Project Archangel Book One: The Conspiracy Project

Chapter 8

When Michael texted me to say he was outside, I was dressed in black skinny jeans and a black tank top beneath a red plaid button up shirt. I slipped out of the house and into the passenger seat of his car, giving my mother a quick goodbye before we left.
Once we were on our way, I faced him and asked “where to?”
Michael shrugged. “You want to get some lunch? I haven't eaten.”
“Sure.”
“Any recommendations this time?"
“Well, my friends and I used to like to go to a place called The Beach House. They have a sort of mini arcade. We could go there, if you want.”
“Sounds good. Where is it?”
 
I directed him until we pulled up in front of the restaurant. It was built to look like a typical surf shack sort of place, and the inside walls were decorated with pictures of white sandy beaches, sail boats, and sea creatures. The entrance opened to a bar on the left and tables and chairs on the right. At the very back of the restaurant, behind the tables, was a separate room with a doorway but no door. Inside there was the mini arcade area.
We ordered food at the bar and went into the arcade to wait for it. There was only one other person in there: a guy playing Soul Calibur Arcade. We got some coins and played whatever looked interesting, mostly the racing games and shooters. When they brought our food to us, we took a seat just outside the arcade to eat and went back in once we were done.
I stopped in front of the claw machine game on our way out, peering in at a cute little red fox with a bushy tail and a studded collar that read FOXY. Since I had always believed that 'you can never have enough stuffed animals' were words to live by, I put some tokens into the machine.
Michael watched curiously from behind me, asking “you know how to play these things?”
“Well, sure,” I replied, eyes on the fox. “It’s not that hard.”
“I’ve never been able to win anything.”
“Then you probably weren't doing it right,” I joked, lowering the claw just a little bit.
“You know you're way off, right?”
“Nope.” Claw lowered just enough to keep from retracting, I began to push the fox gently towards the opening with the top of it. I pushed and pushed until it was just at the edge, and the pressure got to be too much for the machine. It dropped all the way and went back up, ever so gently hitting the stuffed animal as it did so, which knocked it into the prize hole. I claimed my prize and turned to Michael with a big grin.
He let out a short breathy laugh and smiled. “Well, I'm impressed.”
“In machines like this you can push them. Another way is to position the claw so that it hooks on something like a tag, ribbon, or thread. It's easy once you get the hang of it.”
He shook his head. “Not for me.”
“You don't know until you try.”
“Then I guess I’ll never find out.”
“Aww, why?”
He shifted uncomfortably and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I just don’t like to try anything if failure is an option.”
“But then how will you improve to succeed?”
“I’m not really worried about that. I’m already good at everything I need to be good at.”
“But it never hurts to learn something new.”
He must have ran out of arguments because he simply shrugged carelessly.
“Just try. Please? For me?” I held up the fox next to my face and gave him my best puppy dog eyes.
He sighed through a smile and took a couple of tokens out of his pocket. “For you. And only because you asked so nicely.”
I grinned and took a few steps back so he could have some space. I watched from beside him as he took a chance at the claw. He was going for a stuffed dalmatian with a red bow tied neatly around its neck. He hooked the ribbon with the claw and began to pull it towards the prize drop. When time ran out, the claw dropped completely, but the ribbon stayed attached. It lifted the dalmatian and carried it to the hole by its ribbon before releasing it with a quick jerky motion that caused it to slide right off the metal and drop into the chute. I retrieved it, and Michael gave me a smug smile. I held it out to him.
“I win,” he chuckled, taking the stuffed animal from me.
“Told you you could do it.”
He shrugged carelessly and held out the dalmatian to me. “You can have it, if you want. I don’t really have any stuffed animals.”
“Then that's why you need one. They protect you from all the scary things that lurk in the dark while you sleep.”
He laughed.
“Seriously!” I paused. “Tell you what. I’ll take care of the puppy, and you can take care of Foxy.”
“Foxy. How original.” He smirked. “And what are you going to name the dog?” He nodded at the stuffed animal in question.
