by C C Roth
The screen jumped to a blurry cell phone video in which I could just barely make out two people wearing lab coats, talking to one another. They were pointing around a room and gesturing. The screen paned slowly right then left showing a line of terrified faces; teenagers huddled together on the floor with their hands bound. I recognized them immediately. They were the kids we’d just rescued from Quantum. The kids standing in that very room with me as I watched the footage. The kids Mike died for because I just had to make it my mission to save them. Someone wearing military fatigues stepped in front of the video and it shut off. Then the screen showed another bouncy shot of a row of beds, the sound of whirring machines could be heard in the background then someone screamed; a dark and strangled cry which turned to choking. The phone panned and zoomed in on a young girl sitting up in a hospital bed, her wrists tied to bars with restraints. She coughed up blood, spraying bright polka dots over her blanket. No one came to help her as her body flew backwards and convulsed violently on the bed. And though the screen switched frames, I knew it wasn’t a quick death.
Then someone was walking down a hallway in Quantum, the video facing outward. The person stopped and froze as two men entered the hall from the opposite end and walked toward the camera, unaware they were being filmed. The frame froze on the face of former Secretary Ross. It was damning. He had been filmed in the lab, talking with one of the doctors who worked there and now, thanks to me, his body was found in the lab as well. There was no denying his involvement.
This is what Mitchell had wanted. This was his goal all along. Eliminate Ross and condemn him all at the same time. Now the people would look to Mitchell for the presidency. How could they not? He had more qualifications than any other candidate, he was well spoken, a natural leader and a man of the people. Not to mention he was handing the people their scapegoat on a silver platter. But why the cloak and dagger? Why not just stand up and say he was the savior? I waded through the bodies in the room and made my way back to his office. He was alone. Sitting perched at his desk in his usual pose of thoughtfulness, hands steepled under his chin. But his face was taught and tired. He didn’t need to watch the news report with the rest of us, since he knew it all too well. He'd been the one to deliver it, after all.
“You didn’t want anyone looking too closely, right? That’s why the source is anonymous. Because then they might find out you had orchestrated the entire thing. They’d know you didn’t just rescue those kids, you put them there. You set them up to be taken. You made sure Ross was there so they could film him. You set it all up. But how much? Were you a part of Avian-X too? How far does your line of bullshit go, Mitchell?”
His jaw tightened. I could see the strain in his eyes. The past few days of stress were taking their toll. “Don’t be ridiculous, Samantha. What would I have to gain from aiding terrorists in an attack on my own country? How does that possibly serve me?”
“You’re headed for the White House, aren’t you? Well, maybe not the old one since it’s, you know, blown to shit. But maybe you were willing to sacrifice everyone around you to get there. Tear it all down so you can be the one to build it back up?”
He slammed his fist on his desk, a temporary loss of control. “I lost everything,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “My girls are gone. They are all I wanted in this world and they’re gone. I’m doing my best with what I have left. I am sorry if you do not like the package I’ve had to wrap it up in, but if this is what I had to do to set things right, then so be it. Those people were doing evil things to innocent children, Ross was doing evil things to innocent children. It had to stop. So, I stopped it. What does it matter how I did it? The outcome is all the same.”
“Is it though? Are you really a hero for this? You set those kids up to be taken. You handed them to Ross. Do they even know that? How does that make you any different?”
“Samantha, I expected you of all people to understand this. I am playing a never-ending game of strategy and we have won big thanks to you and me. We deserve to celebrate not to question our worthiness of the victory.”
“Oh, I’m not questioning it. I’m flat out accusing you of being unworthy. You are a manipulative asshole. My brother is dead because of you.”
“No, Samantha, he is dead because of you. He agreed to this endeavor because of you, not me. And we both know that. If nothing else, we know that.”
I was frozen to the floor. A storm was raging inside me, but my frosty exterior was set in place. He hadn’t said it to hurt me; he knew I couldn’t be wounded anymore. It was just a fact. My brother was dead because of me.
“You know it’s the truth just as I know I am to blame for my family’s death. I could have left here when the virus first broke out, but I wanted to stay. They were here because of me and they are dead because of me. That is why we do not break protocol in this house. That is why I did not call Dr. Pearson to help you. I will never risk innocent lives again. I know what you’re carrying, Samantha. I carry it too. You belong here with me, Samantha. I am your family now. I see you for what you really are and I can guide you to a better life. A life you could never imagine.”
His face was so sincere. So full of love and promise.
“No. You don’t see me. Not truly.”
“Yes, I do. Where will you go? What do you think you can do now? You are wanted by the United States government for murder. You are a terrorist. Do you think they don’t have your image from the lab? Footage of you murdering a United States government official. Without my protection they will hunt you down and you will disappear.”
“That may be true. But if I’m a terrorist what does that make you?”
He shook his head as if he were disappointed in me. “I’d hoped for so much more from you Samantha. You can be so much more.”
“Mike was right all along. You want me to be your personal assassin. When someone gets in your way you want me to move them because I don’t mind the mess, right? Because I’m some stupid little girl you can manipulate into believing you care for.”
