After the Storm (3)
http://poppetawoppet.livejournal.com/3062.html
http://poppetawoppet.livejournal.com/3119.html
please read parts one and two first
Subject # 1055: Desai, Anoop. Arrival 09/17/09. No visual symptoms, though prompting has revealed strange occurrences since late August. After observing 1055 breaking a lot of equipment as well as several unbreakable things, it seems 1055 has acquired ‘super’ strength. He is an interesting case in that he wasn’t uncooperative per se, but has developed an interesting motivator here at Base Zero, making him an excellent candidate for Base Three genetic testing.
Subject #1054: Joy, Megan. Arrival 09/17/09. Symptoms include hovering in sleep as well as sometimes in the day. Subject has progressed to limited flight at this time. Another danger if she escapes, 1054 however has a tie to keep her here. Especially with the incentive given to her. Still may bear watching, but if 1054 progresses enough in her outside relationships, she may be a candidate for Base 3 as well, for use in Project Storm’s genetic research.
Subject # 303: Barnson, Sarah. Arrival 09/01/09. Exhibited no symptoms. However, after extensive testing, 303 has revealed the ability to take on others’ appearances. This has not extended to taking on their voices or their abilities, so it has limited uses. However, the skill may be developed yet. 303 is one of two underage residents of Base Zero. We almost took 303 and 1059 to base four, however, both their abilities and maturity weighed in on this decision. 303's limitations seem to earmark her for transfer to either base one or three, probably one, to see if her abilities develop with age.
In a way, Adam was glad it was only April. Had all of this happened in the summer, he would have been fried by now. He had spent his last day at the hospital: and yes that was the official name of the building, everyone called it the hospital, even though it wasn’t exactly that. It was better than the bunker, but it was also a more permanent fixture. It was in Adam’s opinion, not only their way of continuing whatever experiments, but also a reminder that they were in fact freaks of nature and should be treated as such. Hospital days weren’t a forbidden topic, but no one really talked about them anyway. Adam was making his way to where there looked to be a lot of people: he had no assignment for today. Kris was sitting with Alli and another young girl, the only indication he was working at all was the sweat on his brow, the scrunched up concentration on his face.
Adam watched as Anoop helping with the heavy lifting, Megan above making fine adjustments. Adam wondered if the counselors knew exactly what was going on there, and remembered the cameras, and probably guessed yes. He had a sick feeling the counselors allowed it because of the possibilities of such a relationship. What also worried him was the permanency of the building before him. The cabins, as divided and cramped as they were, indicated a temporary stay. This building indicated long term projects, years as opposed to months. Although it didn’t surprise him. What was the government supposed to do with a bunch of real life comic book characters? Adam had come to accept that he might be here for the rest of his life (however long the counselors decided that would be.) He wanted to hope whatever escape plan they could form would work, but like the poem said hope was a thing with feathers, and feathers were fragile.
Adam smiled, watching Alli and her new friend chatter brightly. They were probably waiting to talk with Kris, to introduce her. The current plan was to get Kris as familiar with as many people they thought they could trust as they could. Then, with Emily’s help, they could possibly hold a community meeting of sorts. Then, maybe then, they could plan an escape. Until then….
The last month had been better. Obviously everything was still down, but now that Adam had Kris to lean on again, he had something to look forward to in his life. It wasn’t the same as before. It never could be. Before they had shared practically everything. Now, there was too much pain, too many memories to be that close. Adam felt a lot of guilt about it, more than he should. Kris had assured him that Adam’s feelings weren’t a problem, that Adam wasn’t so sure. He worried that it complicated their relationship, that it influenced their relationship. But when Adam felt the most alone, or when Kris woke up in the night, someone’s dreams waking him, there was someone there to hold onto, to laugh it off with. Speaking of laughter…
Matt had come by, sitting with Alli and her new friend. Sissy, he believed she had introduced herself as. Matt had been a blessing. He had always been the class clown, and he remained the same. Like Danny, he had had a decent time of it so far. Both felt guilt. Danny tried to make up for it by playing spy; Matt was also playing the spy angle, although a lot closer to the vest than Danny would ever manage to. Matt also made up for it by trying to make everyone laugh (and generally succeeding). Adam even chuckled as Kris began to hum Matt’s new favorite song. If he never heard “Great Balls of Fire” ever again, Adam would die a happy man.
Kris turned as everything on the building seemed to go into place.
“Matt, I swear to God.”
“What?”
Then Kris tilted his head. “Did Alli play with your hair too? I mean purple?”
Adam laughed as Matt yelped and ran to go find a mirror. Anoop and Megan had walked over, laughing too, leaning into each other slightly. Allison was experimenting in changing light (and therefore color) by messing with people’s hair. She had wanted to do uniforms, but the counselors had nixed that. So Adam’s hair was back to black (at least temporarily, like Allison said, hair grows). And the sheets in their cabin were varying shades of the rainbow. And so on.
