Skin Trials

by S Y Humphrey

  They walked down a crumbling asphalt street, that looked like an old-fashioned town last updated in the 1930s and 1940s. Actual blocks forming platforms that appear to be a town square still stood in prevalent areas of the town square. As they stepped onto the patio, Seren brushed aside the trash, women’s underwear, bits of what looked like herbs, and condoms. They stepped inside, and into a dark barely lit brothel.

  What looked like prison cells made of metal bars that slid back, as people came in and out of what appeared to be caged spaces. Only these bars looked heavy, jagged and uneven, as if they had been forged in somebody’s workshop, rather than manufactured by a company. Seren reached out and touched them. Indeed, old, ridged, rusted metal met her fingertips.

  “What are those…?”

  “Don’t ask!” Pike snapped. “If you can’t really handle it, just don’t ask.”

  But before he finished his admonishment, Seren’s eyes fell to the chains attached to the walls inside the cages, and at the end of them appeared to be shackles. Underneath the soft purple light, Seren saw heavy, chinks of cast iron metal that looked more appropriate for chaining ships, not bodies. At their edge were the moon-shaped manacles for placement around ankles, which even in the scant light, looked heavy and ancient— the kind she had only seen in history lessons. As she began to question what this place truly had been, Seren thought she would be sick to her stomach.

  A woman came down the stairs to greet them. “Hey, good folks. Jonah and company, good to see ya’ll. Get on up here,” she said in a folksy voice, waving them up the stairs, as if the illegal activities swirling around them were nothing more than a family picnic. They followed her up the dark hallway of drugged out bodies, and placed them in a room with two beds. She and NG exchanged hushed small talk, the way they all did now when they met him. Seren took one of the lumpy beds, while NG and Pike took the other.

  The small woman came over to each of them, and finally stopped at Seren. She asked Seren a question. But Seren didn’t hear her.

  “Those cages down there, the shackles, please tell me they aren’t… what I think.”

  The woman looked over at NG in a panic. “I’ll just surprise you with the food and drink. Be right back!” With that, she scampered off.

  Seren looked to NG.

  “He tried to tell you about this place five minutes ago, and you treated him like he was beneath you. Now you want to know about it? You’re one crazy broad. Grgh,” Pike growled at her through his pain.

  “Sorry if I don’t ask the right questions on your timeline! What is this already?”

  “Yes! Okay? Yes! They’re barracoons! Prisons for slaves. Actual slaves! Those folks you’d much rather forget! I know they probably don’t teach this in the Rocky Mountains where everybody flies around on winged sandals, so let me say it one more time. Slaves!” Pike grimaced. “Now please make yourself useful. Either find a hospital, get us some medicine, or lay down and take a nap!”

  “I’m not your kid so stop talking to me like that. You’ve got fake medical VScan ID’s. Use them,” she snapped back, talking against the backdrop of blurred music from downstairs. “You’ve worked so hard to steal other people’s identities.”

  NG explained, “Fake ID’s are meant for people to receive necessary healthcare at second-rate clinics that don’t ask questions. Not at Tier One hospitals where things could get a little dicier if you’re found out.” He shifted, as if wondering whether to share information he withheld.

  “Spit it out,” she said.

  “We’ve been informed the police are in heavy rotation now,” NG said cutting in. “Even more checkpoints than what my friend showed me on the maps. They found the truck we used back in Virginia. Even though it was burned pretty bad, they were able to swab it some and now they’ve got Pike’s blood samples from when he was shot in the trailer. So even if he checks into a hospital using a fake ID…”

  “… When the nurses draw his blood and run his DNA through the CAG database, it’ll connect him to the truck and alert law enforcement of his whereabouts,” Seren finished, continuing to think. “Police will no doubt get him. Perhaps torture him for info on you. And when they’re done, they’ll turn him over to the Cavalry.”

  NG continued. “I can’t let that happen.”

  “I’ll never snitch. Never. They can kill me,” Pike said, wincing while lying on the bed.

