The Dystopian Gene

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The Dystopian Gene Page 6

by S. E. Meyer


  ◆◆◆

  “It's good news,,” the doctor explained as Margaret, Steven and Atticus all leaned forward in the adjacent waiting room chairs.

  Margaret shook her head. “How is this good news?”

  “Sara had a bad Fleishman's attack, but we treat that every day. We'll increase her treatments and she'll be fine,” the doctor replied.

  “Yes, but what about the other?” Steven asked.

  “The cancer? Yes, well, as I was explaining, that's good news too. It's not like years ago when cancer was a death sentence. It's treatable. Your daughter will be just fine with the right medication and proper care at a clinic. We already gave her the first dose of treatment and we'll discharge her in the morning.” The doctor smiled. “So, it's good news,” he repeated, “really.”

  “How are we supposed to afford something like that? The cost of treatments for cancer are astronomical.” Margaret said, still shaking her head.

  “I have nothing to do with that.” the doctor replied. “You can take that up with the billing department,” he explained and then turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Margaret called after him. “Can you at least give us an estimate of what the treatments will cost?”

  “I would be guessing, but regardless of the amount, it's a small price to pay for a guarantee,” he replied before exiting the room.

  ◆◆◆

  “You're taking the truck back,” Margaret ordered as they all loaded into her car.

  “But Margaret, honey,” Steven whined.

  “No buts,” Margaret replied.

  “Anna could get a job soon,”

  Margaret's face contorted into a twisted knot. “What are you saying? You would rather our twelve-year-old daughter go to work so you can keep your truck?”

  “She'll have to go to work in another four years anyway and help pay her share of the bills, like everyone else,” Steven explained.

  Margaret winced, the anger welling up inside her. “And she'll wait the four years, like everyone else,” she demanded through flushed cheeks.

  Steven saw by the look in his wife's eyes it was the end of the conversation. As they made it to their block and neared the driveway, Steven glanced over into Bob's yard. There, in the middle of Bob's driveway, was a brand new pickup truck.

  “That son of a bitch!” Steven yelled as he parked the car.

  “The truck is going back,” Margaret reminded.

  “But mine even has the new fancy rims,” Steven pleaded.

  “The truck's going back,” Margaret repeated as they exited the car and made their way into the house.

  “Fine, I'll do it tomorrow,” Steven replied, hanging his head like a scolded child as the family made their way into the kitchen.

  “Mom, will this help Sara?” Anna asked after disappearing for a moment and then returning to the kitchen. Margaret looked down at her daughter's hands to see what she was holding. “It's almost a hundred dollars,” Anna said, holding up a pile of crumpled bills with tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get Sara hurt mom, and it's expensive to see the doctor.”

  “Oh sweetie, that's so nice of you to offer your life savings,” Margaret replied. “But you keep that. It wasn't your fault. Everything will be okay and we'll be able to help your sister. She'll be fine.”

  “Okay,” Anna replied and then wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “Now, give me a hug, I'm off to work for a while with Atticus. Monitor your sister and make sure your father eats something before he goes to work.”

  Anna hugged her mother. “Okay, Mom.”

  Margaret and Atticus left the house, climbed into the car and made their way down the street without speaking for several minutes. Once the car had made it a few blocks from the house, Margaret made eye contact with Atticus. She raised her eyebrows. “We need to talk.”

  Atticus recognized Margaret's tone and stopped the car. They both exited the vehicle, lifted their phones from their pockets, and then set them on the car seat. Margaret spoke once they were several hundred feet away from the car. “Do you think Sara's condition has anything to do with Cornelius?”

  Atticus sighed. “I think anything is possible with Cornelius Cromwell. He could have had any of his cronies gain access to Sara at school or during regular treatments. In fact, I think it's likely if he's found out about our little group and what the twelve of us have been up to.” Atticus paused a moment and then gazed into Margaret's eyes. “It's time we find out who has betrayed us.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Anna’s Present

  Anna didn't see the car that pulled up next to her on the street as she stared at the pool of water between her shoes. She had been sitting on the curb for hours, grateful for the otherwise unwelcome deluge for washing away her tears as she mourned her losses. It wasn't the suspension that had her so distraught. Thoughts of the photograph, her mother, and Billy consumed her mind.

