by Leah Rhyne
“Shh,” my mother said, standing up suddenly and eyeing the door. “They’re coming. I can hear their voices.” I heard them, too. Loud and clear.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Look, just let me keep charging here. I need to get as strong as I can for now, to see how far we can carry things. Block me. Don’t let them see. They’ll unplug me. They want me weak.”
My father nodded, then stepped aside so he stood in front of the outlet. “Right. Go back to being comatose,” he said. “We’ll get them talking, see what we can learn, see how long we can stall. But when I give the signal, pull the tape off my hands, okay? I need my hands back. Then we can…”
But I never learned his plan. He stopped talking as the door burst open and Strong and Sondra walked in, dragging Eli and Lucy behind them. I leaned back in my chair, mouth slack and eyes half-open. Strong wore a blanket draped around his shoulders.
Eli looked like he’d been through hell and back again. His face was bruised and bloodied, and I remembered the sounds of the fight in the car when I lay in the trunk. Dark, heavy eyelids, head drooping down, Eli looked as though all the fight had long since been taken from him. My heart sank.
But then I looked at Lucy.
And Lucy looked angrier than I’d ever seen her, and she looked whole. Not sick. Not broken, save her significant limp. But her fury was palpable, and I flashed back for a second to a memory of Lucy slugging a football player whose hands were a little too grabby while they danced one night at a club. I knew from that point on never to get Lucy good and angry—she had a fiery redhead temper, and she could kick some ass when inspired.
She looked inspired right then. Really, truly inspired.
This might work out after all, I thought. But then I looked at my father, looming over me, and wondered. But what’s the signal? What’s the plan?
“Get your eyes off her.” My father, once again painfully aware of my nakedness while doing his best to block my electrical cord snaking its way to the wall, scowled at Strong. “You there, give me that blanket.”
Strong held it out, but stared at me and flicked his tongue in and out of his mouth while my father reached out for the blanket with his tied-up hands, then attempted to spread it over me while he faced the other direction. My mother stepped forward, and together they covered me up to my neck.
“You bastards,” my mother said, and I started at my mother’s choice of words. She hated bad language. “You bastards killed my only child. Look at her. She’s comatose.”
I played dead as best I could. It wouldn’t do to let the bad guys know I was ready to fight.
Lucy side-stepped Strong and Sondra. Her pale skin neared purple with rage. She ran to me, knelt before my feet, and tried to look into my eyes. “Jo? Are you even still in there? You look terrible, even worse than before.”
I love you too, bitch, I thought.
“Actually,” said Eli from across the room where he slumped against the wall. A huge swollen lump glowed red on his temple. “Actually, I think Jo looks a hell of a lot better. Of course, you didn’t see her yesterday, or earlier today. She was…a disaster. But this is better. How’d they fix you?” He sounded honestly curious, ever the pre-med student.
I, of course, didn’t answer. Not that anyone expected me to.
“Oh, right. You can’t move yet, can you? They let you shut down. Assholes.” He glared at Strong and Sondra, but then groaned, holding a hand to his side. “You assholes better be able to bring her back to us.” He sounded only half-hearted, though. He groaned again, his face flushing with pain.
“Eli!” my mother said, old habits dying hard. “Language!”
“Sorry, Mrs. Hall.” He slid down the wall until he sat, barely holding his upper half upright.
I clenched my jaw tighter, willing myself to stay quiet. I didn’t know what sound to make—a laugh and a scream both trembled just below the surface of my self-control, waiting for me to slip up and let them out. Either would be my downfall.
Lucy looked at my dad. “I think he’s got some broken ribs.”
He nodded and glared at Strong. His jaw clenched, and he worked hard to loosen it. I’d seen that jaw muscle clenched many times in high school. Drinking with friends until dawn? Tight jaw face. Sneaking a boyfriend in through a window? Tight jaw face. Always followed by thunderous shouting.
But not this time. He heaved a great sigh instead. “Look,” he said, pleading with Strong. “Man-to-man, mano-a-mano, please, tell me, why did you do this to my girl? Who are you working for?”
