They all sat quietly until he finished the chocolate. He crumpled the wrapper in his fist and lay back down on the cot.
The hermit scooped Laylea into his lap and Jay emptied his canteen while Clark wove the clasp into his cord and tied it off. He hooked the bracelet back around his wrist. The kid turned on his side and curled up. After a moment he shut his eyes and whispered. “Tie me up with your orange rope. I don’t want to kill you.”
Laylea and the men looked at Clark. Jay held out his hand.
Clark turned his back on the kid. He whispered, “We have other rope.”
“Kid said orange. He believes the orange rope will hold him. Right?” Jay looked to Laylea and the hermit for confirmation. They both nodded. “It’s a mental thing, Captain. Give me the cord.”
“I just finished weaving it.”
Jay wiggled his fingers. A giggle twitched the corner of his mouth.
Clark pulled the bracelet off and undid his work. He and Jay worked it around the kid and the cot.
When they were done, Jay put a hand on his head. “You’re safe now.”
“You’re safe now.” The kid replied.
The nameless one covered the kid with a couple blankets and the trio of CFs stepped over to the fire.
Clark shook his head. “He’s a mess.”
“The doc taught me how to reboot subjects altered through her methods. This is butchery.” Jay recalled that the nameless CF was one of the newer subjects. “Sorry.”
“We adapt.” St. Nick shrugged.
“I’ll leave at first light. See if the doc can help.” Clark noticed the bowls of stew. He offered one to Jay.
Jay took it and shoveled down three spoonfuls before responding. “I can’t set the radio up this close to….” He looked east and interrupted himself. “I’ll have to reboot him at least enough so that he’s mobile.”
“He can walk.” Clark set his cold stew aside.
“I need to trust he won’t run off.”
“Can’t you just carry him?” Clark took Laylea from the hermit and held her close to the fire.
“I’m gonna want to cut his tracker out here.”
All three men reached for the scar on their backs.
Clark realized, “The Consortium will notice when his signal shuts down.”
Jay added, “And come a-running to the spot it last transmitted from.”
Clark explained to Laylea, “And Jay’s too weak to carry him and move quickly.”
Jay warmed his hands in Laylea’s fur. “Jay’s ready to go anytime your daddy wants to try him.”
The nameless CF spoke up. “I have a sled. We can pull him.”
Jay spun around. “You can’t go with me.”
“I can help.”
Clark stepped between them. “It’s not safe. He’s still conditioned. You’re barely unconditioned.”
“I don’t care. You got me away from the Consortium. You freed my mind. But what do I do with my freedom? I hide. I need to help this kid. I don’t care if it’s dangerous.”
Jay stopped him. “Not your safety Captain’s worried about. Mine.” He looked at the lost man sadly. “You’re still more Two Eight Four than a person.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Laylea barked at the same time that Clark suggested, “Pick a name.”
“What?”
“Captain,” Jay warned.
The hermit shook his head. “I can’t give up on finding who I was.”
“Deciding to have a future is not the same as giving up the past.” Clark sat. He traced Laylea’s name in the dirt as they used to do when she was learning to write. He still couldn’t get past the L. “Captain isn’t my name. And what I’m called at home isn’t the name I was born with. But they’re names that I’ve chosen for myself since I choose to live despite what was done to me.” He looked up at the hermit. “I get that you think a new name will push your old identity further into the mist. But Jay sees it as you not wanting to give up Two Eight Four.”
The hermit sat. “What does the doc say?”
“She says you’re an individual. Just like everybody else.”
The men laughed. Laylea took the opportunity to wriggle out of Clark’s arms. She sat on the nameless CF’s foot, leaning into him.
“Between us,” Clark picked up his stew, “she wonders if the crazy is worse for Hardknock because he remembers his name.”
Jay hunkered down. “Never considered that.”
“Yeah. She says she’s angrier than I am cuz she can remember her life before. She knows what the Consortium took from her.” He took a few bites. “She’s feeling pressure to live up to her name.”
“Doc?” The hermit asked.
“Her other name. The one Jay gave her.”