  Thoughts of Billy were always there, along with his spirit. Like a specter, he would appear in the fog of her bathroom mirror after a shower, or stare out from the mist on a damp morning. It was a comforting pain Anna would rather not lose. She cherished it. Held it close. The pain kept her alert, and her heart well guarded, tucked into an impenetrable wrought-iron shell.

  “Anna!” Charlie called again, pulling her from her trance. She looked toward Charlie's voice and noticed his car with the passenger door hanging open. “Get in here and out of the damn rain before you drown,” he urged.

  Anna sloshed towards him and flopped inside, pulling the door closed.

  Charlie looked into her eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I can't believe they put you on a suspension.”

  Anna could see the genuine concern in his eyes. She forced a smile and then wiped her nose on her sleeve.

  “I'll give you a lift home,” Charlie said, handing Anna a tissue.

  “Home?” Anna paused in thought for a moment. “No. Forget home, Charlie.”

  “You're soaked. You need some dry clothes.”

  Anna wiped her nose again and then wrestled with her long coat, tugging at the sleeves. “That's the thing about wearing wool. When it’s one-hundred percent saturated, it keeps eighty percent of its heating ability.” She wriggled free of the garment, dropping it on the seat behind her with a thud. “It also doesn't wick water, so I'm dry enough.” she explained, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and slipping a rubber band around it.

  “Then where are we going?”

  Anna decided, gesturing 'straight ahead' with her index finger. “I need a drink. Take me to the bar,”

  ◆◆◆

  “So what's going on? What happened today?” Charlie asked, once the pair had each ordered a beer and swilled down their first drink.

  Anna frowned, shaking her head. “We've known each other for almost two years right?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “We've worked every day together, side by side.”

  “Yes,” Charlie replied, still nodding.

  “I already know what you’ll say, but believe me, today was different.”

  “So what happened?” Charlie asked again before coaxing another long drink from his bottle.

  Anna spun her bottle, staring at the label. “This Lone Wolf guy, he told me that the computer drive in the dead reporter's leg was my mother's. And if I wanted to find out why she was murdered, I needed to take it. He also made it sound like he knew her, and the other men were after it too.”

  Charlie sat quietly, waiting for her to continue. He was a good listener, one thing Anna liked best about her partner.

  “I realize sometimes I try to connect dots that aren’t there with my mother's death, but damn it, Charlie. These dots were being connected for me.”

  “So you have the drive? Lets see what's on it.”

  Anna shook her head. “No, I don't have it. The Jim's at the office today wanted it too, but it must have fallen out of my pocket or something.” Anna’s eyes widened. “Shit, the old guy,” Anna
recalled, tapping Charlie’s arm. “Wait, there was an elderly man that bumped into me at the scene.” Anna reflected in thought while taking a drink. “Maybe he took it. Maybe that was the Lone Wolf himself!”

  “I doubt it. Probably someone working for him. He wouldn't expose himself like that, with street cameras, facial recognition, and audio surveillance.” Charlie took a long breath. “Do you want to know what I think?”

  “Probably not.”

  “I think one of the toughest criminals out there manipulated you. He's been impossible to track down. He knew you were there, how to get to you, and how to get what he wanted.”

  Anna shook her head back and forth in disagreement, but Charlie continued.

  “I think the Lone Wolf wanted that drive, and he did what he had to do to get it, without having to do it himself. You see? He used you, and your past, for his own purposes.”

  Anna tipped her head to one side. “I'm not so sure. There was something about him that seemed familiar.”

  “He tricked you, that's all it was. Some people are master manipulators. They become so practiced at it they could rival any doctor with a psychology degree. And if he wanted you to have the drive, why don't you have it right now?”

