his gun digs deeper into my lower back.

“A simple thank you would have been enough.”

His eyes harden. “My friend died in that explosion you set.”

“It wasn’t me.”

Bryant looks back at the other Val. “Don’t get too close or let your guard down. And don’t get cocky.”

The bald guy—Carter, I guess—scowls but nods. His eyes roam over me as he lowers his gun slightly. “She doesn’t look scary.”

Bryant lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m sure the grizzle thought that too.”

“She couldn’t take me,” Carter says with feeling.

“I think I’d surprise you,” I say, my eyes looking for a way out of this. “If I win, will you let me go?”

Carter stifles a laugh. “Big talk for someone so small.”

“It isn’t talk if I can back it up.” I trained with my Uncle for years. He’d always had to pull his punches, barely tapping me but… they don’t need to know that.

“Shut up!” Bryant demands. “Drop the weapon and raise your hands. Slowly.”

I nod, but I remember what the voice on the speaker said; they don’t want me killed. I bend slowly at the knees, like I’m lowering the gun, then I duck quickly and swing out with the weapon, catching Carter on the side of the knees while my other hand spins to push Bryant’s barrel to the side. Carter crumbles, clutching his leg. Still holding the barrel of his gun in one hand, I spin into a wide-eyed Bryant, using my momentum to flip him over my shoulder. As he slams to the floor, he lets go of his gun and I take off running with it, amazed that my move actually worked! Charlie made me practice those moves over and over, even though I was too weak to make them work right. All that practice is finally paying off.

I skid around the corner and see a glass door with the pink light of day streaming through it. Daylight. Freedom. I sprint toward it, almost tasting the fresh air and the woods were I can lose myself among the truffs. Only a few feet more. I’m so focused on my freedom I don’t notice the Val pouncing on me from a connecting stairwell, knocking the gun away and sending my sprawling. My momentum carries us so my palm just touches the glass door and I can feel the coolness of it. So close. I almost made it. I spin around, trying to fight off the person restraining me.

I freeze, unable to understand what I see. It’s Ty.

“Why?” I ask around a broken sob.

He doesn’t answer, but drags me to my feet. I’m too stunned to fight him and he shoves me back the way I came. I catch my balance and look up. Seven or eight Vals have formed a half circle around me in the wide hall. Major Douglas stands a few paces behind them, the diagonal scar on his face making his angry sneer even more menacing. I hear the stomping of heavy feet behind me, and I turn to see a half dozen other soldiers completing the circle. Ty stands in the middle, his face an emotionless, unblinking mask.

“Teach that thing its place,” Douglas shouts. I turn in a slow circle, looking for a way out. There isn’t one and my body starts to shake. “Let’s show it what happens when it tries to escape.”

Someone must give some silent cue because at once they all press forward, the circle closing in on me, and it feels like a noose tightening around my throat.