The Samantha Project (21 page)

“Like my parents?” I rattled my arm and leg shackles. “Are they ‘things’ that got in your way?”

“Unfortunately, yes. And if your boyfriend gets too curious regarding your whereabouts, he might meet the same fate. By the way, I wouldn’t worry about that boy looking for you. You called him and said you were staying at the cabin an extra week. You made it clear that you no longer wished to see him. Something about going to college and how you two couldn’t stay together. I don’t know all the details.”

“Wait. How did you . . .” They used my voice, I thought. That’s easy. Basic technology. Just take my voice and a simple software program can make me say anything.
 

“So moving on. Now that you’re awake, we’ll be doing a simple procedure to turn on your switch, or actually a series of genetic switches, to enable your abilities so you can begin learning how to control them. You’ll work with a team of specialists who will be assisting you, but also observing you and recording your progress. A week from today, we’ll be hosting an event in which we’ll unveil you to some of those important people I told you about earlier.”
 

Worthings looked to the side, distracted by something. “Yes, okay. I’m coming.” He looked back to me. “I have another obligation to attend to, Samantha, but it was truly lovely finally meeting you. I’ll be getting updates on your progress this week. So make me proud.” His sinister smile made my stomach turn.

The image disappeared and I was left with Hannah, who was now tapping on the wall near the door. A document popped up that looked like a page of lab values. She tapped on it repeatedly, which brought up different pages of what seemed to be some type of digital medical chart.
 

“The procedure will be in an hour,” she said as she continued to tap. “I could put on music if you like, to help you relax.”
 

Before I could answer, she tapped on another area of the wall and classical music started playing above my head. Then she quickly left out the steel door that held me captive.

I tried to remain calm as I replayed Worthings’ speech in my mind. Was Dave really still working for GlobalLife? Did they really leave a message for Colin? If so, I couldn’t imagine him accepting that I ended our relationship on voice mail. He would never believe that. Allie was still on vacation in Europe, but she would have been calling me, wondering why I wasn’t picking up. And I was supposed to return to work at the coffee shop that week. Josh, Jessica, Will—they would all be concerned when I didn’t show up. I began to worry for their safety. If any of them came looking for me, what would happen to them?

I had to get out of that place. I remembered Dave saying to wait until they turned the switch. Then I could escape. But what was this “switch” and how would it help?
 

The hour passed quickly. Before I knew it, a group of three lab attendants, men dressed in all white, came in with a cartful of instruments. They each had thin tablets that they were swiping and tapping, completely ignoring me. It was useless to ask them anything because I knew they wouldn’t respond. So instead, I lay there, listening to Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons
playing in the background.

Soon they put their tablets down and wheeled the cart next to my bed. One man sat down near the cart and placed his finger in midair. “Switch procedure commencing on Subject 46A. Proceed.” A digital screen appeared in front of him.
 

A second man put on gloves, then grabbed my right arm and turned it so my palm was facing up. He cleaned the inside of my arm with a red liquid. The third man prepared a metal object with a long handle and thin, forklike projections. As he did this, the second man took a long needle from the tray and jabbed it in my bicep. My arm immediately went numb. The third man took the forklike instrument and positioned it over a large vein in my arm. Man #1 reviewed his screen for a moment. “Yes, right there,” he said.

The second man slowly inserted all three sharp points of the object into my arm. I felt no pain, but the sight of it made me nauseous. The metal tips turned into tubelike structures once they hit my veins. They seemed to be acting like an IV, dispensing something into my blood.
 

A holographic screen lit up beside me. Man #1 studied it closely. “It’s almost there.” Letters were scrambling across the screen in different sequences. I recognized the letters A, C, G, and T, the letters that represent the nucleobases found in DNA. All of the sudden the screen stopped and there was a beeping noise. “Okay, it’s inserting itself now,” Man #1 said.

