Chapter 20

Sam crossed her arms and shook her head. "It's been months and nobody's come after him. I haven't even seen a single 'missing person' sign or gotten an Amber Alert."

"Sam…" the woman sighed, kneeling down and looking up with pleading eyes. "You have no idea how important this boy is. He's too valuable for these people to just let him go. They're very dangerous and they will do anything to get him back."

"You still didn't answer my question…" Tucker muttered. "How do you know about Project Level Up?"

The man pulled back his suit, like the woman had done, to reveal his face. His eyes were full of regret as he stared down at the floor, as if in shame.

"We used to work there, about twenty years ago…" the man said.

The expressions on Sam and Tucker suddenly went blank. Whatever had been said clearly did not settle well with them. It was at times like these that he wished more than ever he understood English—more than the tiniest scraps of what he did know.

He still didn't trust these English-speakers and although he couldn't determine what they were all talking about, he didn't trust their words either. Their role here was done. They would do well to leave now and forget all about him.

Suddenly another burst of arguing broke out between all four of them—Tucker, Sam, and the two other English-speakers. Unlike before, the words being fired back and forth served to stress both parties out rather than accomplish some agreement or victory, whichever Tucker and Sam were aiming for. The word "experimento" was used once by Tucker, most likely in reference to the mark on his back.

From what he could tell through everyone's tones, the other English-speakers were on the defensive. Everyone was getting frustrated with each other. He was pointed at several times, which probably meant they were discussing him and perhaps Projekto Nivelo Up. If they were discussing that, then these two strangers knew about him. They knew what had happened, they knew what he was, and worst of all they knew where he was. They could've been coming only to take him back with them. They would complete Projekto Nivelo Up. Maybe he wouldn't die this time, seeing as he was clearly more durable than ever before—he had been thrown into a table and broke it without so much as a bruise. In fact, the cut he received from the monster probably should've been much deeper.

He supposed Projekto Nivelo Up was no failure after all. Clearly it had some effect on him. His body was different now. It was healing at inhuman speeds. It was able to sustain more damage. He had questions about this, about why everything was happening so conveniently after the slime had soaked through his skin and wounds. He had never seen such a creature before and apparently Sam was unable to see it at all. These two could've released it to track him down—he certainly didn't put it past them.

After some time the fighting simmered down and all the English-speakers, Sam and Tucker included, came to a quiet standstill. All but the woman, who was looking straight at him, avoided eye contact with each other by looking at the floor. It was clear to him that nobody knew what to do or say anymore, and so the argument died with that. An agreement, however, did not seem to have been met. The atmosphere was still tense.

Why did the woman keep looking at him though? Was she trying to determine whether or not he was considered ruined? There was little doubt in his mind that he had been the closest anyone had ever come to success during Projekto Nivelo Up. Despite having only been halfway to the road of death, the fact remained that he survived. Did it matter how he survived to the English-speakers of the Outside? Was she wondering about that? Tucker and Sam had noticed strange things about him already, things he never knew about until Tucker began growing more and more curious. His eyes weren't supposed to change color, for instance, and Sam had just been unusually focused on his hair so maybe something was wrong with his hair, too. Were these unnatural traits so prominent in him that she had picked up on them? What colors were his eyes now? Had they changed yet? Did she see them change? Did she expect them to change?

And what of his hair? Did she notice anything strange about his hair? Self-consciousness came crashing down on him at that moment—he wasn't normal. Tucker and Sam had accepted this long ago but unless he could find a way to control these abnormalities, they were an identifier. He didn't even know when his eyes changed and only realized what the fuss was about when he happened to see them flash green in Sam's mirror. The blue gas that escaped his lips prior to the creature's appearance wasn't normal either.

"Why should we trust your stories?" Sam asked. "You helped them. You've ruined lives like Daniel's. How am I supposed to believe you 'didn't mean to'? He can't even hold a spoon!"

"We have no excuses for what we did and it's not something we're proud of," the woman said. "I understand how you feel about this but I beg you to use your better judgment. His life is in your hands."

"Don't listen to her, Sam!" Tucker spat. "Daniel trusts us, we can't hand him over to monsters."

The man cleared his throat. "Nobody here has to trust us. I never expected you to. Just, please, we can help him. We want to help him. We have the means to do it, too."

"Sam, Tucker…people have died in this program. People have died from this program. Daniel is not the first person to escape. There were many before him who tried and while most failed, those few who did manage to get free were either captured and killed or subsequently taken in by kindhearted individuals like you two. But like I said earlier, those like Daniel are too valuable to let go of so easily. The people who took them in were killed. I don't know what happened to the subjects but I can assure you it wasn't good. Don't put him through that. Don't put yourselves through that."

