Hundred Stolen Breaths

by Campbell, Jamie

  “How do you get back in?” Jumping out of a second floor attic room was one thing. Jumping back in would be impossible.

  “There’s a rope, you throw it over the fence first. Use it and your rubber soled boots to climb back over. If you forget the rope, or someone pulls it back in, you’re a dead man. You only get to make that mistake once, if you know what I mean.”

  “Got it.”

  “Hey, you got plans for sneaking out tonight? Because, if not, there’s a poker game going on in Lodge House Foxtrot. You should come and check it out,” Parsons said, patting me on the back as he stood and returned his tray to the dock.

  I quickly trailed after him. Guys might have been more open to discussing things they shouldn’t at a poker game. Especially if someone had managed to smuggle in some alcohol.

  “You don’t mind if I join you?”

  “Nah, dude. It will do you good to meet some more of the guys,” Parsons continued. “It’s not as bad here as it seems, you’ll see.”

  We walked the path across base, ignoring our own building and continuing on to Foxtrot. A series of strategies for the night ran through my head as I tried to figure out how I could get the guys to open up. Just mentioning something anti-government or anti-Stone was enough to get in front of the firing squad. Not many people would risk it, even if they did agree with the Resistance’s movement.

  I never formed a good plan other than to listen to the conversations and hope someone said something they shouldn’t have. If I didn’t get anywhere, then at least I might have built some allies that wouldn’t report everything back to our superiors if I happened to let something slip myself.

  My mind wandered to Dwyer. I wondered if Sergeant Washington had told my colleagues about my reassignment or if he’d let them all believe I had been punished to the fullest extent for my crimes. I wouldn’t have put it past him to lie, just to make an example out of me.

  Or even to tarnish my name.

  He really hated me.

  Wherever he was, and whatever he was doing, I hoped Dwyer was all right and hadn’t been smeared along with me. With any luck he’d have a new roommate and forget all about me.

  Parsons knocked on a door with no number or signage in block Foxtrot. Someone knocked back on the other side, which caused Parsons to knock again – differently this time. They were speaking in code, letting them know we were in on the secret.

  The door swung open.

  We stepped into the cigarette smoke-filled room, a haze sitting in all corners and lingering in the air. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust and see the four other guys sitting around a table in the middle of the small room.

  It was some kind of storage room, cardboard boxes – now coated with the stench of tobacco, no doubt – lined the room as they sat neatly on shelves. Cobwebs were the main other featured décor, clinging to the roof and underneath the shelves.

  My first thought was that Wren would hate the room. She didn’t like spiders and would stick to the middle of the space so she didn’t risk getting close to them.

  I needed to get her out of my head.

  This wasn’t a game.

  I had to focus or I was going to slip up and say something incredibly stupid. The last thing I needed to do was to give myself away.

  “Who invited the green?” one of the guys asked. He was in my group earlier, Corporal Harper.

  Parsons took a seat and nodded for me to take the one next to him. There was barely any elbow room around the table as we crowded into the small area.

  “He’s fine,” Parsons said. The others didn’t seem to share his confidence in me.

  Harper begrudgingly dealt me into the game and I took my cards. I’d seen the two other men around barracks but didn’t know their names. The last guy was completely new to me, he could have been anyone, for all I knew.

  Parsons did the introductions. “This is Thompson, he started yesterday.” He looked from me to the others, introducing them one at a time. “Davis, Shepherd, Ronson, and Martinez.”

  They collectively gave me a head nod. I still wasn’t entirely sure who was who. Hopefully there wouldn’t be a quiz later.

  Cards flew around the table as we gambled with pieces of cardboard. They represented five cents each, which proved how terrible our pay was. None of us were ever going to retire rich from playing poker or working for the president.

  The conversation was mainly the guys talking up their hands, warning everyone else they were going to win the round. They were all talking smack when it came time to prove their position. A pair of doubles was as good as they came.

  My second hand was a winner. I only needed one more card to get a Royal Flush and I got it in the next deal. I could have walked away with the pile of cardboard, at least a few dollars’ worth.

  But that wouldn’t win me any favors with the boys. I folded when it came time and put my cards in the deck before anyone could see.

  Nobody liked a smartass.

  I would get much further with the guys if I lost and stayed under their radar. Give them my few dollars and it would buy me much more than money could.

  We played through three hands before the conversation got interesting. I’d done a good job of remaining quiet and invisible, waiting for them to forget I was there while losing their inhibitions. Someone had smuggled in some homemade liquor. It tasted like lighter fluid and burned all the way down. The others were drinking it like water.

  With their mouths looser and their concerns about me forgotten, the banter around the table moved onto the subject of our current missions – Defective Clones and Operation Orange.

  Martinez was the one I hadn’t seen anywhere around base. He spat when he talked. “I caught six of them outside the village on patrol today. Took them all back to the labs and let the White Coats deal with them. They were all crying, begging for mercy. You should have seen how pathetic they were.”