The screen returned to a nonstop sequence of scrambled letters, then eventually slowed and stopped again. I felt a tugging on my arm and noticed the large metal object retracting from my veins. As each pointy metal tine left my skin, a pool of blood formed in its place. The second man placed the device back on the tray and left the room, followed by the third man. Man #1 stayed behind watching the screen, which now showed my vital signs.
 

I looked down at my arm, wondering if anyone was going to bandage it, but the blood that had formed was gone. There were no puncture wounds either.
 

Man #1 waved a metal wandlike device over my body, starting at my head. It appeared to be some type of advanced medical scanner. I could see images on the screen as he passed it over my body. When he was done, he touched the screen, making it disappear, then took the cart and left.
 

My body felt strange. The numbness had left my arm, but I felt an unbearable aching in my limbs. I tried to wiggle my legs. My muscles felt sore, like they had been badly bruised. My head was heavy and a throbbing headache had started to form. The headache intensified within minutes. It was the worst pain I had ever felt. Just when I couldn’t take another second of it, I passed out.
 

I woke up later that afternoon, surrounded by Hannah and Man #1. The cart of instruments was back and a wall of digital screens lined one side of the room.
 

“She’s awake now. We should start with the hearing test. That’s the easiest. Sit her up.” It was Man #1 again. “Samantha, I’m Dr. Murray. How are you feeling?” Dr. Murray sat down next to me and released my arm restraints—an obvious ploy to gain my trust and get me to cooperate. Hannah raised the bed so I was sitting up.
 

“I’ve been chained to this bed for a week and treated like a lab rat. What do you think?”
 

“I need to know how you feel physically,” he said. “Can you move your upper body for me?”
 

I sat motionless, not wanting to make this easy for him. “Release my legs first.”

He hesitated, then released both restraints. “It’s no use running, Samantha. We’re underground. And this place is a fortress. It’s completely sealed and protected from the outside with numerous security checkpoints.
I
can barely get in and out of this place. If you get out that steel door over there, you’ll just find another door and a row of guards outside that. And those metal blinds over there? There’s no window—it’s just for looks to cover up the concrete walls. Go ahead, see for yourself.”

I slowly pulled my legs to the side of the bed. They were no longer sore, but I wasn’t confident I would be able to stand on them after being in bed so long. I cautiously put my feet on the floor, expecting my legs to buckle. But they didn’t. In fact, they felt strong. I got up and went over to the blinds. I lifted them up to find a slab of white concrete, just as he had said.
 

“Check the door if you want. Hannah, disable the security.” The door opened as I approached it. I could see a long, dark hallway. One end was pitch black, which I assumed was a dead end. The other end had another steel door. I ran to it, banging on it and screaming to be let out.

Hannah grabbed my arm and led me back to the room, where Dr. Murray waited, undeterred by my outburst. “Now that we’ve established that you’re not going anywhere, ready to get started?”

“No, I’m not!” I screamed. “I’m not doing anything for you people. Why should I? You kidnapped me, you’re keeping me in this prison and you . . .” Anger surged inside me. I charged toward Dr. Murray. “You killed my parents!” As my hands met his chest, I could feel an incredible force building from my shoulders down to my arms, pushing him to the ground with a thud.
 

He sat on the floor in surprise. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that so soon, but that’s good. Hannah, write that down.”

I stared down at my hands, wondering how my simple push could take down a man who looked to be about 6'5'' and 250 pounds of pure muscle.
 

“That was an example of your advanced strength, Sam,” he said as he slowly got up. “It’s not comic-book superhero strength. It’s more like a few notches above that of a champion bodybuilder but without the need for steroids or even strength-training. But the muscle fibers remain compact so the actual muscle size doesn’t look much different than before.”

I looked down at my arms. My biceps had become lean and toned but not much larger. I felt my legs. The muscles seemed strong and more defined. Being someone who had never been an athlete and did little, if any, physical activity, I couldn’t understand how I had transformed so quickly.

“Try to pick up that ball over there.” Dr. Murray pointed to a silver ball that was next to Hannah. Curious, I went over and picked it up, tossing it in the air a few times.
 

