by Ryan Decaria
Hawking loitered beside her. “Open it.”
Sasha unlatched the container and pulled it open. Three naked, dead teenage girls lay inside. Hawking’s legs gave out, and he fell to the floor, muttering to himself.
Sasha sat beside him. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t want it to be true,” he said.
Sasha took his hand. “Me either.”
Billie came back in and peeked into the box. “Anyone you know?”
Hawking shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“We’re running out of time,” Sasha said. “What do we do now?”
“Wait here.” Hawking rushed out.
Billie stared at the three girls, her eyes full of tears.
“That could have been me,” Sasha said. “If I never met Anika.”
Hawking returned and set a makeup case on the table. He selected a few shades of primer and held them up to Sasha’s neck. “Now’s where my plan gets awkward.”
Sasha raised an eyebrow. She could handle brutal, dangerous, and even maniacal, but she did not do awkward well.
Billie grinned. “He means you have to get naked.”
Sasha laughed as she pulled off her choker. “Hawking, you’re a genius.”
“Yeah, we’ll revisit that after it works,” he said. “Wash your Goth off. Then we’ll cover up your scars as best we can. We’ve got to move a body to make room for you.”
“Come on, cadaver.” Billie hooked her arm. “I’ll help you clean up.”
Sasha stared into the mirror as they washed off the heavy makeup. The face that stared back seemed so foreign. Someone from another life. She stripped her clothes off, and neither Billie nor Hawking made a big deal of it.
Hawking covered up the scars on her neck. “Why would they need these bodies tonight?”
“Obvious.” Billie splashed water into Sasha’s hair and grabbed a brush. “He’s going to bring Anika back to life.”
“But why?” Hawking finished her neck and froze, unsure where to blotch next.
Billie took the makeup sponge out of his fingers. “I’ll do the boobs. You do the hair.”
Hawking obliged, relief washing over his face. As Hawking slicked her hair back, Sasha and Billie shared a look and both laughed.
Hawking spritzed a little something into Sasha’s hair and combed it through. “Can we tell no one about this, please?”
Sasha stared at her reflection, examining their work. At a glance, she’d probably look fairly unmaimed. If she held still, no one would think twice about her lying next to two other naked corpses. Her expression soured. “It ends tonight.”
“I suppose so.” Hawking put the makeup away and trudged to the box. “I’ll grab her feet. Billie, open up drawer eight.”
They pulled the ice-cold body out of the box and set her on the bed of drawer eight. The dead girl had a toe tag with details about her body, blood type, age, diseases, surgeries, but not her name, what she loved to do on a Saturday night, her hopes and dreams. Sasha wished she’d felt anguish or sorrow for her life, but all she could feel was anger, at Dravovitch and Anika and Hawking’s parents, and at herself most of all.
Billie set down a chair, and Sasha took Hawking’s hand as she stepped up and into the freezing box. She didn’t feel the cold as pain, but her feet grew numb.
Billie leaned in and set Sasha’s folded tank-top behind her. She held up Sasha’s panties. “You can’t run around the lab in these. Hawking, give her your boxers.”
“W-what?” he stammered.
“Come on, dude,” Billie said. “You just stared at her naked. Cough ‘em up.”
“Fine.” Hawking undid his belt and kicked off his pants. He crouched behind the box and stripped, tossing his boxers at Billie before putting his pants back on.
Billie held up the retro video game controllers print boxers. “Second thought. I’d go with the panties.”
Sasha swiped the boxers out of Billie’s hands, folded them up, and put them behind her head. “They’re fine.”
Billie winked at her. “Save Anika for me, okay.”
Sasha put her arms to the side, posing herself like the other dead girls. “I will.”
Hawking fastened the ID tag over her big toe. “Comfortable?”
The cold was bearable but being locked in with the dead wasn’t at all. “No.”
“Good luck,” Hawking said. He had to walk up the stairs and face his parents. And he would never be the same again.
Sasha sat up and grabbed his shirt, pulling him in, and kissed him on the lips.
