BB and Red

by Stephen Lomer

  “Ah. True,” the warden said. “But assault with a deadly weapon does not.”

  All of the blood drained from Stan’s face. “Assault—”

  “You had poor Fred in quite the stranglehold, too,” the warden continued. “Might even call that kidnapping with intent to murder. Either way, you have several witnesses who heard you threaten to kill him. So I’m afraid . . . you’re not going anywhere.”

  The warden turned and headed toward the outer door, where a long line of orange jumpsuits had formed. The guards fell in step with him.

  “But,” Stan said, his voice barely a whisper. “But I was just . . . I was just trying . . .”

  The guard slammed the outer door shut with a hollow clang, and bolts shifted loudly as he locked it.

  IX.

  BRAINS AND GUTS

  Romeo paced restlessly.

  He knew they needed to escape, and soon. And now he had an idea about how they were supposed to do so.

  He approached the bars and pressed his face against the cold metal. “Lima?” he whispered. “Are you there?”

  After a few seconds, the whispered reply came back. “I’m here.”

  He could picture her in his mind’s eye, her face pressed against her own bars, her lovely brown eyes searching, watching, making sure they weren’t overheard.

  “I think it has to be tonight,” Romeo whispered.

  “What?” she hissed. “Tonight? Romeo, that’s crazy. We don’t have a plan. We don’t have anyplace to go.”

  “New York,” he replied instantly, as though he had been anticipating her protests. “To start. I have family there. They’ll help us.”

  “Why didn’t you mention your family in New York before now?”

  “It’s . . . a long story. Look, they’re not going to like the idea of taking us in, especially now, with what they’ve done to us, but they’re still family, and they’ll help us.”

  “Okay,” Lima whispered, but she didn’t sound convinced. “That takes care of where we’re going. Now how do we get out of here?”

  “Joanne,” Romeo said simply.

  “Joanne?” Lima replied. “The lab tech?”

  “Yeah,” Romeo said. “I’ve been talking to her a lot lately on the way to and from the sessions. She’s sympathetic. I think if we ask, she might help us.”

  “She’s not going to help us. Do you have any idea how much trouble she’d be in with Doctor White if she did? After all the work he’s put in to enhance us?”

  “She’ll help us,” Romeo said confidently. “I know she’ll help us. She’s due in to take our vitals at two. I’m going to ask her then.”

  “Why the rush, all of a sudden?” Lima asked. “Why do we have to escape tonight?”

  Romeo paused.

  “Romeo?”

  He sighed deeply. “I overheard Joanne talking to Doctor White yesterday,” he said heavily. “White still has a ways to go with me, with enhancing my intellect, but he’s reached the end with you.”

  “And what does that mean?” Lima asked anxiously. “‘Reached the end’?”

  “It means his next step will be cutting your head open to see what’s what.”

  Romeo heard Lima’s sharp intake of breath.

  “And I have no idea when he might be planning to do that, but the sooner we get out of here, the better,” Romeo said. “So tonight.”

  “All right,” Lima said shakily. “Let’s try it.”

  An hour later, Joanne held up her keycard and beeped her way into the holding area. She carried a clipboard and wore a white lab coat with a stethoscope around her shoulders. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail.

  “So,” she said brightly from the other side of the bars. “How are my two favorite subjects tonight?”

  “That’s all we are to you?” spat Lima. “Subjects?”

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry, Lima,” Joanne said awkwardly. “I—”

  “Lima’s just a little on edge,” Romeo said quickly. “How are you, Joanne?”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” Joanne said. “A little tired. These overnight shifts are tough.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine,” Romeo said. “Still, at least you have the place pretty much to yourself, right? Not like during the day.”

  “Oh no, this place is a zoo during the day,” Joanne laughed. “I much prefer the night shift.”

  “Fewer guards then?” Romeo asked. “Less security?”

  “Well,” Joanne said, her smile faltering. “Yeah.”

