Perfection Page 8

  Rein joined him, and the old man’s full lips curled, deepening his wrinkles and exposing missing front teeth. Sweat beaded at the hair-line where his grey dreadlocks hung in clumps around his head, and his dark skin glowed under the fluorescent lights. He lifted a wrinkled hand and put it on Rein’s shoulder.

  “How is our guest?” he mumbled, as if speech further tired him.

  “She’s awake.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I’m not so sure I am.”

  “Why?”

  “I think I made a mistake. Her being here can expose us all.”

  Jordan cackled. “You did right, bringing her here.”

  “She’s not talking.”

  “Great, not only is she using our limited resources, but she is refusing to give us information. That’s the reason you brought her here, wasn’t it, Rein?”

  Rein swiveled around on the bench at the sound of Woody’s voice.

  Woody toted a small wooden crate, filled with ammo, over to Jordan. His ash-blond hair was darkened by the sweat running from his hairline down the side of his face.

  He stared pointedly at Rein before setting the crate down in front of their leader. “This is the last.”

  Jordan pulled out a small box containing Remington SPC rounds. “Put the rest next to my pallet. I’ll distribute it later.” His black eyes rested on Rein as he handed him the ammo. “Tell our contact.”

  “We’re scheduled to meet in a few days.”

  “Good.” Jordan started to stand. Rein jumped up and helped the old man to his feet. “And don’t worry about the girl. I trust your judgment.”

  Rein smiled, though he didn’t feel he deserved the compliment. If he was wrong, he had risked everyone’s life for nothing. The settlement founded after the Nazis had invaded would fall after all these years. He had known the chances, the possible danger, and he’d ignored the safety of the others because of a gut instinct. And, judging by the way Woody looked at him, his friend believed the same. His grey eyes flashed accusations every time he looked at Rein, like now.

  “Would you stop it?” Rein asked, as he watched the old man walk away.

  “Stop what?” Woody blinked innocently.

  “You know what.”

  Sighing, he held his hands up as if in surrender. “Look, Rein, we’ve been best friends since we were kids. I’m telling you she is dangerous.”

  “I know. You keep reminding me.”

  Rein left the hall, doubt tugging at every fiber of his being. Only this doubt came with fair skin framed with white hair and sky-blue eyes that bore holes into him.

  12

  Dr. George Hirch entered the experiment room with Leland at his side. Light reflected off the glass cubicles that divided the room, and bounced off the white-tiled floor. Several assistants were busy within the cubicles, where they sat at tables across from his creations.

  Sensing his approach, platinum blond heads turned, and four sets of intelligent, azure eyes settled on the doctor as the door closed behind him with a snick. His children were beautiful, like angels—lean, muscular, flawless complexions, hair the color of purity.

  George waved, indicating for them to continue with their lessons. All at once, as if connected by a string, they focused their attention back on the assistants.

  “Come, Leland.” He paused at the first door, marked Subject 64, and watched Micah. The nineteen-year-old held out his hands and took a silver box. The doctor pushed the red button of the speaker located next to the door.

  “What do you see, Micah?” asked the soft voice of the assistant. Dressed in the mandatory lab coat, the assistant leaned toward the young man. Long yellow locks flowed down her back.

  Micah’s eyes were closed while he ran his fingers along the box. He turned it over in his hands and felt along the other side. “A female in a black dress. She is crying. Tears are falling down her face. She’s holding a picture of a male—her husband. She places the picture in this box with a wedding ring.” He handed it back to the assistant.

  “Good, Micah. Now, what about this one?” She handed him a torn piece of material. Blood spotted the cloth.

  “Is that—”

  “Shh.” George held his hand up to Leland’s face.

  Again, Micah closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb over the material. When he opened them, his expressionless gaze rested on George. “It belongs to Ellyssa,” he said, his voice monotone. “There is green—tall trees, plants, shrubbery. They are streaking by in a blur. She is cold. So very cold. And, she is hurt.” The boy’s face briefly twitched as if he could feel her pain.

  “She is searching for something. Kansas City.” Micah’s gaze flicked back to George. “And she is muttering something about you.”

  The boy’s strong jaw clenched and unclenched as his stare bored into the doctor. The tiny hairs on the back of George’s neck stood erect. He handed the material back to the woman. “Why is that, der Vater?”

  George looked around the room. All eyes, including those of the assistants, were on him. He faced Micah. “I do not know.”

  “Why would she run in the first place?” Micah asked.

  “Until we find her, Micah, I am unable to perform the necessary tests for diagnosis.” Doctor Hirch opened the door and went over to Micah. “Can you tell me why she has chosen Kansas City?”

  “Kansas City is not her destination any longer. She seems to be lost.”

  “Where is she going?”

  “Der Vater, you know I cannot see any farther than when the item was last with the owner.”

  George placed his hand on Micah’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome.”

  “Continue with your lessons.” He closed the door behind him.

  “What now?” Leland mumbled.

  “We wait.”

  Doctor Hirch went to the next cubicle marked Subject 71. Xaver stood at the back of the cubicle as a walnut-sized metal ball was launched at him. His rounded face was relaxed, nonchalant, as if bored. The ball stopped midair, as if it had hit an invisible barrier, and fell to the ground. Red digital numbers displayed 500 over smaller letters that read, “meters per second.”