“Dudes,” Billie said. “So gross.”
Anika stared at her reflection in the metal of the robot stand as she lay in the bed in the infirmary. The gash in her cheek ran from her cheekbone to her chin, remarkably like the gash in her mother’s cheek. It even curved into a wicked smile in the same way. Her mother had been right the whole time. To survive, she’d needed to be ruthless. If Anika had listened, Macy couldn’t have attacked her the way she did.
Anika wasn’t sorry though. She’d done the right thing by her friends and the stupid meathead.
After Macy had struck her, Anika could barely talk, mostly splattered blood and saliva as she sobbed. Macy’s ugly swearing swirled with the pounding in her head. Her father’s glowering eyeballs drilled into her soul as he scowled down his nose at her. Someone had picked her up, and Anika had put her head against his chest. She hadn’t opened her eyes. The smell of cinnamon and mint was stronger than the blood and snot. Boulsour had carried her up to the infirmary. Anika’s tiny whisper, a plea for him to help her, was meaningless.
Anika knew. She hated him for it, but she knew in her gut that when the time came for Boulsour to choose that she wouldn’t even be a second thought in his tiny mind. Knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.
She’d passed out on the way up the stairs. When she woke, three giant stitches held her cheek together, and she had a smashing headache. Macy lay in the other bed scrutinizing Anika’s every labored breath. She smashed buttons when Anika tried—in vain—to raise herself up.
Margery swished into the room, pulling a light out of her pocket. “Relax, Mace. She’s not going anywhere.”
Margery shined the light into Anika’s eyes repeatedly, causing a pain to course through her brain, around the frontal lobes, and back again. Anika coughed and rolled the other way.
Macy flung a table tray at her, which bounced off Anika’s back and clattered to the ground. “You took my arm!” Macy slapped her bed in a hissy fit, more swears, and a sigh as she finally laid back. “You took my life.”
Anika tried to hate her mother for being right all the flunking time. Wasn’t being good better? Anika wasn’t religious, but was karma meaningless? Was ruthlessness the only way to stay alive in Moreau?
Anika felt along the wound in her cheek with a pinky. Anika didn’t have
her mother’s brilliant complexion, high cheekbones, and alarmingly good looks, but now they shared the pain and an understanding of the way the world worked out.
“Stop touching it.” Margery slapped her hand away. She leaned in and whispered. “Tell me what you know. I might be able to help you.”
With Macy sitting in the room. Not a chance that was going to happen. Anika moaned. “I know enough to know you’re a liar face.”
“I liked you, Anika.” Margery smiled as she rustled Anika’s hair.
Anika would have bitten off a finger if they’d gotten any closer to her mouth.
At least the device was planted. They didn’t know what she’d actually done or seen. Anika might be toast, but so was her father as soon as he threw the switch.
“All this time…” Her father’s voice dripped with disdain, as he strode into the room. “I thought I was having a bit of bad luck. I searched for something, anything to blame that night of the power outage. I couldn’t find anything. But you were there, running about in my laboratory.”
He winced when he saw Anika’s face. Did some part of hi
m actually care? He set a wooden box on the bed and turned to Macy. “Did you have to hit her so hard?”
Before she could answer, he held up his hand. “At first I was in denial. Anika couldn’t be that sneaky, could she? She wasn’t smart enough to drain my machine. I almost didn’t believe Macy.”
Macy slid off the bed and almost fell. “Let me kill her!”
“Stop.” He held his hands behind his back and waited.
Macy glared at him.
“Go home.” Again, he waited.
She held up what was left of her arm. “I deserve to see her suffer.”
“Nonsense.” He grabbed her other arm and pulled her toward the door. “You’ve done enough. You’ll get everything you’ve ever wanted. Freedom. Dr. Soren has prepared everything you need. Rest, and you can get on with your life.”
She snarled and stormed out of the room, Margery at her heels. They bickered for a minute. Her father waited.
