Project Renovatio (13 page)

When everyone quieted, he raised his arms. “Welcome. Welcome to all of you.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “It has been a long day of waiting, but you’re all finally here.” The man sounded exhausted or relieved. Rana couldn’t decide which.

“My name is Peter. I’ve been a part of Project Renovatio from the beginning. In fact, my work resulted in many of you being born.” He scanned the audience. “We’ve worked to get you all together for nearly six months. The method, of course, presented a challenge. We didn’t want to just . . .
send
invitations. You are special. You are bright. The way in which you arrived had to be unique.”

“You tricked us,” a young man near the stage yelled.

“Yes, we did. In receiving the letters, those of you who didn’t know about the Project would have to learn, and you would all have a strong reason to come here at the same time. We let you wait in the rooms long enough for you to challenge us. We wanted to see how long it would take, so we know how to handle you in the future.” He looked towards Rana and Levin. “For some of you, it didn’t take very long.” He grinned, nodded, then turned his attention to the group.

Rana whispered to Levin, “That’s not why we’re here. I think he knows it.”

“Of course he does.”

Peter continued, “It’s my pleasure to introduce you to someone else, someone very important to our vision. He will explain the rest.” Peter held his arm towards the door, and everyone turned their heads.

Rana gasped when Scott entered the room and approached the stage.

Chapter Nineteen

Levin sat up straighter. “What the hell?” Aside from those who had been in the third floor waiting room, the audience appeared oblivious to the significance of Scott’s presence.

Scott joined Peter on the stage. Peter shook Scott’s hand and retreated to the floor. Scott wore a wide smile. “Thank you, Peter. I know some of you are surprised to see me here.” He looked at the corner where Levin sat with his brothers and their siblings then turned his attention to the middle of the group.

A foul taste sat in the back of Levin’s throat, and his stomach turned. He’d mindlessly allowed himself and all of his siblings to be fooled.

“For the rest of you, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Scott. Like you, I am a child of Project Renovatio, and I am the lead in this current project of bringing you all together.” He paced on the stage. “You see, we believe if you–we–join forces, combine our intelligence and strength, well…” He glanced at his shoes and chuckled.

“Let me start over. We are on a journey, a journey towards dominance, and it starts today. If we execute our plan the way we expect, our children and grandchildren will want for nothing. The creators of Project Renovatio designed us to build our own society. To rule. And we’re finally in the position to fill that purpose.” He scanned the crowd and lifted his chin a little. “You represent a fourth of all PR kids. Three other groups like you are meeting in other locations. Soon, we will bring everyone together.” He smiled. “Our ability to survive in less than favorable circumstances will make us unstoppable.”

Levin clenched his fist and breathed harder the longer Scott spoke. How could Scott’s plan combined with this group in this place result in a positive outcome? Surely, no one would join Scott, and in that case, how would they get out of here?

He glanced at the door. One of the large men stood guard in front of it, holding the shotgun.

Scott preached to a captive audience.

“It has been an interesting time, organizing and eagerly awaiting this moment. Some of us suffered injury in the pursuit of our goal.” Scott rolled the right sleeve of his shirt, revealing a bandage that circled most of his upper arm, and stared at Levin. “But such a great purpose will certainly not come without sacrifice.”

Levin jumped to his feet and rushed towards Scott, his heart pounding in his ears. “What did you do with her? And how could you claim to help us, and then…this!” He stopped near the front of the stage and towered over the still-seated crowd.

Scott smiled. “Your mother tried to remove herself and your family from any involvement with PR. We had to do something. We don’t want anyone thinking they can ‘quit’ PR, not when there’s so much work to do.”

“Work to do? Have you lost your damned mind? You don’t own us, and you can’t make us work for you.”

Shouts of agreement moved through the crowd.

Scott focused on Levin. “Of course we own you! We’re the reason you exist.” The group quieted at his volume. He continued in a softer tone. “Do you think anyone outside PR, who can’t understand us, will accept us? Please. We can be outcasts,” he spread his arms and faced the crowd, “or we can claim our place of superiority. Now,” he looked at Levin, “what do you think we should do?”

Levin pointed at Scott and took two steps towards the stage. “First, you should tell me where my mother is. Then, you should let everyone here live the lives they choose.”

The crowd cheered him, boosting his confidence. He took a breath and another step. “Tell me!”

