Chapter 1: Beginnings
"Ma, where are my keys?" Kathryn yelled up the stairs. When silence followed her question she huffed into the air and threw her arms up in exasperation. "Ma!" she yelled again.
"If you want to talk to me you can come upstairs," her mother yelled back. Kathryn slapped her hand against her forehead, drawing it slowly down her face. Her room down in the basement and it was completely ripped apart. She'd been searching for the keys to her '87 Kawasaki KZ305, but she hadn't been able to find them. There were clothes littered on the floor, papers everywhere, and her cat Jojo snuggled up right in the middle of her bed. Jojo was a lovely little Siamese; very petite and lady-like accept when it came to her eating habits. She greatly enjoyed the heads of baby bunny rabbits.
Kathryn ran up the stairs, her feet pounding in her rush. She turned once she got to the top only to practically run right into her mom. Kathryn struggled to keep herself from falling backwards, pin-wheeling her arms slightly.
"Mom," she said, but her mother cut her off by swinging a set of keys on her right index finger. Kathryn's shoulders relaxed with a sigh of relief. "Where were they?" Kathryn's mom didn't look very amused with her daughter. Her own brown eyes looked through gray-lanced brown hair down at her daughter.
"They were on the key hook where they were suppose to be and," she said, her eyes looking at her daughter from foot to the top of her head, "you are going nowhere on that motorcycle of yours dressed like that." Kathryn was wearing a pair of blue jeans, the boots she normally wore when she went for a ride on her bike, and a plain blue tank top that cut slightly low. Her shoulder length ochre hair was pulled back behind her head with a rubber band at the nape of her neck. Her hair wasn't nearly as dark as her mom's had been, probably because her dad had been a blonde.
"Mom, c'mon there's nothing wrong with it. Hardly anything is showing, it's too hot to wander around on the tour in anything else," her mother could be exasperating sometime. Heaven forbid any skin, sunburnt, tanned, or pasty white should be seen on her daughter. "Besides I'm turning eighteen this year, you can't keep–"
"I wasn't referring to your choice of clothing," her mother said, her voice dropping an octave. That was a sure sign that Kathryn was starting to aggravate her mom. "I was referring to that bike of yours. If you crash you're going to get covered in road burn and heaven knows what else. I told you when you bought that thing that you would be wearing your leathers and helmet every time you ride it." Her mom slapped the keys into Kathryn's outstretched hand. "I don't understand why you won't just take my car, you're driving up to Bemidji and it's the busy season."
"You know I can't stand that thing," Kathryn argued back, pulling her leather chaps and jacket out of the hallway closet. Her backpack was already packed for the over-nighter she'd be spending in some rinky-dink town up north.
"It's got a five star safety test rating; it gets forty miles to the gallon highway," her mother started to argue. Kathryn scowled at her mom, pushing her bangs out of her face. "Unless of course you're–" her mom started to say.
"Mother," Kathryn interrupted, "I don't care what your high and fancy-to-do shrink says. Admitting it won't help got it?" Kathryn was claustrophobic and her mother had spoken to a psychologist about it several times and now seemed to think she was equipped to deal with it. "I feel like some, some… I don't know, second rate freak because of it alright?" Irrational fear just wasn't her thing, but every time Kathryn had attempted to get inside of her mother's Prius she'd had a sever panic attack. The thing was an older model and it wasn't quite as luxurious on space as the newer ones were. Every time she sat down in it and closed the door her breathing became labored and even though she could see out of the windows, even with the windows rolled down, she felt trapped. Putting the seat belt on didn't help. Anything that came in close against her body, other then her clothing, would trigger an attack.
When Kathryn was about twelve or thirteen years old, she couldn't remember, there'd been a nasty storm outside in their old place. Her mom wasn't home yet and William had gone out to hang with his friends assuming his mother would be home to watch his little sister. The storm winds had gotten up to one hundred miles an hour causing the house to shake and rattle. Kathryn had hid herself inside of the closet, but when a tree fell on top of the house she'd been trapped inside until her mom and the fire crew had been able to get her out. By that point she'd made a mess of herself.
Her mom leaned in and wrapped her arms around Kathryn, ignoring the way her daughter stiffened. Even human contact, a hug, someone being too close, could cause a panic attack. Most of the time, like now, Kathryn could handle it, but it was still uncomfortable. Her mom let go of her only a short time later and tried to hide the hurt she felt when Kathryn sighed with relief.