  Anna shrugged. “How did he know about my mother then?”

  “Anna, anyone could find out about your mom. It was a fairly public investigation.”

  “I guess, it seemed so real.”

  “He talked you into compromising your own crime scene. Now that's not the Anna I know. There are two things I can count on with Anna Wool. You aren't afraid to speak your mind, and you don't break the rules.”

  “I guess you're right.” Anna gazed into his hazel eyes, taking comfort in the familiar kindness and concern she found there. “I guess I need to let it go.” Anna finished her beer in several long swallows and then set the empty bottle down in front of her. “All of it, Charlie. I need to let all of it go. Mom, Billy, all of it.” The bartender nodded in their direction and Anna held up two fingers.

  “It's for the best. And letting go doesn't mean forgetting them. It means ending the witch hunt. And as far as Billy goes, it's none of my business, but sometimes a person needs a new nail to drive the old one out.”

  Anna grimaced. “I don't need to drive him out. I could never do that. I've had a genuine love, anything less at this point would be a disappointment. I would be settling.”

  Anna took the fresh twelve ounce beer in front of her and guzzled it down in as many seconds, slamming the empty bottle on the bar. She gestured to the bartender to bring two more as music played on the jukebox. “Whoa, slow down there hot stuff,” Charlie said with a smile.

  Anna nodded, blankly staring at the shelves of liquor behind the bar. “You're right though Charlie, I need to let it go,” Anna said and then grasped him by the hand with a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let's dance.”

  The after-work crowd swelled into the small tavern and the beer flowed freely. Anna wanted to forget her day. Forget the last six hundred days. Forget her mother's murder. Forget Billy. She welcomed the numbness the drinks provided and longed to drown herself in it. To climb deeper into the hazy euphoric recesses of what the alcohol offered. A convenient escape.

  After several hours of drinking and dancing, Charlie took Anna aside.

  “I have to work tomorrow, we‘re not all retired,” he ribbed.

  “Oh come on Charlie,” Anna complained. “How often do I go out to the bar?”

  “I can't remember the last time, which is all the more reason you should go home. You'll thank me tomorrow, I'm sure. Curfew's not far off anyway and I want to be home well before then.”

  Even through her impaired judgment, Anna knew Charlie was right. “Fine, let's go home,” she replied, scowling and then punched Charlie in the left shoulder.

  “Ow,” Charlie complained while rubbing the muscle.

  “Pussy!”

  They walked out to the car and Anna hopped in the driver's seat.

  “You're not driving,” Charlie said.

  “Nope, I don't have to drive, the car drives itshelf,” she slurred and then leaned into Charlie's muscular chest while pressing her finger on the biometric start button.

  'Warning. A blood alcohol content of more than 0.08 percent has been detected. Safety shut down initiated' The car's dashboard speaker announced.

  “Move over Anna, the car won‘t let you drive.”

  Charlie helped Anna slide over to the other side of the car. The hand he was using to steady himself slipped off the dashboard and he fell into her chest. Charlie’s five o'clock shadow brushing across Anna‘s neck sent a shower of electricity down her spine.

  Anna trembled.

  Charlie's hair ran across Anna's earlobe, tickling the sensitive skin it found there.

  Anna giggled. She sat up while pushing Charlie off her.

  “Oh Charlie, are you trying to get in my pants?”

  That could be nice, was the thought warmly buzzing through her head as she tried to remember the last time she had sex.

  Charlie climbed off of Anna and settled into the seat beside her. “Thank god for smart cars,” he whispered, ignoring Anna's comment. She flopped over onto Charlie's sinewy shoulder. It was Charlie's turn to hold his finger on the start button.

  'A blood alcohol content of 0.05 percent has been detected. Operation is not recommended. Manual operation has been suspended.'

  “Yeah, yeah,” Charlie responded. “Recommendation noted,” he added and then pushed the auto drive feature on the dashboard.