“Your mother?” Scott sneered. “You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

“You’re lying. That’s all you’ve done until now.” The crowd quieted again. “My mother cut off PR because
you
told us to do that.”

“I tested you. We need to know where your families’ loyalties lie. Only your mother tried breaking communication, so,” he scanned the crowd, “we made an example of her.”

Levin jumped onto the stage and smashed his fist into Scott’s jaw. The impact sent a shock wave up his arm. Stumbling backwards, Scott brought his hand to his face, then reached into his pocket and removed a knife, clutching the handle in his fist. He snapped it open and lunged.

Levin blocked with his arm. Scott forced it down, drove the blade into the flesh near Levin’s shoulder and dragged it over his skin, ending at his stomach. He pulled it away and stepped back.

Heat rushed to the wound. Levin yelled and hunched over, bringing his hand to his chest. Blood soaked into his sliced shirt and dripped onto the floor. He eyed Scott’s taunting glare, then the knife in Scott’s hand, and collapsed.

A deafening boom echoed through the space.

****

Rana shut her eyes and covered her ears to protect them from the noise. When she opened her eyes, she thought she was dreaming.

“Mom!” She jumped to her feet. Her mother stood at the back of the stage by the empty closet, pointing a gun towards the place Scott had stood. Her arms shook violently. A man who looked familiar stood behind her. Scott, bleeding from a wound on the back of his head, lay on the stage near Levin. The crowd sat in shocked silence.

Dayla rushed past Rana. Seeming to snap out of a trance, Liz passed the gun to the man standing behind her, stepped off the stage, and opened her arms to receive her younger daughter.

Rana swallowed the lump in her throat and ran to Levin. Daniel and Jeremy were quick to follow. Their brother lay curled on his side in the fetal position, squirming as blood ran from the wound and down his arm. Daniel shoved on Levin’s shoulder, and Levin moaned.

“Come on, let us help you,” Daniel said.

Levin uncurled, lying on his back.

Daniel widened the cut in the shirt and scrunched his nose. “It’s deep. I’ll need to find something to stitch him up.” Putting his fingers into the sliced fabric, he tore Levin’s shirt enough to remove it, then bunched it up and used it to apply pressure to the gaping wound.

As Daniel worked, the man holding the gun took the stage next to Scott’s body. He dropped to his knees, putting his fingers on Scott’s neck, and shook his head. Inhaling a shaking breath, he rose to standing.

The two large men held Peter’s arms. One of them stuck a needle full of something into Peter’s neck that made him pass out.

The man on the stage eyed the gun in his hand. “I’m Dr. Steven Craig.” He looked at Scott, then Levin, then to the group. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything to you soon, but we need to get you out of here right now. There are vans waiting outside to take you to a safe location. Please, follow me.”

“Why should we do that? Your people have led us around all day,” an older boy yelled. Shouts of agreement moved through the crowd.

Dr. Craig held out his hand, as if trying to calm the group. “I don’t have time to explain everything now. Scott was not working with us. He has people upstairs expecting you to join them. They want to initiate you into some kind of army. We need to leave before they realize what’s happened, or your lives will be in danger. You have to trust us.”

Dr. Craig walked into the storage closet, followed by Rana’s mother and Dayla. Rana thought back to when she examined the space. The door had been well hidden.

She looked at Levin and then to Jeremy. “How do we get him out of here?”

Levin squirmed. “I can walk.”

Jeremy jumped onto the stage, put his arm around Levin’s back, and placed Levin’s arm around his own shoulders. He lifted Levin to his feet. Daniel kept the pressure on the wound with the shirt as the men stood. Levin winced and took small steps. By the time they moved, the entire group worked their way towards the closet. Jeremy and Daniel helped Levin walk across the stage.

Rana glanced at the crowd. Jason stood still, watching her.

He met her at the stage, looked at Levin, then back to her. “Will he be okay?”

She nodded. “Daniel said he could stitch him up.” She walked with Jason towards the door, behind her brothers.

“How do you think your mother escaped?” he asked.

Rana shrugged as tears welled in her eyes.

Jason stopped walking and put his hand on her shoulder. “Can I give you a hug?”

She laughed through her tears. “Yeah. Sure.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She sobbed into his shirt.

He squeezed her. “Come on. We have to go.”

