Grim Judgment

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Grim Judgment Page 18

by Jennifer Reinfried


  “No!”

  “Shawn—”

  “You can’t leave me alone.” I felt his small hands gripping my biceps in a painful clench. Even this young, he was so strong, strong enough to hurt me if he didn’t let go soon. More screams sounded outside of the room.

  “Please,” the boy pleaded. His brown eyes were wide, staring at me with a desperation that nearly sliced my heart in two.

  “Okay,” I said. “Okay, but stay right behind me. Don’t leave my side, got it?”

  Shawn swallowed, then nodded. I stood, grateful at the relief in my arms as he released them.

  Turning, I started toward the outcries, heart still pounding. I felt Shawn’s small hand slip into mine.

  We halted suddenly as a howling noise sounded. Adrenaline shot through my stomach, making the hairs of my arms stand on end.

  “Bruce...” Shawn sounded distant at my side, his voice barely rising above the sounds coming from the smaller lab that lay at the end of the hallway.

  “It’s okay,” I said. I tried to sound comforting, tried to keep the screams from getting to me, tried to ignore the other, unnatural sounds, but it wasn’t easy. “It’s going away. Hear that?”

  I wasn’t lying. The howling was fading, and fast.

  “Let’s go back.” Shawn tugged on my hand, but gently. For a moment, I considered, but then I heard someone crying out.

  “Help...” It sounded like June. It sounded like her voice. Everything that she’d put me through over the years, the cheating, the lies, the endless experiments on our own son, all of it made me hesitate, regardless of the pain I heard in that voice. But whether it was June or someone else, I couldn’t just let the woman suffer. I looked down at Shawn, who stared up at me with terrified eyes.

  “I need you to be brave, and do exactly what I tell you to, okay?” I asked.

  He nodded slowly. We faced forward and hurried the rest of the way down the hall until it opened into a large white room full of long tables. I’d always hated how sterile the area looked. Now, the pristine walls, the floor, and even the ceiling were streaked with glaring red blood.

  In the middle of the room lay June, pretty face torn, clothes shredded and crimson. I felt time slow as I shoved Shawn back against the wall and yelled at him not to move, then shot toward my wife. A few other people were running through the lab, but I ignored them as June’s eyes focused on mine.

  “Bruce...”

  “Hey,” I said quietly. “I’m here.”

  She reached a bloody hand toward my face. I realized with horror her skin had been peeled away in patches. I shied back from her touch, and she closed her eyes with a soft sigh.

  “What happened? June, what’s going on?”

  She didn’t answer. I shook her, and her eyes opened, but they were foggy and distant. My brain picked up someone screaming Shawn’s name, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything else right then. I looked down June’s body then, and realized why her clothes were so dark: her stomach had been clawed open. Blood had soaked through her shirt and lab coat, and pooled underneath her on the tile floor. I raised a hand to my mouth and dry heaved at the sight.

  “Bruce?” She was saying my name, but not looking at me.

  “June, I...”

  “Our Synth. It was Jaxon. Kill him. You need to kill him.”

  I stared down at her in horror. “What the fuck?”

  “Kill him.”

  I stood and backed away from her as she died on the floor. I looked around for Shawn and saw him huddled on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees, with Laura next to him. I felt relief seeing his maker “mother” there, watching her pull him to his feet. I looked back at June one last time as Laura yelled at Shawn to hurry. I turned to follow them, and froze.

  A large oblong blob now hung in the air between me and them, dark and undulating. It looked like a dense fog. I couldn’t make Shawn and Laura out, could only hear them.

  “We have to get out of here!” she was saying. I stared in wonder at the ever changing form in front of me. It almost looked like...

  “We need to get—” Too late, I realized there was a figure in the mist. I could make out a head, shoulders, and arms that ended in long clawed fingers. I tore my gaze away from it as it reached forward and grabbed Laura, halting her sentence and changing it to a gurgle. Shawn screamed as he looked up at her, began to back away.

