by Josiah Upton
“I had a friend,” I say. “She shared with me some things, and planted the seeds of mistrust for the APA.”
“That sounds like a dangerous friend,” Quinn says, her eyebrow raised. “I may be old, but I can appreciate that.”
I nod, and the females separate from the males. I catch Alice’s gaze briefly, and she smiles before disappearing around the corner. Right after that Opha blows me a kiss, which I would usually ignore, but I can’t help but laugh. Ezra and the Brothers catch the exchange, and playfully hit and push me around. Regardless of whatever grand schemes Schutzhorne has, or what precarious scenario I have to navigate tomorrow at the reward rooms, it’s good to know that I have friends. I never thought I would find them in a place like this.
After the female members of the Brains Club are gone, and our officer starts leading us back to the Common, the doors to the Lock open. Robert Ortega steps out, followed by another officer that escorts a containee I have never seen before. But what catches my attention are two figures standing outside of a Lock cell, who both look completely out of place in the facility. Especially the light blue girl with white hair, with a face just like…
Genny. That can’t be her, that’s impossible. The last time I saw Genny, she had blonde hair, pale skin, and was safely within the care of her father. But this is her. I can smell her scent from here. It’s exactly as I had remembered, but with something more. Something mature. My heart starts pumping, realizing that for the first time ever, the girl I love is affecting my Lust. She is a woman. And though I can’t begin to comprehend her unusual appearance, she can only be described as beautiful.
But who is the man? I can’t see his face. I sniff again, and memories of violence and aggression flood me. Dalton. He leans toward her, and I almost break into an awkward Hybrid run to stop him, afraid that he is going to hit her.
Except he kisses her. My every muscle strains with hatred. But what breaks me is when she leans into him and kisses back. The flesh of his mouth against her willing lips, the shared breath and saliva of their passion. The last thing I see before the Lock door closes is her arms wrapping around him, her fingers clutching tightly to the flesh of his back.
Caesar was right. It was all a lie.
Chapter 41
Zaul
She doesn’t love you. She never did. No one could ever love a monster like you. And all of this was for nothing.
My heart won’t stop pounding. I can feel it in my head, like I’m about to explode. And I can’t keep still, either. My feet move me aimlessly around the Common, not stopping in any one place for too long. It keeps my body busy, and less likely to lash out at the first thing that annoys me for longer than one second. Because right now, everything is a flash point for my Rage. Everything my eyes fall upon is something my hands want to rip apart and crush.
So I’m just avoiding it all, and have been for the past 24 hours. Even Ezra has left me alone, only attempting once to ask what was wrong, which I answered with an inhuman growl. The hardest part was at night, during lights-out, when any containee caught moving around gets a shock. I had to lay down in silence and stillness, the image of their kiss replaying over and over again in my head…
“Hey,” a voice calls out from behind me. Whoever it is, I already want them dead. I turn around to see Thumb, and his band of undead followers. The last time I spoke with him, he called me weak. In my current state, resisting this will be impossible. “One say… him got food room, or break room, or sexy room. Trade?” he asks, pointing at the lines in the Common floor where the stacks of beds rise out of at night. “Want top bed?”
Between his strength, aggression and years spent in this facility, Thumb has worked his way up to the top of this particular set of beds. For him and many other containees, this is their only asset, the only advantage they have over the others below them. Pathetic. Regardless of how close to the ceiling you are at night, you’re still trapped in this terrible place, eating liquefied animal carcasses, and getting shocks for looking at an officer wrong. You’ll never get to share that top bed with anyone. Because everyone hates you.
I don’t want his stupid bed, and I don’t want to look at his stupid face. I want to break it. “Walk away, Thumb,” I grumble through gritted teeth, and step sideways to go around.
“Or what?” he says, getting in my way again. “You get boyfriends to kiss me?”
His crew laughs, and I pivot to see Ezra, Walt and Rich approaching. Their shoulders are broad, their chests puffed with air. They’re coming to my rescue. Members look out for one another! I wish they would go away. I wish everyone would just go away.
