Ritual Dreams

by Hadena James

  “I don’t eat eggs, I don’t think I have any.” I answered.

  “No, Ace, your eggs, your female eggs. Trevor and I had been looking for a surrogate before you came into our lives. We were going to use his sister as a surrogate and her eggs, my sperm. We both want kids. Then you showed up and Trevor decided your eggs would be better than his sister’s. We’ve talked about it a lot, but if you don’t want to we will understand and we will continue with our original plan.”

  “Lucas,” I stood and looked at the big man. There were tears in his eyes. “I’m a psychopath, a full blown psychopath. Regardless of which sperm gets used, the kid will have half the genes to end up as a psychopath. If you or he either one carries the other half, you could end up with a psychopathic child.”

  “We know and we’ve been talking to your mom about what it’s like to have a psychopathic child. We would still prefer to take the risk with your genetics. But if you say no, that’s it, it’s done. We will never bring it up again.”

  “Okay, you’re right, I am going to have to think about it.” I said. “I don’t doubt that you will both make great parents, I’m just not sure I want to pass my genes along to a child and hobble them right out of the gate.”

  “Fair, just think about it. If you need a year or two to think about it, that’s fine. But really think about it, Aislinn. We actually think your genes are pretty great and should be passed along. Look at Cassie.”

  “Yeah, but Kyle is showing some symptoms of psychopathology.”

  “I know, but don’t let Kyle be what dissuades you. He’s a pre-teen, he may grow out of it, all teens and pre-teens have symptoms of psychopathy. What I’m getting at is if you decide you don’t want to do it, don’t do it for your reasons, not because your brother might have a psychopathic son.”

  Twenty-One

  I politely kicked Lucas out of my room and then I sat down on the bed and thought. Why hadn’t I just automatically told him no? It was an insane idea. But some small part of me wondered what my genes would be like in a different generation. Would it be a girl? Would she be blonde or brunette? Would she be a badass?

  I tried to push that thought away. We were on a case. I had important things to think about. Real things to think about. Durant was dead. Where was our killer going next? Who else had wronged them? Their mother.

  But their mom was spending a long time in prison, so she wasn’t a viable target. Who else? I didn’t know and thoughts of not being a parent while passing along my genes crept back into my brain. I struggled to push them away again.

  At four in the morning, I was outside on my balcony again, chain smoking and texting my own mom. She knew about this. She had to know about it, if Trevor and Lucas had talked to her about what it was like to have a psychopathic child.

  She texted me back and I called her, deciding text wasn’t personal enough for this conversation. We talked for about thirty minutes. When we hung up, I could tell my mom was okay with the idea. She hadn’t come right out and told me I should do it, but she hadn’t told me not to do it either. Of course, she was not a neutral and uninterested party. Trevor and Lucas lived across the street from us and Lucas was an orphan. I had no doubt my mom would get to play grandmother to their child. I was positive she had drawn the same conclusion and my mom did enjoy being a grandmother.

  Their maternal grandparents were dead, but were their paternal grandparents also dead? I didn’t know. I texted Gabriel and Kimberly with the question despite the ungodly hour. If not, I felt that could be their next target.

  It took about three minutes for Gabriel to come outside after the text. He leaned over the balcony and looked at me. He sighed and I heard a lighter click.

  “Why aren’t you asleep? Why are you thinking of grandparents at this time of the morning?”

  “It’s,” I stopped myself. “I hate complications.”

  “Ditto.” Gabriel answered.

  “Did you convince Lucas he was being a selfish jerk about the NSA job?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. Maybe they can get back to normal.”

  “Maybe.” I agreed.

  “Well that was a strange sounding agreement. What’s on your mind?”

  “They want me to donate my eggs to them.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Exactly. They have a surrogate to carry it.”

  “Regardless of what you decide, you should feel honored.”

  “I feel confused.”

  “Yeah.” Gabriel’s hand suddenly appeared on my railing.

