Collide (The Solomon Experiments Book 1) Read online

  I ignore the innuendo and turn to Josh. “If we’re stuck here until tomorrow, then I want to use the time wisely. Both of you need to tell me what you know and why you remember more than I do.”

  Josh fidgets with his hands and my apprehension grows alongside his.

  “Tell me.” I say to both of them. “I can handle it. Josh, you said we were involved in psychic experiments?”

  Josh nods. “Yes.” The word spills from his mouth like poison.

  “Have you ever heard of Project Stargate?” David takes over the story, again reaching for my hand.

  “You mean the psychic spy stuff from the 70’s?” I always felt like there was more truth to those stories than the history books let on.

  “It actually started earlier than that, but yes.”

  “We were somehow involved in that stuff?”

  “More or less, yes,” Josh says.

  “Knock it off, Josh!” I can’t contain my frustration any longer. “Don’t give me this ‘more or less’ crap. Tell me what’s going on.” Anger creeps up my spine.

  “Dakota, calm down.” Josh places his hand on my back.

  “No! Tell me what Project Stargate has to do with us.” I stare at both Josh and David, willing the answers to come forward.

  They clench their jaw, grinding their teeth as I force the truth from their minds. Flashes of thoughts, not my own, stream behind my eyes. “New recruits.” “Train them to spy.” “Train them for more.” Familiar images join their voices in my head. Five children. Experiments. Objects hovering in the air. Maps of unseen rooms drawn with perfect precision. People mentally manipulated to our whims.

  “We were part of the psychic espionage? Part of Project Stargate?” My eyes never leave Josh.

  “Not that project, no,” David says.

  “What then?”

  Josh looks down and swallows. “Mom and Dad believed all the psychic stuff was the key to winning the cold war; every war. They told me they included us in their work.”

  “Their work?”

  “We were supposed to learn how to use our natural gifts. Nothing else.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We, the five recruits, were born with psychic gifts, Dakota. Though I suspect yours was, is, much stronger than any of ours. The government wanted to train us.”

  A cold shiver brushes across my skin. “Mom and Dad let them experiment? On us?”

  “Yeah.”

  His voice slaps me hard across the face. Anger and fear mix in equal proportion, all aimed at my parents. “That’s why we’re in protective custody, isn’t it? Something went wrong.”

  “We don’t know,” David says. “Josh and I don’t remember anything bad happening. Most of our memories from that time are good.” David fixes his gaze on me. “Very good.”

  “Are you sure?” I pause, wrestling with the question still lodged in my throat. I face Josh. “Are you sure I didn’t do something . . . bad?”

  “No,” the boys say in unison.

  “I refuse to believe any of us are capable of anything like the visions you’ve been having.” Josh takes my hand and smiles.

  “Visions?” David asks.

  “She sees people’s deaths. They started out as random incidents when we were younger. But in the last few days, they seem more personal. A Doctor. Mari.”

  Hearing Josh talk about my visions makes me feel even crazier, if that’s possible. And even though he denies it, I know I’m the cause of Mom and Dad’s disappearance, Mari’s death. Everything.

  “What happened during those experiments?” I whisper. “We need to figure it out.”

  “Mom and Dad stopped trusting the other researchers. They told me that when they tried to pull us out of the project, the CIA prevented it. So they turned to the FBI and told them about the experiments. We were all placed in WITSEC the next day.”

  “Ten years ago?”

  “Yeah. You were six. I didn’t know any of us wound up in the same area until I saw David.”

  “Why did you wait to say something? Why can’t I remember it the way you can?”

  “I didn’t remember anything until a few years ago,” Josh says.

  “Neither did I.” David fixes his vision only on me, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not until Josh passed me in the Coffee Shake. You have to believe me.”

  I can’t respond, the words stuck too far in my throat to form.

  “I still don’t remember most of the year we spent at the lab,” David says. Just a few memories of Josh. And you.”

  Another chill covers my skin and I turn away, desperate to hide my reaction to him.

  “Do you remember anything else, Josh?” David asks, still staring only at me.

  Josh shakes his head.

  “I remember several glass-enclosed labs,” I whisper. “ And a house, our house.” The mental pictures refuse to focus for me.

  “Yes,” Josh says. “We were there for about year, near as I can tell. Mom and Dad wouldn’t tell me anything other than they had to keep us—all of us—safe. I’m hoping to get more out of them this time.”

  Assuming they’re alive to tell us.

  JOSH AND DAVID CONTINUE TO TALK, RECOUNTING THE VARIOUS MEMORIES OF OUR LIFE IN THE LAB. I can’t take it in. The words spin around me until I’m dizzy. “I need a shower. Do you mind?”

  Josh tilts his head in surprise.

  “No problem,” David says. “Top of the stairs and to the left.”

  “Thanks,” I say, ignoring them both.

  The water is hot against my skin as it pounds into my back, my shoulders, my arms. Relief comes quickly. But not peace. I can’t stop thinking about Mom and Dad, the gunmen, and everything Josh and David remember.

  Psychic experiments.

  Paranormal activity would explain the visions and the voices. Not to mention why things literally start flying whenever I get mad.

