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  Lydia sat forward in her chair and summarized, “So, what you’re telling me is…Clara has powers? As in super-human powers?”

  “Yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to say! Haven’t you noticed any strange occurrences? Coincidences? Abilities? Has anything out of the ordinary taken place since you began working with her? Think, Lyd, think!” Ollie’s bushy brows bounced above his clear blue eyes as he spoke, animating his face and illustrating both excitement and deep hope.

  Lydia sank back into the sagging cushions of the shabby cabin couch. She closed her eyes and wove her fingers together, resting them heavily on the crown of her head. She forced out an audible sigh while Ollie, still grinning in expectation watched her every move, which was now just mostly rhythmic breathing. “So. Strange occurrences, huh? Coincidences?”

  “Yes, Lyd. Have you noticed anything? Anything at all? You have to have noticed something.” Ollie was almost begging.

  “Oh, God, Ollie…” Lydia groaned. “Just…”

  Ollie’s bright eyes darkened slightly. After all Lydia and Clara had been though, after all they had all been through, he was certain she’d believe him this time. Believe this one. How could she not? People were lying to them. People were chasing them. People were shooting at them with guns. Instead of anger, Ollie felt heartache. It was not in him to be resentful, but he was hurt. Had he not proved himself? “Lydia, can’t you see—”

  “Ollie, just give me a minute! I’m trying to think!” Lydia sank deeper into the musty couch. Her mind was racing, but there was no sign of this activity on the exterior. Her head was tilted back and her hands were still resting on top of her brown hair as she continued to breathe methodically. Ollie maintained his stare, studying his friend, still upset that once again, no one believed him.

  Finally, moving nothing but her mouth, Lydia began to speak: “So, you’re telling me that any coincidences we may have experienced are in fact not coincidences? They were purposely done? Clara made them happen?”

  “Yes.” Ollie answered, hiding the dejection he felt.

  Lydia began to laugh.

  Embarrassed, Ollie tried again, “Lyd, you have to believe me. This isn’t some hare-brained, half-witted conspiracy theory. I admit, I’ve had my share of those too, but this one…this is the real deal, Lydia!”

  Lydia’s laughing subsided and she raised her head as she opened her eyes, “Ollie, oh my God, Ollie! I’m not laughing at you. I believe you! It all makes sense now! All of it! Knowing to head west, finding my spare key, and even the gun going off when we first escaped my office building. It was all her! It was all her, right Ollie? I mean that’s the only way to explain it all. She even knew the garage attendant was one of them!”

  “Yes, Lydia! Yes! She’s special. Not just special, an Elite.”

  “I know…you keep saying that, but what does it mean?”

  “Same as the definition of the word, she’s a select part of a group who is superior to the rest in terms of ability.” Ollie explained.

  “Yeah, I get that. These abilities do make her superior. I can’t do any of those things. You can’t do any of those things.”

  “No, Lydia, you don’t understand. You’re not hearing me. Clara is not just superior to you and me. She’s superior to others like her. She manifested earlier. She manifested more. She’s manifesting faster.”

  “Ollie, how do you know all of this? You’ve only just met her.”

  “First, I need you to tell me all about when you first met her. Start at the beginning. What have you noticed that’s different about Clara.”

  “Well, for one, she just knows things. When we were running from my office, she knew the garage attendant was one of them. When we arrived at my car, she knew I had a spare key under my rear wheel well—I didn’t even know that was there, and when we were on the road, she instinctively knew to drive west. She even answered which direction to go as if I had asked out loud.”

  “Okay, what else?” Ollie insisted.

  “She was able to convince me to pull over on the side of the interstate not long after we escaped. She was also able to persuade an employee at a gas station in Iowa to not turn us in. He had seen us on the news, but she convinced assured him that we were not who they were looking for. It was beyond belief.”

