Reakae

[Pina Cool Ada]

hay, this is a kinda sci-fi i guess. disclaimer:this story is not based on anything that is similar to it. I had this story was b4 I read the books that are similar to it!!!

and reakae is pronounced Ruh-kay.

Prologue​

Dust billowed up as the black limo turned off the paved road onto a barely visible dirt road. Two jeeps followed, each carrying four armed men. The desert stretched for miles and the heat was almost unbearable for the men in the open jeeps. The vehicles continued for several miles on the dirt road before stopping. The stretch of desert where they stopped looked just like all the other desert surrounding it. The limo driver got out and went to the back to open the door for his passenger. Out stepped a tall man dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase. He glanced around nervously. The men in the jeeps jumped out and took their positions in a circle around the man. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his blond hair.
“Alright. Johnson, Harlington, Keller, and Grayson, stay out here. The rest of you with me.” The man’s voice shook, but the men obeyed. The man in the suit walked around with his gaze intently focused on the ground. He stopped and knelt down, brushing the sand away with his hand to reveal a camouflaged keypad set in the ground. He punched in a code and the ground began to rumble. A four by four foot section of the desert sank into the ground revealing a staircase. The man took a deep breath and started down the steps, followed by five of his men. The staircase led down at a steep angle, lit only by dim overhead lights. As soon as the last man was in the ground, the desert floor came back up, hiding any trace of the staircase and the men descending it. The men on top glanced nervously at each other, but held their positions.
The six men followed the staircase over five hundred feet down. When it finally leveled out, all that was there was a brown door without a doorknob.
“Identify,” came a computerized voice.
“Mark Harris with five men,” the man said in a shaking voice.
“Scanning. Please remain still.” The men obeyed.
“Scan complete. Please state the password.”
“Peas.”
“Please state the code.”
“8305672047.”
“Thank you. Please enter.”
“Your welcome,” Mark said under his breath. The door slid silently into the wall revealing a pristine white hallway. A woman in a lab coat stood on the other side. She smiled and held out her hand.
“Hello Mr. Harris. We were not expecting a visit.” Mark shook her hand.
“Dr. Strafford. I’m sorry. This surprise visit was not my idea. I need to speak to Dr. Trave.” Dr. Strafford raised an eyebrow.
“Follow me.” She turned and began to lead them though a labyrinth of white halls and rooms. Other scientists made their way though the halls, and all stopped to stare at the men in suits and carrying guns. They passed a cafeteria with over fifty lab coated men and woman eating lunch. Finally, the reached the center of the huge underground facility. They entered a huge room with hundreds of high tech computers. Dr. Strafford led them through the room to a glass enclosed office. Dr. Strafford knocked quietly on the glass door. Inside, an older man sitting at a desk looked up and motioned for them to come in. Mark went in while his men stayed outside. Dr Strafford saw him in, then left the men.
“Mr. Harris. The computer told me you were here.”
“Dr. Trave.” The men shook hands and each took a seat, Dr. Trave behind the desk and Mark in front.
“To what do we owe this surprise visit?”
“Mr. Morton ordered it.” Dr. Trave started at the name of his sole financer and employer. He leaned back in his chair and studied Mark.
“It’s not good news, is it?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Is it the whole project?”
“No. Mr. Morton is relatively pleased at how Project GASP is turning out. What he is not pleased with is the Reakae Division of the project.”
“What?! That is the most successful division!” Dr. Trave stood up and began to pace the small room. “They are the closest we have come! No other division can come even close to what they are!”
“Dr. Trave. Please sit down.” The scientist obeyed. “He is pleased with their overall performance. What he is not pleased with is that the ChemicalX did not seem to work at all on them.”
“We are working on a way to control them. We just need more time.”
“Mr. Morton said you would say that. He told me to tell you that you have had three years. He thinks you are spending too much time and money on what he sees as failed experiments. The division is terminated.” Dr. Trave rested his head in his hands with his elbows on the table. After several deep breaths, he looked up.
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
