Rebirth (The Praegressus Project Book 1) Read online

Chris watched a flicker of discomfort cross the faces of a boy and girl in the opposite group, and guessed they were the ones the man was addressing. Richard sported short blond hair and angry green eyes that did not waver from Ashley and Sam. He was almost a foot shorter than Sam, but more than matched the larger boy for muscle. He kept his arms crossed tight, his stocky shoulders hunched, and a scowl fixed on his face.

  The girl, who he guessed was Jasmine, stood head to head beside Richard, a matching glare twisting her red lips. Her hair floated in the breeze, the black locks brushing across her face. The skin around her brown eyes pinched as she turned towards Chris, and caught him staring. Air had hissed between her teeth as she raised one jet-black eyebrow.

  Chris quickly looked away, his heart beginning to race. Between them, the doctor had turned his attention on them.

  “Elizabeth and Christopher, today we will test your fitness and athleticism, to assess your suitability for the next stage of the program. William and Joshua will be joining you. I suggest you get acquainted.”

  Chris’s eyes drifted over to the other boys, and found them staring back. Their eyes did not hold the same animosity as Jasmine and Richard, just a wary distrust. The one on the left was a scrawny stickman of a figure, his long arms and legs little more than bone. Sharp cheekbones stood out on his face, and his jade-green eyes held more than a hint of fear. The other was larger, his arms well-muscled, but he did not match Richard or Sam for sheer bulk. He stood several inches above Chris’s five-foot-eleven, and had long blond hair that hung down around his shoulders.

  Seeing neither of the two were about to introduce themselves, Chris made to step towards them. Sam’s hand flashed out, catching him by the shoulder. Chris glanced at the larger boy, raising an eyebrow in question, but Sam only shook his head. Settling back in line, Chris glanced at Liz and saw his own confusion reflected in her eyes. Ashley’s hand clenched around her wrist, holding her back.

  The doctor glanced between the two groups, and with a shrug, pressed on. “Very well,” he cleared his throat, “All of you, line up,” he paused as the eight of them moved hesitantly to stand in one line, and then nodded. “Today–”

  The doctor broke off, his brow creasing as the buzzer by the entrance sounded again. As one, the group turned towards the door. Chris shuddered as he glimpsed the face of the newcomer. Unconsciously he took a step back. A shiver ran through him, raising goose bumps down his arms and neck.

  10

  Chris shivered as Doctor Halt strode towards them, his eyes surveying the group as he approached. His arms swung casually at his sides, as though this were no more than a casual Sunday stroll for him. A smile played across his thin lips. He drew to a stop alongside the doctor that had been addressing them.

  “Doctor Radly,” his voice was like honey. “How goes training day?”

  “Good,” Radly spoke with hesitation. He was obviously surprised to see Halt. “How can I help you, sir?”

  A soft laughter whispered from Halt’s lips. “I thought I might assist,” his eyes slid across the group of prisoners. “We need to advance our schedule – the directors are demanding results.”

  Radly bit his lips, eying them uncertainly. “We have four candidates ready in this unit. We still need time to assess the remaining four. Most of the other units are the same.”

  Shaking his head, Halt strode down the line, his eyes sweeping over each of them in turn. As Halt passed him, Chris risked a glance at the others. Sam and Ashley stared straight ahead, steadfastly ignoring the presence of Richard and Jasmine beside them. A hint of perspiration shimmered from Sam’s brow, but otherwise the two of them seemed untouched by the run. On his other side, Liz stood with arms folded, while beyond the two newcomers wore uncertain frowns on their faces.

  The crunch of gravel warned Chris of Halt’s return, and he quickly turned to face straight ahead again. The man’s eyes stared hard at Chris as he passed, and then moved on to Liz. The thud of his boots continued down the line as he went on to examine Joshua and William, before returning.

  Scowling, Halt stood beside Doctor Radly. Raising an arm, he pointed at Liz, then to the lanky boy from the other group. “Those two,” he scowled. “Pitiful creatures if ever I saw them. They won’t last long.”