  “You better have a room key with you.” The hand disappeared.

  “That got you thinking about your mom being a grandparent to a kid that technically she wouldn’t be a grandparent to.”

  “Yep, which made me wonder where our killer’s grandparents are. I mean I know her maternal grandparents are dead, that’s why the family has so much money. Why’d they go live with a maternal aunt instead of their father’s parents or their father’s siblings. It would seem likely that the paternal side is less crazy. If anyone is still alive on their father’s side, I could see that person being blamed for not rescuing them.”

  “You have a point.” Gabriel responded. Both our phones dinged. It was an unknown number to me. There was just an address.

  “We should either go ourselves or send someone over to guard them.”

  “I’m probably not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

  “I’ll send someone, you should try to get a few hours at the very least. It could be a busy day. Are you leaning more towards yes or no with the Lucas thing?”

  “My instincts are telling me no. The selfish part of my brain keeps saying it would be fine and they would probably want my mom in their kid’s life, which would be nice for my mom.”

  “Yeah, Lucas doesn’t have a mom to spoil the kid, youryour mom would be a nice stand in.”

  “Yeah, I have to stop thinking about it.” I said.

  “Yeah, I need you to be able to concentrate.” Gabriel said. “If you tell them no, they’ll understand.”

  “I know. But I’m not sure I want to tell them no. I mean it took a lot for Lucas to ask and I think it would make them happy.”

  “Would it affect you at all? That is the real question. I mean what happens in ten years when the kid starts asking where they came from, because obviously Lucas and Trevor are not the sole biological donors in that situation. Are you three going to tell them the truth and admit that you are the female donor?”

  “Ugh.”

  “Yep.”

  “Those kinds of thoughts won’t help me sleep.”

  “Me either. Let’s go sit on the address. We’ll send a car to pick up the others after they wake up.”

  “Okay.” I dressed and met Gabriel in the hallway. We snuck out.

  All the lights were off when we pulled up the address, which was an apartment style community on a golf course. Gabriel and I tried to do some sneaking around and were caught by a security guard who wasn’t happy when we showed him our badges.

  It was an independent living community. There was a large swimming pool. A golf course. A game room. A cafeteria style dining hall. A nurse’s station tucked into a corner of the building, away from the hustle and bustle, as well as security guards. If I lived to retirement age, I wanted to live somewhere like this.

  Once we explained to the guards who we were and why we were sneaking around the place, they told us they were familiar with the situation to some degree. It was their paternal aunt and her husband living in the place. Apparently, their father had been significantly older than his wife, their mother. This aunt was on her third marriage and had been the oldest of the two siblings, she was nearly 70 years old. Ten years ago, she would have been nearly 60. Taking on a teen with problems would have been a challenge for anyone, but especially for someone that old.

  We were also told the aunt had lived in the community for nearly twenty years. She’d been fifty when she had her first stroke and followed
it with a second the very next year. She’d been living here since the second. Neither stroke had left her paralyzed or anything, but it had caused her to go blind in one eye and she talked slow. She had been in no condition to take over raising her niece. Although, when the niece was younger, she came over to visit every week. The visits had stopped when the aunt’s second husband had passed away five years earlier. The niece, didn’t like the new husband and accused him of being a gold digger, which was the consensus of the staff as well. He was older than the aunt by six months and had seven kids, none of whom he had raised or supported. He’d been a bit shady in his younger days and the security guard called him a conman more than once.

  The guard offered us coffee and to let us stay until she awoke and we could talk to her ourselves. We accepted the invitation to stay and Gabriel accepted coffee. The last thing I wanted was time to think, but I had plenty of it.

  After the sun came up, Gabriel texted the other three to let them know where we were. Lucas agreed it was a good idea. The aunt was a late riser it turned out. We were told she was awake around 9:30 in the morning. We went to talk to her to see if she had any insight she could share.

