Page 32 of N8
Biggs made a face, but he’d worked with the man long enough to know Conners wouldn’t jerk him around. If the man said it was important, it had to fall within his three facts guideline:
Was it fatal?
Was it forbidden?
Was it final?
Saving his document, he put the computer in sleep mode and got up from his desk. He followed the deputy into the conference room to find seven people seated around the table. Two more of his staff stood in the back to keep watch, as was protocol.
He eyed the group. They were an eclectic bunch, but they all had one thing in common. They were all young. He guesstimated no one was older than thirty, but he’d also bet none of them were teenagers.
Going to the head of the table, he took a stance and placed his hands on his hips. “I’m Sheriff Biggs. Is there something you need to see me about?”
A young man with scruffy hair and several days’ growth on his face stood. “My name’s Nate. These are my friends. Well, they’re more like my family. We grew up together. We came here because we’re seeking asylum.”
Biggs slowly nodded. “What’s your last name, son?”
“I…we don’t have one. Except for Cydney. Her last name’s Huddleston, but she’s not one of us. She’s normal. Like you.”
That last bit made him lift an eyebrow. “She’s normal like me? Come on, now. What’s your last name? Everybody’s got a last name.”
“Wedon’t, sir,” the beautiful redhead remarked. “We’re telling you the truth. The scientists never gave us one.”
“The scientists?” Biggs raised a hand. “Wait. Before we go any further, I’m going to have this conversation taped. Do any of you have a problem with that?”
The group looked at each other. Finally, the young man called Nate shook his head. “We’re fine with it. At least you’ll have some evidence in case they come to get us.”
“In case who comes to get you?”
“Those scientists who’ve kept us hostage all our lives,” the blond man replied.
Biggs continued to stare at the group. Either they were high on something, or they were the type who got their kicks by trying to pull one over on law enforcement. And yet, he also got the impression they were dead serious.
Bending over, he placed his palms on top of the table and gave them his best authoritarian glare. “Listen, if this is some type of joke—”
A brunette Nate had referred to as Cydney got to her feet. “Sir, we knew you’d be leery of our claims. But you have to listen to us with an open mind. My name is Cydney Huddleston. I’m a Level Two biotech administrative assistant at Docenti Labs.”
“Docenti? That’s outside of White Mountain, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.” The young woman took a deep breath. “Sheriff, we came here hoping you could protect us. You see, these six people are the result of a very clandestine operation called Project Chimera. They’ve been genetically engineered to be… Well, they have special abilities. They have spent their entire lives locked inside an underground bunker, and made to believe that life on the surface of the world was nearly wiped out in nineteen ninety during a nuclear holocaust.”
Biggs couldn’t help breaking out in laughter. His three deputies also snickered in amusement. However, the Huddleston woman remained resolute. In fact, she appeared to be downright angry at their reaction.
“Sheriff Biggs, do you honestly think we’d come here today telling you this if we didn’t have proof?”
He pulled himself together. “All right, Miss Huddleston. It’s a nice fiction you’re telling us. But for the life of me, I can’t quite get the gist of what you’re trying to sell me.”
Imitating him, she placed her hands on the table and leaned in his direction. “What I’m telling you is this. These people never knew this world existed until I told them. By doing that, I put all our lives in jeopardy. All they want is the chance to live their lives freely. Without fear, and without retaliation.”
Now he was intrigued. “What kind of retaliation?”
“Tests that are more like torture,” a burly man in a buzz cut remarked.
Biggs stared at the guy, who appeared to have strips of skin hanging off of his arms and neck, as if he were peeling. The pale strips were in direct contrast to the darker skin underneath, giving Biggs the impression of a lizard shedding its casing.
The young man continued. “Sometimes they inject stuff in us to see how we react, and it makes us so sick, we’re hospitalized for weeks. Sometimes months. Sometimes they do it just to fuck us up. And sometimes they do it to punish us for some transgression or other shit they think we’ve done. Stuff they say we’re guilty of, whether we’ve actually done anything or not.”
The man was dead serious, and Biggs found himself almost believing his story.
