Summer in the Colorado Mountains was still plagued with the occasional snow fall. The children at Camp Demeter did not find the unusual weather as troublesome as the agents and soldiers. They romped mercilessly through the white powder, enjoying the brief time that they were permitted to spend out in the crisp air.
Camp Demeter was a military organized facility for the sons and daughters of high ranking soldiers and powerful politicians that were deemed "special," "dangerous," or, as what was their given name, mutants. Surprisingly, there were a great number in attendance, and the majority of them were very young. Some of the leading geneticists believed that the mutations presented themselves earlier in these children due to their highly stressful and sometimes dangerous lives. The camp was their home. Most families never visited, and those that did were often distressed and did not remain long. Despite this, those in charge attempted to maintain the feeling of home, but it was often destroyed due to military protocols.
The children called the woman in charge of them "Doc," but the soldiers called her "Colonel," despite the fact that she was indeed a rank lower. She was an atypical military woman: she had a doctorate in genetics, specializing in mutations. That was the reason that she had been reassigned from special operations to Camp Demeter. She welcomed the changed with open arms, savoring the feeling of humanitarian jobs. Only once before had she worked in a laboratory, and when she had placed her resignation on Stryker's desk, she a sworn that it was the last. And yet, here she was, dressed in the stereotypical lab-rat attire, stationed at a place where officials hid their "secrets" and waited for her to find a "cure" for mutation. The Colonel hated the parents for it. She did enough to give the illusion that she was diligently progressing, but in reality, she was merely researching ways to suppress dangerous mutations to a level where the children could adapt and be taught to control it.
"Reyna," a female voice called from the doorway. "The kids wanted me to remind you that you promised to play hide-and-go-seek with them outside."
"Yes, I remember," Reyna growled, eyes obscured by the eyepieces of the microscope. "But right now, I am otherwise engaged."
"What's that?" the woman asked, creeping closer to the table. "A new product?"
"Actually, it's Jamie's DNA. I was curious to see if the serum that I created for myself could apply to different people with very different gifts."
"Didn't you specifically engineer that to increase…"
"Yes," she cut in quickly. "I did, but what I'm discovering is that what acts as an enhancer for me is an inhibitor for Jamie. Meaning, under these circumstances, his mutation is actually regressing."
"Well, no offence, but I think that if you told Jamie that you were looking to fix him, you will never get him to open up to you ever again."
"Yeah, I know, and after it took me nearly two years for him to trust me, I'd never even mention that I had his DNA under the microscope."
The blonde woman laughed lightly, tugging the woman away from the machine. The doctor batted the hands away from her form, rising above the other woman, striding powerfully to the door. The blonde trailed her like a puppy, her eyes goggling. Reyna discarded her lab coat, revealing a slimming, low-cut black short sleeve that blended seamlessly into long pants. She removed the clip that held her dark brown hair secured, sending it tumbling and cascading down her strong shoulders. The tresses curled and tossed haphazardly, several strands obscuring her hazel eyes. She flicked them to the side.
"Oh, one more thing before you leave," the blonde yelled before Reyna had exited. "General Malcolm wants to know what your progress is. He wants the cure completed before your retirement."
"Grand. Don't they realize that there is no cure? Ugh. The only cure would be to get these kids out of here and into another place."
"What's wrong with this place?"
"Lacey, this isn't a home. It's a damn military base. The kids know it. The fact that we have soldiers here is a huge reminder. They need to get into a place where there are more kids their own age and no military guards."
"Which reminds me: your father called this morning."
Reyna stopped, her head jerking toward Lacey. Her blood painted lips gapped, revealing pointy, elongated pearl canines. She and her father had not spoken in a year. For him to be calling her now was quite an interesting development. She turned her shock into a grin, striding down the hallway. Two armed guards stood in front of a heavy cement door. They stood straight at attention, saluting their commander. No, this is not the home for teenagers, she thought, brushing past them.
Two hours later, Reyna lounged in her luxurious leather office chair, absently examining the dark telephone situated in the corner of her mahogany desk. A small slip of paper inscribed with a telephone number slid easily through her fingers. Her dark eyes were unfocused, black lids closing occasionally to shield the orbs from air damage. Her burgundy lips were molded into a stiff frown, casting a staid shadow across her young, beautiful face. Dark chocolate brows were knitted deeply in concentration, and her posture remained static.
In a sweep of motion, her hands elegantly snatched the phone from its cradle; her other hand expertly dialing the prescribed number into the keys. Her fingers then began to drum a rhythm on the desk as the ringing continued, awaiting someone to answer it. Moments later, a smooth, elder male voice announced: "Reyna, I'm glad you decided to call. I have a few things I would like to discuss with you. Now, you are still working in Camp Demeter, correct?"
