Read imperfect Online

Authors: Tina Chan

Tags: #thriller, #scifi, #adventure, #young adult, #science fiction, #ya, #dystopian, #ya fiction, #imperfect, #ya thriller, #ya scifi, #ya dystopian, #ya dystopia, #dystopain fiction, #imperfect by tina chan, #imperfect tina chan, #tina chan

imperfect (38 page)

BOOK: imperfect
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Her first room to check out was Lab E. Lab E
was by far the biggest lab Kristi had ever been in. The lab
could’ve easily held five hundred people; as of right then, roughly
fifty people milled about in it. What really grabbed her attention,
though, was the abnormality of the animals being housed in the
room.

As with several of the
other rooms Kristi had visited in New Genes Lab, animal cages took
up a good portion of the lab. The majority of the animals housed in
Lab E were primates with a few canines, horses and colorful,
tropical birds sprinkled here and there; they all either
looked
wrong
or
acted
wrong
.

The chimpanzee to the far right of the room
had gold fur. The pony fast asleep beside the golden chimpanzee
stood on unnaturally long legs. An orangutan across the room curled
its lips at Kristi and her eyes snapped wide open when she realized
the eyes of the orangutan were a shocking violet color; she was
pretty sure normal orangutans didn’t have purple eyes.


Ah-hem.”

Kristi jumped at the noise coming from
behind her. An intelligent looking man with a slightly drooping
mustache towered over her. He crossed his arms and a disapproving
expression etched into his face.


Are you lost?” he
asked.


No—no I know where I am.
I just got lost in my thoughts for a second. I’ll be off to clean
the windows now.” She held up her micro-fiber sponges to show that
she was here to clean the lab windows.

Kristi ambled over to a window beside a cage
holding a bird whistling a simple tune. She wiped the sponge
left-to-right on the glass. A few moments passed and she couldn’t
shake off the feeling that eyes were boring into her back. She
threw a quick glance over her shoulder.

A woman in a white lab coat observed her
work; at the same time, she was listening half-heartedly to the man
who had just spoken to Kristi. The woman caught Kristi staring back
at her and gave a smile. The smile the woman flashed her sent
shivers running down her spine; although the smile seemed friendly
on the surface, there was something sinister about it. Kristi
desperately wished Chelsa and Troop were beside her.

chapter
thirty-nine

 

[ Troop ]

 

 

 

Troop watched a gaggle of
scientist stride by him and Chelsa. He
checked his watch; three minutes since he last saw Kristi
being wheeled away—God, it felt like three hours though.


Any brilliant ideas on
how to get into the East Wing?” Chelsa asked.

Troop shrugged.

A man in a rumpled lab coat came barreling
down the hallway. A stack of electro-slates tittered precariously
in his arms.


Careful there,” Troop
said. “There’s a person in front—”

Wham!


Too late,” muttered
Chelsa.

The untidy looking man rammed into another
man pushing an empty cart. The electro-slates flew into the air
rained down onto the ground.


Aw, crap,” said the man
who was carrying the electro-slates


I see that you’re in a
rush as usual,” the disgruntled cart-pusher said.


I’m going to be late for
my meeting.” The man knelt down to examine the dropped slate
closest to him. “Thank goodness the glass isn’t cracked. So glad
the lab ordered reinforced glass for these slates.”


Watch where you’re going
next time, alright?” The other man booted a couple electro-slates
out of his path. “The lab just got a new shipment of supplies, so
there’s a lot of traffic transporting the stuff from the holding
room.”


Yeah, yeah.”

The cart-pusher wheeled
the pushcart away. Chelsa helped pick up some of the electro-slates
and asked the scientist, “Would you like me to help carry some of
the electro-slates for you?”


That would be great.” He
picked up the last slate off the floor then said, “Follow me this
way.”

The two of them stood up
and Chelsa trailed after the man, headed in the direction of the
East Wing.
Well, she’s figured out how to
enter the East Wing. Now it’s just me left.

Troop absent-mindedly
opened the black toolbox and rummaged through the contents: a
bottle of window glue, a three-in-one tool of some sorts, cleaning
acid and a tin of mints. Nothing really useful.

A petite woman rolled a
cart with a load of crates on top past Troop, traveling to the East
Wing. A few minutes later, a different woman pushed an empty cart
from the opposite direction. Troop observed the flow of laden and
empty cards, catching on the pattern. Carts carrying supplies were
being transported to the East Wing while unloaded carts were being
wheeled out.

If I can find the room
where all the stuff being carried into the East Wing, I can hide
myself in a box and sneak in as well,
he
thought.

He began to walk in the
direction the empty carts were being pushed without appearing too
obvious. Troop shadowed a bald scientist for the length of a few
hallways, then stopped, watching the man continue on out of
sight.

He pretended to inspect a window for signs
of damage while he waited for the next empty cart to pass by; he
didn’t want to be caught stalking a New Genes Lab employee.


Hey there,
Kenny.”

Troop looked up to see two scientists greet
each other, each walking in opposite directions.


How many loads left?”
asked the scientist who wasn’t Kenny.


Seventy-three last time I
checked. Better hustle.”

Troop tailed behind Kenny; Kenny remained
oblivious to Troop the whole time. Troop stopped trying to keep
track of left and right turns Kenny made after twelve turns. He
stayed back when Kenny pushed his empty cart through a set of
automatic doors.

Troop didn’t have to wait long before Kenny
reemerged with a few black bags piled onto the handcart. Kenny
hummed a monotonous tune under his breath as he wheeled his load
out of sight.

Another man entered the
holding room with an empty cart and exited with it buried beneath
bales of hay. Convinced he had found the room he sought, Troop
allowed a couple more employees to go in-and-out of the room before
ducking inside when he was sure it was empty.

