by Leito, Chad
“What’s going to happen to her?” someone else asked.
McCoy shrugged. “I’m going to report her absence, and then someone else decides. It’s not really up to me.”
Jessica Stine didn’t seem fazed. “I’m sure there’s an explanation. It would be so unlike Brumi to miss class.”
McCoy changed the subject: “You might have noticed that big room behind me—you can see it through the glass. On this side, you’ve got the butt of a spear gun and the trigger. On the other side, you’ve got the barrel, the spear, and the target. Pretty simple.
“This is the new addition to Flying Class that was mentioned in the paper. Here’s the way it works. Every day, after you all fly through the course, the person who had the fastest time gets to take a shot at the target with the spear gun. If that person hits it, they get to choose a new mutation, and this class is over for the whole semester. If he or she misses the target, we convene again for the next class day. You only get one shot per day. So, Stridor, step up here, bud. You were fastest.”
Stridor stood on wobbly feet and walked forward slowly. He had lost a lot of blood and was pale. He walked around the large pool of water to the butt of the gun.
“Just point and shoot, it’s that simple,” Conway said.
Stridor looked back at him. “What’s the catch?”
“That’s all I can tell you.”
Asa watched closely as Stridor gripped the butt of the gun and wrapped his long index finger over the trigger. The gun was in a ball-socket in the wall so that Stridor could aim it in the other room, but he couldn’t remove the gun, or push it inward.
As Stridor aimed, Shashowt said to Charlotte: “That’s all he has to do? Hit some stupid target?”
Stridor took his time lining up the shot, and McCoy watched from the side of the pool. Stridor pulled the trigger, and the gunshot’s sound was muffled from the other room. The spear projected forward at a blazing speed, and Asa saw that it was headed right for the target.
But then something happened. Asa didn’t believe his eyes at first, but then he saw the crumpled spear lying on the ground a few feet in front of the target. Stridor stepped back, confused.
The spear had crumpled in mid-air just before it made it to the target, as though an invisible barrier had blocked it.
“Good shot! Maybe next time!” McCoy said.
“That was rigged!” cried Shashowt.
“Duh,” McCoy said back. “Get out of here, guys and girls. You’ve got other classes to go to. See you tomorrow.”
That was when they heard the screaming and moaning coming from outside. It was a weeping, sobbing, desperate sound, like the survivor of a bomb that killed her whole family might make. The sound was definitely coming from a female.
Many of the students had already stood in the room, and were preparing to exit. McCoy put a hand up to them. “Sit down!” he commanded. He walked over to the exit and opened up the door. That was when the girl ran inside.
She was wild, and it was obvious that she was hurt. It wasn’t just injury that made her emit those terribly desperate sounds, though. There was something much more terrifying than injury going on here. Dripping from a deep, crescent-shaped gash on the girl’s neck was a mixture of clotted black and red. The red was blood. The black liquid was Multiplier venom.
For the first time since Asa’s arrival at the Academy, a Multiplier had bit a student.
10
Mama
Asa had seen the girl before—brown skin, large brown eyes, and a diamond nose ring. But he didn’t know her name until Jessica Stine stood up and shouted “Brumi!” with a shaking voice.
Brumi entered the room in hysterics, she was moaning with drool running out of her mouth and gasping for air.
McCoy let the exit door fall shut, after peering out and seeing the landing deserted.
“Brumi!” Jessica said again. Jessica was already crying, and she began to sprint over to her friend, who had collapsed on the wet stone floor.
In a display of speed, McCoy caught Jessica by the arms before she reached her injured friend. Apparently he thought that Jessica could only make the situation worse. Jessica thrashed and tugged, trying to release herself from McCoy’s grip, but he was too strong. “Go sit down!” McCoy said. “Now!”
“No! My friend! Brumi!”
Brumi wasn’t talking. She was huddled down on her knees in the fetal position with her face pressed against the already bloody floor. Her white Academy-issued suit had been ripped in half so that her torso was completely exposed. Asa felt indecent watching, but couldn’t turn away.