"Alright," she said, "but be careful. I wish you'd consider letting me buy you one of those trucks… One of those big monsters, you don't seem to have too much trouble with them." It was true, for some reason larger vehicles didn't frighten her as much. Maybe it was because she was so busy listening to the purr of that powerful engine, a purr that put Jojo to shame.
"Ma, I know you want to, but I told you," this was an old debate between mother and daughter, "I want to save up for one on my own and you still owe me that girl's trip out to California for my tattoo." No sooner had she said those words than her mother's face started to turn red. Her eyes sparked almost like lightning, but before her mother could explode about how tattoos were for street-bikers Kathryn leaned in, kissed her mother on the cheek, scooped up her bag and helmet before ducking out the door. "Love ya ma! See you tomorrow!"
"Don't think you've gotten out of this discussion!" her mother yelled, "Love you too."
The poor old thing that was her motorcycle had seen better days. Together with her older brother William they'd managed to fix the engine up, replacing roughly eighty five percent of what was original with new parts. The gas tank which had originally been red was now peeling, rust had managed to encrust some of it and get under the paint. Living in Minnesota did that to all vehicles because of the heavy winter and the salt. When she'd bought it the owner had left it sitting on the side of the road all winter, but because of that she'd been able to talk him down to five hundred bucks primarily because it no longer run and it would need a lot of restoration work. Something her brother intended to do during his college courses. William was the one with the talent, Kathryn was really just a jack of all trades, master of none and couldn't focus on anything long enough to get really good at it.
It took only a few seconds to slide her chaps on, secure them and put on her leather jacket. Helmet following and slinging her backpack over her shoulders Kathryn straddled the bike and hit the ignition, turning her key and hearing the tell-tale roar of the bike. The sensation of the engine reverberating against her legs sent a reckless smile across her lips. She patted the gas tank before swiping the kick stand off the ground and backing up, her feet just barely managing to touch the ground. Being only five feet four inches tall made it difficult for her to ride her bike, but after a lot of practice she'd learned how to do it. Once she was turned around she revved the engine earning a reproachful look from their neighbor. In the middle of summer most of their neighbors spent their time outside and didn't appreciate the noise of her bike. All she could smell at that point was the delicious scent of freshly mowed grass and the flowers in her mother's garden outside of their house, but the smell of last night's rain was still clinging to every wet blade of grass and the leaves of the maple trees out front.
Kathryn was already cooking and the sooner she got onto the highway and into the breeze the better. Once she was outside of Duluth on the highway to her destination somewhere a little north of Bemidji she'd strip off her leather jacket at the very least, it was way too warm to be wearing the damn thing besides she had a jean jacket packed in her backpack. She'd put that on instead.
Once she'd managed to get through the morning traffic Kathryn turned off on the road that would lead her off towards Bemidji where she'd turn off and head deeper into the woods. The facility she'd been invited to tour with perspective college students was way out in the boonies. Evidently it was some kind of testing facility. The only reason she was going was to try and make a good impression on the college professor who'd asked her to join them. He worked at the University she was interested in going to, but getting in was a little hard so she hoped to show that she was willing to work a little harder to get in, maybe he'd put a good word in for her. The invitation had seemed a little fishy though. Maybe it was the way he looked her up and down before inviting her, or maybe… Kathryn shook her head from side to side. She'd stopped a while back to put her lighter jean jacket on, packing away her leather jacket
The drive to Brigsby Minnesota took the better part of seven hours. The tour wasn't scheduled to begin until eight that evening, which gave Kathryn time to check into her motel room and take a shower after the long sweaty drive. When she'd looked up Brigsby online she wasn't surprised to see that it was pretty much a one horse kind of town. There was no school, the kids were bussed off to a larger city, and there was a gas station, a courthouse/post office, a tiny gift shop and a grocery store. The motel she was staying at was technically outside of city limits and supposedly didn't count as part of the town.
