“Putting yourself out there seems risky, Coyle,” said Aedan.
“True, we already stirred the pot. They’ll be on alert, but Roxanne and her crew are quite skilled—” I said while opening the front door. I shut my mouth. Jamie stood in the hallway, obviously waiting for us, or actually, me.
“Coyle, can we talk?” she asked.
Stefan and Aedan split to their respective rooms without a word, leaving Jamie and me alone in the hall.
“Of course, wanna go somewhere?”
“Let’s go to the kitchen.” She turned and waited for me to lead. I walked past her, and she wrapped her arm around mine. Have things changed?
We sat down across from each other at the island.
“Coyle, you probably thought your dad was sleeping, but actually he and I have been talking. He feels terrible about everything that’s happened. He blames himself. I told him it’s not his fault, that it’s the company that has brought this pain on us. That’s when I realized it, you know when it finally clicked. I can’t blame you anymore. Sure, you do some stupid stuff but, when it comes down to it, your fight should be my fight.”
“You don’t have to fight. That’s my job.”
“I may not fight with my fists, but I can fight with my voice. I’m still alive and mostly well, despite what that company did to me. That threatens their control and should come to light. It could be so powerful! I can spread the light of truth; I know that’s what my dad would want me to do.”
“I completely agree, as long as I can keep you safe.” I grasped her hand and squeezed gently.
“Safety isn’t something we can rely on right now. But, if anyone can protect us, it’d be you. You’ve done so much for us.” She cast her eyes down and started to sniffle. Her hair drifted in front of her face, obscuring her tears. I slid close to her and slipped the bangs from her face, tucking them behind her ears, exposing now flowing tears. Her eyes beamed up at me, and she made no attempt to wipe away the stream that smeared her eyeliner. Those eyes! Full of trust despite all I had put them through. Her eyes, bloodshot but beautiful had witnessed my transformation and the destruction that followed. From a scrawny skater, clone, reluctant killer, and now expectant savior, did she really trust me after what I’d put her through? My heart didn't even trust the person locked inside. I had killed people. I wished I could say they were all clones, clones without families or feelings, but I knew it wasn’t the truth. And what did it matter whether they were clones? I’m no different than them, I thought.
"What is it?" She didn't blink. She knows me too well; I'm not one for silence. I looked down at my hands, and my own tears wetted the palms. These hands had broken bones, ripped skin and pulled triggers. People have died because of these hands. My victims probably had kids. Kids who would now know that pain I held inside from my mother’s passing, or rather, Coyle’s mom’s passing.
The thought made my legs weak, so I leaned into Jamie, resting my head on her shoulder. She responded in turn, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. I let my arms hang limp beside me, dead like those I had killed.
“Jamie, I’ve done some terrible things.” I clenched my fists together. Her hands slipped down my arms and wriggled her fingers into mine.
"We need to see my dad. I think he can help, help us both."
“That would be so dangerous, Jamie.” I sniffled, keeping my now running nose at bay.
“It’d be worth it, I promise,” she urged.
“Nothing can change what I’ve done. Your dad can't take it away, the pain I’ve caused. My hands are stained with so much freakin’ blood."
"No man can. But, maybe he can help you deal with it," she said, and she leaned in to kiss my cheek as the last tear slid down.
Did I even need forgiveness? Is there some tally in the heavens keeping track of my evil deeds? Deeds done by a clone? Is there a god anyway? Is Santa real? How could a God let his power of creation slip to evil men? Coyle’s mom's face flashed before my eyes. Her compassionate eyes, kind to all, and full of purpose. Her face beamed understanding, not guilt. Of course I needed forgiveness, maybe not from God, but from someone. I know the pain I’ve caused. Maybe I did need the pastor?
“We’d need a location where only he can go, and where we can sneak into.”
Jamie smiled, excited at the possibility. “My dad’s been invited to the Denver Seminary before.”
“Isn’t that an evangelical seminary?”
