Oculus (Oculus #1) (30 page)

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Authors: J. L. Mac,L. G. Pace III

BOOK: Oculus (Oculus #1)
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G
OING TO SEE MY DAD
seems the best way to start the day. Sleep remained elusive throughout the night in spite of great effort on my part. I think the combination of anger and helplessness made an unbeatable insomnia cocktail. Shutting off my emotions has proven to be difficult, more so after nearly blowing a fuse trying to concentrate on Sic yesterday.

Like stretching a muscle beyond its limits, my head throbbed, my skin burned, the veins in my neck seemed to snake atop my skin. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I did it. I focused my thoughts on Sic and there he was in my mind’s eye. Real enough to touch…

The doors to the room my father is in slide open just to reveal the one person I have no interest in seeing at the moment—at all. From behind the tinted lenses of my glasses I watch as she surveys me head to toe. Her dark hair is so smooth, every strand in place. Her security uniform is crisp. The toes of her black boots glisten under the hospital’s fluorescent lighting.

“Maintain him and keep me abreast of his status,” Chief Williams orders with a nod of her head in the direction of my father’s sleeping form.

“Yes, Chief,” the nurse returns her nod obligingly and scurries for the door, undoubtedly wanting to escape the bubble of Chief Williams’ authoritative personality.

“Ms. Tierney, I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to dispatch agents to your unit to escort you here.”

“Chief? What’s going on?”

I tap my way across the hospital room to where she’s standing. It takes great effort for me to not look at my father. I can tell something is wrong and my first instinct is to run to him.

“Please sit,” she commands, escorting me to a small couch against the wall. “Unfortunately, your father has had a stroke and the doctors say that he is in a coma.”

Before thinking of anything else, I leap to my feet and stumble forward to his bedside. “Dad,” I rasp, feeling desperate and helpless to make him better. His hands are warm and his outward appearance gives away nothing about a stroke. His injuries haven’t changed much. He has an ugly bruise ringing one eye. The gashes on his head are still there, securely closed with some sort of tape. His features are relaxed, every wrinkle subdued by the deepest of sleep. I lean forward and rest my ear against his chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart. My fingers instinctively go to the pendant he has always worn.

“Will he wake up?” I ask tentatively, fearing the answer.

“His brain was without adequate oxygen for some measure of time. The machines you hear are supporting him entirely. I’m so sorry, Ms. Tierney.”

“But he can still wake up, right? He can get better?”

Chief Williams’ contrite sigh is the only answer she supplies. It’s a spear through my heart.

“Isn’t there anything they can do? Medicine? What about consciousness serum?”

“I wish it were that simple. Doctor Tierney is such an asset to The Corporation. They will continue his care until his time runs out, your time runs out or you wish to cease life support efforts.”

“Time? He’s the lead genetics researcher!” The disbelief in my voice is difficult to conceal.

“You know the rules of this compound, Ms. Tierney and unfortunately we cannot show favoritism for one employee over all the rest.”

“They’re going to charge him
time
? After all he’s done for Fenra? All his research?”

“Until it’s gone and then you may use your time.”

I absently rub the Fenra cuff around my wrist thinking that the metal isn’t worth its weight because I don’t earn any of my own time. I live off what my father has supplied for the both of us.

“I have no time. You know that.” The defeat I feel is a leaden weight. If only I could work.

“Sure you do. If you want it…” I feel as though I’m a specimen in the lab the way the Chief is watching me with curiosity, waiting to see how I’ll react to her stimulus.

“I’ll have enough to keep him here? And our unit?” Hope in spite of circumstances germinates within my heart compelling me to do all I can to help it flourish and bloom. I want to believe that I have options. I want to believe that I can do something to help my father and maybe even help Sic too. Denying the Chief of Security doesn’t exactly seem like an option anyway. The tell tale sense of being preyed upon is my proof of that. This woman isn’t one that accepts no for an answer on a regular basis. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.

“You’ll have everything you need. Both of you.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good. I’ll pay you a visit this afternoon. We need to begin putting the residents at ease right away.”

“I don’t really know how you expect me to do that, but I’ll try.”

“Don’t worry, dear. I didn’t get to where I am because I have a shortage of inventive ideas.” The self-confident smirk on her face sends a chill through my veins. My experience with Ingram is still so fresh and somehow the intimidating aura he radiated seems like child’s play compared to the woman I just agreed to work with.