  Radly opened his mouth, then closed it. Glancing at his e-tablet, he shook his head and looked back at Halt. “Sir, we have a framework in place…” he trailed off as Halt stared at him.

  Silence fell across the group of doctors. Chris glanced sideways at Liz, his heart beating hard against his chest. The girl stood staring straight ahead, her brow creased, fists clenched at her side. Though she did not move an inch, Chris could sense the tension building in her tiny frame, like a cat preparing to spring.

  “Well, let’s see,” Halt’s voice came again. A second later he strode past and stopped in front of Liz. “Elizabeth Flores,” he looked her up and down. “How good to see you again.”

  Liz didn’t move, just stood staring straight ahead. Nodding, Halt moved onto his next victim. “William Beth, a sorry looking excuse for a man, if ever I saw one.”

  A tremor went through the boy as he stepped back and raised his arms. “Please, sir, please, I’ll do whatever you say.”

  Halt took another step forward, and the boy stumbled backwards. His feet slipped in the dust and he crashed to the ground. Towering over him, Halt sneered. “Pathetic,” he spat. “Get up.”

  William nodded. He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with terror. “Please–”

  His plea was cut off as Halt’s hand flashed out and caught him by the throat. Without apparent effort, the doctor hoisted the boy into the air. William gave a half-choked scream, his face darkening. His hands batted at Halt’s arm, his legs kicking feebly in the air, but Halt did not waver. His cold grey eyes watched as the boy’s struggles slowly grew weaker.

  Chris watched in horror, his mouth open in a silent scream. A voice in his head screamed for him to help, but as he shifted an iron hand shot out and caught him by the wrist. He glanced back, opening his mouth to argue, but looking at Sam’s face, the words died on his tongue. There was a cold despair in Sam’s brown eyes, a haggard look to his face. Slowly, he shook his head.

  Turning back, Chris watched as Halt tossed William to the ground. A low groan came from the boy as he struck, his legs collapsing beneath him. Dust billowed out around him. Gasping for breath, he struggled to his hands and knees and tried to crawl away.

  Halt followed him at a casual stroll. Without taking his eyes from the boy, he began to speak. “You are all here at my pleasure. But I have no use for the weak,” apparently losing patience with his victim, he lifted a foot and drove his boot into the small of his back. William collapsed face first into the ground.

  Lifting his boot, Halt stared down at the boy. “Get up.”

  Arms shaking, William managed to lift himself to his hands and knees. His beet-red face looked up at Halt, eyes watering. He swayed where he crouched and a tremor went through him, but he made no move to stand.

  Shaking his head, Halt growled. “Wretched specimen. Well, if you’re too lazy to stand, I will give you one last chance to prove your merit. How many pushups can you do?”

  A confused look came over the boy’s face. “Push… pushups?”

  “Yes.” Halt took a step closer, his face darkening.

  William shook his head. “I… I don’t know…”

  Halt sucked in a breath. He turned to face the other doctors. “He doesn’t know.” He gave a soft laugh and turned back to the boy. “Well, shall we find out then?”

  He stared down at the boy, waiting for a reply, but William had gone quiet. The eyes of every doctor and prisoner were on him. Chris held his breath, sensing the trap in Halt’s tone, but not knowing how it would be sprung.

  “Well, get to it then,” Halt snapped. He looked up at the doctor hovering nearby. “Radly, you can call the count for us.”

  At Halt’s feet, a sharp sob came from William. Slowly, he
lowered his hands to the ground and spread his legs. As Radly shouted out the count, William lowered himself to within an inch of the ground and then straightened his arms again.

  Chris and the others watched on, faces grim, as Radly continued to count. Beside him, Liz’s expression was unreadable, though there was a slight sheen to her eyes, hinting at tears.

  As Radly reached fifteen, William’s arms began to tremble. His breath came in ragged gasps and his face flushed red. A shudder ran through his bony body, and with a sob he collapsed to the ground. A triumphant grin spread across Halt’s face as he folded his arms.

  “Sixteen,” Radly repeated the call.

  “Please,” William coughed, lying with limbs splayed across the ground, “please, please I can’t!”