“My dad has friends in all religions. He’s kinda non-denominational.”
“What kind of security do they have?”
“After the attacks on the Vatican last year, most religious places have followed suit and ramped up security.”
“But, then how do we get in?”
“Coyle, you’re ridiculously smart. You’ll find a way.” She jabbed me in the side.
“That’s what people keep telling me. I’m surprised my head hasn’t exploded.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” she came in close and ruffled my red hair before kissing my lips with a quick peck and then retreated slightly. She told the truth. Her presence grounded me, kept my vision clear and focused on those around me.
“We’ll call him later, but right now I’m cooking for you and Coyle’s, I mean, my dad.”
“Mmm… mac and cheese,”
“C’mon! I’m a better cook than that!” I said and squeezed her tighter.
“Just keeping your head from exploding.” Our lips met again, and our hearts seemed to intertwine. This must’ve been what Coyle felt during his time with her. I loved this girl. Too bad someday I’d have to let her know she’s not kissing her real boyfriend.
We both walked to where the Doña had made Coyle’s dad comfortable.
“Hey, Mr. Murray, wanna come eat some of Coyle’s home cookin’?” Jamie said as we came in.
“Hmm, it may be the chip in my chest talking, but I don’t remember my son cooking.”
“A lot has changed, Dad,” I said and turned away, not wanting them to see the lie on my face. How can I go on like this? Knowing that everything I do with these people perpetuates the lie?
“Everything OK, Coyle?”
“Yeah! Let me get my cook on!” I feigned a smile.
We all walked back to the kitchen together. Jamie wrapped her arm through my dad’s, escorting him. My dad smiled and accepted, pulling her in. These are good people, I thought.
In the kitchen, I whipped up the only dish I knew how to make, aside from mac and cheese, huevos rancheros. They weren’t half bad! Both Coyle’s dad and Jamie cleaned their plates.
“Coyle, your mom would be proud of you,” he said, as he passed me to put his dish in the sink.
“Why do you say that?”
“Mom was a very principled person and she stuck to those guns. You, fighting the company she felt principally against, would make her proud. She began the fight you will hopefully finish.”
“What do you mean she started the fight?”
“Before she died, your mom told me that there was something she couldn’t tell me. She said she’d started a report that would bring to light to a scandal of epic proportions.”
“A report? Did you ever see it?”
“No, I assumed it was destroyed by the fire with her computer.”
“Dad, why did you deliver me to them if you knew Mom was going to expose them?”
“I didn’t know, not exactly, she never mentioned that Somatotech was the company. When treatment stopped working, when you were dying, I…I got desperate. It wasn’t about you anymore, it became about me, about what I was going to lose.” He turned to Jamie. “Your dad, I don’t blame him, but he encouraged me to go with them. I’m sorry, Coyle, but I couldn’t let you die.”
“I know it pains my dad as well,” said Jamie, placing her hand on Coyle’s dad’s shoulder.
“The past is in the past, Dad. I’m alive because you acted. I’m grateful for that.” I placed my hand on his other shoulder. A barb of pain s
tung my heart from lying to this guilt-ridden man. “But now, Dad, I’m more interested in the report Mom wrote. Could she have made a copy? Is there another computer she could’ve saved it on?”
“She never told me, but she backed up all her lab data on a server at the University. If she did make a copy, it’d be there.”
“Good to know, Dad! We’ll have to get into that server. Do you know her login? Never mind, they probably deleted her access shortly after her death. I’ll get in another way, shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Coyle’s dad stared at me intently. I turned away from him to quell the building uneasiness.
“You’ve changed, Coyle.”
“Oh?” I said keeping my head turned.
“You have a confidence I’ve never seen before. I’m proud of you son.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Well, thank you for the tasty eggs, son. I’m getting tired, so I’ll leave you two here. Don’t stay up too late.” I turned back to him, and he grinned.
