The Sphinx Project (10 page)

It took so much effort not to hit as hard as I could. I barely contained the anxiety willing me to do so. Forcing the emotion to the side, I restrained my strength to a level acceptable for a toddler. Every motion sent pain jarring down the entire length of my arm.

The water drained from her lips, but she still wasn't breathing and she was starting to turn blue.

"Kelly!" a woman shrieked, the same voice that alerted me to the danger the little girl was in to begin with.

Lifting my head momentarily, I saw a woman bleeding profusely from her face. She clasped her obviously pregnant belly in pain while attempting to run in the knee-deep water.

So this tiny creature was Kelly, I thought with a weird sense of wonder.

The woman reached me and was attempting to rip her child from my grip, but a man grasped her, circling her within his arms. He nodded to me grimly above her head, silently instructing me to continue my attempts.

More water drained from Kelly's mouth, but her eyes stayed closed. Judging that her lungs had sufficiently emptied, I turned her over and began blowing air into her lungs.

After what seemed like an age, her tiny eyelids fluttered open to reveal terrified forget-me-not blue eyes, which promptly flooded with tears. Exhausted sobs rocked her body as she started to cry. I turned to her mother, hugging the little girl close.

The mom broke free of the man's hold and rushed forward, grasping her little girl tightly to her.

"Thank you. Oh my God, thank you, thank you. Thank you!" She planted dozens of kisses across Kelly's little face and the blond curls now plastered to her head.

She started crooning motherly love to little Kelly and eventually the child fell quiet. She sucked her little thumb, her wide eyes taking in the scene around us.

As the mother fussed over her child, I lifted my eyes and for the first time surveyed the destruction and chaos around us.

The pier was gone—well, it was no longer in its original resting place, anyway.

Pieces of steel barrier, concrete slabs and massive logs littered the beach interspersed with seaweed, sand and fish.

Almost all of the buildings remained standing, despite the fact most looked like they shouldn't be. Garbage and stock from the shops littered the pavement. The bronze statue of the surfer that had sat at the beginning of the pier was now lodged between a palm tree and a trash can—the two German girls had managed to grasp onto it and prevent themselves from being swept away.

People were everywhere, some picking themselves up, sodden from the ground, some staggering around in an attempt to find family, friends and belongings. Even more were scattered among the debris, moaning, groaning or simply lying still. A young guy in the middle of the promenade had very obviously broken legs. The angle of his bones made me sick.

"We have to go!" Someone grabbed my bad arm, swinging me 'round.

A scream escaped from my throat. Pain once again tore at the limb right to my shoulder. I folded forward as vomit forced its way from my stomach.

During the time I'd been caring for Kelly the adrenaline had allowed me to forget the agony, but when it faded, the burning returned twice as fast. Luckily it was over soon. I raised my embarrassed face to see the man from earlier; I still didn't know his name.

"Come on, we need to go now!"

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" I replied, stepping back. The movement hurt.

"You don't have a choice. They'll find you if you stay here!"

"Come on, Kayla," Mouse said, her voice floating over his shoulder.

"No. I don't trust him. He won't even tell us his name!"

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes steady, before he spoke. "'Yet you remain true to my name. You did not renounce your faith in me, not even in the days of Antipas, my faithful witness, who was put to death in your city—where Satan lives.'"

I couldn't tell if it was my injuries, the sound of his voice or the words he spoke that enthralled me, but I found myself gazing at him. I pored over the words, every syllable echoing in my ears.

It was a verse from the Bible. Mom had made me memorize it when I was only four. She'd said that if anyone ever spoke those words to me, I could trust that they were on our side.

She'd been raised in a strict Christian family but had left them for the chance to become a mother. She'd still worn her cross under her shirt even though the scientists insisted she offer us no religious teachings.

I became aware of the sirens approaching and the helicopter buzzing above. Mouse came to my aid, wrapping her arms around me. She ushered me toward the parking lot behind the hostel to where we'd parked our car.

