Heartless

by Leah Rhyne

  I climbed to the top of a hill a mile away from campus. Though I was surrounded on all sides by mountains, I had an unparalleled view of the sunrise. I froze, gazing out over the mountain ranges. The sun’s fingers were a thousand shades of yellow and pink and gold as they reached through the deep blue sky between snowy mountain caps. I could see for miles, and the vastness of the world reminded me how far I’d run on that first night in the mountains. The memory of that night suddenly felt freeing; I could have gone anywhere, done anything. It seemed, in retrospect, that I wasted the night that never ended. I huddled in a cave instead of drinking in nature. I could have been drunk with beauty, but instead I cowered. As I looked around, I realized I never needed to be afraid again. Not when the world was so beautiful and fresh and welcoming.

  I was exhilarated. I raised my arms to welcome the coming dawn, and drew back my lips in a cry of joy.

  But then my thoughts went dim. My body grew heavy. In an instant, I felt it: I was running out of power.

  I didn’t have a lot of time. This shutdown was coming on faster, fiercer, as though it wanted nothing more than to rob me of the fleeting joy I’d felt. I fell to my knees.

  I need help. I pulled my dead cell phone from the pocket of my hoodie and held down the power button. Nothing happened. Though I’d charged it for hours after we returned home from Eli’s, it stayed dead. Cold. Destroyed by the winter weather. Come on, come on…START.

  Nothing.

  As fog clouded my dying brain and fear set into my absent heart, I had an idea. I unzipped my hoodie with fingers grown thicker and clumsier as my body shut down. I lifted my shirt. Please work.

  I held the phone tight, and I touched it to one of my metal nipples.

  Sparks lit the air and sizzled when they touched down amid the snow. In my hand the phone clicked, and vibrated, and then, miraculously, it booted. But it was slow, so slow. Just like me.

  “Call Lucy,” I croaked, as soon as my phone would accept a voice command. My cold fingers were ineffectual on the smooth touch screen. The ringing was music in my ears.

  She picked up immediately and her voice sounded, muffled and sleepy. “Hello? Hello?”

  I tried to talk, but nothing came out. “Call Lucy” might be my last words.

  “Hello? Jo? Is that you? Jo?” I heard a door slam. “Jo, why aren’t you in your room? Where are you?”

  Save me, Lucy. I don’t want to die.

  I moaned. My brain shouted words in my head, but my vocal cords couldn’t form them.

  The last thing I heard before my power went off was Lucy. “Jo, where are you? Never mind. I’m coming. I’m coming!”

  Above me, the sky burned with the colors of a wildfire as I closed my eyes.

  The next thing I knew was warmth flowing into my body. My eyes fluttered open, and the faces of Lucy and Eli slowly came into focus. We were in my room again. I was in my bed. I saw my remaining curtain billowing in the breeze from the open window.

  “Look, look, she’s waking up!” Lucy’s eyes were red and tearstains striped her cheeks, cutting white, freckled paths through a thick layer of grime. “Oh, thank God, she’s waking up. Jo? Jo? Can you hear me?”

  I tried to respond but couldn’t quite move my mouth. I blinked.

  Lucy sighed as if she’d held her breath for hours. “She blinked. Jo, if you can hear me, blink twice.”

  I blinked twice.

  “Hooray!” Lucy said, then leaned over and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I think you’ll make it. You just lay still and keep charging.”

  As if I had any choice.

  They moved out of my line of sight, but they spoke about me as if they thought I couldn’t hear them. I heard every word.

  Eli’s voice had a knife-sharp edge to it. “Okay, so she’s awake. I’m out of here. You two are on your own for the rest of the day. Think you can stay out of trouble?”

  “Come on,” said Lucy. I couldn’t see her, but I knew the look on her face. Her eyes would be big, her cheeks flushed pink. She always looked like that when she was begging. “Don’t be like that. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “She left her room in the middle of the night, by herself. I don’t care what she meant by it. She was stupid. She could have died. I mean, that’s what got her into this situation in the first place, right? And now, well, I’m done wasting my time on someone who keeps trying to get herself killed.”