The girl was bleeding from her scalp, her face, her shoulder, and her neck. She had scrapes up and down her back that looked as though they had been made by fingernails. The injury on her neck—the one that was caused by a Multiplier bite—looked the worst. Asa wasn’t ready to think about what it could mean yet.
“Sit down!” McCoy called at the crowd. Most of the students were standing now. The standing had started when the first row stood, then the row behind them couldn’t see, then the row behind that row couldn’t see and stood, and it went on like that. “Sit down!”
No one seemed to be listening to McCoy. Jessica was still thrashing in McCoy’s arms. No one was willing to sit and miss a second of what would happen with Brumi—the Multiplier-bit student was a tragedy you couldn’t look away from. They all recognized that black stuff leaking from her neck. A sick curiosity overcame the crowd and they wanted to know what would happen to her.
Teddy’s nose was gushing with blood.
That was when the exit doors opened again, and long shadows were cast onto the floor. People screamed and turned, looking at the three men who had just entered. It was understandable for the students to be scared upon seeing the Multipliers, especially considering Brumi’s dripping black wound.
This is it, Asa thought. They’ve broken the contract and now there’s no turning back. The Multipliers are going to do everything in their power to take over the human race now. This is what the Multipliers in the woods were waiting for.
“SILENCE!” Hollered the ugly Multiplier from the other room. Shouts and screams continued to erupt from the crowd. “QUIET!”
Brumi was still squirming on the ground, and Jessica was still fighting with McCoy.
One of the Multipliers drew a gun. “Back away from McCoy!” Jessica didn’t listen. There was a three second pause between the command to “back away,” and the gunpowder explosion. Then red was dripping from Jessica’s side. She fell to her knees, and then a second bullet from the gun raced through her brain and out her skull with a sharp crack. She fell on her cheek to the stone. Her head smacked on the floor and then she stared at the wall with unmoving eyes.
She should have listened. This place isn’t soft on insubordinates.
The crowd was now silent, except for a few sobs. McCoy had Jessica’s blood all over him, and he turned and looked at the Multipliers. Asa thought that he detected fear in McCoy’s eyes.
“What happened in here, McCoy?” the ugly Multiplier said. He pointed his handgun at the ground, but did not holster it. “Seems as though it got a bit rowdy.”
McCoy just pointed at Brumi and then backed up a step.
Derden the Multiplier approached Brumi, poked her with his foot, and she let out one sharp scream before continuing to sob.
Brumi kept her mouth open, and her teeth pressed against the stone as she groaned into the floor. She coughed and spat. Her hair hung down to the stone, now bloody and wet. In addition to being in great mental distress, Asa saw that she was experiencing body-rattling tremors. Her exposed back was tight with spasm.
“What happened here?” repeated the ugly Multiplier.
“You tell me,” McCoy said. “Looks like a Multiplier bit the girl. She didn’t show up earlier, and a few minutes ago she barged through the exit door, dripping with that that black stuff.”
“What do you mean, you tell me?” barked the ugly Multiplier. “I didn’t bite her.
No Multiplier bit her. We’re not allowed to do that.”
“Someone bit her, Jermaine!” McCoy said.
Jermaine looked the girl over. He had short, fat fingers that he ran through greasy hair. His face resembled a bulldog’s. “What happened to you, honey?” Jermaine asked.
The girl just continued to sob. She gave no indication that she had heard what he said.
“This must be some kind of sick joke, McCoy! What is this? Really?”
“This isn’t a joke! This girl entered in hysterics.”
Derden the Multiplier walked over and picked the girl up by her hair. Brumi screamed and grabbed the Multiplier’s hand for support. Her brown eyes shot around the room as though she had just woken up in a strange place.
“What happened to you, girlie?” Jermaine asked.
“M-M-M-Multiplier. He bit me.”
Jermaine laughed. “No, there’s no way a Multiplier bit you, honey. We’ve got a contract. We’re not allowed to bite.”
Derden was staring at the girl’s neck. “I’m not so sure, J. This looks like a Multiplier’s work.”
“It is a Multiplier’s work!” shouted McCoy. “Don’t play stupid!”
Jermaine examined the wound. “Where is this Multiplier, then?” he asked. “What did the Multiplier look like?”
