Perfect Copy

by Judith Gaines

  Roman smiled and rolled his eyes, “I’ll try, but to just let you know, flash cards are boring.”

  “Fair enough. Go get a puzzle.”

  Roman ran to the study where she kept a stash of his toys. She put together a small tray with cheese toast and soup warmed in the microwave. Edward hadn’t eaten most of the day. The casserole would cook for at least an hour, so that gave her time to regroup.

  One more night, she thought as she pushed backward through the kitchen’s swinging door. One more night of Mathew stalking them and making them wait to see what he would do next. She called out for Roman to follow her upstairs and went up.

  Edward was looking slightly better, his breathing more regular.

  “Edward?” He opened an eye and looked relieved, although he made no move to sit up.

  “I brought you something to eat,” she said, putting the tray beside the bed. She helped Edward sit forward and placed an extra pillow behind his back. He finally seemed to gather his energy and muttered thanks.

  Roman entered the bedroom with quiet dignity, eyeing Edward and staying back from the bed.

  “You need to watch that child.”

  “Roman is just fine, and we haven’t seen Mathew all day; we’ll be safe locked in here tonight.” Brina set the tray across Edward’s lap and handed him a napkin.

  “No, I mean you need to watch the child,” Edward repeated in a hushed voice. His eyes darted to Roman, who looked on with a somber expression, the puzzle box clutched to his chest.

  “Edward, he can still hear you,” she whispered back, shooting Roman a glance. He smiled back.

  Edward shook his head in frustration, “He is made up almost exactly like the monster tormenting us. They’re trying to kill me.”

  Brina put a finger to Edward’s wrist, checking his pulse. She had no idea if it was normal or not, but it seemed steady. She would have Russ check him as soon as he came up. “Edward. Roman is exactly what you see right now. He has not learned to lie, or hate, or harm anyone or anything. I know you’ve had a rough two days, but really, Roman’s very good.”

  “But he tried to kill me!”

  “How did Roman try to kill you?” Brina put his wrist down and took a long hard look at Edward. His color was rosier, and his eyes less sunken. His energy, though, seemed to feed on something other than his health.

  “He gave me water that was drugged.”

  “He gave you water that I put in a pitcher and instructed him to pour for you.”

  “He bit me.”

  “I’d bite you, too. You’re a pain in the ass.” Brina got up and crossed the room. “By the way, I quit, and I think Russ plans on doing the same thing. That is, if we get out of here alive.” She sat in the armchair and pulled a small side table out from the wall. Roman picked up on her idea, pulled the desk chair over, and dumped the puzzle pieces.

  “Don’t say you haven’t been warned.” Edward turned his attention to the tray and bit into his sandwich. “Who made the food?” he asked with a full mouth.

  “I did,” answered Brina. “In case you’re wondering, it’s not drugged.” She shook her head and smiled at Roman, who stifled a laugh behind his hand.

  Outside, the sound of an engine catching penetrated the window. Brina pulled the drapery back and looked down. “Russ is trying to get the truck moving.” There were a few more revs before the engine died.

  “There’s too much snow,” she said. She watched Russ get out and check the chains, then let the fabric drop back in place. “It’s too far for us to walk out of here.”

  “Russ is out there alone?” asked Edward.

  “He’ll be in soon.”

  “You should be there, too. Mathew is less likely to come at both of you at the same time.”

  “Russ has protection, and besides, I can’t leave Roman alone with you. I don’t trust what you might do to him.”

  “Don’t trust me?” Edward’s color went from rosy to purple.

  “Keep it up and we won’t have to worry about packing you out of here.”

  “Tegretol, that’s what they tried to kill me with.”

  “Who, Edward?” Brina slapped a puzzle piece to the table and looked at him, exasperated.

  “Mathew and Roman.”

  Brina looked at Roman, who was glancing between the two of them but pointedly staying out of the conversation. She knew very well that he understood every word of it. “Roman, did you try to kill Edward?”

  “No, I gave him water like I was told.”