  “Better for all of us if they’re gone,” Ronson added.

  Davis had been staring intently at his cards while the conversation went on around him. His lips were turning white they were clamped down so hard.

  “Should put them down at birth,” Martinez continued. “Save us all some trouble. Beats me why anyone would want the organs from Defs anyway. If they’re wrong on the outside, they’re going to be all kinds of wrong on the inside, too.”

  The others nodded in agreement while Davis shook his head. The movement was only slight but I caught it. He didn’t agree with the comments of the others, he was doing everything he could to keep his mouth closed and not betray his opinions.

  Davis was someone that I needed to know better. He might be the spy for the Resistance. And even if he wasn’t, he might be someone that would come in handy as an ally sometime in the near future.

  I made a mental note to speak with Davis next time I got an opportunity. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too far into the future. I needed all the allies I could get.

  Quickly.

  “I heard Stone has hers with her,” Shepherd said, instantly pulling my attention away from Davis. He had to be talking about Wren. Stone had no other clones, she was banned from making any after Wren was born with a defect. It was the one law the president seemed to abide by.

  Ronson’s eyebrows rose. “Why doesn’t she just kill her already? Everyone knows she will be calling her up for duty anytime now anyway.”

  “Her time’s limited. Stone’s just fattening her up.” Martinez drew some more cards before continuing. “I was at her mansion the other day, the shift guard said they’d only have her for a few more days.”

  A few more days.

  Wren only had a few more days.

  But I knew where she was now.

  All I had to do was get to her.

  Chapter 7: Wren

  More guards were assigned to my cell than there usually were. Anything out of routine freaked me out now. I was constantly waiting for the day where Doctor Wagstaff would clear his throat and say ‘it’s time’ in the
serious way he spoke.

  The way I saw it, I didn’t have much to lose. So when one of the guards stood right outside my cell, I had a million questions for him.

  “I need to know what happened to my friend, he was a Defective Clone too. Would you be able to find out for me?” I asked.

  The guard was only a few years older than me, he still wore a slight look of innocence that I thought might mean he wasn’t as hard as the other guards. That perhaps he would be able to see me as a living being.

  I was wrong.

  He looked at me in disbelief, as if it was inconceivable that I thought he would actually help me. That look spoke volumes, telling me far more than his words did.

  “Shut up, Def.”

  I shrunk back to my bed and slumped against the wall. Rocky was probably dead by now anyway. Being stuck in the cell myself, it wasn’t like I could do anything to help him. I’d failed him too many times to count.

  Maybe if he wouldn’t help me with a clone, he would with a trooper.

  “What about the trooper that took me to Laboratory Delta? His name was Reece Thompson. What happened to him?”

  The guard rolled his eyes. “None of your business. Now shut up or I’ll get the doc to make you shut up.”

  I wasn’t going to get anything out of him. It was pointless trying. If I only had a week left in the cell, my time was going to be better spent figuring out a way to escape. I’d already tried the air vents and almost broken my shoulders trying to squeeze through the bars. Failing breaking all my bones, there was no way I could break out of the cell.

  My only chance was running when taken from my cell. It rarely happened. The trip to have tea with Stone was one of the few occasions they had let me out. Another time was when I needed a wash because I was getting too smelly for the guards and they complained.

  That had to be it.

  They would need to take me from my cell and I would take the opportunity to run for it. I was stronger now, healthier, the doctor had said it himself.

  I had been hiding most of the food they were serving me each day. While my body wasn’t as healthy as it was a few days ago, it was still far better than when I was in the village. I would be able to run much faster than I ever could before.

  Hopefully.

  There wasn’t much to hope for now but I still grappled onto a little bit of faith in myself. It was a matter of life and death and I was going to fight with everything I still had for my life.

  But the movement of the guards was a concern. If they came for me at any moment, I needed to be prepared. I had to have a plan in the back of my mind so I could implement it at a moment’s notice.

  When Doctor Wagstaff entered the basement and stopped outside my cell, fear and dread pitted itself in the bottom of my stomach and felt like cement.

  He stared at me for a few minutes, his eyes undertaking an assessment while I sat on my bed. His gray eyebrows were knitted together as he thought, no doubt a million notions whirling in his brain behind them.

  “You’re losing weight,” he finally said, breaking the silence of my prison.

  I fixed my expression so it wouldn’t betray me.

  I bit my tongue so it didn’t reveal my secrets.

  “How are you feeling?” the doctor pressed. He wasn’t going to let me off easily, I could see all the cogs in his head working to come to a conclusion that I was guilty of something.

  I shrugged. “Maybe a little tired.”

  “So you’re losing weight and you’re fatigued? This isn’t good for your health, Wren.”

  My eyes would not tell him the truth.

  My mouth would remain silent.

  My nose would only breathe.

  Doctor Wagstaff gave a wave to the guard who jumped to attention to unlock my cell. He stepped over the steel grate, his medical bag always present at his side. He lugged it onto the bed, the black bag probably weighed more than I did.

