By Dannah Ruth S. Ballesteros
“Hey, are you okay?”
Joan looked up from the trash bins and the newspaper mound she had tried to cover herself with for the past hour. A tall, bespectacled Caucasian guy, probably in his early twenties, who sported a faux hawk and a coat over a hoodie approached her cautiously. He had a look of concern on his face and eyed her nakedness up and down.
“Don’t come any closer!” Joan warned. The guy inched closer.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the guy said. He knelt down, took off his coat and gave it to her when he was near enough. “What’s your name?”
Joan accepted the coat and wore it but then it was too big of a risk for Joan to mention her name to this kindly stranger. After all, the news had said that if someone helped her out, they too would be sent to jail.
“Sir, I have to say thank you for the coat but I don’t think it will be safe for you to help me out.” Joan said. “Please, if you’ve watched the news...”
Joan saw the guy changed his expression of concern to surprise.
“Oh shit,” he muttered. “You’re that wanted girl... I...“
Joan stood up from the mounds of newspaper, finally able to because of the coat covering her naked body, and raised her index finger to her lips. “Sir, I would ask you to leave me alone but please don’t call anybody!”
“Just come with me! Don’t worry.” He said, extended a hand to her. “Don’t you have any stuff with you?” He suddenly sounded alarmed and in a hurry. When Joan refused the hand, he took her by force. “I said don’t worry, I’m a good guy! I know the risk of helping you out but don’t worry!” She tried to pull herself away but the guy was insistent and persistent. She couldn’t scream for help or someone who’d recognize her would call the cops.
They left the gas station where Joan hid out for a few hours, just right after she lost the last of her clothes. They were somewhere in Memphis, Tennessee, on Route 40—that was for sure. Joan looked at the guy who dragged her. They were about the same age. She wondered if he really recognized her from TV or was just a wacko who picked up naked girls in gas stations in the middle of nowhere. Either way, both possibilities seemed unfortunate for her.
***
Joan wasn’t supposed to be here. In fact, she shouldn’t have been here. Six months ago, Joan Tan was an OFW. She graduated from the University of Santo Tomas six years ago with a degree in nursing, but then failed the board exam two years in a row. She did various odd jobs after failing the board exam for the first time while she took another review course to prepare taking it a second time. After she found out that she had failed it again, she accepted her TNT (“tago nang tago,” or “always hiding,” the Filipino term used to describe illegal aliens hiding from immigration officers) aunt’s offer to become a caregiver and quickly flew over to Washington where her aunt worked. She needed the job badly. She was the first among her four siblings to graduate and she needed to help out her Dad who was an overseas worker as well in Saudi Arabia. But it was a dead-end job for her; this wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to become a nurse, not an old man’s maid. So, when she stumbled upon a Medical Volunteers Wanted ad one day while on her way to work, she jumped at the chance to do something that was related to her course. The ad gave her hope to pursue nursing again in this foreign land. She couldn’t imagine herself wiping old asses for the rest of her life. At this point, she’d almost lost all hope of becoming a nurse.
***
Joan found herself in the front seat of an old, green Honda Civic. She pondered over whether she would trust the guy or just run away as far as she could. She felt sorry for herself that she didn’t have any other choice. She saw the guy open the back seat door and rummage through a duffel bag. He took out a pair of jeans and a shirt and gave it to her.
“You can wear these,” he said. He gave her time to change inside the car and then hopped in the driver’s seat.
“You’re Joan Tan, right?” he said. He seemed casual after just being in a state of shock and surprise. “I’m Sean Rhodes.”
“Why are you helping me?” Joan asked. She shifted in her seat to make herself comfortable in the loose Rolling Stones shirt and the huge jeans she was now wore.
“I don’t think that the news gave any credible reasons as to why you’re wanted.” He seemed to try to spit out the words.
“But I’m not just wanted here, I’m wanted internationally! Don’t you know that?”
“I do, but I’m just not that convinced why. I mean you haven’t murdered anyone, have you? They said you stole something valuable or whatever from the government. But what’s with the hype?” Joan saw that Sam was trying to explain something through this act of generosity... or he just paid very little attention to the news. She shouldn’t even trust him. But she was desperate, and beggars can’t be choosers.
“I haven’t killed anyone or stolen anything...”
“Why are you wanted, then?” Sean asked her.
