by R. J. Henry
“Do I know you?”
He rubbed his nose, revealing the exact same Celtic sun, Mayor Daly had on his wrist, under his black suited sleeve. Emily’s heart jumped. “Who are you?”
He pulled back his lips in an openmouthed chuckle. “Don’t worry about who I am exactly.”
She shoved him back from her door, swung it open, hitting him in the gut. He held back his arm, hurling a full forced punch to the back of her head. Her body flung against the frame of her car, and bounced her temple off the metal body. It knocked her unconscious. Her mind faded to the day her daughter had been taken away from her. She knew that tattoo looked familiar, but couldn’t remember until now. The caseworker, she thought. She must be involved, too.
Mike’s face rose towards Mayor Daly’s house, where he stood gazing out his window. Mike returned a nod, and bent down to pick Emily up from the pavement. But, he curiously stared at the contents her purse had piled out of their specific holding places.
He raised the golden box, placed it close to his face, and opened the lid. Glowing with new anticipation, he snapped it shut, placing it safely inside his coat pocket. He bent down towards her ear, and said, “I had a secret once…”
•••
Nick’s palm lightly impacted George’s chest. An absent heartbeat alerted something fierce inside him. “You okay?”
George stared blankly out of his window. Blurry shades of brown, leafless, trees passed by.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“As good as I am ever going to be.” He answered in an adenoidal tone, holding a brief second of eye contact, “Yes. I am okay.”
“Good. Good.”
“Are you going to tell me where we are headed?”
“We are headed towards New Haven after we stop by Emily’s house. With everything going on, that is where everyone is headed. Besides, Emily said she’d be here.”
George chuckled.
“What?” Nick blinked.
“It’s ironic, really. If you think about it.”
Nick took his advice. Within a few seconds, his eyes brightened. “Oh! Yes.” He chuckled nervously. “Funny how things work out.”
Only the hum of the vehicle filled the silent air.
Nick focused his sight on a woman, mid-twenties, jogging down their way. Her pink sports bra barely kept her chest down when her muscles tightened with each quickened stride. Despite a slightly low temperature, she glistened under the sun. Damn, he thought, bewildered by her beauty.
The sound of the back door releasing, broke his throbbing tension. Katie!
He slammed on the breaks, receiving many hateful responses from the passerby drivers. Swirling his shoulders around, Katie happened to slip out of the backseat.
“Dammit, George! No child safety locks on this shit?”
“Eh… It’s an empty promise to ever be fixed.”
Behind them, in the rearview mirror, Nick watched as Katie did what he had once done. He didn’t realize how gruesome it actually was, until at this moment.
George wasted no time getting to her. Blood gushed out from the pretty blonde’s neck at each gnaw. He fought Katie off, matching her anomaly of strength. The woman would live, but not in the typical sense of humanization. Instead, she would have to live the life as a bloodthirsty predator.
Nick’s throat became taut with dryness. Tightened fists on the steering wheel almost held no grasp in stopping him. No, he thought. In his mind, his voice sounded more like his father’s than he expected. Remembering the way his father always deepened his throat after clearing it of any possible obstructions.
George piled Katie up between the two front seats, releasing Nick of his animal urges.
Nick shook his head. “How?”
“What?” they simultaneously said.
“How did you… How were you able to refute your natural urge to munch on that woman too? I would have hit the ground running, going to town, on that bimbo.”
Katie fiddled with the lace frill on the hem of her dress. He wasn’t talking to her, she realized. Ashamed of her actions, her eyes drooped.
“That is the difference between you and I.”
“What is?”
“I don’t kill no one. Even if I have to, unless it is to protect my country, friends, and or relatives.”
“What? You need to eat in order to survive.”
He pursed his lips together, refusing to believe such balderdash from Nick. “I don’t care,” his lip wobbled. “Killing is wrong.”
“Based on your dog tags, there, I will assume you have done much killing in your time.”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean?”
“I… I went AWOL. The murder… It was, was, too much.”
Nick’s eyes gloomed. “Terrorists?”
He hesitated for a brief moment, taking a deep breath in. “Yes… Only, we were the terrorists… We killed more than they ever have. We sold children, and raped women. I never agreed with my fellow unit, but needless to say, I left.”
“Desertion?”
“Yes. Am I proud of what I have done? No. Am I ashamed that I could not stop the violence? Yes. Every day, I replay what happened inside my head. Each time it plays, it gets worse. I’ve tried to just let it go, but my heart won’t let me forget.”
“Where have you been hiding?” Nick’s question came without answer. He peered, out of the corner of his eye. George rubbed his face, stifling his tears. He sat back in his seat, placing his upturned wrist over his eyes. “Well?”
“Nowhere, really. Just laying low for a while.”
“Doing what?” Nick pressed.
“Operations, under covert supervision. Not very good supervision, but it was there. Watching.”
“By who?”
“A man named Boss. That isn’t his real name, though, you know. No one does know it, exactly.”
He approached Foxtail Road, carefully surveying the street for signs of Emily. Parked in front of her house, was a car. Its doors were wide open, and clearly abandoned. His tires screeched as he parked next to it.