“You got a problem, Thumb?” Ezra asks. He nods at the limited digits on Thumb’s right hand. “Or do you need help counting past six?”
“Little Ugger,” Thumb says. “So smart, but so small. What ‘bout, you give room, and we don’t kill. Yes?”
Walt and Rich step forward. “And you’ll kill us, too?” Rich asks.
Thumb chuckles, and raises his arms. More containees come to join his ranks, about one third of the Common. I don’t know how or when he’s gotten them under his command, but the handful of containees he keeps close are only a fraction of them all. “I Director in here. Them listen to me. I say kill, them kill. I say eat, them eat you. I not want to eat Ugger, but will. Brains Club not so smart, when all brains are eaten gone.”
“Get lost,” Ezra spits. “Before we take the rest of your fingers.”
He’s trying his best to be brave, despite the quivering in his voice. And maybe if it was him against a few unarmed humans, he’d make it out on top. But there’s too many Hybrids by Thumb’s side, and their strength matches or exceeds Ezra’s. He’s going to get himself hurt, and I’ll be caught right in the middle of it.
The smile dissolves from Thumb’s face, and he shoves Ezra’s shoulder. So it’s a fight. I clench my fists, and look to the brothers. They nod. We’re severely outnumbered, but there is no other choice. We can’t back down from this. I won’t.
But to my surprise, other Hybrids come to stand behind us. Containees that Ezra has spoken with, ones that he’s secured meat pipes for when they’ve missed out on a few meals. And I know it was his incessant need to talk to someone that drove him, but right now that’s providing an advantage. They bring our numbers to match Thumb’s, and the Common is set for a large scale brawl.
The officers around the perimeter take notice, getting their remotes ready, yet still eager to see a show. I step forward to Thumb. “This is your last chance to leave. Say one more word to me or my friends, and I’ll rip your jaw off.”
Thumb narrows his white eyes, a smirk on his gray lips. “Weak.”
That’s one word. I move forward, digging my fingers into his mouth, placing my others on his forehead, and pull apart. He bites down, but his jaw muscles aren’t stronger than the ones in my hands. He screams, and hits my body with one closed fist and one fingerless hand. Other containees start battling around us, throwing punches and wrestling on the ground. This is the largest fight I’ve seen in here. I think it’s something called a riot.
Just when I’ve wrapped my hands around Thumb’s throat and start to squeeze, my collar goes off. All our collars go off, all at once. Regardless of intellect, years in containment or whose “side” we’ve trivially chosen, everyone is on the ground.
When it stops, I notice Ezra a few feet over, struggling to get back up. “I didn’t know they could shock us all at the same time like that.”
“Yeah,” he says, his breath heavy. “They could do the whole facility at once if they wanted to – Male Common, Fem-Com, even the Lock. It’s rare, but it’s happened.” Once standing, he extends his hand to pull me up. “Thanks, Zaul.”
I nod. “Members look out for each other.”
Fillinger’s voice comes on over the speakers. “Hope it was worth it, Uggers. That just cost you your next meal.” All over the Common, Hybrids shout in protest. “Want to make it two? Then shut your filthy mouths.
And Numbers 1298, 1299, 1759 and 1822… Come to the yellow line immediately.”
Since I was the one that started this massive brawl, I assume I’ll be getting a more severe punishment than everyone else. Perhaps they’ll put me in the Lock, and I can finally get some time away from everything. But unfortunately it looks like Ezra, Walt and Rich are getting punished along with me. So much for Members look out for each other. We all walk slowly to the yellow line, still disoriented from the shock.
“Yes?” I say to Fillinger, who stands stiffly on the other side.
He punches in my numbers on his remote, then waves us over. “Cross the line. You’re all coming with me.”
“To the Lock?” I ask, stepping cautiously over the yellow paint on the floor. Sometimes I suspect they don’t clear my collar, and that I’ll be shocked for their amusement when I cross. I’ve seen it happen to other containees. “It was me that started this. Don’t put them in there, too.”