  I lather up my body and hair, picturing the soap as it floats out of my hands and hovers for a moment before scraping the tile. In seconds, the bar loosens itself from my grip with a tug. I watch as it mimics my mental imagery. A smile forms across my lips as the soap dances around the shower, obeying my every thought. So natural, good.

  Ominous.

  I focus solely on the soap as the water begins to heat even more. I never acknowledge the burning sensation on my skin, or the steam that fills the room. The soap continues to dance while scalding water turns my skin a blistering red.

  “Leave some for the rest of us,” Josh yells from the other side of the door.

  My vision shifts to the door and back. The soap falls hard against the tile.

  “Dakota? You okay?”

  A scream escapes my lips as I finally feel the water as it burns through my flesh.

  “Dakota!” Josh pounds against the door.

  I turn the hot water nozzle to Off before my skin falls off completely. “It’s . . . okay,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.” More or less.

  I step from the shower and gingerly cover my blistering flesh in a towel. More pain rips though my body every time the fabric rubs against me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I dropped the soap. Be out in a sec.”

  Josh clumps down the hall and I release a harsh breath. My red skin prickles in the steamy air.

  What the heck just happened?

  Confused, I run my fingers across the mirror to clear away the mist and fog. A gasp escapes my mouth. The image of a girl, dark and wild, fades into the disappearing steam. I spin around. Nothing. No one is in the room but me.

  And thoughts too crazy to ignore.

  I release a strangled breath. Relax, I tell myself, mimicking Josh’s words as best as I can. Just calm yourself. My mind refuses to comply and I dress, more unnerved than ever.

  “I see you felt you needed to sterilize your skin,” Josh jokes as I walk down the hall to the bedroom David has set up for me.

  “Nothing like a hot shower to wash away
the stress,” I say back.

  If only.

  Night descends and the rain pounds against the landscape with a vengeance. Everything feels ominous and foreboding – like the visions that come faster and faster. I haven’t mentioned anything more about them to Josh; I don’t want him to worry about me. The images are all the same, movie fragments of the lab Josh says we shared for nearly a year of our lives. I don’t understand why I can’t remember more, why I’ve got nothing but these stupid echoes of a life just out of reach. Josh remembers that life. Even David seems to know more than me.

  My mind shifts to my parents as I move to the bed and sit. Can they possibly be okay? My eyes float up and close. Darkness fills my vision for only a moment before new shapes emerge, unfocused. A room with no windows and bars over the door. An unrecognizable shape is huddled in the corner, shaking. I focus on the blurred mass. The image sharpens enough to reveal skin covered in a combination of mud and crusted blood. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman. Only that he or she is in trouble. The scene moves and shifts as a new vision forms from the haze, taking me back to my childhood . . .

  Sun streams through a skylight far above me, casting golden beams onto a padded floor. Josh and David are on the center of the mat, their backs to each other. Two men in lab coats, familiar and yet unknown, stand to the side, clipboards in hand.

  “You ready,” Josh says.

  “Was there any doubt?” David’s voice sends chills through me even in my dreams.

  In a split second, objects that resemble tennis balls fly through the air, poised to smash into Josh and David. They raise their hands and crush each ball before it reaches them.

  “Ha! You’ve gotta do better than that if you want to beat us,” Josh smirks.

  I turn and look at the researchers. They nod toward me and my eyes close. Emptiness comes, followed by the image of the boys lying on the mat, their skin scratched and dotted with bruises. My eyes spring open. Two large balls fly across the room, cycloning around the boys before smashing into their shoulders and faces.

  “Dang, Dakota.” David falls to the ground as a bruise begins to form. “Couldn’t you have avoided our faces?”

  Josh laughs as he clutches in chin. “Good one!”

  More balls materialize and pound into the boys, over and over until their bodies resemble old punching bags. The boys yell at me to stop, the playful tones gone from their voices. I don’t listen. I never listen. Instead, I send more balls to strike them, bruise them, bloody them.

  Well done, one of the researchers speaks through my thoughts. I am very proud of you.

  I look toward him before staring back at the boys’ battered bodies. They again plead for me to stop and I walk out of the room in silence, a faint smile hinting on my lips.

  I WAKE TO THE SOUND OF SCREAMING, MY SCREAMING. The door flies open and David is next to me before I can process what’s happening. My body shakes. Emotions I ignore settle around me—excitement as a power, my power, surges through the strained memories; fear for what I don’t understand; desire for the young man standing too close.

  “I’m okay,” I say.

  “Liar.” David sits on the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to stay?”

  I sit up. Part of me wants to resume where we left off last December, until I remember that he left me. Without a word. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “So this is how it’s going to be between us now?”

  “You left me.” I get up and walk across the room. The rain falls harder now, pounding against the window sill in random rhythms.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “We always have choices.”

  “Not this time.” David’s breath is hot against my back as he grabs my shoulders. “Not when staying could put you in danger.” He brushes his lips against my ear. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  I can’t afford to believe him.

  “Whatever.” I wiggle out of his grasp and cross the room again, hoping the distance will clear my head. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “How could I? You didn’t remember me.”

