Chapter Nine
For X5-878, the next several days passed by in a blur. The main reason for that being Sakir kept him drugged the majority of the time but, even for the brief instances when Cole's mind cleared enough to produce any rational thought, he simply reflected upon other things and endeavored to completely forget his current surroundings.
So far, at least as Cole could tell, nothing had been done to except blood work and other internal research that required no actual cooperation from him. He knew however, the way Sakir had spoken, that there was much more to come. And Cole, amidst his drug induced trance, also knew that it would not be pleasant.
As he lay there, silently wondering what his captor had in store for him, his thoughts unintentionally traveled back to Jondy.
Even if she didn't know exactly who he was, Cole had made it obvious to her that they knew each other in their pasts and that he was, once upon a time, her "brother".
How she must hate him now, Cole thought bitterly.
She probably hated him as much as he hated himself. For not being strong enough.
For not fighting back against their most hated enemies.
Instead, he became one of them.
'Traitor. Rat. Turncoat. Defector. Rogue. Parasite.'
These words flashed suddenly across Cole's memory. For months after the escape he and the other X5s had undergone intensive brainwashing to make certain that each one of them were not to do the same thing.
One X5 had convinced himself otherwise though. And he still remembered those words every single time he complied with Manticore's orders.
'Traitor... Traitor... Traitor...'
Molly sat next to the window, her knees pulled to her chest in an attempt to stay warm. It would seem that they'd managed to arrive during the continent's several month long rainy season and this motel had no heat at all.
For the last six days she and Jondy had been moving around every twelve hours or so, going from place to place and barely getting settled into one motel room before moving on to a new one.
Jondy had explained to her that it was called the evasion method and the only sure way to avoid detection by the authorities that were surely looking for them by now.
As of yet, Jondy had achieved no success whatsoever in uncovering the location of the mysterious X5. As much as Molly hated to admit it, she believed that there was no way they were going to find him if the police didn't want him found. Of course, she would never mention this to her friend who seemed extremely adamant in her search, but she thought it futile nevertheless.
Just then the door opened and Jondy came walking through briskly, her hair darkened a shade from the rain that had sufficiently soaked it through.
Molly had noticed an obvious change in Jondy during the last week. She never before had been so serious and resolute about anything and, emotionally, she seemed to have aged at least thirty years. Whereas before she had acted like any other twenty year-old, now she seemed like a seasoned war veteran that had been hardened by many years of combat.
And in a sense she was just that.
"What's up?" Molly asked.
"I may have a lead on something," Jondy replied distractedly, not looking up as she dug around in the backpack she'd been carrying.
"And?"
Jondy pulled a packet out and tossed it to Molly.
Molly quickly opened it up and her heart sank when she realized what it was.
"There's only one ticket in here."
"That's because I'm not going back. Not yet at least," Jondy replied; now watching Molly with full attention.
"I thought you said it was too dangerous to risk using the airports right now," Molly argued although she knew it was a waste of breath.
"You're not going on the main airlines. I found an old friend that helped me a long time ago. He said he could fly you out on his private plane."
"But you can't land a private plane in the U.S. anymore," Molly really was confused now. Jondy looked at the floor and then it started to dawn on her.
"I'm not going back to the U.S. am I?" she asked.
"Molly," Jondy attempted to explain, "I can't send you back. I know Manticore better than anyone. They'll never stop looking for you. They'll find you and they'll kill you," her voice quieted, "Going back would be a death sentence and I can't be responsible for any more blood on my hands."
"What do you mean?"
Jondy sighed.
"You know how I said you were the first person I ever told about me?" Molly nodded silently.
Jondy continued, "Well, that's not entirely true. When I first got out a man and his son took me in, thinking I was just a runaway or an orphan. Eventually I told them the truth. Then one day the son, Steph, and I came home and found the house burning. The newspapers called it a freak accident, that Steph's dad had fallen asleep while the stove was on or something. But I know that wasn't what happened. So I took Steph to Canada and found him a family to adopt him. When I was sure he'd be okay, I left and didn't look back. I hadn't told anybody else since then. I wouldn't have ever told you either."
Molly looked at the floor; ashamed she'd brought out more painful secrets that Jondy obviously did not care to talk of.
