Strange Robby

by Selina Rosen

  He also bought way too much ammo for his gun, a wrist rocket slingshot, a small crossbow and twenty bolts.

  He knew everything in these woods that was edible, and he could live here for the rest of his life if he had to. The bastards could try, but they couldn't out wait Tommy Chan.

  The only thing that was really bothering him was that he didn't know what was happening with Spider. He leaned back in his chair and looked into the fire. He couldn't decide whether he wished Spider had told him more, or whether he wished she had told him less. The things he was imagining didn't leave Spider in very good shape.

  Laura was still very tired, but then you really couldn't expect her to be doing flips. After all, she was diabetic and recovering from a gunshot wound. Still, it looked better today than it had the day before, so it was healing. Laura didn't complain, but he could tell she was scared and worried. She didn't understand why they were on the run. She was hurt, and she really wanted familiar surroundings and people. She kept talking about how worried her parents must be.

  Tommy looked at the bare concrete floor. He remembered doing pushups on that same floor till his arms ached. These woods in which his cousins had played had been a survival course for him. The creek they had kicked, splashed, and had water fights in had meant hours of swimming back and forth till his stomach cramped for him. Still he had loved it here. Perhaps because it was a change of scenery, or because the whole family was together, or maybe it was just the overall feeling of peace you got from being in the woods far away from the mechanized world.

  He felt at peace here now and felt guilty about it. Laura was upset, Spider was certainly not enjoying whatever-the-hell was happening to her, and he was happy because he was in the woods with his wife, camping with a bunch of new gear he was never going to pay for.

  There was no rhyme or reason to the way they turned the lights off and on, and Spider had no idea how many days she'd been there, but they hadn't let her shower. It was dark, and as always the boy was making his way towards her. No matter how many times she shoved him away, he kept creeping closer. This night, or day, or whatever it was, was no different. The next thing she knew the boy was lying against her. She started to shove him away and then had a brainstorm. She couldn't talk to him because they would hear anything that was said. They couldn't contact each other telepathically because of the psychic disrupter, but . . .

  Her back was to the window, the camera would only catch the boy's front. She started to trace out letters on his back slowly.

  ~Can you read this? Move your arm if the answer is yes.~

  For a minute his arm was still, but then it moved. You bastards! I found a way around your shit again.

  Spider smiled.

  ~Move your head for no, your arm for yes.~

  He moved his arm again.

  ~Good boy! Did you burn anything for them?~

  He moved his head.

  ~Good! Don't. Don't let them know that you have power. We can get out of here if we use our heads.~

  He turned around then and wrote on her stomach. *I thought you didn't like me.*

  Spider moved her head and wrote on his stomach. ~I can't let them know.~

  *I'm scared.*

  ~They should be afraid of us.~

  Robby didn't mind sleeping in the car. Of course, he'd spent weeks making sure that the car was as comfortable as most bedrooms. As for bathing in the sink in the men's room, with his bath box, it wasn't that much harder than jumping into the shower at home. He had learned a long time ago, and had pounded it into his siblings' heads that if a person really wanted to be clean, then they could get clean. It didn't take that much time or that much money. All it took was a little effort.

  What Robby didn't like was not working; it made his days long and boring. He still had no clue how to get Spider Webb out, but he knew that whatever he was going to do, he was going to have to do it soon.

  Every noon he had lunch down at the diner. He told himself it was because he was checking out the SWTF staff, but the truth was he spent more time checking Helen out.

  He knew from what he was picking up from some of the lab coats that Spider was in the building in a highly secured section, and that she had a small boy with her. Other than that, most of the bastards were so dark you didn't want to stay in their heads long. Not if you couldn't kill them immediately afterwards.

  It was odd; most of the security guys were OK. Some were a little gray, but most of them weren't black. The scientists, though, they were the bad fuckers. Twisted shits, every single one. Then there were the SWTF guys. They didn't come in very often, but when they did, they made Robby's blood run cold, and it was all he could do to keep from frying them. The grimy scientist guys rationalized that what they did was for the greater good—they were insane. But the So-what-if guys just liked the power they wielded and causing pain.

  He went to the diner for lunch, and there was a Help Wanted sign on the door. It was his lucky day. Now no one would question his being there to watch either the So-what-if guys or Helen.

  He walked straight up to Helen. "Anyone take the job yet?"

  "You don't want it," Helen whispered. "It's minimum wage, and it's washing the dishes."

  Robby shrugged. "I don't mind doing dishes."

  "Then go talk to Rudy; he's in the kitchen. But don't say I didn't warn you."