  ◆◆◆

  “Wake up Anna, we're here,” Charlie said, nudging her gently.

  “What? We're home?”

  “Yes, come on, I'll help you in.” Charlie put his arms beneath Anna and lifted her from the seat. Anna placed her arm around Charlie's strong neck as he carried her to the house.

  “Do you want to come inside?” Anna asked through a sheepish grin.

  Charlie smiled. “Oh, it's a tempting offer Anna, but that's probably not a good idea.”

  “Aw. Are you sure?” Anna pouted.

  “Yes, we're partners remember?”

  “Not anymore. I got fired, remember?” Anna replied. “I guess you're too much of a gentleman to take advantage of a helpless drunk girl?”

  “Anna, I would do it in a heartbeat if you hadn't been drinking, and we weren't partners. I have more respect for you than that. I'll be honest, I have...” Charlie paused before finishing. “... feelings.”

  Anna wrinkled her brow.

  Feelings?

  Anna sighed. “Oh,” she replied, touching Charlie's chin. “I wasn't looking for feelings.”

  Charlie tensed. “And I'm not looking to just fill a physical need. That's why I can't Anna. After the last time you talked me into it, I said I would never do it again.”

  Talked him into it?

  “I don't remember you needing much convincing,” Anna snarled.

  Charlie remained silent.

  “Well, now I understand how you feel so I'll make sure it never happens again,” Anna replied. She could see the pain in Charlie's eyes. Wrestling with her thoughts for a moment Anna tilted her head to one side.

  “I obviously hurt you. I'm sorry Charlie.”

  Anna winced.

  “I had no idea you were, um, had feelings for me. If I had known I never would have let it happen. I was in a bad place a couple years ago.” She touched his face. “Don't worry about it Charlie, forget I mentioned it okay?” Anna said with a squint, her lips pouting again as Charlie set her down on the steps in front of the door.

  “Are you going to be okay from here?” Charlie asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Anna let go of Charlie's arm. She found herself able to stand on her own, no longer swaying like a sapling in a windstorm. “I feel a little better.” Anna made eye contact. “Thank you, Charlie.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything. For being such a great friend. For taking me out today. I n
eeded that.” She could see in Charlie's eyes he was reconsidering her offer. Anna leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

  “Anna, I-”

  Anna raised her hand and softy touched Charlie's lips, cutting him off. “Shh. You better get home, it's almost curfew, anyway.”

  Anna took in a deep breath. “Goodnight Charlie,” she said, patting his chest with her palm before walking into the house and closing the door behind her.

  Anna stopped and checked herself in front of the hallway mirror. She ran her fingers through her curls before walking into the living room to find her father watching television.

  “What ya watching daddy?” she asked and slumped down next him on the couch.

  I could use a distraction.

  “Rapid Repo's,” Steven replied. “These guys are crazy. They all live in the same trailer park and they work for the banks, taking back cars and other stuff.”

  “Really daddy? Reality TV?” Anna groaned.

  “You smell like a brewery, don't you have to work tomorrow?” he asked.

  “No, dad, I got fired.”

  “That's not funny,” Steven replied and then saw the look on his daughters face. He leaned over, turned off the TV, and then shifted in his chair to face his daughter. “You what? Really? You got fired?”

  “Well, suspended anyway. Don't worry Dad, it's temporary.”

  “How the hell are we going to pay all the bills without your portion? Your Aunt Delores got laid off this week too. I can't pay for everything around here.”

  “You could if you stopped buying things we don' need.”

  “What? Is that any way to talk to your father, Anna?”

  “Well, what the hell Dad? I noticed the Chefmaster 3000 in the kitchen this morning and I couldn't help notice the new truck in the driveway.”

  “That was before I found out Delores was losing her job so the truck’s going back, and the Chefmaster cooks meals all by itself Anna. You throw in the ingredients and it does the rest. I thought it would be more convenient with as much as everyone works around here.”

  “One less thing for Delores to do around here I guess,” Anna sniped.

 

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