Numbers
Chapter 4

I think that it is safe to say that any sane person would have never talked to the bodies alone again. Any sane person would have been afraid of what happened to my staff happening to them. Any sane person would have laid low and just done their work, just lived one day at a time until this madness ended, if it ended. I also believe it is safe to say that I’m not any sane person.

But this time it was different. I wasn’t frightened off by Julianne’s appearance, I was invigorated by it. Instead of going every few days I decided I would go every night. I guess you could call it my stubbornness, or maybe I had a death wish, or maybe this is the true reason I never left. But I wouldn’t be under Julianne’s thumb any longer. No. I couldn’t be under her thumb any longer. So I waited all the next day. I isolated the genes, but made no injections. I watched one of the bodies being taken to the operating rooms, I watched and waited. Nothing was different about that day from any outside perspective.

Scientists went about their business just as any other day. Scurrying back and forth all but ignoring the bodies that were housed in the next hall. Computers hummed, beakers clinked together, and the sound of rapid typing were the only things that broke the silence. The day seemed to crawl forward instead of fly by. For the first time since I first started at the institute I felt no fear as to what was going to happen next. It was a good feeling, but I could see the fear etched into the lines of everyone else’s face. I couldn’t wait for everyone to leave at the end of the day.

The last person left and the glass doors slid closed behind them. I sat on my stool and waited. I waited openly. I dared Julianne to come back again. I dared her to walk through those doors and confront me again. I dared her with my sitting; I sat and looked right at the camera that was placed in the corner. I waited for ten minutes, but no one came. I slowly stood, still looking at the camera and walked to the hallway door.

I entered my code into the dial pad and the usual buzz rang out through the hall. I took a deep breath and stepped into the blindingly white hall. I knew where I was going to go, but first things first. I quickly walked to Paul’s door, entering my code and waited for the door to slide open. Paul jumped to his feet, “Did you talk to her,” he asked eagerly.

I nodded, “Later. I need you to come with me.”

I left, only trusting that he would follow. Next was Cynthia’s room, I entered my code and the door slid smoothly open. Cynthia looked up wearily, very different from Paul’s reaction. “I need you to come with me.”

“Why,” she asked, “So you can cut me?”

“Cynthia it’s me,” I stepped into her room, “You know I would never do that.”

I heard Paul’s steps from behind me. Cynthia did a double take; her mouth fell open in amazement, I didn’t know if it was because she saw Paul or if she just recognized me but I didn’t care. I smiled, “I need you to come with me,” I repeated.

I left the room, again only trusting that Paul would make Cynthia follow, and went to the next room. Number 10345’s room was a short distance away from Cynthia’s and that was part of the reason why I chose it. Another reason was because he had not been to the operating room as often as the others.

I hesitated at his door. I looked behind me at Paul and Cynthia, making sure they were there. They were a step behind me, my confidence grew as I saw Paul smile back at me and Cynthia nervously shift from foot to foot, still unsure. I entered my code and the door slid open. Number 10345 sat on his bed, very prim and proper, and looked over at us with mild curiosity.

“Hello,” he said pleasantly, his brown eyes sparkled as they looked me up and down.

He had a rather high pitched voice for a man, his skin was of perfect complexion, and his hair looked smartly cut unlike I had seen from any of the other bodies. “Ohmagod,” he squeaked jumping up from his bed, “Hey Paul!”

10345 rushed forward and threw his arms around Paul. “I’m so glad your skin cleared up because no amount of moisturizer was going to fix all that,” he waved his hand in front of Paul’s face, but then he turned to me, “And you! Aren’t you just a little bag of sweetness and I just love the hair! It’s so…Jodie Foster, I always did like Jodie Foster.” Then he turned to Cynthia, “And honey, I thought we went over this the other day. Good hair care cannot be over looked even for one day! Then you start to look like some horrible Zombie woman from some 80’s horror movie. And no one wants to see that.”

I realized my mouth was hanging open and quickly snapped it shut. Cynthia looked exasperated as she stared up at 10345, but Paul now looked uncomfortable standing there by the door, shifting from foot to foot. Cynthia was the first of us to speak, or, rather, the first of us to interrupt 10345, “Why did we have to go to him,” she glared at me, “you better have a reason.”

