Ivy woke up in a small room. It was white, tiled, and meticulously clean. Fear overwhelmed her. She was in a hospital bed, wearing a pale blue hospital gown tied in the back by small strings.
"Chase?" she asked, fear creeping into her voice. There was no answer.
"Chase!" she said, louder, her voice strained. There was no answer. She sat up dizzily and looked around. She shivered; there was too much air conditioning for her frail gown. There was another white bed, this time empty. The sheets were crumpled. Chase was nowhere to be seen.
! #$%^&*
Chase was out of breath. How long had he been running? It must have been at least an hour. He was sure he couldn't run through another maze. They gave him a glass, like they did every time he finished a maze. This time, instead of water, he smelled apple juice. Chase hoped that was a good sign.
They'd never done this at the Pagoda lab. They'd just give him injections and make him read, memorize things, or learn survival instincts. One day, they'd put him into a sort of wilderness room with matches and a knife. He was supposed to come back alive in a week.
Chase shivered and downed the juice, trying to drown out the bad memory. He still had scars on his leg. Why would they purposefully lure him into a piranha tank, when the point was for him to survive?
A man wrote something on a clipboard, and came over to him. He started ripping off the colorful suction cups they had placed on his chest and back. When he was done, the man led him out of the maze room.
They weaved through complicated hallways. Chase was wondering how Ivy was. Were they hurting her too? This place was a living nightmare. He only hoped he could get out quickly.
They opened a white door and shoved him in. Ivy was on her bed, sobbing. She looked up, trying hastily to wipe her face. Chase was alarmed.
"Are you okay? What did they do to you?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said her voice thick with repressed tears. "I saw you weren't there and I thought…I thought…" she couldn't even finish her sentence.
There was a long silence. They were both wondering how they could get out of this one.
Another whitecoat, a woman, opened the door. "Subject AKW-3?" she called into the room.
"There's Ivy and Chase in here. No subject whatever," Ivy said stubbornly, recovering a little. The whitecoat obviously didn't know how to react to that one. She looked at her clipboard.
"Are you the female recombinant avian DNA experiment?" she asked.
"My name is Ivy," the little girl answered. The whitecoat scribbled something on her paper, raising an eyebrow.
"Okay, Ivy, you need to come in for testing," she said, tired of arguing. Ivy shot the whitecoat a look.
"And that's Chase," she added, following the woman out, knowing it's useless to resist.
! #$%^&*
Ivy came back that night with her arm sore. The sickly sweet taste of apple juice stuck in her throat. She'd drawn faces all day. Her right hand was tired, and her left arm had a row of red dots from needles.
She rubbed the punctures while sitting on her bed. Chase looked at her questioningly.
"They made me draw," she said.
"They made me run through mazes," he answered. There was a moment of silence. Bored, Ivy put a finger on the metal leg of her bed. A sizzling sound filled the air, and the bed frame glowed blue.
There was a crackling sound. There was an intercom? Both bird kids bolted upright.
"Subject AKW-3, AKA Ivy, has developed a new power. Subject Ivy, since when have you had this power?"
Both giggled when they called her Subject Ivy. Ivy decided to act like she'd learned from Max: snarky and arrogant.
"Ever since I saw your ugly face," she answered.
The voice, a woman, continued. "Answer or we will take it out on you and Subject Chase."
"A month ago," Ivy mumbled.
"On your self-appointed birthday?" the voice asked.
"Yeah." There was another crackle, and the voice fell silent. Ivy looked over at Chase.
"Why do they even care?" she asked him. He shrugged, leaving them both with nothing better to do than fall asleep.