She nodded and released, focusing on the retreating group. “They’re all like us, aren’t they?”

Jason met her eyes. “Yeah. And we need to join them.”

They entered the closet after everyone else. A brick propped open a door that had been the right wall. They walked through a skinny corridor, to a ladder leading through a window well, and climbed into fresh air.

The night sky surprised Rana. “I can’t believe how long they kept us in there.”

“It was a long day.”

Rana scanned the row of passenger vans; her mother stood by the one in front. Jason turned the other direction. “I see my sister in that other van. I’ll catch up with you when we get to wherever we’re going.”

She grabbed his wrist. “Is this safe? How can we trust them?”

“I think so. I mean, that was your mother, right?” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and walked towards his van.

Rana ran towards hers. Her mother opened her arms. Rana crashed into her mother so hard they both laughed. Her mother took Rana’s face in both hands, kissed her on the forehead, and brought her back into the hug. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Rana’s words sounded woefully inadequate.

“Thanks, honey. I missed you so much.”

“Mom, I need to ask you a question before I get in the van.”

Her mother released Rana from the hug. “What’s that?”

“Why did you have us?”

Her mom took a second to answer. “What do you mean?”

“Was it for the money? Or because the Project wants us to get married and have kids? Do you work for them? I’m just . . . not sure what to believe.”

“Rana, I had you because I wanted to, and because I knew I would love you. Trust me, and trust Dr. Craig. Scott was behind everything that happened. You heard what he said.” She hugged Rana again. “I wouldn’t let you get in this van if I didn’t think it was safe. In fact, I think
not
getting in this van is dangerous.” She gestured to the van with a head tilt.

Rana climbed aboard.

The dome lights illuminated the interior. Dayla faced backwards on her knees in the front row.

Levin lay across two seats while Daniel squeezed himself in the small space between that row and the one in front. Rana took the seat behind Levin.

His face was pale and held a pained grimace. He rested his arm across his forehead and closed his eyes.

Rana’s mother took an empty seat in front of Levin and Daniel and turned herself to face them. She covered her mouth with her hand and silently cried when she saw her son.

“Daniel got a fff…first aid kit from the d…d…driver,” Brent said from the seat next to Rana’s.

“Yeah, the box had a suture kit but no lidocaine, so Levin has to bear this out ‘til I finish.” Daniel winced as he stitched the wound. “You hanging in there, buddy?”

Levin answered with a moan. Several medical pads coated in blood sat on Levin’s shorts. His blood-soaked shirt rested under his side.

The driver twisted around. “Are you almost done? I need to turn the lights off so we can leave.”

“Not really, but go. I’ll manage,” Daniel said. “Does anyone have a flashlight?”

The lights went out and the van moved. Rana took her phone from her pocket, turned on her flashlight app, and shined the light on Levin’s side. Daniel held his arms over Levin as if assessing how the van moved before continuing on the wound.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Rana asked.

“Yeah, I’m in medical school, remember?” He glanced at her. “Don’t worry; I know the basics of suturing.” He returned his attention to the wound. “The cut doesn’t go deeper than the muscle. His organs are fine. That’s the good news.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“Well, the kit didn’t have much to control infection. Just some little alcohol pads and a small bottle of iodine. We can only hope that’s good enough at the moment.”

“I guess this will test that stronger immunity we’re supposed to have,” Rana said.

“Yeah. Good point.” As Daniel stitched his way across the wound, Levin occasionally winced, groaned, held his breath, and exhaled slowly.

“Levin, look at me,” his mother said.

He opened his eyes and focused on her.

“You’re going to be fine. Do you hear me?”

He nodded and closed his eyes, sending tears down the sides of his face. She reached over the back of her seat and wiped them with her thumb.

After watching them for a minute, Rana needed a distraction. “Mom, what happened to you? How did you end up with Dr. Craig?”

Her mother wiped the tears from her face with her free hand. “Well, on Saturday night, someone rang the doorbell. When I answered it, two hooded guys pushed their way in. Scott grabbed me and tried to bring me to the floor. I cut him with my ring and ripped his hood off. I must have nicked an artery because he bled like crazy. I thought I could fight him off, but his partner came over and stuck a needle in my neck. Whatever he injected made me pass out. I woke tied up in the back of a utility van. Scott was gone, but the other guy drove–the same guy who introduced Scott tonight.”