by Gayle Katz
“You’re disgusting!”
“No. It’s science. Using gene editing, we can change even the most basic features about someone. We can change their gender, skin tone, and almost anything else about a person. Genes tell the rest of the body how to act, what to look like, and more. When you tinker with them, you can change them, and thus change the person’s characteristics. And all you need is a sample of their blood, hair, or dead skin cells.”
“And their permission?”
“I guess, but nah, it’s not a requirement. Ha! Ha!”
“Where are your morals? You’ll pay for all of the horrible things you’ve done. I promise you that.”
“That’s nice, but right now, I’m holding all the cards. You’ve got nothing.”
“That’ll change.”
“Even if it does, how will you even find me? With the advances I’m making in genetic editing, you might not even recognize me,” he laughs in my face.
His arrogance infuriates me. “It doesn’t matter whose face you steal, I’m patient. And if it takes the rest of my life, I’ll get you. You might have the upper hand now, but you won’t win. You won’t,” I say.
“Not if I get you first.”
Just as Malik finishes threatening me, I hear the sound of the sliding glass door open behind me. Turning around, I see Ben and Brie enter the lab.
“What are you doing here?” Ben asks.
“I could ask the same of you. What are you doing here? Are you following me?”
“You need your rest.”
“Screw sleep. You’re following me when you really should be following him,” I say, pointing at Malik. “He’s obsessed with power. He’s turning the cure into a weapon. He’s betraying you and everything you hope to accomplish. He doesn’t care about helping people heal.”
“Maybe she’s having a reaction to the cure? Paranoia, maybe?” Brie says, getting closer to me.
“If I’m having a reaction to the cure, it’s only that I’m telling the truth.” I step away from her and walk toward Ben. “I didn’t tell you before, but I saw her together with Malik the other night.”
“What? Of course you did, they work together.”
“No. I mean they were hot and heavy right on this exam table.” I slam my hand on the shiny metal.
“T-That’s not true,” Brie shouts.
“Yes. Yes, it is. I saw you.”
“Is this true, Brie?” Ben asks.
“It’s not. She’s lying.”
“I’m lying? You’ve got video cameras all over this place. Check the tape, and if it’s not there, they erased it.”
“Malik, is this true?” Ben asks.
Malik remains quiet and stares at me.
“OK. I’ve had enough,” Ben says. “It’s been a long day. We’re all stressed out, saying crazy things, not banging on all cylinders. Everyone go back to your corners. We’ll pick this up in the morning.”
***
Exhausted, I stomp out of the lab and head back to the Professor’s couch.
Trying to release the anger building up inside of me, I decide to make a detour and visit with my clone I spoke with earlier. I open the door to the lab and there she is, sitting quietly on the bench.
“Hey there,” I say, walking up to her jail cell. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Nah. The only thing you could possibly interrupt are my thoughts, but if I’m your clone, I guess those are yours.”
“Believe me. I have enough thoughts for both of us. If you’d like to borrow them, feel free.”
“I’ve been thinking about Jack. I guess I’ve never met him, but I still miss him. Is that weird? He’s my-er-your-our husband, right?”
“Yeah. It’s not weird at all. He’s real all right and I miss him, too.”
“I’m never going to see him, am I?”
“I don’t know what the future holds, but you have to have hope.”
“Hope for what? A life? All I know is your life. I’m just a copy of you.”
“Right now maybe, but after this whole mess is over, you can make a real life for yourself and do whatever you want to do.”
Chapter 11
________________________________________
My eyes open. I’m back on the couch. I can see long, thin strips of light pour through the narrow office window so it’s morning, but I don’t know the time. I scramble to my feet, exit the office, and make a quick pitstop in the bathroom.
Closing the toilet stall door behind me, I head back to the hallway, but I catch a glimpse of myself in the large bathroom mirror and stop. I walk closer and notice the bandage from the zombie bite on my neck is gone and so is the bite mark. There’s nothing left. No scabbing. No scar. No nothing. I can’t believe it. It’s completely healed and in such a short period of time.
Unable to believe what my eyes are seeing, I table this conundrum and run down to the lab. The sliding glass door entrance opens.
”Ben! Look at my neck! The bite mark is completely gone.”
“That’s amazing. The cure works.”
“But how is that possible? Not even a mark? What did you do to me?”
“I guess we gave you the gift of healing. Every medication has short term and long term side-effects that vary and change depending on someone’s body chemistry, OK? And I’ve always been fascinated by your genetic makeup and now you know why. Your genes adapt no matter what. That’s why we needed you for the cure. It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m a regular melting pot. Say, what’s the verdict on the Jane clones? Are they cured?” I ask.
“We were just about to go and observe,” the Professor says.
“Hey! Why didn’t anyone come and get me?”
“Last night you were a little… out of sorts. We thought you might need some extra time to rest.”
“I’m fine. I want to be here. I have to be here.”
As we walk down the hallway to check on the patients, I see the cloning room again. Seeing so many clones of me still creeps me out. Now that I know they’re using them not only as test subjects, but also as weapons to spread the zombie infection, I feel sick to my stomach since there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
We walk quickly down to where the zombie experiments are being run. The woman in the first cage looks peaceful. She’s still asleep. As we all stare at her, I knock quietly on one of the bars and she stirs.
