Project Human

doesn’t. And if he has you, which seems unlikely.”

  “Jean?”

  “How can I hand you over to him?” She looked sad, distant. “I knew it was wrong the first time.”

  “Jean, what are you doing?”

  Barton saw the look she gave him. She was a mother, looking over her wounded child.

  “You were my first; my first patient; my first test of my capabilities. I cared for you like no other. I was told over and over not to get attached, but it was far too late for that. Once they decided to use you, to create you in ways that I could not, I had tried to prevent it. I wanted no part in it. Whitmere saw it. He had me removed, partially so he could run the program alone. So I was cast out. But I never left you.

  “My job was to remove your memory, to create in you something new. But I couldn’t do it. You had life in your eyes; you always spoke with a passion…you were more than just a formula on a piece of paper. I couldn’t go through with it. But I did help them change in you things. I am regretful of that. But also grateful that I had given you such weak doses, so to keep your memories, your personality, there, yet just out of their reach. I’m not like they are. It’s so clear to me now, looking back.”

  “You were there…” Barton trailed off, remembering Jean back when he was taken. In a flash the memory was gone.

  Jean stopped next to him, turning to whisper into his ear. She could hear his breathing. She could smell his sweat.

  “Looking back, I have made wrong decisions. Decisions I regret with all that I am. I am not alone, either. There are others here that believe as I do: that what they are doing to your people is wrong. We want to make up for our mistakes, doctor. We want to be healed from our pains.”

  “Jean, you can’t help me. They’ll kill you.” Barton turned to the door, making sure the guards had not heard him. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “No. This is my decision. I was there when you were taken.” Jean’s eyes watered. “I will be there when you are released.”

  Barton swallowed hard. His pulse quickened by what he saw in her eyes, by the determination in her voice.

  “You were always good to me, Jean. I thank you.”

  Jean smiled sadly. “I could have been better. But what I have lacked in the past, blinded by my ignorance and my love for my own people, I will make up for. I will help you get home. I give you my word.”

  “Jean…”

  “Sh. Nothing more needs be said.” Jean stepped aside and motioned for the guards to come and claim Barton.

  Barton turned towards her. He noticed she held something behind her as they approached. As they laid hands on him, Jean’s hands withdrew a weapon and shot them both. A sizzling sound emitted like rain on hot coals as they dropped to the ground. Instantly the door flew open and the other two guards rushed in. Jean pointed to Barton and again shot down the guards before they reached him.

  “Jean,” Barton gasped, “they’ll kill you for sure! This is treason!”

  “It is done! This has to end now!”

  Jean handed the weapon to Barton then reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. “Here. Follow this. It will lead you to the escape pods. There are instructions on how to program them. You won’t have much time.”

  “Jean…”

  “It will take some time to get used to your air.” Jean nodded with a smile. “Once you surface, open the hatch and breathe slowly. You will be fine.”

  “Surface?” Confusion filled Barton’s eyes. “Where are we?”

  “Deepest hole in your ocean floor. Have been for years. Though now I suppose things will be different.”

  Barton looked over the map. He didn’t have the words. He put it into his pocket and stared into her sad eyes. “Come with me.”

  “No,” her head shook, “I would die in less than a month. We cannot breathe your air. I must stay here.”

  “I can—” Barton began, but she cut him off quickly, seeing he wanted to help her.

  “You can take the other two with you. The male and the female are held in a room together. Whitmere has plans on transporting his blood into hers. He has no serums left to do the work. I think he’s clutching at straws, but he’ll do it, even if it kills them both. Besides, he has no choice. The Council will hand his project over to someone else in a few days if he can’t succeed.”

  “The woman is healed. She remembers.”

  Jean nodded proudly. “I saw her.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Patient’s ward. Operation room.” Jean pointed to a bed on wheels. “Lay down. I’ll wrap you up and take you there. I won’t be questioned.”

  Barton stared into her eyes. She was beautiful. He would’ve hugged her tight, but she yelled and pointed, and he obeyed.

  She placed a sheet over his body, and pushed him out of the room.

  It ends today, she thought. No matter what.