Troop squinted in the weakly lit holding
room. He quick stepped over to the nearest crate that appeared to
be big enough to fit his body. The crate his eyes were on was long
and low. The top of the crate slid off with no problem—no locks or
anything.


Squawk!”

He flinched in surprise
and peered down into the wooden crate; five or six chickens milled
about aimlessly.


Hey, guys. Sorry to crash
your party,” he said.

Troop laid himself down
inside the crate, ignoring the chickens’ clucks of indignation.
Then he slid the cover of the crate back in place. The slates of
the crate allowed some light to filter through; the gaps created by
the wooden slates also allowed him a limited view of what was going
on outside.

The automatic door
whooshed open and Troop heard rustling and the
thud
of someone dropping something
heavy. A few seconds later, the door swooshed open once more. Troop
saw a pair of black dress shoes make their way out the
room.

He counted at least five
different people come and leave the holding room.
I wonder how long it’s going to be before someone
moves the crate I’m in. Perhaps I should try a different
tactic.


Let’s see, I have to move
box number fifty to Lab N,” said a feminine voice.

The speaker’s high heels
tip-tapped across the floor.
Please let
this crate of chickens be box number fifty,
Troop thought. The shoes strode right past him.
Okay, once this person leaves, I’m getting out of
here and coming up with a different plan.

The automatic doors hummed open again and
another person wheeled a cart into the holding room.


Hi, Jack,” said the
woman. “Do you know where box fifty is? I can’t locate
it.”


Check over there,” Jack
suggested. “I think it’s beside that really tall box.”

There was a pause and some scuffling noises.
“Oh—got it. Thanks.”

The pair of red stilettos click-clacked
through the doors and out the room. Troop thought it was a minor
miracle that the woman managed to keep her balance on those
ridiculously high heels.


Gosh, this thing’s
heavy,” a male—Jack’s, Troop assumed—voice grunted.

Troop felt one end of the
crate tip upwards.
Finally.

The opposite end of the
crate was lifted upwards then laid down until everything was level
once more. The chickens fluttered their wings at the movement.
Troop squirmed, the prickly straw padding poking into his back. He
felt like he was lying in a coffin. A very itchy and
poultry-smelling coffin.

The wheels whirred beneath Troop as the cart
launched into motion.


Somebody must’ve ordered
extra chickens,” Jack said. “Subject number twenty-three sure is
lucky.”

Troop gazed out the slates
of the crate, watching a parade of legs pass by him. The chickens
at last left Troop alone and stopped pecking at him. The checkered
floor scrolled by, momentarily hypnotizing him.


What do you have there?”
a gruff voice demanded.

The cart stopped. Troop gauged the speaker
stood a good distance from Jack.


Chickens,” said
Jack.


ID?” A pause, then,
“Alright. Fingerprint scan.”

There was a soft
bleep
.


You’re
cleared.”

A mechanical lock buzzed to life and Jack
pushed the cart into the East Wing. Troop allowed himself a mental
victory dance.


I don’t see why we still
need to upkeep subject twenty-three if it’s just going to be put
down in a few hours,” Jack said to himself. “Such a waste of
resources.”

Jack drove the cart straight down the hall,
and then turned into a room branching off the main hallway. From
his point of view, Troop couldn’t see any other people in the room
aside from him and Jack.


I have your lunch,
twenty-three,” said Jack. “Hope you enjoy your final
meal.”

Troop propped himself up with his elbows to
get a better look at subject twenty-three, bumping his head against
the top of the crate in the process of doing so. He bit back a
string of curses.


No need to get all hyped
up, chickens,” said Jack. “It’s not like you’ll live to see another
day.”

Troop tilted his head and
stared at the large, metal cage directly in line with his field of
view.
Oh, shit. Why does subject
twenty-three have to be a tiger?

 

chapter forty

 

[ Kristi ]

 

 

 


There you are. I just
finished drying the window in the hallway
and didn’t know where you went,” Chelsa said, walking over
beside Kristi.


Good, you’re here,”
Kristi said softly to her once she was within earshot. “Take a look
around this room.”

Chelsa took in her surroundings and let out
a faint gasp. “We’re definitely getting closer to the answer of the
Disappearance Case.”


There were cats, rabbits
and mice in the North Wing of New Genes Lab,” Kristi said. “Now
there are primates in the East Wing. I think we both can predict
what we’ll find in the South Wing.”

Both of them stared wide-eyed at each other,
reaching the same conclusion. Neither of them had predicted that
the government would be conducting experiments on the Accidents.
And of course, there was also the question of why the government
would want to conduct experiments on the Accidents in the first
place.


How did you get into the
East Wing?” Kristi asked Chelsa.

Chelsa spread a glob of cleaning foam onto
the window Kristi was wiping down.


Some distracted bloke had
too many electro-slates to carry by himself. I offered to help him
carry some of the slates and the guards allowed me to pass through
the door accompanying him without a question.”


Do you want to wait for
Tro—Kennedy or not?” Kristi remembered to use Troop’s Cleandows ID
name at the last second.


Sure. Want to give him
five minutes then move on?”

Kristi nodded.

 

chapter
forty-one

 

[ Troop ]

 

 

 

The tiger rumbled and bared its saber-like
fangs.


No need to get all hissy
on me, twenty-three,” Jack said.

Troop gripped his black toolbox so tight his
knuckles turned white. Jack’s footsteps echoed in the small, square
room.

Crrkk.
The cover of the crate grated open.

Troop bolted upright. Jack widened his eyes
in astonishment.


What are—” Jack began to
say.

BOOK: imperfect
3.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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