Chapter 8 #2
“Some people have even more severe responses. One of our guys, Ezra, he’ll get a migraine from watching the camera feed for even a few seconds.
He fainted once when he was in a hallway nearby during an episode.
Got a nosebleed from the last one the moment he walked through the front door.
But he’s a unique case. He’s…” He hesitates. “Sensitive to unusual phenomenon.”
“And what about you?”
He glances up at the screen. “Other than you, I’ve been the most resistant to X-16’s side effects so far.
I’m fine around him, other than during his episodes.
” Something unreadable flickers across his expression.
“I used to be able to handle the episodes, too. This was the first time I couldn’t reach him. If you hadn’t been there…”
I belatedly realize what that glimpse of emotion was. Guilt. He must feel like he failed X-16 during this last episode. It also gives more context as to why he’s so reluctant to let me help like this—he must think that he should be able to do it himself.
I’ve always been reluctant to trust Barnes. To trust anybody, really. But today I feel like I’m starting to understand him.
“But I was there,” I say firmly. I shut off the camera feed for whoever comes into the room next and climb to my feet.
Despite Barnes’s obvious mixed feelings, the revelation only makes me more determined to push forward.
To prove that I can do this. I’ll take some of the weight from his shoulders. “What’s next?”
What’s next, it turns out, is another long and uneventful wait in the observation room, watching X-16 through the glass. First with the privacy screen on, and then with both of us being able to see each other through the glass.
It’s my first time seeing X-16 since I sedated him during his episode.
It’s a relief to see him conscious and well, though he still seems uncomfortable.
He fidgets with his clothes, one leg jumping in a nervous tic.
He keeps tugging at one sleeve, reminding me of what Barnes said about him growing an extra eye. I am undeniably curious.
Afterward, Barnes asks me all the same questions, and I give the same response again and again. No headache. No dizziness.
No side effects whatsoever, again.
I shut off the intercom and spin my chair toward where Barnes stands watching. “So?” I ask, trying not to sound too impatient. “Can I go into his cell?”
Barnes hesitates, lowering the clipboard. “I was going to wait until tomorrow,” he says. “We don’t want to risk compounding side effects—”
“What side effects?” I hold out my hands.
“I’m fine.” When he hesitates, I continue, “He could have an episode tomorrow, and we’d be forced to face it without knowing if I’m really immune.
We should take the opportunity to explore while we can.
” I stand my ground, studying his face. “Barnes. The next episode will be even stronger than the last. This could help prevent our team from getting hurt.”
Barnes sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. He leans over to hit the intercom again. “X-16, if it’s all right with you, we’d like to come into the cell now.”
X-16’s head rises where he sits on the edge of the bed. A dozen emotions flit over his face in a matter of seconds. “You and Willow? In the cell?”
“Yeah. That’s our next test to check her response to you.”
After a moment’s hesitation, X-16 nods.
I asked for this, but my heart is pounding as we walk over to the door to his cell. This will be my first time being face-to-face with X-16 other than when I subdued him in the midst of his episode. Barnes has to swipe his own key card to open the door; it’s too high clearance for me.
X-16 always takes such effort to make himself smaller.
It’s easy to forget how big he is. But now that I’m standing in the same room as him, it’s impossible to ignore how tall he really is.
When he pushes up from the bed to get to his feet, I realize he’s just as tall as Hunter is, maybe even taller.
He must be pushing six foot five, bigger than I remember him being during his episode.
And while he always seems shockingly human from afar, there is an unmistakable otherness about him up close.
It isn’t just that I can clearly see the third eye on his forehead, but a sort of aura that surrounds him.
A pressure that swells to fill the room.
Judging from the new tension in Barnes’s posture, he can feel it too. Perhaps even more strongly than I can.
I swallow back a sudden rush of nerves at the reminder that I am dealing with something I don’t fully understand. I recall all of Barnes’s warnings about the danger that X-16 poses.
Yet, as he stands beside his bed, hands folded behind his back, shoulders slouched like he’s trying to make himself smaller, he looks far more like a man than a monster.
Barnes keeps his body angled between us and never takes his eyes off X-16, even as he speaks to me. “Willow, how do you feel?”
I hesitate. I’m tempted to lie, but I don’t want to give Barnes and the higher-ups any reason to doubt the validity of the test. “I feel a pressure in the air. My heart’s beating fast. But it’s not overwhelming.”
