The female stagehand was clutching her face as blood and other fluids squirt out between her fingers.
“Oh hell,” said Tyler, resigned to the reality unfolding before him, and he shot her in the face through her left hand. She, too, fell to the floor and was still.
“I guess I was right about guns,” mumbled Tyler to himself, as he was pleased with himself for taking out the murderers and minimizing the casualties of what could’ve been a worse tragedy.
“Damage control,” he declared to himself, as security burst onto the set with the police.
They saw him standing there with his pink assault rifle and three bodies around him. “Put down the gun!”
He instinctively turned towards them, still holding the AR-15. “No, wait.”
There were claps of thunder, and Tyler looked down at the holes in his chest to see blood welling out, soaking his designer shirt.
“Dammit.”
He released his grip on the rifle and dropped to his knees, but the life slipped out of his body before he fell face down on the floor.
***
03:42 HRS
Elicia glanced at Peter and Brittany dozing off in the back seat. “Where are we going?” she asked rubbing her eyes. It had been a long night.
“To see a friend,” replied Betancourt. “She is an epidemiologist who works for the CDC. I think she might be able to shed some light as to what is going on and what Kafka might be up to.”
“So we’re just going to wake her up in the wee hours of the morning and tell her about terrorists, monsters, and aliens?”
“Not we,” corrected Betancourt. “I. She has a family. I can’t just bring an infected soldier and the Seditious Blogger into her home. Besides, Major Birdsall isn’t in any condition to be walking around right now.”
Elicia nodded, stifling a yawn. “How about you? Don’t you have anyone we need to warn? Kafka and Ramses may try to come after your loved ones.”
“My wife died of ovarian cancer four years ago. I remarried, but it was a huge mistake. We divorced after six months. She’s like a stranger to me.”
“Any kids?”
“Two. Both grown. I have a daughter living in England working as a psychologist and a son stationed in Germany.”
“He’s army, too?”
Betancourt nodded. “Both are out of harm’s way at the moment.”
“It must be difficult having them so far away.”
“Not as difficult as you would think. The army keeps me busy. When you go career like I have, it becomes your whole life.”
“Do you still think about her?”
“My first wife?”
“Yes.”
“Every day. She was the one. There’s no one else that can fill her shoes.”
“What was her name?”
“Penelope.”
“She must’ve been pretty.”
Betancourt allowed a small smile to grace his stern face for a fraction of a second. It was the first that Elicia ever saw on his face, and she wished Peter was awake to see it. “She was beautiful.”
“I’m sorry,” said Elicia, not sure of what else to say. It was awkward talking like this with the Colonel.
“You remind me of my daughter when she was in college,” remarked Betancourt. “She was sharp like you, but she stayed out of trouble. None of this hacking or blogging stuff about such controversial topics.”
Elicia flushed a little with embarrassment. “Yeah, well, if I had a time machine…I don’t suppose the army has one of those sitting around…”
“Not that I know of,” said Betancourt. “Why did you do it?”
“The blog and the podcasts?”
Betancourt nodded.
Elicia sighed. “It’s the whole invasion of privacy thing. I get it. I’m sure the government foiled lots of terrorist plots with all of their surveillance under the first Patriot Act. And yes, if you have nothing to hide why care? All in the name of national security.”
“But…”
“But, what if the government started using it against the people? Look what’s happening in Washington. There’s all of this polarization and in-fighting between the Left and Right. People are out of work, suffering, and pissed off. What if the government no longer is serving the people and the people want a change?”
“What, like a revolution?” asked Betancourt skeptically.
“It doesn’t even have to be that extreme,” said Elicia. “But what if the people wanted a change? The government would do everything in its power to keep the status quo. They don’t want things to change. They don’t want to give up their power.”
“That’s a generalization, but I see your point,” conceded Betancourt.
“So what if the government started using its agencies to spy on the populace to thwart any kind of dissention?”
Betancourt hated to admit it, but the girl was right. Such power in the hands of a governmental ruling class could be dangerous.
“And what about all of these shootings and mass murders,” continued Elicia.
“What about them?”
“My psychology professor said that when individuals lash out against complete strangers, it’s usually a sign of paranoia.”
“So what does any of that have to do with government surveillance?”
“Everything. There’s no privacy anymore. You can’t make a call, send an email, or buy anything without it being recorded and analyzed by various government agencies. Maybe people are on to it.”
Betancourt sniffled. “Civilians aren’t privy to half of what’s going on. How could they know?”
“Maybe it’s just a feeling. They might not be able to put their finger on it, but they can feel it. Maybe it’s a general sense of feeling ill at ease.”
“And you think that government surveillance is causing this.”
“Look what’s happening now with this RGT,” said Elicia. “Has the government conducted studies to look at the long term effects of secretly extracting memories through people’s retinas?”
“But this isn’t government,” reminded Betancourt. “These are…terrorists.”
“From another planet,” said Elicia.
“Yeah,” said Betancourt, “but they’re not here yet.”