It was a broken down little thing that was probably experiencing the busiest night of the summer so far. All of the would-be students who had opted to go on the tour of the research facility had booked a room at this no-named motel. The insides, thankfully, were in better condition then the outside. Kathryn, according to the sign-in sheet the processor had left, was one of the first to check in. With her key in hand, given to her by the sullenly bored desk clerk, she made her way to room number 4 where she'd be staying that night. As soon as the mandatory bug check had been preformed Kathryn stripped herself down and showered using the soap, shampoo, and conditioner she'd brought from home. She hated using the stuff motels and hotels provided their guests. It always dried out her hair and made it frizzy. The water was surprisingly soft in comparison to the tap water back home; she couldn't even smell any kind of chemical treatment. It had to have been well water.
Three p.m. came and went while she was in the shower, having reached town roughly about two-two thirty. The tour of the facility wasn't scheduled until eight o'clock, but Kathryn had come early hoping she could have a look around the place on her own before they were rushed through on what would be a crowded tour, but one call to the facility burned those plans. They weren't open during the day which struck odd with Kathryn, but she supposed it didn't matter. With a look around at the dusky brown room with it's single bed side table, lamp, and crème colored sheets she decided the best thing to do was to go out and have a look around the town before getting something to eat. She just hoped to pick up something microwavable from the grocery store, or a cold sandwich maybe. How could this town not have a Subway at least?
As it turned out there had been a Subway at one point, but it had been closed down earlier in the year due to renovations. Kathryn was definitely out of the city now, not that she minded too much. It was kind of a neat place with ever-green trees surrounding most everything; long needles bouncing the sun off their length with the almost tangy scent that perforated the air. There was a lake with a few docks just behind the gift shop for fishing and currently a group of kids were in the water screaming with laughter. One by one they dunked each other into the brown colored water. A lot of the lakes in Minnesota she knew were brackish, dark colored, because of the types of rock, sand, and vegetation that were swallowed up in the water. It was a startling contrast to the blue colored water of Lake Superior and from what she could hear this lake was a lot warmer or the new trio of kids wouldn't have been jumping right in.
When Kathryn made it to the grocery store she was in luck. Because of the lack of a restaurant the owner of the store had set up an area where customers could sit down and eat what they'd purchased if they were staying at the local motel. Once she'd purchased a deli sandwich, salad, and bottled water Kathryn chose a spot off in the corner of the little sitting room. Once she'd settled in she took the time to look at the other customers who'd chosen to eat here at the store like she had. All of them looked roughly her age, possibly others waiting to take a tour, but the man who approached her table was definitely not a prospective student.
Grey streaked blonde haired with a crew cut fit for military life-style the man had a goatee that was three shades darker then the hair on the top of his head. His grey eyes looked her up and down while his thin lips smiled over perfectly straight teeth. Together with a slightly squared off chin and moderately muscular body this was the type of guy that could get any girl to fall head over heels for him. Any girl, that is, who would be interested in a guy who was so full of himself that he sat down in the seat opposite her without asking permission.
Up close Kathryn had to admit that he was quite the looker… for a forty-odd year old man. He wore one of those plain white t-shirts that were shaped to accent any muscle, or fat, a guy had on his body. A pair of faded black jeans and a simple black belt around his waist with military grade boots on his feet. Definitely one of those guys who didn't like a complicated wardrobe. Kathryn took another bite out of her sandwich and turned to the side, pulling out her cell phone and keying up a book to read on the application she'd recently downloaded. Just because the guy had sat here didn't mean she had to talk to him. Kathryn didn't think herself the prom queen beauty type so unless he was here for an easy ride or to just bother her she didn't know, but she wasn't some stupid chick who let anything a guy say go to her head.
He just sat there. Watching her while she finished what was left of her sandwich and started on her salad. It was like he was waiting for just the right opportunity to engage her in conversation. Unfortunately Kathryn wasn't normally that delicate with her silver ware and as soon as she'd turned the 'page' on her book and reached for her fork again she bumped it and the black bit of plastic silverware went straight for the floor.
With a start Kathryn sat up straight, reaching for the fork only to grab a rough and callused hand instead. A crawl raced down her spine at the split-second's contact with the older man's hand before she ripped her own away, looking over at the grey-eyed forty-some year old man. He smiled, flashing a grin she was certain he'd worked on in a mirror for hours a day until he got it 'just right.' His grin might have gotten other women to woo over him, but it sent Kathryn's stomach into knots. She just about felt sick when he tried to offer her fork back.