"No, no, we can't go. What about Nicole and Briana?" I panicked. "Where are they? Did the wave get them?"

"They're meeting us at the car," the man responded, leaving no doubt that he was in a hurry.

Guilt pushed in on me, passing all of the people twitching on the ground. I didn't have enough strength left to fight against Mouse's firm grip. My legs wobbled as I poured my energy into staying upright. There was no way I could help any of them.

As we passed the hostel, I caught sight of Nicole and Briana climbing from the window of our room, our bags slung over their shoulders.

We waited for them before rounding the corner, only to stop short at the condition of the parking lot. Our car was currently upside down, wedged between two other vehicles.

"Keep going. We'll find something else," the man ordered.

"We can't," Nicole protested. "We need our stuff. We can't leave it here."

He tried again to insist on leaving it but Nicole overrode him. She and Briana crawled into the car, retrieving the bags and equipment before we continued on our way. None of the girls appeared any worse for wear except that their clothes stuck to them, drenched with water.

I was struggling, my muscles aching. The bruises and cuts all over my body constantly reminded me of their presence. Red began creeping across my vision. Raising my good hand to my face, I found a steady flow of blood seeping from a cut in my hairline.

"She needs a hospital," Nicole urged the man.

"She can't go to one. What do you think they'll do when she heals overnight?" he pointed out.

We walked for another twenty minutes. Well, the others walked and I kind of stumbled along, carried by Mouse and Nicole. None of my limbs would work properly. We received no attention—everyone else was distracted, attending to the injured and the ill. We were moving, therefore in no need of assistance.

"Why did you guys get off so easily?" I muttered, slurring a little.

"Because we looked out for our own skins," Nicole murmured in reply. She showed no remorse at her admission, concentrating on picking her way between the debris littering the streets.

We came to a shiny blue car and the man unlocked it. Nicole and Mouse climbed into the back. I was laid across their laps before Briana closed the door and settled herself into the passenger seat.

I don't know how long we drove for, everything kept fading into darkness. They shook me, waking me every couple of minutes. The sadists—they could all hear my heart beat and breathing, so they didn't need to keep waking me up.

After some time (at least six rounds of sleeping and being rudely woken up; I lost count after that), we pulled into a small parking garage on the side of a house. A beep signaled that the electronic door was closing and the room fell into shadow.

Chapter Twelve

They carefully maneuvered me out of the car. Every movement sent pain racing around my body; if there had been anything left in my stomach, I'd have been sick again.

"James? James, are you okay? I saw on the—" The woman, barging through the internal door to the garage, stopped immediately when she saw us with the mystery man, whose name was apparently James. "Were you? Were you there?" she stuttered, taking in our wet clothing and ragged appearance.

"We're fine." He brushed away her concerned hand. "What was on the news? Were there videos?"

"They only had a quick special report. There'll be more on the regular news." She babbled, her relief at seeing James obvious upon her face.

Suddenly her eyes fell upon me, partially hidden behind the other girls. "James, what on earth happened to her? She's in terrible shape! Come in, all of you. Take your shoes off at the door," she instructed. The panic was gone and a tone of command firmly settled into her voice.

"Sarah!" the woman yelled.

"Just a minute," a muffled voice replied from somewhere upstairs.

"Now." The tone of her voice seemed to indicate she was used to the response.

I could hear a door opening upstairs before someone bounded lightly down the steps. As she rounded the corner, my heart pounded and a lump of fear rose in my throat. For a fraction of a moment it overpowered the pain.

Nicole was in front of me in an instant. Mouse placed herself between the woman and me, while Briana squared off against James. I saw Mouse's hands move to her hips, reaching for weapons that were no longer there. Everything was in the car.

Sarah, with her blond hair tied back in a messy bun, looked a lot more comfortable in jeans than the times we'd seen her wearing scrubs in the labs, and a lot more relaxed than us. Her eyes flickered over us and worry clouded her features.

"Girls," James said, sounding a little alarmed, "this is my daughter, Sarah. She's been keeping an eye on you for the last couple of years."