  Rudy hired him on the spot. Then he proceeded to tell him everything that was wrong with the dishwasher—which was basically everything. Robby worked through the lunch rush with it busted, and then brought his tools in and started working on it. By the time the evening crowd hit, the washer was fixed and the job was easy. At least it was easy for Robby, especially when he got to spend so much time looking at and talking to Helen.

  He was caught up with his work and helping Helen with orders for the evening crowd when he walked in. He was a So-what-if guy—one of the ones that wore black—and when Robby looked at him he saw black, but the black was engulfing, surrounding the light. This was something that he had never seen before. This man was trapped—trapped as surely as Spider Webb was trapped. He wanted out, wanted redemption, and saw no way to achieve it. He wanted another chance, or at least a chance to make things right. He hated doing the things they made him do, and the thing that weighed heaviest on his mind at this time was that he was the one who had stolen the boy from his parents. Robby brought him a menu and their eyes met.

  "What the hell are you looking at?" he asked Robby, jerking the menu from his hand.

  Robby smiled back at him. "A very troubled man."

  The man looked down at Robby's hands then, and Robby let him look.

  "Just call the waitress when you're ready to order," Robby said and walked quickly away, sticking his hands into his pockets. That man might be able to help him, but he was going to have to be more careful. His hands would be a dead give away to any SWTF personnel who worked on "the project" as they all called it.

  The man's name was Fritz, and Mark hated him. He was a bad, bad, man, with darkness all around him.

  Every day they came and got him. They put the deprivation helmet on him, and then they carried him to this room. They took the helmet off, there was a bale of hay there, and over and over again they told him to burn it up. Over and over again he told them he couldn't. He could see them standing behind the glass, and he knew what he'd really like to burn up. He wasn't sure he could burn the hay even if he wanted to. After all, it hadn't hurt anybody, and he wasn't mad at it.

  "All you have to do is try. Focus your mind," Fritz said.

  "I am!" Mark screamed.

  Fritz made a screaming, irritated noise then, a noise that Mark had only ever heard coming out of Fritz's mouth.

  "Did she tell you not to do it?" Fritz asked.

  "Who?" Mark asked.

  "Damn it boy, you know who! The woman."

  "Which woman?" Mark asked playing dumb; something he knew annoyed the hell out of Fritz.

  He made the noise again. "Spider Webb. Yo
ur mother."

  "You know everything she says to me," Mark said. "You listen to everything. She doesn't even like me."

  "We know you're finding some way to communicate. How are you doing it?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about. She hates me." He started to cry then. It wasn't hard to whip up tears when you really were sad and scared shitless. "I want to go home! I want to go home!"

  "Worthless boy!" Fritz screamed. "Don't you realize that if you can't make fire you are of no use to us?"

  "I want to go home! I want my mom!"

  Don looked at the woman carefully but didn't dare get too close. He turned the high-powered hose on again. Fritz said it would dredge up nightmares and past memories that might help break her. Fritz said to knock her down every time she stood up. It didn't seem to be breaking her, though; all it really seemed to be doing was pissing her off real bad.

  "You fucking bastard! If I ever get my hands on you!"

  He hit her in the face and knocked her down.

  Spider hit the floor hard, and they laughed—they all laughed. Then the interpreter asked her again in his broken English.

  "American pig! Where is your unit?"

  "Up your butt, you filthy bastard!" she yelled. She had just stumbled to her feet and the hose knocked her down again. She hit her head and the world spun.

  One of the guards took her by the hair of the head and banged her head into the dirt till there was so much mud up her nose she couldn't breathe. She blew hard, blowing the dirt plugs from her nose, and then she grabbed the filthy bastard by the head and twisted hard and fast. He dropped like a rock. They screamed out, and then there were boots, and water, and darkness.

  Spider pulled herself up and ran to the center of the room where the chain that held her was imbedded in the concrete floor. She grabbed it with both hands and started yanking screaming, "I'll kill you! You fucking rag headed bastard! I'll kill you!"

  Don watched in terror as the chain started to give. He turned the hose off, there was a snapping sound, and she was free and running at him. Don headed for the doors, but no one was opening them.

  "Jesus, God! Let me outtah here! Goddamn! Open the door!" He felt her hands grab the back of his shirt. "Oh dear God!"

  The door opened and a crew of armed So-what-if guys ran into the room, but Don was already dead, his head smashed like a melon on the wall of the room.

  The door closed quickly behind the crew.

  Spider slung her palm into the nose of one man, driving it up into his brain. As she was grabbing his gun, three darts struck her at once.

  Spider looked at them. "Oh fuck!" The gun rattled from her hands, and she fell to the floor.

  Fritz looked at the tapes over and over again. "Amazing! Her strength is far greater than that of other test subjects. Her sense of balance, focal points—it really is amazing! I'd seen her looking at the chain before, but had no idea that she had been slowly weakening one of the links. Or that she would even be capable of something like this."

