Murder Genes

by Mikael Aizen

  Bitch was mumbling something through his tears. Jay leaned in close. "Ma, oh Ma...I'm sorry...we didn't mean to...come back...back...Ma..." Bitch suddenly looked up and bolted toward the dead woman with strawberry hair. He snatched the blade from the ground and dove on her body, straddling her corpse. He lifted the knife and plunged it down, screaming. "This is your fault Ma's dead. Your fault!" Stab. Stab. Stab. "Why! Why did you do make us do it!" Stab. Stab.

  Blood and gore spurted and mothers hid their children's eyes and turned their own faces away, horror-stricken. Adan's gun tracked Bitch the whole time. "Do it and I blow your head off," Jay said.

  "He's crazy, isn't he? He's insane!"

  Jay looked at Bitch, who was stabbing the woman's now unrecognizable face. The knife caught on a bone, and Bitch hollered as he ripped it free with both hands. He kept stabbing. "Yes," Jay answered. He didn't understand what had just happened with Bitch, but right now he needed to protect him. Crazy or not. "Aren't we all?" Jay said.

  Adan's gun hand dropped. "You killed Paul and Mike, didn't you."

  Jay put his own gun hand down and tore his gaze from watching Bitch's maniacal assault on a corpse. "Yeah, I did."

  Adan pointed with his chin at the woman whose hair had been strawberry blond, red now. "She was Paul's wife." Adan knelt by his wife. His shoulders began shaking.

  Seemed Paul would haunt Jay to the end. Karma would have its way with Jay, someday.

  A few women had found corners, vomiting. Most had their heads turned away. "I'm sorry," Jay said to Adan.

  Adan looked up with wet eyes. "I think you should leave. We'll survive without your help."

  Jay nodded and went to Bitch. He picked the kid up by the back of his shirt and leveled a gaze at Bitch. "Let's go," he said.

  Bitch blinked slowly, his hand still grasped the knife by the fingertips.

  "Keep the guns," Jay said to Adan as he left.

  Chapter 24

  The American Eugenics Society (AES) was a society established in 1922 to promote eugenics in the United States.

  It was the result of the Second International Conference on Eugenics (New York, 1921). The founders included Madison Grant, Harry H. Laughlin, Irving Fisher, Henry Fairfield Osborn, and Henry Crampton. The organization started by promoting racial betterment, eugenic health, and genetic education through public lectures, exhibits at county fairs ea., but under the direction of Frederick Osborn, started to place greater focus on issues of population control, genetics, and, later, medical genetics. In 1972 the AES was reorganized and renamed in "The Society for the Study of Social Biology"

  -American Eugenics Society. (2009, September 6). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. From http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=American_Eugenics_Society&oldid=312214591

  Del had asked him where he'd gone, she said she was worried. Kyle told her that he'd gone for a walk.

  She didn't believe him.

  He didn't care that she didn't believe him because she wasn't real and caring about fake things was stupid. Caring about fake things IS stupid.

  But he did care about Del. Even if she was fake and lying.

  Kyle made his plans to run away and escape so that he wouldn't have to see her anymore and Callie's father wouldn't be able to have cameras on him anymore and he could live normally without being tested even if he wouldn't have a place to stay and food to eat. He would find a way to start his life over somewhere else, somehow. He just had one thing to take care of first.

  "Tim?" Kyle knocked on the door.

  "Kyle! What are you doing here?" Tim spun in his chair, holding on to a stylus like he'd stopped writing in mid-stroke. A cup of coffee steamed on his table.

  "I wanted to talk."

  "Of course! Come in, son." Tim rolled over to a nearby chair and patted it. "Where's your Mom?"

  "I walked," Kyle said.

  Tim frowned. "I'm pretty sure your mom will have a mouthful after she knows you snuck out of the home after sunset to see me at school. Something bad could've happened."

  "I know. But I had to talk to you." Kyle peeked at Tim's desk. There was a newspaper clipping on his deskscreen about the recent fire. "I know you've been worried," Kyle said.

  "It's been dangerous around town lately," Tim said.

  "Not that. You're worried that I might have The Code."