"I understand," she relented, "but I'm still worried about you," Molly paused for a second, undecided as to whether she should say what she really thought or not.
"I can take care of myself, Molly. I've been doing it for eleven years."
"I know...that's not exactly what I'm worried about."
"Well, then what?" Jondy queried.
"It's the government here. Being a cop I'm pretty familiar with the system in this country as well and, I'm telling you, we seem like angels compared to the Africans."
Jondy sighed, "I've heard the rumors. And, yes, they probably are all mostly true. It still doesn't change anything."
Molly defiantly continued, "Joa-...Jondy... in all probability he's already dead. I've never once heard of anyone lasting through more than a couple days of their methods over here. And as soon as he broke they would have no reason to keep him alive."
Jondy shook her head slowly, absently wiping a strand of wet hair from her face and brushing it behind her ear.
"He won't break. He can't. None of us can."
Molly didn't say anything but her questioning gaze was enough for Jondy to continue on.
"We were taught techniques to withstand torture, no matter what the kind. And believe me, the African's methods are nothing like what Manticore taught us about. Here it's completely physically based. They have nothing at all that relies on the psychological means of it. If, and may I emphasize the 'if', he breaks it won't be for months and maybe even years. That gives me plenty of time to find him still. And I intent to take full advantage of that."
"I'm starting to get this weird vibe that arguing with you doesn't do much good, does it?" Molly said dryly, crossing her arms in mock annoyance. Jondy smiled slightly.
"Nope. No good at all."
The following morning Cole knew something was different. As a habit he never opened his eyes immediately after awakening; he first always took several minutes to listen and observe with all his other senses until he had at least a vague idea of where he was. When you were constantly on the brink of getting killed by an enemy it was a good practice to follow. Just in case.
For the last few times he'd woken up he'd heard the familiar hum of machines and quiet footsteps against the tiled hallway outside his room. He'd been able to only barely move his fingers and slide them over the smooth metal surface of the surgical table he was secured to tightly by thick bonds, having a texture that had surely come straight out of the Middle Ages, Cole thought. It felt more like a rolled up burlap sack was holding his limbs in position than any type of rope he had ever felt. Unfortunately it was a very thick and inflexible burlap sack.
But today everything he'd grown accustomed to waking up with had changed. He was in utter silence. Nothing more than his shallow breathing and pulsing blood could be heard by even Cole's sensitive ears. No machinery, no footsteps, no voices...
Cole tested his hand ever so slightly and was shocked to find his hands were no longer tied down. He dragged his finger along the surface of the table to discover it was no longer the table at all. No, in fact it was dirt.
Unable to resist any longer, he opened his eyes and found himself staring dumbfounded into the shining night sky.
What was going on?
Cole gingerly moved his head, relieved to find the usual headache resulting from the massive amounts of drugs they'd been pumping into his body for the last week was no longer there.
He then started to realize something really was wrong.
Not only was his injured leg no longer radiating even the smallest amount of discomfort but also he seemed to have no feeling at all. Not in the sense that he couldn't feel stuff, actually his already enhanced senses seemed to be in heavy overload if nothing else. But when Cole sat up and accidentally placed his hand on a sharp thorn that punctured his palm he didn't feel it. Not until he looked at it and saw the thorn sticking from his skin and the blood trickling down his palm did he even notice it had happened at all.
Frowning Cole tried something else. He slowly got to his feet, prepared for a fresh burst of pain from his leg, but received nothing at all. He took a step and rested on that leg. For a moment he felt the oddest sensation in the back of his neck, like a tingling, but it disappeared as soon as it had come. Cole's frown deepened.
Looking around he could see nothing but the sparse vegetation of the African grasslands, no sign of the facility he'd been in existed.
Still weary of his leg, Cole took another few steps forward. Nothing. It felt as good as new. Maybe even better. That it itself was wrong. He hadn't been here that long, had he? Even an X5 couldn't recover from a broken bone it that short of time. Not so they felt no sign of it at all.
Once convinced that the bone was not going to give out on him, Cole took off at a loping jog in the northern direction. He was bound to run into something sooner or later.
But what the hell was going on??
