Chapter 1
(Marcus)
Marcus held the child in his arms and attempted to fight the shock that overcame him. The lights flickered as if in rhythm to the infant’s cries. It had to be the temperature. He spent his life in this cellar and didn’t notice the cold anymore but this thing did. She was shivering and getting louder.
His mind flashed to the bomb he attached to the house. It would go off soon, but now he had a reason to stop it. The new hope he had of correcting his mistake seared through him like a flash. Maybe he could save his soul? He wasn’t sure if he believed in such things, but this had to be a sign. When his patient was well, all she talked about was signs and fate. Was this her final gift to him?
It had to be. Why else would this have occurred? After twenty-eight weeks in the womb here the sign was, squirming with life and screaming at the top of its lungs. She was small but strong, a reality that hadn’t occurred since he decided to breed his subjects. How else could something so tiny have survived the injection meant to euthanize its life, minutes before her birth?
This had to be the last attempt at finding the correct gene sequence. After two years of forcing his patient into pregnancies and Caesarians without her knowledge or consent, he gave in to the remorse that he so desperately tried to keep at bay. It wouldn’t be easy, but he could fix it.
Hesitantly, he shifted his attention to his patient, who lay on the operating table, her body motionless and her flesh exposed to the bacteria in the air. He reached down to stroke her cheek and stared at the woman he had married a few decades ago. What would she say if she had been conscious over the years to witness the atrocities he committed in the name of science?
Her eyes were the thing that he loved the most about her. They were gray like ice, but bright and shone like stars against her dark hair. He needed to look into them once upon a time, and everything in his world made sense.
His assistant moved about the room behind him, examining the child. “Don’t.” He ordered over the sound he knew well. The infant wouldn’t survive another injection; he was sure of that too.
“It’s best to do this quickly Marcus.” The voice behind him was fraught with confusion and alarm.
He shook his head and kept his back to him. “That’s the last child Blaine.” He said to himself, for the most part. Doing this to her was harder each time.
“She’ll do just fine,” Marcus kept his back to his assistant and his gaze on his wife. It would be peaceful; at least he could promise her that. “Give me the syringe.”
He said the command before he could stop himself, already feeling the remorse slipping away with every breath he took. These flickers of emotion were hard to come by, and when they left, it was as if they never came.
Desperately, he tried to recall her eyes again, but the nothingness inside of him threatened to claim victory over his soul. He had to act fast and couldn’t hesitate much longer.
“Are you sure about this?” Blaine was close enough to touch him now, the change in mood tangible at the prospect of taking away the source. It made sense; his assistant was as eager to tamper with nature as he had once been. “We’re not on a time crunch… what if this specimen doesn’t survive?”
“This one will.” The infant was stable enough. He was more surprised than his assistant; the sequence worked this time but his satisfaction wouldn’t stay long. Acting now was the only thing he could do to curb the temptation.
His wife lay in bed like she had the last few years of their marriage; unmoving and unknowing of everything he put her through. The woman was a saint and didn’t know it, but even in her state, she saved him again. “Don’t argue with me, I won’t say it again.”
He turned to the man he once considered his best friend. Blaine’s reddened face matched his red hair and illuminated his sharp blue eyes. He stood with his shoulders hunched; his stick thin fingers interlaced and his thin-lipped mouth, open a bit. He wasn’t a tall man or a short one, but Marcus towered over him, daring him to argue.
Blaine was like the rest of them; greedy and overly curious, just as he had once been himself. His assistant had no idea what he helped the government create and it was pitiful that Blaine would think for one moment that he could keep such a large counter operation from him. Were it not for the fact that he needed his assistant to cooperate, he would have killed him months ago. This was it; his last shot at fighting whatever it was the United States Government seemed to be creating behind his back using his ideas.
“Perhaps we should slow down… take some time and think it over?” Blaine pleaded again, his deep voice shrill with desperation.
It was hard not to laugh at his idiocy. His assistant could try for years if he wished, but Marcus would never tell him the gene sequence and his assistant would never figure it out either. It would die with him and the rest would die at the hands of the child in the glass bassinet. In some ways, she would be the most humane project he ever decided to take on.
Desperately, he kept his silence and lifted his wife’s limp hand to remove the cap of her IV. As he inserted the needle into the tube, another sharp pang entered his heart; stubbornly, he pushed it away and thanked her one last time for being the thing that pushed him to do what was right.
The monitor echoed through the room as her blood pressure began to drop. He could feel her pulse vibrate through his hand as it quickened and then grew faint. Her labored breathing was quiet but seemed to command the lights as they flickered above them. It was difficult to watch, but after what seemed like a lifetime she settled and the sound of his wife’s final breath, a whisper in his heart.
“I’ll take care of the body. Get the specimen cleaned up and be careful.” He instructed his assistant. “She’s at her most infectious state right now.”
“I’ll have tests run right away. What would you like to call this one?”
“Daphne,” Marcus answered; his voice soft but firm. “After her mother.”
Marcus kept his gaze on his daughter and was silent as Blaine removed the child from the laboratory. Any feeling in his heart left as if it never were. He would have to find a way to remove as much plasma from his wife’s body as possible and find a place to bury her, but first, he would have to disarm the bomb.
