Cheating Time

by T. R. Graves

  "Without them, there's no cause worth living for. If I didn't just hear where your loyalty lay, you easily would have been included in my list of people I'd be watching out for. Now I realize if the circumstances were right, it'd be you against me. That hurts, but I'd rather know the truth than be blindsided," I said, putting my hand over his and patting.

  I didn't want there to be hard feelings between us. We'd known each other too long for that. There was only one situation where he and I would be enemies. I didn't have to pretend we were enemies on every front.

  Jayden took my show of compassion, comfort, and respite as a sign that he'd be allowed to be more to me. He tried to intertwine our fingers at the same time he leaned over to kiss me, assuming he'd still be able to hypnotize me with his good looks, charisma, and strength. Instead of giving in to him, I pulled my hand back and stood up before he landed anything more than a brush of a kiss on my chin.

  That's when hooting, howling, and hollering, the kind that reminded me of Gran's black-and-white westerns when cowboys and Indians were in the heat of battle, rose up behind Jayden and me at the very instant a machete came swishing toward Jayden's throat. He ducked in the nick of time, and it was in an effortless way that made it seem as if he'd known at that exact moment a blade was going to come out of nowhere and attempt to behead him.

  Either Jayden, a warrior who was prepared for battle at all times, had heard their approach and expected the attack, or his reaction time was shorter, swifter, and more decisive than I could ever have imagined.

  Before I could suck in a breath of astonishment, Jayden gracefully jumped to his feet, chopped the hand holding the machete, and punched the face of the man hooting a bizarre war call, knocking him to the ground.

  In this situation, there was no such thing as unarmed or mercy. The derelict man sprawled out before Jayden had tried to kill him. His fate had been sealed with that decision. Jayden snatched the machete up and drove it deep into the man's chest, stopping him mid-hoot as blood spewed from his bearded mouth and nose like a fountain. The stranger clutched his chest like he was desperate to seal the fatal wound and ebb the flow of blood gushing from his chest.

  Jayden was all Surrogate Soldier. He spun around, wielding the machete in front of him and sizing up the man's gang. The most dangerous of the remaining three was the banshee woman who was charging Jayden and yelling, "ABOMINATION! DIE!"

  I observed from the side and saw when Jayden's jaw clenched with her vow. As graceful and beautiful as any avenging angel I'd ever imagined while reading Tawney's paranormal romance novels, Jayden stood ready. Stood proud.

  When the woman lunged toward the Surrogate, he whipped the machete through the air before him—exactly where she was flying—and watched as her stomach was sliced wide open. The rain of blood splattering and speckling everything near the fight, including me, felt surreal. I saw it. I felt it. I just couldn't believe what was happening.

  Behind the woman who was now falling to the ground was a younger man. He couldn't have been any older than Jayden. He glanced to his side as if trying to decide who would be the next of them to attempt to murder the atrocity Jayden.

  "You'll want to think a little longer and a little harder before you try to take me on," Jayden warned.

  When Jayden, the abomination in this brainwashed man's eyes, spoke to him, his determination was fueled. With the same battle cry the first man had bellowed and a gutting knife in hand like the one Jayden used on the hog, the younger man put himself between Jayden and the final member of their group.

  He didn't sneak around or lunge toward Jayden. The difference between him and the others was he was nearly as graceful as Jayden as he danced toward him and his confiscated machete. The grin the man brandished was almost as sadistic as Jayden's weapon.

  "You know you're an abomination. You know you shouldn't exist. Why don't you just let us end all of this right now? I'm sure there's a place reserved in hell just for you and your kind," he taunted.

  "Alongside your friends," Jayden said, waving his hand toward the woman and man he'd already eviscerated, dishing out his own form of mental torture.

  The man didn't even glance their way. "I-I'm not loyal to them. I'm loyal to the cause. We're Outcasts who've been shunned by our nation. We refuse to have MicroPharms inserted into our women, to let Barone's fledglings decide if our people live or die. A perfect society isn't the one God meant for us to have. Sometimes the flawed are our greatest assets."