I thought for a moment. Marshall? Nah, that was probably taken. Hero? Nah, too easy. Hiro?
“Hiro-San!” I announced.
Michael just shook his head with a smile.
 
After getting distracted by a few more games, we left The Beach House and headed back to Michael's house. By the time we got there, we were all video gamed out, so we just hung around on the dock that was just beyond his back yard. There was a pontoon boat tied up to one of the little metal handles in the wood, and we sat together on the wooden square and looked out across the lake while Michael took a smoke break.
“It's peaceful, isn't it?” he randomly asked after a bit.
I nodded. “When I was little, I had a friend who lived on the lake. When I would go to visit her, she would splash around in the water while I sat on the dock like this and just stared at the water, you know, since I couldn't swim. We were best friends until her parents divorced and she and her mother had to move.”
“That’s unfortunate...” Michael muttered quietly, putting out his cigarette on the wood.
I shrugged. “I eventually made more friends, in case you can't tell.”
He nodded silently, just letting me talk.
“Sometimes her dad would take us out on their pontoon boat or we would go tubing with the jet skis, and we always had fun, but as her parents' relationship went to hell, her father became more and more distant and had less and less time for his daughter, much less her poor friend who didn't have money or a house on the lake.
“Sometimes we would go out to her dock and lay down on it with our eyes closed because it felt like we were floating on a boat. We would pretend to be castaways, just waking up and lost out at sea. Other times we would pretend to be pirates or sailors, exploring uncharted territory to claim as our own...” I trailed off, gazing out across the lake as far as I could see.
“I told you my parents have a boat, right? I know how to drive it...” Michael muttered, interrupting my mindless gazing.
I glanced at him and then at the boat tied up alongside our sitting spot. “You mean that boat?”
He nodded. “Do you... Want to go for a ride?”
I stared at the large boat beside us. I hadn't been on such a thing since I was the child in the story I had just told, and it looked rather intimidating now. Plus, Michael was barely older than me. Did he actually know how to drive this thing or was he just saying that to impress me?
“Um... I don't know...”
“It's okay. I promise I know what I'm doing.”
“I've heard that before.”
“I swear. I know what I’m doing,” he repeated reassuringly.
I still hesitated.
Michael stood up and held out a hand to me. “Do you trust me?"
“Trust is a strong word.”
He laughed. “Just come on. It'll be fun.”
I took his outstretched hand, and he helped me up and into the boat. He untied the rope and jumped over the side of the boat to get on board himself. Once he had joined me, he started the engine and began to drive, as I sat nervously in what would be the passenger seat of a car, holding on for dear life.
Michael seemed to notice my terror and laughed. “Relax! Close your eyes, breathe, feel the wind in your hair. It's an awesome feeling.”
How was I supposed to relax and close my eyes when I was on a boat with a cute guy who claimed to know how to drive it, even though he was barely older than me? I mean, so far we hadn't died, so maybe it was worth a try. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the wind whip my hair back and rush against my face, nearly taking my breath away. As I became more comfortable, I began to enjoy the ride a lot more, until I heard Michael say “Do you want to drive?”
My eyes shot open. Was he crazy? Hell no I didn’t want to drive this contraption. That would be like letting a five year old drive your Mustang, except that on a boat we could drown.
“Um... No thanks,” I mumbled. “I'm good.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. “I don't feel like drowning today.”
“Come on, you'll be fine. I'll teach you.”
I shook my head.
“You can pretend to be a pirate captain.”
I laughed. “You're the captain. You actually know what you're doing. I’m more like the clumsy first mate who breaks the compass and gets us stranded on a deserted island.”
He grinned. “Do I need to get you a white fishing hat and red sweater?”
I shook my head and smiled, happy that he understood the reference, as most people my age wouldn't have.
“Come on, just give it a try. If you don't like it, you can stop.”
I sighed. “Fine, but when we drown or wake up on Gilligan's Island, don't come crying to me.”