The hermit tossed teddy lizard to Jay. “How did you pick your name?”
“I didn’t.” Jay tried to scoop Laylea into his arms when she came after her lizard. “First initial J. Last name Doe. That’s why I’d never pressure you to pick one.”
“But he would feel safer if you did.”
“And you, Captain?” he asked. “Was that your rank?”
“No, I don’t remember having any rank. That’s my woods name cuz I fly. Doc gave me my home name based on what I wanted to be. I was a little unrealistic in what kind of job a person with no social security number could hold. But it’s a good name.”
“And you do run a store, in a way,” Jay pointed out as he dragged Laylea around on the ground. She’d gone boneless when growling and tugging hadn’t won her the toy.
“I do.” Clark smiled. “I do, don’t I?”
“Gandhi.”
Jay and Clark looked at the no-longer nameless man. Laylea seized Jay’s inattention and ran with teddy to tumble into Gandhi’s lap.
“My name will be Gandhi Elgee.”
Jay held out a hand. Gandhi shook it.
“Let’s go look at some maps and make a plan. I’ll teach you what I can and when the doc comes, she might teach you more.”
“Nice to meet you Gandhi. LG is honored.”
The little fawn dog showed her approval by licking her name-buddy’s ear. She kept doing it as he picked up her teddy lizard and carried them both back to the triangle of tents.
Gandhi took first watch. Four hours later he was asleep in his tent as Clark and Laylea took over from Jay. Laylea scratched at the nylon hoping Clark would let her crawl in and sleep with him, but instead he set her to watch Snickers boy while he rolled up their tent. The boy looked harmless except for the orange rope that should be on the dad’s wrist. Still she sat out of the boy’s line of sight in case he freaked out again.
After he packed up the hotel, Clark refilled all the canteens and Gandhi’s camelback with fresh water filtered from the creek nearby. He set one by the boy’s head and another by each tent. He filled Laylea’s collapsible water bowl and sat with her drinking from the fourth, petting her as she drank her fill. They cuddled for a wonderful while until Laylea fell asleep in his lap. She dropped immediately into a dream of running after the Rick’s cat. She kicked at the dad, her muffled barks making him smile even as he thought about how many good people the Consortium had broken.
He liked his life. He liked living simply with Sher and Bailey and Woodford and yes, his odd daughter. But Bailey would be graduating soon and leaving for one of the seven schools that had accepted him. Maybe it was time to stop the conditioning. Time for him and Sher to finish what she started with Jay and shut down the Consortium for good. How, he had no idea. In fact, it seemed impossible.
Laylea yawned and stretched. She rolled to her back and slept with all her paws dangling out, belly to the sky, completely trusting that Clark would keep her safe. He chuckled and rubbed her chest. Impossible. This little girl was impossible. She could read and write and think and she changed the meaning of impossible. If a dog could do all that, maybe an amnesiac ex-killer and a mad scientist cum veterinarian could change the world a littl
e. He and Sher even had thumbs.
Laylea woke. She stood on his chest, stretching. Then she got up and trotted off to the woods for a pee. Clark stood, stretched himself, and when Laylea came back he told her to watch the camp while he prepped the plane.
“Holler for me if the boy wakes and needs anything.”
Laylea nodded and sat again out of the boy’s line of sight. Clark brought the camp stove over from the plane and set it up. He filled a pot with water and set it over the flames. Laylea kept an eye on the fire and the boy as Clark went back to the plane.
Jay and Gandhi both woke as the sun rose, spreading a soft light over the camp. They each greeted Laylea and checked on the boy. Gandhi returned from a trip to the trees to sit by the boy. Jay went to the plane to confer with Clark.
When the boy woke, he panicked for a moment but quickly remembered that he had been tied to his cot and stopped struggling to sit up. Gandhi released the ropes. He helped the boy to sit up and massaged his arms where the cord had left marks. They stood and walked slowly off to the pit in the woods, the older man supporting the boy. Laylea got up and followed at a distance, not trusting Snickers. He said he was supposed to kill them all.