  “Truly remarkable,” whispered Leland.

  “Yes,” said the doctor. “The next test will be with bullets.”

  Leland shook his head. “He’s only fourteen.”

  “Age is irrelevant.”

  “But…what about his safety? The experiment as a whole?”

  The doctor’s steely gaze settled on his assistant. “You are questioning me?”

  “No, it’s just…” Leland stepped back.

  “May I remind you, my authority is not to be challenged by the likes of you.”

  “I understand,” Leland responded, dropping the doctor’s stare.

  George watched him for a moment longer, then stepped past him, ignoring the empty cubicle marked Subject 62 and stopping at Subject 67. Ahron stood with his back toward the wall. His thin, boyish frame was filling out nicely—baby fat had turned into chiseled features and a barrel chest. He was bigger and broader than Micah, even though he was three years younger.

  His cubicle was set-up like Xaver’s. Instead of balls, disks with sharpened edges were projected at the boy at regular intervals. George glanced at Leland, who watched, transfixed, as the boy flickered, then solidified. A disk quivered, embedded halfway into the wall behind him.

  “Bullets next for him, too?” He did a poor job hiding his contempt.

  “I think it would be appropriate.”

  Leland lifted a shoulder. “It just seems dangerous.”

  “Any weaknesses must be dealt with now, not at a critical time. It is why I created them.”

  He went to the very last cubicle. Aalexis—George’s pride and joy—sat at the table across from her trainer. Blocks of various shapes and sizes had been placed in a straight line. The young girl’s face displayed no emotion, but danger flashed in her eyes.

  “Aalex
is, just finish the training and then you may return to your room.”

  “I said, ‘no’.”

  “Why won’t you cooperate?” The nervous woman turned toward the doctor and shrugged.

  Aalexis crossed her arms over her chest. “I told you, I am bored.”

  “Stack the blocks and you may leave.”

  “No,” she said, her voice flat. Her forehead bunched, and the trainer’s chair flew backward.

  The woman toppled to the ground. Her scream cut short as her head bounced off the tile. The trainer didn’t move.

  “Aalexis!” George’s stern tone hid the surprise. “You will stop.”

  The young girl stood and faced her creator. “As you wish, der Vater.”

  The doctor slid the door back. “Call the infirmary,” he said to Leland as he entered. His assistant closed his mouth and nodded.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, before he realized his inappropriate reaction. Straightening his jacket, he buried his shock and composed himself, bringing to the forefront a calm demeanor for them to witness. He cleared his throat. “What are you doing?” he repeated.

  “What I was trained to do,” the young girl said. Her voice held no fluctuation. Her arms remained defiantly locked across her chest.

  “You were never trained to attack people without orders.”

  “We were trained to respond to anger. I will not be subjected to any more tests.”

  “Go to your room.”

  “As you wish.” The thirteen-year-old passed two interns as she walked away without glancing back.

  George knelt next to the unconscious woman and lifted an eyelid. Then he ran his fingers through her hair until he found the lump forming on the side of her head. “She has a minor head injury. Watch her for signs of a concussion.”

  “Yes, sir,” the intern responded.

  The interns placed the trainer on the gurney and wheeled her away.

  After they left, George addressed his assistant. “I want a full personality profile done on Aalexis. Do not have her practice for the next few days.”

  “What’s happening?” Leland asked.

  “I am not sure.”

  George scanned the other cubicles, but the rest of the children acted as if no altercation had happened just few feet away. Their young faces showed no sign of interest, as other children would have.

  As expected, nothing fazed them.

  13

  “Hey. Are you awake?”

  Doc’s whispery voice grabbed hold of Ellyssa and yanked her from sleep. The older man hovered directly above her. Next to him stood Rein. His green eyes narrowed as he leered at her.

  Feeling trapped, she tried to jump up but, like before, vises held her into place. Not as easily, though. Rein’s face twisted in effort.

  “Stop it, Rein.”

  “She just tried to attack us.”

  “No, we startled her.”

  Rein released her and stepped back.

  A reassuring smile graced the doctor’s lips. “It’s okay. I brought you something to drink.” Doc grabbed a glass from the tray. It was filled with watery orange liquid. “It’s your lucky day. Orange juice.” He helped prop her up and handed her the cool glass.

  Ellyssa sipped while Doc removed the bandages. His eyes widened as his fingers ran over her wound. Only a small amount of discomfort accompanied the pressure.

  “Hmm? It’s healing faster than I would’ve expected. The gash is already closing up without the aid of stitches. I don’t even think it’s going to scar.” Confusion crossed Doc’s face. “Does this hurt?” He applied more pressure.

  Ellyssa brought the glass down. The pain was still there, but was not too bad. She shook her head.

  “Can you feel it?”

  She nodded.

  “Is it at all uncomfortable?”

  Shrugging one shoulder, the corner of her mouth twitched.

  He pressed again. “A little bit?”

  She nodded once.

  “It’d be a lot easier if you would talk.”