“The research?”
“To be documented and used to further the project.”
“The scientist working in the division?”
“Reassigned.”
“The Reakae themselves?”
“Mr. Morton said they are to be terminated. He already has buyers for the bodies.”
“But we could autopsy them ourselves and learn so much!”
“Dr. Morton said he needed some money out of them. The buyers are to document what they do to the bodies and send the information to you.” The men were silent for a few minutes.
“Have you seen them?” asked Dr. Trave quietly. Mark shook his head. “Come with me.” The men exited the office and once again entered the maze of white halls. Mark’s men followed behind. They came to another locked doorway. “Your men need to stay out here. Guns upset them.” Mark nodded to his men. Dr. Trave swiped a card and punched in a code, then did a retinal scan.
“Enough security?” Mark asked.
“Not for this division. Only fifteen people are allowed in here and only two at a time. The rest of the scientists have never even seen the Reakae.”
“Do you think there would be…opposition to this division? It is a step further than the other ones.”
“Yes, some of them would oppose what we did and are doing in this division. But that is not the reason only fifteen people are allowed in here.” The door unlocked and opened. Mark and Dr. Trave stepped inside and the door shut and locked behind them.
‘Why then?”
‘Because it minimizes how many the Reakae can…terminate.” Mark glanced sharply at him. Dr. Trave pressed a button on the wall and one of the walls turned clear. Mark could now see into a large room. And he could see he Reakae. He sucked in a breath.
“Are we safe?”
“Yes. We think. A foot of glass. And their side has a very strong current of electricity just before the glass.”
“Do they have names?”
“Not really. We just call them One, Two, Three, through Ten, in order of birth.” Mark nodded, his eyes on the creatures in the room. Ten pairs of dark eyes stared back at him.
“Is…is there a pack leader?”
“Yes, the black male. The black female is kind of a second in command. Or co-leader. We can’t really tell.”
“Why are they staring at me?”
“It could be a number of reasons. You are new, and they do not see many new people or things. They could be trying to decide if you are a threat. Or they could know why you are here.”
“How could they know that?”
“We are not sure. There is so much we do not know about them. But we do know that they know when we are here to observe them and when we are going to take them out and experiment on them.”
“Interesting.” Dr. Trave nodded.
“Is there any chance Mr. Morton would reconsider?”
“No. He does not like things he can’t control.”
“And the Reakae are very uncontrollable. But the reason I ask is because I do not think we will ever be able to repeat this experiment.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have tried to make more of them. We have repeated the experiment exactly, down to the tiniest variable. All we have gotten are dead fetuses. These are the first and last of their kind.”
“Well, consider them extinct. Mr. Morton was adamant. They are to be terminated.” A roar from the other side of the glass startled both men. One of the Reakae, a brown male, launched himself at the wall of glass. The glass splintered, but didn’t break. The male fell to the floor, writhing in pain from the electric shock. Another male was getting ready to throw himself against the wall, a white one this time. Dr. Trave ran to the door, trying desperately to get out. He dropped the card, but Mark was there, picking it up and swiping it.
“Hurry!” he shouted. Dr. Trave punched in the code to get out just as the white male hit the glass. The entire wall of foot thick glass was now a spider web of cracks. Mark could no longer see through the glass. The door finally opened and the men practically fell through. Dr. Trave ran to a computer console set into the wall next to the door. He began touching the screen and typing in a code. Mark ordered his men to fire at anything that came through the door. The men crouched down, their guns aimed at the door. Dr. Trave touched the okay button just as the glass was heard shattering. Immediately screaming could be heard from the other room. Mark looked over at Dr. Trave in confusion. The man looked horrified.
“What happened?” asked Mark. The screams continued, getting louder and higher. Finally, the horrible sounds stopped. “What happened?” repeated Mark.
“I…I followed protocol. I just sent enough electricity to kill over five hundred people into that room.” Dr. Trave looked straight at Mark. “You can tell Mr. Morton that the Reakae Division is terminated. We will send what is left of the bodies to his precious buyers.”