  Tim tilted his head. "Kyle, we tested you already, don't you remember?"

  "I overheard you and Del talking about me. Del faked the test."

  Tim sighed, and then he grunted to himself like he was shrugging.

  "I know you want to test me for yourself because you're afraid of me. Don't pretend that you aren't."

  "I'm not afraid of you Kyle. I'm worried for you."

  "No, you're worried for Del. You're worried I might murder her."

  "Kyle, that's not tru..."

  "IT IS!" Kyle cut him off.

  Tim grunted again. He watched Kyle and crossed his arms. "Why are you here, Kyle?"

  "I want you to test me."

  Tim wrinkled his brows and stared critically at Kyle. "You want me to test you," he repeated.

  "I know that Del didn't want you to, but...I want to know. I need to know if I have the Murderer Gene."

  "You want me to test you," Tim said the third time. "If you were listening to our conversations, you'll know that Del made me promise not to test you."

  "We won't tell her."

  "Why do you want to know so bad?" Tim asked.

  Kyle paused, saying his words carefully. "Because I need you to know that I care about Del and that I'm not a murderer. And I need to know myself that I'm not like my dad. My real dad."

  Tim shook his head. "I'm sorry Kyle. I promised Del I wouldn't."

  "You know that isn't true," Kyle said. "You know that I do have The Code and that it wasn't an accident for Callie's brother to die. Deep inside you know."

  Tim didn't deny it. "Doesn't matter what I think, or what you think I believe. I promised my wife I wouldn't test you, and this'll be the end of it."

  "What if I told you that I was there when El died, and I was there when the fire burned that boy in the paper you're reading. And what if I told you that I know about you and Del being fake parents and it makes me very angry," Kyle simmered.

  "What are you saying Kyle?" Tim just stared at him.

  "Can they really have been accidents? All of them?"

  "Are you telling me you killed them? Just tell me and we'll work it out, everything will be OK. We are your parents, Kyle. Even if you're adopted, we're still your real parents and we care about you and we'll always love you."

  "No you aren't and no you won't. I know about you two. I know you and Del and everyone else are part of the experiment and that you are testing me and playing with my head with your 'Natural Science' techniques. I know people are watching me even now and I know that you are liars who don't care about me, really." Kyle whipped up his sleeve. "Test me. I want to know."

  Tim's eyes were wide and full of pity. "Kyle!" he whispered. "I had no idea they did this to you. Whatever you think you know, and whatever you think is happening, and whatever they told you, there isn't any experiment. I promise you." Tim began nodding like it'd convince Kyle. "I PROMISE. No one is after you and no one is trying to play with your head." Tim held out a hand. "Come here son. Let's talk and get through this."

  "I poisoned your coffee, DAD, and unless you test me I won't tell you the antidote."

  Tim looked at him with a neutral expression. "What does the poison do?"

  "Kill you. Slowly. You stop breathing and then your heart stops," Kyle answered.

  "And how long do I have?"

  Kyle looked at the cup. "Half a day, maybe."

  Tim smiled. "You can't fool me with that movie stuff. There's no such thing, no poison has those properties, at least not one with an antidote."

  "You're wrong," Kyle said. "Are you going to bet your life on your guess?"

  Tim crossed his arms and leaned back. "Yup."r />
  Kyle clenched his jaw. "What do I need to do to convince you?"

  "Convince me that a poison exists that works against any physiological property?"

  "Convince you to test me."

  Tim uncrossed his arms and sat forward, interlacing his fingers. "You tell me the truth and I'll test you." Tim paused. "Did you kill these boys?"

  Kyle held Tim's gaze. "Yes."

  Tim watched him for a second. "OK.” He paused like he was unsure, like he'd expected more. “Well, Kyle, a promise is a promise. I'll take your blood under one condition."

  "What."

  "Tonight, we talk. You tell Del and I everything that's happened to you and everything that's been going on and we face the consequence as a family."

  Kyle nodded.

  "I want you to promise."

  Klye nodded again.

  "Say it."

  "I promise."

  Tim sighed and sat back. "OK then. Let's get started." He pulled his tools out and drew Kyle's blood. He didn't ask anymore questions as he did, but there was a shadow over his eyes as dark as pitch night.

