Reverse

by Steven Tandberg

  “But now you led Manuel’s men right here?”

  “We have many hideouts, Coyle. We can sacrifice one to get you on board.” He continued down the shaft. “Not that we really need you.”

  At the end of the shaft, we found a ladder, which led to the building above. We climbed out into the basement floor among huge metal tanks and ventilation fans. Talon led us up an inconspicuous narrow staircase tucked behind one of the tanks. We ended up on the ground floor and in the front of the factory. A faint sound of a hatch opening deep below emanated from one of the pipes, probably from Roxanne and the men escaping.

  “All right, how we gonna do this?” I turned to Talon.

  “Now that I know you can’t die, I’m thinking I may practice some of the moves I’ve been learning.” He smirked.

  “Whoa, wait—” Talon landed a roundhouse kick to my face before I could finish. The blow threw me to the floor, and my head smacked on the ground. He ran toward me. I raised my hands in front of my face. “Hold on! I need to get their attention!” I screamed, and he stopped a few steps away.

  “Oh, yeah. Good point.” He slid to a stop and then swung his arm out, motioning to the warehouse we’d left. “Yell away.”

  I wiped the blood off my lip, rubbed the back of my head, and stood up. I walked over to a window facing the warehouse and opened it.

  “Manuel! Help! I got one of them. Come quick!” The men from the alley whipped around to face the window. One of them raised his radio and radioed Manuel.

  “Good enough!” Talon yelled as he flew through the air leading with his feet. I shifted to the right but not before his feet made contact with my right shoulder, sending me into the window, which shattered into thousands of pieces. Shards of glass cut deep into my skin. Since I had incapacitated my right hand with our earlier skirmish, I swung with my left arm, connecting with his right cheek. He hardly flinched and returned my strike with a jab to my injured right shoulder, deepening the gashes left from the glass. I nearly collapsed to the ground from the pain but managed to stumble backward and out of his reach.

  “C’mon dude, just knock me out! Why are you so effin pissed at me?” I yelled and spat out the blood pooling in my mouth.

  “Just showing you you’re not that special despite what they all say.”

  “What do they say?”

  “That you are the perfect clone. They say you have no afflictions, not a single cell out of whack. They’ve called you the freakin’ chosen one. But, I think it’s bullcrap.”

  “I don’t know where they’re getting their info, but I have plenty of problems.”

  “Yeah, you don’t know how to fight.” His fist came at me with blinding speed, literally. I could hardly see it before it collided with my face and snapped my head back. Lights out.

  10 Progress

  My eyes struggled to open as my mind regained consciousness. The unconscious haze lingered even after my eyes opened. Where was the Russian water technique for waking an unconscious patient? When my eyes focused, I saw that I lay in the examination room alone. Dang, I thought. Where did they have Dr. Bartnev? And for that matter, Talon? I was unconscious when they apprehended him; maybe they seriously jacked him up or even killed him.

  I sat up and let my blood level out in my head before hopping down off the table. My pants and shirt lay on a nearby chair, so I threw them on. Someone had stripped the room bare. No instruments, no medications, not even a stethoscope. I walked over to the door and tried the handle. No surprise. Locked. I knocked, and one of Manuel’s men came to the door. Another one stood behind him.

  “Has despertado, bueno,” he said. I gave him a look of “I don’t understand.” “You’re awake. It is good.” Thank you for a few more Spanish words, I thought. “I let Manuel know.” He walked down the hall leaving the other guard alone.

  “Thanks,” I yelled out to him. I could have busted down the door, but what would that accomplish? Manuel would be pissed, and his men would probably try to shoot me. Although, I sensed a growing discontent among them, something was off. I knocked again, and the other man approached the door but didn’t come close. Smart man, he kept out of range of the door and my arms. The man looked to be in his thirties and had a clean-shaven face, unlike most of the guards. His searching dark eyes and careful stance indicated that this man took his job seriously. A professional.

  “I’m Coyle, but you already know that. What’s your name?”

  His eyes held a suspicious look for a moment but then relented as the awkwardness of silence grew. “My name is Stefan.” He rested his hand on his gun.