“I hate you both!” Macy screamed, and her cane made a clacking sound which grew fainter as she stormed out of the infirmary.
“I almost didn’t believe her,” he continued, “but then I remembered the Misty glitch.”
Anika didn’t flinch. Her mother’s training kicking in. Give nothing. She had practiced before she was allowed to attend preschool. He was still guessing, studying her face for confirmation. Nothing!
“Contacts would be clever, yes,” he said. “But this was happening before you got here. Why?”
With her tongue, Anika explored the inside of her cheek for the first time. The split had gone clean through.
“There are multiples of the girl, aren’t there?”
Anika pressed her tongue against the gash, sending another round of pain dancing around her head. Nothing!
“That was how you got in. Wasn’t it? No one would have fallen for such a trick, except for dear Gregory. So smart of you, Anika. Brilliant even.”
Those words sent a tiny spark up her spine. Flattery wasn’t going to cause any more reaction than hate.
He examined the bloody suture needle on the tray. “Her father lied to me. I’ll be looking in on Misty. You’ve shown me how useful they can be.”
Nothing!
Margery entered the room and sat, wheeling herself over near Anika.
He leaned in for a better look. “Is she well?”
Margery spoke with vitriol oozing from her lips. “Oh, she’ll heal soon enough.”
The venom in her voice shook Anika on the inside. Outside, she was a rock. Did Margery hate her as much as Macy? Perhaps Ms. Bolton had already fled, and Margery suspected Anika had planned to follow. Maybe Margery was next on the list. Maybe she was a lonely bitter woman who hated being a pawn.
Anika’s vision finally focused on Margery’s face.
“I’d love to know how you did it,” Margery said. “Such a clever child.”
Anika’s head cleared. They didn’t know everything, and Anika still had time to escape, or at least warn the Mistys to run. Perhaps they already had.
“Let’s not wait any longer,” her father said.
Margery grinned. “The machine has been ready for a week.”
Boulsour slogged into the room, which put escape right off the table. Anika had planted the poison, and she’d get to see firsthand how it worked.
“I searched for three weeks for evidence of tampering and I found nothing.” He smiled as he walked to the other bed, picking up the wooden box. “If you knew, why would you have stayed in Moreau? But you rescued the drug dealer, and I wondered what else you’d done.”
He reached into the box and pulled out the machine part Anika had planted. Her facade wavered for a second. As she stared into her father’s eyes, she knew he’d seen her anguish. He’d won, and it was all Anika’s fault.
“You planted this yesterday, no?”
He wasn’t getting anything else. Nothing.
He grinned as he tossed in on the bed. “I couldn’t fathom how you’d drained the power from my machine, but then I remembered Sasha. If she could draw in that much power, she could have helped you escape. I wish I could have seen you girls in action. Marvelous.”
She had to warn Sasha.
“Did Gregory help you again? Oh, I know he’d never do it intentionally, but you’ve taken advantage of him before.”
Her head throbbed, but the pain eased.
He pointed at the part on the bed. “What is this supposed to do, huh? Did your mother put you up to this? Does she even know that every gift she has she got from me!”
Anika stared at the ceiling. Her mom was a part of her, a part of this experiment, but she owed him nothing, and that made Anika smile. Her mother would keep fighting. She’d protect Billie and the Mistys as best she could and would unleash fury against him.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “It’s all games until the end. I do wish I’d found another way.”
“You had sixteen years.” Anika bit her lip until she was sure it would pop with any more pressure. “Did you even try?”
He frowned, scratching through the grey mop on his head. “No.”
Anika gritted her teeth. “Why does it have to be me?”
“This was your destiny years before you were born. Each year of your life you’ve been perfecting my cure inside you. Perfection, and a shame to waste such a clever mind, but progress must be made. I cannot live without you.”
“It should be me.”
He raised a bushy eyebrow an inch. “What?”
“It’s my turn. I beat Kravel, your old partner. I saved George and Blake. I saved your stupid town from Pankina and killed her. You’ve had your chance, Dad. You wasted it.”