Strong puffed up and looked pleased. “I thought you’d never ask.” He turned to Sondra. “Your turn, Miss Recruiter. Wouldn’t it make more sense to recruit them than to take their money and run? Teach a man to fish, right? Go on. Teach fishing.”
Sondra giggled like a schoolgirl and pushed him playfully. It was then I noticed the gun in her waistband, which flashed when the light hit it as her shirt pulled up. “Adam! That’s not exactly an enticing way to present information to them.” She spoke in her syrupy voice again, and walked to my parents and patted my mother on the arm. “Here, you poor dears. You’ve been through so much. Why don’t you have a seat?”
They didn’t move.
She continued as though they had, as though she was just having a chat with some friends on a quiet Sunday afternoon. “The answer to your question is simple, Mr. Hall. We are the Order of the Adversaries. Sounds intimidating, right? But we’re nothing of the sort.” She laughed, a playful sound that belied her age.
My mother nodded encouragingly, like she was interested, the same way she always responded to Jehovah’s Witnesses who came to spread the good news at our door. My mother was a champion at being pleasant in unpleasant situations. Sondra ate it up, and continued in a singsong voice. She had her script memorized.
“Have you ever felt like the world is going to fall apart, my dears? Our country is divided. It’s ruled either by heathens, or by a religious right that believes only in filling its own pockets. There are murders in the streets, mass shootings by the dozens, and no one lifts a finger. That’s where we come in. We’re ready and willing to lift our not-insignificant fingers to do the job no one else wants. We are preparing for the Great Upheaval.
“We believe in a complete absence of religion, of government, of anyone telling anyone else what to do, how to live, or what to buy. We support survival of the fittest. And to that end, we feel our country requires the Great Upheaval.”
“But how?” my father said. “How can we fix things?” He sounded honest, earnest. I was impressed. But beside him, Lucy stewed, glowing red. I wondered how long this could last, and what plan my father was formulating while he let Sondra blather on. Lucy wasn’t going to remain silent much longer.
Nearby, Strong’s eyes glazed over with pure, unadulterated pride, as if he were listening to a prophet speak. His hand floated up to cover his heart. Clearly, they’d both drunk the Kool-Aid.
“Well, that’s where our girls come in. They are our spies, our soldiers. With them, we can achieve infiltration and penetration. Penetration into churches that corrupt, government organizations that neglect. Penetration into fledgling governments with access to nuclear capabilities.” Here, she nodded at Lucy, who responded by sticking out her tongue.
Sondra ignored her. “And penetration into industries with the chemicals and technologies we require to grow our army, extend our reach ever further. With our girls, we’ll have the most loyal, most dedicated soldiers in the history of the world, because we’ve created them! We can control them utterly.”
“But what will they do once they achieve…penetration?” My father covered a disbelieving laugh with a wet, sticky cough. “And why can’t you just recruit normal soldiers? Why all girls?”
“Oh, dear sir, who doesn’t trust a lovely girl? We’ll have beautiful soldiers, ready to perform any duty, and it’s the lust of our leaders that will allow them to succeed. Our process has been less than reliable thus far, but now we feel we�
��ve perfected it enough to share our methods around the world.” She blushed, and cast her eyes down with shameful pride. “We have offices around the country, you know. And laboratories as well. We’re growing, and soon, when we’ve shared our research and created more and more girls, we’ll be the biggest organization of our kind in the world.”
Suddenly, over against the wall, Eli snorted, and then doubled over, clutching his stomach. I jerked inadvertently, ready to leap to his aid, but my mother pressed herself against me, reminding me to stay put. I was afraid he was dying.
But then he took a deep breath, and with his head between his knees, he let out a giant peal of laughter. We all stared at him, me included, unable to control myself any longer. As everyone stared, consumed by the sight of Eli’s hysteria, he laughed until he cried, and finally, Sondra had enough.
“When you’ve quite finished, dear,” she said, fury palpable in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” Eli said, gasping for air. “It’s just…you’re anarchists creating femme-bots! You’re a giant freaking parody of yourselves.” And then he lost control again.