***
Joan saw herself in a hospital gown with four other volunteers. She and another guy, claimed to be American-Hispanic, sat next to each other with three Caucasians. They were asked to sit on separate beds and were given shots. As a nursing graduate, Joan had to ask what the shots were for. The nurse who tended to her told her that it was a new medical formula to enhance brain receptors, a sort of cure they were trying to make for Alzheimer’s disease. It was called the Neuroenhancer. She didn’t have to worry, the nurse assured her. It didn’t have any side effects... so far. After a few hours, they were discharged and asked to return the next day. They were once again placed in hospital gowns, but this time they were tested for different things that, to her, didn’t seem to have anything to do with Alzheimer’s disease. After all, she specialized in Respiratory Therapy.
The first test was a memory test which was twenty times harder than any other memory test she had ever taken. She was allowed to look at different pictures, but she was only to guess where their respective pairs were. The second test consisted of her being placed in a freezing room where she could even see the mists her breath made. She was to signal if she felt cold—of course she did. The next test they administered was a simple shock treatment. They had to see if she reacted to it—of course she did. In the next test, they would prick her index finger with a needle to see if she could feel pain—of course she did. The final test was that she had to hold her hand over a flame and see if how long she could last—she last for only a few seconds. She asked the nurse what the tests had to do with Alzheimer’s disease, but the nurse pretended not to hear. Instead, they were asked to come back the next day. They did the same tests all over again for almost a week.
On their last day, which was supposed to be the time they’d get paid for the volunteer work, one of their co-volunteers was missing. She held back her question knowing that the nurse would ignore it just as she had been doing all week. Joan as usual failed the first test, didn’t even last five minutes in the cold room, exclaimed in Filipino her pain at the electric shock she was given, and needed a band-aid for her bleeding index finger. On the final test, however, she didn’t even realize that her hand had already touched the flame.
The doctors and nurses who examined her asked her to wait in the waiting room while they discuss her results. She was surprised that she was the only one who had to wait while the others were sent home, paychecks in hand.
***
Since Joan couldn’t be smuggled out of the country, her plan for six months of being on the run was to avoid major cities and hit the small towns. If she blew her cover, she had to move on to the next small town. It was already dusk. They had been driving on the highway towards Texas. Sean could just drop her in some small town there.
“I was a computer analyst for the Department of Finance and Accounting Service,” Sean said, trying to break the silence with small talk. Joan didn’t respond. “It pays good money but I kind of got in trouble, so I owe the department some money. I got transferred to another department.” Joan still gave no response. “Is it me or is the air-conditioning of this car broken?” Sean suddenly said as he adjusted the thermostat.
“What do you mean?” Joan turned to him, suddenly alarmed.
“I meant it’s stuffy in here even if it’s below 20 degrees outside and the thermostat is on full blast.” Sean said casually, apparently surprised by Joan’s sudden response.
“Ok, ok, pull over! I have to get out, quick! I said pull over!” Joan shouted, hand at the door handle, ready to flip it open.
Sean reluctantly pulled over to the side of the road; his vision was suddenly blurred by smoke that came out on Joan’s side of the car. Joan quickly got out and ran as far away from the car as she could. Sean ran after her, coughing.
“Hey! What about the plan?” He shouted at her. He stopped on his heels when he saw that she was frantically taking off the clothes that she wore. She was topless already and literally emitted smoke.
“Don’t come any nearer!” Joan warned Sean while she tried to take off her jeans as quick as she could. Then without warning, she burst into flames.
“Damn it!” Joan swore. The jeans she wore were quickly reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds. She saw Sean with his hands on his head with his familiar expression of shock.
“Don’t be scared, Sean. If you feel like leaving and running as far away from me as possible, it’s ok with me. Just don’t come near me until I stop burning, ok? This might take a few minutes...or hours.” She tried to talk to Sean as calm as possible. He was at a loss for words but he didn’t seem to want to run.
***
Joan wondered why she was being held back by these people. She tried to listen with her ear on the closed ward doors.
“She’s developing immunity to extreme heat. She didn’t realize I’d set the room temperature to the boiling point. She wasn’t even sweating when she got out.”
“Wow, two finds in one group—fire and ice. This shows promising results with the Neuroenhancer for our clients, especially when troops are based in deserts and snowy areas.”
“It depends still. She’s our third successful test subject so far.”
“There might be a problem, though. She’s Filipino. She’s not a citizen here and we only have basic information on her. She probably doesn’t have any visas or other documents. She’s probably one of those illegal immigrants.”
“Wouldn’t that be easier when we take her? Anyway, security check will take care of that. In the meantime, if her government finds out that a Filipino is a successful test subject of the Neuroenhancer, they might want in on the project. By the looks of their current economic state, they probably don’t have the money to buy a share of the formula, so they might use her citizenship to blackmail us.”