  "You're better than before," Kyle said as the blood filled the container.

  "Thanks Kyle. I've had plenty of practice." Tim stoppered the bottle and set it on the table. "I'll get the test kit," he said, walking toward the back of the clinic.

  As soon as he was out of sight, Kyle snatched the bottle and ran as fast and as quietly as he could out of the clinic. Right outside the doors he picked up the backpack he'd left, stopping only long enough to stuff the blood sample in the back pocket. He'd find someone else to test it and he'd find a way to keep the tester from finding out where the blood came from, just in case. Then Kyle threw the bag over his shoulders as he sprinted down the hallways and out of the school. When Tim's voice came calling out after him, first questioning, then with alarm, it made Kyle run faster. He hid outside the school, inside a ditch with a big round hole through the ground and water at its bottom. He hid until Tim's car stopped searching nearby and drove off searching further out. Only then did Kyle slip from the ditch and begin his trek the opposite direction, down roads he knew would lead to something.

  As long as they led somewhere else, he didn't care.

  The first car Kyle saw came to a stop right after it'd passed Kyle. It was a big red truck. A man wearing an old cowboy hat stepped out. "Hey kid! Whatcha doing out here alone?"

  Kyle kept walking, circling the truck.

  "Hey! Didn't you hear me? It's cold out here. Where are your parents?" The man in the hat began following him down the road, his truck's headlights were still on and his door open. When Kyle kept walking, the man cussed and ran back to his car, closed the car door and jogged back toward him, holding a jacket. "Kid! Quit walking. You can't be out here alone."

  "Leave me alone." Kyle yelled when the man came close.

  "Take it from me, whatever the problem is, just talk to your parents. C'mon, I'll take you to them."

  "Get away from me." Kyle didn't trust strangers. Especially when it was from someone who seemed too friendly and appeared too conveniently in the middle of the night.

  The man took his hat off and walked in a slouched position so that Kyle could see his face. He had a scruffy beard and really flushed skin. "Kid, you gotta get indoors. There's a storm coming and you can't be out here. You'll die. Take the coat and come with me."

  Kyle didn't feel cold. "I said get away."

  "Kid, I gotta call the police if you don't get in the car. And I'm gonna chase you if you try to run. Just get in the car. I'll take you home. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

  Kyle smiled to himself. "If you try, I'll hurt you. Don't come near me."

  "That's no way to speak to a grown up. Come here, boy." The man put his hand on Kyle's shoulder.

  Kyle hooked his arm around the man's arm at the elbow, pinning the man. He pulled hard upward like an uppercut. The man's elbow snapped.

  "Oh FUCK! YOU LITTLE SHIT!" the man screamed.

  "I told you," Kyle said, walking on, shouldering his backpack.

  The man tackled him and Kyle spun enough to land on his side. "I don't care who the fuck you think you are, kid," the man frothed at his lips, cradling the arm as he straddled Kyle. "I'm taking you indoors if it costs me my..."

  Kyle slugged him across the temple and the man went limp. He was a dumb man, that one. He pushed the man away to his side. Snow was falling around them and he lay there for a second, thinking about nothing. Then he got up and grabbed the man's foot, dragging him on his back to the car. Kyle wrestled until he got the man back into the car and closed the door after he put the hat over the man's face.

  Kyle kept walking.

  Snow drifted and clung on his face into tiny droplets and Kyle still didn't feel cold. He knew he should, walking in the mountains over Utah where the winds were fast and the temperature way below zero. But he wasn't cold. In fact, the air gave him a deep energy that made him want to take a breath as fast and deep as he could because he hated the feeling of letting the air escape. When he looked behind him, he could see tracks fade in the distance and disappear as snow filled them like slow-moving water.

  Kyle took his shoes and socks off to feel the snowy earth. There was a sting in each step, but warmth quickly rushed over his toes so that he couldn't feel the sting anymore. This time when he looked back behind him he could see his footprints leave watery puddles that froze while he watched. It was strange that he could see so well in the dark.