Her answer sent goose bumps up Asa’s back. “Dirty,” she said. “He was a dirty man. Sticks in his hair. Smelled awful. Breath like stew.”
Teddy and Asa shared a discreet, knowing look.
“Well,” Jermaine said. “If you’ve noticed, none of us are dirty. All of the Multipliers here have a dress code—we’d never be seen with sticks in our hair.”
“I don’t think this Multiplier was from here,” Brumi said.
Jermaine’s face turned ugly: “There aren’t Multipliers outside of the Academy, so it must’ve been from here. Tell me this is a joke!”
Brumi shook her head. Tears were falling onto her exposed torso.
“We’ve got to kill her,” Derden said.
“What?” asked Brumi.
Jermaine stared at Derden for a moment. “I want to sort this out first,” he said. “There aren’t Multipliers outside of the Academy, this little twit is lying to us!”
“It’s the rule,” Derden responded. “We’re supposed to kill a Multiplier bite victim immediately. We’ve already disobeyed. We’re not supposed to interrogate like this.”
“Then how will they find out who did this? I don’t want to catch heat for this!” Jermaine said.
Teddy was crying. A female a few rows down from Asa was sobbing intermittently. The sounds echoed through the stone room.
“They’ll run an investigation,” said Derden. “You’re going to catch heat for it if you don’t kill her. Give me the gun.”
Groans went through the students in the seats. They shifted where they sat, unable to be still and watch.
“PLEASE! NO! NO! PLEASE!”
Asa couldn’t get the image Brumi in those final moments out of his mind. Her eyes wide, and she was begging so fast at the end. She stuttered and twitched, and Asa saw in her eyes that she would do absolutely anything for them not to kill her. But, they did, of course. Derden pushed her to the ground, backed up, and shot her. He didn’t want to get human blood on his suit.
From there, the students were expected to continue on as though it was a normal day. Teddy had to make another trip to the nurse to get more nasal tampons because of his nosebleeds. Asa thought that they were stress-related.
Stress isn’t the right word, though, he thought. It’s not strong enough. I think his nosebleeds are agony-related.
The next class was vaguely named “Science Class,” and was taught by a wiry haired man named Professor Stern. Professor Stern had a thin mustache, and talked quickly. He spoke of quantum physics, gene mutation, and chemical biology, moving from one subject to another without pause. After the first hour and a half lecture, Asa still didn’t know what the class was concerned with. He sat in the room, and typed out notes from what Professor Stern was saying, but he couldn’t mentally keep up with the topic changes, or understand the science-intensive material. Teddy entered class halfway through with his nasal tampons in place. Asa made a mental note to ask Teddy to explain what the Professor was talking about at a later time.
Next, they had “Responding to Medical Emergencies,” which was taught by Benny Hughs. Benny had won the Winggame Season Most Valuable Player award last semester. Now he was a graduate and was already teaching students. It felt odd to Asa that Benny Hughs was now an Academy professor, but it was the natural order of things.
The class rolled along for an entire four hours. Benny (who wanted to now be addressed as “Professor Hughs”) spent the first half-hour outlining what the class would cover this semester (which was techniques on advanced first aid, guided by the Academy’s mutation knowledge; They would learn how to use Academy engineered gene manipulating serums to treat health emergencies), and the rest of the time telling stories. His stories always began with “When I was a student…,” as though it were years ago, instead of just a month.
Asa let his thoughts drift away from the classroom in this period, wondering if the Multiplier that had bit Brumi was one of the ones he had encountered in the woods. If a non-Academy Multiplier bites someone, is the contract my father made broken?
The thought had him on edge all class period. If it was true, he could expect Multipliers to barge in, dripping black, and bite some of the students and kill others. Multipliers, as Conway had explained to Asa, had a limit on how many people they could Multiply in certain time periods. They were biologically engineered to only be capable of changing one person every thirty days; after that, their black saliva would dry up for one moon cycle. If they wanted to take over the world, as Asa believed they did, they would have to kill many more than they changed, because of this limitation.