  I didn’t know what to do. What could I do? Behind me, past June, there was another way out of the lab, but I couldn’t just leave Shawn. I stood in place, fear dripping through my insides. I saw the boy back away as a wind picked up around Laura, who still choked in the creature’s grasp. I couldn’t see what was happening to her, but the look on Shawn’s face told me enough. He opened his mouth in a soundless scream, then turned and bolted back the way we had come. I surged forward, following him. A quick glance over my shoulder as I passed the figure in the mist showed me more horrors at once than I’d seen in my entire lifetime, and I pumped my legs faster than I thought they could ever go.

  “Shawn!” I screamed after the boy, but he didn’t stop. His body had been designed to be stronger, faster, more flexible than any other human’s, and he tore down the hallway. He turned out of sight before I even made it past the room we had occupied earlier.

  As I neared the end, the boy reappeared. He was slowly backing away from something I couldn’t see, horror locked on his face. I screamed his name again and closed the distance between us.

  My own son, my Jaxon, was hovering two feet off the floor a few yards away, his jaw open wide, his eyes pure white. The same mist I had seen surrounding Laura pulsated around him. It almost seemed as if it was reveling in his presence, as if he were controlling it, or it controlling him. I shoved Shawn behind me just as faces began to appear in the fog, their eyeless sockets trained on me. The howling we’d heard earlier started up again, all around us. I began to shake.

  “Jax...” I strained to say, the word falling from my lips in a weak trickle.

  My son didn’t show any inclination that he’d heard me. Instead, he continued to advance on us as we backed away. The figures came forward, passing him, reaching out with their clawed fingers. Jaxon’s lips stretched into a horrific smile.

  “Jaxon!” Shawn screamed.

  It wasn’t enough to stop him, but my son faltered. His grin melted, and his face scrunched up, as if he was confused.

  “Jaxon, please!” Shawn yelled again. Suddenly, he stumbled over his own feet as we backed away, and fell. I turned to see the back of his head slam against the hard tile floor. He gasped, crying out in pain.

  The howling stopped abruptly, and Jaxon’s eyes returned to normal in a fraction of a second. His body dropped to the floor, feet barely making a noise. Shock was plastered on his face, as if he didn’t understand how he’d gotten where he was.

  “Shawn?” Jaxon moved forward, past me as if I wasn’t even there, and knelt by his friend. “Hey...I’m sorry, I didn’t... Are you okay? I don’t...” He pushed his fingertips into his temples as he questioned Shawn, who shrank away from him, one hand holding the back of his skull, eyes still wide with fright, but staring at a fixed point beyond my son.

  “Bruce!” Shawn yelled.

  His voice pulled me out of my daze, and I sank to the floor next to the boys. “That was a nasty fall, buddy,” I said as I pulled Shawn into a sitting position, warily watching Jaxon, who simply looked concerned and miserable at the same time.

  “You okay, Shawn?”

  “Yeah, I’ll live. But...my eyes. Something’s wrong, Bruce. I hit my head and now I can barely see at all.”

  My heart dropped and I felt my throat close slightly. “It’s okay. We’ll get you fixed up.”

  “Bruce!” I heard Duncan running toward us before I looked up at him. The man’s coat was streaked with blood, but he seemed unhurt. He came to a sharp halt as his eyes fell on Jaxon, and he continued the rest of the way forward at a cautious walk.

  “Is Shawn all right
?” he asked as he came up next to us and knelt down, a fair distance away from my son, eyes locked on him.

  “He’s okay.” My fingers traveled over the back of the boy’s head. “He’ll have a nasty headache, maybe a knot for an hour or so, but it’s his eyes that are worrying me.” I glanced at Duncan, and watched him realize what I meant.

  “Shawn?” he said, and turned to address the boy. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

  “When I hit my head, I stopped being able to see.” Shawn was on the brink of tears.

  “Okay,” Duncan looked at me, then shot a glance at Jaxon. “Okay. Let’s get you up.” He stood, and we helped Shawn to his feet.

  “Mind telling me what the hell just happened?” I muttered toward Duncan, but he simply shook his head.

  “Our medics are already helping people,” he said.