I stood before the wheel with Michael behind me. He explained all the controls and showed me how to drive, and I did fine for a little bit, until I tried to make a turn too sharp, almost tipping the boat over. I let him take over from there and went to the bow to sit and stare out at all the fancy houses we passed and the lake surrounding us. I thought about the people in those houses and what it would be like if I lived in one of them. But they were all too big for my liking. I would be happy in a small house in the middle of nowhere, where I could see the stars each night and have a couple of pets and maybe a partner to keep me company. Michael would probably be a tolerable person to live with.
As I thought about these things, we left the inhabited areas of the lake, and when I was pretty sure we were lost, a small island came into view. Michael steered the boat directly towards it until we ran aground. He got out, tied it up, and held out his arms.
I hesitated. “Where are we? Why?”
“Uncharted territory,” he joked. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
“Eh...”
“Jump. I'll catch you. Promise.”
I hesitated awhile longer before closing my eyes and jumping. Just as he promised, Michael caught me and placed my feet firmly on the ground. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and he smiled. We were close enough that I could smell his spicey sweet cologne. His hands were still on my waist, but he moved them quickly. To my surprise, he took my hand and began to lead me.
As I followed, his warm hand holding mine, I couldn't help but to be a little bit worried and confused. Why were we here? What could he possibly want to show me on some random island? Was he going to kill me or something?
I shook my head, telling myself that I was being paranoid. If Michael wanted to hurt me, he’d already had plenty of chances. He was a bit weird, sure, but I didn't think he would do anything that crazy. Keeping this in mind, I followed him through a path in the trees for a ways until we came to a stop at the bottom of a hill. On top of the hill sat a building with a tall fence around it with security cameras along the perimeter and what looked like a cell phone tower at the back of the building.
Wait. A cell phone tower? On an island like this? Why was that here? Why was this mysterious building fenced in? Why the cameras?
Michael continued up the hill, along another trail. I let go of his hand and stayed where I was. Realizing this, he turned back to face me and tilted his head, throwing me a questioning glance.
“Um... Michael...? Should we be here?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah, why not?”
“Well, you know, the fence, the cameras...”
He grinned. “It's okay, they don't work anymore.”
“What about those signs that probably say no trespassing or warning high voltage?”
“There's also one that says biosecure area, but it's fine. The fence isn't electrified anymore, the cameras don't work, and the tower has no electricity or frequency.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Nothing on this compound works. They shut it down years ago.”
“They? Who is ‘they’?”
“The government.”
My eyes widened. “This is government property? Michael, we can't be here!”
“Why not?”
“What do you mean why not? Because it's government property!”
“They aren't using it anymore.”
“How do you know?”
“My parents? They work for the government, remember?”
“But...”
“Come on. This place is really cool.”
“Michael...” I groaned.
I should have known getting in that boat with him was a stupid idea. Now I was going to end up in federal prison or worse. Unfortunately, I couldn't see where I had much of a choice. I was already stuck on an island that was government property, didn't know how to properly drive a boat, and had no other way back home. But the place was abandoned anyway, right? How dangerous could it be? With a sigh of resignation, I followed him up the path on the large hill. When we reached the top, I could clearly see that the gate of the towering fence around the building was padlocked with a large heavy chain.
“It's locked. Guess we can’t get in. Too bad,” I said, failing to hide my relief.
“We can get in. Watch.” He reached out and pulled on the bottom of the fence, pulling it out just enough that we could barely squeeze through without tearing our clothes.
I stood back, watching him slither through the gate.
He got to the other side and stood up, grinning triumphantly. “Come on!”
I very reluctantly followed behind him.
Once I reached the other side of the gate, we started for the entrance to the compound. It was a metal door with a single window, made from bulletproof glass, with signs that read no trespassing, Novis Island: authorized personnel only, and biosecure area. Without even giving it a thought, Michael turned the knob, and we entered the building.
“This used to be the shower area,” he explained as we walked through. “It's a biosecure area, so people need to shower before entering and on their way out.”
“What exactly do you mean by biosecure?” I demanded as we walked through the showers.
“They used to grow viruses and things here. This is where they worked on several medicines and vaccines,” Michael explained.
“Wait... There are viruses here?”