I hadn’t wanted to revisit my father’s box in the floorboards again for fear of what else I might find. With frayed emotions and my mind whirling in a thousand different directions, one more unexpected detail about my life is the last thing I need to stumble upon, but the fact remains; I need information if I have any hopes whatsoever of helping Sic or myself out of the mess we’re in and with my father’s condition being what it is, the bookmark is my only source of information at this point. I had hoped—had counted on having time to ask my father questions once he had recovered enough to come home. The thought that he may never come home terrifies me.

I turn the dull metal bookmark over in my hands once before a low frequency buzz seems to emanate from the metal itself, followed by a voice.

“Bio-verified. Iris. Tierney.”

“Iris. What you’re about to hear, you’ll only hear once, so listen closely. If you’re listening to this, it means you already know at least part of the truth, part of your history and that puts you in even more danger than you already are. There are people who, if they found out you existed, they would hunt you down until they possessed you. There is nothing they will not do to get you because of what you are. I’m sorry I can’t tell you in person, but if you are hearing this I’m likely already gone. You need to understand and there is very little time, so I must be blunt. You are the one and only Oculus, a corporate designed genetically altered person. The program paired a male and female unit, one as a protector, one as an information gatherer. I temporarily took away your sight to impede the development of your gift. With this bookmark there is a device that will restore your sight. Once you have done so it is imperative that you let no one know that you can see. They will keep their guard down if they think you are blind and the sudden return of your vision would raise too many undesirable questions. Know this though, once you restore your sight you will have no choice but to make your escape. Your restored vision will allow your other abilities to develop and it will be impossible for you to hide among the masses. Then you will have to try and make your way to safety. Your best bet is to get to The Resistance out in the Dark Lands. You may hear the word arbitrium spoken. It’s from an old language, a forgotten language. It means decide. Make your decisions clearly and don’t waver in them. In the event that you are going to be taken, or if you choose to remain blind and hide here, I can only offer you one solution. My pendant is not just a necklace. Contained within is a serum, a bioweapon that will completely wipe your mind. Inject it directly into the neck and you’ll forget everything. Permanently. If you know nothing, if you remember nothing, there is a chance that you’ll be safe. If they discover who you truly are, the best that you can hope for is a life of imprisonment. I’ve tried to keep you safe all your life. In doing so, I kept you in the dark and for that I am both sorry and grateful. Sorry that I have done what I’ve done and grateful that at least I succeeded for as long as I did. Be safe, my girl. I love you.”

The bookmark is unassuming enough for something concealing so much explosive information. Explosive is the only word that comes to mind and even that feels like a terrible understatement.

My father’s words swirl through my mind leaving me dizzy and frustrated that yet again I’m left with more questions than answers. I look down at the pendant hanging around my neck and find it fitting that it reminds me of the pendulum on a great clock… or the blade of a guillotine.

“Arbitrium,” I whisper to myself remembering that I’ve heard this word once before when I was arrested. A man said the word to my father and he had gasped.

Is my dad involved with The Resistance?

I’ve never felt so confused and scared. All I can think of is my dad and Sic, but at the moment they are both lost to me.

“Ms. Tierney, what’s something you’d say you enjoy?”

“Something I enjoy?”

“Yes. You know, like a hobby, a past time.”

“I used to like gardening. Planting things.”

“Why would you say you enjoy gardening?”

“I don’t know. I guess I haven’t given it much thought. I just like knowing that I’ve grown something. I cultivated something. The way dirt feels in my hands…”

“But, you’ll never be able to see the fruits of your labor.”

“I don’t see anything, Chief Williams.”

“True. The knowledge that you had the power and skill to take something raw and redefine its existence is reward enough, I suppose.”

“Makes no difference to me. I don’t know what I’m missing.”

“Yes. I suppose so.”

“And what do you enjoy, Chief Williams?”

“The same thing as you—using power and skill to take something raw and redefine its existence.”

“You have an interesting take on things. If I said I like long walks in the evening sun would that mean I’m a blind daredevil?”

“Perhaps. Do you truly enjoy taking walks?”

“Doesn’t everyone? I suppose I enjoy it about as much as the next person.”

“Good. You’ve given me an idea. What do you say to a nice walk this evening? Outside the wall.”

“You’re joking right?”

“I’m not. What’s more reassuring than our resident blind girl taking a comfortable stroll outside our walls and returning safe and sound?”

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