  “Stefan, do you fear Manuel?” His eyes darted to the floor for a millisecond, then returned to me. His hand tightened ever so slightly around his holstered gun, and his heart rate accelerated.

  “No, I do not fear. I trust him,” he said, but his physiology said otherwise.

  “That’s good. He seems to run a tight ship.”

  “Sí.” He looked away.

  “I haven’t seen you on the missions. Why don’t you come?” He kept his back to me, and his shoulders slumped a bit. “If they trust you to watch me, surely you could be useful on the missions, right?”

  “I’m useful, more than useful. But Manuel…” He paused looking around for others. “He doesn’t trust me out there.”

  “Out where?”

  “Out on the missions. I question too much, and he doesn’t like it. He trusts me here guarding you because we all see you as a threat. There’s no questioning.”

  It seems everyone either had it in for me or at least held me in contempt. “I’m no threat to you, Stefan. Someday you will see that. I’m sorry he doesn’t trust you, I know exactly how that feels. Unfortunately, with Manuel, once you are out of favor, it seems hard to return.”

  “Es verdad.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, wanting to learn.

  “That’s the truth,” he translated.

  “I hope to see you on the missions, Stefan. I could use you,” I said and stepped back to the examination table, letting my vote of confidence marinate in the mind of my new friend.

  “Open it. Manuel’s orders,” said Dr. Bartnev outside the door.

  Stefan unlocked the door, and it swung open.

  “You regular patient now. Feel OK?” he said as he extracted his stethoscope from his coat pocket.

  “There is nothing regular about me, Dr. Bartnev,” I said as I sat back down on the exam table. “You and I both know that.”

  “I mean, you back to regular. Feel OK?”

  “Yeah, like you said, I’m a miracle patient. By the way, what happened to the other guy, Jonas?”

  Dr. Bartnev’s eyes shifted to the door for a quick second. He lowered his voice, “He’s kinda miracle patient too. Shot many, many times by one of the men. He lives but down for many days. Down and out.”

  Crap, there went our plan to work together. “Who shot him?”

  “Tigre. Your friend attacked and Tigre is quick with a gun.”

  “Figures, Tigre hardly holds back with me.”

  Dr. Bartnev placed the stethoscope on my chest and listened for a few moments, then examined my face, pressing on my jaw and cheeks. “Regular, all regular. Very nice,” he said while folding up his stethoscope in his pocket. I could see the shape of syringes pressing on the fabric.

  I decided to press my luck. Dr. Bartnev did seem trustworthy; at least I knew Dr. Strayer trusted him. But, Dr. Strayer trusted Manuel and that sure didn’t turn out. Maybe Dr. Strayer didn’t necessarily trust him but knew he could keep me safe from Somatotech? Now we were anything but safe. Dr. Bartnev had to play along.

  “Dr. Bartnev, I need to ask you a question before Manuel gets here.”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond. He turned away from the door and faced the back of the room. I checked the small window in the door. Stefan stood with his back to us a few feet off.

  “Jamie and Aedan need to see their families. And, I uh, have a plan to make t
hat happen. But, I need your help.”

  “Great risk, Coyle. Talking to me and planning escape.”

  “I know it is, but I’m willing to do whatever I can to protect my friends. Dr. Strayer would want me to, you know that.”

  “Indeed. He was good person and friend.”

  “So, can you help me?”

  “He will kill me if I help you.”

  “He’ll never let anyone leave here if I don’t take him out.”

  “What you need?”

  “Only what’s in your pocket. Midazolam, at least two syringes.”

  His fingers toyed with the syringes in his pocket. Tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his eyes darted from me and then to the floor. I heard footsteps, Manuel’s footsteps at the end of the hallway about fifty feet away. Someone strode next to him, likely Tigre.