“Femme-bots?” repeated Sondra. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
Strong appeared at Eli’s side and let loose a kick that landed directly on Eli’s already-battered rib cage. Eli howled and flopped to the ground, writhing like a dying fish on the shore. My mother pressed herself against me again, holding me down with a hip, while Lucy launched herself across the room, knocking into Strong.
Without the use of her arms and her sharp fingernails, though, she was ineffective at best. She bounced off Strong’s brawny shoulder and landed on the ground beside Eli, silent, seething. Her face betrayed no pain, though she’d whacked her head against the wall. She leaned in front of Eli, protecting him from any further action by Strong.
But Strong was done, for the moment. He shrugged, and then spoke to Sondra. “Femme-bots. Austin Powers. It was a movie that came out in the nineties. I’d never thought of the association…but…suffice to say, he’s mocking us. We can’t have that now, can we?”
“Oh, dear,” she said, and she reached out and took Strong’s arm. All trace of persuasion was gone from her face, like she’d been shut off and was no longer the Order’s star recruiter. Eli had destroyed that moment of respite for all of us with his outburst, and for that he had paid. “That surely won’t do. Maybe it is better that the Master’s headed here. Maybe he can talk some sense into this boy.” The sticky-sweet side of her voice was gone, replaced by something flatter and more threatening.
“I don’t expect the Master will have much to say to him,” Strong said. “He probably won’t be here by the time the Master arrives.”
Who is the Master? I wondered. And when will Dad give the signal? What if I miss it?
Urge after urge to attack surged through my body. I was going to lose control soon.
From somewhere deep within the underground lair, an alarm sounded, and everyone in the room jumped.
“What’s that?” my mother said.
“None of your business,” Strong snapped. He looked startled, though. Concerned. “Be right back.”
He left without another word, leaving Sondra standing awkwardly alone. She looked nervous, and suddenly pulled the gun from the back of her ill-fitting pants. She trailed it around the room, pointing at everyone in turn. “I don’t want any funny business,” she said.
“We don’t, either,” my father said. “All we want is to fix our daughter. Let’s get this done. I want our baby back.”
My father stepped in front of me. It looked like a protective gesture, but his hands were suddenly enticingly close to mine. The tape that bound them had a loosened corner, where he’d obviously been working with his fingers to get it started. I could just reach out and pull the tape off, if I wanted. It might pull some of his skin off, I realized, but that would heal. And then we could get out of there.
But I had to wait for the signal.
“We already told you,” she said. “We need money. Lots of it. Any business connections you have that will help us in our quest. Give us what we want and we’ll reverse the process on Jolene.”
“You’re such a damn…” Lucy exploded with anger, but my mother shook her head at her, so slightly I was surprised Lucy even saw it. But she must have, because she stopped shouting and risked a glance at me.
I winked.
“Liar,” she whispered.
My father thought for a moment, then said, “You know, Sondra, the problem I’m having, though, is this: I agree with Lucy. I think you’re a liar. I think your organization is garbage. And I can’t wait to see the rest of this goddamn place burn. Jolene, now.”
The signal!
I reached out and ripped the tape from my father’s wrists. He cried out in pain, but his hands were free within a heartbeat. He ran forward, surging like a locomotive, toward Sondra Lewis.
Sondra’s mouth fell open, but her eyes narrowed. She was ready for him. She pointed the gun at my father’s chest, but before she squeezed the trigger, Eli’s glazed-over eyes lit up and he pushed himself to his feet and launched into Sondra. She flew through the air, and the gun fell from her hands. My father was unable to stop and crashed instead into Eli, who stood where Sondra had been. They tumbled to the ground, and Eli yowled in pain.
Sondra landed on the ground beside Lucy, flat on her back. Lucy jumped to her feet, then pinned Sondra to the ground with a foot against her throat. “Don’t move,” Lucy said. “If you do, I’ll crush your windpipe. One stomp is all it’d take. Try me. Please.” Then she turned and grinned at me. “I knew you’d charged long enough! Welcome back to the land of the living!”
