And on the other side of the house a room that had once held Trevor’s mom was now empty.
“Just because we can’t see it, doesn’t mean there isn’t a pattern,” Wesley argued.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Cameron reiterated, staring at the ceiling. “All I’m saying is, does it even matter? Pattern, no pattern. Random, planned. The result is the same.”
A new beep came from the back of the cabin signaling they had lost power. The generator outside was the type that immediately kicked on without so much as a flicker. The power cuts were becoming more frequent and with dangerous fuel shortages on the horizon, they had to conserve what little they had left. During a blackout, they only used the generator to power Wesley’s machines. Nothing else.
Each person stood and attended to their specific tasks, moving like a well-oiled machine themselves, the beep their trigger. Wesley reset the trip to alert when the power came back on. Trevor turned off the lights while Cameron and Penelope lit candles and oil lamps. They worked without acknowledging the loss of power.
Instead of returning to their original positions, they all gathered around the table as if feasting on a pile of electronics.
Cameron fidgeted with a cable before grunting again. “I’m sick of sitting around talking like a bunch of theorists. We need to act!”
“At least we’re relatively safe,” Penelope replied. “It gives us time to think.”
“And maybe the time for thinking is over.”
“And what the hell do you propose we do? Break in? Pull out the power?” she said with a bored yawn.
Wesley cleared his throat. “I can’t recommend that as an ideal course of action.”
Cameron groaned. “I know it’s not that simple, but my point stands. The longer we sit around, the more people die, like I have to tell anyone in this room that.”
She gave him a warning look. They’d only just started earning Trevor’s trust. Cam thought she was overprotective, that the world had changed and he was more adjusted than she gave him credit for. She figured the less they reminded him about how his family died, the better, especially since his mother was barely cold in the ground.
The boy didn’t react or respond, but continued to sit and pick at his nails under the table. Desperate to take the conversation away from something explosive, Penelope brought them back to the topic at hand.
“If we can figure out the pattern, then maybe we can anticipate their next move,” she offered.
Cameron leveled a harsh gaze at her from across the table. “They. Their,” he sneered. “Can we at least use the right pronouns? He. Him!”
“Steele Industries did.”
“Your brother is Steele Industries. He’s the one who got us into this mess.”
This time, Trevor did react. He looked up with the most reproachful teenage look she’d ever received.
“Estranged brother,” she clarified. “Remember, that’s my husband tied up in there. It’s not like I had anything to do with this.”
The silence was so palpable, even Wesley shifted nervously. No one looked each other in the eye, each carrying a different burden of guilt.
“How much closer are you to understanding the last attack?” Penelope asked Wesley.
He shook his head with disgust. “All I know is the Seeds are now able to communicate with each other. As for the how and why? It’s beyond me. I can’t even block it properly.”
It was the first time in days she’d heard the man string more than a few words and grunts together. Hoping he was in a sharing mood, she prodded further. “Is that what you’ve been trying to do?”
“Originally, yes, but the technology has moved further and faster than I could’ve imagined. I can’t keep up.”
Her chest tightened for the man she’d come to care for in a strange way. “You were cut off. No one expects you to—”
“I expect it,” he snapped. He kicked his chair away and dropped to the floor in a plank position. She’d come to learn where the source of his bizarre speed and strength came from. Any time he was stuck on a particularly difficult problem, he would pound out hundreds of push-ups, sit-ups, hold a plank for minutes at a time. He claimed the physical pain clarified his mind. After weeks together, the habit now seemed normal.
Cameron cradled his head, elbow on the table. “If I could see it, plainly. On a map, in a list. That’s how we spotted the first grown pattern.”
“But we have no way of knowing how many people have died since then. I doubt even the government knows that exact number,” she said.
“Or the spread, I don’t know. Are the cities still the epicenters or has it spread everywhere equally? Is one race prone to it over another? A blood type. A breakfast cereal. Something! Something ties these people together, fine. I’ll admit that. But we will never have that information, so let’s stop dwelling on it.”
She ran the tip of her tongue along the edges of her teeth. “I understand your point.”
“Why don’t you just get people to disable them? There’s a video online and everything,” the teenager mumbled.
“What kind of video?” she asked softly, stopping herself just short of reaching out for his hand.
“You haven’t seen it?” When she shook her head, he laughed once. “That’s what you get for living under a rock.”
Trevor pulled up a video on his cuff and projected it on the flat of a far wall. It was the most sophisticated cuff she’d seen in person and was about to comment on it when he pressed play.
A pretty girl with dark skin and bright blue eyes smiled thinly at the camera. “You probably don’t know me, but my name is Kristine McCay and I’m a freelance investigative journalist.”
“Sorry. This is all the boring stuff. I’ll skip ahead and—”
Cameron and Penelope yelled at the same time. “No!” “Wait!”
Trevor raised his hand as if surrendering at gunpoint and let it play. In the short video, Kristine didn’t outright blame Steele Industries for the plague, but accused them of not acting fast enough. She claimed there was an easy way to disable the Seed using a dark towel or blanket and blue lights, explaining it was the safest course of action.