“It’s like everything we do leaves a digital imprint somewhere.”
“But that’s accountability,” pointed out Betancourt. “Crime is down because you can’t commit a crime without leaving something behind that leads right back to you.”
“What about Kafka? He’s not only been able to elude capture, but from what’s been happening lately, it looks like he’s using the technology to his advantage.”
“There will always be those with the know-how to exploit the technology. Is that what you are saying?”
“Exactly,” said Elicia.
Betancourt thought she made a good, if not grim, point. What good was all of this technology if it could be used against them? That was exactly what Kafka was doing.
They rode on in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the tires on the road over the hum of the engine.
“You know, Major Birdsall might agree with your view of government. He lost two squads to Mexican cartels and OIL, he lost his mother in a terrorist attack, and he just lost his father tonight. He only has his brother left, who happens to be the most dangerous man in the world right now.”
“What does that have to do with government?” asked Elicia.
“Let’s just say that some less than ethical parts of government had a hand in all of that.”
“Jesus,” remarked Elicia, “that’s unbelievable.”
“Is it, after everything you’re telling me? The kid’s a true hero. No matter what’s thrown at him, he just keeps coming back. He has a tremendous sense of duty.”
“Maybe you should tell him that when he’s awake,” suggested Elicia.
“He’s not my biggest fan right now.”
“Why’s that?”
“I wasn’
t responsible for it, but I was involved in what his brother became, as well as Peter’s discharge from the army.”
“What was his brother like? Before he became Kafka.”
“He was kind of like the Major. Not as big or strong, and kind of a nerd, but he had a strong sense of duty. He enlisted after his mother was killed in a terrorist attack. The one on the mall last year.”
“I remember.”
“He was recruited into the Infantry Drone Program under the Major’s command, but something happened to him over time. He developed a brain tumor that allowed him to communicate with the undead drones. We had never seen anything like it before. Over time, Carl began to change. He became faster, stronger.”
“So what happened?”
“General Ramses ordered a kill chip to be placed into his head, in case he got out of hand. He was captured by OIL, and Ramses gave the order to trigger the kill chip.”
Elicia put her hand over her mouth in disbelief.
“Well, needless to say, the chip didn’t kill him. Carl knew we tried to terminate him, and it pushed him over the edge…”
“…and onto the opposing side,” said Elicia.
“That’s right.”
“Was he dangerous?”
“I don’t think he was, and I tried to convince Ramses of that, but he wouldn’t listen. But he got his. Carl apparently paid him a visit and infected him. I guess he wanted an inside man.”
Betancourt pulled down a quiet street and slowed down. “We’re here.” He pulled in front of a large, modern house with a good-sized front lawn.
“Nice,” said Elicia.
Betancourt put the Humvee in park and killed the engine. “You wait here with the Major and your sister.”
“You said she had a family,” said Elicia concerned. “You’re not just going to ring the doorbell at four in the morning.”
“Ms. Corti, I am a highly trained commando. Her family won’t even know I’m there.” He saw the dubious look on her face. “Trust me.”
“I don’t trust government, remember?”
“I’ll be back, but it’s going to be a while. Sit tight and keep an eye on the Major and your sister. Honk the horn if there’s trouble.”
“Will do, Colonel.”
Betancourt rounded the house to the back door. He produced his mini-com multi-tasker and utilized the Skeleton Key app that the army had standard, in case the need to breach a premises arose.
The digi-lock disengaged with a chime and he slipped inside, gently closing the door behind him. He was inside a very spacious kitchen. He circumvented the island and made his way into the living room. He passed through and found the staircase situated in the center of the house.
He crept silently up the stairs, past the two young children’s bedrooms, and was standing outside the master bedroom. The door was cracked open. He peeked inside.
Dr. Marcy Cummings was sound asleep on the opposite side of the bed next to her husband, who was snoring like a chainsaw.
He crept silently into the room and around the bed to the other side. She was lying on her side facing away from him. He tapped her gently on the shoulder, mimicking one of the children. She stirred a bit but didn’t wake. He tapped again, gently, but more insistently.
She mumbled and rolled over to face him, her eyes slowly opening. Before she could get a word out, he reached out and clamped his hand over her mouth. Her eyes went wide, and she tried to sit up, but his hand over her mouth kept her down.
“Shhhh,” he whispered. “It’s Darius. I need to talk to you.”
The chainsaw faltered, as Mr. Cummings rolled over on his side facing away from them, and resumed again. She nodded her head in recognition, and he took his hand off her mouth. She carefully slid out of bed and he followed her out of the bedroom.
They slipped past the children’s bedrooms and descended the stairs in silence. When they reached the living room, Betancourt made as if he was going to say something, but Marcy put her index finger to her lips and he waited.
She descended the stairs off the kitchen into a large finished basement with a full kitchenette, a regulation size pool table, and an expensive looking foosball table.
She turned on him, “Darius, what the hell are you doing breaking into my home?”