  “Did you bite him?”

  “Yes, but he kicked me first.”

  Brina threw her hands up. “There, he doesn’t lie. He bit you and gave you water just like you said, and if you ever kick him again, I will leave your sorry ass on a snow drift.”

  Brina took a deep breath, shaking it all the way down to the tips of her wool socks. Roman watched her with raised brows, and then went back to working the puzzle.

  She refused to look at Edward. If he hadn’t been weakened with illness, she would have just crossed the line into dangerous territory with him. She had no doubt that Edward and the original Mathew Roman disposed of problems such as her.

  The room was uncomfortably silent as Edward ate his soup and she and Roman matched up the puzzle borders. He’d selected a 500-piece puzzle depicting a mountain skyline in autumn. He was eerily fast at recognizing shapes and fitting them together. While she’d been arguing with Edward, Roman had completed two of the outer sides and had filled in several adjoining pieces.

  After awhile, the tension eased off, and she heard the security chime from downstairs. She looked out the window. The truck was still in the same spot, but two dirty tracks marred the top of the snowdrift. It was almost dark.

  “Here, take this one.” She handed off a piece to Roman and pointed to where it should go. “I’m going to bring dinner up. You stay here and keep working.”

  Roman looked over at Edward. His eyes were closed, but she doubted he was asleep.

  “Just keep away from him,” she told Roman. “Come get me if he bothers you, okay?”

  “Okay.” Roman crossed his legs underneath him and propped his elbows on the table. “Are we sleeping in here?”

  “I think so. We’ll get more blankets, though, and make it like a camp out.”

  Roman sat up straight. “Can I have a tent?”

  “How do you know about tents?”

  “It’s in the book about the bear. Remember, you read it to me.”

  Brina recalled the exact book, as well as the time and circumstances when she had read that story. He was just coming off the sedatives Edward and Russ used and was barely able to focus his eyes. Russ had told her she was wasting her time because he was too far gone at the time to understand anything.

  “We’ll make it together; it’ll be fun.” She leaned over and brushed a kiss on the top of his head. Her eyes were heavy and every part of her body hurt, but she plowed through it and kept moving. She took Edward’s tray and headed down the stairs for what seemed to be the thousandth time in the past two days.

  She made a point of looking both ways down the hall and into the study as she passed the door. She didn’t have the nerve to look into the lab. It was quiet, and she reasoned anyone down there would make noise because of the echo the tile floor and bare walls produced.

  She pushed into the kitchen and stopped dead. Mathew, or at least a warped, bizarre version of him, sat at the counter eating a bowl of cereal. She screamed. The tray clattered to the floor, leaving Edward’s soup bowl cracked with the shards scattered in five directions. She ran back into the hall and heard Mathew coming through the door, cussing and kicking the tray out of the way.

  “Russ!” She ran for the stairs, but felt a hand on her shirt pulling her backward. She stumbled and fell into a heap on the rug, which smelled musty up close, its pattern swirling out of focus. Brina turned over, kicking out.

  Mathew simply stepped out of the way, laughing.

  “Russ!” s
he screamed again.

  Mathew squatted at her feet, giving her a sympathetic look. “Russ won’t be coming to dinner.” He gave her a smirk as he spoke, as though they were friendly neighbors.

  “Where’s Russ?” Brina backed away, inching up the stairs. Mathew darted a hand at her ankle and laughed as she jerked away.

  “Russ is having a little car trouble; he said not to wait on him. By the way, what is it? It smells wonderful.”

  “I just saw Russ and he’s on his way inside.” She chanced a glance at the front door, hoping to see his familiar outline through the window. The shadow from the front porch obscured the glass, giving her instead a reflection of Mathew’s profile.

  He took Russ’ gun from his pocket and laid it on the floor. “One’s missing; you might want to take a look.”

  Brina recognized it and contained her shaking only by sheer determination. Missing, he’d said—an image flashed. Mathew rocked on his heels as he watched her. He still wore the park ranger’s jacket with Cabot embroidered on the chest. His short buzzed hair pointed in every direction at once, and his face, although so much like Mathew Roman’s, was aging with a mask-like effect over smaller, sharper bones.