  “Oh my God, and the gun. When we were leaving the office, we had both been apprehended in the lobby. We were defenseless; there was no way out. She was trying to let me know that her captor had a gun. She mimicked pulling a trigger to alert me and when she did, the gun belonging to the man holding Clara shot straight through his leg. That’s how we were able to get away.” Lydia was breathless, astonished by what she was—with the help of Ollie—finally realizing about Clara.

  “Alright, Lydia. So, that means that so far, we know that Clara has manifested at least three abilities in addition to her super-immunity. She has the capability of mind control, she’s seemingly clairvoyant according to your observations, and she exhibits clear telekinetic potential.” Ollie frantically scratched notes into a tiny notebook with an overly-chewed pencil. Lydia wondered how many of Ollie’s other hare-brained ideas that she had dismissed over the years actually had some credibility. How many times had she shut down her friend who may have been onto something big, something like this? All those years. All those theories.

  “Can you think of anything else, Lydia?” Ollie inquired as he looked up from his notes.

  “Not right now. Nothing springs to mind. Right now I’m all questions and no answers.” She thought for a moment. “Wait! When we crashed. She was thrown from the car—unhurt. Then, I’m sure I had a broken ankle. Almost sure. But when Clara helped me out of the car, it started to feel better. And later, when she touched me again, the pain disappeared. Could that be something?” She asked.

  “Yes!”Ollie exclaimed.

  “And she knew how to get us here.”

  “Good girl. Good, good girl.”

  “What does Jamil have to do with all of this? How did he know about Clara? Why did he rescue her?”

  “He’s like her. Well, not exactly. He was born this way. She was genetically engineered by BioTech. And there are others, Lyd. A lot of them. And they’re not good kids like Jamil and Clara. They’re genetically altered killing machines.”

  When Ollie had explained everything he knew, Lydia sat forward and rested her forehead in her hands.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, Lyd. That’s why we want to ease Clara into it.”

  “Not to mention, the first thing she’s going to want to do in the morning is search for her parents.”

  “That’s not a good idea. If they’re even alive, they will be heavily surveilled. Jamil and I have been searching for weeks, but with no luck.”

  “Does she know what she is?”

  “Not entirely. We’ll need to sit her down for a chat in the morning. Tonight she needs to rest. We all do.”

  “Then what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  “Jamil’s got that covered, Lydia, dear. He’s the expert when it comes to being super-human.” Ollie chuckled and suggested they get some shut eye too.

  “Tomorrow’s a new day,” Ollie said.

  “And it’s going to be a long one. Goodnight, Ollie. And thank you.” She kissed her sweet friend on his rosy cheek and joined Clara in the bedroom. Ollie lay down on the couch, pulled a blanket over himself, and was snoring momentarily.

  Chapter Twenty-One—Back at Breemont

  “You idiot!” Kay Crider boomed over the phone as she slammed her free fist on her steering wheel. “How could you have let this happen?”

  Rob Schneideker attempted to do damage control on the other end of the line. “Listen, Kay, it happened. It’s done. We need to find them.”

  “We shouldn’t have to find them, you incompetent asshole!” She screamed. “They should be in Lindenhurtz’s office right now talking about “feelings” and “life goals”. What the hell were you doing when they were running out of there?”
/>   “I was in a meeting. We had plenty of people watching them. They maneuvered past them all. I’m putting together a team to track them.”

  “Nope. Already on it,” Kay responded. “Your guys have their heads in their asses.”

  “I’m sending my guys too.”

  “Fine, just don’t screw it up.”

  “What the hell is the purpose of all of this anyway? Why even put the girl in therapy? Why not just grab her, lock her up, and make her do tricks?”

  Kay was furious. “Don’t you think we’ve tried that? Obviously, it didn’t work. Trained monkeys don’t always perform. It’s best to see them in their natural habitats, or at least as close to a natural habitat as you can get. That’s what we tried to create with the psychotic break scenario. We’ve been cultivating this one for years. She’s the best prospect we have so far, and BioTech didn’t want to screw this one up. Looks like we didn’t have to. You’ve managed to do it for us with that little twit you hired.”