But, if an all-out Multiplier attack ever did come, Asa suspected that they would change him, instead of killing him. He believed that this action would satisfy some disturbed urge of the Multipliers to get back at his father. Asa’s father had made the contract that prohibited Multipliers from Multiplying while either Asa or Charlotte were in the Academy. If the Multipliers broke this contract, genetically engineered crows were instructed to deliver letters to news stations and government headquarters that revealed damning information about the Academy, such as the Academy’s whereabouts, their objectives, and their past actions. It was believed that if the Academy fell, there weren’t currently enough Multipliers to take over the world before they were eradicated. The outside world would fear Multipliers, and try to destroy them, if they ever found out about their existence. For the time, Multipliers were dependent upon the Academy, just like a parasite relies on a bigger, more independent organism. He could imagine Volkner getting an intense satisfaction in Multiplying the son of the man who had been so against Multipliers having the freedom to Multiply at will. Asa thought that Volkner would want to do the deed himself.
I haven’t seen Volkner yet this semester, Asa realized. He brushed it off as coincidence.
The class went on without incident. Asa was the first student out the door when it finished, and he began a quick flight over to Conway’s cabin. I have so much to tell him: The monkeys, the polaroid, the Multipliers in the woods, Gill’s letter, Brumi being bit…
He was relieved to see that the cabin’s chimney was puffing out blue smoke as he neared it, a sign that Conway was home. What will he say? Asa wondered. He did not discount the possibility that Conway might tell him to leave the Academy, or that Conway would want to go with him. There seemed to be sufficient evidence that a Multiplier uprising was imminent. Things were changing.
Asa landed with a crunch of snow in front of the door. The windows were drawn with thin yellow curtains. From within, a soft glow emanated with the shadow of a Christmas tree projected upon the window.
Asa felt a pang of longing in his chest at the sight. The
symbol reminded him of gone times when his mother would make cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. She would sit in a bathrobe on the couch with her coffee, her hair a mess, and watch Asa unwrap gifts. The time was just a memory now. After she died, Asa had learned that no amount of wishing or crying into his pillow or begging into the dark night could bring her back. No amount of desire could let him return to those Christmases, those mornings before school, or those birthdays. Even if he begged for only ten seconds of his mother’s embrace, sadly, it just couldn’t happen.
Not wanting to be alone with his thoughts anymore, he approached the door and was about to knock when a sound began to hum out from inside the cabin. It was rich, deep, fast and mathematical; someone was playing a piano inside.
Asa was very surprised. He had no idea that Conway could play piano, and from the sound of it, he was very good. He had always imagined Conway as a bit cold, and practical to a fault. This kind of hobby was not consistent with the schema of Conway that Asa had built in his mind.
Not wanting to interrupt, he simply turned the knob and stepped inside.
The cabin smelled of cinnamon and burning dust. The front door led to an initial, sprawling living room and kitchen combination that took up most of the home’s square footage. A hall penetrated the back wall, with three doors lining the hallway; all of these doors were shut.
Asa’s first thought upon opening the door was of his previous guesses at how Conway’s cabin would be kept; he had thought that the place would be sterile, neat, and purely functional. Asa did not conceptualize Conway as a person to be attracted to the idea of having many things inside his home. Instead, he had imagined that every item inside of the man’s cabin would have a purpose, or it would be thrown in the trash. Conway’s pragmatic nature made Asa even question whether or not the man would tolerate wall art. Asa immediately saw that he had been wrong.
This place is eccentric.
The Christmas tree was so packed full of ornaments that the branches bent with the weight. There were the usual ornaments, such as silver and gold balls, a fat Santa Clause sitting in a sleigh, religious ornaments, Snoopy sleeping on his red doghouse, plastic icicles, ceramic birds with flapping wings, Homer Simpson, and many elves. Then, there were unconventional tree decorations, including rusty forks hanging from twine, a bathtub plug, wine glasses, keys of all sizes, and, the biggest ornament of all, an industrial sized metal trashcan lid. It looked like the Christmas tree of an insane person. The tree was wrapped in enough lights to decorate a small house. A miniature train was rolling along on a circular track surrounding the tree.
