Cursed (3 page)

“Great,” I muttered. He
was
a looney.

“There have been some advances in medical technology in the past century.”

I didn’t bother answering. In fact, I was fading pretty fast. Whatever it was that had happened had zapped the strength right out of me.

“You need to rest,” Julius said.

“I’ve just had a hundred years of sleep.” My words slurred.

“One hundred and ten to be exact. Have this.” Another blurry figure stepped beside him and handed him a tray. He took a glass from it.

“What is that?” I asked.

“You will like the taste, and it will let you rest properly.”

He lifted my head. I felt something at my mouth, and I sipped. A warm fluid flowed into my mouth. Thick and savory. I sipped again, and before my head rested back onto the pillow, I fell asleep.

I forced myself to wake quickly but not open my eyes. Years of practice had honed my skill. I purposely relaxed my limbs giving the impression I was still fast asleep. I listened carefully for an incidental noise, a brush, a scrape, anything. My breathing was nice, even, and light, imitating sleep.

I was fairly sure I was alone. I cracked my eyes open and looked between my lashes, watching for moving shadows or blurring shapes that would give away a presence. I waited, breathed in and out, in and out. Nice and easy. Just relax and wait. Being cautious was second nature now. I had to watch out for myself every moment of the day. There were no second chances.

Certain I was alone, I opened my eyes and scanned the room. My sight was still blurry, but not as bad as before. Doctor Looney was right. It was only a matter of time before my eyes became better able to focus. Rest and the body takes care of itself.

The lighting was dim, and my eyes quickly adjusted. It was actually quite comfortable, not harsh like some whitewashed rooms could be. The light in the little room looked as though it came directly from the walls and ceiling. They glowed, alleviating shadows and leaving everything caressed in pure light.

There was a window to my left. Lines of consecutive twinkling lights flowed one behind the other in an otherwise inky night. Thick traffic, I had to be somewhere like a city.

Mounted on the wall behind me was a sleek, flat panel with blinking lights on various screens. A graph with a fluctuating line was above another panel with flickering blue numbers. It looked glossy and high tech. Just the thing my father loved.

At the end of the bed was a solid wall of glowing white light, with a large shadowed area indicating a door. That was interesting. It looked like it had been left open. A stupid mistake on their part. One they hadn’t made before. They usually made sure I was locked up good and tight. Maybe they were trying to make their incredible story seem like it was the truth. That there was no danger. That I might be safe enough for an open door. They, my father’s followers and fellow scientists, if you could call them that, had never left a door open.

Movement snagged my attention. A flashing light. Red. A small, charcoal-colored machine, the shape of a lustrous cuboid rose above my bed at my feet. It was silent. No wires or attachments. No wings to propel it. It started moving up my body, about thirty centimeters above me. A red light shone from beneath the machine, light patterns jumped on the cover over my body.

Small blue lights twinkled on and off beneath a large black disk that took up almost one side of the object. It reminded me of the bulbous eye of a spider. Silver lights continuously circled the outside of the disk. Around and around. Black, gleaming, calculating. My reflection was mirrored in the black eye as it slowly moved up the length of my body. I stiffened, instinctively not liking this thing. I didn’t know what it was, what it was doing to me, and I didn’t trust it.

I glanced at the light-filled doorway. No one had appeared. No shadowy figures beyond. All was quiet. Open door. No people. I took this as a sign of fate. Fate owed me. It was time I got something back.

I flexed my arms and legs. There was some strength in them overlaying the damned weakness. Adrenaline kicked into my bloodstream, strengthening my limbs with tingling energy. My mind clicked out a plan of sorts. Get rid of the machine, then get out of here. I would have to use my gift, something I didn’t do, not when they wanted to use me like they did, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I couldn’t miss the opportunity of an open door and the chance at freedom. That had only happened once before when I’d managed to successfully escape. After my return, the security had been impenetrable. I never had another chance. May never get another one like this again.

I focused on the machine, letting the energy syphon into my core. It became bigger and stronger the more I willed the energy to combine with my will. I clenched my teeth, trickles of perspiration covered my skin.

