The Black Cell

by R. L. M. Sanchez

  He’d lost much more than just his arm. He didn’t smile anymore, he hardly ate, and he didn’t want to go outside. He only stared at Neil, barely interacting with him, though he still held his hand. He tried, I know he did. I gave him as much time as he needed, and with the littlest hope I still had left, one day he smiled at me.

  I started to see Matthew again inside of the man who came home. We were the ones he wanted to live for. Finally we made the decision together to have a baby girl. What mother doesn’t want a girl to raise?

  One day, I heard a faint chirp coming from our baby girl’s room. I walked briskly over and opened the door to see a small yellow-billed cuckoo perched on her crib. The bird must have come from one of the habitats in the atrium below us. I almost shooed the bird away until I saw my daughter with a smile on her face. She reached out her hand to the bird, and the bird hopped onto her hand without hesitation. I smiled in disbelief. Both seemed so comfortable with each other’s presence that I didn’t want to interfere. From that day on, I nicknamed her Birdie.

  Another week, I was at home taking care of Birdie. Matthew was getting better, and this time he wanted to take Neil out. I was happy. Matthew was coming back slowly but steadily, and our son hated every moment without his dad. I told Matthew to take him to Georgio’s, a restaurant we ate at when we were dating. We hadn’t eaten there since moving to Green Sector, given its location and distance away from us. I’m the one who insisted our son try it.

  Birdie liked to play hide and seek a lot. It was hard to do, given our small apartment, but she always found a spot to escape to. Birdie covered her eyes and started counting to twenty. I briskly walked down a few rooms to my closet to wedge myself inside. It wasn’t the best spot, but Birdie could always find me anywhere I hid, and she liked winning.

  As I opened the closet, I heard the message terminal ringing. I ignored it at first. As I hid there in my closet, excited, the terminal wasn’t letting up. I knew it had to be Matthew running late, but it wouldn’t be the first time. I snuck out of my closet, trying not to make much noise.

  “Ready or not, here I come!” Birdie yelled out from across the apartment. I tapped the terminal, smiling, ready to see Matthew’s smile straight away. I quickly dropped it when I saw it was an Enforcer. From the background, it looked as if he was in the middle of a pedestrian walk. His helmet and visor covered most of his face.

  “Yes?” I said. The Enforcer asked me if I was married to Matthew. “Is there some sort of problem?” I asked.

  The Enforcer, in a very low and monotone voice, said for me to come to Green Sector Twelve, just above Yellow District. He gave me the address and said it was urgent. He then cut the transmission.

  Birdie poked inside my room. “Found you, Mommy!” I looked at her and forced a nervous smile.

  My neighbor would look after Birdie for a little while I was gone. The sun was setting and gave off a warm feeling. As I approached, a crowd had formed up ahead. I kept trying to call Matthew’s OPIaA but got no response. Suddenly, another cop grabbed my arm and called me my name. It was an old friend of Matthew’s from when he was a patrol enforcer. I didn’t know him well but we had met a few times.

  “Dillon, what’s going on?” I said frantically. “Where’s Matthew?”

  He looked at me with a heavy face until he couldn’t look anymore. His eyes found the ground as he spoke. “They needed…” he said. Dillon tried to speak but he found it hard to find the words. He tried to keep it professional.

  “Dillon, what’s happened?” I said loudly.

  “They needed next of kin to…” Dillon looked at me and let my arm go. He couldn’t even bear to tell me.

  You don’t get used to that feeling. Your soul leaving your body. They said that the medic on site tried to talk to me after I saw their bodies, but I can’t tell you what he said. I couldn’t hear him at all. I couldn’t hear anything because I was screaming. I screamed as I saw the bodies lying there. My husband and little boy covered in cheap forensic plastic. They were always inseparable. They never let go of each other’s hands.

