My first thought is that I must have heard him wrong.
The constant beeping of a heartbeat monitor is the only noise heard in the room. My mom, dad, and I stand, watching the baby, eyes watering and hands clasped in hope.
The doctors have been telling us that they don't know whether he'll live. We've taken it as our responsibility to watch him, waiting eagerly for any reason he would live and not die.
Mom's eyes are trained on the machine, eyes flashing with it as it beeps. It's the only way we know that our little baby is still alive and breathing. For now. The doctors aren't sure why he came out with a birth defect, much less what the defect is, but now it's all we can do to hope that he's a fighter and makes it through the day.
Hope. Hope is such a useless thing. At six years old, everything is a blur. A flash of my mom's tears, the slamming of cabinets upstairs when I'm supposed to be in bed, the times when I think I hear my dad cry himself to sleep but convince myself it's only his snores.
Why does hope exist when all it does is fill you with regret for even having hope in the first place?
So I hide my face in my dad's stomach, hands knotted in his t-shirt, tears darkening it. Even after only six years of living, I knew that the little child had no chance of surviving.
We stood there for hours, watching the child sleep. He looked eerily calm, especially for a baby in sleep. His tiny hands clutch at the thin white bed sheet and his squirms a little. Back then, I wish I could tell what was going on inside his head. Maybe then I would have the strength or power to prevent what came afterward.
When the beeping turned long and monotone, I didn't know what to think. I probably should have cried; after all, my would-be baby brother was dead. But instead, all I did was stare, empty.
So while my mom buried her head into dad's neck and cried, I simply stared at the baby's chest, waiting for the breath that would never come.
"What was his name?" I asked later.
"It would have started with a C," my mother responded. Would have. What a frightening pair of words.
There's no way my baby brother could be alive and well.
But the way Jax says it, with wide eyes, I know for a fact that somehow he's not lying.
"What?" I choke out, disbelief obvious. He winces at my harsh tone, but if you've believed that your baby brother—your sibling—has been dead for 11 years, you'd be confused if you found out that blood still rushes through their veins and their heart still beats in time.
"Your brother is still alive. I met him." The shock of the words hits me like a tidal wave. I stagger backward, fingers meeting the cold surface of the wall at the back of the cell. Alix looks ultimately confused, looking from Jax to me and then back to Jax again with narrowed eyes.
The way Jax says I met him leads me to wonder how long he's been here. Has he been mixed up with this for a while? Was our whole relationship a lie? Was he happy to finally break up with me?
But instead, the only words that pass through my lips are, "What is his name?"
Jax inhales sharply, as if a shiver went down his spine. His eyes are anywhere but mine, and they stare directly into a certain corner of the room. He looks nervous. His hands are clasping and unclasping in front of his body. If I were to touch them, they'd probably be clammy with sweat.
"Jax," I whisper, pulling his eyes to me. His eyes outline my face, taking in my disfigured state, my messed up blue/red hair, my wild eyes, my clothes, and Alix subconsciously moving in front of me as if to protect me. "Answer the question. If you really care about me at all, you will tell me right now."
He exhales, pushing his damp, sweaty hair away from his forehead. "His name is Corey."
Corey.
It would have started with a C. Is. Not was. There are no words to describe how badly I've wanted to say those words about my brother.
"Oh my God," I mutter incredulously under my breath. "Where is he? I have to see him."
"You'll see him... soon." Soon isn't soon enough. I open my mouth to say so when Alix interrupts me, holding a hand up to stop the actual sound from spilling out of my mouth.
"What do you want with us?" He asks harshly, blue eyes narrowed into deadly slits. They've darkened to the color of the sea before a storm. It's strangely beautiful.
Jax straightens up, as if finally realizing that that is what he's here for, that this answer is something he actually knows. "You are here on the matter of some very important business. You have been chosen unknowingly to partake in a series of experiments related to the extinction of mankind." The extinction of mankind? Where has Normal Jax gone? Down to the sewer it seems. "You have been forced into several unlikely scenarios and tested on them. You are here because you are needed here, and that is all I can say at this time."
"What do you mean part of a series of experiments? Unlikely scenarios? You sound like a robot." It seems that even in the midst of terror Alix still has his sense of humor. Jax doesn't find it very funny.
"I-I mean that this whole time you've been being tested for reactions and thought processes. Not you, of course. Jess." Alix's fists ball at his sides, and were it not for my reassuring hand on his arm, he might have gone at Jax at that moment. "The harsh conditions, the police, the pressure of everything on your shoulders."
Jax's eyes stare sightless at my hand on Alix's arm, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he's jealous. But that's ridiculous. He swallows deep before muttering, "It's a bit much if you ask me."
That settles it. This is not Jax speaking, it is Jax speaking against his will for someone else. It's obvious in the way he pauses before he says something and why he sounds like a recording from an ad.
"You mean to tell me that everything that I've gone through has been for some sort of experiment of some sort?" I ask, and when Jax's brown eyes meet mine, they're wide like saucers. He can't lie if he tried. He means what he says.
"Everything was a test," I mutter under my breath. My heart beats a little faster than before, mirroring my horror at what I've just heard. "Everything was a test." I turn to Alix, and he meets my eyes with confusion. "If everything was a test, are you one of the questions that I have to answer?"
"N-no, I swear I have no idea what's going on," Alix stutters out. I relax slightly. He's the one constant in all of this, and though it may be rash to believe he's still telling the truth, I can't help it.