"You uh, dropped this," he said. His voice was slightly accented and she suspected he came from further down south, but not too far. There wasn't enough there to pinpoint where he came from. She placed the lid on top of her salad and shrugged. If she could give him the hint hard and fast maybe he'd leave her alone. After touching him even for that split second she wasn't feeling hungry anymore.
"Uh, yeah," she said "I know that." An embarrassed look crossed his face, blush and all, that looked real enough, but the way his eyes seemed to laugh at her told her it was fake. He was good, but she suspected even he knew just how fake he was. His skin now that she really looked at it was really tanned like he never spent a day inside in his life which was a really strange off set to the grey and blonde hair on his head. He waited while Kathryn eyed him up, his grin turning to one of those slow and easy heart-melters.
"Sorry," he said, but he didn't sound sorry at all. "I guess I just reacted too quickly, you were pretty fast too though," Kathryn rolled her eyes faintly as the guy leaned forward, offering out the hand that wasn't holding his fork. "My name is John Wright, kind of a plain name I know, but what can I say?" he winked at her, actually winked. Kathryn knew this guy was trying to get something because she wasn't worth quite the effort this guy was putting up to get her to talk to him. Sure there was something attractive about her tawny colored hair, and maybe some people found brown eyes charming, but the uneven tan and the often sun burnt appearance of her skin wasn't something people would find attractive in a woman. Not only that but she had a small bust and was only faintly curvy.
That wasn't to say she wasn't pretty, just not the material a guy like him normally went after. Busty, beautiful, golden hair, bright blue eyes, supple lips, a big trunk, and a small brain were probably his normal targets. Evidently a tour of the local research facility didn't bring in the cheerleading squad if he was trying to talk to her.
"So I uh," he said with a nervous chuckle, "I'm guessing you're one of the students who's going on a tour of the facility outside of town?" he asked. Kathryn picked up her salad container and sandwich wrapper, stuffing her bottle of water into her backpack.
"Yep," she said and not giving him any more then that.
"You realize that you'll be picked up by a bus right? You won't be allowed to ride out there in your own vehicles. What I heard from the other students was that the professor was going to pick you all up in a short bus." He flashed another grin his one eye a little more shut then the other to accentuate his grey colored eyes. His eyes frightened her out the most. She didn't know another living being that could mimic emotion in otherwise dead eyes. It was like they were made out of flat paint. Just grey, that was all there was surrounding the black iris. Kathryn stood up to leave merely shrugging her shoulders.
"Yep," she said again and without saying good bye she pushed herself out of the chair and turned her back on him. Kathryn heard the loud scrape of a chair being pushed back, the faint clatter of a plastic fork being dropped on the floor before a vice like grip wrapped around her upper arm close to her shoulder. His fingers dug into her under arm while the palm of his hand pressed tight against the skin of her lower shoulder. There was a sharp pain like a sting, his hand tightening as he wrenched her around, spinning her. Kathryn shrieked slightly as he put his other hand on her opposite shoulder, holding her in front of him.
"Where're you off to in such a hurry?" that grin was still plastered on his lips and it terrified her to feel how tightly he was holding onto her arms. Kathryn was standing face to face with him, but now other people were paying attention to the sudden movement. The clerk behind the counter was paying particular attention. He was the owner of the grocery store. "Can't I at least get your name? C'mon show me some friendly hospitality." Kathryn felt goose flesh roll up her arms and across her neck, wishing she'd worn a long sleeved shirt instead of her tank top. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as if they'd been touched with static electricity.
"Kathryn Laski," she said. Kathryn wrenched her arms, "now let go of me." More people were staring now, but it still took him a few moments before releasing her arms. The way he looked at her made Kathryn wonder if they had been alone would he have let go? John shrugged his shoulders and took a step back. The smug grin that spread across his features sent panicked chills down Kathryn's spine. Her stomach twisted itself into knots, she felt like she was going to be sick.
"Another time then," he said, before walking past her allowing his shoulder to brush hers a laugh following him while he walked out the door. Kathryn stood where she was, wrapping a hand around her right shoulder where she'd felt that sting. It was only a dull ache now. What could he have done to cause that?
