The Sphinx Project (25 page)

"Heya," she said happily as she saw my eyes resting on her. In those two syllables, I could hear that she had some sort of odd accent.

"Hi," I replied, trying to get my brain into order and differentiate my dreams from reality.

I pushed myself into sitting position. She was now decked out in black leather pants and those killer boots, but she hadn't yet donned a shirt and was wearing nothing but a really pretty purple bra with shimmering lace.

"I'm Michaela," I said as soon as I could think straight. "That's Mouse," I continued, shoving a thumb over my shoulder to indicate the sleeping girl behind me.

"Nike," she replied with a friendly smile. "You came in last night, yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

Finished with the polish, she screwed the black lid back onto the glass bottle, tossing it onto the pile of stuff that obviously belonged to her. She was quite different from Iona, whose belongings were lined up as precisely as her weapons had been last night.

"So," she said, conversationally. "Matt said you might have some questions for me, but I think there's something we need to get out of the way first."

She picked up a small glass bottle and spritzed it around her throat. She lounged back against the wall, bringing her legs up and resting her hands over them to allow the nails to dry.

Yep, there was definitely an accent there. It could be Australian, but more likely New Zealand. I was sure one of the facilities had been based there.

As the scent of the perfume floated toward me, I caught me breath. It was
her
.

"What do you want?" I scrambled backwards, reaching for my weapons. I couldn't keep the accusing tone out of my voice.

"You don't need those," she said calmly as my hand closed around a sheath of throwing knives. "That first night at the motel, I only meant to talk to you. When you tried to sneak up behind me, I thought you were on their side."

"So what exactly are you?" I asked, not loosening my grip.

"I'm like you." She fluttered her hands, attempting to make the polish dry faster.

"But we were told that the earlier experiments hadn't worked out so well and you're a bit older than us." I guessed that she was in her mid-twenties. She carried herself with an air of confidence none of us had yet earned through age.

"I was the only exception. I don't think the majority of our kind knows about me. I was the stepping stone between them and you. Before I came along, the New Zealand lab had a bit of a cash injection. They decided instead of trying to make a team, they were going to concentrate on one, and put all of the money into that individual. Me."

I nodded. That made sense and it explained the accent.

"I'm not perfect, of course. There are a lot of little glitches, but I'm normal enough. They based you on me."

"So why are you here? Surely they wouldn't let you leave."

Her hoot of laughter gave me a fright—and Mouse, too, who jumped in her sleep before turning over and mumbling to herself.

"Of course not. Long story short, I thought I was on the good side. I wasn't. I got out of there."

"Ah…" I couldn't think of anything else to say really.

"Yep." Deciding that her nails were dry enough, she reached to the side of her sleeping roll and dug around in the pile of clothes, pulling a black tank top from the heap. "I'm going for a ride. Want to come?" she asked.

"Ride?" I questioned, unsure.

"Motorbike." She grinned, waving a key ring with a single key in front of me. "I bought it with my last check and I'm still in the 'new toy' phase."

"Oh, yeah, please." I needed to do something. If I stayed here, I'd be stuck in the little office all day.

"How soon can you be ready?"

I responded noncommittally but jumped from my bed. I yanked on some jeans and a plain shirt with my leather jacket over top. It took no time at all.

"Mouse," I murmured, gently rocking her shoulder. "Mouse, can you wake up for a moment?"

She groaned but opened her eyes slightly. "Whatcha doing?" she slurred.

"I'm going out for a little bit with Nike. Are you okay here?"

She nodded, sleepily batting my hand away and closing her eyes again.

Nike led the way from the room, once again executing the perfect dive into a silent landing onto the concrete below. I was a little more reserved; they had always tested us at the labs, but at the same time they had limited what we were allowed to do. I figured I would start small.

Bracing my hands on the hand rails, I vaulted over the bar, landing on the outside of the safe area with my feet still on the catwalk. I stepped off the edge, catching the catwalk with my hands and a moment later I let go and dropped to the ground feet-first. I landed, crouched and rolled forward before regaining my feet.

