by J. Kowallis
My eyes dart from building to building. Each time a sound reaches my ears, my blood freezes. I hear tapping along the rooftop of the shorter building above me. I look up at its edge, but there’s nothing there. Once or twice, I think I see a shadow move, but it might be my uneasiness affecting my sight.
What am I doing here? Why are we waiting? And why have I let my life become . . . this? My thoughts travel back to Estevan, and to what it was like before. Before Roy. Before The Public. Before Reggie.
I still feel a nagging guilt in my stomach for leaving Estevan the way I did. After all those years, and I left him. My father.
I kick at a tall steel waste bin in my frustration. The clang resonates down the streets and nearby ally. Soft crashes of sound carry down further and further. I throw myself on top of the bin to stop its echoing reverberation. My eyes clamp shut and I hold my breath, hoping no one heard. My jaw quivers the harder I clench it, and my wide eyes scan the surrounding area. A corrugated sliding sound comes from behind the alleyway and I move alongside the building to hide myself. My whole body jerks at the sound of a low thump at the end. Something’s hit the ground. My pulse races faster than the wings of a hummingbird.
The even beat of footsteps coming between the buildings makes my eyes widen. I purse my lips, listening to the steps. I look in both directions to see if I can tuck myself into any dark crevices. There’s nowhere to go. The area is wide and spacious. My only option is to hold still. I can’t move.
The footsteps reach the end of the building to my left and I shift my eyes over to see who it is. It’s his nose, but it’s not. The same chin, same hair, but it’s all different. It’s all wrong. It’s Roy. A false Roy. I feel a rush of fear and excitement. I want to run to him, but I know if I do, he could kill me.
It’s not Roy, it’s not Roy, I repeat in my head. It’s not him.
He turns his head in my direction. He already knows where I am. He fixates on me. Even in the dark, I can see him squinting.
“It’s just me,” he whispers.
Against everything I’m telling myself I respond, “Roy?”
“Yeah.” He walks forward, his arms raised defensively. “I won’t hurt you.”
My feet pull me deeper into the shadow and I take a few steps back. “I don’t understand. Last time I saw you, you tried to kill me.”
“It was The Public. They were watching. I’m fine now.”
I can tell by the inflections in his voice something’s wrong. His voice is more fluid. More serious. Precise. The lilt of humor is gone.
I take another step back when he comes closer. “How did you get out? How did you even find me?”
He jerks a thumb north, in the direction of the main building. “They still think I’m working for them. I’m supposed to be hunting you people down, and I got lucky. Where are the others?” he asks calmly.
“Safe.”
He smiles. It’s the same smile I remember. My heart hyper-pounds my ribs.
“I assumed they would be. We should go back to them.” He walks closer to me, and I reach out for the doorframe next to me to steady myself. The closer he gets, the harder it is to move, even though everything inside me is screaming with alarm.
It’s not Roy, it’s not Roy.
But what if it is? What if he’s telling the truth?
He stands directly in front of me. For the first time, I get a good look at what’s happened to him on the outside. I can’t believe the changes. His broken nose is perfectly straight. I can’t see a single scar or cut. Between his lips I see perfect teeth shining in the darkened moonlight.
“What’s the matter?”
I look back up into his eyes. “Roy, what happened to you?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
I can hear the echo of him in my mind. I’ve asked him the same question before; when he projected to me in the forest.
I’m fine.
Now, he’s said it twice. It never feels true. The first time, I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but this lie . . . it feels worse.
I reach out and touch his face. It’s like porcelain, despite the faint feel of his close shave. Warm, and perfect.
I shouldn’t be letting him pull me in like this. I can’t help it. I’ve missed him so much. I’ve worried for days, weeks, and now I’m finally talking to him. All the late nights, and half-sleeps I’ve gone through, panicking, and he’s right here.
Roy’s hand raises and brushes alongside my jaw, leaving a pathway of heat. Fire burns beneath my skin and I try to will it away. My breath shakes, and a flood of emotion rises in my chest. I want this to be him so badly. It has to be him, because if it’s not, it will kill me.