“That’s a weighted ball. It’s 75 pounds. Feels pretty light, don’t you think?”

I tossed it in the air a few more times. “It’s not 75 pounds,” I said, putting the ball down. “It’s more like 5 pounds.”

“Hannah, pick up the ball,” Dr. Murray ordered. Hannah looked at him like he was crazy. Hannah herself didn’t weigh more than 100 pounds. She attempted to lift the ball but couldn’t even move it from side to side.
 

Dr. Murray could sense that I thought Hannah was just playing along, pretending she couldn’t lift it. “Get the scale, Hannah. Weigh me and then the ball so we can prove to Sam what it really weighs.”

Hannah took a large silver penlike object from the cart. She waved it over the man. It beeped, then numbers flashed in blue on one end—254 pounds. Hannah waved the pen over the ball—75 pounds appeared.
 

“Convinced now? During the procedure, your DNA basically told your muscles to create stronger, tougher, more resilient fibers. The muscle fibers won’t break down like normal muscles do. And because they aren’t constantly broken down, your muscles don’t need to be fed high amounts of protein. You’ll retain your muscle mass even if food is scarce. The strong muscles are your natural state now, meaning you don’t have to work to maintain them. Wish mine did that,” he said, looking down at his biceps, “Would save me a lot of time in the gym.”
 

I ran my hand along my arm to feel the muscles. Enhanced strength. It was one of my new abilities, but could it somehow help me get out of there? Glancing at the steel door, I couldn’t see how it would be that beneficial.

“Let’s move on. Hannah, pull up the hearing tests.”

“Wait,” I said. “Tell me what you did to me. What did that procedure do?”

“It enabled your abilities. You’ll see as we go through the week. Of course, some of your abilities won’t show up for a few more weeks, or even months. We aren’t even sure of all you can do yet. Your DNA is still responding to the procedure. It’s similar to how your DNA adjusted after the different enhancements we’ve made to you over the years.”

“What enhancements? How did you make enhancements? How did you get access—”

“I can’t go into the details. But over the years we’ve been able to experiment with turning different sections of your genes on and off in order to get them to do what we want them to do. Such as express certain traits.”

“What kind of traits?”

“Behavioral traits, mainly. We simply enhance the personality traits that we want you to express and suppress those that we don’t. Samantha, haven’t you ever wondered why you’re so obedient? So diligent about following rules and doing what you’re told? Always doing what society expects of you rather than following your own path?”

I thought about each word. He was describing me exactly.
 

“We designed you to express those traits through your genes. But just recently, you’ve been acting out more, questioning things, and even defying authority. Just look how difficult you’ve been since you woke up here. We aren’t sure why this is happening. We’re actually working on fixing that now.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. So my whole personality had been created? Was any of it really me? And what did he mean when he said it was being fixed? Was my real personality trying to break through? Actually, since the accident, I was starting to feel like I was thinking more independently than I ever had before. And I was starting to question things more.

I reluctantly went along with Dr. Murray’s testing that day, mainly to learn for myself what I was capable of. The hearing tests showed that I could hear words spoken in a whisper up to 100 feet away, which was even better than the exceptional hearing I had before the procedure.
 

My vision was also tested. It was better than 20/20, which wasn’t extraordinary but was far better than the 20/200 vision I had before. Dr. Murray explained that vision takes longer to develop, adding that I would see a significant improvement over the following weeks. An unexpected outcome of the procedure was that I could now see perfectly in the dark, like having built-in night vision goggles—an ability that could be useful in an escape. Because of that, I didn’t mention that ability to my captors.

The next few days were grueling. Hannah continued to document every minute, but Dr. Murray was replaced with a group of neuroscientists brought in to study and evaluate the new powers of my mind. I was put through an endless series of tests, with machines scanning my brain continuously. Images were flashed in front of me while monitors recorded my brain’s response. Videos showing different versions of the same scene played for hours, apparently to see how my brain would react during times of stress or uncertainty.