  The man might not have risked a glance toward his fallen friends, but when he mentioned the flawed and took a quick look over his shoulder, I suspected his speech was meant as much for us as it was for the hooded person behind him. I had no idea if it was a woman or a man. I only knew the person was standing by like me and watching the scene play out before him/her.

  When the hooded figure lifted a powerful fist and pounded it against his or her chest, the man before Jayden bellowed the now familiar battle cry and dove toward Jayden's legs. Faster and more lethal than the avenging angel I suspected he was, Jayden jumped up and came back down, embedding the machete firmly into the back of the taunting man.

  This time I was ribboned with blood. It dripped from my face and joined the sweat soaking my clothes. A scream bubbled from deep within me and burst out.

  Jayden glanced back just long enough to see I wasn't in any real physical danger and flipped his attention back toward the hooded figure who stood by watching. Waiting.

  Jayden crouched. He was ready for the next battle, one that wasn't about to come to him based on the gun that was suddenly revealed from beneath the black robe. Jayden ran toward the figure, purposefully keeping his body between me and the armed person. There was a click that told me Jayden would have been shot if the gun had been loaded properly.

  An instant later, Jayden was on top of the person, rolling across the forest floor and wrestling for the gun until he had full control of it. With it in hand and while waving it toward the person who was now curled up into a ball and sobbing, Jayden, not sure what to do, shouted, "Get up and show your face! Get up now!"

  I almost gasped when the hooded figure crawled to its knees and lowered the hood. Before us knelt a boy who shared several similarities with Rorie. They looked to be the same age, they both had Down syndrome, and he was every bit as intelligent and loyal. He also shared something with Jayden. His eye color. He was a Genetic Anomaly and a Surrogate.

  Holy heck!

  "Who are these people to you?" Jayden shouted.

  Scared, the boy jerked his stare to the ground and remained quiet. Jayden—ignoring any special needs he might have—snatched him up by the collar of his jacket and shouted, "I said for you to tell me who these people are to you."

  The boy was sniffling when he said, "They… they took me in." Suddenly, the boy stared Jayden directly in the face, and recognition that said he knew exactly who Jayden was sank in. "Oh my God! You're… you're…"

  He was shocked, confused, and—dare I say it—awed. Jayden awed him. His words were every bit as thick as Rorie's as he glanced toward the heap of bodies. "My brother… He's sick. He needs medicine. You can help. You're the only one who can help."

  Jayden looked around. "Where is he? We can help him. There was no need for all of this. We would've helped him."

  I watched Jayden and tried to decide if he was telling the boy the truth or if this was one of those moments when he was manipulating the boy—much the way he manipulates everyone—in order to make his way to their camp and kill the boy's sick brother. I hoped he wasn't lying. I wanted to believe Jayden would give the sick boy the benefit of the doubt.

  The boy before us, the one who'd just been with the people who were just trying to kill us, instantly trusted Jayden. As quick as a flash, he jumped up and ran toward the deepest part of the forest.

  "He's this way," he shouted over his shoulder.

  Jayden glanced toward me. I swear he wanted to check on me, see if I was okay. Instead, he said, "Carlie, go back to
camp."

  I shook my head. "No, I'm coming with you."

  He planned to argue with me and demand I do as I was told, but the boy was fast. If Jayden stood by ordering me around for another minute, he'd lose the boy and his chance to find the boy's brother.

  He was pissed, but he didn't say anything else. He just took off fast and hoped I wouldn't be able to keep up. Fortunately for me, the battle royale had sent a surge of adrenaline through me that might have me up for days. With it pumping through my veins, I had no trouble at all keeping up with Jayden. Much to his irritation.

  Before long, we were scaling the side of a steep hill that was so eroded the roots and vines making it up protruded from the soil, offering me the rope I needed to pull myself up and behind Jayden and the boy. When we were almost at the top of the hill, the boy disappeared, ducking into a dark black hole.