The adults in the room shared worried looks.
“This is the shit I was afraid of,” Wesley finally groaned, collapsing into his chair. “What did I tell you? My worst fucking nightmare…” He grabbed his elbows with opposite hands and rested his arms on top of his head. “Bullshit.”
Cam sucked on the inside of his cheek as he thought. “Is that who I think it was?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” she nodded, looking at the frozen image of Kristine.
“Pretty.”
“Yeah, my brother’s a lucky guy,” she replied wryly. “Trevor, do you know how many—” Her question fell short when she looked down to see the boy doubled over in silent sobs. She knelt at his feet. “Sweetie! What’s the matter?”
Through his wet, clasped hands he sniffed, “It’s my fault. I tried to get them to, but they wouldn’t.”
Penelope winced and met Cameron’s eyes over the boy’s head. “Your family?”
He nodded. “Mom didn’t trust it, said they could be messing around with all kinds of things in my head.”
“But you did it? You disabled your implant?”
Wesley’s chair creaked as he leaned forward, the conversation becoming more interesting.
Trevor nodded again. With a shaky breath, he straightened and tried to recover. “I figured it was just lights. Like, I bought them at the dollar store. How bad could it be?” He shook his head, suddenly looking so much older, regret etching into his young face. “I should’ve forced them somehow.”
“There’s no way you could’ve known,” Cameron said gruffly, trying to comfort him.
Penelope’s cuff buzzed, setting her heart off. “There’s a call.” Even though she didn’t want to leave Trevor in such a vulnerable moment, they couldn’t chance missing anything important. Grabbing the fla
shlight hung by the door, she flew out of the door. What if it’s Jackie? What if something happened to… She pushed the thoughts from her mind as she sprinted to the car.
Relief and confusion flooded her system as she recognized Kristine’s number. As they spoke, the ground beneath her feet shifted again. She was only just coming to terms with the idea her brother was responsible for even a fraction of the violence. He was always like their father, driven and determined to succeed, but not a murderer. In the years since they’d last spoken, if he’d headed down a dark road… there’s no telling what he could’ve been capable of. But to hear that even he might be under the influence shook the fragile foundation she’d managed to form.
Penelope’s legs felt as heavy and ungainly as a couple of tree trunks. She trudged her way back to the house, heart still racing from the latest news. They had a long night ahead of them and she wasn’t sure how Cameron was going to take the update about Dr. Lal. She expected to be the one bringing the chaos. She never thought she’d be walking into it.
All three of them were standing, hovering over the machines in the center of the room. She froze in the doorway as Wesley whizzed past, nearly knocking into her as he sprinted to the other side of the table.
“What’s going on?”
“It just started, like, a minute ago,” Trevor replied. He backed away as he spoke, looking like an animal ready to bolt at the slightest hint of danger.
The machines beeped and whirred, their measurements feeding data into a collection of tablets and repurposed electronics. She didn’t bother asking Wesley to clarify what it all meant.
Cameron gave the old man space. He stood coiled, ready to spring into action, yet his expression betrayed the impotence he felt. There was nothing they could do. They could only watch. For all their knowledge and
And just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The room fell quiet. Everyone froze, as if their movements might interfere with the signal. The flickering candles and light from flashlights cast shadows across their faces.
“What the fuck was that?” Wesley demanded of the machines, of the universe.
She tiptoed around the perimeter, meeting Cameron by the sink. They spoke in low voices, afraid to earn the wrath of the mad scientist.
“Who called?”
“Kristine. Do you want the bad news or worse news?”
Cameron breathed out sharply through his nose. “Ease me into it. Bad news first.”
“Your friend, Lal… he was just killed trying to break into the White House. He apparently tried to kill the President.”
With tight, incredulous eyes, he tried to read if she was joking or not. A part of her wanted to laugh, pretend like it was all a big joke. Could you imagine if that were true? she’d say. I don’t even know the guy and know that’s bizarre.
“And the worse news?”
Penelope looked to the center of the room, unwilling to watch his reaction. “Kristine says Jamie is showing signs of control.”
“You’re shitting me…” His shoulder brushed hers as he leaned against the counter. The slight contact was comforting, centering. They watched Wesley curse and slap the machines, trying to find the source of the power cut. “You believe her?”
“Why would she lie?”
“To make it seem like she’s in more danger than she is? To lure us out there to rescue her and your unborn niece or nephew?”
She looked at him in awe. Her mind hadn’t gone anywhere near that line of thinking. She’d known Cameron for a long time and come to accept his dark world view, but this was beyond cynical.
“Do you really—”
The room exploded with a cacophony of sound. On the opposite side of the room, Trevor flew to the wall, hands at his ears. He looked ready to jump out of the window at the slightest provocation.
Wesley was like Dr. Frankenstein resurrecting his monster. “Yes!” He dove straight back in, tweaking and fine-tuning.
“She was scared, saying that they might be planning something big. She didn’t know what, but…” Penelope gestured to the manic scene in front of them. “I came back into this.”