My head pounded. I was weakened, and creating the energy ball was sapping what strength I’d gained, but I kept building it. I centered the thought in my mind, imagined very clearly what I wanted it to do, then directed the energy out at the machine.

The machine flew backward, colliding with the wall. It smashed apart; splintering pieces rained onto the floor. I’d used more force that I’d meant to. I’d only meant to take it down, but I’d obliterated it.

There was no time to waste. I threw the cover aside, looking at legs that were thin and wasted. I gasped. Those couldn’t be mine. My legs were well toned and healthy. They could carry me for kilometers. These looked like they belonged to an invalid. I controlled the hysteria that rolled in my gut. My hand shook as I touched my thigh. I felt my bone through skin that was yellow, pallid, and sick looking. Revulsion rolled through me.

I put my hands to my head and wondered if I still had my long hair. I pulled a strand in front of my eyes. It was a greasy, matted rat-tail and hung in a limp curl, but it was still black. In some small pathetic way, I was still me. I couldn’t waste time on self-indulgent pity. I’d deal with it later.

My legs refused to work; the muscles were stiff and strained uselessly. I shoved them over the edge of the bed and pushed myself to a sitting position. The blood drained from my head, making me momentarily giddy and lightheaded. I took a few deep, shaky breaths, willing my body to equalize as quickly as possible. I stifled the panic as it rose, concentrating on what I had to do.

I slipped to the floor, landing on bare feet. My legs buckled beneath me, unable to respond to the sudden weight of my body. I would need to use my energy again. I’d never had to use it so quickly after being spent. I created an energy ball, scraping up what I could, centering it in my gut. Instead of throwing it out, I sent it back toward myself. My limbs jerked, as though sparking with electricity. My blood tingled, racing around inside me. One foot slid across the floor, then the other. Come on legs, move, damn you. Ignore the fact I just want to curl up into a ball. Just get there. Just fucking do it.

I staggered to the door and leaned heavily on the frame, gasping, lungs bursting. I wiped away drips of perspiration that stung my eyes. I’d made it this far, but it was only across the space of a small room. I’d need to get it together to get out of here. Wherever here really was. Although the doctor had told me I was in a hospital, I really didn’t know for sure. I only had his word, and I didn’t trust that as far as I could throw it.

Amazingly, there was silence. Nobody running toward me to take me down. No sudden stampeding of feet, no yell of surprise. Time was of the essence. I had just destroyed an expensive-looking machine, and surely someone was going to get an alert about it pretty soon.

I peered around the door frame. There was a long, dimly lit corridor that stretched to my right. To my left, was a reception desk, and behind that sat a nurse in dim light. She had her eyes cast downward and was concentrating on something I couldn’t see. There was no one else.

I ducked back behind the door frame, trying to keep my breathing steady. She’d see me before I had a chance to make it halfway down the corridor.

I dredged up what little reserve I had and concentrated the thought-energy in the palm of my hand. My skin tingled and heated. I stepped into the corridor, took aim, and flung the ball of energy at the nurse. Her head jerked sideways, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she fell. I heard her land on the floor and then silence. Hopefully she’d stay unconscious until I could disappear.

My legs were shaking, and I leaned on the wall for balance. One foot in front of the other. My limbs shook, perspiration covered me in a sticky film, but I didn’t stop. Kept going. Kept the body moving. I reached the end of the corridor and bumped into the wall.

There was a shushing sound. I stepped closer, squinting, trying to focus. A doorway recessed into the wall, beyond that a cavity. My blurry eyes hadn’t picked up the detail.

Cautiously I stepped through the doorway. There was the shushing sound behind me as it closed. I was in a box. Trapped. I turned around, fingers prodding the walls, trying to make the door open again. My fingers slid across some bumps, and I stuck my nose close to them. They seemed to be buttons of some sort. I blinked, willing my vision to focus more, and saw that there were sequential numbers from lowest to highest order. I almost sobbed out loud. I was in a lift.

I traced my fingertips over the buttons, pressing them, hoping like hell it was going to take me somewhere safe. Nothing happened. Come on, Katia. Think! Desperation cloaked me as tight as latex skin. “How do I get out of here?”