“I’ll be in before curfew, I promise,” I said and stood to give him a hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and squeezed my shoulders.
“Good night, son,” he said, his eyes glossy.
The Doña entered the kitchen just as dad was leaving. They smiled at each other and nodded slightly, but passed each other without a word.
“Why don’t you two head out to the patio, I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“No, Doña we can’t leave you with this,” said Jamie.
“I insist.” She looked to me and lifted her eyebrows.
“We’ll go,” I said and grabbed Jamie’s arm. I knew not to argue with the Doña.
Jamie practically skipped down the hallway toward the patio. I followed behind with a goofy smile on my face. It’d been too long since we could just be boyfriend and girlfriend.
The Doña had placed a single padded patio chair near a bustling fire in the pit. Jamie jumped into the seat and held out her hands toward me. I squeezed in next to her and slipped my arm around her shoulders.
“I’ve missed this, Coyle.”
“Me too.”
Jamie and I sat outside on that porch in front of a dying fire for what seemed like a few minutes and a few hours all at the same time. Glowing embers and the occasional snap remained, lulling us into a deep relaxation. Our eyes seemed locked on the light and warmth as we stared together. Jamie snuggled deep into my chest as I leaned the chair back. Her eyes drooped and then closed. Mine weren’t far behind, and we both slipped into a love-laden slumber.
The instant I lost consciousness, someone or something pulled me into a dream. I knew the feeling; it was similar to when I had controlled my other. But now the person I’d gone into couldn’t move his limbs. His eyes shot open beyond my control. A searing light shone in his eyes, and I finally gained slight control, managing to squint. I couldn’t see clearly, it was as if an opaque filter had been placed over my eyes. All I could make out were fuzzy silhouettes against the bright light. A line of people or beings stood in front of me, not facing me, but looking ahead at each other’s back. Their profiles looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite make them out.
That’s when it happened: the connection, the feeling I had with my other. I could feel it again in my mind, but this was stronger, more direct, and expansive. The light grew in front of me. I squinted my eyes down even farther, but the light continued to grow in intensity, so I shut them completely. I could feel connections with many beings, their essence was my essence, and their mind was now my mind. There were so many of them, maybe thirty or forty, all together. I focused my mind on them as a group and found little resistance in their minds, but my mind strained to force them. I focused harder, but my head began to throb. I felt something warm drip from my nose as I continued to impel my mental faculties. Finally, something in the link clicked, I passed through a threshold, and my mind broke through their minds. I opened my eyes I could see that the beings had lifted their arms, silhouetted by the warm light. I pushed again with my mind, and their hands came together in a perfectly timed clap. Who are these beings? Why can I control them?
I had them take a small step forward and then a jump backward. Just as I was attempting to make them walk towards me, a shot of electricity traveled down a wire that seemed to be attached to each of the beings. They jerked back in unison with the jolt and then slumped forward, suspended by the wires attached to their backs. I tried to force the message to walk at them, but the connection had dissipated.
Someone began speaking behind me, “Congratulations Coyle, you've finally done it. You’ve finally realized what we all hoped you'd accomplish, neural dominance without the need of implants. We knew you’d stumbled onto something quite extraordinary with your control of AM2, but now! Now you’ve tapped into an entire batch of clones! And, you’ve shown us how to do it.” Someone grabbed me and spun me around. A group of men stood in front of a desk laden with equipment. I still couldn’t make out their faces, but I knew that voice. Dr. Tessel towered before me.
“We’ve missed your contact, Coyle, but we had to wait for our clones to mature before we could let you in. And in you came just as predicted! I knew you couldn’t resist the power. You probably want to talk, to tell us how much you hate us or want to kill us. But, Coyle, you should feel privileged to participate in this groundbreaking research. Think of it, Coyle. Now we take a soldier, clone him hundreds of times and send them into war with the original controlling all of them from the comfort of a domestic base. Limitless supply with absolute control, we’d have the perfect army.”
