The Seven by Sean Patrick Little Page B

and soldiers surrounding the Home.
    Andy looked at the fiasco over Dr. Sebbins' shoulder. "I guess this wasn't supposed to be that easy."
    "Let's go back."
    "No," said Andy, his blue surgical gown kilt flapping in the wind. "Let's test out these bulletproof muscles of mine. Just get behind me, Doc. Hit me with another spray of serum and keep low. I have a feeling this will be ugly."
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    John snuck out of the tunnel when he was sure the helicopter wasn't overhead. He hunched in the darkness by the trunk of a rotting oak, staring down at the Home. From his vantage point he could count at least fifty soldiers and four vehicles; there were probably more that he couldn't see, more crawling through the darkness, looking for them. Every soldier was armed of course, and three of the vehicles had visible guns.
    It was a deathtrap. They would not be able to rescue Andy. John couldn't see how it would even be possible, yet something in his brain was thinking independently of his common sense. Something in his mind was putting angles together, highlighting points of weakness and places where he could get through them undetected. His mind was calculating probabilities and looking for things that could be used as weapons. He noticed a good, sharp stick, straight and thick, with a nice heft. The programming in his brain told him that stick would make a weapon if he had no other choices. He could calculate in his head exactly how long he would have to make a break for the Home from the relative safety of the forest tree line. He could look at the soldiers posted around the perimeter and knew how fast they would react, what angle they would have to shoot from, and he could mentally project the telemetry of the bullets, so he would know how to jump, turn his body, and avoid them all together. These were calculations that no human should be able to make, yet his mind was putting it together as fast as his eyes could take it in. Was he always able to do this? It didn't feel like it was a new experience. His mind wasn't rebelling against the information. He wasn't shrieking in pain. Instead, it felt like he was actually living for the first time in his life, tingling threads of excitement crackled along his brainstem as this information brimmed in his skull.
    A cracking stick behind him brought him out of his trance. In the dim light of the forest, John could see Sarah's golden hair poking out of the tunnel.
    "I just gave Posey another sedative. She was starting to moan in her sleep."
    "How many more do we have left?"
    "Only two."
    "Well, let's hope it holds out long enough."
    "I think we've maybe got enough for four hours."
    "It's going to be light by then," John said. The eastern sky was beginning to become lighter, but it was still a dark gray without a hint of rosy hues. "We're not going to be able to escape in broad daylight and if we stay in this tunnel too long, we're going to get caught, too. I can hear dogs. You think they're going to find us?"
    "Maybe," said Sarah. She hunched down next to John and peered into the yard. "Is it hopeless?"
    "I don't know." He was surveying the soldiers with a grim look.
    A niggling thought twitched in Sarah's mind, a warning alert that what she was witnessing had some sort of issue about it. She was drawing a blank as to what, however. "Something isn't right down there," said Sarah. "I can't put a finger on it, but something about that scene bugs me."
    "I know," said John. "I spotted it first thing. I think Indigo was right: I'm hard-wired to be a perfect soldier. I instantly sum up a situation with a militaristic intelligence. I didn't even know I knew how to do that."
    "Well, what isn't right?"
    "Look at the vehicles and the soldiers."
    "Yeah?"
    "No flags. No insignias. No emblems of any sort."
    "What?"
    "There are no American flags anywhere. Not on sleeves, not on the vehicles, not anywhere. There are no markings to identify any country anywhere down