  It took time for her to think about what he had said. Brina struggled to keep her voice steady. “One’s missing. You were the one missing . . . in the photos?”

  “Me and about a half dozen others, but that’s not what I meant.” He picked the gun up and released the clip before putting it in his coat pocket.

  Chapter 35

  Brina counted to five, calculating her run and visualizing how she would break free if he grabbed her again. His eyes were manic. It was an expression she’d never seen outside of a movie, and it was terrifying. Her mind raced over everything Russ and Edward had said about the other offspring. They were all unstable. She had thought that was just physical, but now she knew that was just the tip of it.

  She turned and bolted for the stairs. As she expected, his hands closed around her ankle and pulled. She made a quick roll and kicked at his head with her other foot. He yelled when the second attempt hit him square in the ear.

  Brina’s head bounced on the bottom step as he pulled her to him, flattening her to the floor, with his hands pinning her arms over her head. Brina struggled to get her knee up, turning her head from his invading breath, as his tongue forced its way into her mouth.

  Suddenly, the weight lifted from her chest, and she opened her eyes to see what he had coming next.

  Russ loomed over them both. He had a bookend from the study, which he slammed against Mathew’s head. Mathew slumped to the floor across her legs.

  She pulled herself away and crawled up the steps, afraid to stop looking at Mathew. The taste of his mouth lingered on her lips. She turned and spat, trying to get the sample, if not the feel, of his body off her. Then she realized she was crying.

  Brina looked up at Russ, who was staring in shock. Mathew lay at his feet with blood dripping from his ear and trickling into the rug.

  He sank to his knees, clutching his side with one hand and the bookend in the other. That’s when Brina saw the blood running red over his fingers. She stumbled over Mathew and grabbed at Russ.

  “He shot you?” It was half question, half statement.

  He pulled his hand away. “It grazed my ribs. I won’t die, but it’ll hurt like hell when I’m done being pissed off.” He tried to give her a smile but finished the sentence with a grimace. He sank to the step, looking glazed from the pain and the rush of adrenaline.

  She fumbled for something to stanch the blood but came up empty handed. “Wait here.” She ran into the kitchen and came back with a handful of dishtowels.

  Russ pulled up his shirt. The bullet had ripped a trail along his left side that opened up the flesh in a ragged, pulpy streak.

  “That’s not good.” she shoved a towel at it, watching blood seep through the thin blue fabric.

  “It’s also not bad,” added Russ. “If he’d been a better shot, he would’ve punctured my stomach.”

  “What happened?” She inched away from Mathew, watching for any signs of movement.

  “He came at me in the garage. I had just closed the door when he jumped me. I didn’t even realize he had my gun until I was shot.”

  “Why didn’t he just shoot you to start with?” She replaced the first towel with a clean one and pressed in on the wound.

  “He’s insane. Whatever they did to him, he’s bent on revenge. Ouch.”

  “Hold on, sorry. Let’s get this cleaned up before it gets infected.” She helped him to his feet, both of them swaying as they supported each other to the lab. Brina’s body shook as the rush of the attack set her nerve endings on alert.

  “You’re shaking,” he said.

  “So are you.”

  “I was shot, I have an excuse.” Russ tightened his grip around her shoulder. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get a chance to warn you.”

  “Why didn’t he finish you off?” she asked, inching down the steps and all too aware of the heightened rhythm of his heartbeat.

  “I played dead, just like in a bear attack.”

  She led Russ to the back of the lab, where she settled him on the exam table. Roman had been the last patient there not that long ago. She wondered if the others had been strapped to that table as well, but then she forced the thought away.

  “You’re lucky he didn’t give you a final revenge shot to your head. What happened next?”

  “Then I came here.” He was silent and they locked eyes, knowing full well what might have happened if he had not shown up.