  "Fritz, I asked you what we were going to do about Don's body," Francis repeated. She'd been hysterical most of the afternoon, and the last thing she wanted to see over and over again was her friend and colleague having his brain smashed out of his head.

  "I'm having the bodies incinerated," Fritz said. "Same as we always do. Try not to be so sentimental. Don was a scientist, and he knew the risks."

  "You should have had one of the goons doing it, not Don!" Francis cried. "That thing has killed three people since she's been here."

  "They're morons, Francis. They have no idea what to look for—the subtle break in a voice, the gentle lift of an eyebrow . . . it takes a scientist to recognize things like that." Fritz turned away from the monitor and looked down at the scene below. "Ah! The mother and her child. It's a pity that the boy has no real power; all of his siblings have shown such promise. But he doesn't seem to have anything. The only plus to that being that it allows us to go all the way if we have to."

  "She seems to have grown some attachment for the boy. She lets him sleep by her now. He brings her meals without being asked, and she thanks him."

  "Still, I wonder if it will be enough for her to give up her friend," Fritz said. "It is a crying shame about Don. He had a brilliant mind. I will miss working with him."

  "They were all screaming and running everywhere, what happened?" the boy asked his mother.

  The woman smiled at the boy, then looked right at them through the two-way glass. "I killed a couple of the bastards. At this rate I ought to have everyone in the building killed off by late winter."

  "If you aren't a little more cautious, that's just exactly what will happen," Francis told Fritz.

  "Helen, ah . . . " Robby couldn't believe that he was stammering. He'd thought about it all week. "You want to go to the movies?"

  Helen smiled at him. "You mean like right now?" she asked, putting away her apron.

  "Well . . . yes." Robby said.

  "I'd love to if we could go by my house first so I can change. It's only a couple of blocks away," she said.

  Robby just nodded his head like a big dumb idiot and led the way out to his car. They got in and he started towards her apartment, without waiting for her to give him directions.

  "So, you never have said. How long do you plan to stay here?" Helen asked. "In town I mean."

  Robby shrugged. "I . . . I don't really know. I've got to hang around till . . . Well, till I get my business done, and then I'll have to leave—probably in a hurry."

  Helen laughed. "You make it sound like you're some kind of gangster or something."

  Robby laughed then. "I wish. At least that would be profitable."

  "What are you doing, then?" she asked.

  "I can't say," he said.

  She squealed with delight. "I knew it! I knew it! You're an FBI agent and you're checking out those egg heads down at SWTF."

  "I can't say," Robby said again.

  "There're up to no good, aren't they? A bad bunch. Is it dangerous, your assignment I mean?" Helen asked in a hushed whisper.

  "Helen, I really can't talk about it with you. I wish I could, but I have orders." They were given to me by a big ole dyke cop, but I still got orders.

  "I'm sorry, it's just so interesting. I always knew they were up to no good. Right bad feelings you get from that whole bunch. This is my apartment."

  Robby pulled over and parked.

  "You want to come up with me? It will only take me a minute."

  Robby nodded and followed her up the outside set of stairs to her second floor apartment. It wasn't a very nice building, but her apartment was clean, and she'd obviously done a lot of work on it.

  "Sit wherever you like, I'll just be a minute."

  She walked into another room and Robby sat down in the recliner and kicked back. His feet were a little tired from standing on them all day, but when all was done and said the dishwashing job was the easiest job he'd ever had.

  "Your apartment is nice," Robby said.

  "It's a dump, but it's home," she said. "There's some soda in the fridge if you want it."

  "No thanks." Robby looked at the pictures scattered around the room. No doubt pictures of her family. It made Robby homesick for his own family. Made him wonder how the kids were doing. "Pictures of your family?"

  "Yes. I come from a big family. Catholic—three sisters, three brothers," she said.

  "I come from a big family, too. Welfare—three brothers, four sisters. We all have different daddies, and mother's a big time crack whore. I've raised them mostly on my own. I sure do miss them."

  Helen walked out then fully dressed. She was brushing her hair over the front of her face and he thought it was the most spectacular thing he had ever seen.

  "My family is kind of boring. Mama and Papa have been married forever. No one in jail, no one on drugs, all married with kids except me. I'm the baby." She stood up then, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. "So, you ready to go then?"
>
  Robby stood up. "You're . . . you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

  Helen blushed. "Thank you, Robby."

  "I'm sorry." He looked at his feet and then back at Helen. "I have a confession. I've never been on a date before."

  Helen laughed, but not hatefully. She walked over and took both his hands. "Now that doesn't sound like the kind of thing I would expect an FBI agent to say."

  "I never said I was FBI," Robby said.