S.M.A.R.T. (The Subject of Mind Altering Research and Testing)

Chapter Eight

"Hi Jim, I'm Michael. So there's a cook too. This is a just a regular five star hotel isn't it?" He said lowering his stance. Jim laughed. How can people here be so spirited? Michael wondered.

"I know how you feel." Jim said. Michael doubted he did. Jim leaned in towards Michael and started in a quiet voice. "Between you and me," he looked around before continuing "I wish I would have known what I was getting myself into when I was approached for this job. The man said they needed a cook, they all said they needed a cook. I was expecting something a little more nine to five, ya know? Next thing I know I'm being flown around the world to some god forsaken secret warehouse and I'm not allowed to go anywhere until they say so." He looked frustrated. Michael felt his pain.

"Did you come willingly?" Michael asked. Jim was the first person Michael had talked to who seemed to want to share how they had come to be there.

"At first I did. They tricked me into it, though. They told me I would be allowed to go back home if I didn't like it. They offered me a lot of money. That's the only reason I came. Then after I got here and saw what this place is... Well, other people here told me how they got here, and warned me they wouldn't let me leave. I didn't believe them. We have laws and stuff, I thought. You can't just hold a person against their will. I was wrong. I asked to go home after a couple of days, and they told me I couldn't. I fought them, I refused to work, but they put me on lock-down and beat me until I would cooperate. A bunch of us even tried to escape one day. Two got killed before we made it out of our wing, and that's when I decided it wasn't worth dying over. I'm here until fate allows me to leave. One of these days I'll make my way out of here, dead or alive, but I won't be the one breaking down that door and getting my head shot off, or worse. Somebody will find out what they're doing here. Somebody will come help us. They have to."

Michael could see the desperation in his eyes. He pitied him. He pitied himself. He pitied everybody here. They were all alike. They were all prisoners. Most of people in the place, at least. Jim looked like an abused animal, kicked into submission. He didn't bite back anymore, Michael could tell. He was glad to have met him, though. He felt less alone. Maybe one day Jim would be right, the thought. Maybe somebody would come for them. Michael didn't want to think about the what-ifs. He pulled the cart closer. There was a tray on it, and two plates covered in tin foil. Michael opened them and the smell grew stronger in the air. One plate was roasted turkey and mashed potatoes, with a bowl of gravy, and the other was corn and stuffing and salad with dressing. Michael didn't realize how hungry he was until he saw it and smelt it. He grabbed a fork and knife off the tray and dug in.

"It's delicious. At least for my sake they found a good cook..." He swallowed and then looked over at Jim. "I was dragged here against my will too. I'm supposed to be their test subject, but you probably already knew that." he said.

"Yeah, I knew. Not everybody here knows they've found somebody yet, but I found out early since I'm gonna be delivering your meals."

"How old are you, Jim, and how long have you been here?." Michael asked. He wondered how long people had been in this situation, and nobody had known. It made him sick.

"A little over a year now, and I'm twenty seven." Jim said, looking like it wasn't something he liked to recall.

"I'm sorry." Michael said, sincerely.

"Don't be, you didn't drag me here, anyways, it's my fault. The men who offered me the job came into the place I was working at. They liked my food so much, they came back to ask who had cooked it. Stupid as I was, I put my hand up to take the credit. I didn't even cook the soup they ate, it was somebody else that should have been here. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyways, is there anything you're allergic to, or just don't like?" Jim changed the subject. Michael couldn't believe it, they were just taking anybody they wanted. Who are these people?

"No allergies, but I prefer anything fresh, not canned." Michael joked, and Jim let out a forced laugh.

"Well who doesn't? But unfortunately we're a long way from a supermarket. I'll do what I can do keep us stocked." Jim's face gave a little smile back. Michael knew he felt comfortable around him. He was glad for that. At least a couple times a day he might hear the door open and not dread who it might be. He hoped this wasn't some ploy to get him comfortable. He took another bite. The mashed potatoes were dry and bland.

"So, how did they get you here, then?" Jim asked as Michael chewed. He opened up to me. He just wants a friend to talk to. Michael didn't want to talk about it right then, but he figured the man deserved an answer. He had just spilled out his story, and cooked him dinner after all, and it wasn't bad. It wasn't as good as Jane's meals, but the gravy was good, at least.

"It was similar. They gave me an offer, but I tried to refuse it. They cuffed me and dragged me onto a helicopter. Four of them ambushed me in my office. I had never really had a choice. Apparently they had their eyes on me as a good potential subject. They told my wife and daughter that I'm dead... They are probably just getting the news now." Michael answered, regretting that he spoken at all once he had said it. Jim gave him a look that said he understood he didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Sometimes my mouth speaks before my brain thinks." Jim apologized. "That must be horrible. My family just thinks I'm working in another state. I don't have a wife though, just my parents, and my little brother."

Michael looked at him oddly. Everybody here had a life they were dragged away from, too. At least I'm not alone, in that sense.

"Oh right... See, I did it again." Jim thought he was adding insult to injury from the look Michael had.

Michael let out an actual laugh for the first time in a long time. There was something about Jim that he liked. He was hopeful, and he had positive attitude even here. It cheered Michael up, and he thought maybe, as odd as it was, that he might learn something from twenty seven year old Jim. He was glad the person he would being seeing so often was a decent human being too.

"No, it's nothing you need to apologize for. I'm just worried about my family, I didn't mean to take it out on you." Michael relieved him.

"Well that's no problem, it's easy to get edgy around here. Anyways, I've got to get back before they think I made a run for it, I'm lucky they trust me with anything after the stunt I pulled when I got here. Enjoy your meal." Jim said as he wheeled the cart out of the room. Michael watched to see if he knew the password to the door. If he did, maybe he was just a ploy to make Michael think they weren't all horrible. Jim got to the door and looked up to a man through the window. The door opened and Jim left. He didn't touch the password pad, and Michael knew Jim was in the same shaky, sinking ship as he was.