The Karma Study

Chapter 18 - PPND

Participant Z-7-4

"What's the code to their armory?" Father asks.

He's repeated this question six times, and each time my response has been the same.

"I don't know." As soon as the lie is spoken, the helmet of the electric chair sends volts throughout my body. The stink is so hot it's turned the blood in my veins cold, and icy. I'm not sure how many volts this chair produces, but I'm sure I'm close to the lethal amount. Each time I lie, he shocks me.

Even though they betrayed me, I am willing to die with their secrets.

Even though they betrayed me, I am willing to burn holes in my skin so they can touch my bones.

"Still as stubborn as always, I see. Guess we'll need to take a different route to the truth." Father's tone is volatile, and dripping in oil. Thick, and dark, and so heavy I can feel it clinging to my skin.

He moved behind me and removed the head gear. On instinct I clench my fists, trying to escape the chair and it's leather straps, but my muscles refuse to obey. The waves of electricity are still sending numbing shocks to the tips of my fingers, a sensation of pins and needles that are on fire and laced with acid. Like iodized salt in a fresh exposed wound. Like my nerves have been stripped bare and dragged across concrete.

He tilts my head backwards to force me to stare at the ceiling and then straps a leather cuff around my neck to lock my head in place.

Father takes a weighted towel and lays it flat on my face, blinding me to my surroundings. I attempt to mentally prepare myself for what's coming: Waterboarding. I control my breathing, and relax my muscles as much as possible to calm the quakes still vibrating through me. My mind is fuzzy, and each of my thoughts have jumbled into alphabet soup and I am trying to connect the dots as to how I ended up here in the first place, but I honestly can barely remember my real name.

Z? I know it started with a Z.

That's right, My name is Participant Z-7-4, and I am a subject in a human study experiment in an attempt to make me an unbreakable lethal machine. I am no longer a human, but an object. An object of science, and no other purpose but to serve my father and the future of the world.

"We'll try a different question too." My vision is completely obscure but I can hear him walking back and forth to the south end of the room. "Tell me, Participant Z-7-4, how are you communicating with them?" He asks.

"What?" I ask, completely thrown off by the question.

"Let me give you more details. How are you communicating with the Karma brothers?"

"I'm not." It sounds more like a question than a statement. It's my honest truth... Unless it's not? Unless my mutters to the blinking red lights have truly been a way of communicating with them. Him asking me this only tells me that they might be on his tail, they might actually be trying to find me,

But if they're trying to find me then...

****************************************************************************

"Z-7-4?" Five's voice yanks me from my memory of yesterday's interrogation session. "Lost you for a minute there." He laughs and goes back to a medical tray in the corner of the room.

"Why does he have you taking care of me?" I ask, my voice dry and completely void of emotion. "If they have thought about you being a flight risk in the past, why would he have you taking care of one of the most lethal participants in the study?"