“State your destination,” a soft feminine voice spoke.

I whizzed around, the breath stolen from my lungs. “Who’s there?”

“State your destination,” the emotionless voice repeated. It didn’t sound human. Some sort of mechanical voice.

I licked my lips. “Ground. Exit. Anywhere but here.”

The lift dropped. My sweating palms slipped on a metal rail. I rubbed them on my thighs. The clothes I wore soaked up the perspiration. A draft of cool air touched my calves. I hadn’t noticed what I was wearing, but it was some sort of hospital gown that came to my knees. I inwardly groaned. Nothing like an escapee still dressed in a hospital gown to stand out in a crowd. I put it from my mind. Unless I could grab some clothes from somewhere, I couldn’t worry about that now.

The lift slowed to a stop and the door shushed open. I slipped into a corner so I couldn’t be seen from the outside. I hadn’t thought what I would do if the doors opened onto people I didn’t want to see. Fuck. That was stupid. I was on edge, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.

I peeped around the door and caught a glimpse of a high-ceilinged reception area. Groups of people walked leisurely across a large, open, brightly lit space. Unrushed. Relaxed. There was something off about them. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I’d been in crowds before, but this one had a characteristic I was unfamiliar with.

Maybe it was their clothing. They wore pants, tops, dresses, but they were of a style I hadn’t seen before. The material was smooth, almost satiny, and unadorned with any frills or sashes, belts or ties. There were no bursts of patterns. No florals, stripes, or even paisley. Their clothes were all solid color. I would have called the fashion plain, if not for the complex cut of jackets and pants, with a multitude of sewn in darts that hugged their bodies.

The hushed hum of peaceful conversation filtered around me. The people that walked in pairs or groups conversed in a friendly manner. They were relaxed. Not like the guards I thought I’d see here.

Some trees potted in large white barrels were placed along the walls here and there, adding splashes of natural color to the austere whites and grays of this huge reception area. White couches were clustered into groups with low coffee tables between them bringing people together, which people sat at, talking to each other.

A large reception desk was set in the middle of the room, all smooth sides and corners. The sides were made from a sleek, white material up to waist height, where several women in matching navy uniforms were behind the desk. They either had their heads down and were working on something I couldn’t see behind the sides, or they greeted the people that approached them. Friendly staff. Something I wasn’t expecting.

My breath became shaky when I saw some of the floating charcoal cubes that I had destroyed in my room hovering behind people’s shoulders as they walked, silent and aware. Their black spider eyes trained on the person in front of them. No one seemed to be bothered by them.

“Ground floor,” the female voice said. “Exit please.”

Shit. I had to get out of here and across the room without bringing attention to myself. I squared my shoulders and willed my legs to work without dropping me to the floor. Despite my appearance, I needed to appear confident in order to pull this off and get out of here.

It took all of my resolve to move from the relative safety of the lift. I moved a slack foot to the cold floor. Barefoot. Shit. I should have registered that, too.

The doors shushed closed behind me. I stood a moment, not really sure where to go. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the reception desk. To my left, were huge floor-to-ceiling windows, dotted with doors that looked a part of the glass wall, darkened by the night beyond. A man and woman approached the wall and swiped the blue panel. One of the doors swung open, letting them exit, and closed as they passed through. They were dressed in navy, like the women behind the desk, but weren’t wearing the same style. A navy cape covered the female’s shoulders matching her skirt, while the man wore fitted pants with a coordinating navy jacket. They wore white, sturdy shoes as though to be comfortable, as they might be on their feet a lot. The woman had a cap on her head with a red cross in the center. Nurses? If Julius was to be believed, nurses would have to be in this “hospital.”

The outside air filtered in as the door shut, and I drew the freshness into my lungs. I wanted to run through a door, push my way into the freedom I could all but taste. But all I did was stand, bound tightly to the ground as though my feet were rooted in the soil. I tried to swallow the bitter taste of terror that froze me, the thought that a hand would land on my shoulder at any time, that someone would push me to the ground and end my chance at living in the world outside.