For X5-878, the next several days passed by in a blur. The main reason for that being Sakir kept him drugged the majority of the time but, even for the brief instances when Cole's mind cleared enough to produce any rational thought, he simply reflected upon other things and endeavored to completely forget his current surroundings.
So far, at least as Cole could tell, nothing had been done to except blood work and other internal research that required no actual cooperation from him. He knew however, the way Sakir had spoken, that there was much more to come. And Cole, amidst his drug induced trance, also knew that it would not be pleasant.
As he lay there, silently wondering what his captor had in store for him, his thoughts unintentionally traveled back to Jondy.
Even if she didn't know exactly who he was, Cole had made it obvious to her that they knew each other in their pasts and that he was, once upon a time, her "brother".
How she must hate him now, Cole thought bitterly.
She probably hated him as much as he hated himself. For not being strong enough.
For not fighting back against their most hated enemies.
Instead, he became one of them.
'Traitor. Rat. Turncoat. Defector. Rogue. Parasite.'
These words flashed suddenly across Cole's memory. For months after the escape he and the other X5s had undergone intensive brainwashing to make certain that each one of them were not to do the same thing.
One X5 had convinced himself otherwise though. And he still remembered those words every single time he complied with Manticore's orders.
'Traitor... Traitor... Traitor...'
Molly sat next to the window, her knees pulled to her chest in an attempt to stay warm. It would seem that they'd managed to arrive during the continent's several month long rainy season and this motel had no heat at all.
For the last six days she and Jondy had been moving around every twelve hours or so, going from place to place and barely getting settled into one motel room before moving on to a new one.
Jondy had explained to her that it was called the evasion method and the only sure way to avoid detection by the authorities that were surely looking for them by now.
As of yet, Jondy had achieved no success whatsoever in uncovering the location of the mysterious X5. As much as Molly hated to admit it, she believed that there was no way they were going to find him if the police didn't want him found. Of course, she would never mention this to her friend who seemed extremely adamant in her search, but she thought it futile nevertheless.
Just then the door opened and Jondy came walking through briskly, her hair darkened a shade from the rain that had sufficiently soaked it through.
Molly had noticed an obvious change in Jondy during the last week. She never before had been so serious and resolute about anything and, emotionally, she seemed to have aged at least thirty years. Whereas before she had acted like any other twenty year-old, now she seemed like a seasoned war veteran that had been hardened by many years of combat.
And in a sense she was just that.
"What's up?" Molly asked.
"I may have a lead on something," Jondy replied distractedly, not looking up as she dug around in the backpack she'd been carrying.
"And?"
Jondy pulled a packet out and tossed it to Molly.
Molly quickly opened it up and her heart sank when she realized what it was.
"There's only one ticket in here."
"That's because I'm not going back. Not yet at least," Jondy replied; now watching Molly with full attention.
"I thought you said it was too dangerous to risk using the airports right now," Molly argued although she knew it was a waste of breath.
"You're not going on the main airlines. I found an old friend that helped me a long time ago. He said he could fly you out on his private plane."
"But you can't land a private plane in the U.S. anymore," Molly really was confused now. Jondy looked at the floor and then it started to dawn on her.
"I'm not going back to the U.S. am I?" she asked.
"Molly," Jondy attempted to explain, "I can't send you back. I know Manticore better than anyone. They'll never stop looking for you. They'll find you and they'll kill you," her voice quieted, "Going back would be a death sentence and I can't be responsible for any more blood on my hands."
"What do you mean?"
Jondy sighed.
"You know how I said you were the first person I ever told about me?" Molly nodded silently.
Jondy continued, "Well, that's not entirely true. When I first got out a man and his son took me in, thinking I was just a runaway or an orphan. Eventually I told them the truth. Then one day the son, Steph, and I came home and found the house burning. The newspapers called it a freak accident, that Steph's dad had fallen asleep while the stove was on or something. But I know that wasn't what happened. So I took Steph to Canada and found him a family to adopt him. When I was sure he'd be okay, I left and didn't look back. I hadn't told anybody else since then. I wouldn't have ever told you either."
Molly looked at the floor; ashamed she'd brought out more painful secrets that Jondy obviously did not care to talk of.
