*Author's note: This
IS scifi. If you don't get a part, email me, I'll try to explain.
This
part is not the final version of it. I can't find that file at this present
time. No major changes will occur, though. I will continually edit these and all
stories I write; I'm compulsive that way. :) Sorry FOX and TnT...
Chapter 7 Freedom
"She is waking up."
Leigh moaned. She tried to open her eyes, but there was a blinding
light… Turn it off, she thought. As her vision cleared, the light dimmed into
reality.
"No," she cried, flailing about, "I won't let you hurt Jarod!"
Several people moved over to her bed and held her down. A man of at
least 60, who was standing next to her bed, backed off a little and said, "So
that's what your friend's name is." She stopped struggling against doctors and
nurses. It had been a dream, they had really escaped; she realized and asked,
"Where am I?"
The man responded, "You are at St. Mary's hospital."
"Who are you?"
"My name is James Derbery, I found both of you
out by the side of the road. Your friend looked pretty bad."
"Is he
okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," he paused, "He's gonna be just fine. Why were
you two out there in the middle of nowhere?"
"We had escaped from the
Centre."
"You mean that big cooperation just out of Blue Cove?"
"Yeah."
"I've heard about the place. Don't they do experiments
and stuff?"
"Stuff alright. Why am I in the hospital?"
A doctor
interrupted James. "Are you taking any medication or drugs of any kind?"
"Not voluntarily."
"What have you been given?"
"Monohetris."
"Monohetris? That's a new one. Do you know what it
is?"
"It's some kind of drug. I don't know, they were giving it to me."
"Do you know how much?"
"At least 10 cc's a day. Why am I here?"
she persisted.
"It's nothing major, while you were unconscious, you
reacted violently to several supplements. You should be fine now," he assured
her.
"Oh," she said, "Is Jarod gonna be okay?"
James continued
for the doctor, "Your friend took quite a beating out there. He looked like he
was shot in the side at pretty close range. He did not look too good when I
found you two."
The doctor said, "He was barely stable…"
"Well,
is he going to be alright or not?"
"He probably won't awaken for several
days. Between his injury and the loss of blood, he may not wake up at all."
Leigh felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her. To escape to
freedom seemed empty without Jarod. "No," she yelled in frustration, "That's not
fair!"
"I'm sorry, we have done all we…"
"No!" she screamed.
She jumped off the bed. James grabbed her and turned her to him.
"Miss," he said, "There is nothing you can do."
"Jarod," she
cried, tears streamed down her face.
"It's okay, shh, it's okay. What's
your name?"
"Leigh, Leigh Sanchez," she gasped out.
"Leigh, the
doctors have done everything they can, for now you have to trust them."
He wiped the tears from her face, "It's okay," he whispered.
The next day, the doctor came into her room.
"Leigh," he
said, "You can leave now."
"To where?" she asked dolefully.
"We
can contact your parents.
"My parents are dead," she thought of Ms.
Jameson, but she knew that she wanted to help Jarod. "Jarod's my guardian."
"You can stay here, then, or Mr. Derbery has offered to take you home
with him. He says he will take care of both you and Jarod, if he gets better."
"Alright."
* * *
"You can stay in this room."
Leigh stared into a bright, cheery bedroom. It matched the rest of the
farmhouse with walls of polished wood. The bed looked cozy with a handmade quilt
draped across it. There was an old dresser by the bed with a yellow-shaded lamp
on it. A bookcase with antique books packed into it sat across from the bed.
"Thank you," she said kindly.
"Well, I'll leave you to get
settled."
Leigh walked around the room. It had a lovely warm feeling,
like a true home. She glanced at the book titles, and brushed her hand across
the quilt.
"We can go shopping for clothes tomorrow."
"Okay,"
she started to cry again.
He moved over to her, pulling her to the bed
so she sat next to him. "It's okay," he said, "Jarod will be okay."
The next day they returned to the hospital. The nurses directed
them to Jarod's room. He looked so pitiful and helpless lying on the dreary bed.
