Chapter 12: Kiss me or Kill me

ELARA

The paint peeled off as I struggled to climb to the fifth floor.

My plan was to search for five minutes and then take Kenny to the motel. I glanced at my wristwatch and it was already fifteen minutes after three.

“Just five minutes,” I muttered to myself.

My shoe slipped and I almost screamed, nearly blowing my cover.

“Shh…” I hissed at myself.

I finally got to the window, swung over the ledge, and slipped inside. The place was eerily quiet. Even the clock wasn’t ticking.

“Okay… creepy.”

I headed to the admin’s office where they kept the records and incidents, according to what Sister Agnes used to call them.

I brought out my hairpin. I wasn’t expecting the door to be open, but when I pushed it, it was.

This was weird because the door was always locked, but I didn’t think too much about it and pushed it slowly.

Inside, the cabinets were labeled with alphabets.

A–F

G–M

N–S

T–Z

The files were too many as I shut the door behind me. I peeped out the window and spotted Kenny’s platinum hair. To my left, the guard was patrolling like they were searching for him.

I had to hurry and leave here with him, but the files were too many. My fingers traced the labels until I found the one I wanted.

S.

“Session reports…” I whispered.

There it was. I pulled open the session logs but there was nothing.

I pulled the pages to March twelve, seven days ago.

I flipped the pages past March 9 to 11, and then the next page was March 13th. There were no records of anything.

I had to check again. It was very strange. The same thing had happened with Ivy’s cell phone.

I opened another cabinet, but there were still more logs and boring stuff inside. At the bottom of the drawer, I noticed a small compartment, which was locked.

I crouched and had a close look. The lock wasn’t fancy. It was very old and rusty.

Immediately, I grabbed the hairpin from my pocket, and with two twists, the drawer slid open.

Inside were brown folders. They had no dates, only codes.

S-04

S-06

S-09

I picked one randomly, losing track of time.

S-12.

“This had to be it…” I muttered and opened it, but I was staring at random Ghibli-styled photos of us.

I continued and saw our names, Ivy, etc.

But mine was circled with red ink.

There were notes beside it.

“Unusual recovery speed from liquids. Neurological spikes.”

“The subject was always stable after clinical death.”

My brain couldn’t keep up as I closed the file. I didn’t understand what was written there, but I didn’t need a soothsayer to tell me these people didn’t treat us, nor did they see us as humans.

My hands started shaking. I was having a panic attack and needed to leave. But when I got up, I heard footsteps and voices outside.

I shoved the file back and closed the drawer fast.

There was no place to hide. I wanted to confront them and come up with a big lie, not until I saw a space behind the cabinet and dove in, squeezing myself there.

The lights in the room soon came on and I was able to see who they were.

It was two men. One was carrying a tablet and the other a metal case.

“…subjects showing higher rates this year,” one muttered.

“Especially the older ones,” the other said. They didn’t call us by our names, just subjects, like we were tools for an experiment.

“That girl. The tennis one.”

“She shouldn’t have survived the first time,” the first man said casually.

“The director said to keep monitoring her, even as she lives with Vance. Send a spy and if her abilities spiked, we wipe her.”

I held my breath, not daring to make a sound. They were talking about me. What abilities were they talking about?

“Kids from this batch respond better. Less… human resistance.”

They laughed and grabbed some folders.

“We need to delete it before they get in contact with it.”

I didn’t understand half of it, but I knew one thing.

They weren’t talking about helping kids.

When he opened the case, what I saw were different types of syringes. He opened the safe and stacked them in while retrieving the used ones.

Then they left. I stayed there for another four minutes, and only when my legs started hurting did I move.

I walked to the drawers and wiped my fingerprints. It was stupid, but I did it anyway.

Then I slipped out the window and dropped to the ground.

When I got to where I left Kenny, I couldn’t find him.

“What the hell?”

I walked a little bit further, hoping he had shifted to hide from the guards, but there was no sign of him.

“Kenny?” I said in a hushed tone, but nothing answered.

I grabbed my phone to call him, but I didn’t have his number on this cell.

My mind went back to what those men said and I was restless.

I could only wonder how I had been so blind to all this going on and hadn’t noticed.

I let my legs wander the streets of California at night, worried about Kenny. Did he sneak back in? Or was he caught by the guards? I just hoped he was fine.

After walking for a while, I soon stood before the bar Ivy had always brought me to whenever we snuck out.

I stepped inside and the music was blaring.

I walked and sat at the bar, which was the only place I knew. I was overwhelmed and knew I couldn’t sleep even if I went back.

“Hi.”

I sat awkwardly, my voice breaking. My life was too chaotic. I wasn’t winning. This wasn’t my plan. I sat at the counter but the bartender acted like he didn’t see me.

It was a really small bar.

Ivy was the one who always ordered the drinks, so this was really strange to me.

I flashed a false smile when he looked my way.

“Can I get a drink?” But he looked away and whispered to his colleague.

I didn’t know, but that act alone broke me and for the first time, I cried with my head bent. My body shook violently, but my voice was drowned by the music and I didn’t want anyone to know how broken I was.

“The lady said she wanted some shots,” a soft voice said behind me, but it carried power.

I turned and in the disco lights, my eyes fell on the per

fect sleepy gray eyes that had swept me off my feet at first sight.

My heart skipped and my fingers vibrated. I immediately hid them between my laps.