"What are you doing here, Jax?" My voice is deathly calm and steadier than I imagined it would be.
"I-." He starts, his voice uncertain.
"He's here to fulfill a very important task." A voice comes from behind Jax and he stiffens immediately. The voice is deep and rough, causing intimidation before sight. When Jax steps to the side, the intruder is revealed, and if his voice isn't enough to scare the crap out of someone, his physical appearance is.
He's tall, like really tall, with short cropped brown hair and the blackest eyes known to mankind. He smiles at Alix and I, and I can practically feel the deathly nature of this man just from his expression.
"My name is Darrin Hardy, and welcome to headquarters."
~
"You're the...what now?" My brain is a muffled collection of random words and sentence fragments that I can't piece together even if I was to sit down and ponder it for a while.
"I'm the leader, the father if you will, of H20," Darrin says.
"H20..." Alix cuts in, "is that the name of the organization?"
"It is."
"Why H20?"
"Because H20 represents water, which is one of the many elements that keeps us alive."
"Which means...?" Alix is starting to sound impatient.
Darrin laughs, but there is no feeling to it. "Ah, my dear boy, you will find out, won't you?"
"That's never a good answer," Alix mutters so that the only reason I hear him is because I'm near him. In any other situation, I may have laughed. But it's getting harder to find those situations.
"Jax said my brother is still alive. Where is he? I need to see him." I cut in harshly, my tone set.
"All in time, my dear. All in time. For now, though, that is all the questions I'm afraid I will allow you to ask. In the meanwhile, I will have a few of my assistants lead you out of this cell into your operating rooms for your third and final test."
Operating rooms? Third and final test? I swear, if this is all a joke...
"Wait, what? You're not taking her anywhere." Alix argues. I can sense the non-trust in the way he says it, and I can't help but feel like a damsel in distress.
"You heard me." Darrin's voice is harsh and cold and it takes Alix by surprise, because I can see his muscles tense under his shirt. I wish I could wrap my arms around him to tell him it will be all right, that Jax is nothing to me, that this is all a dream.
But of course, it's not.
Suddenly a very vice-like grip makes its way around my arm and I squirm, unwilling to let anther person take me someplace I don't recognize. The grip tightens but still I fight. I can see the face of the person holding me down. A man, a few years older than me, with a blank stare, disheveled blonde hair and light eyes. I gasp audibly.
It's Austin, the guy I danced with at the nightclub. But how can he be here? He told me where to go in the first place. This makes me even more angry than before, and I slam my foot onto his, feeling relief when it makes contact.
Austin hisses through his teeth in pain and his grip loosens momentarily. But before I have time to pull away, his hand is already clamped around mine again, his fingernails digging into my flesh. Fast reflexes. Is that a result of whatever is making these people subject to follow orders?
Is it what's making them robot-like?
Austin moves to pull me out the door, and I can see that Alix has been heading along the same road I have. He struggles against his captor, but while Alix is slick, he's not much when he has the disadvantage. Plus, his captor is bigger than he is, and can no doubt subdue Alix fairly easily with a few well-aimed punches.
"Alix!" I yell, struggling against.
I shouldn't have said anything.
He turns, distracted, blue eyes wide in the midst of terror right as the other man's fist connects with his face. He groans out in pain, slumping to the ground and admitting defeat.
Just. Like. That.
"ALIX!" I scream as he falls to the floor, clutching his nose. Beneath his hands, a glimpse of a dark red blossoms to the surface. It's blood. They can hurt me, but they aren't allowed to mess with Alix.
I can feel myself fighting harder and harder against Austin's tight grip, but I'm not getting anywhere, and I can feel my energy and luck slipping from my grasp as Austin pulls me out of the room and into the hallway, where Alix is no longer in sight.
I can't see Alix. Panic bubbles up in the pit of my stomach. I remember what Darrin said.
In the meanwhile, I will have a few of my assistants lead you out of this cell into your operating rooms for your third and final test.
Will I see him ever again? I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. To say I'm sorry for everything I dragged him into. It is what he wanted though, isn't it? He would've left long ago if this was too much for him.
The hallway is a bright white, such stark contrast from the cell. Everything smells like bleach and it reminds me of a hospital someplace foreign.
I hate it.
"Stop struggling," Austin hisses at me.
"I would if you would let me go." I retort.
"And why exactly would I do that?"
"Because inside you know this is wrong and that you have no idea what you're doing." I search his eyes for any sort of normalcy, but all I see is my reflection.
"Shut up and walk," he cuts in angrily, shoving me and looking away immediately. I hit a nerve. Can I do that to hundreds of people under the same spell?
The hallway forks off into the three directions, and I'm pulled harshly into the left hallway. The doors are plain, but made of metal rather than regular wood. I'm dragged farther and farther, past door after door. Farther and farther away from Alix and everything I thought I knew.
Something clicks and a door opens to my right. The door opens only a crack, but I can see inside long enough to detect a body on a cot. Alive or dead, it's impossible to tell. A shiver runs down my spine and I stiffen against Austin's grip.
We walk for a few more minutes before coming across the room I assume I will be operated on in. The door slides open and my fingers press against the small piece of jewelry that I've been holding onto this whole time for luck. My grandfather's locket. My heart pounds away in my chest, marking time. I focus on it, on every breath of air I inhale, on the sound of my heels tapping the marble floors, on the times I can repeat Alix's name in my head.
On the amount of time I have left to live.
END OF BOOK ONE