  “Just slip them to me as I stand up. If Manuel finds them, act surprised and I will say I pick-pocketed you, I’m a freakin’ genius remember? Surely I can pickpocket as well. But, it’s now or never. C’mon Dr. Bartnev,” I spoke rapidly but carefully articulated my words. Moment of truth. I stood next to him just in front of the table. My chest rubbed against his shoulder. He stood there frozen. Manuel’s footsteps approached the door. “Dr. B. Now!” He jerked his hand out of the pocket, syringes in hand and in plain sight of the door. I grabbed his wrist pushing it down and out of sight, and then lowered my hand over the syringes. His fist clenched tighter around them. “You better kill him,” he said, then released them into my hand. I slipped them into my pants pocket as Manuel opened the door. He and Tigre entered.

  “Touch toes now,” said Dr. Bartnev pushing on my back. I bent over, hoping the action wouldn’t depress the plungers and leak the precious drug all over my pants.

  “That’s enough. Dr. Bartnev, I’ve told you many times to not examine Coyle without me present. Please leave.” He motioned toward the door, then slammed his hand down on the table next to me. “¡Coño Stefan! You should know better. No one other than Tigre and me should be alone with our… amigo.”

  “Lo siento, Manuel,” Stefan called out from the doorway. His eyes drifted from the floor to me. I shook my head slightly and then glared at Manuel. Stefan shook his head in response.

  Dr. Bartnev eyed me then turned to leave. “He regular. Healthy, ready for missions,” he said before going through the door.

  Once Stefan and Dr. Bartnev retreated, Manuel turned to me. His eyes screamed mistrust, and he took a small step toward me. The distinct smell of coffee and cigarettes wafted in his breath. I stood my ground. Manuel fed on weakness, and I couldn’t let him win this.

  “¡Bién hecho muchacho!” he yelled as a broad smile crossed his face. I returned a confused look. “It means, good job boy! You finally succeeded. Even though you demonstrated your weakness, you were able to detain him until we were able to apprehend him. We’re very pleased.” He slapped my back.

  “Uh, thanks. How is he?”

  “He’ll survive. When he comes to we’ll extract the information we need although that might be awhile.” Manuel leaned onto the exam table. “So, what happened below the building?”

  “I fell through that door he’d opened. When I landed, he tried to knock me out by constriction but I wriggled loose. He meant to capture me; at least that’s what it seemed like. Once I broke loose, he freaked out and tried to get away but I followed him. In the other building, I caught him and knocked him out cold. That’s when I called for you. When I turned to the window, he attacked. There’s something seriously different about him; there is no way a normal person could wake from the blow I gave him.”

  “Different indeed. Reminds me of someone.” He grinned at me, apparently pleased with my false story.

  “You think he’s like me?” I acted surprised.

  “Don’t play coy with me Coyle. You and I both know he’s a product of Somatotech.”

  “He was quite strong, intelligent, quick, and frankly good looking. I can see the resemblance,” I grinned, and he chuckled.

  “Well, since the doctor has given you a clear bill of health we have a mission to complete.”

  “Can I see my friends before we go?”

  His grin disappeared. “We’ll talk after the mission.”

  11 Darkness Revealed

  The mission turned out to be a simple intimidation beating of a guy, although Manuel insisted I knock him out and then go back for a wallet the perp supposedly dropped. When I came back after a thorough and unsuccessful search, the guy I’d knocked out had disappeared. A pool of blood remained, staining the asphalt. I had busted his nose that had sprayed blood all over the alley, but this seemed too concentrated, too much of a collection. White chunks were scattered in the pool along with some hair. The hairs on my neck stood on end.

  “Where’d he go?” I said, my hands empty from the search.

  “He awoke and we delivered the message and let him go.”

  “I didn’t find a wallet or anything else for that matter,” I said while staring down at the blood.

  “Hmm, Tigre said he saw him throw it down back there. Not a problem. Let’s go.”

  I walked over to the car and noticed the back end sunk one inch lower than before. Sometimes our missions involved pickups and drop-offs, but Manuel hadn’t mentioned anything about this one. As I sat in the back seat, the suspension didn’t compress like before. Manuel and Tigre climbed into the car as routine.

  “That must’ve been some message, Manuel,” I said, feeling a bit squeamish looking back at the blood and tissue on the ground.