  Jayden looked back at me. Again, he wanted to demand I go back to the camp, and again, I ignored his unspoken orders. I stood next to him outside the cave entrance with every intention of following him inside and letting the chips fall where they may. No matter how much he'd hurt me, I would not abandon him here with people who might actually kill him. Us.

  Machete in one hand and gun in the other, Jayden stepped into the cave first, making sure to keep himself between whatever and whomever we might encounter and myself. Like a two-year-old who was afraid I was about to be left, I reached up and grabbed the back of his T-shirt and followed close behind him.

  The contrast between the bright, sunny day and the dark, dreary cave was temporarily blinding. It took several seconds for my eyes to focus and for me to take in what was before us. Confirming for me that we'd just walked into a trap bigger than the Gulf of Mexico, Jayden reached back and slipped the gun into my hand. He'd forced me to spend hours at target practice during our survival training. He knew I was nearly as good a shot as him. What he'd not expected was to find my hands shaking convulsively.

  In my opinion, and if the four giant black panthers staring back at us were any indicator, we were about to die.

  Chapter 27

  Ferocious Animals

  Carlie

  Jayden's machete and my gun would never be enough to take on the wild creatures that were already hissing, growling, roaring. Two of them had their backs arched while the other two hugged the ground of the cave in a position that told me they were about to pounce.

  As if the animals were not wild and ferocious, the fearless boy clapped his hands once. "Sasha, heel!" Clap. "Vixen, heel!" Clap. "Jadbalja, heel!" With a final clap, he said, "Bagheera, you heel, too!"

  With each command and clearly against their better judgment, since we looked like their next meal, the animals dropped to their bellies and ducked their heads into their paws.

  Rewarding each of them, the boy threw a single strip of jerky near the nose of each animal. None moved. None looked toward the meat sitting before them.

  "Eat!" the boy ordered, and instantly the four beasts swiped a paw and pulled the treats to their mouths.

  As if the scene before us was everyday and normal, the boy glanced over to us and said, "Follow me. Sean's this way."

  He led us down a tunnel that seemed to go deeper and deeper and get smaller and smaller and tighter and tighter. At some point, I wondered if we were being set up. Sitting ducks. Finally, the claustrophobic tunnel opened into a giant cavern, one complete with stalactites, stalagmites, and a pool of water that looked like it was lit from below by radioactive creatures.

  "Simon!" Someone weakly bellowed before surrendering to a fit of coughing.

  The boy who'd tried to kill us ran toward one of the cave's natural columns. "Sean! I've brought people who can help you. You're… you're not going to believe this."

  Jayden and I stepped toward the crumpled bundle of blankets, and at the same moment, we sucked in a shocked breath.

  Holy crap on a cracker!

  Jayden cursed under his breath at the same time the boy before us uttered the same words, using the same tone, lilt, and cadence. I'm not sure why I was surprised since the boy crumpled in a heap on the floor might well have been Jayden's identical twin.

  Sean may have been sick and curled up before he laid eyes on Jayden, but the minute our presence registered, he was up with a knife in one hand and a sword in the other. His back was against the wall, and he was edging his way toward the boy who'd led us to him.

  "Simon, what the hell have you done? No one is supposed to find the cave," he shouted over his shoulder, and his words echoed through the cavern.

  Jayden's movements mimicked Sean's. It was eerie just how much alike they were. I wasn't sure if identical twins born and raised together could have been more similar in their looks, actions, and reactions.

  "Who are you?" Sean asked Jayden with the exact same bewilderment we all felt.

  It took Jayden a long time to respond. "Look… we don't want to hurt you. In fact, I think the two of us have lots to talk about," Jayden finally said, waving his hand between them, alluding to the fact that they were too much alike for it to be coincidence. "Let's put our weapons away. Then you can tell us what's wrong with you… why you're hiding out in this cave and dying."

  As if I were his mortal enemy, Sean glared my way.

  "I don't trust a Surrogate in the presence of a Procreate,"—cough—"and pretending as if Procreates don't want to keep us down." Cough. "They treat us like shit and expect us to lap it up like it's a gourmet meal." Cough. "I'm done living like that. If I die in this cave, at least I'll die a man who refused to compromise his morals"—cough—"and his ethics. A man who refused to pretend as if I were not born a"—cough… cough… cough—"slave."