Joan didn’t understand what they were talking about but she was sure something was up. When she gathered enough courage to leave the facility, the doctors and the nurses came out of the ward and asked her to spend the night. She refused. They insisted.
***
It was already dark. Joan saw that Sean, who had sat on a rock for almost an hour looking at her, had gathered thorn bushes. She’d been burning for an hour. Sean walked up to her with a thick piece of wood in his hand and held it to the flames burning on her arm. She looked at him, insulted, but then she noticed that his face was blank, as if he were in shock. He went back to the pile of thorn bushes, lit them, and warmed himself at the campfire. He sat himself on the rock again, next to a fresh batch of clothes and a towel, and looked at the burning Joan.
“You’re such a boy scout,” she said to him.
He said nothing and continued to look at her. Joan could see he was deep in thought, of running away perhaps, but she appreciated that he was still there, with a batch of fresh clothes to cover her up once she stopped burning.
“I saved your Rolling Stones shirt, but I’m sorry I burned your jeans,” she said again.
He said nothing again. The look on his face was a mix of shock and guilt.
“You could leave, you know. I could just hitch a ride from here. Just give me the clothes and be off.” Joan said impatiently of his silence and his stares.
“So this is why you’re wanted.” He finally said. His voice seemed to echo in the silence that followed.
Joan sighed and nodded. “I’ve been experimented on by the military. I can’t control it. I just burst into flames at random. Before you saw me naked back in that gas station, I’d just had an episode. I burned my last batch of clothes back there.”
“Why can’t your country save you?” Sean asked her.
“I can’t let them. My country doesn’t want to save a criminal. That’s all they know—that I’m a criminal. Everything else has been covered up. Besides, if they knew, they’d just want to use me as a weapon. You don’t know how desperate my country is to get to the top, after years of being at the bottom of the economy. If they had me, they could do whatever they want. I am a Filipino citizen after all. They’d practically would own me. I’m just glad to know they left my family alone and haven’t deported my dad from Saudi Arabia.”
“Why don’t you come quietly, then? They’d probably pay you for your services.” Sean suggested.
“Or they might harvest my blood or something...” Joan muttered under her breath.
“Well, I’m just saying if I were you I’d...” but Sean didn’t continue what he was about to say. The look Joan gave him told him he was out of line.
Sean stood up. Joan’s body emitted smoke once again; the burning had stopped. She covered her privates with her arms. Sean, who tried not to look at her, covered her with the towel and led her to the campfire.
“You smell of sweet burning butter.” Sean said.
“I do?”
“You’re hot,” he told her, still holding the towel around her. He looked at her now. She looked at him with a confused but amused look. Sean, who realized his mistake, cleared his throat and looked away. “I mean, literally. You’re burning up.”
“I feel fine,” she replied honestly.
***
Joan was naked, strapped onto a cold, metal bed. She could see doctors and nurses around her in medical gowns and scrubs. She saw a large mirror on one side of the room. It was obvious: someone was watching her from behind that mirror.
The next couple of minutes were the worst of her life. They tried to burn her with a welding torch, a branding iron, and a cutting laser. She struggled and thrashed furiously against her straps and started screaming. When each of the burning apparatuses made contact, she felt nothing. She would scream each time in anticipation of the pain, but each time, she felt nothing. By the time they were through, there wasn’t mark on her.
This went on for days, each time with different tools, different weapons: from things that merely burned to things that exploded. They tested if she could survive a grenade explosion at point blank. It was a risk the doctors were willing to take. Luckily, not only did Joan survive, she came out of it unfazed. Her ears didn’t even ring. It seemed that her body was impervious to any form of fire and heat, including any of its effects on other senses of the body.
One day, while she was strapped on the metal bed once again, she happened to see a man in a military uniform talking to the doctors and nurses inside the room with them. He was old, with a strong jaw line and sunken cheeks. His greying hair was parted on one side, and he had a lot of medals on his uniform. The others referred to him only as “the General.” He talked loudly and kept looking at her with hunger in his eyes. Everyone seemed to want to kiss his ass.
“She has improved a lot.” Joan heard him say to the doctors. “What else do you need to study her for?”
“We’re still trying to study how her body reacts with extreme heat and temperature. So far we saw her cells are moving rapidly, creating a friction that makes her body adjust to the heat,” said one of the doctors.
