Anomalous

Anomalous (2)

I'll let you in on a little secret... out of all my stories this is my favourite.

Zia rested her head against the warm black leather of the passenger seat. She could feel the seatbelt cutting gently into her neck as she stared vacantly out the car's window. She knew, theoretically speaking, that this was now a time of possibilities for her. She was eighteen, she was away from her mother and all the laboratories, and no one knew her secret. There was no-one to make her do anything against her will, no-one to judge her or fear her, to poke and prod her. But her cynical mind told her it was all too good to be true. Life had taught her that good things didn't happen to her kind. Especially her. And when they did, they didn't last long.

Her mind fuzzed as she relaxed with the steady motion of the car. It was as if she was in some form of meditative state. She felt detached from the world and herself as she watched the passing scenery.

He drew one last puff from his cigarette, threw it down and stepped over it as he made his way back to the house. He walked back to his room without even vaguely acknowledging his mother's presence as she hovered by the door in an artificial display of 'motherly affection'. He stuffed his favourite pair of jeans and a couple of shirts as well as a hoodie, a pair of converse all stars and his copy of "The catcher in the Rye" in his grey duffle bag. He grabbed the extra box of cigarettes from his draw and slid them into his pocket alongside his lighter and last two cigarettes from the previous box.

He hated them all. It wasn't just teenage angst that drove him to feel such negativity towards these men and his parents. They had treated him worse than a lab rat since he was seven. It wasn't just himself they treated so appallingly - it was the way they treated all the people like him that disgusted him. The complete disregard for basic human rights just because of a gene or two that they found fascinating. On every trip he made to the lab against his will he had watched helplessly as young children and toddlers were herded like cattle to be poked and prodded before being returned to parents who would barley touch them as they asked the doctors if there was anything they could do to make their children "normal", "better", as if it was some form of disease to be eradicated. One time he had even seen an elderly man be pushed around viscously by one of the nurses as she got irritated by his sluggish pace. He had interjected that time and was punished for it by both his parents and the centre. Now instead of the freedom he was usually granted after he did guinea pig duty he was being tossed into the belly of the beast. There was no-one to stop this. It was all government approved and funded research and probably a bigger secret than area fifty-one. And all because they just didn't understand.

The agents drove James to the airport where they all boarded a plane to Houston. When they arrived they were met by a black SUV that drove them to a ranch two and a half hours away. By the time they had arrived it was nine in the evening and a feeling of complete uselessness and inadequacy had settled over James. He had always promised himself he would not allow them to do anything vaguely like this but here he was. And if his suspicions were right, here were the head quarters of the World A.H.A organization's primary research laboratory. He suspected he would be subjected to intense examinations and testing. At the laboratory in his home town he had only undergone the usual MRIs, CT scans, blood tests, genetics tests and occasionally they would try some drug on him to see if his body reacted differently but James suspected that out here they would see how far his abilities could be stretched. Here they were in control and he knew they could do whatever they wanted to him - and there would be no-one to stop them. Not that there ever had been, but now there was nowhere he could escape from it all.

The vehicle approached a farm house and came to a complete stop in front of the white-washed wooden porch. He was ushered out of the car and into the farm house where he was led to a door that appeared to be the door to the coat closet. One of the agents opened the door and they all walked into the confined space. An agent swiped his card and a light turned on to bask the space in a sterile beam. It was a lift. He punched in a code and they began their descent. James was impressed. He had certainly not expected the simple farm house to be the entrance to the head quarters. He was also amazed at the amount of money the government wasted. He was slightly honoured, if not disgusted, that the government was shelling out millions just for him to be treated like a lab rat.