He didn’t kill Gandhi in the woods. The three returned to find Jay and Clark making coffee and eggs. Snickers wouldn’t go near Clark. He sat on the far end of the cot where Jay knelt in front of him and attached a blue nylon rope to one ankle.
“I’m sorry about this kid. How do you feel about killing us this morning?”
“My head aches.”
Jay put a hand on the boy’s exposed calf and lowered his tone, “Your head will ache every time you think of violence.”
“I don’t want to hurt.”
“Don’t kill us. You’ll feel better.” He returned to a conversational tone. “We’re just gonna keep a leash on you for a little bit so you don’t run off home and report on us. It’s not so bad. Right, LG?”
Laylea met the kid’s eyes as Jay took out his lighter and melted the nylon knot. She could see how tiny his pupils were, unnaturally small in the brightness of morning. He smelled scared. She tried rolling around and clowning to distract him but her heart wasn’t in it. She was scared too.
The men packed away their tents and cleared some items from Gandhi’s sled to give more room if they needed to tie the boy on it. Meanwhile the boy helped Clark fold up the cot. Throughout the morning, Jay and Clark used Sher’s techniques to bring out the kid’s humanity, to reach his feelings and condition his behaviors. Gandhi asked him questions as they worked and when they sat for breakfast. The kid had few answers. Laylea thought he might cry as he shoveled the scrambled eggs into his mouth. She kept a wary eye on him.
When Clark stood to leave, Laylea leaped to his side. Jay had pulled a first aid kit out of his packs and was wiping his knife blade with an alcohol swab. He paused to give Clark a one armed hug. Laylea got a nod. She trotted over to Gandhi and tagged his ankle. He gave her one long pat from ears to tail. Then she stepped over to the boy sitting beside Gandhi. She climbed carefully into his crossed legs lap and stood up on his chest. When she couldn’t catch his eye, she barked once. He looked down. She licked his nose.
Then she leaped awkwardly from his lap and limped away to fly home.
“We’ll extract the tracker after you take off then leave the area double-time.” Jay escorted Clark to the plane. Gandhi followed.
“I’ll be on the HAM at the usual times but if I haven’t heard from you by Tuesday, we’ll come out and check the message tree.”
“Tuesday.”
“Yes,” Clark confirmed.
“Captain.” Jay looked over his shoulder at Gandhi who grinned back. “What day is it today?”
Clark flushed. “Saturday.” He took a breath, turning his face away from the CF as he lifted Laylea into the cockpit. “If we haven’t heard from you, we’ll meet you four noons from now.”
Jay had seen the moment of anger. He put a hand on Clark’s arm as if conditioning him, his voice naturally low with emotion. “I’d rather be here than killing people’s brothers. Your wife broke us. But then she saved us and I will forever be grateful to both of you, my friend.”
Clark faced him. “Someday it will be time to do more.”
“Thoughts become words,” Gandhi murmured. “Words become actions.”
Jay nodded. “Someday.”
Clark strapped Laylea into her ginger scented bed. He crumpled the top sheet of the pad where she’d written kid has a mom.
“In the meantime, we can look for his mother.”
A small hope lit the CF’s faces. Then the men returned to the boy as Clark and Laylea took off into the wide blue.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Before the plane had lifted from the dirt runway, Jay knelt by Snickers explaining what he was going to do. He helped the kid remove his coat and shirts. The boy’s chest glowed white. His skin looked so different on either side of the harsh line between tan and pale Jay wondered if the Consortium had been practicing skin grafting on him for some reason. Even with a six-pack, the pale chest made Jay offer the kid a blanket to hold against himself while he made the cut. Snickers turned him down.
This would be Jay’s seventeenth extraction since the doc had talked him through taking out her own tracker. He never liked the cutting and the blood made him nauseas. But he knew it would keep the Consortium from finding the kid and taking him back in. They wouldn’t be able to mess around in his brain anymore.
