Freak of Nature (2 page)

“Sir, it’s reached maximum capacity,” Lucas said, clearly impressed.

“Very good.” A grin spread across Professor Adams’s face. “She continues to exceed expectations. Soon, she will be ready. Dr. Harrington will be pleased with the news.”

Chapter Two

K
aitlyn heard Quess plodding down the hall before she unlocked the door, and turned the doorknob. The poor girl had to spend her summers with her grandparents—Professor Adams and his wife. As punishment for some act of teenage belligerence, Quess had to clean this wing of the compound, which included Kaitlyn’s room. Not that she minded, because it gave her more time with Quess.

Kaitlyn clicked off the television and leaned back on her pillow, her legs crossed in front of her at the ankles. She had already seen the movie Munich several times. She really enjoyed the movie, but welcomed the interruption. Recently, Professor Adams had a TV installed at Lucas’s request. He thought she could learn about human interaction through watching movies. For some reason reality shows and the news were off-limits,which made no sense. Wouldn’t she learn more from a reality show than make believe?

She peeked her head around the door. “Ms. Kaitlyn, may I come in?”

“Yes.” The blinking red light in the corner of the room was an ever-present reminder that her room was monitored, so she had to watch what she said and did. That usually wasn’t much, anyway. To say her life was monotonous was an understatement.

Quess dropped her bucket down on the floor, breaking the silence, and pulled out an old rag. She started dusting around Kaitlyn’s room—not that there was much dust. The room was sparse. Kaitlyn watched as Quess’s small pale hand efficiently wiped down the white dresser, and then moved over to the windowsill. Her unruly copper hair looked like fire in the sunlight.

Neither spoke a word. Kaitlyn wondered if the way she stared—robotic, silent, almost as if she were a statue—bothered Quess. Kaitlyn could sit for hours on end, unblinking and with nothing to do but stare at the four walls around her. But Quess never complained.

After Quess finished dry mopping the tile floor, she turned and looked at Kaitlyn with a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. “Ms. Kaitlyn, would you like to walk the grounds with me? Grandpa Adams suggested you might want some fresh air.”

Walking the grounds was Kaitlyn’s favorite thing to do, but she kept her face stoic. She didn’t want to show any emotions to the camera. They’ve already taken so much from her she wouldn’t allow them to take anything more. “If Professor Adams thinks I need fresh air, then I will go.”

“I thought you might.” Quess picked up her bucket and waited for Kaitlyn to follow.

Anything to get out of this white, stuffy little room and away from the endless testing
, Kaitlyn thought. She gracefully stood from her bed, smoothed down the front of her dress, and followed behind the young girl.

She remained silent throughout the maze of hallways, past the dark, quiet labs and the even darker cafeteria. Cameras were everywhere: posted in high, shadowed corners, hidden behind black-glass windows. Kaitlyn lived her entire new life—or half-life, as it were—under scrutiny, like the science experiment she was. Except on the rare occasion she went out with Quess. Even then they didn’t have much privacy.

They stopped by the supply closet and stowed Quess’s bucket before Kaitlyn pushed through the heavy metal door that led outside into the afternoon sunshine. The cool air against her skin was a nice sensation. Being locked away made her appreciate the little things.

Where the lab and dorm were sterile and white, outside was a mini paradise. Kaitlyn believed the compound was remote, being surrounded on all sides by thick forest and absent of any sounds beyond that of nature. A glance towards the distant front gate—hung with barbed wire and electronically locked—showed it was being patrolled by its usual armed guards.

Scanning the area, she was relieved to see the courtyard was empty as they made their way down the stone path flanked by dogwood trees leading to the woods. Sometimes staff members would sit at the picnic tables for lunch or dinner, or gather around the back door for a smoke break. Kaitlyn always felt awkward on the rare occasion she crossed paths with staff members who were not assigned to her. They either gawked at her like she was a freak or avoided eye contact completely.

Kaitlyn watched with curiosity as Quess spread her arms wide and twirled around laughing. Her head tilted up towards the sun.

“It’s so beautiful.” Quess gave one more twirl and linked her pale, skinny arm through Kaitlyn’s.

Kaitlyn found human contact very strange. She could feel the warmth from Quess’s touch, but she didn’t understand why the girl would want to touch her. It made her uncomfortable.

She looked straight ahead and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. With her heightened sense of perception, she could hear wild life scurrying in the distance. A mother deer and her baby were grazing on the open field four hundred and twenty-two meters to their left. A persistent Pileated Woodpecker tapped away at a tree. Only a few feet away a squirrel jumped from one branch to another.

Once they passed the large birch tree—their normal point of safety from prying eyes—Kaitlyn looked at Quess and smiled dropping the mask she usually wore. There were only heat sensor cameras beyond this point in case anyone tried to break into the secure facility. The heat sensors made it possible for the guards to make the distinction between humans and animals.

“What did they do to you today?” Quess asked, her pretty freckled face tilted up to meet Kaitlyn’s eyes.

Ever since Quess had warned her not to show any emotion around the staff, she’d considered the girl a companion. Kaitlyn shrugged. “Nothing interesting. More testing and physical activity.” She remembered her stray thought about the ‘rolling of eyes’ and added, “But I do have a question for you.”

“Sure.” Quess slowed her pace.

“Quess, what does it mean for me to ‘roll my eyes’? The phrase crossed my mind today at the oddest time. I felt like I should know what it meant, but I couldn’t figure it out.”

