Friday, January 12, 1996
Friday morning dawned with a predicted high of only 37 degrees and a low of 19. Pretty average for winter in the north. Meant the gas bill would be higher this month. Mike lay on his futon swaddled in thin blankets, staring at a crack in the ceiling just out of his direct line of vision and listening to the weather people talk. Hopefully, it wouldn't snow today, because his winter boots were tearing and he couldn't just buy new ones. The snow already on the ground was enough. Finally tiring of the incoming cold-front discussion, Mike reached out of his blankets for the remote and changed the channel.
"-has been reported and appears to be a suicide, however, police are investigating. Neighbours have said that he seemed normal, no strange behaviour or contact in the area. Homicide seems unlikely as neighbours, family, and friends have stated that this man had no enemies…"
A death. The night Kali had gone out to do something. Interesting. Mike's brain whirled with possibilities, recalling that when she had told him about Kali, she'd been nervous to tell him exactly what it was that Kali and her gang did. But he remembered. And it was certainly suspicious that this man, apparently without enemies, was found dead the day after.
Mike went to work thinking about it, staring out the window on the bus and then at people's shoes on the train. He debated the pros and cons of going to see Kali himself because while he wanted to talk to her, he was pretty sure she was responsible for that guy's death and he didn't want to meet the same fate. In the end, though, he decided he'd visit her anyway. His need to know what happened after she left was greater than any fear of Kali that he might have.
Work was pretty boring until his coworker Jake cornered him during their lunch hour.
"Hey, Mike," said Jake, sitting down across from Mike in the staff room. "Are you doing okay today, buddy?"
It could be said that Jake was the closest thing Mike had to a friend in Boston. They talked sometimes and had previously hung out outside of work a few times. They got along, which was important in a workplace where cooperation was often necessary, and Jake knew Mike took antidepressants, which was pretty personal, so it was a testament to Jake's trustworthiness.
But still. Jake never asked him questions like that. Mike raised a brow and bit into his measly ham sandwich.
"As okay as usual, I guess," he answered. "Why?"
Jake's gaze meant he was concerned, Mike could tell immediately. He'd seen it a thousand times over the course of the last seven years, from varying people in varying situations but always the same look. Jake was never going to understand, just like no one else ever had. Except for her. But she wasn't around anymore.
Jake pursed his lips. "You seem distracted today, I was just wondering if something happened."
Yeah, something happened, Jake, Mike thought bitterly. The love of my life left me without a warning seven years ago and I've been depressed since, I never see my friends, and my parents don't speak to me. I'm doing fucking great.
Out loud, he said, "Yeah, I've got some stuff on my mind. Nothing major." It was a lie, but he'd never be willing or capable of explaining the truth to Jake.
Jake nodded like he wasn't sure whether to believe Mike, but he didn't press the issue. Instead, he made small talk about the hockey game last night. Apparently, some team or other did something unexpected and Jake wasn't sure how to feel about it, but Mike didn't care about hockey. He never had, not even before everything.
He finished his sandwich as quick as he could and almost sprinted back to the register in relief. He worked the rest of the afternoon and evening with relatively little human interaction outside of the customers he rang up, same as usual. When his shift ended, he rushed to leave before he had to speak to anyone. Talking to his other coworkers just tired him out, so he liked to avoid it if he could.
Mike ate a banana on the way to the warehouse. That was probably going to be his dinner, he wasn't sure how long he'd be there or what he even had at home. When he got there, he paused to look at it. The warehouse looked the same as it did last night, but Mike felt his skin crawl at how close he might be to knowing what he'd been after for the better part of a decade. Kali or her sister could be inside right now and they could tell him just what he wanted to know. Maybe then he could find some peace and be able to move on with his life, something he'd tried awfully hard to do but hadn't been able to accomplish.
This time, he found that the upstairs window he entered through the night before was closed, leaving him with no option but to enter using the large front doors. He could see that something broke the chain on the padlock, and he wondered what it was because it was an oddly clean break. He did his best not to make noise, but it was kind of inevitable in a place like that; everything is metal and it's all rusty, especially the door hinges. In any case, he walked slowly and carefully, coming upon the large main room again only to find it empty. The ratty mattresses were still on the floor, but no sign of people.
Mike stuck close to the wall, shuffling sideways along it. There might not be anyone on this floor, but there could very well be someone upstairs on the platforms like the one he'd been on last night, and he wanted to keep out of sight for as long as he could. He didn't want to be attacked immediately. He managed to get into the room that held the files, figuring that since it seemed neither Kali nor her sister were there, he might as well take a look at the files again. If they were there, turning the light on in the room would attract them, and hopefully, they wouldn't kill him immediately.
This time, Mike went straight to the subject files, bypassing the news articles altogether. He scrabbled through the pile until he found number eleven again. It was a face he hadn't seen in seven years, and she definitely didn't look the same seven years ago as she did in the picture he was looking at right now, but at the same time, she did. The shape of her face, her eyes, the expression- all the same. She grew, sure, but she was still the same scared girl on the inside. Years of abuse will do that to you.
He read on.
S, it listed. Telekinesis, extrasensory perception, psychometry, technopathy, biokinesis, teleportation
S, it continued. Minimal spoken language, occasional episodes of opposition/defiance, prone to nosebleeds
Huh. Mike hadn't known she could teleport. Or about the psychometry part. He wondered if maybe those were one-time things, but then he looked at her file again and the clinical coldness of it made him sick. She was a person. A kid. How could anyone stand to work somewhere that treated children like lab rats and sleep at night?
He flipped to number eight and looked at the face of a child that he recognized as the purple-haired woman he saw yesterday, or if he was correct, Kali. The file was organized exactly the same way.