"Unlike you guys, we actually care about him," Tucker said.

The woman took a deep, frustrated breath and finally stood back up. "If we didn't care about him why would we offer to help him?"

"How do we know you aren't going to take him back?"

Sam's expression seemed to show agreement with Tucker's question.

The woman briefly looked at the rings in his hands and then back to Sam and Tucker. She gave a quick nod in his direction.

"Do you think he likes having metal going straight through his hands and feet? Straight through his skin, muscles, and possibly bones? Do you think that doesn't hurt every day? Do you think he doesn't care if he can't perform basic actions, such as holding the spoon Sam mentioned earlier? Do you think he doesn't mind being unable to speak? Do you think he never wanted to communicate with you in English? Do you think he doesn't wish he could be like you?"

"He has an opportunity to improve his quality of life," the man said. "You can come visit us any time you want, we'll even give you a key to the house so you can visit when we're not home. You can spend the night at our place if you want. If you ever have to go somewhere we'll keep you both updated. Just let us help him."

Sam must've given Tucker some unspoken command because Tucker quickly nodded his head when she glanced at him.

Before another word could be said, Tucker grabbed his arm and led him back up to Sam's room. He didn't know what else was going on but the last thing he heard before the door shut was, "Tucker and I need to talk about this first." After that he was left alone in a room with a fuming Tucker, aching hands and feet, and a cut that had already begun to scab over.

"Let's get a bath," Tucker said to him. "You're getting a little sweaty."

He knew the word "bath" and associated it with the spraying water from the "shower head". He was actually rather proud of himself for learning a big word like that. Unfortunately that lovely big word also accompanied "soap" and "shampoo". They burned his eyes so horribly that he welcomed the water to hose them down.

He had come to enjoy baths even with the soap and shampoo, which were only tolerable because the tiny bubbles were still so fascinating. He was sure it had become easier on Tucker now that he had no problem staying still.

Before he followed Tucker into the bathroom he used one wrist to point at the door, behind which Sam had been left alone with the other two English-speakers. He had always assumed that English-speakers of the Outside were connected to each other—it was hardly a possibility that they would hurt another English-speaker. Even though he thought that way about English-speakers of the Outside, he could be wrong about the two English-speakers down there with her. They were upset. Sam was upset. Tucker was upset. He never wanted to cause this kind of situation for Sam and Tucker but somehow he just knew that he was the reason they were all fighting each other.

"No," Tucker firmly said in response to his pointing toward the door. "Come here, Daniel."

He honestly didn't want to move from his spot. Everything was too awkward right now. Everyone was so upset about something he couldn't understand. But it probably wasn't a great idea to disobey orders, even if they were from Tucker, who would never do him any harm for disobedience.

He followed Tucker into the bathroom and tried not to worry about Sam, all alone with some strange man and woman who had no further business being in this house. He had to trust that one English-speaker could handle another. He may have spent plenty of time away from his original home, but he was nowhere close to their level of conquering the Outside. Besides, this was Sam here, she went to the School Building every day and suffered through each time. She always came out just fine. He doubted those other two English-speakers could ever do that.

Tucker turned on the shower head and helped him undress while the water heated up.

"You know we won't ever let you go back," Tucker said. "Not if they're going to kill you."

He stepped into water spray and felt the warm water drench him. It was soothing in a way but at the same time he still felt tense from the English-speakers' fight.

"Was that why you were all burned when we found you?" Tucker asked, this time much more softly than before. "Did the flaky stuff have anything to do with it?"

He had grown quite accustomed to being spoken to in English, despite barely understanding a thing. Sam and Tucker never meant to confuse him. In fact, sometimes it seemed more like they were talking to themselves. The fact that they were trying to communicate with him like they would any other English-speaker was a comfort in and of itself.

"How did you escape?" Tucker continued.

It didn't sound like Tucker was expecting any kind of response from him.

The familiar squirting of the shampoo preceded a rough massage. He was sure Tucker didn't notice but it was far from comfortable. Of all the baths Tucker had given him this one had to be the worst. It was all he could do to hope everything would go back to normal soon.

A/N

Sorry I'm a little late on the update. There were some problems with the financial aid department in my college (which in turn created a problem with the registrations department [which then created problems in the disabilities department] {which you may know about already from a previous chapter}]) and since there's just one week until classes begin and registration ends, everyone was busy and it was almost impossible to get a hold of anybody.

Anyway, things SHOULD be sorted out now. The chapter is a little shorter than most of my other ones but not too much. I was going to add another portion but I feel it's better put into the next chapter, which should come within the next two weeks or possibly three depending on if the crap with college really is straightened out.