“Not anymore.” He paused. “Well, maybe in the cemetery.”
My eyes grew wide. “Cemetery?”
“Yeah. That's where the people who didn't survive were buried. It's around the side, but you probably shouldn't go out there.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
“Fucking zombies...” I mumbled under my breath.
Michael laughed.
We were halfway through the other room by now. It looked like some sort of lab with hospital beds and tons of unused machinery.
Michael confirmed my thoughts. “This is the lab. It's where they tested the medicines and vaccines.”
“Where are all the cages?” I wondered, looking around the dim room, lit only by the light from the little windows high up on the walls.
Michael gave me a confused look. “Cages?”
“Yeah. Don't they test things on rats and monkeys first?”
He blinked. “You mean like in the movies?”
I nodded.
He shrugged. “Maybe somewhere else. Here they did human trials. Many of them didn't make it though.”
I felt a chill run up my spine and shuddered. “This place is probably haunted or something then.”
He smirked. “Maybe. But don't worry, I'll protect you.”
“What a relief.” I rolled my eyes.
“Come on.” He grinned, taking my hand and pulling me towards the back of the building.
Back here there were several rooms that looked more like cells than bedrooms. Each one had a metal door with one small window at eye level, probably for observation purposes. All of the doors were left opened and the inside of each one was the same. There was a single bed, a writing desk, and another door that led to a tiny bathroom with a sink and stand up shower. At the very back of each room was a tiny window that was too high up to reach and too tiny for anyone but a cat to fit through, if it weren't for the metal bars.
“This was my room,” Michael announced. “Number 18.” His tone didn't match his words though. It was almost like he was recalling something he had forgotten.
“Your room?”
He nodded and started into the room with a big 18 on the door. “I stayed here with my parents for a little bit.”
I followed him, looking around. This room looked pretty much just like the others. Why was Michael staying here though?
“I was eleven. My parents didn't feel like I was old enough to stay home by myself, so they brought me here with them.”
There he went again, reading my mind.
“Did they experiment on you?” I joked.
Michael didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to the desk and pulled out the drawer. I followed him and peered over his shoulder to see a black book lying in the back of the drawer. He picked it up and flipped through the pages, muttering, “I'm surprised this is still here. I thought they would have found it and threw it away by now.”
“What is it?” I inquired.
“My old journal from when I stayed here.” He handed the book to me. “Here. You keep it.”
“Why me?”
“Because I know I can trust you not to read it.”
I blinked and took the book from him. That was a pretty bold assumption to make.
“I'll read it again one day.” He started for the door, and I followed him out.
We walked past several more numbered doors until we reached another one without a number. Michael gave me a smile. “This is the best part of this whole compound.”
He opened the door to reveal a grassy area outside with a fence around it. It wasn't really anything fancy. There were some backless benches by the fence, looking out over the lake, but that was it mostly. There was a small fenced in area to the side, which is where the cell phone tower stood.
I looked down at my phone. No signal. It really didn't work.
He walked over to one of the wooden benches and sat down, staring at the fence and the lake beyond. When I sat down beside him, he didn't look at me. He seemed to be off in his own little world.
“What happened here?” I asked quietly as we stared out at the lake.
“I told you. They tested vaccines on people,” Michael replied.
I turned my head to look at him, and he looked back. “But what happened to you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You're not the same person you used to be.”
“Oh. You noticed that?”
“Everybody noticed that. At least the people who used to know you did.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I just grew up.”
I shook my head. “No. All the other little rich kids haven't changed a bit, but you have. There's something else, isn't there?”
His eyes narrowed. “You're asking an awful lot of questions.”
“Well, that's the only way to get answers.”
“You want my best advice? Don't.”
"Don't?”
“Don't ask questions, and don't look for answers. If you keep digging, you may eventually end up in a grave.”
My stomach tightened. I didn't like the way he said that. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means, Alice, that if you keep going down the rabbit hole, you may never come back. You'll be stuck in Wonderland forever, and it's definitely not the sort of place you would expect it to be.”
I eyed him warily. “Are you... Threatening me?”