  “Eli!”

  “Besides, it’s not that she could have died. It’s that she is dead. We know this. Nothing we do now is going to change that.”

  “Eli! She can hear you!” Lucy’s voice was thick with tears again.

  “So what if she can? It’s time she knows the truth.” The door opened. “And anyway, we broke up the night she disappeared. She only came back to me because she needed something. I can’t keep wasting my time on a girl who walked out on me.”

  “Come on, stop it,” Lucy said. “You know Jo loved you, and you know this isn’t ending here. Maybe someone can help her, fix her. Change her back, even. But that won’t happen if we don’t help her. Come on, Eli. Please don’t go. Not like this.”

  “No one can fix her.” He was quiet for a moment, but then he spoke in a louder voice that reminded me of the fight that had started my journey. “Listen, don’t call me later, okay? I have exams, work, and now I have to do it all on two hours of sleep. Thanks a ton, Jo. For nothing.” He slammed the door.

  Lucy appeared back in front of my face, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Don’t listen to him, Jo, okay? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And maybe he’s wrong. Maybe if we find who did this, they can fix you.” She laid her head down on my shoulder, but sat up quickly again. “God, you stink. It’s not like anything I’ve ever smelled before.”

  Lucy sat on the edge of my bed, wiggling until her back was to me, and all I could see was her wild, tangled ponytail, bobbing as she spoke. “He’s just mad, Jo. He didn’t really mean those things. You scared him, that’s all, so that made him get mean. I wish you’d seen him when we were looking for you. He was like a machine—so intense, so determined. He loves you, Jo. If you had seen him, you’d know exactly how much. And so don’t listen to those mean things he said. They’re not true.” She sighed a deep, shuddering sigh. The bed shook as she reached up to stifle a sob and also to wipe her own tears away.

  “God, Jo, I don’t know the last time I’ve cried this much in the same twenty-four-hour span. I hate it.” She sniffled, and it was wet and thick. Snotty. “I’m done crying now, Jo. You hear me? I’m done. Because I don’t accept that we won’t figure this out. Together. Only us if it has to be that way, but I know Eli will be back too. He loves you. And this story will have a happy ending. Do you hear me, Jo? Happy. So remember that.”

  Lucy stood, her tall, slender frame filling my line of sight. She turned and leaned over me again, and let her hand linger over my forehead, stroking my hair and tucking a lock behind my ear. She smiled, very faintly, though her eyes remained wet. “When you get back up, we’re going to have to do something about your nose. But don’t get up now, okay? For now you need to rest. Recharge. I’ll be back, okay?”

  She walked through the bathroom to her room, leaving the doors open between us. She rustled around over there, opening and closing doors and closets. When the rooms grew silent, I assumed she went to sleep.

  I wanted to get up, wake Lucy back up, call Eli and beg him to come back. I wanted to tell them that I, too, knew it would all be okay. And that I was sorry I’d dragged them into this.

  But my body wasn’t charged. All I could do was lie there silently on my bed and wonder: What happened to my nose?

  I was incapacitated for most of the morning, able to move my arms and my head, but little else. Eli wouldn’t return my calls, and Lucy was like a mother hen, clucking around my room, afraid to let me out of her sight.

  “I thought you died,” she said, more than once. “When we found you, we thought you were dead for good
this time. We followed your tracks. You were lucky you didn’t go too far. Eli and I were able to carry you home.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. For everything. For dying,” I said, mumbling on purpose, hoping she wouldn’t understand me, but also hoping she would.

  “You should have seen Eli,” Lucy said, continuing as though she hadn’t heard me, even though the pained look on her face told me she had. “He was like Superman, carrying you over his shoulders. He was crying, too. I think this is breaking his heart, Jo. I think that’s why he said those things he did. He didn’t mean them.” She looked down at me, begging me to believe her, as though by repeating herself she could make the words more true. But I thought I knew better. Eli was right. We’d broken up, and then I went and dragged him and Lucy into danger. That had been my choice, my doing, and it was the worst thing I’d ever done.