  “Keep going,” Halt snarled.

  He tried, Chris had to give him that. Veins popping in his forehead, teeth clenched, arms shaking with the effort, the boy managed half a pushup before he collapsed back to the ground. This time he didn’t bother to beg, just lay staring up at Halt, a haunted look in his eyes.

  Shaking his head, Halt looked across at them. “In case you were wondering, this is what ‘weak’ looks like.” Cold eyes still watching them, Halt reached down and tapped the sleek black glass of his watch.

  Chris flinched as an awful scream came from the ground. He stumbled backwards, turning to face the source, raising his fists to defend himself. But there was no threat – just William, thrashing on the ground, his half-gasped screams clawing their way up from his throat. Eyes wide and staring, William’s head slammed back against the ground. His fingers bent into claws, scrambling at the steel collar around his neck, even as another convulsion tore through him.

  Panic gripped Chris and he stepped towards the boy. Sam’s iron grasp stopped him again, pulling him back. Chris swore, struggling to break free, unable to stand by and watch the torture any longer. He looked at Sam, fighting to break free, but Sam only stared passed him, eyes never leaving the convulsing boy. Behind him, Ashley stood as still as a statue, her eyes fixed on William, her face expressionless. Her scarlet hair blew across her face, but she did not so much as raise a hand to brush it away.

  The fight went from Chris in a rush. Shuddering with horror, he turned back.

  “Such a shame, to see our people come to this,” Halt’s words slithered through the air, filled with contempt. “Once upon a time we were proud, strong. Our forefathers marched to war with joy in their hearts and sent the cowards of the United States scurrying. Even then they did not stop. They followed the enemy back to their holes, and left a smoking crater in the heart of their so-called democracy.”

  Chris gritted his teeth. Beside Halt, William’s struggles were weakening, his eyes closing as the veins on his neck stood taught. Agony swept across his features, contorting his face into a twisted scowl.

  Still Halt spoke. “How your ancestors would turn in their graves to know of your treachery, of your betrayal of the nation they fought to create.”

  Forcing his eyes closed, Chris sucked in a breath. The hand on his shoulder gave a gentle squeeze, but otherwise Sam stayed silent. Through the strangled screams, Halt’s words twisted their way through Chris’s ears. The wrinkled, smiling face of his grandmother drifted through his mind, telling of how her husband had fought and died in the American war. In 2020, a conglomerate of Washington, Oregon and California had unilaterally ceded from the United States. Arizona and New Mexico had quickly joined them, as support poured in from Canada and Mexico.

  For a few years, a tense peace had hovered between the newly formed Western Allied States and the USA. However, talks had quickly descended to threats, as the USA demanded their return to the union. Within a few years, war was declared, and chaos had engulfed North America. A decade of conflict followed, leaving thousands dead on both sides.

  Then, as the war was coming to a head, the Western Allied States had made one last, desperate gamble. In one decisive strike, Washington was left in ruins, the leadership of the United States demolished in a single blow. The remnants of the union quickly crumbled then, leaving a scattering of independent states who either signed for peace, or were overrun.

  Many scholars argued the values and beliefs of both nations had been lost the day Washington fell. The Western Allied States had been left tainted, their ideals corrupted by that one act of evil. Watching Halt torture the helpless boy, Chris could not help but agree.

  “Perhaps some of you may prove worthy, may one day live up to the memories of your ancestors.” Halt’s eyes flashed as he watched them.

  Biting back a scream, Chris tensed his fists. More than anything he wanted to wipe the smirk from the doctor’s face. Only Sam’s firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

  Halt stared down at the boy, arms folded. The light on William’s collar still flashed red, though his twitching had slowed to little jerks of his arms and legs. He let out a long sigh. “I will give the boy this, he does not die easily,” he reached for his watch.

  “Halt,” Halt froze as a woman’s voice carried across the dirt.

  The group turned as one, staring as Doctor Fallow strode through the entrance. Chris blinked. So engrossed had he been in William and Halt, he had not heard the buzz of her entrance. Now, as she marched across the dusty ground, Fallow tapped at the watch on her wrist. Beside Halt, William’s convulsions came to a sudden stop.

