The men exchanged looks, unsure how to respond. The same man who had yelled out stepped back and attempted to leave. Aedan hobbled over and blocked his way with his crutch, wedging it in the door well.
"You have my loyalty," the Doña stood up and spoke.
"And mine," Dr. Bartnev joined her.
“And mine,” Stefan spoke up, the first of the crew.
The men exchanged looks again, and a few tentative hands extended into the air. A few men said, “Sí.”
"Anyone who does not join us, can leave, no questions asked." I eyed the man who had yelled at me.
"Wait, Coyle. Let me speak." The Doña walked up next to me and rested her hand on my shoulder. She addressed the men, "you may leave, yes, but know that you will always be watched for we cannot afford traitors. Stay and be taken care of. Leave, and you are no longer a member of this family. Coyle will treat you right, I know him to be an upstanding young man, wise beyond his years. You have no reason to fear him." The Doña’s hand tightened on my shoulder. She held on to her power.
The man remained in the room. Remembering one of the leadership books I had read during my training, I made a mental note to get to know that man. My leadership had to be based on personal relationships if I was to be effective.
“I want you men to rest. We’ll have no missions for a few days. After we eat together, go home, be with your families, and then come back ready for a different type of work.”
“Coyle, unfortunately with all of the hullabaloo I haven’t had an opportunity to make anything,” said the Doña.
“Not a problem, I think I remember some of the lessons you taught me, and Jamie is a fantastic cook. We’ll help.” I looked to Jamie. She nodded and grabbed one of the aprons hanging near the door.
I walked over to Aedan. “Wanna help?”
“Ha! You know I’m a terrible cook. I think you three can take care of it.”
“Could you mingle with the men then? Get to know them. Some of them will likely be your bodyguards.”
“Nice, I’ll pull out my high school Spanish to impress them.”
“You do that,” I said and patted his back. “Good to have you free again.”
“Hey, where’s Talon?”
Oh, crap. I completely forgot about our clone friend. I looked around for Dr. Bartnev and found him standing in front of the pantry.
“Dr. Bartnev, how is our captive?”
“He alive, but not recovered, not like you.”
“Can you take me to him?” He agreed, and I told Jamie I would return to help with dinner in a moment. The Doña had already started chopping fresh chicken for enchiladas.
Dr. Bartnev led me down a hallway I had never entered before. We walked to the end, and he extracted a key from his pocket and opened a large steel door. The sight of Talon lying unconscious on a thin gurney in a cold bare concrete room nearly brought a tear to my eye. Dried blood caked the floor around his bed. The chill in the room couldn’t be helping his recovery. I walked to his side and pulled down the sheet off his chest. Neatly sutured bullet holes littered his chest and abdomen. Dang you, Tigre. I thought. Tight metal shackles bound his arms to the sides of the bed.
“Can he wake up, now?”
“I keep him sleep. Too painful. Manuel not allow anesthetic.”
“Let’s give him some now.” Without hesitation, Dr. Bartnev took out a syringe from his pocket, hooked it up to the hub, and then depressed the plunger. He then took out another syringe and repeated the task.
“He wake soon. He fall asleep in five, ten minutes.”
After a minute, Talon’s eyelids slowly opened and closed. He winced as he adjusted on the bed and struggled against the restraints.
“Hey Talon,” I said while pulling the sheet back up over his wounds. He groaned and opened his eyes. A look of relief spread over his face when he recognized me.
“Coyle.”
“Good to see you awake, man.”
“Yeah man, you too. I woke about an hour ago, but the pain … I passed out again.”
“I know dude, Manuel kept that stuff from you. He’s a freakin’ monster.”
“By you coming here I’m assuming you took care of him?”
“Did and done. We’ve got control.” I grinned. Power seems to breed happiness.
“Some help I was.” He cast his eyes down.
“Don’t worry about it dude. They shot you, over and over. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“It wasn’t supposed to go down like that. That guy, Tigre, didn’t even give me a warning. Just pulled out his gun and started shooting. Your buddy Manuel had to rip the gun out of his hand to stop him. By that time, he had pumped me with five or six rounds.”