  It took everything in me not to run to the side of this man and see if there was anything I could offer him. He looked too much like Jayden for me not to care that he was dying before my very eyes.

  "I-if I leave, will you talk to Jayden? Let him know what's wrong with you so we can go back to camp, get you some medicine, and see if we can save your life?" I asked, peeking my head around Jayden's arm.

  Jayden had stepped between Sean and me, shielding me as much as possible from the man he considered a threat.

  "You'll never leave here"—cough—"if I have anything to do with it." Cough. "If I let you do that, you'll bring every Surrogate you can find back here,"—cough—"and they'll murder my brother and me in cold blood for treason."

  "What would make them do that?" Jayden asked calmly, tucking me farther behind him.

  Sean shrugged. "I am Surrogate Sean Serkis. I left my post. I didn't tell anyone where I was going." Cough. "I had to get to Asylum to save my brother. I'd heard Barone was going to begin a targeted attack there." Cough. "He planned to rid the nation of as many of the genetically mutated as possible." Cough. "I may not be anything more than a Surrogate in their eyes, and they may have kept me away from my brother as much as they possibly could,"—cough—"but I-I couldn't let them do that do him." Cough. "He didn't deserve"—cough… cough… cough—"that."

  Never skipping a beat, Jayden asked, "How is it your brother got mixed up with a bunch of Outcasts?"

  Simon's laugh was wet and wheezy. "Who the hell would be better?" Cough. "They hate everything to do with Barone and our government. As long as…"—cough—"as long as I kept hidden, they'd"—cough—"protect him with their lives."

  "So you've been holed up here. How long?"

  "I've been here"—cough—"for about a month. Simon's been staying in a different cave with the Outcasts. They've been taking care of him"—cough—"and he's been coming by here periodically, making sure I knew he was okay."

  As soon as Sean was finished answering Jayden, he broke into a full-out fit of coughs. One was so bad that his faced turned purple, the vein on his forehead bulged until I was sure it would rupture, his eyes watered, and he pulled away a palm full of bloody phlegm.

  I couldn't take it another second. I stepped around Jayden and asked, "Did you start getting sick about a week
and a half after you moved into this cave?"

  All three men looked at me as if I'd just grown three heads. Sean and Simon because I dared approach Sean while he was dealing with his fit of coughing. Jayden because I dared step around him and pretend as if his protection wasn't absolutely necessary.

  Simon didn't wait for Sean. "He's been here for thirty days, and he's been sick at least twenty."

  I smiled smugly. "Did you have to rid the cave of bats?"

  Again, the twins leveled identical stares of disbelief my way.

  Simon murmured, "How did you know?"

  I shrugged. "I think you have histoplasmosis… a fungus that grows in soil and material contaminated with bat or bird droppings. Its spores become airborne when the contaminated soil is disturbed. Breathing the airborne spores causes infection. The good news is the treatment is as simple as taking an antifungal medication."

  "The treatment is simple. The treatment is simple." Sean, laughing sardonically, waved his arms around the cave. "Does it look like I have a pharmacy available to me, princess?"

  Princess. Jayden calls me princess.

  I shook my head. "No, but there's drugs at the camp and a doctor I trust," I explained.

  Again, Sean laughed his wet, wheezy laugh. "Back at the camp. You don't say. You'd like me to go back with you. Better yet, you'd like to go back by yourself so you can bring people back to capture my brother and me. Kill us?"

  I shook my head. "You don't have any reason to trust us, but you don't have a lot of options right now either. You're dying. The treatment might be simple, but your fate is inevitable without it. If you die, who'll look after Simon?"

  Jayden intervened. "If I wanted to kill either of you, you'd already be dead. You're too weak to fight me no matter what kind of delusional opinion you have to the contrary. Same goes for your brother. I could've killed him long ago. That's not who we are."

  Sean nodded his head toward me. "She's a Procreate."