Before I can pull away, Roy’s mouth gently touches mine and I’m frozen—the feel of his tongue along my bottom lip and his hand on my face. My breath rattles in my throat. Our mouths move together. His hand moves around my neck and into my hair. My own hands trace up the curve of his spine and grip at his back. Roy’s mouth moves along my jaw and I hold him tighter.
“I want you to come back. Please come back to me, Roy.”
“I will,” he says gruffly into my ear. “You should take me to the others.”
My eyes flitter open and my throat constricts. Take me to the others. Why would he care?
“Let’s leave. We’ll leave them all. Public Four, the others, these people—just you and I. We’ll go back to the community. This can all be over.”
“Of course.” He kisses me again. “But we need to tell the others, right?”
I don’t want to ask him, but my mind screams at me like a warning. Not once has he said my name. He didn’t remember me in the building when we first broke in—or at least he claims to have pretended. I was just an intruder.
I have to test him.
“You mean you want me to take you to Ransley and Nate?” I say, replacing my name for Reggie’s.
Roy pauses for a few seconds and kisses my neck. “Yes.”
My eyes clamp shut and my heart plummets into my chest. I knew it. I lace my fingers over his wrist and concentrate. I can feel his skin begin to burn beneath my grip.
Roy jerks back and I wrap my other hand around his neck, feeling the heat begin to scorch his insides. His hand flies and smacks me across the face, snapping my head to the side. He hits me again. The second time I lose my grip and I’m tossed like a rag doll. My head smacks into the side of a building and a warm trickle runs down my neck.
“It was the kiss, wasn’t it? Too much?” Roy questions, landing the full force of his foot into my stomach.
All the air in my chest bursts out, and I struggle to breathe. I heave, trying to expand my lungs. Another kick to my stomach. My knees collapse and I fall facedown on the ground.
“Well, true,” I wheeze. A curse flies from my mouth. “You may use your tongue like a dead worm, but my name’s Ransley, you pendejo.”
Roy’s foot comes at me again and I roll over, grip his ankle and twist it to the side. I hear it pop. He growls, stumbling backwards on his sprained ankle. All of a sudden, I notice a second form of Roy jogging down the street toward us. I can’t run. I can’t go to Reggie and Nate, I’ll put them in danger. My only option is to fight them. I don’t even know if either of them are the real Roy.
I don’t have time to think about it. I jump to my feet and lunge forward, driving a fist to his jaw. My knuckles snap against his hard jaw. With my other hand open, my thumb splayed out, forming a V, I thrust it into his windpipe. A kick to his knee. I lift my knee to kick again and his fist flies at my face. My whole body spins and the hit dislocates my jaw.
Pain. So much pain.
The second Roy grabs me from behind and all I can do is hang. Each hit from the first Roy could be the last. His hands are so hard, so powerful, I feel like I’m being hit by a steel beam over and over again. Blood runs from my nose into my mouth, and from my mouth down my throat. I’m choking on it. My hands hang limply at the side, but I feel the cool touch of steel breat
he on my fingertips, and I recognize what it is. The second Roy has a knife at his waist.
Down the street another set of feet run toward us. To the north, another set. They’re all Roy. Coming towards us. I can’t let them reach me.
If they do, they’ll kill me. Or worse.
The Roy that has me in his grasp, balls his fist again. He hits me again, I use the momentum to remove the knife and tuck it against my wrist.
I manage to gurgle out, “Roy.”
His wrist chops down on my neck once more and I fall to the ground. I hear their footsteps stand over me. I don’t have much left inside me. They won’t kill me. They still need to find Nate and Reggie. Roy will take me to the Chrysalis building. I used my powers on him, and whether he remembered my abilities or not, he’s sure of it now. I’ll be the next to end up like him.
When I hear one of them bend over, I allow him to grasp my head.
He’s going to break my neck.