“They’re both monsters, but they’re taken care of.”
“Did you kill them?” He smirked.
“Should I have?”
“You’re weak that way, Coyle. But, at least you’re human.”
I didn’t know what to say. Was that an insult? Is a clone a human anyway? I didn’t feel like pondering my existence, so I changed the subject. “Roxanne and the team can come now, I know they’re listening.”
“Roxanne’s saying they will come in a few days. They’ve got a couple things to take care of.”
“No, rush. Besides, looks like you’ll need some more time recovering. We’ll move you out of this cell.”
“Coyle, sorry.” He grasped my arm and gripped tightly.
“For what? Talon, you did your part. If you hadn’t given me that beat down I wouldn’t have gotten the sedative and this plan wouldn’t have worked.”
“Glad I could be of service. I’ll knock you out anytime.”
I laughed, and he grinned. “Talon, what did you mean when you said I was the chosen one?”
A dark look crossed his face. “It means Somatotech believes you should be the chosen replicant.”
“Replicant?”
“Did you ever see Blade Runner?” I hadn’t and shook my head. “Somatotech seems to have borrowed the name. It’s, well you, are a template for all future clones because you were so successful. Your cells and DNA are the purest of any clone to date. They’re free of the small mutations which caused Roxanne’s photosensitivity and my … ” His voice choked up. “My problem.”
I almost opened my mouth to ask him about it but thought better.
“Medital believes Somatotech is beginning mass cloning production using you as a template.”
“But they don’t have me, how can they use me?”
“We’re not sure, but they have sure ramped up their stock of the equipment needed for operations.”
If I was so valuable, why did they let me free into society after the treatment? Why not keep me there and use my body?
Talon’s eyelids drooped, and he yawned.
“Aight’ dude, I’ll let you rest. If you need anything, just let Dr. B know. He’ll take good care of you.”
“Thanks …” He slipped back to sleep.
Dr. B and I walked back to the kitchen. Laughter emerged from the table where Aedan and a group of the men sat. Apparently, Aedan had unleashed the few Spanish phrases he knew, which mainly consisted of swear words and talk of poop. The men were rolling with all of it. Jamie and the Doña worked in tandem at the stove, smiles on their faces as well.
“What can I do?” I asked them. They looked at each other and then at the growing pile of dishes at the sink. “All right, but my skills are being seriously misused.” They chuckled and returned to cooking.
I stood at the sink for a moment and then turned around. Jamie smiled at me. Aedan laughed like a wild hyena at the table. The Doña hummed a tune while she worked. A foreign feeling washed over me. Happiness. I felt happy. For the moment, I could forget that I’m a clone, that there is a company that wants me dead, that my dad is under their control, that my girlfriend has one of their implants, and that I almost got both of my friends killed. At that moment, my mind released the darkness, grasped the happiness, and he
ld it close. Tomorrow the worry and stress would return, but for that moment, I felt dang good.
After the meal, the men left with instructions to return in two days. Many approached me and shook my hand as they left. The Doña, Jamie, Aedan and I remained at the kitchen table, chatting, laughing. I had my arm around Jamie when she started shaking again. Her eyes rolled up in their sockets, and her arms pushed against me. I let up slightly, not wanting to hurt her as she pushed against me. Saliva whipped from her mouth as she thrashed, flinging it onto all of us.
“I’ll get the doctor,” said the Doña as she stood up.
Aedan jerked up off the table and looked dumfounded. “Dude, what’s going on?”
“It’s the implant Somatotech put in her; it causes seizures. She should be okay soon,” I said, hoping it would be true. Just then, my stupidity hit me like a slap to the face. I had her cook at the stove, the hot as hell stove! What if she had seized and fallen on it? She could’ve burned her face off, not with the acid Manuel had threatened with, but the outcome and regret would be the same. I had to take better care of Jamie. That happiness I had held onto seemed to dissolve away into the reality of the situation.