  “She wasn’t a twit, she was the best candidate. You agreed, or have you forgotten that, Kay?”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” she replied, still angry. “The point of staging a break from reality and a psychiatrist was threefold. First, we needed to provide adequate love and support. Some of our first…experiments…that were raised in the lab or with surrogates, did not get the security of a safe and loving environment. Some self-destructed. Others became outwardly destructive and insubordinate. Most were terminated when they began to exhibit signs of this. By providing a loving environment this time, we were able to cultivate affection, empathy, love, and other attributes that the previous subjects were void of.”

  “Secondly, we were able to monitor progress and get answers to questions that we wouldn’t normally have gotten the answers to. Questions that would seem out of place if a parent or a regular physician asked. Questions that would make the subject wary. By staging a psychotic break, which conveniently has many of the same qualities as the trial we are conducting, we were able to monitor her progress and make her look like an average member of society all the while., qualities that would be called exceptional abilities in our subject, but would be called symptoms when referring to a true psychotic break. Everything was going perfectly until your incapable employee went and lost her.”

  “Technically, she didn’t lose her if she is with her.” Schneideker interjected.

  “Don’t be a smartass, Rob, it’s not becoming.” Kay scolded.

  “Lindenhurtz was able to track these abilities, thoughts, and actions while we sat back and enjoyed the ride.”

  “And the third?” Rob questioned.

  “We didn’t have to pay a dime in their upbringing! It’s perfect. We watch from afar. We let someone else feed them and clothe them. We’re literally saving millions!”

  “Genius!” Rob exclaimed. “So you let other “parents” rear them, pay for them, care for them, and then you harvest the goods?”

  “That’s exactly what we do. Then we break their spirits and train them.”

  “You’re a wicked, wicked woman, Kay Crider. The wickedest.” Rob said, meaning it as a compliment. It was taken as one.

  “Damn straight, I am. And don’t you dare forget it! Now get your ass out there and find those two! It’d be in your best interest to find them before I do.”

  “We’re reviewing all the footage taken at Breemont. If there’s a clue there, my guys will find it.” Rob offered. “And we’ve got the place locked down tight, now.”

  “It’s a shame you couldn’t have done your job before this mess.”

  Kay made an illegal U-Turn and raced back to her office at BioTech. If Rob was going to “handle” things at Breemont, she was sure as hell going to make sure all her bases were covered at BioTech.

  Kay dialed the phone. “Get Clara Marcel’s “parents” in my office right now. They’d better be waiting for me when I get there.” She didn’t wait for a reply before she hung up and threw her cell in the seat next to her.

  She sped into the parking garage and parked. She hurried into the building and directly into the elevator. As she stepped out and rounded the corner to her office, she nearly ran into the Mark and Melanie, or Collin and Darla to be exact.

  “My office, now!” Kay ordered. “Sit!” Collin and Darla did as their boss ordered.

  “How did you let this happen?” Kay demanded. “How could you let this one slip away! We had her. We had her right here, and now she’s gone.”

  “Ms. Crider, let us explain,” Collin began, but was cut short by Kay who had really been asking a rhetorical question.

  “Were there any signs? Did you see anything?”

  This time, Kay let him speak: “She was agitated the last few days. Lindenhurtz said she had regressed—that she no longer “remembered” us. But everything seemed fine this morning.”

  “Where are they going?”

  Collin and Darla exchanged nervous glances. “We don’t know Ms. Cri—”

  What the hell do you mean, you don’t know. She’s supposed to be your “child”, and you don’t know where she is? That’s your only damn job: keep tabs on Clara.”

  “We didn’t see this coming. She had progressed so far. We thought she was acclimating. We were going to suggest we turn her over to you soon.”

  “Well, too bad you didn’t. If you had, maybe she’d still be in our possession. Think. Is there any place she may have mentioned? Any people? Anything at all.”

  The pair looked at one another again. They shook their heads.

  “Very well.”