“I can press a button and blame it on someone else, too,” he glowered, watching Wesley.
“Cam, honestly…”
Somehow, through the din of beeps, Wesley’s footfalls, and mutterings, she heard a noise come from the back of the cabin.
Joey.
Cameron was closer by a few feet and obviously heard it too. He charged from the room before she could stop him.
“Wait!”
He slipped from the grip of her fingertips. She gave chase, dread flooding every fiber of her being as she plunged into the dark hallway. Something whacked against her stomach and arm as she ran and she remembered she still had the flashlight hung from her wrist. She flicked it on in time to see Cameron’s heels disappear into Joey’s room.
“Don’t hurt him!” she screamed.
Penelope nearly ran into Cameron’s back as she flung herself into the room. He put a protective arm across her body but stepped aside enough for her to see. Without thinking, she shined the flashlight straight onto him. He winced and tried to cover his eyes from the sudden brightness. She pointed it to the floor, the blue-white LEDs chasing away the shadows.
“What’s the matter? I heard the beeping and…”
“Do you feel anything? Anything happening to you, like before?” She tried to push through Cameron’s arm but he wouldn’t budge. He kept the pair of them just out of reach.
“No, nothing. Pen, you’re really scaring me. Is something going to happen to me again?”
“No, baby, I’m not going to let anything happen.” She shoved Cameron out of the way and he only doubled his footing. “Goddamnit, he’s already tied up! Will you just let me—”
His eyes burned in the low light as he whispered, “When was the last time he said a single kind word to you?”
“He’s scared!”
“Look at his eyes.”
Joey’s pupils completely consumed any color. She pushed at his shoulder again, but with much weaker resolve.
The distant beeps from down the hall filled the silence in the room. He looked so fragile and terrified. She saw the face of their little girl reflected in his features and wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Cameron didn’t know him the way she did. There was no way he could’ve been acting. He was truly fearful.
“Pen, you gotta get me…”
At first, she thought it was a trick of light, a shadow bouncing awry. But she refocused on his face. Cameron saw the change too. The muscles under her fingers tensed. It was as though his face drained of all humanity, as if her husband had been instantly replaced with an identical wax figure. Not a hair or muscle moved, not to blink, not to correct his balance. The effect was subtle and subconsciously terrifying. She let Cameron push her back, out of the room and against the wall of the hallway.
“Don’t you dare go near him,” he hissed before rushing to collect either Wesley, a weapon, or both.
She kept the flashlight shining at his knees, the light refracting up to give his mannequin-like expression a sinister look. Despite the chaos in the house, a little calm bubble formed around them. She sucked in shallow breaths, struggling to remain in the hallway.
“What’s happening? Are you in pain? Joey, talk to me. Please.”
His jaw fell open and he uttered a single phrase. “Jasmine belt.” His eyes closed. Opened. Focused directly on her.
“Penny baby, you gotta get me out of here. I’m worried about Anna.”
There wasn’t an ounce of fear in his voice, only cold manipulation. Cunning intelligence returned to his gaze, his mouth curling into a vicious smile. She was feet away from the outer edge of his reach, but she pressed herself even harder against the wall.
Cameron was at her side again. She couldn’t bring herself to check what weapon he’d grabbed, but instinctively knew it was. He was equally disturbed by the change in Joey as well. “What the fuck…
”
Joey’s chin tilted slightly to his left. His eyes snapped from hers to Cameron’s. “Ah. The one who got away. How long do you think you’d have to bide your time before my wife finally fucked you? Put in the we’re-just-friends work before slipping back into her life for good?”
Despite her fear, her cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment. If the comment angered Cameron in any way, he didn’t show it. Instead, he spoke quietly without taking his eyes off him.
“What happened while I was gone?”
“He froze, then he said something, and turned into this.”
Joey strained against this restraints, the rope visibly digging into his flesh. “What are the two lovers whispering about now?”
“Go get Wesley,” he commanded her.
She stayed put and didn’t even bother arguing with him. “Once the beeping stops, he’ll calm down.”
Cam whispered through clenched teeth. “This is different.”
Joey snarled, lashing out like a wild animal. “Whisper, whisper, whisper. Behind my back. To my face.” His nostrils flared. While his posture didn’t change, his tone did, calmer, almost hurt. “Did you ever love me? I know I can’t measure up to GI Joe here, but did even a part of you love me at some point?”
The flashlight in her hand trembled with rage and shock. She wanted to respond but knew she couldn’t give him the satisfaction. With her lips pressed tight, she prayed for the machines to silence, for this all to end.
Cameron urged her away with a hand on her hip. She clapped her own hand over it, nails digging in like warning claws.
“Did you ever love Anna? Maybe it was stupid of me to think she could save our marriage. Even a baby couldn’t warm your frigid heart.”
Cameron’s fingers laced with hers for support. The gesture was apparently Joey’s breaking point. His eyes dropped to the contact, noticing it for the first time. A wholly inhumane roar erupted from his throat, the veins and tendons standing stark against his thin skin.
STASIS: Part 3: Restart Page 23