  “Thank you.” Brina wiped her eyes and pulled out more gauze. “I . . . I need to wrap your side.”

  Russ stopped her hand, “We’re both okay. All the Mathews are gone—the worst is over.”

  “What else is going to happen, though? We still have Roman upstairs.” Tears began to run in lines down her face. “What if he turns out like him?”

  Russ closed his lips over hers, caressing the back of her neck and holding her until the shaking calmed.

  Brina pulled away. “This is too much, I can handle only one thing at a time, and Roman is that thing. I can’t do this with you.”

  “Brina, why do you feel guilty?” He held her hands tight in his own. “You are alive, despite the odds when your car went off the road and despite an insane maniac who just tried to kill you.”

  She brushed her eyes and looked up at him. “I know, but knowing doesn’t make it so.”

  She finished wrapping his wound, tucked the loose gauze strip under the bandage, and gathered up extra rolls into a bag. “We should take these with us. I trust your tetanus is up to date?”

  “That’s my top worry.” He added antibiotic tablets to the bag, and handed it to her to carry. “I’ll go up first just to be sure it’s okay.”

  Brina saw the medicine bottles, and something flashed in her memory. “Russ, what is Tegretol?”

  He stopped and thought a moment. “It’s an anti-seizure drug. Why?”

  “Edward said that Roman tried to poison him with it.”

  “I don’t see how; I don’t think we have any here. Edward may have used it in previous setups, but I haven’t seen any.”

  “Maybe Edward is getting paranoid. I know I am.”

  “Well,” said Russ, “we all have good reason.”

  She followed him up the stairs, counting them off to keep from tripping in the dark. Mathew lay across the hallway. In a surreal burst of their senses, they smelled the chicken casserole from the kitchen.

  “I need to turn the oven off,” she said.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  She added plates and forks to the bag and hoisted the casserole with hot mitts. “Let’s go.”

  Russ pulled a jug of milk from the refrigerator and opened the door.

  The noticeable difference in the hallway was that Mathew was gone; the second was the blood trail that led upstairs.

  Russ sprinted, milk, b
ag, and all locked into his fingers. He reached the upper hallway and looked at the row of closed doors. A light showed only from under one: Edward’s. Brina watched from the landing as he crept over and put his ear to cold wood. He looked back at her and shook his head. Slowly, he turned the knob and peered in. Brina saw his shoulders relax as he opened the door to its widest, making sure no one was hiding behind it.

  She picked up their dinner and followed him in.

  “Brina, I’m almost done,” said Roman, moving so she could see the puzzle filled in by two-thirds since she had left.

  “The kid’s been flying at the pieces like he’s possessed,” said Edward. He seemed proud and disturbed by it at the same time.

  Russ looked about the room. He strode to the window and pulled back the drapes. The sun had almost set, casting the landscape into hiding places. The garage was dark. He stepped back. “Have you seen or heard anything?”

  Edward answered. “Good lord, what happened to you?”

  “Mathew doesn’t like him,” said Roman. “If I were you, I’d stay out of his way.”

  “You heard him go after Russ?” Brina wasn’t at all surprised that Roman already knew about their skirmish.

  Roman rapidly inserted two more puzzle pieces and nodded. “He doesn’t listen to me anymore. And he’s mean, so I’m not talking to him.”

  Edward swung his legs out of bed and reached for the closet. “If you’ll excuse me, I want my pants on before we go any further.” He took his clothes into the bathroom and closed the door.

  “What do we do?” she asked. “One minute I think it’s over, and then it just gets more twisted.”

  Russ sent her to bring in the food and then sat down opposite Roman.

  “You and I are buddies, right?” asked Russ.

  Roman looked at him and twitched his lip. “I guess.” He looked down at his work, rotating two interlocking pieces between his fingers.

  “Do you know where Mathew is right now?”

  Roman shook his head. “Sometimes when I try real hard to hear him it hurts. In here.” He pointed to his head.

  Brina set the casserole on the dresser and shut the door. “It’s quiet out there.”