“So who is this?” Kris looked at Sissy.
“This is Sarah, but everyone calls her Sissy.” Alli grinned as they shook hands.
“And how are we today?”
Anoop and Megan sat, used to the drill, striking up a conversation about the building. Adam was taken aback when Sissy looked around, faced Kris, and her face began to change, to melt. Suddenly there were two Megans, except Sissy spoke in her own voice. It seemed she had limitations, but if she was here, they would find some way for her to help. The more people they contacted, the more dangerous it became, but without any help, escape would be impossible. Adam looked at Sissy for a long time, something about her seemed wrong.
“How old are you, Sissy?”
She looked at him, swallowed. “Fifteen. And a half.”
Everyone was silent. The one thing about Area 51 was that there were no children. Allison and now Sissy were the only minors in the camp. But surely whatever had happened to them had happened to children. Which meant a different camp. And different worries.
Adam looked at Kris, and knew he was thinking the same thing. She wasn’t old enough; she couldn’t be a part of this.
“Wait, I know what you are thinking, and I understand. I do,” Sissy looked around; put her hand on the table. “But it’s my choice.”
Kris looked at her, his head tilted, slowly nodded. “All right.”
Adam raised his eyebrows, said nothing. Whatever Sissy had said or shown Kris, it must have been convincing. He rubbed his face, realizing the day was half over, and he was exhausted. It was hard to focus at lunch, everyone jabbering on about their day, what was going on in camp. At least in their ever expanding group. The counselors’ seemed cautiously optimistic that this group had started to participate willingly, to emerge from the zombie-like state that most of the rest of the refugees still existed in. If only they knew the reason why. Adam shook his head, trying to focus.
You ok?
Adam turned, looking at Kris’ face, concern in his voice, on his face. I just had a hospital day, so no.
Kris threw him a wry half grin in understanding, squeezed Adam’s arm. Thought as much.
So why are we letting the munchkin in? Has to be a reason even for you.
Her parents were two of the people shot. Earlier.
Adam blinked. Fuck.
Yeah. So if anyone has any right to be with us, it’s her.
Kris turned and went back to talking to the others. Adam smiled a little. He turned to Scott, who was having a good day, began to talk to him. After lunch was over, most of the others went back to the mysterious new buildings; Adam retreated into the cabin, free for the rest of the day. He could have hung out at the site, but then he would have another terrible sunburn. Of course Danny could help out with that, and had in the past, but Adam wasn’t feeling the idea of putting himself in any more pain. As he went inside, guiding Scott carefully to his bunk for a nap, Adam was surprised to see Joey and Danny on the steps. Danny looked worried, sad.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Adam asked.
“Oh nothing. I had the day free, and was hanging out here, thought maybe I left my glasses here again.”
That was code for Danny had information he needed to share. By the look on Danny’s face, it was something Joey had seen. Between Danny, Matt, and Joey, they figured they knew most of what the counselors were planning, and when it was going to happen. But it seemed so dangerous. Adam laughed to himself. The whole thing was dangerous. They hadn’t told anyone, but Kris and Adam had agreed on one thing. If ever they were found out, he and Kris were going to shoulder the blame. Adam would admit to coercing everyone into following them, Kris would admit to being the point man, and hopefully everyone else would be left alone, at least to survive just a little longer. Adam had argued and still argued to let it just be him. Kris had a family to go home to; he had Katy to think of. Kris had disagreed; pointing out that Adam had his family too. That if he let Adam take all the blame, Kris could never live with himself. Adam knew there was no use fighting, but he had to continue to try. After all, it wasn’t just Katy that needed Kris, the camp needed him. Kris had once again become a focal point, although for different reasons.
Adam was the only one who fully realized that Kris had grown harder. It made him want to weep, to yell, to kick something. The one thing he had loved most was that no matter what, Kris had always held the most optimism, had been the one person who held out when things looked bad. And even if things were bad, Kris would shrug his shoulders and let it go. But that was before. Now…. Now Kris didn’t even turn a hair at the thought that tomorrow they might be found out, that tomorrow might be their last day. Now Kris held no illusions, no hope that he could ever go back home. It did give Adam optimism that Kris thought they had a sliver of a chance of escaping, but even then Adam wasn’t sure how Kris really felt about that. All he could do was keep him close, continue to be the friend that he needed.
They sat in the cabin, the nine of them, plus Emily, Sissy, Joey, five others. They hadn’t started a game yet, were talking of nothing in particular. Danny looked nervous. Kris was sitting next to Joey while talking to Danny about his glasses of all things, then nodded.