  “Don’t say what you’ll never do. I never thought I’d be standing with two black men in a brothel that was used for holding slaves, helping rebel vigilantes carry out my kidnapping, but here I am,” Seren muttered.

  NG’s face spread into a tickled smile, while Pike winced attempting a chuckle.

  “You’re not so bad at the strategist stuff. Careful there. We’ve got positions available,” N.G. grinned.

  “Listen,” Seren’s voice toughened as she grew more focused. “I don’t think my father’s going to have your scientist in Atlanta. I’m sorry.” N.G. noticeably flinched, and all of the men looked at one another. Seren continued, “You said you wanted a strategy. A real one. Do you want it or not?

  “Go on.”

  “If this scientist is everything you say he is— and I’m guessing he is if my father hid him in a hole somewhere— Dad’s not handing him over that easily. In Atlanta, he’ll try a bait and switch on you. You’ll need to be prepared for that. At the beginning of this, I heard you tell the Tier Twos that you have a pretty good idea of where your scientist is. Was that true?”

  Staring at the floor, N.G. nodded his head.

  She continued, “You will have to go there and get him yourself. Because my dad’s not giving him to you. As for Pike we will have to split up, so a group can take him to a Tier One hospital, where he will scan in as me. Meanwhile, you will have me at the location of the scientist, so we can also leverage my presence to get him.”

  “How sweet, you would do that for me?” Pike said facetiously.

  “How do you know they will go for that? No disrespect to you as Jernigan’s daughter. But how do you know that he will bite?” N.G. asked.

  “I’m more than his daughter. I’m a weapon in his arsenal. He wants me back, if only to pump me for information on you. He’ll do it.”

  Deflated, NG slowly heaved himself up from a small chair.

  “I guess I shouldn’t ask why you didn’t tell me all that before, about your father likely not having the scientist.”

  “What reason did I have to care?”

  “People risked their lives.”

  “The same people who gambled with mine.”

  He started to leave the room and then paused. “What reason do you have to care now?”

  She stayed silent, unable to answer. He left the room, no doubt to go contact his fellow rebels about what Seren just disclosed. A few minutes later, he reentered the room and pulled up the little chair, directly across from where Seren sat, just as he did the first time they met.

  “Are you sure of what you just told me? How do I know I can trust you?” N.G. asked.

  “You don’t know. Just know my father will destroy you to take me back. And still keep your scientist. You asked me to trust you before. You’ll have to trust me now. Prepare to get him on your own.”

  “Whoa, is hell freezing over? Are you helping us win?” Pike quipped.

  Taking turns, they finally took showers, Seren’s first since she had been taken. The pure, sweet water of the South didn’t feel quite so hard as back in the mountains. She let it run cool over her body, as it gave her relief from the burning, heat. The two blemishes on her thigh, and one on her face, still jarred her. She had been so busy, there had been little time to agonize over them. Slight discoloration in her left eye stared back at her. The coils of her hair was slightly tighter, especially at her roots. What had her father done? She was so much like Stephen Jernigan that she couldn’t imagine not being his child. As she allowed herself to finally feel and process everything of the last few days, the questions tumbled into her mind
one after the other. The answers inside this hard and ugly new world still terrified her.

  They ate and convened inside a little kitchen in the back of the Old Slave Market. For the first time since she had been with them, Seren allowed herself to enjoy the meal. Looking over at N.G. now, she saw that he was visibly strained. Perhaps even afraid. Munching on cornbread muffins and buttered rolls, candied yams, turkey necks and macaroni and cheese, she thought of Mabel and her cooking. Suddenly, Seren’s heart fell. How much had that woman been forced to carry around inside her heart, just to live a decent life as a servant?

  With forks scraping plates, mouths munching, and throats and lips slurping, the quiet dinner of solemn faces seemed more like the Last Supper. For some of them, it just might be.

