CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Thanks for coming back to get us, Chipper,” said Mav. “We didn’t realize there was going to be an entire cargo hold of stuff to get home.”
“It’s no problem,” smiled the older man. “In fact, I think I have a surprise for you, fellas. While I was coming back, air traffic was a bit busy in the area, so I had to reroute. I flew over something you might like to see.”
He nodded toward the windows, and the men leaned to the right side of the bird. Below them, hidden beneath a canopy of trees that were now bare because of the winter, was an identical building to the one they’d just explored.
“Fuck me,” muttered Pax. “Can we get down there?”
“You remember how to repel, don’t you?” smirked Chipper.
“It’s like fifteen degrees out there!” said Brax. Chipper just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Suit up. I can’t stay hidden forever. Well, I can. I just don’t want to.”
While the men suited up in their winter gear, Chipper found the perfect spot for them to repel into the area. Unlike the previous location, there didn’t seem to be any alarms or cameras.
“It’s like they took a cookie-cutter and made this campus,” said Saint. The others nodded as they let the ropes go and watched as Chipper took off to find a place to sit for a while.
“Yeah, but this one doesn’t have any locks on the outside. It also looks strange.”
“Strange how?” frowned Saint, staring at Mav.
“I don’t know.”
He opened the front doors and pushed, leading into the open entryway. He turned to the right to see the library as a gust of cold wind blew in snow and dead leaves. Something moved in the library, and he slowly walked into the room.
“It’s a fake,” he whispered. “It’s all fake. The books are drapes. It’s nothing but a printed tarp. The furniture is fake too.” He lifted a chair with one hand. It was painted cardboard.
“They used this when they moved the girls,” said Brax. He took off up the stairs to the dorm level and moved from room to room as the others followed. The beds were real but of a lesser quality. On the third floor were the classrooms, but they were completely empty.
“They held those girls here for a while,” said Pax. “I’m going to bet they kept them drugged until they could find somewhere else to take them. This is what, thirty or forty miles from the other place. Far enough to feel different to them. There’s no lake, no trails that I can see.”
“My GPS says it’s Wellington, Maine,” said Saint, frowning at the group. “Why on earth would you build a semi-dummy version of the same structure thirty miles away? Why not just load them up and move them to wherever you were taking them?”
“Maybe that’s just it. Maybe they didn’t know where to take them,” said Pax, looking around the classroom. They walked out and downstairs once again in search of the kitchens. If there was a fully functioning kitchen, that meant that they were kept there long enough to at least have meals.
“Nothing. No appliances, no pot, pans, dishes, nothing.”
“This was a stop-over,” said Saint. He held up a syringe, the needle still on it with the needle cover. He wrapped it in a bag and tucked it in his backpack. “They kept those kids drugged until they could get them to where they wanted them.”
They heard shuffling behind them and turned to see a young woman wrapped in an oversized coat and stocking cap. She held a weapon in her hand, rusted but damn sure loaded. The pistol looked to be older than she was.
“Leave us alone,” she whispered. They all held up their hands, shaking their heads.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” said Mav. “We’re here to help you. We have a company where three girls who were here at one time now live. Do you remember the names Victoria, Chelsea, or Katelyn? Maybe the name Marilisa?”
The girl frowned at him, her brows knitting together. She didn’t appear to be any older than fourteen or fifteen, but it was difficult to tell with all the clothes on her.
“Listen, I swear to you, we don’t want to hurt you. We want to keep you safe. This school and the one a few miles from here was run by the CIA. They were training geniuses to do their work,” said Saint softly.
“They weren’t training us. They were creating us,” she whispered.
“Creating you? Creating you to do their work, right?” She shook her head.
“Are you with them?”
“No. No, we’re not,” said Mav. “My name is Maverick. These are my friends, Saint, Pax, and Brax. Did you know the names of any of those girls?”
“K-Katelyn,” she whispered. Her hands were shaking, and she looked at them, almost pleading for help.
“What’s your name?” asked Brax, taking a step toward her.
“Brax,” whispered his brother. He held up a hand.
“I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asked again.
“S-Stephanie.”
“Stephanie. That’s a beautiful name. We don’t want to hurt you. You’re cold, and I bet you’re hungry,” he said calmly. “Are there others with you?”
“No. No, they all left. I-It’s coming,” she stuttered.
“What’s coming, honey?” asked Brax. He didn’t have to ask again. The pistol fell out of her hand, crashing to the floor. They were lucky it didn’t fire. She began seizing, her head hitting the hardwood floors. Brax immediately slid toward her, bracing her head against his thighs.
“Chipper? We need you now!” yelled Mav. “I need you to land behind this damn building. We’ve got an injured girl.”
“Stay with me, honey,” whispered Brax. He’d turned her on her side, gently holding her. When the others signaled that Chipper had landed, he easily lifted her, cursing beneath his breath.
“What’s wrong?” asked Pax.
“She can’t weigh more than eighty pounds,” he frowned.
Chipper turned to see the ashen face of the young girl. When they were on board, he closed the door and immediately took off at top speed. Mav grabbed the medical kit while Pax extended the seat to a bed. The coat was so pathetic Brax took the scissors to it to open it. He stared down at the prone body, then pushed back her ski cap.
“What’s wrong?” asked Saint, walking toward him with water and towels.
“This isn’t a child,” said Brax, staring at her. “She doesn’t weigh more than a child, but she’s an adult.”
There was no doubt. The curve of her body, the full sweeping roundness of her breasts, told them everything they needed to know. This was an adult woman. A tiny, frail, under-nourished adult woman.
By the time they reached Belle Fleur, the medical team was waiting at the runway. Cruz lifted the girl and took her down the steps, laying her gently on the gurney.
“She hasn’t woken,” said Brax, staring at her. “She convulsed, had a seizure, and didn’t wake.”
“She’s alive, honey,” said Gabi. “Let us figure this out.”
Katelyn, Marilisa, Victoria, and Chelsea all came to the clinic immediately, wanting to know if they recognized the young woman. While Ajei and Kelsey got her clean, Cruz and Doc ran blood work, x-rays, and everything else that Gabi and Riley ordered.
Five hours of waiting, only to see the most somber faces they’d ever seen walk toward them.
“Is she alright?” asked Brax.
“She’s alive. She’ll live,” said Gabi.
“Good. That’s good. What aren’t you telling us? I mean, she’s just a young girl who needs to eat and maybe take some meds, right?”
“Yes.” Gabi stared at him. “No.”
“Well, what is it, Gabi? Yes or no?” asked Saint. Gabi, Riley, Doc, and Cruz stared at one another.
“She’s a clone.”