  David’s expression confesses more secrets. My throat burns as anger and longing well deep inside. Lamps and pictures shake with the emotions I can’t quell.

  David steps closer and grabs my arm. “You’re keeping secrets too,” he says as a picture crashes to the ground.

  I shake him loose again and take a step back. “Don’t touch me,” I whisper. The lamp falls to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me. You just need to control your emotions.”

  My brow furrows. The wall shakes harder. Josh bounds into the room, yelling my name.

  “She’s okay,” David says, his eyes never leaving mine. “She’s just scared.”

  “Dakota?”

  “Get out of here. Both of you. Please.” Fear laces every word.

  Images ripped from the dream circle my thoughts, fragmented memories of me trying to hurt them while crazy scientists take meticulous notes. The person in those images had no problem hurting others. In fact, she liked it.

  I liked it.

  “I’m not leaving,” Josh says as he looks over me to David.

  “You have to,” I beg.

  Josh pushes David out of the room as the door slams shut. “You aren’t going to hurt me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s not in you to hurt people.”

  My mind opens and fears I’ve never been willing to speak come pouring from my lips, the inexplicable deaths constantly in my dreams, the doctor’s murder that started my slide into a world I don’t understand, Mari’s death—I witnessed all of them. From the killer’s point of view.

  Maybe that killer was me.

  “You would never hurt me,” Josh says again.

  I remember the dream, the way Josh and David fell to the ground as ball after ball pounded their bodies, leaving them unconscious. “I already have.”

  “You’re not a killer.”

  “How can you be certain? Every fragment I have of my childhood takes me back to a lab, to paranormal crap that goes way beyond clairvoyance and telekinesis. Something happened to us there, something wrong.” The walls continue to shake, sending more pictures to the floor. A large crack spreads across the plaster.

  Josh steps closer, another promise that I’m not to blame poised on his lips.

  “I am,” I whisper. The cracks continue to form in the walls and I wonder how long it will be before the room collapses altogether.

  “Relax, like you did in the car.”

  “I can’t. Please, get out before I hurt you.”

  “I’m not leaving.” Josh takes my hand in his. “Focus on my words, Dakota.”

  I can’t hear anything now except the sound of the walls as they continue to shake and crack.

  Dakota. You’re not a killer. You can control this.

  His words focus me.

  Good. Listen to my voice. Let the fear go.

  I take a deep breath as more images of the lab, the dream, ram through my thoughts. Josh senses them too and his hesitation passes over his mind.

  “I told you. This is my fault.” I stare at the floor as the world I know continues to implode.

  “I refuse to believe your gifts are bad.” Josh takes my chin and forces my eyes to his. You can control your abilities. I promise.

  Tears fill my eyes as I listen to every word. Hot liquid spills over and slides down my cheeks.

  That a girl. Keep going. Settle your mind.

  The walls stop shaking as my emotions subside. I release a stiff breath and collapse in Josh’s arms. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “You aren’t capable of killing, Dakota. I’m certain.”

  I’m not so sure. I only stopped because of Josh.

  What happens the next time, when you’re not around?

  MORNING COMES IN A HAZE OF BOTH CONFUSION AND DETERMINATION. I pace the kitchen, ready
to leave, find Maya and get to Mom and Dad. The images of the person in the cell aren’t far from my thoughts. I know the vision is related, somehow.

  “Let’s go,” I yell to the boys.

  “Geez, Dakota. Chill.” David stands in the doorway dressed in jeans and a too-tight t-shirt and my heart skips for a moment. “We’re loading up the car. I wasn’t expecting to just get up and leave everything again.” His face screams the accusations poised on my tongue. “Bad choice of words,” he mumbles.

  “No kidding!”

  “I already said I’m sorry.” He takes a step closer to me. “Can’t we get past this?”

  I take a quick breath, trying to ignore the heady pine scent on his skin and the way he can see straight into my soul. I swallow back the rising tide of emotion. “I told you, I’m fine. Whatever.” I turn and walk outside before he can debate it further.

  Josh is already at the car, loading in his backpack. “Here, I’ll drive again, you navigate,” he says as he tosses the map to me.

  I glance at the map, staring at the picture paper-clipped next to the fold. “Do you remember her?” I ask.

  “I do.” David comes up behind me fast, sending a fresh shiver down my spine. I turn to glare and notice the smile in his eyes.

  Stupid boys.

  “She used to follow Josh around like a little puppy.” David laughed as he climbed into the backseat. “She had such a crush.”

  “I don’t remember that at all,” Josh says as we both get in the car. “Do you remember her?”

  I stare at the picture, noting the curve of Maya’s face, the dark glow of her skin and the golden flecks in her otherwise black eyes. “A little, maybe.” Images begin to poke up through my unconscious thoughts. “She liked to laugh.”

  The images coalesce, forming the now-familiar picture of a sterile lab, shiny stainless steel tables, and lines of toys and peg boards. Maya twirls around the lab throwing toys toward me. Each time the toys hover in the air in front of me before slowly lowering to the ground. Maya smiles and laughs and begs me to do it again. Her enthusiasm is contagious and I find myself missing her and the childhood I scarcely remember. At least, some parts.