  “You might have a virus,” he said, popping a thermometer in my ear and not moving again until it beeped that it was finished. He rubbed it with a cloth before replacing it in the bag. “I’m going to take some blood and see if there is something going on inside you. You don’t have a temperature which is a good thing.”

  I guess that depended on which side you were on.

  He proceeded to prepare a syringe and used it to take blood from my arm. The red liquid wouldn’t tell him what he already suspected. It would say I was fine, virus-free. That would only leave him with his suspicions.

  Would Doctor Wagstaff go to Stone with what he thought I was doing?

  Would they work out how I was disposing of the food?

  Would they force feed me?

  If it bought me extra days so I could come up with a plan, I would be at peace with it. They could do anything they wanted to me as long as I was alive to see it.

  “I’ll get this sample to the lab and see if an antibiotic is necessary,” the doctor continued. “In the meantime, I will alter your meals so they are larger and contain more nutrients. We’ll get to the bottom of this, Wren. Don’t you worry about it.”

  He smiled kindly like I was a child that had just survived their first vaccination. I’m surprised he didn’t offer me a lollipop. I watched the doctor leave, lugging his medical bag as if it weighed nothing.

  The guards were always polite to him.

  Doctor Wagstaff obviously held a lot of respect in the household. Stone had entrusted him with my care, he was my only visitor. The guards never said a bad word about him even though they could find a bad word about anyone.

  Even I liked him and he was going to kill me.

  He had something, a quality to his personality that endeared people to him. I doubted whether he had ever said or done anything wrong his entire life.

  I didn’t have any more time to ponder the doctor as a pair of guards pulled open the door to my cell and took me roughly in their arms.

  The dread that had pooled in my stomach spread over and covered me with sheer terror as they carried me along. We climbed the stairs as I was dragged along the long corridors of the first floor.

  Even though I was stronger than I had been in my entire life, I still couldn’t get out of their iron grip. The guards didn’t answer my pleas for information about where we were going or what we were doing. I was a thing to be transported, I don’t know why I expected anything else.

  We stopped outside a set of double doors while they knocked and our presence was announced. The doors opened automatically and I was dragged inside.

  Stone stood from her large white desk as her eyes narrowed at me. Her hands rested on the table as if to steady herself or keep her hands from lunging for my throat.

  “You are all dismissed,” she said, her voice as cold as her namesake. “Leave the girl and go.”

  My guards released me without warning, causing me to teeter before regaining my stance. Everyone left the room, leaving only the president and myself. Our eyes, exactly the same color and shape, stared at each other in anticipation.

  “Sit down,” she barked at me.

  There was no point arguing, I would pick my battles and wait for the real issue to make my stand. I sat in the white, ornately carved chair across from her desk while she resumed her seat. Even though we were the same height, Stone seemed to tower over me from her position.

  Something I was certain wasn’t a coincidence.

  “I received a report from Doctor Wagstaff this morning,” she started. “What he said was quite… concerning. Apparently you are not in the best of health.” She coughed, as if my terrible disease might be catching.

  “I have been feeling tired,” I said, sticking with the same story. It seemed vague enough to be helpful and not detailed enough to give away my secret. I hoped it would be sufficient to get me back to my cell unscathed.

  Stone suddenly made a fist with her hand and banged it on the desk. Everything jumped with the movement, including me. “Do not sit there and lie to me, you dirty, filthy… thi
ng. You are doing this. You are making yourself sick in order to avoid Fulfilling Your Purpose.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Yes, you are!” Stone stood, pacing around the room with her arms crossed. Anger radiated from her in waves as she tried to remain calm. “You forget, clone, that I am you and you are me. We are the same person. If I were in your situation, I would do the same thing. But you can’t outsmart me, silly girl. I will always be one step ahead of you.”

  We were not the same person.

  We could share an identical genetic code but that did not make us the same person. There had to be more to a person, more than just their genes.

  What about my experiences? The people that had influenced me? Loved me? Surely everything I had gone through in my life contributed more to the person I was?

  I could not be the same as Stone.

  If I was…

  I couldn’t be.

  Maybe we had the same thought about surviving, but any number of people could have had the same idea when placed in the same situation. It didn’t prove anything, it didn’t mean anything.

  Could it?

  My breathing had become ragged as I sat there. I took a few deep gulps, trying to keep it under control. She might think she knew what was going in inside my head, but I wasn’t going to make it easier for her.

  “I’m not doing anything,” I repeated.

  Stone never skipped a beat. “You are not eating the food we are providing. You are disposing of it… somehow. My guess would be down the toilet. You flush away the evidence so we won’t be able to find it and know what you are doing.”

  She was right.

  About it all.

  She continued on with her rant. “You forget that I don’t need you in perfect health to take your organs. They would be perfectly adequate now. If it wasn’t for the doctor’s excessive worrying that everything needs to be exact, I would have had you sliced and diced days ago.”

  Doctor Wagstaff was a good man.

  Even President Portia Stone listened to him.