“No. I do care for you, Samantha.”
“Stop saying my name! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Did you really think you could control me? Wield me like a weapon? You were playing Russian roulette and you didn’t even know it.”
An iceberg shifted within me and I wanted to leap across the desk and rip him to shreds. My hand clenched around the outline of the knife in my front pocket, triggering a shudder as I recalled the relief it had brought me once before.
Do it. He deserves it. We’d be gone before anyone even noticed.
I could stop my pain so easily, stop Mitchell, get vengeance for my brother. But I couldn’t hide from Mike’s voice in my head. It was louder than my vengeance. Louder than my cold friend. Don’t let him do this to you. Don’t let him turn you into his monster.
In reality I was every bit of the monster I’d always feared, and that Mike had always steered me away from. I was that monster before Mitchell even met me. But I didn’t have to be his. Somehow that would be worse. I had a choice. Maybe I’d had a choice all along. My hands shook with restraint, my eyes filled with tears. I think a small part of me was crying not just for losing Mike but also for losing Mitchell, or at least the man I thought he was. His acceptance had meant so much. What did it say that the first person I’d really felt connected with was basically a sociopath? If I killed him right where he sat it wouldn’t change things for me, it wouldn’t bring Mike back. But it would change the lives of every child in that house who was safe because of him. I could practically see their little puppy dog eyes begging me, please don’t kill our daddy. Not to mention the election would be without a man who for all his faults, would champion the people. So the guilt of sad puppy-like orphans, the reality that some other asshole would step up and fill Ross’s shoes, and the knowledge that I truly only had myself to blame for Mike’s death all combined in a giant swirling mass that pushed me toward the door and away from slitting his throat. Or maybe I was just so d
amn tired of all the death. Whatever the reason, instead of reducing him to a lifeless pile of bones, I turned and walked out without a word.
────♦────
I sat on a bed in our room twisting a shoelace in my fingers. My stomach was growling, begging me to go eat, but I didn’t feel like I could move. Someone cleared their throat and I looked up to see Noah standing at the doorway with a backpack in his hand trying to figure out if he should come in or not. I couldn’t blame him. Since the moment we met I’d been a terrifying mess. I looked at his face, the face I had studied in his mother’s photo over and over again. He looked nothing like that smiling kid anymore. His eyes were a bit sunken and the joy had left his face completely. He’d been through a lot but then again, who hadn’t? I think that’s why I felt such a kinship with him from the start, we were both separated and alone in our own ways, but his situation was one I could fix. I could give him back his life. I just wish I hadn’t made mine so much worse in the process. Mike’s voice echoed in my head, all those maybes could get us killed. I don’t want to die for a maybe. I twisted the shoelace around my finger until it turned purple and throbbed, needing to feel something, anything other than the carousel of pain spinning through me.
He cleared his throat again. “Look, I uh…I’m going so I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for trying to get me back to my family. I’m sorry for how it played out. I’m sorry for your brother, he seemed like a good guy.”
“He was. Where are you going?”
“To Phoenix. I talked to Mitchell and he set something up for us in the Safe Zone. He’s having my parents moved there now.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yeah, I actually talked to them. My mom was a mess, she couldn’t stop crying. She told me to tell you thank you about a million times. My dad too. They’re both freaking out.”
“That’s everything, Noah. Thank you for telling me.”
“They said they’d like you to come with me. To stay with us, I mean. I don’t know what your plans are, but they made me promise to ask so I’m asking. You want to come with me? To Phoenix?”
His face was dreamy in a way only lusty romance novels can describe, and the correct answer should have been, “yes I’ll follow you anywhere.” But I wasn’t living in a crappy love story, thank god. Besides, even as I tried to consider it, I knew Mitchell wouldn’t let that happen. If I wasn’t going to be his personal henchman, he wouldn’t be sticking his neck out for me like he did for Noah. Not to mention, as soon as I left he was going to make sure I took the fall for the attack on Quantum, Ross’s death, and whatever else he felt like adding on to my list of sins. It wouldn’t be long before I was a known terrorist hunted by our government. An only mildly surprising afterthought. I could just imagine the yearbook quote, Sam Sharp, voted most likely to be associated with a violent terrorist attack. Few would be shocked.
“Thanks, but no. Maybe I’ll come find you after.”
“After what?”
“I don’t know yet. I guess I have to figure that out.”
“Right, well sorry again. And thank you. If you hadn’t come for me, I wouldn’t be headed to meet my parents right now so, if it helps, you did this too. Maybe try to look at some of the good you’ve done while you’re sitting here adding up your list of mistakes.”
I half-smiled and shrugged him off.
“It wasn’t your fault, Sam. You came there for me. Maybe if I’d left sooner…”
“No, I went there for me. You were just an excuse. It’s my fault Mike is dead. Not yours or anyone else’s. I did this.”
He nodded. “Well, I’m still sorry. Phoenix might be just what you need for a little while.”
“Yeah, maybe. Mike wanted me to go home after this. He wanted me to be normal.”