  For a moment, Chris thought the boy had finally succumbed to the collar. Then a low groan came from his twisted body, and Chris let out a sigh of relief. He looked across as Fallow drew to a stop in front of Halt, her eyes flashing with anger.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Fallow growled.

  11

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Angela Fallow growled, her heart pounding as Halt turned to face her.

  “My job.” Halt’s eyes flashed, and Angela took an involuntary step backwards.

  Shaking her head at her weakness, Angela drew herself up. “Your job is to oversee this facility, Halt. Mine is to ensure we have the candidates needed for the project.” Her eyes flickered to the boy lying at Halt’s feet, and her stomach swirled.

  The boy lay unconscious on the ground, an angry red spreading around his throat like a rash. He gave the odd twitch as his muscles spasmed, but otherwise he was still, the only sign of life the dull rattling of his breath. It looked like she had arrived just in time. One of the doctors had alerted her to Halt’s interference with his tablet, but she had been on the other side of the facility.

  Halt took a step towards her, his fists clenched. “Need I remind you, Fallow, you answer to me.”

  This time Angela did not back down. She lifted her head, facing the taller doctor. “Not in this, Halt. The Praegressus project is mine to oversee. Its framework was designed by all of us; we all agreed to follow it while vetting the candidates,” she twisted her lips. “However distasteful some of us may consider the methods.”

  Taking another step, Halt towered over her. His eyes burned with rage, and for a long moment, he did not speak. She stared him down, unwilling to break, to give in. Halt had gone too far, stepped a mile past the lines of human decency here. Whoever their prisoners were, they did not deserve to be treated like this.

  The breath went from Halt in a sudden rush. Nodding he waved a hand and turned away. “Very well, Fallow,” he said the words lightly, but she did not miss the warning beneath them. He turned towards the watching doctors. “We shall do things your way. But we cannot wait. I want the new round of trials started tomorrow. The final batch of candidates will be needed by the week’s end.”

  Swallowing, Angela glanced at her co-workers. They hovered in a group, a mixture of fear and disdain in their eyes. She knew some would support her, eager to do things by the book. But others she was not so sure on. They were more willing to take risks, to press on without concern for the candidates brought to the facility. Or they were just plain terrified of Halt.

  In truth, she co
uld not blame them. While she had once regarded the man with respect, since his elevation to head doctor, he had revealed a darker side. Doctors who crossed him were terminated without cause, safety procedures had been cut, and with the subjects, there were no limits to his cruelty.

  She eyed him now, silently calculating the population of subjects still to be vetted. There were two hundred prisoners in the facility, with roughly half of them still needing to confront the parameters of the framework. That left a hundred candidates to vet – of which fifty would hopefully survive to begin the experiment.

  And that wasn’t even accounting for the final touches she needed to make on the formula.

  “A weeks not enough time,” she said.

  Halt shrugged. “I’m sorry, Fallow. That’s out of my hands. The directors want results. The people are growing restless, they need answers, and if the government doesn’t provide them…” he trailed off.

  Angela sucked in a breath, her eyes travelling over the group of prisoners in their orange jumpsuits. She shivered as she met the boy’s eyes. Christopher stared back at her, eyes wide, the unspoken question written across his face.

  She quickly looked away, hearing again the screams of the boy’s mother. Biting her lip, she faced Halt. “We’ll have to skip the resting period. It may result in sub-optimal outcomes.”

  Halt waved a hand. He was already moving towards the doorway, leaving his tortured victim lying face down in the dust. “You will find a solution, Fallow,” their eyes met, “I know you will.”

  Angela’s breath caught in her throat, but she held his gaze until he turned away. She shuddered as he disappeared through the iron doors, the resistance falling from her like water. A half-muffled groan squeaked slipped from her lips, but she bit it back and turned towards the gathered doctors.

  They stared back at her, awaiting instruction.

  Angela straightened. “Okay, you heard Halt. We need to get these candidates classified. You know the drill.” She clapped her hands and smiled as the other doctors broke from their silent reverie.