My hand reaches up, holding the bare handle, and I slash across his face. He releases me, growling in torture. The second Roy comes at me and I drive it into his stomach. His face twists and he snarls at me, grabbing my wrist. I drive the knife in deeper and he groans. I pull it out and stab him once more. The knife digs in to the hilt.
Then, it ends. Both forms of Roy disappear. So do the other three headed for us. A fourth figure drops to the ground in the distance, followed by a painful gurgle.
The real Roy.
I roll over in pain to see him stumble to his feet and trip over himself, grabbing his stomach, running away.
The silence of the streets accompanies me once more, yet I know I can’t stay here. I drag myself into the shadows, knowing it’s only temporary. If I don’t move, they’ll find me. Roy will come back. He knows where I am.
My body refuses to cooperate. Every move feels like rusted nails shoving into my muscle tissue. My head pounds loudly against my skull and sticky blood runs down my face, my neck, mixing with the dirt and filth from the street. Tears flow fast and free down my face while I pull my knees toward me.
He’s gone. He’s really gone.
Inside, I feel cold. It’s all disappeared, and I can’t feel anymore.
Deep in the shadows of the night, I hear a movement. My breathing skyrockets, but I can’t move. It hurts too much. My body shakes. The movement gets closer and I clench my teeth, preparing to look into Roy’s face once more.
“Shit, Ransley,” a voice whispers. It’s so distant. I can barely hear anything.
The movement gets closer and from the corner of my eye, a figure appears from the shadows. It’s tall. It’s so dark. Roy knows I was here. He knows what I can do. They’re coming for me.
―NATE―
Burning spread through his lungs in the cold night air. He sprinted for the body lying in the street, careful to watch down each alley, keeping an eye on every window.
The body moaned when he approached. He couldn’t see her well in the dark, but even so, the damage was distinguishable. When he bent down to put his arms around her and lifted, Ransley’s eyes closed and her head lolled lifelessly back over his arm.
A sudden flash of Olivia ripped through his mind and his arms shook. The memory of her hands. The gun shot. Scattered with violent memories of war.
Not now. Not now.
He tried to control the shaking in his arms. She wasn’t heavy, but he hefted her up more to get a good hold on her. He’d have to run, and he didn’t want to drop her.
“Dumbass woman. Come on, stay with me, Ransley.” A blend of panic, anger, fear, and worry swirled in his body. How could she have taken off like she did? How much time would he have before Roy or a number of guards returned to the streets? Would she even make it?
Ransley’s body jiggled in his grip as he jogged. A second set of beating footprints followed him and his heart stopped. He ducked into a recessed doorway and froze. There was nothing. Just the echo of his own running down the alley he’d passed. He took a deep breath and looked down at Ransley. Her lip split down the center, blood oozing down her chin. Red bruises that would soon be black and blue painted most of her face and neck. No doubt, the rest of her body was worse.
“Stay awake, Ransley.” He bounced her head, trying to get her to wake up. But no response. Blood could be flooding her brain, causing even more damage. Dammit, she was a fool. Why? Why did she leave? Why did Reggie let her?
Nate swore again and checked the streets once more before darting out. Trying to stay aware of which sounds were echo and which weren’t, he ran even faster. She wouldn’t make it if he had to stop anymore. Aside from her external bleeding, he thought of the possible internal hemorrhaging. Worse, he knew of the potential damage being done to her neck and spine by moving her.
Reggie already waited behind the apartment building main door. Her mouth dropped and her hand slammed against the pad to open the door. It slid open and he burst inside.
“Ransley,” Reggie’s voice quivered. “Where did you find her?”
“Right where you said I would,” he grunted, hefting her body in his arms again to get a better hold. “I’m losing her, Reg. She won’t wake up.”
“Just get her upstairs!” she hissed.
He bolted up the stairs, his lungs burning, his legs screaming in exhaustion, all while trying to stay silent in the apartment building. His arms shook at Ransley’s weight, even though she only weighed around one twenty, and he struggled to keep her tight against him. If anyone of the other residents woke up, they were screwed.
Underneath his fingertips, Ransley’s body temperature started to rise.