 

[Pina Cool Ada]

umm...by the way, the ChemicalX is just there until i can find a good name.

 

[Pina Cool Ada]

Two Months Later

“Where are we, honey?” Darla Darrington asked her husband of two weeks.
“In the middle of nowhere,” he answered, smiling over at her. Roger Darrington laughed when his lovely wife frowned at him.
“Seriously, honey,” she pleaded.
“Alright. We are about, I’d say, fifty miles from the border of Nevada. Nobody around for miles.”
“Romantic,” Darla said with a sweet smile. A comfortable silence followed as they drove along. “Honey, if we are the only ones around for miles, who is that?” Roger slowed the truck and followed Darla’s pointing finger. Slowly plodding along the side of the road was a small figure. As they drove closer, Darla laid her hand on Roger’s arm. “Roger, it’s a little girl.” They pulled up alongside a tiny girl, not more than two years old. Darla got out, but as soon as she took a step, the little girl took a step back, her eyes wide, not with fright, but a strange wariness. “It’s alright. Come here,” Darla murmured. Darla tried to look away form her so not to scare her, but she couldn’t help but stare. The child was beautiful. She had straight black hair that hung to her waist, tanned skin, and a beautiful, indescribable face, so delicate and…intriguing. And her eyes. Darla was captivated. Her irises were so black they blended with her pupils and seemed to look into Darla’s soul.
“Is she okay?” Roger asked as he came around the truck. He stopped when he saw Darla’s intent expression, then the beautiful, doll-like child. He also stared for another reason. Darla, intent on her face, hadn’t noticed that the child was stark naked. Roger knelt down by his wife and tried to help coax the girl closer. She stared at them, not leaving, but not coming closer. The girl stared at them, then behind them into the truck. Darla turned around to see what she was staring at. There, on the seat of the truck, was an open bag of tortilla chips. Darla grabbed them and pulled one out, extending her hand to the girl. She stared at the chip, then Darla, then back a the chip. In one quick motion, she snatched the chip and crammed it into her mouth. Darla held out another chip that soon disappeared as well. After the fourth chip, the child was beside Darla, happily devouring the entire bag. She flinched and pulled back when Darla reached for her. Darla dropped her hand and contented herself with watching her.
“Roger, get some water and a one of my shirts,” Darla whispered. Roger reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed two bottled waters and Darla’s suitcase. He handed one of the waters to Darla. She twisted the cap open and gave it to the girl. She drank the entire bottle with ought stopping, so Roger handed her the other one, which she drank also. Roger retrieved another bottle, but she only drank half of it and continued on the chips. Darla tore her eyes away from her to look up at her husband. “What are we going to do?” she asked helplessly.
“I’ll call information. Maybe I can get hold of a police station or something. Here,” he said, handing her a shirt, “put this on her.” He grabbed his cell phone and punched in numbers while Darla helped the girl pull the shirt over the her head. The shirt covered her from neck to toe, making her look even smaller. She looked up at Darla and smiled. Darla gasped. The child was so beautiful when she smiled. Unfortunately, the smile left as quickly as it came.
“An officer is coming. He should be here in about an hour. They asked us to stay put until he gets here.” Roger sat down by Darla. The day was warm, but not hot, and the countryside was beautiful. The girl began to get a bit restless and Roger thought fast for a way to keep her occupied. She had finished off the chips, so Roger grabbed a box of grahm crackers and, as an afterthought, his field guide. The girl attacked the crackers, and seemed more than content to look at the pictures in the book. She seemed especially interested in the birds. Roger wasn’t sure if she could even talk, let alone answer questions, but he decided to try.
“What’s your name?” he asked gently. The child glanced up at him, then back to the book. “Where do you live? Where are you Mommy and Daddy?” Still no answer. Darla tried.
“Sweetheart, what’s your name?” The girl closed the book and set it on the ground before turning to look up into Darla’s face. “What’s your name?”
“Raven,” she whispered, just loud enough to hear. Her voice matched her face, beautiful and unforgettable. Darla began to ask other questions, but received no more answers. She was still trying an hour later when a cop car pulled up. A young man stepped out of the driver side, and an older man stepped out of the passenger side, both uniformed.
“I’m Officer Jackson,” said the older man as Roger and Darla jumped to their feet, “and this is Officer Younge.” Roger and Darla introduced themselves, then Raven, who was standing beside Darla.
“We already looked a little into the matter. There are no homes for over fifty miles form here, and no one in the vicinity has reported a child missing,” said Officer Jackson. “We are thinking someone may have dropped her off on the side of the road.” A look of horror crossed Darla’s face and Officer Jackson nodded knowingly. “Yes, it’s horrible, but not unlikely.”
“What is going to happen to her?” asked Roger. Officer Younge answered.
“We will take her back to the police station and fingerprint her and see if her family turns up. If not, she becomes a ward of the state.” Roger nodded and Officer Jackson stepped forward with his arms out. The girl stepped back, so instead, he coaxed her towards the car with a granola bar. He tossed the bar into the back of the car and, after a moment of hesitation, Raven jumped after it. The officer shut the door quietly, but she didn’t even look up from unwrapping the bar.
“I thought you said she was naked,” said Officer Younge. Darla explained it was her shirt, her eyes never leaving the girl. If she had seemed scared, Darla would have not been able to let her go, but there was such a look of calm acceptance that Darla knew she would be okay.
“She can keep the shirt. If we gave you our phone number, could you keep us updated?” asked Darla.
“Can do.” The number was given, and Darla watched as and drove away. Darla knew she would never forget that girl. Not in a hundred years.

 

[pink-cheetah]

Hm. Interesting.