  Undercity gangs are always a concern, no matter where you go. The upper levels are generally safe, but the lower you go, the more gangs you encounter. They’re all filth. They care about nothing other than money, status and killing. It’s always about which gang has more tribute, more respect, more dominance. Initiations, including random acts of murder, were often carried out to recruit the bloodthirsty. The higher the status of the victim, the more respect you earned, and mercy is not something the gangs are known to carry. A known Interpol officer was worth too much to pass up.

  I felt nothing that day. I don’t know why, but maybe there’s a point when you can’t be hurt anymore, when you can’t weep any longer. Sure, I thought to myself many times, why? Why did this happen? Was it some sort of test? But no, I don’t believe it is. Truth be told, it’s because no one is out there. No one watches out for any of us. Everyone on this planet is alone, including me. I stand alone.

  A few years later, Birdie was sitting on the couch watching cartoons as if nothing was wrong, part of her normal routine. I set the groceries down on the small table beside the door and moved quickly to embrace her. Ever since I lost Matthew, it’s almost as if I lost a part of her as well. Even at such a young age, Birdie knew exactly what had happened. The idea of death was very much a cultivated idea for her. She’d grown cold and distant in the following years, but at least she was still here.

  Matthew had kept medical debts from me. Cybernetic prostheses weren’t covered by the ENF bill, but he wanted things to be as normal as possible. Instead, the debt fell on me after I lost him, something he hadn’t intended. I’ve seen others sell their life insurance policy for worse reasons. But Matthew was keen on keeping his promise to never leave me again. Yellow Sector, and the lowest part of it, was the best I could muster on my own. I tried my best to raise my daughter, to give her as much of a normal life that I could. I had to make the best for her.

  “Birdie, are you all right?”

  She was silent, always a blank expression. Birdie remained staring at the large video terminal broadcasting the cartoons. “You walked in, Mommy, that’s all,” she said as she dangled her feet from the couch. “Mister Park’s cat was meowing outside in the hall. I wanted to go and see him.”

  “Baby, you know you can’t leave here when I’m not home with you.”

  “I know. I only wanted to, that’s all. I’m glad you’re back.” Birdie looked at me with her large, round, green eyes. She finally smiled and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

  “Did you do your studies today?” I asked.

  “I made it to chapter nineteen, just like you asked me to,” Birdie said as she turned back to the cartoons. “We can quiz whenever you’re ready.”

  “I’ll get it ready for you. How about you help yourself to some cereal? I just bought some. I need to check the video terminal for something.”

  Birdie hopped down from the sofa and made her way to the groceries, starting to unpack them in an orderly fashion. She was amazingly self-sufficient for her age. Being as worried as I normally was, I might be paranoid at times as I was sure she could figure new situations fast. I didn’t trust anyone to watch her, nor could I afford to hire anyone, so it helped that she was smart. Birdie grabbed the cereal box and made her way into the kitchen.

  I pressed a number on my OPIaA to get the video terminal to display a local Paragon News broadcast that was covering an event in the street. It was shocking to realize how close the incident was. The reporter appeared in front of a vast crowd, continuously grasping her earpiece to try and hear the constant updates for the live report. She gave a vague, summarized description of the incident.

  “…There appears to be only one confirmed victim so far. A male, late forties. The police are not yet releasing his identification. The victim appears to have been attacked by a wild animal of sorts. While not immediately killed by the threat, the victim seems to have died due to Black Cel
l exposure. Interpol is onsite creating a safe perimeter to locate the attacking animal. No further details at this time.”

  Wild animal? That part was hard for me to believe. Living in the mid-city, there tends to be chatter. Whether it was local news, politics, problems, crime, legends or folk stories, it always spread from mouth to ear. Lately, there were a few stories that started to emerge, stories of strange and bizarre murders by a deranged group of individuals.

  I leaned back into the sofa and took a long deep breath. Thinking of such chilling things wasn’t helping. Staying in the apartment until everything blew over seemed as good an idea as any, not that we had much choice. I then looked over to Birdie to see her standing still, staring off into the distance outside through the small window overlooking the alley behind us, cereal bowl in her hands. She looked almost frozen.