: Illusion, manipulation of senses
: Rebellious behavior, multiple episodes of opposition/defiance, prone to nosebleeds
All of the files were organized the same way, Mike noticed as he went through them, even the older ones, although some of them had red stamps on the bottom reading, TERMINATED. His skin crawled at the thought of what that could mean.
He didn't know how long he'd been standing in that room, reading, when he heard an unexpected sound. It was a growl. He looked up and immediately panicked. There was a rabid dog standing in the corner, foaming at the mouth and looking like it was about to attack. Mike backed up into the wall before he realized that this didn't make sense. The dog wouldn't have just walked past him to the other side of the room, it would've bitten him right away.
"You're right, it isn't real," came a voice from the doorway. "Smart of you. But I am."
He whipped around and it was Kali, aiming a pistol right at his head.
"Woah!" Mike exclaimed, dropping the files and holding his hands up. He might not have been having the best time in life right now, but he didn't want to die, either. "Don't shoot me!"
Kali raised an eyebrow. She was small but intimidating; Mike definitely never wanted to get on her bad side.
"Why shouldn't I?" She asked. "Who are you and what do you want with us?"
She didn't know that there were young people working for Brenner now; this guy looked younger than her. She figured he must be involved with the lab somehow; he was looking through the files from there, she was fairly sure this was the same person her sister told her was in here last night, and he looked vaguely familiar. What other connection could there be?
He swallowed. "My name's Mike. Mike Wheeler. And I'm looking for Eleven."
Kali's thoughts stopped for a moment. He was looking for Jane… she wasn't at the warehouse at the moment, as she wanted to be alone for a while, but she was here last night. How this man didn't realize she was right under his nose was too much for Kali to comprehend right now.
She narrowed her eyes and walked closer, keeping her gun trained on him. Something was nagging at her, trying to get her to remember. Why was his face familiar?
"Why are you looking for Eleven?"
"She, um-" Mike paused and looked down, his hands fidgeting nervously. "She left home seven years ago, and I- I just want to know what happened to her. I know you're her sister, so I figured if anyone would know it might be you."
His heart was in his throat. Was Kali going to shoot him or was she going to tell him what he wanted so desperately to know? She wasn't saying anything, merely scrutinizing him from behind her pistol.
"How did you know her?"
He felt like he might start crying any minute now. He thought about that sometimes. What was he to her? That she could just leave so easily without even a proper goodbye? What did he mean to her?
"I was her boyfriend," he said, and his voice cracked. "I don't know if she ever told you about me, but we met when she first escaped. I was the one who took her in, she lived in my basement for a week."
Suddenly, Kali remembered where she recognized his face from. Her sister had a locket that she never took off, and it had a picture of this guy in it. Granted, he was probably about sixteen or seventeen in it at the maximum, but he looked pretty much the same now. Just older, more tired. Kali took pity on him and lowered her gun. He immediately relaxed.
"How did you find me?" She asked. She wasn't sure whether Jane wanted to see this man, because there were things that he didn't know. And he couldn't know. At least not right now.
"I was at the CVS the other night, I saw you with your sister," he answered. "And I work at Macy's, so I followed you guys here last night because I thought you were acting weird. Then I saw these files and I realized you had to be connected to the lab."
Kali almost laughed at the irony. He was looking for Jane and yet he'd seen her three times and not realized it was her. She supposed it was a trick of fate, though; Jane would be better prepared if she chose to see him rather than if she were surprised.
Mike's throat was closing up at Kali's silence, and his eyes were burning. A second later he felt the first tear fall from his eye, running hot down his cheek. This hadn't happened in a while. It only happened on the worst of his days, but now that he was so close to finding out what happened to her he almost didn't want to know. What if the answer was exactly what he most hoped he wouldn't hear?
"I just want to know what happened to her, if she's okay," he said defeatedly. "I've spent the time since I last saw her trying to find her."
Kali felt sorry for him. For both of them. She'd been a close witness to her sister's suffering since she left her family and friends behind because of that devil Brenner. The first year was the worst, not only because it was a fresh wound, but because at the same time Jane was dealing with something bigger than herself. Something she didn't know how she would cope with. But Kali couldn't tell this Mike about any of it. He didn't know and she was fairly sure Jane didn't want him to know.
When she looked back at him after contemplating what she could and could not say to him, he was still crying. She could tell, even though he'd turned away from her and braced himself against the table.
"I can tell you she is alive," Kali started. "And as well as can be, considering the circumstances."
His breath shuddered. "Thank you," was what he said, and his voice was raw. "Did she- ever say anything, you know, about us?"
Kali nodded sadly. "She misses all of you. But especially her policeman. And you."
He didn't respond and Kali was hoping that Jane wouldn't come back before he left. They were going to have to talk about, this, though. She thought of something.
"Where do you live?" She asked. "I'm going to be here for a bit, but in case I need to find you."
Mike left her with his address and he thought she looked like she might hug him or something, but then thought better of it. He spent the next half hour going home in a mindless haze, only able to focus on the words echoing through his brain.
She is alive. And as well as can be.
She's alive.
He didn't even make it to the futon before he collapsed against a wall, in tears again. He felt like the scab over his heart had been ripped off, the tear underneath that she'd left all those years ago newly opened. She's alive. He wondered what kept her from telling any of them. Maybe she just didn't think it was important enough. Maybe she forgot they cared about her. Maybe she forgot they loved her.
Maybe she forgot she loved him.
His heart had been irreparably broken since the day she left, and he wasn't sure seeing her again would help. But he hoped Kali would visit him.
