The Samantha Project (23 page)

Dr. Anderson yanked at my shoulder. “Enough of that. You’ve said your goodbyes. Times up.”

I stared at Dave, desperation in my eyes. Go to where? Where do I go? I could tell he was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear him. What was wrong? Was he too far away? Maybe I was too stressed. I took a deep breath as my tears continued to flow.

“Are you crying?” Anderson asked, laughing at me. “I guess you really like this old washed-up computer guy.”
 

“Goodbye, Sam. Be strong. You can do this.” By his words, I knew Dave was talking about my escape, but Dr. Anderson assumed he was referring to the testing.

“That a boy, Dave. Get the girl back in training mode. Maybe I won’t tell on you for that necklace stunt after all. Now get out of here.”

Dave left, looking back at me the whole time. He gave me a stern look of confidence. He knew I put my chances for escape at less than one percent. I didn’t like doing things unless I knew I would be successful. Any doubts could keep me from even trying. But Dave’s look was clear. I had to try. No doubts. I had to believe in myself. I had to be certain that I would succeed. Or I would never, ever leave this place.

As Dave left, the researchers returned with even more carts full of equipment. Within minutes they had me hooked up to some machine. But I was at least allowed to sit in a chair rather than be chained to the bed. They retested my hearing and vision, which had already advanced tremendously from earlier in the week.
 

I could now hear a person whispering on the other end of the telephone when it was placed at the opposite end of the room. If I listened intently, I could even hear words and phrases said outside the concrete walls, although I didn’t let the researchers know that.
 

My vision had improved to the point that is was beyond measurable. The researchers kept making the eye chart smaller and smaller until it was microscopic. At that point, I told them I couldn’t see it, but I could still read each letter. Next they turned off the lights and asked me to try reading the regular eye chart. The letters were just as clear as when the light was shining.

The afternoon was the start of the telepathy training. They knew I had mind-reading abilities but weren’t sure how strong they were or if I could control them. Each researcher took out a device from their lab coat and pressed a button. I assumed it was the brain wave scrambler Dave talked about. Sure enough. Suddenly I could hear the thoughts of the researcher who was closest to me.
“Samantha, can you hear me?”

I looked up at him as if he were speaking, which instantly told him I could hear his thoughts. I looked at the other researchers, who seemed to be talking in their heads to see if I could hear them. But I really couldn’t, unless I focused on them or if they were standing right next to me. It wasn’t like in the movies where a superhero can hear everyone’s thoughts all at once, jumbled together. I could only hear one person at a time, and I had to really concentrate.
 

The rest of day 5 and all of day 6 was spent with the researchers trying to figure out how my mind was able to read thoughts and why it heard only one voice at a time. They did multiple brain scans while continuing to talk to me with their thoughts.
 

Whatever they inserted in my genetic code all those years ago had allowed for this ability. But it was clear that GlobalLife had not yet been able to figure out how the gene actually worked. It seemed to have mutated over time and was now far more complex. Without knowing more about the gene, they wouldn’t be able to replicate it.

By the end of Friday, day 7, the researchers were frustrated that they didn’t have the answers they needed. I could tell that my mind-reading ability was going to be a big part of the presentation on Monday. If the researchers explained it as merely the result of genetic manipulation with no details on how to replicate it, Dr. Worthings would not be pleased.

On Saturday, my room was finally quiet and free from equipment. I was sure there would be more testing later, so I took time to rest and think about my escape. The meeting would start at 8 a.m. sharp on Monday, and I had to figure out how to get out of my underground bunker, past the guards, and to the car that Dave had hidden in the nearby woods. And most important, I had to get that necklace back.

To my surprise, the whole day went by without any testing. I had my usual delivery of nutrition pills, which was what I had been given for meals since arriving there. GlobalLife Pharmaceuticals had created the pills, supposedly for developing countries where food is scarce. But in reality, GlobalLife had already made a deal with the military to use them for soldiers, which was much more lucrative than doling them out to starving people in third world nations. They also had plans to repackage them as diet pills.
 