  Kay strode across the room and opened the door with a leisurely touch. She leaned out just far enough to whisper, “Get rid of them,” to the man standing sentry. She turned around, holding the door. “Seamus will show you out.” She smiled.

  For the next three days, a team of Biotech’s best scanned, scoured, and searched. Kay had turned up nothing either, which only infuriated her more. On the third day, Kay had had enough. She entered the room in which the latest meeting of the minds was being held and slammed her hands down on the table. “Where. The hell. Is she?” Kay screamed in the face of the man sitting directly across the table from where she stood, hunched over and heaving angrily like a wild animal.

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Like hell you are.” Her voice was an angry howl.

  “Ma’am we’re exhausting all options, covering every avenue—”

  “Listen to me, and listen well, Mr., Mr….what the hell’s your name again?”

  “Cromwell. Jake Cromwell.”

  When he answered, Kay’s anger faded and was quickly replaced with triumph. She left the room as quickly as she had entered, leaving her colleagues dumbfounded.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After breakfast the following morning, Jamil invited Clara outside.

  The leaves crunched under their feet as they walked and talked. “Clara, we need to talk about something, but I need you to not freak out. It’s huge.”

  Clara stared at him. “Huge? Like, huger than I’m not really crazy and I’ve been kidnapped from my parents and institutionalized? Huger than that?”

  Jamil was silent for a time. “Well…” He trailed off.

  “What is it? It can’t be any stranger than what I’ve already been dealing with!”

  Jamil half-smiled. He even looked down and chuckled to himself.

  “What’s so funny?” She punched him playfully in the arm as they continued to walk along.

  “Catch!” Jamil tossed an acorn he had been carrying in her direction. She reached out without hesitation and scooped it out of the air.

  “See?”

  “See what?”

  “Nevermind. Hey. Wanna race to the lake?”

  “Not really.” Of course I don’t want to get all sweaty and nasty in front of you. You’re adorable, she thought.

  “Too bad. Catch me if you can!”

  Jamil bolted away so quickly that a few leaves were still settling
as he all but faded out of sight. Clara shrugged her shoulders and ran after him. He was still about to disappear through the trees, so she told her legs to kick it up a notch or two. Soon she was gaining on him. She leapt over downed logs and thorny bushes, and eventually was on his tail.

  “You’ve almost got me!” He teased and sped up.

  “Slow down, Jamil!”

  “Aww you can do it, slow-poke!”

  Just as quickly as Clara had begun to lose ground, she gained it, pulling ahead and to her surprise, she reached the lake first. The surprise wasn’t so much that she had actually won, but rather at the fact that they had made it there so quickly. Never in all her years at Lake Cromwell had she been able to make the trip from the cabin to the lake in so quickly. Mark, Melanie, and Clara would hike the 1.5 miles to the lakeshore almost daily, and it took them roughly thirty minutes, carrying towels and a small cooler full of sandwiches and water, of course waiting for little Clara’s legs to catch up. Today, with Jamil, it had to have taken less than five minutes.

  Barely out of breath, she asked, “How did we do that? How did we get here so fast?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Have you noticed being able to do things you didn’t think possible? Jumping higher? Healing faster? Anything?”

  “No. Well, the running thing I suppose. Let me guess. You’re going to tell me I’m some kind of super-human built in a lab like the six-million-dollar man or something.” She laughed at her joke. Jamil did not.

  “Let me see your hand.”

  She gave him a strange look but offered it to him anyway. When she held it out toward him, he pulled out a pocket knife and opened the blade.

  “Ouch!” She cried—more at the sight of the blood—not the almost non-existent pain. She Snatched her hand away. “What do you think you’re do—”

  “Clara. Look.” Jamil used his own hands to hold Clara’s injured hand up to her face. The wound was closing before her very eyes.

  “But, what? How?” She trailed off.

  “Clara, you are superhuman.”

  Clara’s face remained the picture of astonishment throughout the next hour as Jamil explained everything. Almost everything. When he had answered all the questions she could think of (they were both sure there would be plenty more where those came from), he pulled his pocket knife back out.