  “Right,” I said. “He’s just sad. Not angry at me for being the stupidest person alive. Not mad at me for getting him into this.”

  Lucy ignored me. “And then when we plugged you in and you didn’t come back right away, then we really thought you were dead. But we just kept hoping. I think Eli even said a prayer, can you believe that, Jo? He said a prayer, and I swear, right after that was when you opened your eyes. It was almost enough to make both of us believe in…well, in something. And I swear, he wasn’t mad at you. He just didn’t know how to tell you how bad you scared him, and how relieved he was. You know?”

  A sigh was a useless gesture for me, but old habits die hard…just like people. “Whatever. He’s mad, and we both know why, but can we get back to the search?” I asked. “When I was staring at the mountains last night, I realized how far I ran when I first left the cabin. I think we need to expand our search criteria, go a few miles further out than we’ve been going.”

  “Jo. You were dead. Now that you’re back, you should rest a little more, okay? The search can wait. Another hour isn’t going to change anything for the better or worse. I promise.” She bounced out of the room, knowing full well my computer was out of reach and I wasn’t strong enough to get up on my own. I was a prisoner in my own defective body, and it was starting to make me angry.

  “Luce!” I called after her. “Luce! Come back.” But it was no use. She was protecting me, and not allowing me to protect her in the one way I thought I could.

  An hour later, I still lay, immobile, frustrated, and angry. Lucy came back into my room, holding her cell phone. Her eyes were big and surprised.

  “What?” I said, more than a little testy.

  “Can you get up yet?” she asked.

  “No. Thanks for asking. I still can’t move at all, in fact.”

  Lucy looked relieved. “Oh, good. I have to go out for a few. Now I don’t have to worry about you running away again. I’ll lock you in, though, so I know you’re safe and sound. I’m sorry to leave you, but I have to.”

  Without giving me a chance to protest, she flew out through our bathroom. Minutes later, I heard her door click shut. She’d gone out, and hadn’t told me where.

  Knowing she was gone made me even lonelier.

  I lay in silence on my bed and counted spots on the industrial ceiling. I tried to remember every detail about the morgue, and the path I took when running from it. I was sure somehow I could reconstruct that path, backwards, if only they would let me. And if only my body would let me.

  After a while, I began to feel my toes. I could wiggle them again. And then I could feel my feet, my legs, and even my hips. I still couldn’t move gracefully—but let’s face it, grace had never been my strong suit—but I could sit up. My computer sat atop a pile of blankets at the end of the bed. I hooked the cord around my foot and slid it up to my hand. Slowly, I used the cord to pull the computer to me, and I pulled it onto my lap and lifted the cover.

  Jo1995: Did something real dumb last night. Huge apology to @LucyGoosie and @EliPete21. You two are the best.

  LucyGoosie: @Jo1995 @EliPete21 Anything for our girl. You smell. Doesn’t she, E?

  Jo1995: @EliPete21 Please call me. Please?

  Jo1995: @EliPete21 Hello? Hello McFly? Bueller? Bueller?

  Jo1995: Shit.

  Hi Mommy,

  I miss you. I love you.

  Love, Jo

  Jo,

  What’s wrong? Do you need Daddy and me to come up?

  Love, your worried mother

  Hi Mom,

  Sorry, I guess I was just feeling a little homesick. Don’t come, not yet. Maybe soon?

  Love, Jo

  Dear Jo,

  Just checking up on you. Will we be seeing you in class this week? Did you ever go to the clinic? Are you having any new symptoms I should know about?

  Take care,

  Sondra Lewis

  English Dept.

  Dear Prof. Lewis,

  I’m doing ok, thanks. I don’t think you’ll see me in class this week, though. I didn’t go to the clinic. I’m on the mend, it’s just taking some time.

  Thanks again for your concern, and the soup. It was yummy.