  And while it'd only been a few months since he'd been kidnapped, he'd realized something that he normally never thought about. He hadn't grown any taller in that time. Not a bit. Stronger, faster, and able to stand in the cold and see in the dark. But not taller.

  Another car came coming around the corner. Slipping a little. Kyle kept his head down, hiding behind his backpack, hoping the car wouldn't stop. It didn't.

  Instead, the car, the red truck, the same truck Kyle had seen before, swerved and slid as it came at him. He saw the brakes lock over and over, and saw the man inside the truck waving his arm at Kyle frantically before grabbing at the wheel with his one hand. Kyle ran to the side of the road, out of the way, and watched the truck spin so that it was moving forward crooked. The truck tilted and crashed into the ground onto its side. It slowed. Stopped. On its side the car's engine kept running and one of the lights were still on.

  Kyle approached the car, and peered in. The glass windshield had fallen clean off and the man with the hat lay unconscious inside with his arms flopped around him like he was hugging himself. He didn't know how long he stood there, waiting for the man to move, but at some point the man's lips got pale and blue. That was when Kyle decided to help.

  He dropped his shoes and socks and took off his backpack. He crawled inside and unbuckled the man's car belt and pulled the unconscious body out through where the windshield had been. Snow kept blowing around them, and Kyle knew even with his strength that he wouldn't be able to lift cowboy man. He crawled back into the car and looked around for something he could put under the man to drag.

  In the rear, there was a latch to a doorway in the back. He opened it. Inside the back was a mess of stuff thrown by the crash. Ropes, buckets, shovels.

  A woman crumpled over herself.

  Kyle's breath caught and he crawled forward and touched the woman with shaking fingers. Her body was cold. Kyle could see most her features in the dark but he couldn't tell her hair color, or the details of her face. He dragged at her and pulled her toward the front of the car where the moonlight would let him see even better. When her head popped out sideways out of the doorway with a sticky-note on it, Kyle dropped her.

  He stared and stared and held his breath and closed his eyes as hard as he could. But he'd already read the note. It'd said, "You can't hide." He grabbed his hair in a fist and gripped tight as he held his breath more, held and squeezed his eyes until a tear came free from his eye and a feeling came out from his heart.

 
It was Del's body. Mom's body. She was dead.

  Kyle grabbed her under the arms and pulled her free from the car, into the headlights to see. Her lifeless and limp body drooped over the windshield where bits of glass cut her. She bled just a little and not for long. When he put her down in the snow in front of the headlights, he threw aside the sticky-note so that he could see every characteristic of her face and the little smile she was supposed to have and the fluttering of her eyes she was supposed to do as she woke up. Then her hand would reach up and ruffle his hair and tell him how much she loved him. But first she'd wake up. She'd wake up.

  "Wake!" Kyle said. "Mom. Wake up, please." She didn't listen. She didn't care. This time she wasn't faking, not like he wanted her to. The raw red ring around her neck wasn't fake.

  He should have trusted her.

  The thought hurt worse than anything, because this time he could've had a mother and maybe, they could have loved each other like mothers and sons were supposed to love each other.

  That was the last thing he said to her for the rest of the night. He left the cowboy man to die and took Mom instead, dragged her body up onto his shoulders and began walking, leaving his bag. Walking toward nowhere. She was heavier than he'd ever carried, but he felt like he could carry her forever. Because he loved her, and she loved him. She always had, that's what she'd said. That's what she always said.

  I love you too, Mom. And in the deep, farthest back part of his mind he knew something else. After he found out why Mom was murdered, he'd get revenge on the person who'd done this--the person behind the experiment. Callie's father. And he'd do it in the worst, most painful way possible.

  Chapter 25

  This is not a future dystopia, this is now. Behavioral genetics have taken root in our understanding and the correlations are astounding. The only decision to be made now is: How do we use this information for the betterment of mankind?

  -Rejen, Annujin. "The Begging of the Gene War." Times. April 18, 2022.

  "What the fuck are we going to do now?" Bitch asked Jay, then saying to Xiaos, "He gives away our guns and wants us to rescue people with nothing more than our cocks leading the way. And I don't think the Korees will be up for 'sword' fighting."