Specimen
Panting, I lay my cheek on the forest floor and tell myself I have to move. No matter what I do, I can’t get my legs underneath myself to push off the ground. I have to get myself up. I have to get away from wherever I am and back to Riley. Her name becomes a chant in my head.
Riley, Riley, Riley.
I keep her face in my mind as I struggle. I get my knees under my chest, but then I have to stop and catch my breath. I look around for something to grab hold of to use to pull myself up, but there is nothing within reach. The closest sapling is seven feet away, and I start shoving myself through the dirt—clawing with my hands until I reach it.
With one hand grasped around the base of the small tree, I lay in the dirt, exhausted as pain shoots through my body like a hail of bullets. My stomach tightens, and I retch. There’s nothing inside of me to vomit, but I keep dry heaving anyway. By the time the spell passes, I can only lie still and focus on breathing.
The night deepens. Small animals venture near me but quickly scamper away. I close my eyes, no longer able to hold them open. I focus on the sound of their tiny feet as they cross over logs and leaves. I can smell the withered contents of the forest floor all around me. I inhale deeply, and another scent wafts toward my nose.
It’s slightly sweet but not flowery. It’s tinged with the smell of sweat and fear but completely unmistakable.
“Riley?”
“I found him! He’s over here!”
Tears pour from my eyes as Riley kneels beside me. As soon as her hand reaches my left arm, the pain begins to subside. My body relaxes into the dirt as her other hand runs over the top of my head.
“It’s all right,” she tells me. “Everything is going to be all right. I’ve got you. I’m going to take you home, Sten.”
Despite the stroke of her fingers on my arm, I tense at the sound of her nickname for me. I’d never considered it before, but now that I know the truth, now that I know my real name, I can’t tolerate the sound of the other one.
I turn my head just enough to glare up at her. Her eyes widen as she meets my gaze.
“My name,” I say with a snarl, “is Galen Michael Braggs.”
Chapter 17
Riley stares at me.
“What did you say?” Her words come in whispered breaths.
“Galen, not Sten.”
Riley’s eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. I hear the footsteps of several people approaching, and Riley glances quickly over her shoulder.
“Shit,” she mutters.
“I know who I am,” I tell her. Speaking is hard, but it’s easier than trying to move.
“Hush now,” she whispers. She places her fingers over my lips. “Do not say that again. In fact, don’t speak at all. Understood?”
“Yes.” I stare at her, trying to reconcile her words and her expression. I expect anger, but I see mostly fear in her eyes.
I want to tell her more, but her order of silence has settled deep inside of me. It’s a comforting feeling to be commanded by her again. I succumb to it even though I know the lies behind it.
“I need to get you back to the center and treated quickly.”
She’s going to take my memories away.
I try to push myself up again and fail in the attempt. My chest hurts. It’s hard to breathe. I feel a pinch in my arm and slowly open my eyes again.
“Hang in there,” Riley says quietly as she runs her fingers over my arm. “I didn’t think I was going to find you alive.”
I see tears in the corners of her eyes, and I want to reach out to brush them away, but I can’t lift my arm. The footsteps reach us, and nine uniformed soldiers with Isaac leading them come around the trees. He jogs to my side and drops to one knee.
“Sten?”
“He’s alive,” Riley says, “but in bad shape. I need to get him back to the facility now.”
“I’ve got him.” Isaac rolls me to my back and slips his arms under my legs and shoulders. He lifts me easily and starts off through the woods.
“Air support is on the way,” one of the other soldiers calls out.
Riley follows behind. She has to run to keep up with Isaac’s strides.
“I thought I lost you both,” Isaac says quickly and out of everyone else’s range. “Where the fuck have you been?”
Captured. Tortured.
I can’t form the words. Isaac nods slowly as if he understands despite my lack of explanation.
“Well, you smell like shit.” He chuckles. “When was the last time you showered?”
He grins at me, but I can’t manage to smile back. I try to shrug my shoulders, and my mind wanders back to the cramped box of ice water.
“Bath.” I can only grunt. The word feels like disobedience. I stare up at him, willing him to comprehend as the memories flow through my head.
Isaac’s eyes darken with understanding.
“You’ll have to tell me all about it.” He shifts my weight in his arms. “Then we’ll find them and tear them to fucking shreds.”
I nod once. My head is swimming again. I keep my eyes on Riley, not wanting her out of my sight as Isaac carries me to the edge of a road. I hear the whirring of helicopter blades before I succumb yet again to darkness.
*****
Bright lights, white walls. The scene is familiar and feels like home. I’m being rolled through the hallways of the Mills medical center with Riley on one side of the gurney and Isaac on the other. I hear Dr. Rahul’s voice, telling Isaac he needs to return to his lab.
“I want to stay with him!”
“Not now,” Dr. Rahul says. “Let Dr. Grace get him stable, and then you’ll be able to see him. There’s nothing you can do for him now.”
