There was no hesitation on his part when he gave his answer. She blinked at him. “Uh, Peter, that’s not a normal subject for kids.”
“It’s not? I meant history. But I liked studying the wars the best. Especially Napoleonic Wars. That’s what I meant by military strategy.”
“Oh,” she said, not one hundred percent reassured.
One night after dinner, Peter hummed, thinking of last night’s encounter with Allison. She was his match, he was sure of it. How else to explain the bone-deep connection he felt with her? And the sex. Not that he had anything to compare it to, but holy hell, the sex was intense.
Another soldier had stopped by his table at dinner to tell him to head to the main office after dinner. Apparently, Doctor Rovinsky wanted to talk him. Probably about his new mile speed time. Ever since meeting Allison, his running times had increased significantly. All his other physical tests had improved too.
He knew the med team wondered about it, but he’d have to keep them in the dark. If he told them what he suspected, that meeting his match had led to an increase in his enhanced capabilities, they’d go ballistic. Allison would be forced to move onto the campus and give up her dreams.
Though a deep dark part of him craved that more than anything, he already loved her enough to not let her dreams get lost.
He walked into the main office building and was surprised to see Doctor Rovinsky and a crowd of some of the other medical staff huddled outside of one of the meeting rooms. The doctor was holding a white towel to his cheek, and when he moved it slightly, Peter could see a bleeding red line down his face. He didn’t have much time to wonder how the injury occurred, because the minute he approached the cluster of the med team, they all turned to him. Some had a smile on their faces, some looked at him as they usually did: as if he were a robot or some kind of freak.
They looked at him as if he was going to go Hulk on them. Ever since the TV show had aired two years ago, he’d identified a lot with the scientist who turned into the green monster. Peter hadn’t asked to be born this way. He felt like a normal human except that everyone around him treated him as if he were different. One day soon he’d paint his chest green and rip off his shirt when people looked at him funny. He was smiling at the thought as he approached the group huddled around the door.
“Peter,” Rovinsky said.
“Hi, doc. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, we have something you want to see in here.”
He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head toward the door. “In there?” His hearing was enhanced to the degree that he could hear better than the average person, but at that second it was almost as if he could hear the heartbeat of every person in the building.
“Should I go in?”
“Yes, that would be good.”
Peter should’ve known something was up by the strange behavior of the normally complacent medical team. He turned the knob and felt a small push at his lower back, sending him tripping into the room. The sight that greeted him shocked him more than touching the electrified fence that surrounded the Program compound.
“Allison?” He raced over to his girlfriend, who was handcuffed to the leg of a side table. She sat gagged on the couch with her handcuffed arm hanging over the arm of the sofa.
He tore off her gag, which was damp with her tears. “Peter?”
His heart clenched at her confused voice, so different than her normal sultry upbeat tones. “Yeah, baby. It’s me.”
“What’s happening, Peter? Where are we?”
“This is my home.”
She physically scooched back a foot at his confession. “You’re one of them?”
“One of who?” he asked, not knowing how much she’d been told. Did she know he was a genetically enhanced human? Why was she here? More importantly, who had forced her here and tied her to the chair with a gag? His anger flared, pounding within his brain and deafening his enhancements.
“The kidnappers.”
“No.” He gave a violent headshake and felt some of his recently eaten dinner threaten to come up. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen. How they’d learned about Allison, he didn’t know, but he wanted to kill them for daring to touch her. “I never wanted you here. I love you too much to want you trapped here like me.” He reached over to stroke her hair, and she leaned into him like a cat seeking affection, but then she seemed to remember where she was and whipped her head out of his way.
“Is this what you meant before? That you didn’t want me trapped like you are?” Her eyes widened and she tugged at the table with her bound hand at his words. “What is this place? Where are we, Peter?”
This time she let him touch her. Her thigh was soft under his palm when he leaned in to whisper, “I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but first I need to take care of something.” He rose and strode to the door, ready to add to the scratches on Rovinsky’s cheek, because it was obvious now Allison had fought her captors.
“Rovinsky,” he roared, turning the doorknob, but it remained locked in place. He pounded on the door and then slammed his shoulder against the wood. “Let me out of here.”
“Calm down, Peter,” a voice came through the door.
“Hell, no. Not until you let me out and release Allison.”