“What’s her name?” I ask.
“She’s your clone. Her name is Jane,” Brie says.
“How did I know you were going to say that?” I say, looking at my clone again. “Jane, it’s time to wake up. How are you feeling?”
We watch as she picks her head off of the bench. She turns to look at us and there’s no trace of the zombie plague on her face. It’s like looking into another mirror.
“I feel pretty good,” she says. “Whatever you gave me certainly did the trick!”
“Good. That’s good.”
Walking past the empty cage where my other clone died, we see the other Jane clone, who’s already up and talking.”
“So the cure works?” my clone asks.
“Yes, it looks like it does.” I wink at her.
“What happens to me now?”
“That’s a good question. I-I don’t know. Ben? Can you answer her question?”
“Don’t you worry about that just yet. We’ll set you both up with lives you love.”
“How can you promise that? What about the rest of my clones? What about them?”
“Those haven’t been activated yet and won’t be if these experiments are indeed successes. These two? Well, we’ll make sure they have good lives.”
“But some of them have been activated. The chips in their necks. Didn’t you hear what I told you last nig-?”
“Can we have another 24 hours, Ben?” Brie interrupts. “I just want to observe them a little longer. I want to make sure there aren’t any unwanted side effects from the cure. It wouldn’t be ri
ght if we gave the cure and then made everyone sick.”
“OK. 24 hours. No more.”
“She’s stalling until they can launch more invasions and infect more of the population. She’s lying. She doesn’t need more time. Get the cure out there now!”
“Honestly, I don’t know where you get your stories, Jane. I hope insanity isn’t a side effect of the cure,” Brie chuckles.
“I’m not insane. You’re lying. You know it. I know it,” I say to Brie before turning to the Professor. “Fine! Does that mean I get to go home? I want to leave this horrible place.”
“Yes. Of course it does. A promise is a promise. It looks like the cure is working and there don’t seem to be any serious side effects, other than what you experienced before.
***
Walking around the compound exploring, I hear a host of strange noises. I look around, but don’t see anything. The noises get louder. They’re so loud, my head starts to hurt. I lean against the wall to stabilize myself and stay on my feet. The static in my head starts to dissipate, and, almost out of instinct, I run to the experiment cages to check on my recovering clones. I peek my head in. Both are awake and don’t seem to be suffering from any negative side effects. I sneak inside.
“What’s going on?” one of my clones asks, pacing back and forth.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “But something is happening. I can feel it.”
“We were just talking about it. We feel it too. Let us out. We can help you.”
“It might be safer for you to stay here for right now,” I say.
“Probably, but we’re itching to get out of these cells, and if we can help, why not?” one of my clones says.
“Yeah, we’re going stir crazy in here, and who knows if that jerk is telling the truth about letting us out of here. You don’t trust him, do you?” the other clone says.
“I don’t know what to think or who to trust anymore, but six eyes are definitely better than two,” I reply.
Against my better judgement, I run back to the main research lab and grab the keys from the top drawer of Brie’s desk. Looking at them, I notice one ornate skeleton key. That must be the one. As I run back to the cells, I can hear those strange noises again. This time, they’re even louder than before.
***
With two of my clones by my side, we exit the holding cell room together and start exploring the compound as I had started to do before, trying to find where the noises are coming from.
“We should stay together. Whatever you do, don’t wander off,” I implore.
While searching, we come across the cloning room. Both of my clones get close to the window to look inside. I can see condensation from their breath forming on the window.
“There are so many of us in there,” one of them says.
“Is that where we were born?” the other asks.
“Uhhh. I’m not exactly sure how to answer that question. Yes?” I start to say when I see Malik pushing buttons on a control panel. After a few more seconds, I notice the liquid surrounding some of the clones begins to slowly drain from the pods. Once the fluid is completely gone, the clear casings housing the clones lift up. I can see steam escape from the pods when they are open. Some of the clones start to twitch and move on their own. “No. No. No,” I say to myself. Despite the three of us standing there, Malik's attention is elsewhere and he doesn’t notice us.
“What are you doing?” I shout, banging against the glass wall separating us. “Stop it! Don’t do this!”
Malik must hear me pounding on the wall because he looks up, throws me a vile air kiss, and continues prepping the clones for something, probably their plan to infect more people before giving them access to the cure.
Brie shows up and starts talking with Malik. Their conversation is a heated one with hands flying all about. Malik stomps his foot. Brie leans in and slaps him in the face. He steps back for a moment, probably stunned, and then pushes her to the ground. She gets up and tries to reach the console he’s been playing with, but he grabs her, drags her to the door, and throws her out of the lab. She runs off. With her gone, he continues on with his still mostly secret, devious plan.
I try entering the cloning lab from the first door without success, so I run around to the other side, where Malik just threw out Brie. Still no luck. Malik seems to have locked all the doors. “What are you doing? Open up!” I shout, banging on another window.
”Jane, it’s time,” the Vulture says in my ear. “Face it. You can’t control Malik. No one can. Get out of there and let our team handle it now.”