Just as Dr. B. came into the room, Jamie’s convulsions slowed and then stopped. She came to, and instantly her cheeks blushed.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” she asked, with her gaze fixed on the table.
“Yeah, but I had ya.” I gave her a squeeze, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close.
“Will you always have me?”
Could we be together forever? Right then I wanted to ask her to run away with me, just abandon all of this crap. Then we could always have each other, away from Somatotech, from the Hacienda, away from the pain. But, with that implant still in her we had to stay put until Dr. B. could remove it, or she would stay under the company’s thumb. Jamie wouldn’t want to leave her family anyway, and for the moment, I kinda liked being in charge, so I dropped the thought.
“I hope so, but Jamie, I can’t keep making promises I’m not entirely sure I can keep. The road we’re on is so…uncertain.” Especially if she finds out, I’m a clone.
18 Daddy Daddy
“Can I call my dad now?” asked Jamie. The Doña had suggested we all move outside on the back patio for some fresh air. We watched as the sun began to drop, casting varying hues on the foothills and clouds.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” I looked over to the Doña.
“You’ll need to leave the premises. None of our phones contain GPS, but providers can triangulate with the cell towers. Make sure you are at least ten miles away. If you encounter trouble out there, call this number.” She showed me a number on a small piece of paper she pulled out of her bra. I memorized it instantly.
We fetched one of the cellphones from the map room, and Stefan showed me to the garage containing my beloved car, Bucky. The garage door clanked open revealing my first love. The men had painted it, added ground effects, lowered it, fixed the doors, and done work under the hood but Bucky retained her shape and character. Jamie could’ve gone through the passenger side door now that it worked, but she entered on the driver’s side, like good ol’ times. We drove toward Castle Rock with my arm around her. Silence felt more comfortable at that moment.
“Coyle, pull the car over. Now, please. Hand me the phone so I can call Somatotech,” Jamie calmly said and removed my arm from her shoulder.
I looked over to her, stunned. She grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it to the right. I slammed on the brake pedal jerking the car to a stop right before we slipped into a ditch.
“Hey, what’s going on with you?”
“Hand me the phone, Coyle. Somatotech can help us. Let them make things right, alpha male.”
“Jamie!” I grabbed her face. “Come back to me, c’mon!”
“Let go of me, Coyle. Somatotech warned me you would hurt me,” she said, her voice monotone.
I looked around, trying to figure out why now, why at this point Jamie had fallen under their control? Up on a hill outside of Castle Rock stood one the 5G towers Roxanne had visited. She had told me, “bring Jamie here, it will help, I promise.” It hit me. These towers must be transmitting to the implants in Jamie and undoubtedly my dad as well. This is why Jamie had escaped their control while at the hacienda; it resided outside their range. Roxanne and her crew must’ve been testing each tower to see if it emitted the signal.
Jamie grabbed for her seat belt buckle with one hand and went to open the door with the other. I snapped down on her hand, holding it against the buckle and pressed down on the gas pedal. She pulled back and managed to open the door. I whipped the car around to get back into the safety zone, but Jamie had other plans. She leaned out the door and let her body go limp, flopping out as I barreled down the street. Only my grip on her hand anchored her to the car. I slowed, got a better grip on her hand, and pulled her in the car. Unfortunately, once in the car, her free hand slapped me over and over.
“Let me go!” she screamed.
A minivan pulled up next to us and started honking its horn. Her window came down, revealing a middle-aged white woman who obviously wasn’t happy with me forcing my girlfriend back in the car and holding her close while she thrashed at me.
“Pull over! I’m calling the police.”
Dang. Just what I needed, an angry soccer mom with a cellphone. I pressed down on the gas pedal hoping I could outrun her. Bucky jumped forward ahead of the van, just as the street went from four lanes to two. The slapping continued, but now, she held her fingers like claws, so her fingernails dug into my skin. I couldn’t let go of her hand or the steering wheel, so I just endured. The soccer mom behind me held her cellphone close to her ear, and she kept her eyes fixed on my license plate. Gratefully, the men had switched out the original plate, although I bet the one, I had, was off a stolen car.
