Chapter Twenty-one

John

John was meditating as he heard the lock to his cell slid open, followed by the door. He opened his eyes to see two masked men enter, pointing their rifles at him. He recognized them from before.

"Come with us," the taller man ordered.

John stood and pushed away from the wall. They didn't bother cuffing or blindfolding him this time. One of the men led the way down the hall while the other followed behind John, his gun pointed at his back.

"Don't get any ideas," he growled as he jammed the muzzle into John's ribs.

He had many ideas of what he'd like to do to these two, but he'd play along.

"I'm not going to fight you," he said.Not yet.

"Smart, now move."

They walked in the opposite direction than they'd come in, and John discreetly scanned through the doors and walls they walked by. He saw the cell he thought had housed the senator. It was empty.

John didn't have time to wonder where the man was as they walked into a much larger room containing a desk. Four men without masks, in lab coats, sat behind it. In the far corner was a large cage, inside of which stood a middle-aged man who looked pissed.

"Let me out of here this minute," the guy yelled at the men behind the desk.

John recognized that voice as the man who'd declared himself to be a senator, and the fancy suit he was wearing was more evidence he likely was.

"Put that one over there," one of the lab coats said, pointing at a second cell.

"Move," the guard ordered John, who did as he was told. Fighting back wouldn't get him anywhere right now. He'd save his energy for when it mattered.

That's when he noticed six cages scattered around the room, and it wasn't long before he discovered why. Soon after he was locked in, another prisoner was brought in and one by one, all six prisoners were locked into individual cages.

John looked over at the young boy, who was shaking in fear. He wished he could somehow comfort him, but he was too far away to even speak to him. These fuckers were going to pay for the terror they were causing.

More guards came in, and John found it odd they were all masked, when the guys behind the desk weren't. He heard the familiar voice again, and as the man spoke louder, John figured it out. Hedidknow him. It was Kevin, the dishwasher at Gator's bar. He'd moved to town around the same time as John, and they'd conversed when he'd stopped by the bar for dinner on his way up to his apartment.

That fucker was working with the Noah Group. Maybe that was why the guards were wearing masks: they were all moles sent into their towns to get close to them. They wouldn't want to be identified.

Well, Kevin could get the fuck out. He'd been rumbled by someone cleverer than him.

"I'm Dr. Smith," one of the men in the lab coats announced.

Yeah, right, Smith, sure. How about Jones or White?

"As prior subjects, you must be categorized before further testing is conducted."

"Subjects? What subjects?" the senator asked.

"Some of you might not be aware of the specific set of genes you carry, but rest assured each of you has been identified as subjects in the genetic experiments conducted by our founder, Dr. Isabelle Noah."

Dr. Smith appeared to be the group's chosen spokesperson, but John wasn't certain he was the person in charge.

"Experiments?" the middle-aged woman asked. "I haven't been part of anything strange."

"Oh, but you have, my dear Lydia. All will be explained to you in time, but rest assured our information on each of you is accurate. The process was done in utero or prior to implantation into your gestation host."

"You mean our DNA was messed with?" she exclaimed in horror.

"In some ways, you could say each of you was created for a specific reason. You are all tools, and it's time to reveal your purpose," Smith said. "And how it can be used to our benefit."

"Why the bars and guns?" asked another man who looked to be in his twenties.

John took stock of all the victims. He refused to think of them as subjects. There was the young boy and older woman who'd been in cells on either side of John, then there was the senator, the middle-aged lady, and this twenty-something man.

"For our safety as well as yours, Darren," Smith assured.

The young man sneered. "Yeah, right. I'm not drinking the Kool-Aid, buddy."

"It matters very little what you do and don't believe," the doctor continued. His condescending tone was wearing on John. "You will be tested all the same."

"How the hell do you think you can get away with kidnapping all of us?" the senator snapped.

"Senator Raleigh, you'd be amazed at our power and reach. I'd also advise you to remember your continued good health is completely dependent on our goodwill."

Threats, threats, and more threats. That seemed to be the name of the game around here.

"How can I be of any use to you? I'm seventy-three years old and can barely walk without my cane or see without my glasses," the older woman stated.

"Mrs. Greer, you all have a place here with us. Consider us your new family. Trust me. Together, we can accomplish things you've only dreamed of."

"Yeah, you use us to get what you want. Power, money—sounds all too familiar. That's your kind of family values," Raleigh sneered at Smith. He gripped the bars and gave Smith a "fuck you" gesture.