“Do what you need to do, but I’m not giving up. I’m not leaving.”
Malik doesn’t acknowledge me, but I’m not going to be ignored any longer. I run down the hall and burst into another office, stealing one of their generic metal chairs. Returning to the same window with Malik behind it, I grasp the chair solidly in my hands and rotate back about 180 degrees. If he won’t open the door, then I’ll just have to break through the window. Building up as much momentum as possible, I rotate my body back, hoping to swing the chair at such a force as to break the window.
When the chair connects with the window with a loud cracking noise, there’s a little fissure that appears. I pull the chair back again and slam it into the window again. The crack gets longer, but the window seems to be holding solid. The chair isn’t light so after two tries, I’m a bit winded. Inside, I see Malik smirking at me. Without this barrier between us, I could knock that smug smile off of his face with my fist. As I’m winding up for a third try, I stop when I hear the sounds that never fail to frighten me, those unmistakably familiar shrieking sounds that only zombies make.
I look in all directions and don’t see anything. The sounds are getting louder and louder. I’m not sure which direction to run as the sounds seem to be coming from all around me. Knowing that I won’t get through to Malik, I run back to join my clones.
And then we see them. Horrible, misshapen faces with dead eyes, blackened teeth, and deformed bodies splattered with dried blood come racing into the corridor toward us.
“Come on! Let’s get outta here!” I shout at my clones. We run, but if memory serves, this hallway ends soon. Stopping to try each doorknob to get out of the zombies' path, none of the doors open. Unsure what to do or where to go, I am caught off guard when one of the zombies knocks into me and we both fall to the ground. I kick it in the face and one of my clones grabs my hand and helps me back to my feet. I turn to run, but slip on the goop from my attacker. My other clone pulls me to my feet. Damn! It seems my clones are more adept than I am. “Run! This way!” I shout, grabbing them by the arms and pulling them away from the zombie attack.
As we’re running, I see zombies attacking the researchers wandering around the building, but Malik remains safe in the lab. I also notice the zombies trying to attack my clones. Others run right past us. I turn around and see even more zombies pouring into the hall. Behind them, I catch a glimpse of people dressed in all black military gear. It wasn't the same garb of the men who patrolled the compound. And what's more, the zombies were running from the armed men rather than at them. Wait. Is this an accidental zombie attack because they broke out of their cells, or did someone else bring these zombies here? The Vulture didn’t tell me any details, probably for fear of being overheard, but these guys must be Damar’s men. Who else would they be?
As the end of the corridor nears with nowhere else left to run, the three of us turn around to face our enemies and prepare to fight.
“I know we don’t have much, but go for the head. Sever their heads from their bodies or pound their heads into the ground and crush their brains. That’s the only way to stop them permanently. It’s the only way to be sure,” I say.
As they begin to swarm us, the clones use their limbs as weapons. The clone to my right uses her arms to punch one of the approaching zombies in the throat. While she doesn’t decapitate it, she certainly slows it down enough to knock it to the floor and stomp
on its head, crushing its skull until what’s left of its brain is mashed into the ground. The other grabs one of the zombies by the arm and gets it into some form of a neck choke. Not only does she rip its arm completely off, but she’s able to twist off the zombie’s head! How did they learn to fight like that?
Still mesmerized by their ability to mix it up and take down these undead attackers with their bare hands, I can’t help but stare. In that moment, I carelessly let my guard down. Seconds later, the zombies are on me, too. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
A bunch of them rush up and forcefully knock me against the wall. Their disgusting bodies are pressing against mine, pinning me. No exit, that noxious smell envelopes me and makes me gag. I use my left arm to push them off of me so I can get some of my personal space back. Then I use my dominant, right hand to punch a couple of them in the face. When my fist connects with their faces it hurts, but I have no choice. I have to keep fighting.
Grabbing one of them by what’s left of his greasy hair, I mash his head into my bent knee, and it barely slows him down. No matter how much I fight, my arms are not suitable replacements for actual weapons. They’re crowding me and I can’t move.
“Ahhh! Get them off of me!” I shout.
Suddenly the zombies around me fall to the floor. One of my clones kicks them in the back of their knees and stomps on their heads, smashing them open, brains crushed.
“Are you OK?” she asks.
“Yes! Thank you!” I reply.
“You can’t stop moving! They’re relentless!” she says, turning around to tackle another throng heading right for us. There are so many of them.
They manage to take down a good number more of the attacking zombies. They might be my clones, but they can sure fight better than me.
As the onslaught of zombies continues, both of my clones continue to fight, but as more and more of them pile on, the clone to my right falls to the floor. I pull the knife from my back pocket and do my best to stab the zombies in the head, hoping to pull them off of her, but there are just too many. Turning around, I see my other clone emerge from another mess of zombies, bloodied and battered, still fighting furiously. Grabbing one of the zombies by the hair, she turns the tables and bites one of them in the neck and tears its head clean off its shoulders. Distracted by the zombie head bouncing down the hallway, I hear my other clone scream. I get back to helping her, but as I get closer, trying to push as many zombies aside as possible, I see one of them take her head in his hand. She struggles to break free, but can’t escape his grip.