On the ground, Emily’s license took place upon the pavement, just beneath the car. He picked it up, gesturing George to follow him inside the house.
He twisted the doorknob with ease. He could sense the house was empty. Her bedroom, untouched, didn’t show any signs of struggle.
George stood next to him, after searching the rest of the house. “Nobody is here.”
Nick’s eyes caught the glimpse of sunrays escaping through her window. Under it, her curtain rod, and curtain, lied over the floor in a pile. “What do you make of this? She never takes these down. She is always worried someone might be peeping on her.”
“She should be worried.” Mayor Daly said.
They swung around in a heartbeat, jumping at the voice that was not one of theirs.
Nick growled at him. “What are you doing here? Where is she, you, sonofabitch?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m just referring to her being worried about someone spying on her.”
“Why?” George said, clicking his tongue.
“Who knows, really?” he smiled. “There are so many creeps in this world, everyone should be skeptical of their surroundings.”
“Look,” Nick said, “I know she was here. Did you see where she went?”
“She was never here. I didn’t see her.”
Nick jumped at him, but George held his arms back. “You’re a liar!” he spat. “All of you crooked bastards are liars!”
George said, with gruff, “Let it go. He won’t tell us nothing.” He allowed Nick to shrug up his arms, and fix his coat.
The mayor circled the room, stopping at the window. He turned, piercing his gaze at them. “You know, I recall seeing her, now. Yeah, yeah. I remember now. But, then, she hopped, willingly, inside some strange man’s car.”
Outside, Katie sat, waiting for them to get back into the car. Then, the car door swung open. Mike pulled her by the arm, yanking, and
twisting, unable to snatch her with ease. He grunted, as she refused. But, he was able to release her from the vehicle. He wrapped his arms around her waist, carrying her towards his vehicle. She screamed, and wailed, catching the attention of Nick, and George.
They bolted out the door, racing towards Mike. Nick looked at George, “Do you consider her to be a family or friend? Because, she needs us. I may kill to eat, but I will kill to defend as well.”
George nodded, stood next to the man, whipping his arms around, and then knocks Mike to the ground. Katie was already inside the jeep. It was yellow, as to not raise any suspicion. Honor roll bumper stickers, and a tiny family of stick figures covered the back.
Nick attempted to unlatch the door. The tires spun, screeching as the sped off.
George punched Mike, several times, in the face. He screamed, “Where did you take her?”
“I don’t know!”
“Tell me!”
“I’m just a delivery boy! I know nothing!”
“What’s your name?”
“Mike. Mike Polanski.”
George’s eyes filled with fiery rage. The grip of his fingers, tightened uncontrollably around the man’s neck. His eyes popped, face turned purple, and he kicked his legs. “Who do you work for? Who?”
“I-I don’t know his real name.”
“Who?”
Mike gasped for air. “Boss.”
George loosened his grip. He didn’t recognize the man before him. It made him wonder how many more are doing what Boss tells them. It made him realize the despotism before everyone.
“I don’t know what he looks like. Nor do I have any influence on his actions. I do what I am told, or he will have me killed.”
“Boy. You best count your lucky stars. I could have snapped your scrawny neck in seconds.”
George treaded towards the jeep. “Nick. Let’s go.”
After they settled into their seats, Nick clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He stifled a dry laugh. “He’s lying. Man, I just know it.”
“Who?”
“The mayor.”
“How can you know that? Sure, he gives off a bad vibe, but that doesn’t mean you should jump to conclusions.”
“Emily is a paranoid woman. Strange men give her anxiety… There was one other thing…”
“What’s that?”
“If someone willingly got into a vehicle, why would you need to emphasize the willingness? Why not just say, ‘she got into a vehicle’?”
George felt, somehow, it would ease his mind from his troubling past. However, he knew the memories would never fade. This time, he promised not to let it happen ever again. No matter the cost. I’ll take the bad ones, as long as I can create at least one good memory to turn to, he thought.
“And what delivery boy doesn’t know their destination?” As a teenager, Nick shared his experience with making deliveries. He didn’t work alone, but knowing where you are supposed to be was step one in working efficiently.
“A bad one.” George shifted into his seat, using his hands as advantage to lift his weight.
Nick chuckled, dropping his gaze towards the center console. George’s fingers bent slowly with motion. They held on by just the encasing of its skin.
“I feel weird,” George’s voice cracked.
“Will you eat anything?”
“No.”
Nick scoffed. “What about an animal?” he joked.
George threw a stern look. “I was a vegetarian before this happened to me.”
“I know of way you can eat, without being a killer. But, we have to head to New Haven.”
“What about Katie? We have to find her. They have done experiments on her at that lab in Meriden, worse than the ones we, the Renegades, ever has done to a person.”
“Wherever they took Emily will probably be the same place they are taking
Katie.”
“You go to New Haven. I’ll look for
Emily and Katie.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now go.”
The mayor left her house, raised his phone to his ear, and pretended not to watch as Nick drove off.
•••
Damned to live another day in this twisted world, Emily never knew existed until now, she began to question of its intentions. Why this is all happening, revved a darkened turmoil deep inside her core. Imagination kept this possibility placed neatly in the back of her mind, but didn’t realize how real it could get. Or, that, it could ever happen.