  “Okay, so we know that we will have to get lost again. I like Seren’s idea earlier of creating a distraction to get ourselves where we need to be. We’ll split up and take the coast by boat, through the tidal swamps, to avoid police checkpoints on the roads now. Once we get further ahead, Pike will be taken to a Tier One hospital in Georgia where he’ll use Seren’s identity. We’ll trick Jernigan into thinking she’s there. But she won’t be.”

  He turned to Seren right then. “I’m trusting you’re right.”

  She looked up at him. “So where are we going?”

  “Angola.”

  Low whistles rose around the room from the horde of oversized men.

  “What’s that?” She asked, her eyes darting around at all of them. “Why does everybody look like we’re already dead?”

  “Angola State Prison. A plantation prison surrounded by the Mississippi River in Louisiana, the deadliest prison in the United States.”

  “Let me get this straight. You think my father put a renowned scientist… inside a hole in a prison?”

  “Yes. It was either that or kill him. We believe Dr. Terry knew how to perfect permanent gene editing, but wouldn’t tell Jernigan. So they put him in a hole in the worst prison on earth until he does. No crime. No trial. No lawyer. Nothing. Just gone.”

  “But my father’s not a…” Her voice trailed off, because she was no longer sure what he was. “Being a scientist isn’t a crime my father would imprison someone for.”

  “It is if your father’s changing the American government. Creating a Perfect Society, where people are classified by their genes. As long as Lyle Terry could correct people and make them healthy, he was a threat to Jernigan’s game— high-tech apartheid.”

  13

  The Truth

  Seren and N.G. hurriedly placed Aurora’s body among a cluster of tall weeds and leaves in the forest, while the children washed off in a nearby stream, and Pike sat in the car to be the lookout. Even as he was barely conscious.

  Throwing the last of the dead leaves on Aurora, N.G. said, “She is with her tribe now. Let’s go. By now, the cops already have wind of the blowup back there, and they will set up roadblocks and try to cut us off.”

  To fill the silence, Pike turned a knob on the dashboard, and a man started to talk into the car. Now that they rode in the car and not the back of the dark long truck, Seren was able to gaze out of the window at least. She stared at the large yards to see the storied South she had heard so much about. Lots of green grass and bushes spread into tranquil fields of bliss that stretched endlessly as far as the eye could see. Massive, tall oak and maple trees towered toward the sky, often covering the magnificent two and three-story plantation houses next to them. The sun set behind it all, its dying light escaping through the dark trees to cast subtle spotlights on long balconies and front porches. It’s dated architecture was both romantic and sad at the same time. Colors of Primrose, Violet and nectarine stretched overhead. This air was sweet and clean, yet still heavy and hot. Barbecue grill, happy children play with their dogs and homeowners wash their cars were congregated under the trees that form shade. Seren could see why many Southern whites clung to it so desperately. Peaceful and undisturbed, it looked as if a painter had created it two hundred years ago and left it, for the most part, untouched.

  They did not suffer from a shortage of churches. Or liquor stores. For there was at least one tall building wielding a forebodingly high cross every mile, sometimes two or three a mile, and right across the street from each other.

  Blue and red lights flashed behind their heads, in the rearview mirror. Making Seren’s heart pound. Down here in these deep parts, she didn’t know what that meant. It could have finally meant freedom, or some other demented outcome.

  NG’s eyes cut her in the rearview mirror. “Get on the floor. Lark and Rage, throw that blanket over her and those empty hamburger wrappers and bags. Scatter them everywhere and do it well. Then lay down, cover everything but the top parts of your heads. While I figure out a good lie for why I’m riding around with two white kids in my backseat.”

  He pulled over slowly, and Seren felt the car stop.

  “Place your hands on the vehicle. In plain view where I can see them,” came the voice from the loudspeaker behind them.

  She heard shifting as NG followed the directions, and tried to drown out the pounding of her heart as the boots stepped closer alongside the car.

  “You know you’ve got a broken taillight, right?” The officer’s voice suddenly turned jovial, followed by hearty laughter. NG’s own laughter followed. Soon, Seren heard loud, backslapping and greetings exchanged that sounded more like old friends reuniting, instead of authority figure and oppressed vigilante. Seren lifted her head to see that NG did in fact know the black police officer with whom he laughed right then.