"Miss," came an older voice from behind her. Kathryn whipped around to see the sixty-some year old store owner. He had a growing bald spot at the top of his head, his grey hair carefully combed over the offending skin. Deep set wrinkles around his eyes gave him the kind old man appearance while hazel eyes stared out from under bushy eyebrows. He had a hand resting on his pot belly, back bent slightly from a long day of work. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," Kathryn replied acting braver then she actually was. It was then that she saw something behind the counter she didn't expect. Settled on the back shelf where he kept his cigarettes was a .22 rifle. The old grocery store owner noticed where she was looking and his pale cheeks took on a faint rosy completion.
"I haven't felt the need to take that old thing out for a while," he admitted, "but when I saw that man grab you I just had this weird feeling he was up to no good," there was a shaky laugh that came out of his chest, slightly wheezy when he coughed. "I thought I was going to have myself another heart attack just holding that thing. I was awfully glad when he walked away and let you alone."
"So was I," she said. "Thank you for your concern, but I think I'm going to go back to my motel room."
"That's probably a good idea Miss. A man like that, he's a predator. You can see it in his eyes. We get them around here, now and again, but they don't stay long. They know that there are a few of us that would love dearly to put a bullet between their eyes and none of us would flinch away from it." Kathryn said good bye to the old man and exited the building, walking out to her motorcycle. She was thankful to find that Mr. John Wright had left and wasn't waiting for her outside. Kathryn slid her jean jacket on and settled her helmet onto her head, strapping it tight and flipping the kickstand up on her bike. The throttle roared slightly making her feel a little better. She needed to feel a little bit of control after what had happened.
Upon returning to her motel room she discovered that John Wright had been telling the truth. There was a notice on her door to meet up in the parking lot at six o'clock to take a bus to the facility which was evidently another hour and a half outside of town. Brigsby was the closest town to the facility evidently which is why they were requested to make reservations at the local motel. Seeing as it had barely hit four thirty Kathryn decided another shower was in order before she went out with the other students. She wanted to wash the guy off her skin. He hadn't even done anything to her and she felt molested. The very thought of his hands against her shoulders sent another wave of shivers through her system, her entire spine shaking at the thought.
Once finished with her shower, her hair towel dried and brushed back into another set of rubber bands Kathryn walked outside to join some of the other would-be college students to wait for the bus to show up. She was wearing a less tattered pair of blue jeans with a black belt and had traded the blue tank top for a darker blue t-shirt. Her jean jacket was settled over one arm. The newest addition to her ensemble was the single cell-phone like case that rested hooked on her belt. She'd thought her mother was crazy buying her the taser, but after what'd just happened she'd clipped it on her belt just in case rather then keep it inside of her backpack back in her room where it would be useless.
It wasn't long before one of those extra long super sized vans pulled up in the parking lot, Professor Ivan in the driver's seat of what looked like a recently purchased vehicle. It was dark blue and had a weird logo on the side like some kind of red face looking thing, the earth behind it, and some kind of strange pattern wrapping around them both. They almost looked like shooting stars surrounding the logo. Once he'd taken roll call and double checked to make certain everyone was there he gave the order to pile into the van. Kathryn was squashed up against the outside door of the van, sharing her seat with a pair of guys who looked more like the type to go after a football scholarship rather then go to a research facility. Unfortunately for her these were the two she was forced to sit next to for the entire hour and a half drive to the research facility, grateful when she managed to hop out of the van and stretch the kink out of her back looking forward to walking around rather then being crushed between two meat-headed lack-luster individuals and the door. Frankly she would have had an easier time having a conversation with the door, but at least they were here… even if 'here' wasn't very impressive.
The facility was a single story brick building that had no fences or guards around it. It was the kind of place you expected to blend into the background and to not be noticed. Maybe that was the point, though Kathryn had a sense that this place couldn't be that important or there would be guards all over the place.
"You know the rules," said the Professor. "Keep your hands to yourself and if you have to ask a question please be certain it is an intelligent one." Like the last time Kathryn had met Professor Ivan she was surprised at his lack of an accent. He looked to be in his thirties, youngish complexion, Caucasian skin, blue eyes, black hair and wearing a simple pair of kaki slacks, black dress shoes, and a silvery-grey polo. Together with the students he led them to the facility where they were asked to keep their hands to themselves again before they were allowed into the facility.