As a scientist, she knew messing with a human genome is tricky. A highly prolific geneticist may have been able to create this. Yet, not a single person has ever come forward to claim such a title.
She feared what may come, or may happen. Her hope, lost in the blatant shroud of imminent danger, never fully flickered away. It effulged faintly, diminishing immensely.
The only light, bright and radiant enough to jolt her awake, came from the two blinding lamps sitting in front of her and a little girl.
She surveyed the room, noting she found herself in a dank hallway. Barred rails, separated in groups every ten bars, and lined the wall in front of her. Barely conscious, her shifted gaze made out the face of the young girl. Her eyes, blue with a golden ring around the pupil, were cowardice and disconnected. Her chestnut hair flowed inches below her shoulders.
Restraints tied across her chest and arms, bounded her to an old, creaky, chair. Emily went to gasp, grunting at a sharp pain inside her chest cavity. A rope contained her. She twisted her wrists, rubbing them raw. A small squeal of pain remained in the back of throat, but didn’t fail to make a noise.
“Hey, kid, where are we?”
Katie was gone. Physically, she remained, but her mind focused on the dark figure across the room, hidden in the shadow of the far corner. Emily assumed she was dead. Her lifeless color and sunken cheeks suggested a time of death not so long ago.
Darkening edges of fear, razor-sharp, sliced through present being. Emily’s head banged heavily into her clavicle, closed to the visual world she fears will be the last scene she sees. She didn’t realize making memories, for terrible times like these, would have been useful at this moment. She instantly regretted ever agreeing to aide Marcel, and dwelled in the past she could have had.
Lighthearted in certain situations, such as her job change, caused her to grieve more than laugh. She knew where her heart belonged, yet, for a second time, allowed a man to persuade her otherwise.
Reasons, Hank had handed out, defied her logic. He had said, “Being an agent is too smart for you, maybe you should just be a scientist. I can see what I can do.” Then, he left for work.
She shook her head. “Pffft. Can’t believe it. The one thing I remember is the one day I want to forget. Go figure.”
“It’s okay…,” she cooed.
Emily jolted in her spot. “You are alive?”
“…In a sense, yes…” she sighed, “I know what you mean. I keep remembering the day before I was cured. I kept coughing, uncontrollably. The Hospice nurse came to the house, with my mother crying hysterically. The nurse said I didn’t have long. Maybe a week or less.”
“What were you dying from? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“There was tumor, the size of a baseball inside my frontal lobe and nasal cavity. No doctor would touch it. No treatments were successful.”
“But, you’re fine now. How?”
“My dad,” she said exuberated. Then her eyes fell sullen. “He saved me… But, I’ve done horrible things to innocent people. What is happening to me, Emily?”
“H-how do you know my name? You’re a Fledge?”
“Yes, that is what Agent Brinks said to me. She had tests done on me. More injections. And, I know your name because your friends are looking for you.”
“Friends? Who? Marcel?”
“No… Nick and a darker man named George.”
“I don’t know a George.”
“Agent Brinks does
.”
“Where is Brinks? Do you know?”
“Yes,” she pointed her nose up to the dark figure across the room. “Right there.”
Brinks revealed her face in the light. She smiled thinly, clapping her hands three times slowly. “Good job. I knew that night vision injection would work.”
“Let us go!” Emily said.
“And why should I do that? I need you, just like you need me.”
“I don’t need you.”
Brinks cackled, reaching behind Emily. The smell of her perfume made her gag. The pungent mix of orange and rose blossom sent a scurvy trail up Emily’s nose.
When Brinks pulled back, she held a box tightly in her fingers. The light reflected off its golden exterior.
“That’s mine! Give it back, you bitch!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now, is that a way to talk to someone who holds your dearest, most protective, secret?”
Boiling with rage, Emily bit her tongue. She may regret her past, but because of her forced trauma, she never wanted to rid of the proving existence of her daughter.
“Good, I have your attention,” Brinks chided, almost chirpy with delight.
“Yes. Uninvited, I may add.”
“Nevertheless, you are close to Doctor Johnston. Are you not?”
“In a way. What do you want?”
“To work for me.”
“Never! I am no monster like you.”
“Really? Is that so? Your friend, Calista, —stupid name by the way—, and I have more in common than you think. So, in a sense, you are calling her a monster as well.”
“What?”
“Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that I am a Fledge? Have been for over a hundred years.”
“Whatever… What do you want?”
“For you to stop Marcel from having any further involvement in this project.”
“Why? Are you afraid he will find a cure? You want me to kill him! That’s it, huh?”
“There is no cure. Look, if you don’t stop him, I will. And he will die! You want to save his life, and then do as I say. And after I’m done with you, I will return this box without hassle. However, if you fail me, Nick will learn your little truth.”
“I don’t care. I wanted to tell him anyhow.”
“Fine,” Brinks sighed, shifting across the room. “I thought you’d might say that. So, I have another proposal. Not only will Marcel and your daughter survive, if you stop him, and follow my commands, but I will tell you where your daughter lives and return your memory box.”