  My mind fluttered to June, but I forced the thought away.

  “But we have to get out of here, fast.” Duncan looked at Jaxon, fully this time. “However...”

  I wasn’t stupid, I knew Jaxon had been responsible for the massacre. I had a sinking feeling Duncan was considering leaving my son behind, and I grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around roughly.

  “Wipe him,” I snarled, suddenly terrified I was never going to see my only kid again.

  “Bruce, we don’t have time—”

  “Now. Wipe him.”

  Duncan looked at me with his stupid friendly eyes, his moustache moving as his mouth shifted into a determined line.

  I took a deep breath to still my anger and said, “Please.”

  His eyes shifted, and I knew I had him. He nodded once and turned, walking away without checking to see if we were following. I took Shawn’s hand with one of mine and Jaxon’s with the other. We followed Duncan.

  Moments later we reached the large, dim room where we performed memory wipes on the kids. I quietly shut the door behind me and the four of us were shrouded in near darkness. The only light shone from the two big machines in the middle of the room. My son’s breathing quickened, and I crouched next to him.

  “Jaxon,” I said. His eyes were large, and he had begun to tremble.

  “Not again, please not again.” He pleaded as he tried to squirm out of my grasp.

  “Only one more time, okay?”

  He shook his head, then started to push against my chest.

  “Jaxon, please.”

  Duncan was setting up the machines as quickly as possible as I attempted to sway my son.

  “No. No!”

  A soft rattling started. Duncan inhaled sharply and looked over at us. Jaxon’s shaking worsened, and he moved his hands from my sternum to the sides of his head, pressing against it with his palms.

  “Shit,” I muttered softly.

  “Come on, Jax,” Shawn said suddenly. I looked up at him. Despite his sudden blindness, despite the horrors he’d witnessed that night, despite the fact that his best friend had been responsible for his “mother’s” death, the boy took on a crooked smile and felt his way over to one of the beds. He pulled himself up easily, then swung his legs along the hard surface. It was in that moment I realized I loved the kid just as much as I did my own son.

  Shawn kept his face pointed in Jaxon’s direction. “Get up here, man,” he said. “It won’t be that bad.”

  I looked back at Jaxon who was staring at his friend.

  “I don’t wanna.”

  “Come on, stop being a pussy.”

  I started. How the fuck did he learn that word?

  Jaxon gaped at his friend, who lay back on the narrow table. “Commence the wipe, oh great and wise Duncan,” he said with a salute.

  I felt my son’s body relax, and he laughed.

  “Bet I can do it before you can,” Shawn taunted.

  “No, you can’t.” Jaxon took a couple steps toward the machines.

  “Yep. Duncan, hurry it up.”

  “Oh...” the man said, catching on. “Yeah. Yes. Shawn, you’re right, you’re totally going to win.” He started punching buttons on the boy’s machine.

  “Hey, knock it off. Fine, I’ll do it.” Jaxon climbed on the empty bed of the other machine and quickly took on the same position his friend was in. They were only a few feet apart, and Shawn turned to his left and grinned in Jaxon’s direction.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said in confident tones. “We both will.”

  “I know, asshole.”

  I opened my mouth to scold the boy, then stopped myself. Instead, I smiled. I watched as the headpieces were raised along their heads, and heard Jaxon gasp. His breathing increased and his hands began to flail, but Shawn came to the rescue again as he reached out and gripped my son’s hand and held it.

  “I thought they weren’t supposed to remember the wipes,” I muttered to Duncan as I stepped next to him, the boys silent as the wipe commenced.

  “They aren’t. They shouldn’t.” He looked at me. “I think he just figured out what we meant and went with it.”

  I stared down at Shawn, his eyes now closed as the machine did its thing. “Why would he want to?”

  Duncan looked at me, his gaze sad and troubled. “Don’t you want to forget what you saw tonight?”

  We stood in silence for a moment longer, the hum of the machines quiet in the room’s stillness. Then I spoke. “I’m taking my son away from here.”

  He turned and looked at me. I couldn’t read his expression in the low lights.