  “I need to ask you a favor, Joanne,” Romeo said, pressing his face once again against the bars. He paused, and then glanced sideways. “We need to ask you a favor.”

  “Okay.”

  “We need you to help us break out of here,” Romeo said baldly. “Tonight.”

  “Oh,” Joanne said, hesitant. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t—”

  “Yes you can,” Romeo cut across her. “You know what’s next for Lima if Doctor White has his way. And then how long before he takes a bone saw to my skull to see what his enhancements have done?”

  Joanne stared at Romeo, then at Lima.

  “Look around you!” Romeo hissed, gesturing to empty cells all around them that lined the outside wall of the lab. “How many have already died at his hands?”

  “Doctor White is trying to make life better for everyone,” Joanne recited. “It requires certain sacrifices—”

  “There you go, Romeo,” Lima piped up. “We’ve been upgraded from subjects to sacrifices.”

  “Sacrifices,” Romeo echoed. He nodded his head toward the empty cell next to his. “Sierra was a sacrifice. Victor was a sacrifice. Charlie. Juliett. How many more, Joanne?”

  Joanne stared at the floor.

  “How many more?” Romeo shouted, pounding the bars. He could see the guard outside the lab turn his head slightly toward the sound, listen for a moment, and then return to position.

  Romeo dropped his voice low again. “Please. You’ve got to help us get out of here.”

  “I—” she began, and then cut off. After a long few moments, her eyes still downcast, she nodded her head.

  “You will?” Romeo said, unable to believe it.

  “Yes,” Joanne said. “Okay. But if we get caught . . .”

  “We won’t,” Lima piped up. “We won’t. Joanne, thank you.”

  “Okay,” Joanne said, looking around. “Let me think about this for a second.”

  She crossed the lab and peered out into the hallway beyond. Most of the lights were out because of the late hour, and shadows crossed the ceiling and walls. The lone guard stood at his post.

  Joanne crossed back to the cells, digging out a key ring from her lab coat pocket. She unlocked Lima’s cell and then Romeo’s, swinging the doors wide. They both stepped out hesitantly, as though expecting the doors to slam shut again.

  “Here’s the plan,” she whispered to the two of them. “I’ll get rid of the guard, and then I’ll key you to the cafeteria and into the kitchens. There’s a window they always leave open because it gets so hot in there. The window leads directly out to the grounds. From there, you’re on your own.”

  Romeo and Lima nodded enthusiastically. Joanne pulled out her cell phone and smiled. “Be right back.”

  She ran out into the hallway, her eyes fixed on the glowing screen in front of her.

  “Carl!” she cried to the guard, running up to him. “Carl!”

  “What?” asked the guard.

  “I just got a text about a shooter in the building!”

  “What?” said Carl. “Where?”

  “East wing!” Joanne cried, working up some sudden fake tears for effect.

  “Find cover!” Carl commanded, already sprinting in the opposite direction.

  As soon as he was gone, Joanne used her key card to reopen the lab door and gestured for Romeo and Lima to come out and join her. They did, and Joanne led the way down the dimly lit corridor.

  They turned left, and Joanne used her key card to open
the door in front of them. She checked that the coast was clear and gestured them forward. The trio turned another corner and were within sight of the cafeteria when a loud klaxon split the silence of the hallway and bright lights began flashing.

  “They know something’s wrong!” Joanne shouted over the din. “Come on! Hurry!”

  They dashed through the empty cafeteria and flew through a pair of double doors and into the kitchen. Joanne pointed to a small window just above the stainless steel sinks. The window was open, but small, and set very high in the wall.

  “Here!” Joanne cried, lacing her fingers together in a cradle. The alarm continued to wail and shouted voices were approaching.

  Joanne boosted Lima up first. She scrabbled to catch hold of the sill, but was able to pull herself up and out. Then she boosted Romeo, who pressed his stomach to the ground outside and wriggled through the opening.

  Lima and Romeo both turned to Joanne. “Thank you!” they said together.

  “Go!” Joanne shouted.