“I could be there for him,” Isaac mumbles before he and his doctor disappear from my view.
I black out briefly, coming to inside a room full of medical equipment. Everyone around me wears scrubs, and their faces are covered with masks. I recognize Riley and Dr. McCall, but I don’t know who the others are. I close my eyes and listen to the voices, unable to distinguish between most of them.
“Where did you find him?”
“Three kilometers west of Haprin. As soon as the homing beacon activated, the guys on the wall contacted us.”
“Any idea where he’s been?”
“None. But look at the scarring. He’s been through the wringer.”
“Tortured?”
“Undoubtedly. Bastards.”
“That’s the way they are.”
“There is definite damage to the implants. See this mark? It’s from an interface chip.”
“This has Spat written all over it.”
“Do you think he managed to hack in?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Get an IV together.” Riley’s voice rises above the others. “We can’t wait for the injections to spread through the muscle. We need to get TST into his bloodstream immediately.”
“How is he even still alive?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Riley says. “Another hour and I don’t think he would have survived.”
“We got lucky.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with luck.” Dr. McCall’s shrill voice is full of grit. “They returned him to us with intent. We need armed guards around him at all times. If Spat has had access to him, he could be compromised. We may need to wipe his implants out completely.”
“Can you let me get him stable first?” Riley snaps at Dr. McCall. “In fact, I want you out of here. You can read my report later.”
“At what point did you get promoted above me? Do you think he escaped after all this time? They put him right in our path, and if you fix him up, there is no telling what kind of damage he’ll do!”
“Enough!” Captain Mills steps between the two of them. “Go on; get out of here. You aren’t helping matters at the moment.”
I hear Dr. McCall’s retreating steps and open my eyes. Captain Mills stands next to Riley as they both look me over. O
ther doctors and nurses gather around, monitoring my vitals and prepping me for surgery.
What are they going to do?
My heart pounds and my breaths come in short, staccato gasps. One of the nurses places her hand on my forehead as a mask is placed over my nose and mouth. Air is forced into my lungs, slowing my breathing and clouding my mind.
“McCall does have a point,” Mills says. “He may be compromised.”
“I realize that,” Riley replies, “but we don’t know for sure. If we wipe him out now, we’ll lose whatever information he may have learned while he was captured. He’s obviously been in contact with Errol Spat, maybe even Hudson.”
“Agreed. Keep his memories intact for the time being. We need to learn everything he knows before we take action.”
Riley places her hand on my wrist, checking the IV the nurse inserted. I turn my hand over and try to reach for her. She looks into my eyes as she places her hand on my cheek.
“Relax now,” she says softly. “I’m going to put you under and get you stable. I’ll get you healed up, and then we can talk, okay?”
I press my face against her palm. It’s all the movement I can muster. My nose tingles with a strange scent coming from the mask around my face. My body feels heavy. Riley’s face above me blurs, and I am plunged into darkness.
*****
Riley says I’ve been out for three days. I don’t remember waking up or dreaming at all during that time. I do remember what happened to me, though, and I still remember who I am and how I got here.
In fact, I remember everything. I remember my childhood and my family. I know every detail of the farm where I grew up and later tended the land. I recall my father’s voice as he regaled me with stories while we tilled the fields. I remember him telling me I was the only son in the family and the oldest child, and that position held meaning.
I don’t want to forget.
Riley has been fussing over me since I woke up. I’ve been injected so many times, I half expect my arms to start spouting like a fountain. My head is clear now, and Riley says the levels of the drugs in my system are nearly back to normal. I honestly don’t know what I think about that, but at least I feel strong again.
I know Riley has a thousand questions for me, but she hasn’t asked anything yet. I wonder if she can read through the information in my implants and learn it all without me ever opening my mouth. I wonder if she already has.
“Do you think you can get up?” she asks.
“Pretty sure.” I sit up slowly, glad the dizziness and nausea seem to be gone. I swing my legs to the side of the bed and stand. I can tell my muscles are a little weak because my legs are shaky, but I don’t feel like I’m going to fall.
“You need a haircut.” Riley reaches up and runs her hand through my hair and then over my face. “A shave, too. Do you want to get in the shower? I’ll be right there with you.”
“Yeah, okay.” I remember Isaac’s comment about how bad I smelled and chuckle to myself.
I stand in the stream of water with my head tilted up and my eyes closed, welcoming the warmth. After I rinse and dry myself, Riley looks me over.
“The scars on your legs—what are those from?”
“Nails, I think.” I reach down and rub the spot on my left thigh. “I couldn’t really see what they were using.”
Riley bites down on her lip, and I reach out to touch her cheek.
“I’m okay now,” I tell her.
“I can’t believe they did that to you. We have a debriefing with everyone in an hour to go over what happened to you, but I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“They want to know what happened. Dr. McCall is convinced they got to you somehow, bypassed all the security in your implants to turn you into some kind of spy for the Carson Alliance.”