"I understand," she relented, "but I'm still worried about you," Molly paused for a second, undecided as to whether she should say what she really thought or not.
"I can take care of myself, Molly. I've been doing it for eleven years."
"I know...that's not exactly what I'm worried about."
"Well, then what?" Jondy queried.
"It's the government here. Being a cop I'm pretty familiar with the system in this country as well and, I'm telling you, we seem like angels compared to the Africans."
Jondy sighed, "I've heard the rumors. And, yes, they probably are all mostly true. It still doesn't change anything."
Molly defiantly continued, "Joa-...Jondy... in all probability he's already dead. I've never once heard of anyone lasting through more than a couple days of their methods over here. And as soon as he broke they would have no reason to keep him alive."
Jondy shook her head slowly, absently wiping a strand of wet hair from her face and brushing it behind her ear.
"He won't break. He can't. None of us can."
Molly didn't say anything but her questioning gaze was enough for Jondy to continue on.
"We were taught techniques to withstand torture, no matter what the kind. And believe me, the African's methods are nothing like what Manticore taught us about. Here it's completely physically based. They have nothing at all that relies on the psychological means of it. If, and may I emphasize the 'if', he breaks it won't be for months and maybe even years. That gives me plenty of time to find him still. And I intent to take full advantage of that."
"I'm starting to get this weird vibe that arguing with you doesn't do much good, does it?" Molly said dryly, crossing her arms in mock annoyance. Jondy smiled slightly.
"Nope. No good at all."
The following morning Cole knew something was different. As a habit he never opened his eyes immediately after awakening; he first always took several minutes to listen and observe with all his other senses until he had at least a vague idea of where he was. When you were constantly on the brink of getting killed by an enemy it was a good practice to follow. Just in case.
For the last few times he'd woken up he'd heard the familiar hum of machines and quiet footsteps against the tiled hallway outside his room. He'd been able to only barely move his fingers and slide them over the smooth metal surface of the surgical table he was secured to tightly by thick bonds, having a texture that had surely come straight out of the Middle Ages, Cole thought. It felt more like a rolled up burlap sack was holding his limbs in position than any type of rope he had ever felt. Unfortunately it was a very thick and inflexible burlap sack.
But today everything he'd grown accustomed to waking up with had changed. He was in utter silence. Nothing more than his shallow breathing and pulsing blood could be heard by even Cole's sensitive ears. No machinery, no footsteps, no voices...
Cole tested his hand ever so slightly and was shocked to find his hands were no longer tied down. He dragged his finger along the surface of the table to discover it was no longer the table at all. No, in fact it was dirt.
Unable to resist any longer, he opened his eyes and found himself staring dumbfounded into the shining night sky.
What was going on?
Cole gingerly moved his head, relieved to find the usual headache resulting from the massive amounts of drugs they'd been pumping into his body for the last week was no longer there.
He then started to realize something really was wrong.
Not only was his injured leg no longer radiating even the smallest amount of discomfort but also he seemed to have no feeling at all. Not in the sense that he couldn't feel stuff, actually his already enhanced senses seemed to be in heavy overload if nothing else. But when Cole sat up and accidentally placed his hand on a sharp thorn that punctured his palm he didn't feel it. Not until he looked at it and saw the thorn sticking from his skin and the blood trickling down his palm did he even notice it had happened at all.
Frowning Cole tried something else. He slowly got to his feet, prepared for a fresh burst of pain from his leg, but received nothing at all. He took a step and rested on that leg. For a moment he felt the oddest sensation in the back of his neck, like a tingling, but it disappeared as soon as it had come. Cole's frown deepened.
Looking around he could see nothing but the sparse vegetation of the African grasslands, no sign of the facility he'd been in existed.
Still weary of his leg, Cole took another few steps forward. Nothing. It felt as good as new. Maybe even better. That it itself was wrong. He hadn't been here that long, had he? Even an X5 couldn't recover from a broken bone it that short of time. Not so they felt no sign of it at all.
Once convinced that the bone was not going to give out on him, Cole took off at a loping jog in the northern direction. He was bound to run into something sooner or later.
But what the hell was going on??