A man walked over to me and lifted an opaque visor off my face. He instantly came into focus. Dr. Tessel, the snake. His wrinkles had deepened since the last time we had had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting. His menacing grin remained unchanged.
“Ah, that’s better.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea, Dr. Tessel?” said a man behind him.
“I think it’s important this boy meet the geniuses behind our discovery.”
He stepped out of my field of view to expose four men in white coats. Two of them I recognized from the treatment period, the one with a British accent and the other a deep husky voice. A thick brown beard covered the British man’s face, only interrupted by puffy lips. The one with the husky voice had a strong jaw line and tall forehead making him look quite Frankensteinish.
“Welcome back, Mr. Murray. We’ve met before,” said the man with the British accent. His lips curved in a menacing grin.
The other two men cast their eyes down and scooted behind the other two, hiding their faces. One of them peeked out from behind the British scientist. His nose seemed to take up much of his face on which his thick glasses rested. He made eye contact, and he retreated behind him.
“You’ve probably wondered why we haven’t done more to find and kill you. Why did we allow you to continue your tirade with that criminal crew? This,” Dr. Tessel motioned around the room, “this is why. We needed time to develop our technology, and then all we needed was your help. Now that you’ve helped, we’re going to kill you and everyone you know and love. Oh, well, actually, you’ll kill everyone.” He spun me around to face the clones. They turned in unison to face me. Twenty perfect copies of me, or rather Coyle, stood naked before me. Their eyes were closed, and they breathed in a steady unison.
“Coyle Murray’s twin will go down in history as the most gruesome and exacting mass murderer in history. A true domestic terrorist.”
I heard a slight click from behind me as if someone had pressed on a mouse. The clones’ eyes snapped open and focused on me. They took one menacing step in my direction, then stopped. Their glare bored into my heart, which already had begun to race wildly. I could feel the sweat building on my forehead. I needed to break the connection; I had to get outta there. But my mind wouldn’t let go, it held on to the connection tightly as if it were locked. I couldn’t leave.
“Trying to leave we see,” said Dr. Tessel, while s
pinning me around again. “We’ve analyzed the brain waves of the clone you’ve taken over and can now tell when you’re strengthening or breaking the connection. Also, we’ve copied the signals you’ve sent to these clones. We now can control them just as you had. Try and control them now, Coyle.”
If I can manage to control them, I can kill all of them right now and end this nightmare, I thought. I focused on the group but now found a solid mental block. I tried to find a way around it, but my mind found no openings. My mind felt trapped within an inescapable mental cage.
“Now we have control, and we’re coming for you,” he said through clenched teeth. “Take a look at who you’ve connected with.” The British man slammed a mirror before me. A severed head suspended from a clear platform stared back at me. Tubes channeling blood entered where my neck should’ve been, and my spinal cord dangled below in a pink liquid. If I could’ve vomited, I would have. It was alpha male two, my other, or at least part of him.
“As I’ve said before, we’ve great plans for you, Coyle.” He waved goodbye. “You can go now, but we’ll see you and your adopted family very soon. Sweet dreams, you little punk.” Spittle flew from his mouth.
With another click the mental block holding me captive disappeared. I severed the connection and jumped up with a start, pushing Jamie off my chest.
“Hey!” she yelled as she caught herself with her hands before splaying out on the ground.
“Sorry, Jamie, sorry,” I said and pulled her up to the bench.
“Bad dream?”
“Nightmare of the worst kind. I connected again.”
“What? I thought your clone died and, with him, that connection?” She swiped the hair out of her face.
“They pulled me into him somehow, but, uh, he wasn’t exactly alive.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It was just his head. They’d cut off his head and revived him somehow. They also have a ton of clones that look just like me. I controlled them, all of them at the same time. But, that’s just what they freakin’ wanted. They analyzed the signal somehow and now they know how to control them as I can. They’re gonna release them to wreak havoc on everyone we know.”
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