  “Birdie? Sweetie what’s wrong?” She didn’t respond, which was strange, although those damn cartoons with the cat and the insanely huge mouse tended to warp her mind, almost taking her to another place entirely.

  I sat up and walked over to her. I knelt next to her and touched her shoulder but she was too focused. I turned to see what had her attention, but all I saw was black, nothing visible. I moved closer to the window to figure out what it was. I came within a foot of the window, but immediately stopped when I heard a woman’s shriek from outside in the alley. I gasped as the scream startled me, then again as I saw the black from my window turn into a figure.

  The thing turned to look at me through the glass. Its face was gaunt and decayed. The figure resembled a man, or the shell of one. The most distinguishable feature was the missing flesh from his lips, revealing his gum line and rotten, pointed teeth. He was holding on to a rail from the fire escape outside, his tattered black coat hanging to partially cover our window. His height made him terrifying. His black eyes connected with mine. He let go and landed on the platform just outside the window, never taking his gaze off me.

  I took a step back, grabbing my daughter’s shoulders. “Stay back honey, don’t look at it.”

  I risked a quick glance at Birdie. Fear began to set into her eyes. The sight of the man was an abomination, something not of this world, but of a nightmare. I could hear Birdie cringing, maybe even crying, but she reacted better than I thought she would. She was a strong little girl.

  I continued to back up, very slowly, not wanting to agitate the thing outside. As I stared into the creature’s eyes, all suspicions of the killers’ existence became true. I raised my OPIaA slowly to contact the police, who seemed so far even just down the block.

  “FCPD, please state your emergency,” said the female dispatcher’s voice on my OPIaA.

  “Send Enforcers to Flash Avenue Apartments. There’s a deranged man outside my window,” I said to the dispatcher, quietly and bluntly.

  “A deranged man?” the dispatcher said, confused.

  “Yes! Some psychopath outside of my window—”

  Just then, several loud gunshots rang out from the alley below in quick succession. The creature outside snapped his head left to see where the shots had come from.

  “Ma’am, are you still there?”

  The man turned back towards me, then drove his shoulder into the window. The window made a soft thud but yielded no damage. It was heavy ballistic glass, but I don’t think the creature cared.

  “Yes! He’s trying to get in!”

  “Stay calm, ma’am, Enforcers are in route.”

  “Birdie, go wait by the door and keep your breather with you, okay?” She continued to hide behind me. “Birdie, please. Go wait by the door okay?” Birdie finally looked up at me and nodded her head, then ran over to the door and grabbed her breather from the table beside it.

  The creature pulled a large rusty blade from his coat. He then let out a terrifying shriek, clearly audible from the other side of the glass. Immediately he began striking the glass with the knife. The first strike did nothing, but after a few more strikes, the window began to crack.

  I quickly grabbed my pack and breather as I moved to the front door with Birdie. If there was a chance the man could break through – which there certainly was now – a vacuum would form at the window and soon the atmosphere would pour in. I told Birdie to attach her breather as I did the same. In the meantime I heard several more shrieks from the alley, followed by more gunfire. I knew they had to be coming from the Enforcers down below.

  As I tried to open my door, a small alarm rang out from the panel beside it, followed by a message I’d never heard before: Warning! Structural integrity compromised. Sealing area to prevent contamination. What that meant for us was trapped. There wasn’t much either of us could do at that point but wait for some sort of miracle. The window was heavily cracked now. With each blow, the cracks grew wider and the fear that the next one would be the one that shattered that window was all that was on my mind.

  “FCPD! Anyone in there?” said an Enforcer from the other side of the door.

  “What… Yes, yes we’re here!” I shouted. “The doors locked down, I can’t open it! Quick, one of them is trying to get in!”

  “Breathers?” the enforcer called.

  “Yes, they’re on!”

  “Get away from the door!”

  I moved Birdie aside. At that point, the window glass shattered, and the creature leaped through the window, snapping his head at various things around the kitchen, eager to find where we went until he tracked us in the other room. My ears popped due to the vacuum, and I started to panic heavily as the creatures gloss black eyes connected with my own again. Birdie tugged on my blouse as she saw it.