  “I believe he received it loud and clear,” said Manuel, while pulling the car out of the alley.

  “Is he OK?”

  “He walked away. Do we normally follow the punks to make sure they get home OK?” said Manuel to which Tigre chuckled.

  I didn’t respond.

  “We need to make a stop at the mortuary,” said Manuel.

  “Didn’t Somatotech shake down the restaurant and get info on you? That would make the mortuary a dangerous place to be, right?”

  “My people don’t snitch. Yes, Somatotech came sniffing and continues to do so, but no, they do not know about us… yet. Our scouts say the coast is clear, so we go.”

  Manuel drove the car into the back alley between the mortuary and Salsitas and placed the car in park. I left my seat belt on, not knowing whether they wanted me to come inside. Both Tigre and Manuel unbuckled and then stared at me.

  “Uh guys, all you have to do is say it. Do you want me to come in?”

  They looked at each other as if to say, “Well, we can’t leave him here.”

  “You’re coming inside.” Manuel turned to me. “You’ve proven quite useful and we’re beginning to trust… I mean believe in you, Coyle. But, you must stay where we put you.”

  We slipped into the alley door, and Manuel led me into the office.

  “Stay here until I come for you, OK.” Manuel slapped me on the shoulder, left the room, and locked the door behind him. Someone had repaired it after I had pulled it off its hinges when I came back from the dead.

  “Yes, sir!” I said and saluted him, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me.

  He passed the windows of the office down to the embalming room without giving me the slightest glance. I shuffled over to the wall and placed my ear on the wall. Spanish, all freakin’ muffled Spanish. I couldn’t understand a single word. The sound of metal rubbing on metal from the back of my room caught my attention while they continued to speak. The rubbing on metal stopped, and their voices became distant as if they had gone outside. I ran over to the window, looking out to the hallway, but the angle prevented any sight of the room. I returned to the wall. A loud thump emanating from the embalming room startled me. It was definitely something heavy, and from the sound of it, probably was placed on one of the tables. The trunk! Whatever had weighed down the car was likely on the table now. Another grinding sound came from the back wall of the room. This one lingered as
if someone was moving something large very slowly. Manuel and Tigre had stopped talking. Their silence got me thinking. This was a procedure, something they had done before, likely many times. The sounds again drifted away, but this time not toward the alley, but the back wall, the wall with the body storage cooler. The sound of something slowly moving returned and then all went silent.

  I continued to listen. About five minutes later the sounds returned although the rolling sound was now higher-pitched. Tigre and Manuel began talking again, apparently done with their task. They drew close so I returned to the spot where they had left me.

  “Whatcha doing in there?”

  “Taking care of business, which, in this case, is none of your business,” said Manuel. “And now, Tigre and I need to do some business in here, so if you would kindly follow Tigre to the other room.”

  Tigre opened the door leading to the hallway and motioned for me to follow. We walked into the embalming room, and he escorted me to the sliding metal door that exited to the alley.

  “You stay here.”

  “Right here?” I pointed to my feet. “Not right here?” I stepped to the side.

  He didn’t indulge me; instead he turned and left the room. I stayed by the door until he entered the office and shut the door.

  I ran to the wall and listened. I could hear Manuel and Tigre whispering in the office, so I took the opportunity to inspect the morgue once more. The body refrigerators took up half of the wall, extending to large posters hanging from the ceiling with life-size, human gross anatomy models. My eyes followed the posters down to the floor. A subtle arching scratch jutted out from the back wall of the room. I moved closer to investigate. The posters hung on a small rod suspended from the ceiling just off the wall. Looking closer, I could see two small breaks in the rod, making a small rod between the larger one that extended the length of the room to the back wall. I stepped over to the wall and moved the poster out of the way. Sure enough, similar gaps extended from the ceiling to the floor in the wall. I pushed on the wall. A slight click emanated from the far end, and the door recessed into the wall. It slowly slid, rotating out, rolling on a hidden wheel. I had heard that low grumble earlier. I hoped Manuel or Tigre couldn’t hear it from the office. Lights came on as I stepped down a ramp into the cinderblock room.