  Switching

  Amber spent a sleepless night on Mark’s couch. Mark was too fragile to watch the news broadcasts that might have shown her picture. She’d showed up and told him that she’d had a fight with her aunt about going back to the hospital. Every sound had made her jump. At any minute she expected the police to break down the front door and take her into custody.

  She’d been up sick most of the night, her stomach cramping violently. Caroline had indeed done something bad. Amber was having flashbacks of it. She wasn’t at all sure that it was Caroline, though, that had done it. She just didn’t know who else it could have been. Caroline was a prankster, not the type to cut off someone’s head.

  The sun had finally risen. She was going to go turn herself and Caroline in to Dr. Abernathy. But Dr. Abernathy rarely arrived at the clinic before 9 am. Meaning Amber had time to kill. Her stomach was too twisted and knotted for her to eat or drink anything. Instead she sat on Mark’s couch, her knees pulled up to her chin and gently rocked herself.

  Dr. Abernathy would understand. Of that, Amber was positive and Dr. Abernathy would help her. Especially now that she would be running the clinic. Amber had seen the news on her phone, Dr. Durant had been murdered.

  That was fine with Amber. Good riddance. The world didn’t need men like Dr. Durant. He was nearly as abusive as Amber’s mother had been. She stood and paced the living room, feeling trapped and sick again.

  Mark came in from the kitchen area of the apartment. He held out a can of 7-Up to her.

  “For your stomach,” Mark said stuttering. “I heard you up sick several times last night, maybe this will help.”

  “Thank you. Hey, I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you. I have to deal with another person in me.” She said taking a drink of the soda.

  “I know, you, Amber, have never been mean to me. Only Brexton has.” Mark told her.

  “Brexton?” Amber asked.

  “Yeah, Brexton. Caroline and Amber are okay, they can both be really nice. Martha can be mean, but really Brexton is the mean one.” Mark told her. “You are aware of Brexton, Martha, and Caroline, right?”

  “I kind of know about Caroline, but I don’t know the others.” Amber said.

  “Amber, do you know what’s wrong with you?”

  “I have a sibling who lives in me, because she doesn’t have her own body. It causes me to have blackouts. Her name is Caroline.”

  “Amber,” Mark looked at her for a moment then sighed. “Yeah, but Caroline isn’t your only sibling, Brexton and Martha are also your siblings.”

  “I used to have two sisters and a little brother.” Amber sighed. “But they’re all dead now. I guess Martha, Brexton, and Caroline replaced them after they died.”

  “Maybe.” Mark smiled at her. “Yeah, that could be why Brexton, Martha, and Caroline exist.” Mark said.

  “Is Brexton my brother?” Amber asked.

  “I don’t know, I don’t know if Brexton is a boy or a girl. I’ve only met Brexton once, he came by one night and threatened to kill me if I didn’t stop talking to you. But the next day, Martha told me I could talk to you again.”

  “Oh,” Amber said. “Well thank you for letting me stay here last night. I need to go talk to my aunt and then I need to go see Dr. Abernathy at the clinic.” Amber gathered the few items she had with her and left.

  Amber was finally asleep when the Uber driver pulled up in front of Mark’s building. She had considered walking, but she didn’t know the area well enough to walk from here to the community where her aunt lived.

  “900 Main Street,” Brexton said entering the car and confirming the address they wanted to go to. Brexton felt refreshed. Brexton had slept while Amber paced and threw up. There was really nothing Brexton could do for her. Amber was just going to have to process the flashes of memory as best she could.

  Brexton got out of the car at the main entrance and headed towards the door. The Uber driver was slow about leaving and Brexton wasn’t sure why. They stopped before pulling open the door and Brexton called his aunt.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Hi, Aunt Maggie, it’s Amber. I was going to come see you today, would that be okay?”

  “Of course, Amber, I would love to see you. I have an appointment this afternoon, do you know what time you think you’ll be here?”

  “Now, I’m already outside,” Brexton said and yanked open the main entrance door.