Just as abruptly as it began, Jamie stopped her crazed slapping fit and slumped into the seat. Her body looked deactivated as if someone had flipped the switch to off. We approached a crossing street at seventy mph with the lady close behind me. I didn’t want her to see Jamie passed out, so I whipped the car onto the cross street and kept most of my speed. The woman didn’t have time to respond but did slam on her brakes, leaving a trail of rubber on the pavement. The street led up to an upscale residential area around Castle Pines Golf Course, where the speed limit was 35 mph. I hit eighty as the road straightened. The van pursued, almost out of view as I rounded a corner. My foot reacted almost instantly to the sight of a garbage truck stopped at a house, but it was too late. Bucky’s tires screeched but failed to stop us before slamming into the back of the truck. No airbags in ol’ Bucky. I held Jamie with one arm, but I couldn’t stop the momentum of my own head. I smashed into the steering wheel, opening a large gash on my forehead and crushing my sinuses. Blood began to stream from my forehead and nose as I tried to clear my vision. When I could see, the sight sent a shock of fear through my body. The back end of the truck had nearly taken our heads off; it extended into our front cab and had stopped a few inches from the steering wheel.
Jamie’s hand was bleeding, but I didn’t see any other injury. I unbuckled her and myself and tried the doors. They were wedged shut and wouldn’t budge. Blood kept streaming down my face, clouding my vision. I had to stop the bleeding before I did anything else. My shirt gave little resistance as I ripped it off and then wrapped it around my head as well as a piece on Jamie’s hand. Pain surged through my head when I cinched it down to tamponade the bleeding.
Jamie started convulsing in the passenger seat, her arms flapping wildly, spraying blood all over the place. I cupped her head to protect it from the hard surfaces. Someone knocked on the driver’s side window, but I didn’t look away from Jamie.
“Hey, are you OK?” one of the garbage men peered into my window. I continued to protect Jamie’s head. “Do you need help?” He tried the driver’s side door, but it had jammed shut.
Tires squealed in
the distance, and I knew the woman would be there in under a minute. I took a second to analyze our options. Jamie was in no shape to run, and I doubted I could carry her without detection through this neighborhood. I could steal that pissed-off woman’s car, which may give us a big enough jump on the police, but then I’d have to incapacitate her. Another option could be run and hide in the neighborhood until the scene cools down. I looked at the garbage men peering into the car. Could they help me? Could I turn this around on that soccer mom?
I dove into the back seat and opened the door, cupping Jamie’s head from behind.
“Oh, crap! Dude, your face!” the other garbage man said as I stuck my head out from the passenger side door.
“I’m all right, but there’s a crazy woman chasing us. She almost ran us off the road back there.” I motioned to the street with a quick nod. “She’s pissed I dumped my cheating girlfriend, you know, her daughter. So, when she saw me with another girl, she went all nuts on me, saying things like I had kidnaped someone!” I rubbed my head. “That’s why I was driving so fast. I’m so freakin’ sorry about your truck.”
“Nah man, that’s no problem; this thing’s a tank. But, your car is destroyed. And you man,” he paused while staring at the blood streaming down my face, “You gotta get to the hospital.”
“That doesn’t matter; we just gotta get out of here. That lady is gonna kill us. Can you help us?”
“Well, what do you want me to do?”
“Can we hide in there?” I pointed to the hopper on the garbage truck.
“No way. Too dangerous.”
“It’s only until the coast is clear, till that woman leaves. You gotta help me, man.”
“You can’t go in the hopper.” He examined the truck. “But there is a space just in front of the compressor where you both could fit.” He glanced through the window and saw Jamie convulsing. “Is she OK?”
“She has epilepsy; the crash probably brought it on. She’ll be OK in a couple seconds.” Sure enough, Jamie stopped shaking and started to come to.
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