  “I don’t want to die, mom!” Birdie said.

  Just then, the panel beside the door exploded inwards as the Enforcer on the other side shot it through the wall, releasing the lock on the door. He slid the door across its track and stepped in. He first saw the man in my kitchen, then looked behind and saw us, cowering near the door. “Building’s evacuating, get out now!” he shouted.

  Without a second thought, I picked up Birdie and ran out the door. As I entered the hall, I heard a loud gunshot from my apartment, followed by screaming. I made it to the stairs as I saw six more Enforcers running past me. All the doors were open, the tenants running out of them in a hasty manner while Enforcers tried to guide them out. It was clear that we weren’t safe here any longer.

  As I ran out of the building, I saw dozens of Enforcers keeping people back in an orderly fashion. Several more news crews were present, along with medical VTOLs parked nearby. The attack must have been serious. Multiple people were attacked, judging from the shrieks from before. I saw an Enforcer across the street holding his head, with another holding his shoulder for comfort.

  “Make a hole!” an Enforcer shouted as he moved people aside in front of me. A few more Enforcers were pushing a stretcher with an injured man on it. He didn’t look quite like a civilian but not an Enforcer, either. He was unconscious with blood drenching his head. I assumed he was attacked by those things.

  The Enforcer who was pushing him spoke to the pilot of the medical VTOL. I could barely overhear what he was saying. His accent sounded very familiar, but with so much gear on it was hard to tell if I knew him or not. “He’s a Council Marshal, get him to ICU now!” the Enforcer said.

  Just when you’re picking up the pieces, a nightmare like this always rolls in. I didn’t know whether to treat this as a short-term occurrence or something threatening the long term, but in the meantime the area was declared unsafe until the police could guarantee citizen security.

  I’ve dealt with everyday situations in life as well as abstract ones such as this: Matthew’s death, my son’s, bottomless debt, struggling jobs, crime, corruption. And now these monsters, these ghouls. ‘The Taken’, they call them. Yes, some call every challenge in life a test of will. Except in this city, on this planet, your prize for passing is another day to live. What I will always be sure of, though, is that my daughter is all that matters. I won’t
let any harm come to her. I’ll find a way to keep us both safe.

  I’m a single mother of a beautiful girl in an ugly world, and this is my life. When no one else can protect us, it’s the strength of my own will that will endure. I stand alone.

  12

  PROFESSION AT HEART

  “How long?”

  Dill was still tense. He had to get his mind off it, and there was one thing that could make it stop. Fiddling with his pendant wasn’t working. He’d never seen one of the ghouls in the flesh before.

  It was a small observation room, the Marshal right in his sight on the slab. He looked dead. Dill looked at his hand again. Not only was it still shaking but there was an annoying numbness to it now. If the Marshal had bought it, then he certainly didn’t need to waste his time in here. The doctor finally decided to answer me.

  “We’ve been monitoring him for an hour already and still nothing.” He was calm, still skimming through files or reports or whatnot. He did this hundreds of times a day.

  “That’s not what I asked, doctor. He hasn’t moved for an hour. Is he brain dead? Comatose?”

  The doctor smiled slightly before putting his tool down. “Forgive my choice of words, Detective Roberts. The blow to his head was severe, but luckily he’ll scrape by with just a mild concussion. He’s merely resting at this point. Heartbeat is normal, BP slightly elevated but most likely due to his increase in his REM—”

  “His what, doctor?”

  “His rapid eye movement is far above normal. Typically associated with intense dreaming. Nothing related to his current condition, Detective.” What a weird one, Dill thought. Not dead but dreamin’ it. “Give it time. He’s very much still with us. It’s best we let him have his rest. I’m sure he’ll appreciate your concern.”

  A pat on the shoulder and off he went. Concern, funny. The small sweat and tremble in Dill’s words must have misled him. Once he heard the door catch, Dill went for the small matchbox in his pocket, but before he could do anything, the door clicked open. Shit. And the night is just too fuckin’ gorgeous.