"But she works for the labs!" Nicole exclaimed in disgust.

"I
worked
there," Sarah corrected. "Dad's contacts got me the placement. I was only there to watch in case they decided to sell you off early, before we could get you out. You took care of that little detail all by yourselves though," she finished in an admiring tone. "What happened to you?"

"Tsunami," James replied, as if it were a normal occurrence.

"Why didn't you help us before now?" Nicole demanded.

"And do what?" Sarah asked. "How would I be any help to you if I blew my cover and got myself killed?" She had a point.

"How did you not know Mom was dead?" I asked, turning to James. My head was fuzzy. The grogginess that had been stealing over me since the wave was starting to make my thoughts lag.

"I knew she was dead. I didn't know when."

"We don't have time for this," the other woman said. "We need to get her patched up and then we need to figure out what to do with all of you."

The others weren't totally convinced by Sarah's explanation, but I was past caring. It was probably stupid, but James' verification that he had Mom's blessing was enough for me. I wanted to pass out.

I was moved into the kitchen where they laid me upon a long marble counter in the middle. The woman shooed everyone but Mouse and Sarah away before hovering over me, running her hands over my limbs.

"Dislocated," she murmured to herself, as her gentle hands brushed over my shoulder. "What's your name?"

Mouse answered for me when I didn't reply—my head throbbed painfully. "Kayla. Michaela."

Sarah drew a large first aid kit from below the kitchen sink, opening it and withdrawing a sterile set of hypodermic needles. She handed them to the woman.

"Are you trained to use those?" Mouse asked, eying the needles.

"I was an emergency room doctor before I met James, but we can't settle anywhere long enough for me to find a job in that field. James finds plenty of use for my skills though." She looked like she expected us to understand her comment, but it confused me more. I could hear a hint of sadness in her voice as she spoke about her past career.

"Okay, Michaela, I'm going to start with your shoulder. The longer we leave that, the harder it's going to be to reset. This is a muscle relaxant. It'll make this easier and less painful for you."

Mouse took my uninjured hand and held tight. I squeezed my eyes closed, the muscles in my face protesting against the sudden movement. I tried to keep my shoulder relaxed, knowing it was supposed to hurt less, but it didn't settle my breathing.

"Calm down," Mouse whispered, running her thumb back and forth over my wrist.

I couldn't help it though. My breathing came faster and faster until the woman withdrew the needle. She slid it from my arm smoothly, taking care not to snag the tip.

The woman—who eventually told us her name was Julie—gave the muscle relaxants time to kick in. When she deemed it appropriate, Sarah and Mouse helped me to sit upright.

As Mouse and Sarah held me, Julie positioned my arm so it just hung there. She bent my elbow and rotated it, first into my stomach, then out again. It hurt, a lot, but the sharp pain subsided immediately as the shoulder popped back into place. The relief was immediate, but I was still too exhausted to move as they lowered me back onto the cool marble. I sighed when the smooth stone came into contact with my hot back.

Julie set my arm in a cast, having somehow determined I'd broken my wrist. The cast reached from my elbow to the base of my thumb. She cleaned and patched the rest of my injuries before she and Mouse helped me bathe.

"Why do you have so much equipment?" I managed to mumble. The subject had fleetingly crossed my thoughts earlier and for some reason, it felt important to know.

"You aren't the first person James has brought home in bad condition, nor the worst. There are more of you than you think and most can't use public hospitals."

"Why can't they go to a hospital?"

"To begin with, most of you have no documentation. As far as the government's concerned, you don't exist. Second, they're all hiding, too. They don't want to take the chance that they'll be found. And last, not all of them appear completely human."

The last part caught my attention.

"Like the creatures that have been on the news?"

"No, not at all. They're exactly like you, except some of the gene manipulation has left physical abnormalities such as webbed fingers or colored skin."

"I didn't realize there were so many others," I said as Mouse helped me into a towel.

"There are more than you can imagine… The South Carolina lab is one of many, and the program has been running for much longer than you've been alive."