 

[Pina Cool Ada]

Six Months Later

“Are you insane, Rita?” shrieked Harriet. Rita Davenport gave a small smile and shook her head.
“No, I’m perfectly serious.” Rita shifted a bit under the stares of the thirteen women, but did not say anything. She waited for the inquisition she knew was coming. Jenna, the head of the Women’s Prayer Circle, started it.
“Have you prayed about this? And does Joe agree?”
“Yes to both.” Rita laid her Bible on the empty chair next to her. “He actually had the idea first, but was afraid to mention it to me.” Jenna nodded.
“Then I am behind you one hundred percent.” Other women nodded, but a few still looked incredulous.
“Rita, dear,” started Harriet, “the last time I checked you had a seven-year-old son, a five-year-old son, a four-year-old daughter, a two-year-old daughter, and a one-year-old daughter. And you are telling me that you want to adopt another child?” Harriet shook her head. “I just do not understand.” She hesitated for a second for succumbing to her usual frankness. “You will not replace May, you know.” The other women hushed her, and Rita winced inwardly. Her premature baby daughter had lingered two months before going home to Jesus. Though it was two years ago, the pain was still fresh in Rita’s heart.
“I know that,” she said softly. “And I’m not looking to replace her. I never could. But that man last week spoke on all the children in America who need homes, and I could feel God nudging me. He wants me to do this.” Janice took Rita’s hand in her own and squeezed gently.
“Then you should do it,” Janice encouraged. “And if you need help, I’m here.”
“Really, Rita, are you going to be able to keep up with all these children?” Jenna asked.
“I think so. Brady will be going to school soon, and Joey will be heading to kindergarten, and Macy will be going to preschool three day a week. That leaves the two girls and whoever we adopt. Joe is home at three and hardly ever works weekends.” Rita shrugged. “I think it will work.”
“God willing, it will,” said Jenna. “When are you going and where?”
“Tomorrow is a holiday, so Joe, Brady, and I are heading to the Princeton Orphanage. It’s close and has a good reputation.”
“You are taking Brady?”
“Yes, he wants to help.”
“Are you looking for a boy or girl?”
“And what age?” The women had warmed to the subject and the questions were flying out.
“Probably a boy, and we think older, like five or six.” The questions continued until Jenna finally called to order the meeting and they went on to other people’s prayer requests.
The next day found Rita in the passenger seat of their Expedition with Brady half-asleep in the back. Janice was watching the younger children along with Rita’s brother Chad. Joe had forgotten his wallet and ran inside, but as soon as he was back, they were off. It was early and Brady soon fell asleep. The four hour drive was made in relative silence. Finally they pulled up into the orphanage, a large, mansion type house. It was just before lunch, so there were kids playing all over the front lawn and the playground in the backyard. Workers kept a close eye on the rowdy kids and one came to greet the Davenports.
“Hello, my name is Alice,” she said, holding out her hand. “If you will come with me, I will take you to Mrs. Davis. I am assuming you called ahead?” Joe nodded in affirmative, his eyes already on the children. After meeting with Mrs. Davis and discussing some children Mrs. Davis though appropriate for their situation, they were led outside to look at the playing children. Mrs. Davis called over some children, but most simply stared at the strangers, then continued playing, They were used to strangers. Brady soon wandered away. His gaze was caught by a small girl all alone, leaning against the chain link fence that surrounded the yard. He slowly approached.
“Hi.” The girl lifted her head to look at him. “My name is Brady. What’s your?” She studied him.
“Raven,” she whispered. Encouraged, Brady sat down by her and began to talk. He told her about his parents wanting to adopt, how he was helping, and about his little brother and sisters. When she stared at him the whole time, seeming to absorb every word, he kept talking. This time he spoke of his baby sister dying, of his mother crying, and his puppy he got for Christmas.
“Brady!” Brady jumped up at his mother’s worried voice.
“Mama! Over here!” Rita, Joe, and Mrs. Davis made their way over to the two children. When Mrs. Davis saw who he was talking to, she became very flustered.
“Oh! I didn’t realize you were…I mean, you shouldn’t have-
“Mama, I want her!” At his words, Mrs. Davis became pale.
“Oh, no, no, no! You can’t have her!” Four pairs of eyes looked at her.
“Why not?” asked Joe, his voice cold.
“Well, you see, she is very strange, very strange indeed. The only word we can get out of her is raven. She is…strange.
“Is that your only objection?” Rita asked in astonishment.
“I would not suggest bringing her into a home with younger children.”
“Why? Is she mean?”
“No, but...”
“Is she rebellious?
“No, she is quite obedient. But-”
“How old is she?”
“We think around three now.” Mrs. Davis gave up trying to discourage them. Rita knelt down and looked into the face of the tiny girl. She began to ask questions to which she got no answers. Not discouraged, Rita began to ask Mrs. Davis about her. By the end of he visit, she was determined to have Raven. Mrs. Davis said nothing further against her, but as the Davenports drove off, she knew that after a week or so, they would bring Raven back, just like the five other couples who tied to adopt her. One month later, Raven became Raven Davenport.