He smiled. “No. I'm simply saying that you're really smart. Maybe too smart. I have no doubt that, if you really tried, you could easily uncover the truth, so I'll just tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“The truth.”
There was a long pause before I asked “okay, what is it?”
Michael sighed. “I'm depressed.”
“What?” I gave him a confused look.
“I'm depressed. And sometimes suicidal. Something about a chemical imbalance in my brain.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You're depressed. And that's supposed to answer all my questions?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not. It wasn't always like this, I don't think. But if I'm being honest, I don't remember much that happened to me before I turned 14.”
“What do you mean you don't remember?”
“I don't remember. I mean, sometimes little things will pop up. Most of them go away, but some things stay. Like the important things. I remember those.”
“What important things?”
“My eleventh birthday party. I remember that. I remember when those girls locked you in the closet. I opened the door, and you yelled at me. You told me you hated me and you wished your parents hadn't made you come over. I actually expected you to punch me in the face.”
My eyes narrowed. “It's not too late, you know.”
He chuckled softly. “I'm sorry about all that. I know I told you before, but I really am. I shouldn't have been so concerned about everyone else. I should have been more concerned about you.”
I shrugged. “We were kids.”
He smiled faintly. “That's a really shitty excuse.”
I looked down at my hands, scraping some left over nail polish from the last time I had painted them off of my thumb nails. “Anyway, I'm over it.”
“You're lying.”
I looked up at the boy beside me. “No I'm not.”
“Yes you are. You're not looking at me, and you're fidgeting. That tells me you're lying.”
“Whatever.” I stopped fidgeting. “What else do you remember?”
He was silent for a moment before answering. “I remember the amusement park my parents used to take me to when they were tired of me. They'd leave me there for a few hours and do whatever they needed to before coming back to get me. They owned the park, so they would just get someone who worked there to keep an eye on me. It's closed down now though.”
“Really? Why?”
He shrugged. “I guess they wanted to focus on other projects.” When he said 'projects' he made sure to make air quotes with his fingers.
“Oh...” was all I could think to say.
“I also remember when I first came here. I was here for about a year, I think, but I don't remember much of what happened while I was here. After that, my parents took me to another facility with them. And you wanna hear another truth?”
“What?”
“I never went to boarding school. I stayed with my parents at the desert compound when this one closed down. I had a tutor though, so I still got some sort of education.”
“A pretty good one from what I can see,” I noted.
“What do you mean?”
“You're really smart.”
He laughed. “I wouldn't go that far. I'm just a fast learner.”
“You beat Lacey Smith at pretty much everything.”
“So?”
“So she claims to be a genius with an extremely high IQ.”
“I have a high IQ too.”
I smiled. “You know what? I believe you.”
He grinned. “You better.”
“Or what?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead. Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'm good at planning things. I didn't even plan to come here today, but I figured it could be interesting.”
I laughed.
Michael lit a cigarette and took a long drag. When he noticed me looking at him, he asked “what?”
“You shouldn't smoke so much,” I muttered, looking back out at the lake. “It's bad for you.”
“Yeah, I know. Lung cancer and all that.”
“Well yeah, but it's bad for relationships too.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
I shrugged. “Well, no one wants to kiss someone who tastes like an ashtray.”
He laughed. “Ouch. That hurt.”
“Seriously. Lance used to smoke, and I hated kissing him. He drank a lot too.”
“Are you sure you weren't just disgusted by him? I mean, I wouldn't want to kiss that either. You can't just blame the cigarettes.”
I smiled and shook my head. What a dork.
Michael sighed. “I know you're right. I should quit, but it's a hard habit to break, and I don't really have any motivation or incentive.”
“I'll give you a kiss if you don't smoke for a whole day,” I joked. “How's that for incentive?”
He smiled. “Is that every day that I don't smoke or just the first day?”
I laughed. “I was mostly joking, but you know what? Why the hell not? Everyday.”
His smile morphed itself into a smirk. “You're going to regret saying that.”
“I doubt it.”
“You underestimate my willpower and self control.”