“Honey, no one likes a blue skinned, glazed eyed, sour puss. Now let’s turn that frown upside down and comb that hair!”

I grabbed his arm before he could haul Cynthia into his room, “What is your name?”

He paused and turned to me, “Luke, ya know like the gospel? What’s yours, Jodie Foster hair?”

I hesitated, “My hairs not blonde…”

He threw back his head and laughed, “Oh honey,” he grabbed me by the hand and led me to his bed, “Your winged bangs give you away! So name?” He asked as he took me by the hand and led me into his room, allowing me only seconds to glance towards the door to make sure we were truly alone.

“O…Olivia,” I said bringing my attention back to Luke.

He nodded approvingly, “That is the name of many successful models, I think the universe is trying to tell you something. Don’t you? But really honey, you must have a reason for coming to my wonderful palace of blindingly white walls that really could use a paint job.”

I blinked, “Um,” I sat down hard on his bed, using the pause as time to think, “I came to talk to you…I mean I came to ask you questions.”

Luke made something like a pouting face, placing a hand over his heart and turning the Cynthia and Paul, “I like this one! This one is precious.”

I felt my cheeks redden, “What you remember from before. Such as what you can recall from before you died.”

Luke turned back to me, “I know what you mean, Jodie Foster, I’m simply relishing the moment,” he took a deep breath and sat down opposite me on his bed, tucking his foot under him, “What do you want to know,” he seemed to remember about the other two and motioned for them to sit down, “I don’t have a settee but you can pull up a toilet.”

They slowly came in and found places on the floor to listen. Everyone’s attention was on me, if only I knew where to start. “Let’s begin with what you did? What was your job before all of this happened?”

Luke smiled, “Working under Karl Lagerfeld in his offices in New York,” my face must have been blank because he rolled his eyes and explained, “He’s like only one of the world’s greatest fashion designers ever. I mean the man is a genius in everything he puts his hands on.”

“So…you’re a fashion designer?”

Cynthia sighed, “That explains so much.”

“Honey, I might be gay,” Luke said holding up one finger to her, “but I look good while I walk down Broadway. I wish I could say the same about you. We could always try some cover up or maybe even-“

“Luke,” I cut in, attempting to save Cynthia from further advice, “may we continue.”

“Sure, Jodie, let go on.”

“It’s…Oli- never mind,” I shook my head, biting back a smile, “Okay so…what about family or any other loved ones?”

Luke shook his head, “Nope, sadly I have no one to look for me. No parents anymore and no boyfriend…though I must admit it’s not for lack of trying.”

I chuckled before turning to Cynthia. It was time to flip the tables and see what came out of it. “Cynthia,” she snapped her head up, “You said that you were a dancer, that’s what you told my boss, what kind of dancer?”

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes glared at me again, “I wasn’t one of those sluts if that’s what you mean.”

“I don’t think I know what you mean. I’m just asking you what kind of dancer you were…there are a lot of different kind of dancers.”

“That’s very true,” Luke jumped in, “There are Latin dancers, Hip hop dancers, Jazz dancers, Broadway dancers-“

“I get it,” Cynthia snapped sullenly, “I was a ballet dancer.”

I leaned forward, “Really?”

She nodded, “I…went to Julliard,” she blushed, “I practiced and practiced my whole life to get into that school.”

Luke made a whistling sound and even Paul leaned closer to her in anticipation. I wet my lips, “So…what happened?” I prompted.

She sighed, “I was coming home late…I still lived with my mother, and it was slippery. I don’t know if I was pushed…I lived in New York all of my life and never missed a step, but that night I did. That night I slipped, I don’t remember anything else.”

We sat in silence for a moment, a very long moment, and then Luke turned to Paul, “What about you handsome? What did you do out there in the real world?”

Paul shrugged, “I was a historian.”

Luke made a sound, “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

I smiled, at least someone liked our little therapy session, “What kind of historian?”

“Mostly studied witchcraft, trial and the like, from specific points in Europe,” Luke looked at him blankly, “You know like the trials by ordeals in the high middle ages or the study of the Malleus Maleficarium by Kramer and Sprenger.”

“Springer?” Luke purred, “Like Jerry Springer?”