"You need to work on that," she teased.

Looking up, I could see Jake at the end of the hall. He had been reading something but was now gaping open-mouthed at us.

"Just a sec," I said to Nike. I jogged over to Jake and saw that the book was actually a weapons catalog. "You all right?"

He nodded, eyes still wide.

"You want to do me a favor and go read upstairs with Mouse? She's still asleep."

He nodded again.

"You want me to get you anything while I'm out? A book or something?"

"Please—I don't mind what. Anything's better than this… It's all I could find."

"Sure, I'll be back soon."

He got to his feet and started for the stairs. There was one other man awake but he was too busy tapping away on his laptop to pay attention to us.

Nike led the way, her curls instantly dancing wildly in the wind as she stepped outside. She walked to the identical door on the opposite building. Typing a seven-digit number into the pin pad, it opened automatically and she showed me in. The heels of her boots made clicking noises against the concrete.

The building was identical to the one we'd left, except there was no catwalk and no offices above ground level. There were also no men, nor any camp beds. Instead, vehicles of all descriptions were parked in orderly lines up and down the huge space.

She seemed to almost skip as she made her way to the section holding all of the bikes in the far corner by the vehicle exit.

I could guess almost right away which was hers. It matched her nails.

"What is it?" I asked, admiring the shining paintwork.

"Ducati 'ninety-eight," she replied proudly. "Had to have the paintwork done specially for it." It was an incredible bike.

She lifted the helmet from the handles and handed it to me before shrugging on a leather jacket of her own. I squeezed it onto my head, a sense of security emanating from the comforting pressure.

Slinging her leg over the bike, she started it and rode a circle around the vehicles in the middle of the room before stopping in front of me again.

"Don't you want a helmet?" I asked.

"Nope. There's no point." Using an elastic from her wrist, she dragged her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head as I climbed on behind her. What did she mean, there was no point? If she was like us, she'd heal in a flash but she couldn't do that if she was dead.

We made our way to the door at a sedate speed, pushing a button on the wall to open the rolling barrier. When it was high enough, she revved the bike, bringing it up to speed.

She let out a whoop of excitement as we dipped around the corner. The light was still bright, although the sun had begun to sink in the sky. We rode for about an hour before we eventually stopped by the banks of the Hudson.

"So? What do you think?" she asked, eyes bright with excitement.

"I think I'm in love! How much did it set you back?" I asked in awe, pulling the helmet from my head and shaking my hair free.

"Now that would be telling," she teased, tapping her nose. "Come on, come sit with me."

"So, you're the reason for this whole shebang are you?" She flopped down onto the grass and I lowered myself to sit cross-legged beside her.

"I guess so." My mood instantly became more solemn.

"So what's happening?" Her tone was kind; she was probably one of the only people who really understood what we were going through.

"I guess I'll copy you on this one… Long story short, we grew up in the labs, as you know. It was a bit different for us than the others, I think. Our birth mom was always around. We lived on the grounds of the complex, but then five years ago my mom was killed and things changed. They locked us into a room with the other girls, not letting us out unless we were under constant guard. And even then that was just for training."

She didn't say anything, she seemed happy to listen.

"We were sick of it. An earthquake hit the labs; we made the most of it and ran away. We were doing okay, but then there was a tsunami in California. Then they found us in New York and caught Nicole and Briana. Now we're trying to get them back."

"I think I know what happened five years ago," she murmured, looking a little guilty.

"Well, we think it was because mom was trying to get us out," I said, explaining about James and the medical records.

"It probably didn't help that it was five years ago that I escaped." Her downcast eyes showed a little sorrow. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to be sorry," I scolded. "We would have done exactly the same."

"But now your friends are in an even worse position than before."

"And we will get them back," I said fiercely.

Flicking her eyes to the black watch resting around her wrist, she stood. "You needed to get some stuff before we went back, right?"