  Jo Hall

  Dearest Jolene,

  Oh, how I miss seeing your face. I was only able to look upon it for three days, but it is such a lovely one. A lovely face, a lovely body. Such a fine specimen you were, seated in my laboratory. But now you’re gone, far from me.

  I never dreamed your first move after reanimation would be to leave me. I never dreamed I’d lose you so quickly, my Jolene.

  I only want to help you. I can help you. You awoke too soon, you see. I didn’t have a chance to finish the process. As you are now, you’re a monster. But I can complete you so no one will ever know the difference between you and a living, breathing individual. You can retake your normal life, with my help.

  Right now, you are a work half-finished. With my help, you will be a masterpiece, my darling girl.

  Please. Come home to me. Let me help you. No one else can help you as I can.

  My partners are not as kind as me. I hear they’ve sent you a message, that you’re being watched. Let me assure you, if you come home to me, I will do you no harm, nor will I harm your friends. I promise you will get no such assurances from my partners. They are not happy at your escape, and will do anything to bring you back…in any shape. I trust you know what I mean.

  But me? I love you. You are one of my greatest successes. Or at least you will be. Come home, dearest Jolene.

  With loving affection,

  Your creator

  P.S. If you’d like to find me, there’s no need for fuss or silly internet searches. I am at 2959 Primrose Path, your home. Do you remember it? I do hope to see you here soon. My dearest Jolene.

  I snapped my laptop closed and jerked my hand away as though it bit me. In a way, it had.

  “Lucy,” I tried to call, but my voice was weak still and the doors between our rooms were closed. My cell phone was on my desk, well out of my reach as I still wasn’t strong enough to stand.

  I reopened my computer.

  The email was still there, staring at me. “Dearest Jolene,” it called me. It taunted me. “Your creator.”

  I opened a Google search and typed in the address. 2959 Primrose Path. I clicked Enter.

  There it was, right in front of me. A real estate entry for the property at 2959 Primrose Path. Thirteen miles from campus, high up in the foothills. I clicked over to Google Earth to be sure, zooming in with their street view until I was practically at the front door.

  This was it. The welcome mat. The friendly swing. The homey front porch.

  “Lucy,” I said again, but Lucy still didn’t hear me. I tried to shout. “Luce!” No response. Then I remembered: Lucy wasn’t home.

  I read and reread the email while I awaited her return, and the return of my strength. I knew every word by heart within minutes, and fear and anger helped bolster my decrepit limbs. When I finally heard the door to Lucy’s room slam, I shouted. “Luce!”

  It took a while for the door between my room and the b
athroom to open, though. Had I been able to, I’d have paced a track in the carpet in my room. When Lucy appeared in the doorway she looked pale, and I leaned forward. “Are you okay?”

  She smiled, though her face remained wan. “I’m fine. I think my stomach is mad at me from the total grease-fest yesterday. But that’s not important. What’s going on in here? You sounded upset.” She walked to the bed and sat down beside me, her face betraying how she really felt at reexposure to my scent.

  “Here,” I said, turning my computer screen toward her. “Read this.”

  More color drained from her already-pale face. “Oh my God. Is this for real?”

  I nodded. “I think so. Nobody knows about me but you and Eli. The address, here.” I pulled up Google Earth again. “That’s it. That’s the house.” I swallowed a mouthful of nothing. “The laboratory.”

  Lucy shuddered, shaking the bed. “Your creator? Ugh, that’s creepy. I don’t trust this. You can’t go.”

  “What choice do I have? Seems like the others are just biding their time till they catch me anyway. They know where I am.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “No buts,” I said. “We’re beyond buts.”

  “No we’re not. There has to be another way.” She paused and thought, then snapped her fingers. “That’s it. We call Strong. I’m sure he’s close by, and I think it’s time to call in the professionals.” Then she smiled a secret smile, meant only for herself, but I couldn’t help but see it.

  I snorted. “Strong? What’s he gonna do? Fix me with his bulging biceps? Come on, Luce. He can’t help me! This person, the creator, might be my only hope. I can’t keep living like this.”