Riley pauses and glances at the mirror. When she meets my eyes again, her stare is intense.
“There are still guards posted outside the door,” she says, “and probably a dozen more in the room behind the mirror, monitoring you. The techs say there’s no way to break through the implant’s safeguards, but it may take some convincing.”
I blink as I take in her expression. She’s warning me. She wants to make sure I know someone is listening to us right now, and I need to be careful about what I say. I’ve not mentioned my name or anything else about me since she first found me. She has no idea how much I know, and she’s warning me not to tell her now.
“They didn’t get into the implants,” I say. “At least, not in that way. I think they were trying, but Spat couldn’t make it work.”
“He was there? You saw him?”
“He was.”
Riley rubs her temple and thinks for a moment before she glances at the clock on the wall.
“It’s almost time,” she says. “Let me check one more thing.”
She takes me by the hand and leads me over to the cabinet by the sink and shower. She crouches and starts to shuffle through the clothing in the bottom, motioning me to crouch with her.
“Listen to me carefully,” Riley says quietly. “When you are asked questions, you will tell them everything that happened to you, but you are not to mention any information regarding your identity or anything that could lead to that information. Understood?”
I nod.
“Something isn’t right here,” she mutters before she pulls a blue shirt out of the cabinet and stands. “Put this one on. I’m pretty sure Colonel Mills is going to be there, and I like this color on you.”
She smiles sweetly as she hands me the shirt. I take it from her, dress quickly, and follow her out of the lab.
She is right about the guards. There are six of them, and they follow along as we head to a part of the medical center I haven’t been to before. We enter a large conference room already filled with people. I sit in the chair Riley points out to me, and she sits beside me.
Isaac and Dr. Rahul enter the room and sit opposite us. There are other doctors there I haven’t met before as well as several members of the technical team. I am not introduced to any of them, and they already know who I am. A few minutes later, Captain Mills and Colonel Graham Mills walk in and take the two seats at the head of the table.
I’m nervous. I have no idea what is expected of me in a setting like this, and I’m afraid I will slip up and say something about my identity. Then I realize Riley has given me a direct order not to speak of such things.
She did that on purpose.
There is no way I can accidentally divulge anything about my past. I look over at her, but she is focused on her tablet. If she were lying all this time about how I got here, why would she intentionally help me hide it now?
“You doing okay?”
I glance at Isaac. No one else knows he’s spoken.
“Better,” I tell him in the same manner.
“They really did a number on you,” he says.
“They aren’t the only ones,” I murmur back.
“What do you mean?”
I look straight at him.
“How do you think you got here?” I ask.
He looks at me quizzically. I’m playing a dangerous game, and I know it. I can’t actually say anything to him while under the influence of Riley’s command, but I want him to know what I know. I want him to know we didn’t volunteer for anything.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
I don’t get a chance to say anything else before the meeting begins.
“Specimen Seventy-Two,” Captain Mills says as she looks at me, “we have already heard Fourteen’s account of the mission. I want you to start from the moment you broke away from the other specimens.”
I take one last look at Isaac before I take a deep breath.
“I disengaged from the group and went back to verify we were not being followed,” I say. “I discovered later that I had been hit with a tracking device and that my implant was compromised. I was compelled to backtrack, whi
ch is when I was captured.”
I recount everything from my capture and subsequent torture. They are primarily interested in the presence of Errol Spat and Anna Jarvis. Most of the doctors take notes as I speak, and a few of them ask me questions. Riley doesn’t take notes and says nothing. When I glance at her, I have the impression she’s barely keeping herself together as I tell them what I went through.
I say nothing about my conversation with Merle regarding my identity, and I don’t bring up Hal at all. I simply skip seamlessly from one point to the next until I get to the part of the story where Riley finds me.
“What was the name of the man who came to speak to you?” It’s the first time Colonel Mills has spoken to me.
“Merle, sir,” I say as I look him in the eye. “He never gave me a last name.”
“Merle Hudson,” Captain Mills says. “He is still alive.”
“Hudson?” I look between each of the Mills officers, and they both nod.
“Peter Hudson’s cousin,” Colonel Mills says. “He was a dean at Carson University before the comet struck. We’ve had conflicting intelligence over the years concerning his activities and whereabouts, including rumors of his death.”
The technical team asks for clarification on Errol Spat’s activities in my presence, and I answer them as best I can. When they’re finished, Captain Mills questions me about my escape.
“I don’t have much memory of it,” I tell her. “Spat said my implants were failing, and Jarvis said I was going to die.”
“Why didn’t they just let you die?” Dr. McCall sits up straight in her seat and glares at me. “They could have dissected you, had plenty of time to hack into your implants, and learned everything you were unable to tell them yourself.”
“Those implants can’t be hacked,” one of the techs points out. “If an attempt is made, they self-destruct.”
“If anyone knows a way around that design, it’s Spat. We have no idea if he created backdoors for himself.”
“Of course he did. What tech doesn’t?”