  She polished off her juice and held the glass out to him.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Her eyes widened, and she nodded with more enthusiasm.

  “I’ll get you something.” He hesitated, looking at Rein.

  “As long as she stays in the bed, I won’t touch her.”

  Doc raised an eyebrow.

  “I promise. Okay?”

  The doctor walked toward the opening. Before he stepped out, he glanced back.

  Frustrated, Rein waved his hands. “Just go.”

  “I’m trusting you,” he said, and disappeared into the corridor.

  Ellyssa listened to the fading steps, her gaze turning toward Rein. He watched her with the same amount of intensity and distrust. His eyes raked over her, scrutinizing her, and his jaw clenched so tightly the tendons in his neck jerked. Tensing, Ellyssa scooted against her pillow.

  She grasped for his mind and saw herself through his confusion, wondering who she was and why she was there. Although still frail-looking, and her hair comparable to a bird’s nest, her complexion was creamy again. Her strength was returning, and if needed, she could defend herself. His mind kept flashing to the night in the old store.

  Never taking his eyes off her, Rein grabbed a chair and rolled it to the end of her cot, then took a seat. His arms, once again, crossed over his chest showing his tenseness, his distrust. He was much younger than she’d originally thought. Twenty, maybe twenty-one. Tanned, angular cheekbones, a straight nose, strong jawline, and hair that was a mess. Completely different than the males at The Center, Ellyssa found his dark features fascinating, attractive in a barbaric sort of way.

  Her heart pattered.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  He blew out air and rubbed his temple. “Why are you here?” he tried again.

  When she didn’t respond, he ran his fingers through his brown hair. “You’re rather irritating.”

  Ellyssa’s brow rose slightly.

  “You’ve been here for almost a week. We’ve fed you, Doc healed you.”

  She stared at him.

  “Look, are others coming?” Rein asked. “None of us want to hurt you, but we will if it comes to that.” When she didn’t answer, he rose to his feet and hovered threateningly over the end of the bed.

  In less than a heartbeat, Ellyssa’s training came to the forefront. No emotion, only self-preservation. Her muscles tightened, waiting to respond at a moment’s notice. If Rein attacked, she would kill him.

  Unmoving, they glared at each other. Then Rein threw his arms in the air and plopped back down in the chair. The wheels squeaked under his weight.

  The threat removed, Ellyssa eased back. Warily watching him, she reached into his mind. Although Rein’s face read anger, his insides felt worry, fear, and uncertainty for his friends and family. He couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to them. He cared for them.

  She’d never cared for anybody, nor had the emotion been reciprocated. Not by her siblings. Especially not by her father. To him, she was nothing more than a disposable weapon.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He wheeled his chair over to the side of her bed. “Did you say something?”

  “Yes, they will send others to find me,” she answered, a bit more loudly.

  He frowned. “Are you from Germany?”

  Ellyssa thought that to be a strange question. “No. Why?”

  “Your accent.”

  She shrugged.

  “Hmm,” he said, leaning forward. “Are you part of a search team?”

  “No. I escaped.”

  He leaned closer. “You escaped?”

  Rein’s closeness was unexpected. She could feel heat radiating off him. Strangely, her heartbeat quickened. She nodded.

  “From where?”

  “From The Center.”

  Disbelief slackened his jaw, and he scratched the side of his head as
if perplexed by an unanswerable question. “The Center? In Chicago? Are you kidding me?”

  Ellyssa shook her head.

  The next instant, fury contorted Rein’s features as he rose to his feet. He reached for her, but she was already on her feet on the opposite side of the cot. Blinking in surprise, he turned and stalked to the doorway.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” Rein asked. “What I’ve done?”

  Waves of dizziness sloshed in Ellyssa’s head from the sudden movement. Her muscles, not expecting the rush of adrenaline, trembled. Her vision swam, and her stomach tossed uncomfortably. She staggered back.

  Closing his eyes, Rein ran his hand down his face. “I’m not going to do anything. Get back into bed before you hurt yourself and get me in trouble with Doc.”

  Ellyssa edged closer until her knee touched the cot. She wanted to see his true intentions, but the jackhammer had returned and ricocheted inside her skull.

  “Please, lie down.”

  She hesitated for a second before doing what he asked. The scratchy canvas was welcoming, but the bed seemed to rock.

  Rein stayed on the other side of the room, occasionally looking at her, mostly pacing. Ellyssa watched his blurry figure through slitted lids until she heard the doctor’s footfalls.

  Doc entered the room and stopped, his gaze jerking back and forth between them. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Your patient found her voice.”

  The older man’s mouth puckered. “Oh, really.”

  “She’s from The Center. They’ll come for her.”

  Doc sat in the chair Rein had abandoned and leaned over with his hands clasped in front of him. “Are you part of a search team?”

  Skeptical, Ellyssa didn’t answer.

  The doctor patted her hand. This time she didn’t withdraw. “Hon, no one is going to hurt you. We have to know.”

  Rein paced behind the chair where the doctor sat, glowering at her as if she were a dangerous animal, worthy to be locked away in a cage. They had no clue how dangerous she could be. “She says she isn’t,” he interrupted.