Sondra didn’t move. She whimpered, a baby animal trapped by a predator. With no gun and no Officer Strong to protect her, she was reduced once more to just a lowly adjunct professor.
I grinned, my cheeks able to handle it. “Thanks,” I said to Lucy. “What should we do with her?”
As I spoke, I reached to pull the tape from my mother’s hands, but found she’d already done most of the work. “I kept that awful man from taping them too tightly when I struggled. I think he underestimated me,” she said, and then offered me a hand to pull me to my feet.
Against the wall, Eli hadn’t moved since my father had body-slammed him. My father leaned over him, concern etched into his tanned features. I walked over to them, my mother beside me.
“I’m so sorry,” I heard my father whisper.
As I approached, Eli’s face calmed. He managed a pitiful imitation of a smile. “Jo,” he said, his voice thick. “You smell a lot better.”
“You look like crap.”
“Yeah. Thanks. Feel like it too. Where’s the professor?”
“Over there, on the ground with Lucy.”
“Yeah, I have her,” called Lucy. “But could someone come untape my hands?”
“Mom, could you go help Lucy please?”
I knelt down beside my father and Eli. “Eli, can you get up? We need to get you guys out of here.”
“Jolene, where’s your blanket?” My father’s voice was gentle.
I looked down at myself, and then shrugged. “Daddy, does it really matter anymore? You’ve all seen me. And look, I’m so messed up, I look like the Mummy, or some crazy villain from a movie. Please don’t freak out. I need you.”
“I’m not freaking out, dear. I just can’t look at you like this. Please cover up. For me?”
“Daddy, my modesty went out the window the minute I woke up naked on one of these stupid tables. Besides, my only concern right now is getting you guys out. Now, Eli, can you get up?” My voice was firm. I wouldn’t have argued with me. I watched my father think about debating, and then decide against it.
Eli nodded and tried to push himself up. “I think so. Oh, ouch. Okay, something’s broken, but I can walk.” With my father’s help, he was soon on his feet, his wrists were free, and the white-hot pain had left his face.
And then, as
the adrenaline of a sudden escape left the living people in the room, we all looked at each other, the door through which Strong had exited, and then down at Sondra, pinned beneath Lucy’s booted foot.
“Well,” Eli said. “What now?”
“Who has a cell phone?” I asked.
“Nada.”
“Nope.”
“They took them. After you called.”
I tried to come up with a backup plan, and as I considered I stared at Lucy. She looked so strong and tough. “Weren’t you on death’s door last time I saw you? What happened to your arsenic poisoning?”
Lucy snorted. “Arsenic poisoning? What are you talking about? Eli, what is she talking about?”
He groaned and leaned against the wall again. “That’s what Strong told us was wrong with you when you were in the hospital.”
She laughed. “Ridiculous. I never got past the waiting room. Sondra and that other woman were there waiting for me. Sondra said she was going to take me somewhere to get more help. I was halfway frozen, delirious, so I didn’t ask questions. As soon as they had me away from the public eye, they drugged me. Probably the same way they drugged you last week. I guess Adam carried me to their car, but I was never even seen by a doctor. He probably made it all up to make you feel bad.”
“Um, kids? I hate to break up the sharing session,” said my father. “But I really think we should be going.”
I raised my hand, loving the flexibility of my semi-healed body, even as I could feel the power from the cord cease when I unplugged. “Where, though? That way leads to Strong. And to who knows what else. And for all we know, they could be watching us.”
The voice came from above, below, around. It was Martha. “Don’t worry, dearies. We are watching. And we are not pleased.”
In the background, I heard Strong’s voice. “Bastards. Let Sandy go.”
“Oh, hell no.”
We all turned to Lucy. She’d pressed her foot even harder against Sondra’s throat, and Sondra began to thrash about on the ground, struggling to break free. Lucy didn’t budge, though. She was statuesque, regal, her chin tilted toward the ceiling, where, somewhere, a video camera was trained down on her. Her body language screamed defiance, and she slowly raised a hand and extended her middle finger.