Smith smiled, his hand barely moving, and the cage bars snapped with electricity, sending Raleigh flying into the center of his cage.

"That is a warning. While discussion is allowed, disrespect is punished. You will learn to behave as you're told or suffer the consequences," Smith said. "Now, let's begin with identification."

Raleigh lay groaning in pain, holding his hand to his chest. The distinct scent of burning flesh filled the air, and John instinctively backed away from the bars surrounding him.

Smith took a file from one of the other men in lab coats and stepped toward the young boy's cage. The frail boy was curled up into a fetal ball in the center of his cage, burying his face into his knees.

"This is specimen X," Smith said to the other people in lab coats. "He was found living on the streets after having escaped his assigned caretakers during a fire in their house." He gestured to the cage. "Open the cell."

A guard unlocked the door, and Smith walked in.

"Don't hurt him, please," John begged.

Smith looked over at John and smiled. "Welcome, John. I'm glad you're here. The last fool I sent to fetch you was no good, so I'm glad we had a backup plan." He turned to the young boy. "And I can assure you,heis much more dangerous to me than I am to him."

The doctor pulled what looked to be a thick band of metal from his coat pocket and slid it onto the boy's shaking wrist. He didn't move to fight back. The band lit up and appeared to shrink to fit his slender wrist. Smith walked back out of the cage, and the door was relocked.

He then walked over to Mrs. Greer's cage, pulled out another band, and ordered, "Hold out your wrist." Simultaneously, a guard pointed his gun at her head.

Mrs. Greer looked at the guard and slowly raised her arm. Smith placed the band on her wrist. It lit up and shrunk to fit her size. The doctor went on to do the same thing to each of the other prisoners except John.

Walking up to John's cage, Smith flipped through the paperwork in his file. "Your supposed ability isn't dangerous to anyone. You'll be easy to control. If you get out of hand, we will punish the boy, as you have shown an affinity toward him. That will be more powerful than any measure I place on you."

Fucking asshole.

"Now, I will show what you can expect from the keepers I've placed on your wrists."

With a nod of Smith's head, all five prisoners cried out in pain, clutching their wrists. The young boy's eyes widened in terror as he clawed at the band.

"Stop it!" John yelled and he grabbed onto the bars of his cage. "You bastard, stop it!"

Suddenly, his cage lit up with electricity, burning his palms and flinging him to the ground. He knew what was coming next as his breathing shallowed, and his lungs fought for air. The wheezing in his chest worsened as he desperately tried to suck in a breath of oxygen.This is how I'm going to die, lying in the middle of a fucking cage.Sorry, Stryker. Looks like there'll be no more dates for us. I tried to hold on.

He heard the door of his cage open but was too far gone to see who entered. Suddenly, he felt a warmth envelop his chest and lungs as a lightness filled his body. In disbelief, he took his first unencumbered breath since the day he'd been shot. John opened his eyes to find Mrs. Greer kneeling beside him, her hands on his chest. As he sucked in a deep, cleansing breath, he watched as a guard approached and pulled her off. She was dragged back to her cage, and John was left struggling to understand what had happened.

"I allowed her to save your life," Smith said smugly. "Perhaps that will show you we aren't quite as heartless as you think we are." He waved a hand to the guards. "Take them back to their cells but leave the senator. We'll begin with him."

When he returned to his cell, John went to the wall that separated him from the young boy. He scanned the room, finding the boy curled up in the same corner.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and the boy raised his hand to the wall. John put his palm up to it on his side. "If it's the last thing I do, I'll get you out of here. I have friends who will come for us."

John felt the same warmth on his palm as the first time they spoke. "Do you have a name?" It was sick for those people to refer to him as Specimen X—he deserved a proper name Perhaps he too had been born in a test tube. The thought of his own origins still horrified him.

The boy shook his head.

"Do you know a name you'd like?"

Again, he shook his head.

"My dad was called Frank. He died when I was a teenager. Do you like that name?"

The boy lifted his head for the first time and looked directly at John through the wall with the most striking green eyes he'd ever seen. He watched as they changed color to blue. Could the boy see through things as well?

"May I call you Frank?" John asked.

The boy nodded.

"Well then, Frank, I'd be honored if we could be family," John said.

The young boy smiled and sealed their fates with that small act—John wasn't going anywhere without Frank.