Every day, at 8, noon, and 5, I had my delivery of the nutrition pills, along with a glass of water. Taken together, the five red capsules contained all the nutrients I needed. The pills even came in different calorie levels so you could adjust dosage based on an individual’s size and age. I hated the pills and desperately yearned to eat real food again.
 

By the time my evening pills arrived that night, I had spent hours working on my escape. My mind was exhausted but I figured I had to use every last minute to work on my plan.
 

I tried to get just a few hours of sleep but my thoughts kept going to Colin and how much I missed him. I pictured him there with me, telling me everything would be okay. I couldn’t imagine a future where I would never see him again. I loved him. And I was so glad that I had finally told him that on the last night I saw him. I realized that if I ever did escape, I would have to go into hiding, which meant that I might never see Colin again. And he would never know what happened to me.
 

My heart sank at the thought of it. Why had I taken Colin for granted all those years? Why had I waited so long to tell him how I felt? I would never meet a guy like Colin again. He was the one. And all those years that we had been friends, I never realized it. Until it was too late.
 

I wondered what Colin thought of me after hearing GlobalLife’s fake message saying I dumped him. I couldn’t imagine the hurt and betrayal he would be feeling. Maybe he wouldn’t believe it. But why wouldn’t he? It’s not like he would ever guess the message was from some global corporation that captured his girlfriend.
 

I had to get back to my escape plan, but my mind wandered back to what things could have been like if all of this had never happened. I imagined my parents still alive. Dave coming over for dinner every Sunday. My graduation from Stanford. Colin going to medical school. I pictured us in the future, a few years after college. Colin and I would get married in a small church. My parents would be so happy. We would
all
be happy. Just imagining it lulled me into a deep sleep.

I woke the next morning to the cold, hard reality of my prison cell. I heard the guards outside changing shifts, so I figured it was 9. That meant the meeting was less than 24 hours away and I still didn’t have my necklace. Nobody had come or gone for a day, other than the attendant who brought in my pills at mealtimes. I looked on my side table to see that the attendant had already been there. My water and five pills sat there on a metal tray.
 

I started to run through various scenarios in my head, but I could really only think of one way to escape. There would be a short window of time when the door would be open for the attendant to drop off my morning pills. Around that time, Dave said that he would ignite a small explosive in the lab next to the conference room. The lab was full of explosive chemicals, so it really wouldn’t be that unlikely a scenario.
 

The explosion would cause high-alert status in the building, meaning all guards would have to report to their respective stations until they got the all clear. There was a good chance that additional guards would have to rush to protect the conference room and the important people in it. That meant that several of my guards would be sent upstairs. But some guards would remain and I would have just a few minutes to get past them and make a run for it.
 

I played out the scene in my head for several hours. Lunch arrived, but still nobody from the research team showed up. Later that night, Hannah came in, holding what looked like some type of 1970s jumpsuit. It was dark blue with a large white GlobalLife logo on the upper left shoulder.
 

“They need to make sure this fits, “ she said, walking over to my bed to free me from the clamps. “Try it on.”
 

I hesitated as she stood there staring at me. “Well, are you going to leave? Or at least turn around?”

“Just put it on.” She seemed upset—like she was in trouble for something.

“Fine.” I pulled off my white hospital gown and put on the jumpsuit. It was made of some weird fabric that seemed to glue itself to my skin. Another GlobalLife creation, I thought. “Yeah, it fits.”

I took it off and gave it back to Hannah. “They said you don’t need to be clamped down tonight. They want you to walk around and stretch so you’re in good shape for your performance tomorrow.” She talked as if I were in some gymnastics meet. I was elated at the news because it meant I would be able to practice using my new strength.

As she started to leave, I called after her. “Hannah, do you know anything about what I’m supposed to do at this meeting tomorrow?” I figured I better play along, in case any suspicion was rising about a possible attempt to flee.