Leigh pulled up a chair and sat next to him. She gazed into his face covered in
tube. She held his warm hand. He looked so pale next to the stark machinery
keeping him alive.
"Jarod, please wake up," she whispered.
The
steady beep of the monitors echoed in the dull room.
They went
to the hospital every day. Every day Leigh sat by his bedside. Though he showed
no obvious signs, the nurses said that his condition he was improving. One day
when they came in, the nurses looked unusually bright.
"He is awake!"
one said to her.
Leigh raced to his room. He was lying down on the bed.
When he heard her rush in he propped himself up with his elbow.
"Leigh!"
he said happily.
"Jarod!"
"Alive and ready for action! Have you
been staying here, too?" he asked.
"Ahh, no, the man who found us
offered to take care of us."
"How long has it been?"
"Almost two
weeks."
He sat up in surprise and fear. "We have to leave here now. The
Centre may have found where we are."
"But you aren't well enough…"
"I'll be fine. We got to get away from here. I could take you back to
your home in Montana."
"I'd rather be with you, Jarod."
* * *
"So where we goin'?" Leigh asked as the small rental car sped up.
"How about we just drive."
They did so for days. Racing across
the countryside going nowhere, anywhere. To Leigh, it almost seemed like he had
a direction, but none that she could see. They stopped often at hotels or small
towns. Jarod seemed interested in helping others whenever possible. Sometimes,
his help became very complicated. She soon realized why the Centre valued him so
much. He could become anyone.
He had helped many people in his quest. He
showed her several badges and nametags from government offices, hospitals, and
other agencies after they had boldly retrieved them from where he was captured.
He also took a laptop and several cases of disks, DSAs. He did not show them to
her when she had asked.
He did show her a notebook he had. It was full
of news stories and clipping. He told her that these were some of people he had
helped.
"How do you do it?" she asked him one day.
"What?" he
asked her.
"Everything! You have done so much for so many people, but
how are you so good at it?"
He stared hard to the road that stretched
endlessly before them. "It's a long story." He glanced at his watch, "How about
we stop for dinner, it is getting late." Without waiting for her response, he
flicked the blinkers on and turned off of the highway. They pulled into a
deserted little Chinese place. Green plastic décor pronounced the cheesy look.
They took a seat at a booth as a young waitress filled their water glasses and
took their order.
Leigh hesitated before bringing up the subject again,
knowing how hard it was for Jarod to talk about his past. He sighed and closed
his eyes. "I was trained for 30 years at the Centre. Every day, of every year
Sydney presented scenarios for me to complete. They had me 'pretend' I was
there, at where ever they wanted me to be. I would solve whatever needed
solving; build whatever needed building; plan whatever they needed planned.
Kidnappings, terrorist attacks, murders, cover-ups, bombings…" his voice trailed
off to a solemn whisper, "Whatever they needed. I guess it just comes as a
second nature now."
He glanced at her and continued, "It's alright now.
That is why I escaped, to right the wrongs they forced on me. The day that we
escaped, Lyle had reminded me…"
"You had found me."
He sighed,
"Yes. I had. They had told me one day that they were trying to find someone like
me. I was almost 21. You would have been about five. They started to train me on
how to Read people. It was probably the first thing I wasn't very good at," he
laughed slightly, but his expression quickly became grim again, "I became very
frustrated with it. Syd and others tried hard to teach me it completely, but I
could only get a sense of the person. I had to know how to Read completely or I
could not find another pretender. So the Centre had me create a program of drugs
to help. It combines different drugs that force one's mind to Read."
"Mr. Lyle had said you created it and that it could injure the person
subject to it."
Jarod nodded, playing with his food. "It can, but only
if something happens that causes the subject to go into shock, like something
they see or hear. Even still, that is very rare. Several of the first tests were
very excruciating and dangerous to the subjects. They were scared and had no
idea what was happening. I volunteered to do it because I was used to Reading,
but Sydney tried to stop me. The Centre disregarded his warnings and had Mr.
Raines assist me. The experiment was successful. I found you, but I did not know
what the Centre planned to do with you. I do know that they played a part in the
death of your parents, though."