X-16 glances at me and then back at Barnes. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and stops as Barnes flinches.
I focus on the back of the security guard’s head.
A bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck, and the pen in his hand trembles slightly as he takes notes.
He’s scared. He said he’s fine when X-16 isn’t having an episode, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
It’s gotten worse, which makes it more important than ever for me to succeed.
When I glance back at X-16, all three of his eyes are locked on mine. A shiver runs through me, but I hold his gaze.
Breathe, I tell myself. Just breathe. I force air into my lungs, let it out slowly, and the tightness in my chest eases.
After a moment, I take a step to the side, letting myself be in X-16’s direct line of sight instead of hiding behind Barnes.
X-16 straightens up ever so slightly, watching me. He looks at Barnes like he’s waiting for an admonishment from the security guard, but Barnes is silent, so X-16 turns his attention back to me.
I can feel his eyes like a physical weight.
It’s so strange, to have my body respond against my own better judgment—I can feel my muscles tensing, heart pumping, breath catching.
Something deep inside telling me I’m in danger, as though I’m in the room with a tiger instead of a man.
My body reacts as though someone has aimed a gun in my direction even though it’s just X-16’s curious gaze.
I force myself to take a step forward. And then another.
“Hawkins,” Barnes warns. “Take it slow.”
“I know,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off X-16. Last time I was this close to him, I didn’t have a chance to get a good look.
He tilts his head to look down at me, and I study him right back. The shadows beneath his eyes, the silky spill of dark hair across his forehead, his unblinking third eye.
I’m not afraid, I tell myself, even as my mind flashes back to his episode. Vince’s bloody face as they hauled his body away, Ellis banging his head against the wall, Barnes trembling and helpless.
X-16 killed Vince. He killed the last head of security. He’s killed so many people.
It’s not his fault.
I’m not afraid.
I extend a hand.
X-16 recoils. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and his eyes flick behind me to check with Barnes. “You can’t,” he says weakly. “It’s dangerous.”
“I promise it’s all right,” I say. Barnes says nothing, but he’s watching, I’m sure.
X-16 meets my eyes and—with obvious trepidation—leans closer. Closer. His hand hesitantly rises to move toward mine.
I stay still, like I’m dealing with a frightened animal who might spook if I move. And finally, his fingers brush mine. It’s the briefest touch before he pulls away, his eyes darting all over my face in search of a reaction.
“I’m fine, X-16,” I say.
He hesitates. Nods as if to himself. And lays his hand on mine, palm to palm.
His skin is surprisingly warm, almost hot to the touch. I can feel raised skin on his palm, the puckering of an old scar. I wrap my fingers around his hand and squeeze, and he sucks in a startled breath.
“It’s really fine,” he says, sounding a bit winded. “You’re fine?”
I nod. My mouth is dry, my heart thumping in my ears for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on. It isn’t particularly intimate, our fingers aren’t even interlaced, yet…
“Is this strange for you?” I ask. My voice is low; it feels like this moment should be hushed, somehow.
“Strange?” His voice is similarly quiet. “…No. Not a word I would use.”
“What word would you use, then?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think I have any words to do it justice.”
We both look down at our hands. His is huge against mine, his fingers long and pale and spindly, and I can feel him trembling slightly.
“Hawkins?” Barnes’s voice is jarring; I had almost forgotten that he’s here, and what we’re doing. “I think that’s enough for our test.”
I release X-16’s hand almost guiltily and take a step back, folding my arms over my chest. X-16’s hand falls to his side, palm out, fingers twitching as if feeling a ghost of sensation. He stares down at his own palm.
“I’m good,” I say, turning to Barnes. “I don’t feel anything.” It’s not exactly true. My heart is still beating a rapid-fire rhythm and my mouth is dry.
“Okay.” Barnes tucks the clipboard under his arm and gives me a curt nod.
“I say we call it a day. I think I’ve got enough info for Director Wright, and I’ll let her go through the notes and the video recordings to make the final call.
” His face is a shade paler than normal, beads of sweat dotting his hairline; it’s clear that he’s more affected than he wants to let on.
As we head for the door, my eyes dart back to X-16 one final time, not knowing when we’ll be face-to-face again. I find him already looking at me with those fathomless red eyes. So strange, so unreadable, so…strangely human, up this close.
I want to save him, I tell myself. That’s all I feel, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
But as I leave the cell, my hand tingles with the memory of his touch.