“I’m sorry, Marcy, but I needed to speak with you in an official capacity. It’s an urgent matter of national security.”
“How’s the new wife?”
“Jesus, Marcy. It’s been that long? She left me, but enough about that. There’s something I have to discuss with you.”
Marcy was a physician, but she was also an agent of government, so she understood. She gestured for him to sit at the counter in the kitchenette, and they both took a seat in high stools with nice beige cushions.
“I’m just an epidemiologist. What’s going on that you need to talk to me?”
***
Elicia sat patiently in the Humvee watching her sister and Peter sleep. Brittany was quiet and still, but Peter shifted around, moaning in the back seat. Elicia turned on the light inside and glanced at Peter’s wounds. They looked severe, and she wondered how he was even still alive.
She scanned the road for police, but the block was quiet. The authorities had no way of knowing Betancourt would come here…or at least that was what Elicia hoped.
Peter was groping around in the dark. It was pitch black all around him, and there was something wrong with his face. He felt it with his fingers and knew his features were distorted.
A voice called out to him in the darkness. Pete. But it wasn’t really a voice at all. It was more like a suggestion or an idea. Pete, why did you let Dad die?
“I didn’t let him die. You killed him, Carl. You did it.”
I warned you, Pete. You wouldn’t listen. I just wanted what was best for you and Dad.
“You want us to be monsters, like you.”
I made you better, Pete. Faster. Stronger. All I wanted was for you to do the same for Dad. I tried to will you to do it, but you resisted, and now he’s dead.
Peter was suddenly plagued with an unbearable guilt. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it,” Peter cried out into the void.
And because you couldn’t, Dad is dead. Why resist, Pete? Why resist improving, becoming a better being?
“No, you’re not better. You’re not better.”
You put your faith in an army that was corrupt, in people who would murder your brother for their own perverse ends. People who allowed Mom to be murdered, who created the very murderers that erased her out of our lives. You have this obligation, this sense of duty to them, but what about your family, Pete? Where was your duty to your family?
Peter clawed desperately at the blackness all around him, hot tears streaming down his demoniac features. “I tried to protect them. Dammit, Carl, I tried to protect you!”
And you failed, Pete, but now I’m in a position to protect you. You know what it feels like to have lost family and friends because of your weakness. So why deny me my duty to protect you? Do you want me to suffer in guilt and remorse as you have all this time?
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
Oh, I know very well. Mom is dead. Dad is dead. I lost comrades in Xcaret, too. I know the loneliness of survival, to be the only one safe, but I don’t have to be alone. You can be safe with me.
“I don’t want to be safe with you as the world dies. I’ve outlived too many good people already. If it’s the end, I want peace.”
There was illumination from above, revealing a tall mirror in front of Peter. His reflection flashed an evil grin back at him.
It is too late for that, Pete. I’m already a part of you. You will be spared from the terrible fate that waits the world. That is my gift to you, but you cannot stop death.
“You are not a part of me. I reject your gift,” Peter said bitterly. He reached out and smashed the mirror with his right fist. The glass shattered and Peter reached out, grabbing his doppelgänger by the
neck and squeezing.
You know, you should really see a therapist, said his double. Way to reach out and touch yourself. You’re going to go blind if you keep that up.
“Screw you. You’re not real.”
So, I’m a hallucination, which means you’re crazy. Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I blew up your therapist, so I guess you’re screwed. She wasn’t very good, anyway.
“Tell me about this invasion that my brother is planning! Tell me everything!”
The double reached up and tried to claw at Peter, but it was unable to make contact. It was as if some invisible barrier was preventing it from seizing Peter.
Why can’t I get to you?
“You give me some answers and then I’ll give you yours,” demanded Peter, tightening his grip on its throat. What the hell? If it knew about the serum, it wouldn’t change anything…or so Peter hoped.
Oh, I see. Quid pro quo. Okay, I’ll bite.
Peter tightened his grip around its neck.
It’s an expression, asshole. I’ll tell you what you want to know, but then it’s my turn.
“That’s more like it.” Peter loosened his grip so it could talk easier. That’s right. It wasn’t actually talking.
The invasion has already begun. There is nothing you can do to stop that now.
“Begun? What do you mean it has begun?”
I am not the only one of my kind. I am one of many, walking unseen amongst your ranks except by individuals. If your people ever catch on, it will be too late.
“What do you mean you walk among us? You aren’t real.”
Yet you hold me by my throat and are having a conversation with me.
“You’re a figment of my imagination! A hallucination!”
Then why question a hallucination? What truth do you hope to uncover?
“I’m not the only one who can see you. General Ramses or Assistant Director Wolff were both bitten by Carl. Those are the others you are talking about.”
And your brother.
Betancourt laid everything out for Marcy from soup to nuts. He told her about the Infantry Drone Program, THV, the crash site in the Congo, RGT, Peter, Carl, Carl’s tumor, his ability to communicate with the drones, the kill chip, and the birth of Kafka.
I am Automaton 3: Shadow of the Automaton Page 22