Maybe the kid had volunteered. Jay wondered if they weren’t all volunteers, running from pasts that were worse than having no past at all. But the doctor had assured him that whatever he had volunteered for had not included all the things she had done to him. She’d done some research before demolishing the lab and she knew enough to know that no one knew everything, except maybe Trask. She was told that Jay had volunteered for his treatments with a full understanding of what was being done to him. But on her brother’s advice she’d talked to Jay, awake and under hypnosis. She’d discovered he didn’t have any idea what was really going on.
That’s how the whole coup had started. That was when she had rebooted him and together they began their capture and release of Trask’s Conditioned Forces. This boy would be their eighteenth rescue. The eighteenth victim. It would be nice if Clark could find the kid’s mother. Unless the Consortium had killed her when they acquired her son as a volunteer.
Jay shook his head clear. He had to focus on the patient in front of him and put the countless other CF still lost out of his mind. He asked Gandhi to keep the boy calm while he worked. Then he wiped the skin clean with an alcohol swab and slipped the knifepoint into the kid’s back just under the scar between his shoulder blades. The boy jumped. Jay paused until he was still then felt for the tiny capsule-like transmitter. With a twist of his wrist, he hooked the tip of the knife behind the electrical device and flicked it out.
Normally this was the easiest part of the process, cleaning the wound, bandaging it, and then showing the implant to the patient as proof. It had always been an eye-opening moment for the rescued CF.
Not this time.
As the transmitter popped out, Jay barely had time to notice that it trailed several wires thin as spider’s webbing. The transmitter dangled from the kid’s back by these wires. Jay leaned in to cut them. Before he could, the flash of a tiny explosion momentarily blinded him. In the same instant the kid sprung to his feet, a fist speeding at Jay’s head. Gandhi moved faster. He hit the kid in the side of the neck, paralyzing the boy for a moment with a direct strike to the vagus nerve. With the kid already falling, Gandhi guided him face down to the ground. The kid struck out when he regained muscle control but the old hermit took the wrist and yanked him forward to stretch him out to his full length. He pinioned the kid to the ground by twisting an arm behind him.
“Calm.” Gandhi tapped on the kid’s wrist with his thumb to show how easily he had him pinned.
Blinking against the flashes
still sparking in his vision, Jay scrambled through the grass to the kid’s back. The implant was slightly larger than any previous one and still connected to the boy via monofilament wires.
“What are these?”
“Take it out!” The boy screamed, tears turning the dirt beneath his cheek to mud.
Jay considered the blood and mucus surrounding the wires. He glanced up at Gandhi. The older man nodded and put a foot on Snicker’s back to hold him down while Jay took a firm grip on the tiny tech. He held it as far away from the body as the wires would stretch and shut his eyes before he sliced them. A second small burst of light flashed.
Jay flipped his knife around and shoved the handle in between the teeth of the boy who’d begun convulsing beneath him. Gandhi dropped the boy’s arm. He fell to his knees as he pulled the bandana from his head. Wrapping the cloth around a hand, he maneuvered the boy’s head into his lap and used the protected hand to take the knife blade from Jay. Jay turned the boy’s body onto its side, scanning the ground for sharp rocks or anything that could hurt Snickers if he hit it. Then they waited for the seizure to pass.
In moments, the body stopped convulsing and the boy started vomiting. He kept vomiting long after everything Gandhi and Jay had seen him eat had come up. When it became clear that he was heaving up only his own bile and showed no signs of stopping, Gandhi sat the boy up a bit and Jay, following Clark’s example, punched him in the diaphragm. The muscle responded to the injury by relaxing. The kid didn’t.
He cried over and over, “Please. Please.”
Jay wiped the tears away, bending close with both hands on the boy’s face, his elbows on his chest. “I took it out. You’re safe now.”
The boy altered his wailing refrain. “No. No. No. No. No.”
“Why do you think you’re in danger?”
“YOU!” he screamed. “You’re in danger. I was a camera. Everything I saw. Everything I heard. They said if it ever came out my body would be the transmitter to send it all to HQ.” He curled into the fetal position, his tears turning into hiccups as the confession allowed his mind to calm.
WereHuman - The Witch's Daughter: Consortium Battle book 1 (Wyrdos) Page 27
