The Vanishing Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

experience.”
    That was an understatement.
    “Of course, we’ve had to make some adjustments,” Debbie continued. “We had no idea that only the initial stages of sleep triggered the teleportation mechanism. Or that the body can only trigger a single ten-minute trip — nine minutes and fifty-six seconds to be exact — once per circadian cycle.”
    Huh. That was interesting. I guess it explained why I only teleported once during fitful sleep.
    “But we’ve sorted all those problems out. Now the ultimate goal of the Prometheus Project is to train you to use your talents to protect our country.”

Chapter 6
    The drive was long, and we didn’t end up arriving at the facility until the evening. Other than the disturbing information Debbie told me at the beginning of the trip, we hardly talked, and the male agent driving us hadn’t even attempted conversation.
    For a long time all I could see were the dark forms of the coastal hills below an equally dark sky. Then at some point we pulled off the lonely freeway and drove into the ominous hills. I tried to keep track of all the turns we made, but gave up after a while. The winding hills and night sky made it impossible to orient myself.
    The SUV turned off the paved road onto a dirt one, and I sat up a little straighter. We drove for another fifteen minutes before the sky lightened up ever so slightly.
    Lights. We must be close to the facility.
    Sure enough, our car began to slow. I leaned forward in my seat to catch the first glimpses of my new home. A tall chain-link fence came into view first. Razor wire wound itself around the top of it. On the other side someone sat in a guard tower, a gun in their arms.
    Perhaps this was all meant to keep people out. Perhaps. But I wasn’t a trusting person by nature.
    My muscles coiled, and as silently as I could I tried the door handle next to me. It didn’t surprise me when it didn’t budge. They’d locked me in from the outside.
    When our car pulled up to the gates, the chain-link fence rolled back and the guard in the tower waved us in.
    Our car crested a small hill, and then the facility stretched out in front of me. From the dim glow of the artificial lights, the facility appeared to be an off-white, industrial building three stories high. It was ugly and unimpressive to look at, and behind it were a series of similarly ugly buildings.
    Great. This looked an awful lot like prison to me.
    We came to a stop in front of the building. Our driver went to the back of the car and pulled out luggage from the trunk while Debbie opened my door.
    “Nervous?” she asked me.
    I slid out, slinging my backpack onto my shoulder.
    I shrugged. The truth was, at the moment a whole lot of emotions swirled around, and I didn’t want her to know any of them.
    “You can always come to me if you need someone to talk to. I’m the resident counselor here, so it’s my job to help you make a smooth adjustment to living here.”
    Two years. Two whole years — some of the best of my life — would be spent cooped up here. My throat worked when I thought about what my future should have been. I’d already applied to colleges, and the acceptances were trickling in. Now I’d never get to go.
    My shoes squeaked against the cheap linoleum floor as Debbie showed me to my room. It was one of many that lined the hall.
    “This section of the facility is the dormitory, and it’s where you and the other teleporters will stay during your downtime. It’s mixed gender, so don’t be surprised if you see men in the halls.”
    As if on cue, one of the doors down the hall opened, and a boy exited his room. When he noticed us, he waved at Debbie, a spark of interest flashing in his eyes as they passed over me. Debbie waved back, and we watched as he then walked away from us.
    Debbie opened the door to my room, and we stepped inside. The first thing I noticed were the two familiar duffle bags resting next to my bed. One of them normally held my family’s