~EstE: Out of Hand~
****present****
They hadn't meant for things to get so out of hand, Rebecca mused, tucking her coat around the snoring form of her son. She and James hadn't realized...that they would never be allowed true freedom. That they would never have a normal life.
Her gloved hands went to the ignition, turning on the vehicle and trying to think of a plan. None came to mind. She had to look on the bright side-- but there wasn't a bright side. Here she was, sneaking around outside a Rest Area. And she hadn't even been able to relieve herself. Well, life was tough.
No plan.
Except...
They could simply hide for a while. And when she scrounged up enough money...Austria. EstE. And no more gray suited men.
****eight years before****
James awoke next with a blinding headache and a very scrambled brain. He was in the Lab. And there was Rebecca to his right. He remembered someone crying. There were only three other students asleep in the room.
James grabbed the sleeve of a passing GA.
"Hey, where is everybody?"
"A few volunteers suffered from very minor stomach aches. They are being taken care of."
'Stomach aches?'
"I lit a match," James blurted out. "With my mind."
"A hallucination," the man said before he wandered away. He came back moments later with an Aspirin and a glass of water. James was released that day.
A week after, when James was nearly convinced he'd imagined the match and the voices in his head, he encountered Rebecca Hamand. (He would think back, years later, on that moment in time, and wonder if it had been fortunate or unfortunate. After all, he might have forgotten the experiment all together had she not appeared then.) They spoke of normal things at first, weather, grades, and finally the topic shifted to the Lab. Both had received their three hundred dollar checks.
"But...something's been up with me ever since," Rebecca said. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and her face was contorted into a frown. "You may think I'm nuts for saying this. I...I have no one else who might even vaguely understand. Sometimes...I hear voices. Other people's voices. In my head. Very, very quiet voices, but they're there, and I wonder if I'm...losing my mind. The biggest thing is my hands, when I touch objects, especially old objects, I see things. Little boxes of knowledge in my brain. I learn about the pasts of things just by touching them." She shrugged and laughed uneasily, showing James her gloved hands.
"I have to wear these, else it becomes too much."
He told her about the match in the Lab and the amazing heat.
"I think..." She paused thoughtfully. "I think there was more to the SIA-- the stuff they put in us--than what they let on."
It took weeks of research and their own personal testing to discover exactly what had been done to them. Rebecca was quite computer literate, and she hacked into personal files and still more files to get the whole story.
What they discovered changed their lives forever.
****present****
Rebecca Crawford drove all night and well into the next morning. By then Bradley had awoken and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
"Mommy, I'm hungry."
She opened the bag of chips awkwardly and handed it to him. Not the most nutritional breakfast, she knew, but she didn't have much money left. And money made the world go round. He wrinkled his nose, and she caught the faint mutterings of his young mind, half-formed images of pancakes and bacon.
"Sorry, sweetie," she said, feeling a pang of remorse. "I'm sure we'll find something better come lunchtime, huh?"
"Where're we going, Mommy?" he asked, wiping greasy crumbs from his mouth minutes later.
"Far, far away. To..." She looked at the signs around them. "To Florida." They were in the Southern United States, anyway, and there were so many people in Florida, surely the Lab would have trouble locating them.
"When will we go home?"
Large brown eyes blinked innocently up at her. Her heart broke in a million pieces right then and there. His eyes were so like James'...
"You know the answer, Braddy. Never."
****eight years before****
Every test subject in the Lab who had been injected with SIA were low-grade telepaths. It explained how Rebecca had communicated with James when they'd been high on the drug.
"But each person has...a more dominant power. The files on us are rather disturbing." Rebecca clicked open another computer window. "James Everette Crawford. Your middle name is Everette? Pyrokinetic. It has EVERYTHING about you."
"Pyrokinetic?" He gave her a puzzled look.
"You can light fires."
"And you are...?"
"Clairvoyant."
"Meaning?"
"You really don't know much about psi, do you? In my case, when I touch things," she waved her gloved fingers, "I get weird vibes, I...know things."
"Ah."
"But get this: half the test subjects died, and two are in a coma as we speak."
"How many came through as we did."
"Six, including ourselves, are walking around in relative freedom. But the Lab people are obviously going to pull one of our number in. Andrew Cardigan...he's a bit insane, and they're just now noticing."
"That sucks." James clutched the armrests of the chair he was seated in. He wondered if he could light the candle sitting on the table there if he tried hard enough. Pyrokinesis. "So they won't bother us? We're just allowed to go on with our daily lives? Isn't what they're doing illegal? I could've sworn America was a democracy just a few weeks ago--choices, and all that jazz."
"I don't know what the government has to do with this, but yeah, it does seem to go againt the basic principles of the Constitution. Their control runs deep. And what can we do, when we don't even know what they're planning?" She buried her face in her arms.
A week passed. James Crawford was more stressed than he'd ever been in his life. He had nightmares. White room, needle, match, and a strange crying in the background.
He and Rebecca road to the coastline in silence. James' Buick parked in the sand (though he had no idea how he would get it out again) and they walked the rest of the way to the very shore. He chased her into the salty water, kissed her twice, and accidentally caused his own swim trunks to catch on fire when she said she thought she loved him.
After he frantically put out the fire by dunking beneath the surface, they sat on beach towels and talked.
"We have to learn to control our...powers. I mean, I'm stuck with wearing gloves, I want to have something to show for it. And you. I think your trunks are proof enough," Rebecca said.
"We only know the littlest bit about psi," James pointed out.
"We'll learn," she said stubbornly.