“You’re not going to the Lock,” he says. “That’s where you should be going, for that chaos you caused. But Dr. Tran is summoning you for your reward room, while the rest of you have your regularly-scheduled pow-wow. Just know that you’ll receive your due punishment when you least suspect it, 1822.” He smiles briefly, then scowls again. “Move it, Uggers.”
The quiet trip after dropping off the others at the library leaves my mind to wander again, and not even the prospect of my reward time can keep me from remembering the willing and enthusiastic kiss Genny shared with Dalton. Through my returning Rage, other considerations fill my head as well, particularly why Genny looked the way she did, and what she and Dalton were doing in the Lock. Her appearance can only be explained by the transformation that was already underway when I last spoke to Gordon. She did smell like a woman, so the transformation was complete. But if she was Hybrid, wouldn’t she be at home, with Gordon as her guardian?
Something happened, either to her guardianship, or her father. And I can only assume that Caesar had something to do with it. We walk past the Lock, and I wonder if she’s still in there. I sniff, but nothing stands out. Robert Ortega was leaving the Lock that day. Perhaps if I didn’t hate her and Dalton so much, I would ask him what was going on. But I do. All I care about now is stepping foot in the Rage Room again, and this time expelling all my hatred through violence and destruction.
We pass through the Rec Room door, and the large maze that was here yesterday is gone. But also gone are the large cloths covering the signs above the three doors, now brightly lit up. The Rage Room, Lust Lounge and Hunger Hall are once again open. Whatever Tran and Schutzhorne’s motives are for rewarding Hybrid Reanimates, I don’t care right now. I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to do.
Dr. Tran stands in the middle of the Rec Room, joined by a couple assistants. Since Opha isn’t here I can assume she didn’t pick me for the Lust Lounge, and I won’t have to choose between Aggression Management Solutions and Libido Restraint Alleviation Therapy. Good. No tension, no conflict in having to choose.
“The time has finally come!” Tran says brightly. “Welcome, Zaul!”
“Number 1822,” Fillinger corrects sternly. “He’s still a containee on my watch. Look, Doc. I don’t know whose bright idea it was to let these Uggers feed their evil desires over the next seven days, but if any of them come back from this deviant daycare all riled up and thinking they can get away with shit, you can bet your lab coat I’m putting in a formal complaint.”
“You needn’t worry, Officer Fillinger,” Tran says. “After each session, the containees will be given considerable medication, and a cool-down period. Besides, the members of the Higher Functioning Hybrid Reanimate Echelon are of the highest intelligence and restraint. They know how to control themselves.”
“Apparently you didn’t hear what this little Sludge-stain just did in the Common,” Fillinger snaps. He might not be Caesar, but he’s still hard and hateful. He might even be worse than Krecker was. “Don’t go bragging about this when you get back to the Common. And don’t tell me all about it on the way back. I have an anniversary dinner with the wife, and I don’t want my stomach or my pecker ruined for the evening.”
After he leaves, Tran turns to me and frowns. “What did you do in the Common, Zaul?”
“Lost my temper, attacked another containee,” I say honestly. I might not trust Tran’s actions or agenda, but I’ve never felt the need to hide things from him. Yet. “I started a small riot, everyone got a shock.”
Tran shakes his head. “You’re better than that, Zaul. Remember Schutzhorne’s presentation? You are a leader among your peers, and they’re looking to you for guidance.”
My eyes catch sight of the Rage Room, hoping it is freshly stocked with wonderfully fragile things for my hands to destroy. I don’t want to wait any longer, so I play along. “I know, Dr. Tran. I want to be a role model for those around me, but sometimes I get so frustrated. I even used your breathing techniques, but my aggression got the best of me. I’ll just have to try harder next time.”
I tilt my head slightly towards the three doors. “Perhaps a little release will help me work things out.”
Tran laughs. “Yes, Zaul. Our hopes are that these reward rooms will aid each member in the management of their Hybrid symptoms. People like Director Ortega would disagree, and getting him to officially sign off on this was more difficult than it seemed. But his attitude is coming from an older, less comprehensive model of Hybrid Reanimate care. When he is no longer capable of holding his position, things will begin to shift in this Facility, paving the way for Schutzhorne’s vision. You can expect more rewards for good behavior in the future.”