Leigh gasped. Her mouth went dry, "Why
would they want to do that?"
"The Centre wanted no ties when they were
to retrieve you. They found my parents to be difficult to deal with when I was
kidnapped."
"Did they…?"
"Kill them, no. They are still alive. I
have spent my time out of the Centre trying to find them. My family is trying to
outrun the Centre, though, so I cannot find them."
Jarod stopped
abruptly when the waitress returned, asking if everything was fine. When she
left, Leigh looked ruefully down at her plate. "They, they killed… My parents,
they killed, oh God. And I helped them?"
Jarod reached out across the
table, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You did what you could. I
don't want you to feel that this was your fault. Lyle would have found a way."
They finished their meal in silence.
Leigh picked up her fortune
cookie, breaking in half.
The small piece of paper inside curled
slightly when she took it out. "Your lucky numbers," it said, "13 22 9 17
**Freedom does not set all free **."
She stared at the odd phrase
for a moment, folded the paper, and shoved it in her pocket. She glanced at
Jarod, who was still puzzling over his own. "A little piece of paper in a
cookie, huh."
"Americanism, that custom isn't even Chinese."
Jarod paid the bill, tipping the waitress generously, and started the
car.
"Could I try?" Leigh asked suddenly, "I could Read where your
parents are like I did when I found you."
"Please."
"Tell me
what you remember about them."
He turned the car onto a side road. "I
could tell you about them on the way to a place I know."
* * *
They turned onto an old dirt road. It wound around a small pond. Jarod
stopped in front of a rickety, old summer cottage. It was an earthy brown with
white faded sidings. He stepped out of the car. Leigh followed him into an old
kitchen with a patterned linoleum floor that was no longer as flat as it used to
be.
"One of my friends I met when I had escaped invited me to come here
as I pleased." He asked her earnestly, "Do you think that you could find them?"
"I'll try."
She walked into another room that had an olive green
couch. When she sat down, she could smell the years of dust and mothballs that
had attached its odor to the couch. She closed her eyes. She couldn't focus on
anyone.
"Jarod," she said, "I can't find them. I don't think I know
enough about them. Most of what you told me was just facts. Do you know any
personal details?"
"I… I can't really say. I don't know anything else
about them. It was so long ago."
She closed her eyes again. This time
she focused more on Jarod.
"It's hard to describe…" he continued.
She tried to understand what he wanted her to know. She searched through
his memories of them, trying to find something she could go on. The memories
were so few…
"Leigh?" he walked unsteadily into the room, "What's
happening?" An image flashed before his eyes, of a thick hood. He leaned over
her and studied her face. "Leigh, what are you doing?" He saw the hood again.
Its netted cotton felt gruff on his skin. He put up his arms to shield his face,
but the visions continued; he could barely breathe.
Jarod blinked
dizzied, and stumbled backwards. He crouched defensively, cradling his head in
his hands. "No, stop, please Leigh, stop." He tried to block out the image. It
was so real. He clawed maniacally at the air, trying to erase the image, the
feel and the smell of the hood smothering his every cry, his every thought. He
felt a jolt of electricity travel down his spine and he froze, his whole body
paralyzed.
"Stop!" he yelled at her. His voice seemed muffled and
hoarse. Something was wrong. He felt cold metal surrounding his body. Cold,
unyielding chains that rattled at every move of his aching body. He surged
backwards against the back wall. A photograph that clung to the wall fell,
crashing to the floor. Glass sprayed across his body. Another vision, clouded,
confusing. A syringe was held to his face, he heard his name spoken. A fist
slammed against his stomach.
"Leigh, stop, something's wrong! Please,
Leigh, listen!" The pressure, the vision, it was wrong. He pleaded with her, but
she couldn't hear him. Pain wracked his body. He shook his head as if to send
her out physically. The rest of his body shook violently. He writhed on the
floor, screaming, "No! Let me go!" He threw back his head and screamed.
Leigh opened her eyes. She stared in horror at Jarod.
TO BE CONTINUED