“No, I really don’t.” She turned back. “They don’t tell me anything. I’m just the data entry girl. And the person they like to blame when things don’t go right.” She rolled her eyes. I was surprised that Hannah would even respond to my question, but seeing her express emotion was even more unusual.
 

“You have to be up early tomorrow. I’ll be bringing in your breakfast at 6. I have to finalize your charts for the presentation. Oh, and Dr. Worthings is here. He’ll be in shortly.” She quickly left and closed the door behind her.
 

Dr. Worthings? He must be in town for the meeting, I thought. I suddenly felt sick. The meeting was just hours away. I looked around at my concrete cell, feeling completely hopeless as reality started to sink in. I wouldn’t be able to escape. What was I thinking? Why was I even considering it? Pure hope and desperation, I guess. Even with my abilities, even with all my planning, how would I get out of the building without getting caught?
 

I started to panic. Once I was caught, what would they do to me? Would they hurt Dave in order to punish me? Or do something to Colin? As my thoughts raced, I heard the door open.

“Well, hello there, Samantha. My little starlet.” It was Dr. Worthings, in the flesh. He was very tall and his spiky blond hair only made him look taller. He wore a dark suit and gray dress shirt with a black tie. He looked like he should be attending a funeral.
 

“Hello,” I said, in a voice that made it clear I wasn’t happy to see him.
 

“So, it sounds like you’re all ready for your performance tomorrow.”
 

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘performance.’ Nobody’s told me what’s going on at this meeting. What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re going to show the leaders of the world your exceptional abilities. We’ll show them videos of course. We’ve been filming your training this past week, but that’s not the same as seeing it live. Once you read their minds and show off your incredibly good vision, hearing, and strength, you’ll have the whole room mesmerized. And that’s just a taste of what’s to come. We’ve only just begun to see what you can do. In the weeks and months ahead, you’ll develop even greater abilities that we have yet to discover.”

“I’m not going to just do whatever you tell me. I’m not some circus animal. If you have videos of me, then you don’t need me to do anything.”

He got closer and grabbed my hospital gown, pulling me toward him so close that I could feel his breath. “You WILL do what we tell you because you know what we’re capable of.” He released me and stepped back. “It’s such a shame when I have to dispose of good people. Like your parents, Samantha. We wouldn’t want to lose even more good people, now would we?”

Taunting me with the reminder that GlobalLife had killed my parents, under his orders, caused my mind to swirl with rage, giving me a pounding headache. “I want the necklace,” I demanded.
 

“What? What necklace?” Worthings looked confused at the sudden change in topic.

“I want the necklace that Uncle Dave gave me. Dr. Anderson took it from me. He has it and I want it. If you don’t give it to me, I’m not doing what you ask, no matter what you threaten to do.”

“What’s so special about this necklace?” he asked suspiciously.

“It was my mother’s. An anniversary gift from my father. It’s all I have to remember them by. And if you give it back to me, I promise you, I’ll do whatever you ask tomorrow at the meeting.”

Worthings considered the idea, pacing back and forth as he tried to think of any harm a necklace could do.
 

“Fine. But this is the last demand you’re making.”

“I want it tonight. I’m nervous about tomorrow. Having the necklace will calm me.” It sounded convincing because it wasn’t a lie—having the necklace would make me feel better, but better about my escape, not the meeting.

“An attendant will bring it down.” His annoyance at having to give in to my demand gave me a flicker of joy. This was a man who never gave up control. Who never let others dictate his actions. And if other people had been in the room that night, Worthings would have never backed down. It was a small victory. And one I greatly needed. Step one of my plan was complete.

When Worthings left, I felt a resurgence of hope. Getting the necklace was a win I never thought I could achieve. I felt confident again. But my small win was just the first hurdle. I had many more difficult ones ahead. I committed to spending the rest of the night replaying each detail of my plan in my head. I reviewed all the mental notes I had made about the guards the past week: when they changed shifts, which ones were less attentive, how often they left their posts.