“Of course,” I say, a little wary of the way he speaks about Robert Ortega. It’s almost as if the shifts have already begun, and they’re just waiting for him to die of old age. At the very least, though, Caesar won’t replace him. A man like that would never agree with Schutzhorne’s “vision”. Wherever he is, I doubt he’ll step foot in this place again. That’s one sliver of good news.
“Now,” Tran says, turning to the doors. “You have some options.”
“Options?” I ask. “I already made my pick. Aggression Management Solutions. Didn’t you get my paper?”
“I did,” he answers. “And if that’s what you want, then by all means, step up to that first door. But the others made their choices too, and someone picked you.”
I swallow hard, looking to the Lust Lounge. The Prisoner inside is thrashing around wildly, licking his lips greedily. Either way, he gets what he wants. I’d just hoped I wouldn’t have to negotiate between my desire for destruction, and my want for sexual gratification. “Opha....”
“Alice,” Tran corrects.
Alice…
Alice? The quiet one that barely makes a noise? That one that seems Hybrid in appearance alone? I think back to our brief conversation, to the fleeting moments of eye contact. Was she trying to lay the groundwork for this? How long had she decided on me? I’m left feeling lost. Of course Opha would be forward enough for this, but not Alice.
“I could hardly believe it myself,” Tran says. “Her Libido Restraint level is a two, and I’ve never seen her act out any of her symptoms, even Rage. She’s the most internalized Hybrid I’ve ever met. But I suppose that makes knowing what she wants a complete mystery. It could be anything. As of now, it appears she wants you. If you agree to her invitation, you will have to wait three days until it is her time for reward room. And she submitted her choice first, so she gets first say on you. If you decline her, there’s still one more invitation to consider.”
“One more?” I ask. So Opha picked me after all. Of course she did.
“So, what’s it going to be, Zaul?” Tran asks. “Door Number One now, or Door Number Two later?”
All my undead life I’ve been taught that sexual gratification for something like me is vile, dangerous, and ultimately impossible. Now I have not one but two exceptions to that rule, two willing participants to quiet m
y Prisoner, and give me something I’ve never had, yet have always ached for. And no one gets hurt.
Except for Genny. The one that hurt me first, with her lies and betrayal. She came into this place after I willingly gave up my freedom for her future, and she kissed my enemy on the lips. Right in front of me. Her love was a lie, and my sacrifice was in vain. This pain, this loneliness, drives me to one simple conclusion.
“Door Number Two,” I say. “I choose Alice.”
Chapter 42
Genny
Hours, days, weeks… nearly a month? I have no idea how long I’ve been locked in this room. Without clock or window, the passage of time eludes me. The only thing that comes at regular intervals are the little Mortetine pills dropping through the hole by the door, and the disgusting pumping of carnivorous goo at the hose from the wall. Both at the same time. But Director Ortega didn’t tell me how often these doses and “meals” were served before he locked me in here. For all I know it could be every couple of hours, or once a day. Maybe less.
In any case, I am going insane.
At first all I could think about was the death of my father. Reliving the moment Caesar appeared on the other side of that garage door, reaching up and pulling the trigger. Holding my dad in the back of the Jeep as he faded away. I experienced it over and over, and cried enough tears to drown myself in this tiny little box. And not a single soul to share my pain, or anything to distract my thoughts. It was what I could best describe as Hell.
When I finally resolved to forsake those memories (at least for now), my mind moved to what I should expect next. How long until Robert opens this door again? What is his plan for releasing me without Schutzhorne knowing? Will Dalton help, and make good on his foolish promise?
And the kiss we shared. That stupid, mindless kiss. I’ve had plenty of time to think about that. I would alternate between Lustful fantasies dancing through my head, and crippling guilt at the thought of betraying Zaul. I even began to second guess my love for the undead boy who sacrificed himself to save me from this place. Our kiss seemed so long ago, in a human body I no longer occupy. The one I shared with Dalton was to the satisfaction of my burning, inhuman desire. With passion and abandon. And it happened just yesterday.