  “Man, thank you so much for being out here. We really appreciate you doing this,” NG said with emotion in his voice.

  “When I heard you were coming through and what it was about, you know I had to be here. Anything for you, Jonah man.”

  Right then, the two of them grasped each other tightly, emotionally. Seren had never seen anyone she knew grasp each other that way. Exchanges in her circle had been more dainty, formal, obligated gestures of civility.

  “So, here’s where they’re looking for you. They’re expecting you to be on small roads, so you’ll need to hit the freeway for a while. Here are some VScan ID’s,” the black police officer said. After unfolding a small map and pointing to it in the twilight, he handed NG a set of contact lenses to put on, containing someone’s fake identification so they could scan onto the freeway.

  Now Seren understood fully in hindsight why they had taken the Dregs into Atlanta. A long and very dangerous way around, but no doubt filled with rebels and citizens at every level of government who hated Perfect Society. They would never have found these extensive allies and resources moving through Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana or Alabama. To the extent that they would have, the support would also have been more readily crushed by the powerful and omnipotent Cavalry. They could only get away with this in the Dregs— mostly black, sick and dirt poor— due to the government not caring as much about it. Except for a foreign attack — the only reason military outposts were still stationed there, and as a counter threat against the ever-looming threat of civil war.

  “I hope you finally get your name cleared, man. So you can move on and live your life,” the officer said, gripping NG’s hand a final time, clinching it a couple of more times before letting go. “I’ll follow you into Eastover.”

  “So, your real name is Jonah,” Seren said, as the police car rode behind them.

  “Yes,” he said, continuing to drive as night fell. Pike studied the map, calling out directions for roads to take so as to avoid the blocks where police were likely now looking for her.

  “So why do people call you NG?”

  He didn’t answer. They rode in silence another couple of hours with the officer tailing them, escorting them past other police cars sitting by the side of the road along the way, which did not move.

  They pulled onto a gravelly, rocking drive way around midnight. They stopped at a small, humble little white h
ouse, paint chipping, the front porch constructed of large cinderblocks powder on top of one another. A little yellow porchlight flicked on.

  “Where are we?” Seren asked.

  “Stay here,” NG said, getting out of the car and going inside. A chunky brown arm shot out from inside the door, and threw the falling screen door open.

  A few minutes later NG came back out and opened her car door. Seren didn’t budge.

  “Where are we?” She asked again. She refused to be left anywhere else by herself. They would simply have to take her by force this time.

  “It’s safe. Don’t worry. Haven’t I brought you this far? Suit yourself,” NG said. He moved to the other side, to help Pike get out.

  Stepping out, she finally followed him over the uneven dirt ground with patches of grass here and there. Two dogs were tied to a single tree, and though the property was rather large, it didn’t resemble anything near the sprawling, illustrious properties they had passed earlier. Balancing herself on the wobbly cinderblocks, she eased her way inside, pausing at the door.

  Inside, a crowd looked back at her. A sea of black faces. Several of the older women clutched their mouths, and broke into loud cries.

  One of the younger women stepped forward and stuck out her hand.

  “Hello… Seren. My name is Mariam. I’m your cousin.”

  Another young man stepped forward, and held out his hand. “And I’m Jason. I’m another one of your cousins.”

  Seren stared at the strange faces and froze. Unable to move and suddenly feeling more imprisoned than she had back at the veterans camp. Inside this tiny room where she had never been around so many black people in her life. New

  “It’s all right. Nobody’s is going to hurt you. Okay?” The girl Mariam said, withdrawing her hand and stepping away. She pulled Jason back with her.

  Oh, praise the Lord. I knew it. I knew it all along. She looks just like him. I knew she wasn’t dead. I knew my grandchild was not dead. I know my own blood when I see it.” One of the older women began walking around in a circle, her arms lifted to the sky, her eyes raised to the ceiling. “Praise the Lord!”