****present****
They hadn't meant for things to get so out of hand, Rebecca mused, tucking her coat around the snoring form of her son. She and James hadn't realized...that they would never be allowed true freedom. That they would never have a normal life.
Her gloved hands went to the ignition, turning on the vehicle and trying to think of a plan. None came to mind. She had to look on the bright side-- but there wasn't a bright side. Here she was, sneaking around outside a Rest Area. And she hadn't even been able to relieve herself. Well, life was tough.
No plan.
Except...
They could simply hide for a while. And when she scrounged up enough money...Austria. EstE. And no more gray suited men.
****eight years before****
James awoke next with a blinding headache and a very scrambled brain. He was in the Lab. And there was Rebecca to his right. He remembered someone crying. There were only three other students asleep in the room.
James grabbed the sleeve of a passing GA.
"Hey, where is everybody?"
"A few volunteers suffered from very minor stomach aches. They are being taken care of."
'Stomach aches?'
"I lit a match," James blurted out. "With my mind."
"A hallucination," the man said before he wandered away. He came back moments later with an Aspirin and a glass of water. James was released that day.
A week after, when James was nearly convinced he'd imagined the match and the voices in his head, he encountered Rebecca Hamand. (He would think back, years later, on that moment in time, and wonder if it had been fortunate or unfortunate. After all, he might have forgotten the experiment all together had she not appeared then.) They spoke of normal things at first, weather, grades, and finally the topic shifted to the Lab. Both had received their three hundred dollar checks.
"But...something's been up with me ever since," Rebecca said. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and her face was contorted into a frown. "You may think I'm nuts for saying this. I...I have no one else who might even vaguely understand. Sometimes...I hear voices. Other people's voices. In my head. Very, very quiet voices, but they're there, and I wonder if I'm...losing my mind. The biggest thing is my hands, when I touch objects, especially old objects, I see things. Little boxes of knowledge in my brain. I learn about the pasts of things just by touching them." She shrugged and laughed uneasily, showing James her gloved hands.
"I have to wear these, else it becomes too much."
He told her about the match in the Lab and the amazing heat.
"I think..." She paused thoughtfully. "I think there was more to the SIA-- the stuff they put in us--than what they let on."
It took weeks of research and their own personal testing to discover exactly what had been done to them. Rebecca was quite computer literate, and she hacked into personal files and still more files to get the whole story.
What they discovered changed their lives forever.
****present****
Rebecca Crawford drove all night and well into the next morning. By then Bradley had awoken and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
"Mommy, I'm hungry."
She opened the bag of chips awkwardly and handed it to him. Not the most nutritional breakfast, she knew, but she didn't have much money left. And money made the world go round. He wrinkled his nose, and she caught the faint mutterings of his young mind, half-formed images of pancakes and bacon.
"Sorry, sweetie," she said, feeling a pang of remorse. "I'm sure we'll find something better come lunchtime, huh?"
"Where're we going, Mommy?" he asked, wiping greasy crumbs from his mouth minutes later.
"Far, far away. To..." She looked at the signs around them. "To Florida." They were in the Southern United States, anyway, and there were so many people in Florida, surely the Lab would have trouble locating them.
"When will we go home?"
Large brown eyes blinked innocently up at her. Her heart broke in a million pieces right then and there. His eyes were so like James'...
"You know the answer, Braddy. Never."
****eight years before****
Every test subject in the Lab who had been injected with SIA were low-grade telepaths. It explained how Rebecca had communicated with James when they'd been high on the drug.
"But each person has...a more dominant power. The files on us are rather disturbing." Rebecca clicked open another computer window. "James Everette Crawford. Your middle name is Everette? Pyrokinetic. It has EVERYTHING about you."
"Pyrokinetic?" He gave her a puzzled look.
"You can light fires."
"And you are...?"
"Clairvoyant."
"Meaning?"
"You really don't know much about psi, do you? In my case, when I touch things," she waved her gloved fingers, "I get weird vibes, I...know things."
"Ah."
"But get this: half the test subjects died, and two are in a coma as we speak."
"How many came through as we did."
"Six, including ourselves, are walking around in relative freedom. But the Lab people are obviously going to pull one of our number in. Andrew Cardigan...he's a bit insane, and they're just now noticing."
"That sucks." James clutched the armrests of the chair he was seated in. He wondered if he could light the candle sitting on the table there if he tried hard enough. Pyrokinesis. "So they won't bother us? We're just allowed to go on with our daily lives? Isn't what they're doing illegal? I could've sworn America was a democracy just a few weeks ago--choices, and all that jazz."
"I don't know what the government has to do with this, but yeah, it does seem to go againt the basic principles of the Constitution. Their control runs deep. And what can we do, when we don't even know what they're planning?" She buried her face in her arms.
A week passed. James Crawford was more stressed than he'd ever been in his life. He had nightmares. White room, needle, match, and a strange crying in the background.
He and Rebecca road to the coastline in silence. James' Buick parked in the sand (though he had no idea how he would get it out again) and they walked the rest of the way to the very shore. He chased her into the salty water, kissed her twice, and accidentally caused his own swim trunks to catch on fire when she said she thought she loved him.
After he frantically put out the fire by dunking beneath the surface, they sat on beach towels and talked.
"We have to learn to control our...powers. I mean, I'm stuck with wearing gloves, I want to have something to show for it. And you. I think your trunks are proof enough," Rebecca said.
"We only know the littlest bit about psi," James pointed out.
"We'll learn," she said stubbornly.