The young girl giggled. “It’s so funny when you ask such strange questions. How can you remember you should wear pants, but not what rolling your eyes means?”

Kaitlyn sighed. “I wish I knew. My mind is a mess. I seem to only know what they
want
me to know. It’s very frustrating.”

“Well, that’s where I can help out.” Quess touched Kaitlyn’s shoulder, a brief show of solidarity, or maybe, sympathy. “Rolling your eyes is just a saying. Well, really it’s an action. Like if you think something is ridiculous, you roll your eyes. Watch.” Quess came to a stop. She demonstrated, her hazel eyes making a full circle.

Kaitlyn thought about it for a moment, her mind categorizing not only the verbal definition but the visual. She grasped the meaning, but she couldn’t understand why ‘rolling of the eyes’ had anything to do with it. She didn’t bother to press the girl any further.

Who knew? A lot of sayings didn’t make any sense to her logical, mechanical mind.

One time, Kaitlyn heard the professor say it was ‘raining cats and dogs’. When she was relieved from the laboratory, she had rushed back to her room to look out the window. She wanted to see the animals falling from the sky, but there was nothing but a lot of rain.

Another time, she heard the Professor’s wife tell him that he was ‘going to hell in a hand basket,’ because of his latest experiment. Even Quess didn’t get the logic of that statement. The going to hell part made sense, but why in a hand basket? There were many mysteries in the english language.

“How much longer will you be here? Don’t you start school soon?” Kaitlyn asked quietly. She hated the thought of being alone, and once Quess was gone, she really
would
be alone. No one else talked to her like she was a real person, like she was a human being. She was a machine to them. Just an experiment, with a more human-sounding project name than most.

“I’m staying here for school this year,” Quess said. “Boarding school didn’t agree with me.”

Relief flooded Kaitlyn. She had been surprised that they would even let Quess near her, what with Kaitlyn’s very existence being ‘top secret.’ Quess had explained that the professor and his team had used hypnosis on her; she would forget Kaitlyn whenever she stepped foot off the compound.

They’d thought of everything….

“What about your parents?”

Quess shrugged. “They don’t care as long as my grades are good. It’s not like they are ever around anyway. They are always traipsing around the world at some archaeological dig site or another.”

Kaitlyn could tell the girl was upset, but had no idea what to say. Times like this she wished she were more human.

They walked in silence for a while.

“I heard some of the guards talking about you the other day.”

Kaitlyn didn’t care if she was talked about, but she knew that Quess enjoyed to gossip. So she tried to humor her when possible.

“What did they say?”

“Jimmy thinks your sexy and Terry says he would give his right arm for a fraction of your skills.”

“His right arm?” Kaitlyn asked confused.

“It’s just a saying. He wants to have your skills no matter what the cost.”

“The cost is too high.” Kaitlyn said sadly. She had often wondered if she were the only one Harrington had created.

“Are there any others like me?” Kaitlyn asked. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, the computer within checking over everything for potential threats as they walked.

Quess shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen. I think you’re the only one. All of the other experiments I’ve seen have only been with machines. Not humans.”

Kaitlyn had thought that was the case, but hearing it said out loud only made her loneliness that much deeper.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” She wasn’t sure why she told Quess, but it had been on her mind. Anything out of the norm always caught her attention.

“Have you had that dream again?” Quess looked up, her eyes wide.

Kaitlyn gazed across the green courtyard. The sun was setting in the distance, turning the sky a dozen different shades of red. “Every night that I can recall,” she murmured.

“I wonder who the guy is. He must be important if you keep dreaming about him.”

“I have no idea. Perhaps someone from my old life.” A life she could not recall.

“Maybe we can find him,” Quess said excitedly.

Kaitlyn laughed. Her friend was so young and human. “I don’t think that is likely, Quess.”

“You can describe him to me, and I can make a sketch, and we can run a search. I bet he has a Facebook account.”

Kaitlyn had no idea what a ‘Facebook account’ was, but she did know she could describe the stranger’s face, down to the small scar on his chin. Shaggy dirty blond hair, emerald green eyes, an infectious smile.

“If he even exists, he thinks I’m dead. Besides,
they
would see,” Kaitlyn told her firmly, refusing to allow even the smallest bit of hope to emerge from her human side. “They see everything, Quess.”

“Not everything,” Quess cooed, skipping a few steps. “There are a few hidden spots that the cameras don’t reach.”

Kaitlyn stared down at the beautiful young girl. “And how do you know that?”

“I’ve been watching the gardeners.”

“The gardeners? What do they have to do with anything?”

“Well, they always take their breaks at the same spot. Behind one of the large oak trees.”

“So?” Without prompting, Kaitlyn’s machine kicked in, offering an alternative explanation. Sometimes she hated that thing inside her, kicking out logical commands so that Kaitlyn hadn’t a clue if the thought was even her own. “Maybe they just like to be in the shade.”

“Kaitlyn, come on. You’re the one that told me to look at the little details. How many trees are on this property? Countless, and yet
all three
gardeners rest in the
same place
. I’ve even seen one napping.”

Kaitlyn grinned at her astute friend. “You’re going to make a great spy someday.”

“Maybe, or an artist. I haven’t made up my mind,” the fourteen-year-old said matter-of-factly.

“Where is this tree, and do you have paper and pencil on you?”

Quess walked backwards, smiling proudly as she pulled a small notebook from the back pocket of her jeans. “An artist always has something to write on. Follow me.”