Twenty years. Twenty years of isolation. Twenty years of simulations. Twenty years of escape attempts and consequential beatings or the filling of her wrist bones with magnetic material. Twenty years of living with cameras on her, decisions being made for her, and so-on, every minute of every day of her life.
They didn't care if she was in pain from the beatings as long as her mind wasn't on the verge of insanity. That way, she was able to complete the SIMs. No one came to comfort her, even if she had the recurring nightmare of her kidnapping.
No one cared with the exception of her caretaker when the Doctor was at the facility. But even then, the doctor could only do what he was allowed to by the Center.
"Dana, my name is Sydney. I'll be taking care of you for awhile."
"Where am I? Where are my mom and dad?" she remembered asking when she was about five, only to be lied to and told that her parents had died. Whether it was natural causes, murder, or an accident was left as a mystery for the next twenty years. And whether or not Sydney knew the truth was the same mystery.
Security cameras slowly rotated up and down the halls. An electronic whirring sound came with each movement of the cameras. Just outside of a Center cell, a security camera was fixed on the door to Dana's cell, or her room as the Center liked to call it.
Dana knew the dictionary definition of the word privacy, but she didn't know it on a personal level. She had never experienced real privacy.
"Sydney," thirteen-year-old Dana began. "Who's this Jarod everyone's comparing me to?"
"Dana, finish the simulation. You can save them if you want to."
"Will you tell me about him?"
"If you finish the simulation," was the deal Sydney made, though he probably wasn't allowed to tell her.
"You talk a lot with someone on that thing over there," she began, having only seen a phone but never knew what it was called.
Reluctantly, Dana continued the simulation. Some of the SIMs she completed were old.
"They could have used the gravitational pull of the moon," she said, figuring out the solution. She had shaved five minutes off Jarod and Gemini's records.
"Excellent work, Dana."
She was brought back from the memory as a guard said...
"Subject 558250 is secure. SL-18 lock down in five," a security guard said into his radio. His voice brought Dana back to the present.
She looked to her wrists. The surgical scars were a visible reminder of her prior escape attempts, and each attempt also got her moved to an even lower sub level.
If she was going to get out of this place, she had to be discrete. Every attempt she'd made from her cell was blocked off. The air vent had been welded shut, the security camera in her cell was caged, and so-on. An opportune moment for a final attempt hadn't presented itself yet, and she wasn't sure if it ever would.
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Mr. Raines had been the chairman to the Center for many years. Through either retirement or death, his position was inherited by his son, also known as Mr. Lyle.
Mr. Lyle had lost one of his thumbs in a deal gone wrong before Dana's time at the Center. Dana would jokingly call him the man with the thumb. But that was only if she forgot that she was never truly alone.
"Dana's SIM on epilepsy will be ready in two weeks for the Triumvirate," Mr. Lyle said to his secretary. "Have her moved from her cell tonight. I want her right next to Jarod's new room."
"And if she tries to escape again, Sir?"
"You know what to do," was his simple answer. The secretary made a note of what was to be done if Dana managed to get away again.
Once the next day's plans were made, Mr. Lyle's secretary left, and Lyle began packing the files he was going to take home.
Hours later, Lyle's workday was done. Within a few minutes of him locking his office door, alarms started blaring. He looked to his watch before mumbling, "Ten hours ahead of schedule, Dana." It was as if Mr. Lyle had known this was going to happen.
He began searching for the nearest security guard to ask if his suspicions were correct. Dana had indeed managed to escape once again.
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Dana found herself at the end of a drain pipe that was closed off by metal bars.
"No. Oh, no. Nonononono," she said as she placed her hands on the bars.
She backed away from the bars. Her hands still held on to them. When she tried to pull away, her hands wouldn't budge. It was as if someone had glued her to that spot.
It felt like forever before she finally got her hands free. She tried putting her hands through the bars only to get stuck to them again.
"The Center had to inject magnetic material into my bones," Dana mumbled.
Somehow, she had picked the lock at the end of the drain pipe, gaining her freedom.
She ran down the rocky waterfront. Rocks and stones cut her bare feet. The sparse brush she had passed through scraped and scratched her bare legs and arms as all she wore was a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
A blood trail followed behind her, leading anyone who was looking for her toward the dock where she ran. There was a boat tied to the end of the dock.
This was it, her last chance to get off this island and out of the Center. She climbed aboard the boat then pressed every button in an attempt to start it. Then she saw a key in the ignition. She turned it and the engined roared to life. The spotlights just missed the wake she left behind with the boat.
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Mr. Lyle was called to the Center's command center. He was briefed on what little everyone knew of how Dana had escaped for the nineteenth time.
"Will someone please tell me how one of our subjects escaped with the changes we've made to our security and the so-called modifications in technology. The Center won't stand for another Jarod on the loose. Did you activate Dana's tracking chip?" Lyle asked, showing his lack of patience, hoping that history would be repeating itself.
"Yes, Mr. Lyle. It's a good thing we're on an island this time. There's no way on or off without being seen," was the answer he received.
"That would be a comforting thought. Accept for one thing. She's already off the island," Lyle said, pointing to the screen that showed Dana's location. The dot that represented her was somewhere between the island and Blue Cove. "Call the facility in Blue Cove. Let them know she's on her way there."
"If she's anything like Jarod, we can follow Miss Parker's reports and catch her in a hospital near what she thinks is home."
"That's the problem," Lyle replied. "We've got a new player on our hands. One that's unpredictable. Which means we're writing a new playbook, Ladies and Gentlemen."