Another one said, “We need samples of her blood and try to replicate her body’s reaction to flames like what we’re currently doing with the other subjects.”
“Yes. It’s hard to replicate the three test subjects’ reactions. After all, their Neuroenhancers reacted to different stimuli. Number One cooperates with the tests. However, Number Two and this one, Number Three, make it hard for us. They have to be kept restrained and tranquillized,” the first doctor said.
“We noticed that the formula works with first-generation mixed bloodlines. You know, directly mixed blood? Number One is Irish-American, Number Two is American-Hispanic, and this one is Filipino-Chinese. We’re going to try to see if it works for non-halves, fourth-generation mixed bloodlines,” said another doctor.
“Other than that, we haven’t quite fully understood the effects of the Neuroenhancer. Based on the reactions of the test subjects, it’s quite random. We’re testing it further on a new batch of volunteers,” added the first doctor.
“Well, then, you may proceed—but I hope you’re not wasting our time,” the General warned. The doctors nodded, and continued kissing more ass.
Joan cried and screamed, demanding to be released, but no one listened to her.
All of a sudden, her body began to emit smoke. A couple of nurses noticed. They all gathered around her. Without warning, Joan burst into flames for the first time, melting the straps off the metal bed and sending the nurses into a blinded frenzy. She stood up, while still burning. She screamed, not out of pain, but out of shock. She heard people shouting around her. The General called for units. A team of armed and uniformed men arrived.
“We need her alive!” The General screamed over the frenzy.
One of the doctors went for a fire extinguisher and sprayed her, but it did nothing. Joan had triggered the sprinkler system of the building. She felt the water touch her skin but the fire didn’t go out.
“Tranqs!” She heard one of the uniformed men shout. Joan saw a gun barrel directed towards her. The soldier pulled the trigger and released the tranquillizer dart. It melted in the flames enveloping Joan before it even reached her skin. She took this as a sign to run away. She heard the General shout behind her, “Call Number One! Send Number One!”
She met no one on her way out. They probably left when the fire alarm and the sprinklers were triggered. By the time Joan reached the parking lot of the building, her fire had gone out. She saw a security guard’s jacket on an empty parking attendant’s booth and took it. She escaped.
***
They saw the sign saying “Welcome to Little Rock, Arkansas.” There they would take Route 30 to reach the first of the smallest towns in Texas near that route. In Sean’s map they saw that it was a small town called Bloomburg, population: 375, East borderline of Texas and South West of Arkansas.
“Why don’t we stop over here for something to eat?” Sean asked Joan.
“I think stopovers are a bad idea. I might have another episode. Let’s just go.” Joan told him.
Sean ignored her and hit the brakes and parked near a diner. “I just have to make a phone call.” He got out and Joan was left in the car to wait.
Suddenly, a chopper and three military humvees arrived and surrounded the little, green Honda Civic. Joan suddenly panicked. Armed units poured out of the military vehicles, pointing tranquilizer guns at her. Barking commands at them was the General in fatigues and a bullet proof vest.
“Joan Tan, get out of that car!” he ordered.
Joan got out with her hands up in the air. Someone yelled “Fire!” She closed her eyes and expected the worst. But the worst was yet to come.
Slowly peeling her eyes open, she couldn’t decide which was worse: whether it was that hundreds of tranquilizer shots floated in mid-air in front of her, or the fact that she saw Sean Rhodes stand beside her, concentrating on the tranquilizer shots, as if he controlled them, as if he told them to stop in mid-air.
“Number One!” the General shouted at Sean. “What are you doing?”
“I said no tranqs, didn’t I?” Sean replied to the General. “She’s to come without being shot at.”
“You don’t know what you’re going against, Number One!” the General shouted again.
“Number One?” Joan looked at Sean. He was injected with the Neuroenhancer too. He was the first test subject to succeed. He was a telekinetic. He knew what she really was from the start. That was why he seemed so helpful; too helpful in fact. That was why he didn’t leave her when he first saw her burst into flames. She trusted him, and he had been working for them all along.
Sean looked at her, the tranqs still in mid-air. “Look, just come with us calmly. I’ll make sure they’ll treat you right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I can make sure they won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. They’ll train you to control it. They’ll even pay you. Joan, I’ll make sure they won’t hurt you. Trust me. I promise.”
Joan shook her head. None of that was true. To them, she was just a guinea pig. She felt betrayed. She wanted to make these people pay. She felt anger coursing through her. She saw her hands suddenly emit flames but the fire did not spread throughout her body. For the first time in days, she no longer felt helpless. She felt in control.