"Yeah, is there a mall around here?"

We walked back to the bike, climbing on and speeding off again. We were lucky not to pass any police.

Nike knew the area already. Apparently she'd been living around here for a while before she was called up by Matt; they'd met a few years ago when he'd still been in school. She'd done some sort of job for Marissa.

We came across a strip of stores and I found the bookstore easily. Brightly colored lights twinkled in the windows and a snowman had been painted on the glass, reading. I took a moment to puzzle over the strange image before going in.

Nike had no interest in the books, but she had to pick up something else while I tried to figure out what Jake would like. I settled on two books. One was about some army guy nicknamed The Scarecrow, the other about gladiators in Ancient Rome.

I chose a magazine about computers for Mouse and made my way to the counter. Paying for my purchases, I turned to find Nike holding a carrier bag. I didn't ask what was in it and she didn't tell.

"Is there anything else?" she asked.

"Just one thing…"

***

We arrived back at the warehouse to find it in a flurry of activity. Everyone was awake and there were even more men milling about. I wondered how many would be here by the time we were actually going to leave.

We climbed the stairs with our purchases, pausing at the closed door to our room. I could hear two raised heartbeats and some strange noises… kissing noises. I knocked hesitantly before pushing the door open.

Mouse and Jake were in the process of pushing away from each other as we walked in. I said nothing, simply raising an eyebrow, but Nike actually laughed.

"Here," I said, tossing the bookshop bag to Jake, who was trying to straighten his glasses. He looked flustered.

Mouse glared at me while she smoothed the fabric of her shirt. "Oh, relax. I didn't say anything." I poked my tongue out at her.

Flopping myself down on my stomach, I pulled four spoons from the paper bag and tipped it out. "Ben and Jerry. The two men who know exactly how to make me happy." I sighed, popping the lid off and peeling back the foil.

"Is that your breakfast?" Mouse asked sternly.

"Yep, the joys of being all growed up and adult-like," I said in a little kid's voice.

She shook her head before dropping down beside me and scooping a large spoonful into her mouth.

"You want some?" I asked, offering the tub to the other two.

Jake shook his head, distracted by the blurb on the back of the book, while Nike sat down next to us.

"Is this a genetically advanced female thing?" Jake asked, not lifting his eyes from the book.

"What?" Mouse cringed, pressing her palm against her forehead and rolling onto her back. "Stupid brain freeze!" she moaned.

"Being obsessed with ice cream," Jake answered.

"Oh, no. Of course not," Nike answered cheerfully. "Ice cream is a female thing in general. Guys never understand it."

Jake turned to the first page of the book and began reading. Nike and Mouse were talking about some sort of processor. Scooping the last of the ice cream into my mouth, I tried to ready myself for what I was about to do.

I left the room, closing the door behind me, and went off in search of Matt. I found him easily enough, in the office opposite ours once again. He was alone again. "I thought I told you not to go wandering around without myself or Nike," he chastised without even looking up from the map he was studying.

"I wouldn't call this wandering around. I didn't even go downstairs," I said, unable to keep the bitterness from my tone.

"What do you need?" His face softened a little, but not much.

"I wanted to know if you knew of anyone who might be willing to trade for some ammo."

Lifting his eyes, he ran them over me. "What do you need?"

I rattled off what we needed and the weapons we were willing to trade. His eyes widened. "How much stuff do you have?"

"Just what we managed to gather as we were leaving the labs," I answered.

"I'll get it for you," he promised. "You don't need to pay for it."

"Thanks," I said curtly, turning to leave.

"Can we talk for a minute?" he asked, a tone in his voice I hadn't heard before.

"It depends on what you want to talk about."

"I'm really sorry about the other night."

I turned back to him, biting my lip to keep myself from tearing up again. How was he able to make me upset? I didn't even like him.

"I guess I'm a bit cynical. I may not have been raised in a lab, but Mom didn't exactly believe in leaving her work in the office."