“Huh. But you’re not normal.”
I stared at him blankly. “No kidding?”
“I mean, I don’t mean it as an insult. I just meant maybe you should try to be who you are and not what other people want you to be. That’s all.”
“Right. Yeah, well I don’t really know who that is right now.”
“You will. Not right now because let’s face it, things are shit. But you will. You’ll find yourself.”
“Thanks. You’re kind of awesome. Sorry I was so… ‘me’ when we met.”
“Scary and intense?”
“Yeah. That.”
“It’s okay. If that’s you, then be that. Just find people that are good with it and maybe tone it down a little at first. You’re pretty intimidating.”
“Right. Good advice.”
He smiled and for a second we stared at each other, his blue eyes sparkling just a little. A tiny twinge in my chest told me I was going to miss having the chance to stare into those eyes.
“Goodbye, Sam.”
“Goodbye, Noah.”
He was gone from my life as abruptly as he’d entered it. This mystery guy that had propelled me forward after so many losses. I wanted to follow him, to have a chance to know him, but I’d only be putting him at risk. The news would be lousy with my photo soon and I wouldn’t be able to hide from what I’d done and who I was. Mitchell would have to distance himself from me and maybe even make a show of helping the government bring me to justice. He couldn’t be associated with The Resistance, never mind that he was an integral part of it.
My rifle lay on the foot of the bed, begging to be picked up. I hadn’t held it for days. Not since the guys took it from me after Mike died. I ran a hand along the stock, absently tracing the grooves and shape with a finger. It wanted me to hold it, like a small child reaches for its mother. I cradled it in my lap and wondered if I should leave it behind. Abandon this part of me and walk out into the world, naked and alone, ready to be born anew. Would that even be possible? The world wouldn’t implode if I did, no more than it already had. I could change my name and start fresh in Phoenix with Noah. It would be a future at least, a chance.
A chance for what? More pretending? More hiding from who you are?
I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored my cold friend. I couldn’t hear its voice, not now.
You can’t shut me out. I’ll never leave you. I’m always here.
Luis and Wyatt had decided to stay, and I couldn’t blame them. It was a safe place while all I could promise them was more chaos. Navin would follow me anywhere, even after everything, I knew he would. With Noah gone I had no goodbyes to make. Mitchell and I had said everything there was to say and if I was face to face with him again, I’d kill him for sure. The others in the house meant little to me other than I’d done my part to get them home. I didn’t want to see anymore pathetic looks from them. What was that about anyway? How does that help a person who just lost someone? Staring at them and giving them sad looks? No thanks. They could take their sad faces and fuck off. I didn’t need to be reminded I was defeated, I already felt it to my core.
I packed in silence and slung my rifle and backpack over my shoulder, only absently noticing how eerily quiet the house was. It was the perfect time to make my exit with everyone at the Memorial waiting for Mitchell’s big speech. It would air live for the entire country to see, whoever that was. The last estimation of our current population was down to 180 million, almost half of what we once were. A decimated country trying to claw its way back and thanks to me, Mitchell was the one who would lead us through. After his speech that day there would be no going back. I didn’t know how to feel about it really. Mitchell was right about me being a fugitive the moment I walked away from him. I’d murdered someone to clear the path for his presidency. I had done it knowingly and with intention. Although my motives weren’t political, that didn’t change things. It didn’t change the video footage of me running through Quantum with my rifle in hand. It didn’t change that a man was dead because of me. A man who, despite being a monster, many wanted to vote into office. Sorry folks, I had a bone to pick so no President D-Bag for you. It wasn’t much of a defense.
I stood a
t the doorway fighting with myself. If I stayed at The Home then I would become the one thing Mike told me not to, Mitchell’s own personal monster. Mike was never scared of me, he didn’t judge me, he just did his best to take care of me. I mistook Mitchell’s trust for the same caring, but he never had any intention of keeping me safe. He just wanted to rile me up and point me down the path of destruction wherever it suited him. I saw it now. How he’d been grooming me all along. Even after he became president, he would keep me nearby, thriving off his safety and success only to throw me away whenever I became inconvenient. He wasn’t family and he never would be. My family was gone forever but even knowing all of this to be true, as I stepped through the doorway, I felt the pull to stay. The darkness inside me was fine with all of it. The life of a lonely gun for hire sounded like a dream job for me and my cold friend. But that would be giving up and I just couldn’t do that to Mike. He would have died for nothing. I had to leave. Didn’t I?
────♦────
The rally downtown was well underway as I stepped outside. Hundreds of people had showed in support of Mitchell. There was even a film crew from the network news station. Everyone had their masks and gloves on of course and some people wore full on hazmat suits. A necessary precaution that left me wondering why anyone would bother coming together at all. Seeing a group of that size gathered gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. Yes, the virus was on the downfall but coming together in a group that size was risky, and dumb. Apparently, people wanted to be a part of history so much they were willing to risk their lives for it. They were willing to risk their lives for him, Mitchell Anderson. Future president of the United States. I couldn’t blame them. The spell he cast was heavy.