  “Down on the ground!” A woman and man were shouting at Brexton after he’d only taken about three steps into the building. They had guns drawn.

  “Fuck,” Brexton shouted as they dropped to the ground.

  “US Marshals, SCTU,” the man who had bright red hair said as the woman walked towards them.

  She was petite. Brexton went to jerk their arm away from her and then decided against it as they felt the scars on the woman’s hands. Internally, Brexton realized this was not a woman they wanted to mess with. They’d seen her before on the news. They’d seen the redheaded man too. How had they figured out that Brexton would come here?

  They weren’t sure, but somehow they figured it out and here Brexton was, trapped. Brexton blinked.

  “Hickory, dickory, dock, the mouse ran up the clock,” Martha said in a high pitched sing song voice. “The clock struck one, the mouse ran down, and infected the occupants of the house with plague as reward for their service to Satan.”

  Twenty-Two

  “Holy shit,” I said to Gabriel after their voice changed. I don’t know if I had still considered it unlikely that the personalities were different enough that it changed the voice and the facial expressions. It was startling. The accent which had a Bostonian lilt was replaced by a higher pitched somewhat nasally voice that had no definite accent. This voice was decidedly feminine as well. The other hadn’t been.

  And the other was exactly who I’d been talking to when they walked through the door. The killer personality, the other, the one whose identity we didn’t know.

  “Martha?” I asked.

  “What?” She responded.

  “Who walked in here?” I asked. “I just want the name.”

  “That was Brexton. Brexton is very angry and will not like that you interrupted the plan.”

  “I am used to that,” I told Martha, slipping my handcuffs onto her wrists.

  “I bet,” she answered.

  “So, you use Brexton to kill people.”

  “Not exactly. Brexton wants to kill people. I was just helping find people that deserved to die. I wanted to stop what happened to Melissa from happening to anyone else. But I made a mistake and I lost control of Brexton.”

  “What about Amber and Caroline?”

  “What about them? We were doing it as much for them as for Melissa. Using Brexton to kill, meant that Brexton was happy with the n
ormal day to day of our life and Brexton didn’t force Amber or Caroline to the background permanently.”

  “Can Brexton do that?” I asked.

  “I think so. Brexton got stronger after Dr. Durant tried to integrate them.”

  “Martha, you’re under arrest, you realize that, right?” I asked.

  “Yes, Amber was going to turn us in today anyway. She was up sick all night because she thinks Caroline killed someone. She only decided to come here because Brexton can whisper to her and Brexton wanted revenge against Maggie because Maggie didn’t try to get custody of Melissa or her siblings.”

  “Brexton didn’t care that Maggie wasn’t in a good enough physical condition to take care of Melissa and her siblings?”

  “No,” I answered for her. She nodded in agreement.

  “What happens to us?” She asked.

  “Probably a hospital for the rest of your life.”

  “I think that would make Amber and Caroline happy. They didn’t like leaving the hospital the first time.”

  They were loaded up into a police cruiser to go to the station. Kimberly came into the main hall. She was smiling.

  “Good thing you guys were here.” She said to me. I shrugged. “About ten minutes before she showed up here, we got a call from a guy reporting she was headed to her aunts and had spent the night on his couch. I guess they are in a support group together that concentrates on reinforcing deprogramming of children that survive cult life.”

  “Yep, good thing.” I said.

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “She didn’t get to shoot anyone.” Gabriel said. “The capture was all very mundane and easy. She is usually disappointed when that happens.”

  “Come on, I’ll buy you all breakfast before you go home,” Kimberly said.

  “Thanks, I’m still not a breakfast person.”

  “You can come guzzle soda while the rest of us eat breakfast. I’ll be glad to get a good night’s sleep tonight.” She said.

  I agreed to that and we got the rest of the team and headed to breakfast. Peter West joined us about the time our food showed up. Lucas didn’t glare at either him or me. I felt like maybe progress had been made, at least a little bit of progress.