He nodded. “Perhaps we shall know for sure some day. I do intend to bring you back, if I can. Perhaps then we can talk of the future. For now, I have work to do. One more inspection and we shall be done, no?”
He grabbed the part, tossed it back in the box, and carried it out of the room. His whistling echoed down the hall until he left the infirmary.
Anika turned to Margery. “How long do I have?”
Margery frowned. “A few hours.”
“Why are you his slave?”
Margery picked up a clipboard and examined its contents. “It’s complicated.”
Anika knew Margery wasn’t about to help her, so she bit down on her tongue instead, hoping the pain would clear her head a little more. She needed a new plan, something amazing.
Margery dimmed the lights. “Boulsour is guarding the infirmary doors. Rest up. This will be over soon.”
When she left the room, Anika flung off the sheet and slid to the edge of the bed. Her head swam as she got up and tiptoed to the door. Even if Boulsour would let her go, which she knew he wouldn’t, Anika would never make it out of the lab. She’d never get to see her friends again. Or her mom. Or Billie.
She should have killed Macy when she had the chance.
Could she have even done it? Anika wasn’t sure. Her mother would have without a second thought. Macy was the enemy, and her mother was the soldier.
You failed me, Mom! She hadn’t turned Anika into a soldier or a warrior. Now her mother would pay the price for that oversight.
Anika peaked into the hallway. It was clear, so she stumbled across into Blake’s room and closed the door behind her. Blake was napping, ever the sleeping beauty. Anika grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of the door. It wasn’t going to keep her safe, but maybe they would give her some privacy.
She slid onto Blake’s bed and collapsed next to him. He stirred, but didn’t wake. She needed to make plans. There was a plan, just out of reach, that could save her. Somehow. She had to believe. She had to find some way to escape. Instead, she cuddled next to Blake and fell asleep.
“Anika.”
Anika stirred, her head pounding to the awful rhythm of the beeps coming from the medical equipment.
“Anika, are you there?” It was Linh. “Anika, please answer.”
What was Linh doing at t
he lab? It was too dangerous. She needed to get out of the lab. The city. As far away as possible.
Anika’s eyes fluttered open. She was in a hospital bed, lying next to Blake. His skin around his eyes fluctuated to a purple and back to pink. They were in the infirmary, and she was marked for death by her father’s own hand. Dramatic much?
Anika sat up, but the pain flared up in her cheek and her stomach was queasy, so she gave up and leaned back against the pillow. Apparently, she wasn’t as fast a healer as she’d hoped. Blake’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled until he examined her face. His smile faded.
Anika reached up and touched her throbbing cheek. She must look terrible. Maybe Macy had finally knocked some sense into her.
Blake took her hand. “What happened?”
“Shh.” Anika scanned the room. “Linh? Linh, where are you?”
“I broke into the lab’s inner systems.” Linh’s voice came from a machine hooked to the bed. “I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but I think you’re in trouble.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Anika slipped off the bed. The chair still sat under the doorknob, blocking the way in. They must have decided this room was as good a cell as any. Good. She had one last card to play. “He knows about Misty and Sasha. He knows how we got into the lab.”
Something crashed, a glass, on Linh’s end. “Anika, you have to get out of there.”
“Linh.” Anika dug around under Blake’s bed. Come on. It had to still be there. “These rooms have a robot nurse, like a machine with a scanner and needle. I need you to take control of it.Without being detected.”
Blake reached for her face, but settled on touching her shoulder. “What did they do to you?”
Anika smiled, which hurt way more than she thought a smile could hurt, and she’d had some rough ones. She wanted to tell him everything, to say goodbye properly, but she didn’t have time. “It’s not what they did I’m worried about.”
She dropped to her knees and peered under the bed. Her shoulders finally relaxed as she reached under the bed and pulled out Blake’s red satchel. Several times she’d almost given the drugs to Margery, but before she could get the words out, a labcoat would mention how useful the formula could be. Anika had always kept it back.