“So, wish we could stay, but Joey and I have another hospital day tomorrow, so, we’re turning in. Thanks for finding my glasses again Kris; I can’t believe I left them here. Again.”
The two left and Anoop began to deal cards to the small crowd gathered there. At first the counselors had been disapproving of gatherings like these until they realized that it increased cooperation as well as the fact that they never really talked about anything. Or so the counselors thought. Kris looked around the room as the weather came up (warmer every day), and leaned slightly into Emily. It wasn’t that Kris couldn’t broadcast to everyone; it was just that there was probably a lot of information. Adam paused as the scene played before him, superimposed over the real one in front of his eyes.
The room is familiar; they have all been in the hospital before. This room, however, is Dr. Campbell’s office, and many of them recognize the decorations from when they visited Dr. Campbell in the bunker. Many of the refugees Adam included didn’t believe Dr. Campbell was a doctor at all. She was very military, and never acted like a doctor. Ever. Danny is just outside the room, Dr. Campbell and one of the ‘real’ doctors, Dr. Ellison talking to him softly. Joey isn’t supposed to see this, in fact the only reason the door is open at all is because no one considers her a threat because she is still on the drugs. Except she isn’t. Something on the wall catches her eye; it is a news article framed, new from the last time she was in here. She looks at the door, keeping her ear open, walks over. It was from an associated press release, the newspaper unknown, and the article reviewing the government’s actions regarding the quarantine of Ohio last year, how there were still people who had not been heard from, that there were worried family members still waiting to hear from victims of the strange mutation of the swine flu. (Adam laughs a little at this; a mutation of the swine flu was the best they could come up with? Might as well have announced a zombie attack.) “Furthermore, executives at 19 Entertainment, producers of American Idol, have been very vocal these past months on behalf of the season eight contestants’ families, all of whom have yet to receive a body, all of whom are still waiting to mourn their losses properly….” Joey backs away, the voices stopped,
The rest is pretty inconsequential. Everyone turned to Kris, and then looked at Scott. I didn’t include him in there. I’m not sure he could handle it.
But if they think…
Adam turned when he heard Michael’s voice. That was why Kris had sat next to Emily- because he wanted everyone to participate. It was a new trick. Looking at everyone’s faces, especially Alli, Mike and Kris the implications of what Joey had seen came through. To the world, they were dead: to their families, they were dead…
The card game had paused, everyone silent, then Matt laid down a card, “Uno, bitches!” and they all laughed nervously, unsure of how to continue, how to deal with this news. Adam knew. He thought that the rest of them might too. After all if their families all thought them dead or dying, then what did they have to lose?
Later, when most of them lay in bed, awake, asleep, Adam watched as Mike and Kris sat on the porch, speaking in low tones. Adam knew what the conversation was. Mike was trying to get Kris to hope, but Kris was right this time: all Katy knew was that Kris was dead, had been for months, as far as they could tell. Mike walked away, shaking his head, giving Adam a small shrug as he passed into the cabin. Adam walked over, sat down, and said nothing. He put his arm around Kris, pulled him close. Kris stared into the desert, his eyes wet with unshed tears, his face set in grief.
Adam knew he was the wrong person for his moment, the wrong person to hold Kris up. For as much as he felt Kris’ pain, there was a petty and contemptuous part of him that was happy. A part that saw an opening, a part of him that made Adam sick to his stomach. A part of himself that Adam wanted to push back, hide away. Because it wasn’t necessary now, it was unneeded.
Maybe when we get out of here, she’ll see you and it will be like the best day of your fucking life.
Kris looked at Adam, gave him a half smile, a broken smile, one that made Adam begin to break, begin to cry. Yeah, well, you go on thinking that, because Katy was before. And anything that was before… anything that was before is gone now.
“That’s not true,” Adam whispered. “All of us, we’re before.”
Kris shook his head. “Yeah, well, even that has changed and you know it.”
Adam couldn’t quite read the look in Kris’ eyes, but he understood a little. The dynamic had changed, even though the nine of them were together now, they had begun to separate nonetheless. Scott was falling apart, his days in the hospital becoming more frequent. Matt, despite his outward happiness, was becoming strained trying to keep the fiction of befriending the counselors. Danny, having found a cause, had become purposeful, less goofy, less fun. Allison had grown a million years, still her crazy self, but something had been lost, something she couldn’t even share with her brothers. Mike, the lone holdout, still hoped he could go home and everything would be the same. Anoop and Megan had held onto each other, had formed a smaller circle, one none of them had seen before, but understood nonetheless. Adam, well he was less sure of everything, almost back to the person he had been right after high school, the loner, the person he had hated most. Kris… Kris had become hard, almost too hard. Adam wondered when he would break, if he would break. But for now, he held him close, offering what support he could. Because now, now they had nothing to lose…
part four: poppetawoppet.livejournal.com/3592.html