  “I’m taking him away,” I said again. “Far fucking away, and I never want you or any of your people near him again. Do you understand?” I hadn’t realized right away how menacing my voice had gotten. It was nice and low, and it did the job. Duncan nodded tiredly, averting his eyes. We stared at the boys, holding hands.

  After a moment, I added, “Shawn, too.”

  “Honestly, I think that’s best, Bruce. The agency is going to be coming as soon as they hear what happened tonight. I think we all need to get far away from here.” He crossed his arms as I stared at him.

  “Wait, what?” I asked stupidly.

  “These tests, these experiments...” He looked at me. “They’re just kids.”

  “Yeah. They are.”

  Another few moments of quiet.

  “We need to round up any survivors. Most of the kids were all locked in their bunks, so they should be safe,” Duncan said softly. He looked up at me. “Do you know how to run these?” He gestured at the machines, and I shook my head. “The longer I stand here, the less time the other kids might have.” New urgency sounded in his voice.

  “What do I do?” I asked.

  “The machines will wind down. When this light glows blue.” He pointed. “Push this button and only this button on both. That will stop the process. Soon after, the head shields will lower and they’ll wake up. Bruce.” He lowered his head slightly, still looking at me. “They’re going to be very confused. I set the wipe far, far back. I had to make sure Jaxon didn’t remember anything about his power. We can’t risk having him use it ever again. Got it?”

  “Wait, how far back did you go?” I demanded.

  “Far.” Duncan started to walk toward the door.

  “Thank you,” I said to him. He nodded once, then turned and disappeared from my life.

  Moments later, the machines whirred and quieted, just as he said they would. I pushed the button Duncan told me to on both, and waited. And waited. Neither boy stirred. I frowned. Minutes crawled by. I started to consider shaking one of them when a loud yelling sounded from outside. Startled, I shot through the door, shutting Shawn and Jaxon in the room behind me.

  I moved along the short hallway, but all was still. What I had heard earlier was gone, and the building was quiet once again. I waited a full minute longer. When I still heard nothing, I turned back to the room with the boys, but a strangled cry from inside froze my blood. I whipped open the door to find a very confused Jaxon and befuddled Shawn huddled on the floor of the dark room, clutching each other.

/>   “It’s okay,” I murmured, cursing myself for leaving their side even for a moment. I knelt down by them on the floor. Shawn didn’t look at me - of course, he couldn’t see me - but Jaxon shied away behind his friend.

  “Who are you?” he asked, and my heart dropped. Duncan truly had gone far back.

  “My name is Bruce,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’m your dad, Jax.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  NOW

  2016

  Grant strode down a short hallway a few paces behind Vance. They entered the common area, where the Head of Finance sat on one of the plush couches. A bulging black bag rested on the cushion next to him. Bruce smiled as his boss entered and stood, arm outstretched.

  “Fully packed?” Vance asked as they shook.

  “I am. I appreciate this, sir.”

  “Just as I appreciate what you’re doing. I am hoping that you will get back to me with the news that Jaxon is under control.”

  Bruce nodded, but looked concerned. “As do I.”

  Grant cleared his throat and stepped forward, the cop in him already forming questions. “You’re sure you can get a hold of this friend of yours? The one that knows how to wipe memories?”

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure I know where to find him. He may have stayed in hiding for the last seventeen years or so, but he’s a predictable man.”

  “Reliable? Trustworthy?”

  “Definitely. Duncan and I were very close.”

  “Seventeen years ago.” Vance interjected with a raised eyebrow.

  “I know, sir. But it’s still worth it to try and ensure everyone’s safety, including both of my sons.”

  Vance nodded, then frowned. “Bruce, sit.” He lowered himself onto the couch next to his Head of Finance. “I need to be honest with you.”

  Bruce stayed quiet.

  “Grant has orders to take Jaxon out, as does Isaac and the rest of my people. I want you to know that this is only if they are attacked. I do not want you to think that I want your son killed, but if it comes down to my people or him, or even me and him, he will not survive.”

  Man, he’s a good liar. Grant shifted his feet.

 

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