Paul looked at him wide eyed, “No. Sprenger…like the German monk of 1487.”

Luke made a face, “Bet he could use some moisturizer.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it and I wasn’t the only one. Cynthia was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her cheeks. We looked from Paul to Luke and back again, but there perplexed faces only made it worst. I laughed until my stomach cramped but Cynthia continued on, moaning about the pain between bits of laughter. It was a good sound and it echoed down the hall and bounced back to us, I almost wished Julianne could’ve heard it. “Why are you asking all of these questions, Olivia,” Paul asked when I had finally calmed down enough to hear him.

I wiped a stray tear from my cheek but it was Cynthia who answered, “Maybe she wanted a history lesson,” which through her into more fits of laughter, Paul blushed.

But I shook my head, “No,” I chuckled, “I just had to know …I felt as if I needed to know.”

“Needed to know what,” Luke said in a strangely formal tone, “I know when something doesn’t smell right…fashion designer doesn’t mean dumb just because I appreciate capped sleeves.”

I blinked up at him; I was going to have to read more fashion magazines to keep up with him, “I needed to know if there was something I should know about any of you. Julianne wanted you six alive for a reason…I just need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

Cynthia stopped laughing, she looked at me wearily again, her cheeks still wet from her tears of joy. Paul nodded his understanding and Luke bit his lip, “Could it just be,” Luke said, “That we were successful? I mean there were others…maybe they just didn’t work.”

“Stop talking about them like that,” Cynthia snapped, “they were people too.”

Luke rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I think I got that, what I mean is we were all given something. They were probably all given something too but it didn’t take as well.”

Cynthia scoffed, but then she paused thinking, “What were you given?”

Luke smiled a bright smile. I waited for him to say anything, something, but one minute he was there and the next minute he was gone. I jumped up off the bed, “Luke!”

“I’m still here, Jodie, don’t worry your pretty little head,” came a voice from where Luke had been sitting just moments before, I felt the blood drain from my face.

I watched closely as he reappeared in the same spot, “Impossible,” I murmured, he just shrugged.

Paul snapped his fingers and the same tiny flame that I had seen jump onto his finger all those days ago in the lab appeared. Cynthia watched them both with open astonishment but I watched her, “What about you,” I asked her, fearing what she would show us, “What can you do?”

She shifted her gaze from Paul’s flame to me and gulped. I don’t think I would have ever been prepared for what happened next. She looked at me with her glazed eyes, frightened, as if she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to show us. But then everything changed. Her eyes began to grow until they took up most of her face, they began to sparkle and glow a golden brown. Her face morphed into something like a snout and her teeth were bared in a fierce snarl. Her hands became more like claws and her finger nails grew three inches before my eyes. Paul slowly scooted away from her ever so slowly.

Luke clicked his tongue, “Now you really need a haircut.”

It wasn’t meant to be funny; it was more of just something to say to fill up the silence. I was grateful for it. I grabbed onto it as if it was a life boat and hung on for dear life. “Cynthia?”

The creature that lay before me looked up at me once again and cocked it’s head, “Cynthia,” I repeated, “Can you please come back to us? Can you please change back?”

Slowly the process began again, but this time it revealed the body I had come to rely on. I let out a slow breath. Cynthia’s shoulders slumped as she settled back into her place on the floor, “Hideous isn’t it.”

“Yes,” Luke said immediately.

“No,” I snapped, shooting him a glare, he only shrugged, “It’s very different…”

“That’s one way to put it,” she murmured.

“Well,” I cut in before the conversation could take a turn for the worst, “I say I get you back to your rooms and we do this again tomorrow night.”

They all looked at me as if I had grown an extra head; I just looked back at them smiling. “You want to do this again,” Cynthia exclaimed.

“I wasn’t just doing this for kicks, Cynthia.”

“Yay! I’m totally okay with this,” exclaimed Luke, “I mean, not offence to my white walls but actual conversations do wonders for your face. You know…sagging.”

We all looked at him; I nodded as if I understood any of that, “So it’s decided. We’ll meet again tomorrow night, but in 872’s room.”

And so it began. I wasn’t exactly sure what I had started, to be honest it was more like a therapy group then an actual plan, but I was willing to see it out to the end. I just hope that everyone else was willing to come with me.

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