(Eight Years After)
(Sarah)
Sarah tried her best not to focus on the hollow feeling she had inside as she lay on the cold metal table, her limbs strapped down and her back aching. The fluorescent lights that hung above her seemed brighter today, Its white glow reflecting off of the beakers and the computer screen Doctor Stone kept in the corner. Even the dull, gray cement walls seemed to brighten against the light.
She did her best to stifle the sigh that wanted to escape her mouth as Doctor Stone approached her next. The syringe he held in his hand taunted her like it always did. She opened her mouth and waited for the sting.
Then it came, a small burning in the vein of her tongue. Over the years, she had gotten used to feeling it but could never get over his eyes. The Doctor wasn’t looking at her, but she saw the flat, listless look in the pools of blue that didn’t do much to complement his strong jaw and high cheekbones.
She looked away before he could catch her staring. That was close.
Sarah forced her impatience down as the Doctor started to unstrap them.
Her body began to tingle when Doctor Stone dismissed them for the day. The spot in her mouth pierced by the needle stung like it always did, but she couldn’t remember feeling like this before. Now it felt as if the cold in the laboratory was seeping into her skin and touching the bones in her back.
The radio played at the low volume, but the newscaster sounded louder in a way as he announced the latest polls for the 2040 Presidential election. Why was the static bothering her now? She was sure she never heard it like that before and after living on this farm her entire life, she couldn’t recall a time it was this intrusive.
Instinctively, she took her place behind Daphne and the two other girls they lived with. She always went last and Daphne always trailed ahead. As the second oldest, protecting the two, smaller children seemed to be her job now; Daphne acted like it too. Casey was six and would probably be taller than her, but she and Daphne watched anyway.
Casey didn’t have a lot of patience and had more energy than the rabbits in the woods. Her long, wavy golden locks and honey brown eyes reminded Sarah of the sun. The description did her friend justice. Casey loved to laugh and joke around. She could run for hours and never seemed to lose steam.
Michelle was tiny compared to them all. Her straight red, shoulder-length hair made the green in her eyes glow. The dimple on her left cheek always seemed bigger when the little thing smiled. Out of all of them, Sarah and Daphne watched Michelle the closest not just, because Michelle was five, but because she was too sensitive for her own good.
After turning eight this year, Sarah lost hope of her father coming to take her out of this place and probably wouldn’t have gone with him anyway. Besides not knowing the man and just seeing him three times in her life, leaving the other girls was out of the question.
On any other day, seeing the dim staircase made her happy because she wouldn’t have to come back down here for a day but she couldn’t focus on it right now. Her heart began to pound in her chest as they ascended. The hollow creek of the door sounded like a gunshot in her ears when the sunlight poured in.
Stumbling a bit, she stepped out last and ignored the sight of the crumbling farmhouse before them. She couldn’t speak or make her mouth move over the overwhelming scent of dirt and pine that commanded her senses. The light made her blink uncontrollably for a few moments before she followed Michelle and Casey towards the field. They didn’t seem to be moving fast either.
“Just take it slow guys. This is normal.” Hearing Daphne’s command made her panic a bit. Why would she say it like that? Her heart began to beat faster.
As they continued to put distance between them and the farmhouse, Sarah felt her body begin to shake more. The dizziness came in a flash and by now Michelle and Casey weren’t moving. She heard Michelle gasp before she began to hyperventilate herself. What was that smell?
The sunlight taunted her and she felt her legs begin to give out.Was it poison this time? Is that what the doctor gave them? The thought left Sarah panic-stricken and the deafening noises that surrounded her amplified in response to her rushed breaths. The odd sensation in her skin continued to command her nerves. It was as if someone else was controlling her body and she could feel every one of her senses take over without permission or consciousness.
“Look at me, Sarah.”
“I can’t.” She couldn’t hear herself over the buzzing.
“You can do this, focus on my voice.”
She could see Daphne’s lips move, but her voice was too muffled. The piercing pools of gray were blurry to Sarah now, so were the dark locks Daphne had that fell below her shoulders. The waves of black were an image Sarah could see in every memory she had but at the moment, she couldn’t recall the detail to save her life.
In the distance, she saw the other two as they gasped, groaning in the same agony that plagued her. She watched with her mouth open when the honeybee came closer. Its wings flapped as it played its deafening song. How was this possible? It sounded like the thing used a bullhorn of some sort and the sound amplified through her. She felt like she was losing her mind when she swore she could see the distinct pattern of its wings as if she were looking through a magnifying glass.
“Sarah, this is normal. Focus on one thing at a time.“ Daphne’s voice continued to coo at her. Why did she sound louder now?
The anxiety that took over her body would not allow her a fulfilling breath, even as she leaned over to hold her knees. The buzzing increased when the wretched thing circled above her. A wave of nausea entered her as the scent of bird feces invaded her nostrils. Panic now came at full force; she saw the flock thirty-five feet away. What was happening?
“Guys, you have to try; please… he’s coming.” Daphne’s voice echoed and pierced her ears.
Sarah huffed in response over the whirlwind of nausea and dizziness that didn’t seem like it would ever stop. The anxiety commanded her body as she began to back away from her friend. She couldn’t catch her breath and felt as if she were spinning. She could hear her name faintly and the thud the others made as they fell, before everything went dark.
