The Switch (Avery Falls Motorcycle Club #1) - Debra Kayn Page 0,49
Apnea: Twelve minutes, three seconds." The handler nodded, dismissing Trip.
Only then aware that for over twelve minutes he wasn't present, Trip remained at attention. He had no idea how long he could hold his breath, but he'd obviously passed.
"That will be all," said the handler.
Trip walked away from the others in the cave. Moving through the darkness, he stepped out into the light of the outside world. Once he was free of the tunnel, he sprinted into the woods and lost the contents of his stomach.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He leaned against a tree, waiting for the sickness to pass. Vomiting made him weak and chilled, despite the perspiration breaking out on his face.
The soft rapid thud of footsteps growing louder to his ears brought his head up. Keenan stepped into the clearing.
"I heard you." Keenan looked at the mess on the ground and back up to Trip's face. "You have it, too?"
He wiped his arm across his mouth. "I've felt like shit all morning."
"Prez is on the other side of the road, feeling the same way."
"What the fuck is going on?"
"Wish I knew, but I don't like it." Keenan looked over his shoulder. "Do you know what they'll do to us if they find out we're changing?"
"Yeah."
"Man, I'm not going to walk off a cliff." Keenan paced. "I don't even know why I'm thinking that. Nothing makes sense."
"Do you think we were...different before the Alpha Bio Project?"
Keenan frowned. "I don't know."
"We've done the program with the men in the cells. We've seen how they act before taking the dosage of medicine and get put through training. We've seen how they change once they start the pills." He pushed off the tree and straightened. "They fought, every fucking step."
Men cried like a baby. They pissed themselves. They beat their head against the rock wall until blood flowed freely down their face. Many of them tried to kill themselves.
The change happened slowly. The more readings that were done. The more shots they received. The more handling they received changed them to non-emotional servants. Then, they were trained with new skills, training to become enhanced males.
They came out bigger, stronger, more deadly. Fine-tuned machines capable of joining society.
But they all prepared for the switch.
At any time, the CIA could verbally give them the command to kill.
Or run themselves into the side of the mountain, ending their life.
Whatever they asked, he'd do without question because he would have no choice.
He was what they created.
Now that there were changes, he wondered if he was dangerous to others. Was Bonnie and her sons safe from him?
Could he hurt them?
"We need to leave." Keenan stepped away. "Let's go."
At the road, Prez barreled forward, catching Trip by the arm. "It's the medicine," he whispered.
"How do you know." He kept his voice to a bare minimum. "The others aren't sick."
"Go to the clubhouse. Bring your packet." Prez stepped away and got on his motorcycle.
He looked at the others, making sure Hank, Johnny, Keenan, and Speeder heard the instructions. Then, he got on his Harley and raced down the mountain.
He needed to find out if he was a danger to others. With the changes happening, an awareness of how much was out of his control convinced him that he had to be more careful.
He would never want to harm Bonnie and the boys.
And right now, he had no trust that he would be able to control himself.
Over the years, the Alpha Bio Project had released men into the community of Avery Falls. Most of them adapted. But some of them were switched and disappeared in the night.
But there was a fraction of the men who never adapted. The originals were able to spot when that happened and stop anything catastrophic from happening.
Those men were taken out of the program by the originals.
He stopped at his house, grabbed his weekly container of pills, and rode straight to the clubhouse.
He ignored the others associated with the MC loitering about and headed straight to the meeting room. Within minutes, the others arrived.
Each one of them set their pill container on the table in front of them. They'd all been tested, trained, and were thriving, despite the changes. Why would the program go off the rails now?
Prez rearranged the plastic containers in a row. Several minutes later, he raised his gaze and met Trip's unasked question. "Right there. They're different. It's subtle, but one of the pills is more octagon-shaped than round like the others."