―
Nate scribbled a few more thoughts down on the scrap of paper he’d pulled from his bag. He’d been rotating thoughts and ideas inside his mind on how they would strategically manage to get Roy cornered. No matter what idea came to his mind, he got distracted by the memory of Ransley’s body. Battered. Bloody. It reminded him of what they were up against. Because no matter what direction they took, it would probably get one more of them killed. And the next could be Reggie.
The door to the bedroom opened silently and Reggie stepped quietly out, carrying an armful of bloodied towels and bandages.
“How is she?” he whispered.
Reggie’s face was drained of color; her fingers shaking; out of exhaustion or fear, he wasn’t sure. “I’m glad I had that vision when I did. If you hadn’t brought her back, she wouldn’t have made it. She’d still be lying in the street.”
Nate looked at the paper in front of him and then cleared his throat. “Reggie, is that the vision you had before?”
“What do you mean?”
“A few nights ago on the balcony, I know you saw a vision. You lied to me about it. Was this the one you saw?”
Reggie dropped the cloths on the countertop slowly. “Oh, yeah,” she sighed. “It was.”
She said it so direct, it might have been a lie. It didn’t matter, though. He wanted to believe her, so he did.
“Why did you lie to me, then?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want you to distrust Ransley any more than you already did. Not until I had more information. She’ll be all right, though,” Reggie continued. “She came to for a while, and it doesn’t look like there’s any major head trauma. Her face is swollen, bruised, and bleeding. Her nose and a couple ribs and fingers are broken. She’s sleeping now, but we’ll have to keep an eye on her. To heal properly, without the right injections, she needs a couple weeks. But, Roy nearly killed her, so—” She tossed a few strands of hair from her face and leaned forward.
Nate felt a knot form in his chest. “We don’t have a couple weeks. We don’t know how long it will take Public Four to realize where we are.”
“I know. One of us should have gone with her,” she finished in a whisper, looking at the closed bedroom door.
Nate dropped the graphite pencil in his hand and it rolled on the countertop. “And what would we have done? Huh? Instead of one of us being almo
st dead, maybe you or I would have come back completely dead. The way I see it, she shouldn’t have gone out in the first damn place.”
“Nate . . .”
“No. Reggie, she’s impulsive, rash, and she’s going to get either herself or someone else killed. It’s time you realize that. I know you want to help her, but,” he sighed and cursed beneath his breath, “Reg, we may need to make a plan without her.”
“I can’t do that.” She pulled her eyes down, fiddling with the frayed edge of a gauze strip. “I already saw her in the future. She’s a part of this. I promised her.”
“What? You promised we’d save Roy? Reggie, I’m not even sure that’s a possibility anymore. He doesn’t want to go back to how he was. He doesn’t even know what he was like before, to even know if he wants to. I mean, The Public has his brain so scrambled, he’s a program. Not a human being.”
“Don’t . . . say that,” she gritted her teeth.
“What? It’s true! Public Four took him, shoved him full of technology and twisted him into something else!”
“Nate! Don’t you dare say that again!”
“Dammit, Reggie! He’s not . . .”
“Normal? Is that what you were going to say? You’re right, Nate! He’s not normal. I’m not normal! We’re not normal!”
The fury in his heart pounded against his ribcage. “That’s not what I meant!” Nate hissed. “I was going to say he’s not the same. Dammit, Reg. Haven’t I apologized enough? Haven’t you had enough of all this shit with you and me?”
Reggie froze. “I thought you said you wouldn’t press the issue anymore.”
Seeing a way to grind in his anger like salt in Reggie’s veins, Nate stepped forward, looking down at her. “I was talking about your powers. What makes you think I’m pressing the issue?” He turned back toward his paper with scribbled out ideas.
Yes, he’d noticed the double meaning. In fact, he’d intended it. Was it juvenile? Yes. Did she deserve it? He wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” her voice was small. Good, he thought. He’d thought it, he’d felt it, but he wanted to take it back. They were both going through enough stress from the outside. There was no need to pile it on themselves.