  Romeo and Lima took off running across the dewy grass, steering clear of the pools of light cast by the streetlights that circled the main parking lot. They ran across a main access road and into a darkened copse of trees, and both paused, breathless, to look at one another and smile.

  “We did it,” Lima said.

  “We did it!” Romeo repeated, a huge smile on his face.

  “So,” Lima said. “Which way is New York?”

  “North,” Romeo said simply. “Come on, let’s see if we can hitch a ride.”

  They emerged from the trees right out onto a darkened stretch of highway. They didn’t even see the eighteen-wheeler bearing down on them and they were crushed in an instant under its wheels.

  The driver never even slowed.

  They were only lab rats, after all.

  X.

  STONE’S THROW

  Every night. The beautiful man with the torn-out eyes stared at her every night.

  It was partially her fault for being such a creature of habit. The subway cars were long and not all that crowded, so she could sit wherever she pleased. But she always chose the same seat, right across from the ancient, yellowing poster from the modeling school, with the beautiful man’s eyes long since ripped away by street punks with switchblades and nothing better to do with them.

  The car rattled and clanked its way along, and the familiar stops came crackling out of the rusty speakers in the ceiling. Sanford. Reighton Hills. Ordway.

  She pulled her purse in closer to her body and closed her eyes for a moment. Which was perfect timing, because the golden butterflies were finally home from school and they desperately wanted her to play the tuba for them. She was so sorry to tell them that she left her tuba in her soapbox derby racer last summer, but she’d be happy to recite the poem she wrote for parents’ day when she was in fifth grade. None of it mattered, she was late for the parade, and parades only came through Pittsburgh in May. Was it May? No, it must have been early January because the frosting wasn’t sweet enough . . .

  The jolt of the subway car stopping woke her with a terrible start, and as she looked around, a hot drop of fear spread from her stomach to her fingertips. How long had she been asleep? She had no sense of time or distance.

  The car was completely empty. She could see the vague outline of an unfamiliar subway stop through the grime-covered windows.

  A terrible panic swept over her. This wasn’t her stop. She’d never slept past her stop before.

  “Where am I?” she asked in a strangled whisper. The beautiful no-eyed man said nothing.

  She rose unsteadily and peeked her head out of the car. The subway station was unnaturally clean and there wasn’t a soul in sight. There were also no signs to tell her where she was, nor any maps to tell her how to get back.

  Then out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the figure of a young man at the furthest end of the platform. He was hunched over his phone and his face glowed white-blue from the screen’s light.

  She reached into her pocket and grabbed her keys, jamming the longest and sharpest one between her fingers. He was too far away to tell if he looked like trouble or not, but if he decided to give her a hard time in this place, he was going to get the business end of a hard key punch.

  “Excuse me!” she called, making her way toward him. He made no sign of hearing her. As she got close, she saw he had earbuds tucked deep into his ears. She released her keys back into her pocket and waved her arms in a wide arc. “Hello? Excuse me. Hello?”

  The young man noticed her and tugged on the cord to pull his headphones out.

  “Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but . . .” Her words trailed off. She knew this young man. His face was intensely familiar. Where did she know him from?

  It came to her in a rush. It was the no-eyed man from the poster, but with both eyes intact and in the flesh. What in the world were the odds that it would be him on a deserted platform in the middle of God-knew-where?

  She regained her composure. “. . . but . . . I was wondering if you could tell me where we are.” The young man’s brow furrowed in confusion, and then he looked around as though he was just noticing the subway platform.

  “Oh. Um, I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you,” he said in a low voice.

  “Not . . . not supposed to tell me?” she repeated, bewildered. “Why not?”

  “Because of that,” he said, pointing back the way she’d come. She looked over her shoulder, but there was nothing but the stopped subway car and the abandoned platform.

  She turned back to him with the words “Because of what?” on her lips, but the young man was gone. Vanished.

  A wave of unreality washed over her. She looked back at the platform. Because of that, he’d said. She strode purposefully back toward the car she’d emerged from, determined to figure out what he’d been talking about.