  T W E N T Y - F I V E

  Adelle watched the device lower towards her face. She kept thrashing; she would fight until the end. But Doctor Whitmere had the straps on her body so tight she could barely move at all. Even the strap across her forehead prevented her from turning to stare at Darryl.

  She screamed again. It was loud and terrible. But it didn’t wake Darryl.

  “Don’t bother doing that again,” Whitmere said just before his hand swiped across her mouth.

  It stung Adelle and she cried so. Looking up through her tears, she saw it lowering still. It was a mask-shaped mechanism lowering from the towering machine above her. Wires, tubes, and needles hung off it like hair. It would smother her head, she knew. It would be the end.

  “What did he do to you?” Whitmere asked again. He was preparing the machine to do its work, lacing tubes with a gel substance, pressing buttons, and moving hastily—angrily. “How did he change you back?”

  Adelle said nothing.

  “Keep your silence. He’ll be here soon and I’ll make him talk.” Whitmere’s angry eyes stared into hers for a moment. “I’ll get my answers from him, even if it kills him.”

  Adelle closed her eyes. She could make out the faint cry of an alarm. She could hear voices in the hall rushing past, warning others about a problem with something. She didn’t know what it was, but it was serious, and she was hoping that Barton was behind it.

  Barton, where are you?

  Whitmere’s questions had overwhelmed her for several long minutes. Darryl had passed out and shown no signs of recovering from whatever they did to him. She was alone. She was scared.

  “Darryl! Darryl wake up!” she cried again.

  “If you loved him, you’d wish him to not wake from this.” Whitmere growled.

  “Let us go!”

  “Too late for that,” Whitmere said.

  “Darryl! Darryl!”

  The device lowered just inches above Adelle’s face and stopped. She continued to scream for Darryl.

  Darryl dreamt. It was night, blackness washed everything. He ran out of the house to his car. She was chasing him, he knew without looking back. He could hear her sobbing just behind him.

  He reached the car and entered quickly. She stood at the porch steps. Her voice was like glass shattering. He fumbled through his pockets for his keys. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see her eyes, or the mess her face looked now.

  With the key in the ignition, he started the car with a thundering roar. He would leave and never return.

  He looked back to the house one last time. She wasn’t there. She was at his window. Her blonde hair covered her face. Her crying drown out the car’s engine.

  “Darryl!” she cried.

  “I have to go! Let me go!”

  “Darryl! Wait! Listen!”

  “I can’t anymore! Can’t you see that? We’re over!” Darryl yelled, still not seeing her face.

  “We can change! We can go back and be how we were. It’ll be better this time! Give us another chance!”

  She cried through her words, forcing herself to fi
nish what she had to say. “You said you don’t love me anymore. But I don’t believe you. You want it all to be easy. But it’s not. It won’t be. You have to work at things if you want them. And I can. But only if you stay. Stay Darryl. Let’s work through this.”

  She was partially right. And as much as it hurt to go, he knew he had to. Someone else could love her more. In time she would see it.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry I’ve failed you. But I have. And I don’t think anything will ever change. I need to leave…because I know you won’t.”

  Darryl wiped the tears onto his shirt, looked away as he saw her blue eyes, and threw the car in reverse. As his right foot stomped on the gas pedal, a strong wind swept over the yard. Trees shook. The grass swirled. He looked skyward. Something black hovered overhead, blocking out the stars. Something massive. Something out of a nightmare.

  She screamed.

  Darryl turned, frightened by her panic. Her head tilted back and a light began to shine on her. Darryl became frightened too.

  “Get in!”

  He kept his eyes on the monstrous thing in the sky as the passenger door opened and she jumped in.

  “Go!” she cried. “My God, what is that?!”

  Darryl slammed on the gas and backed out of the driveway onto the road. He kept his gaze up as he sped away, feeling her body press against his, feeling her shiver and cry, feeling her terror. She was talking to him, but he wasn’t listening. He saw the trees around them begin to sway and the dirt on the road begin to rise.

  It was coming after them.

  A light hit the road in front of them. She screamed. He swerved. The car raced through some loose gravel, spinning out of control. The