  She reached the spot just outside the open doors of her car and looked around. There was nothing to see. No hint of where she was or what was happening. Her chest constricted and she felt hot tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.

  Then she heard it. A soft, low note coming from back inside the subway car. She turned and stepped cautiously toward it.

  On the seat where she’d been sitting was a small golden butterfly, and it was playing her tuba.

  XI.

  LITTLE RICKY’S NIGHT OUT

  In the gleaming white plaza just outside Throb, the most popular strip club on Xazlorix III, teleporters crackled with energy as species from across the galaxy beamed in for an evening’s entertainment.

  Out of one of the teleporters stepped Zac, a good-looking young man who was a few days away from tying the knot. From the next teleporter down came Dylan, Zac’s best friend and shortly-to-be best man.

  “Well? Are you excited?” asked Dylan.

  Zac pulled his gaze down from the stars beyond the clear dome above and looked up at the pulsing lights and holographic ani-women streaming across Throb’s marquee.

  “I can’t believe it,” he said. “This place is legendary.”

  “Hell, man, they don’t call Xazlorix III the Planet of Decadence for nothing,” Dylan replied gleefully. “Besides, how could I do anything less for my boy’s bachelor party?”

  Zac smiled. He was looking forward to the greatest night of his unmarried life.

  “Well?” Dylan asked, rubbing his hands together. “What are we waiting for?”

  The two of them moved toward the club, but after only a few feet, a woman’s voice called across the plaza.

  “Zac?” cried the voice. “Zac!”

  Zac and Dylan turned to see Zac’s mother, Linda, emerging from one of the teleporters with Zac’s much younger brother, Ricky, on her hip.

  “Oh God,” Zac whispered.

  His mother ran over to them.

  “Hello, Dylan,” she said distractedly.

  “Mom,” said Zac, horrified. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m sorry,
honey, I know it’s your bachelor party, but I need you to take Ricky for me.”

  “What?”

  Linda handed the toddler over before Zac could protest. The child cooed and waved his hands around.

  “Well, the radioactive meteorite season started early this year and your father needs my help adjusting the crop shields,” Linda explained.

  “But Mom!”

  “No buts!” Linda cut him off. “Now you take good care of your brother, and I’ll see you at home. Not too late.”

  She quickly kissed Zac and Ricky on their cheeks and then hurried off to a vacant teleporter. In a flash, she disappeared.

  “Great,” Zac said as Ricky squirmed in his arms. “Just great. Now what?”

  The two of them looked around, as though a solution would materialize out of thin air, and then Dylan seemed to have an inspiration.

  “Give him to me,” said Dylan. “I have an idea.”

  Dylan took the gurgling Ricky on his hip and led the way toward the club. A massive creature, a human-gorilla hybrid, stood guard as bouncer. He spotted Ricky and put up his huge hand.

  “Sorry, fellas,” he grunted. “No one underage allowed.”

  “Underage?” asked Dylan, feigning confusion. “Oh, him! No, he’s from Octagus. They age backward there. He’s seventy-three. Surely that’s old enough, right?”

  He gave a big, exaggerated thumbs-up. The gorilla man cottoned on, pulled out a thumbprint scanner, and pressed it to Dylan’s thumb. Credits exchanged.

  “Oh, of course,” the gorilla-man said, tucking the scanner back into his pocket. “Octagus. I see it now. Go on in, boys. Have fun.”

  Zac and Dylan sat in a round booth at the back of the massive club. The ceiling was clear, offering a spectacular view of local stars, planets, and nebulae. Multi-spectral flashing lights floated by and upbeat music thumped while waitresses—some humanoid, some robot, and others gelatinous—circulated around the floor.

  Despite the fun to be had everywhere they looked, Dylan and Zac were both abjectly miserable. Zac looked to his left and watched little Ricky, mesmerized by the flashing colors, holding his left foot in one hand and attempting to eat all the fingers off the other. There was drool on his chin, and he looked impossibly small in the high-backed booth.