I Become Shadow

by Joe Shine

  I nearly spit out my coffee. “When who gets here?”

  “Them,” he said as if it needed no more explanation. “They called while you were asleep. Said you’d gone missing and they couldn’t find you. I told them you were here.”

  “Junie, no,” I said, my pulse picking up a notch. I guess I wasn’t entirely fearless. I could feel no pain, but I knew what certain death meant.

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “The attack on me. Us. Was too …” I struggled for the words, “… I recognized it. It was them. FATE.” And there it was. Once I’d said it out loud I knew it was true. “It’s been them this whole time.”

  The mugging had been sloppily executed but well-coordinated. They knew Gareth used that shortcut. Someone had sent them there. They knew if Gareth wasn’t in mortal danger I’d stay out of it, and I did until they drew the gun. Had they left with his backpack as planned I’d never have intervened.

  The attack yesterday had felt too familiar because it was exactly how I would have planned the execution. (Of the plan, not of Gareth.) A team of four. Two killers, one shooter, and a driver. Spotty images from my dream hovered at the edge of my consciousness. I was fighting versions of myself on campus because they were just like me. They’d come to kill me and to kidnap Gareth. If they’d wanted him dead he would be. Killing was easy. They wanted him alive and there was only one reason for that. The same reason he was a FIP, the same reason we’d been linked.

  “I have to go,” I said. “Now.” But as I stood up a metal canister shot down the stairs, clanked off the wall, and landed on the floor. I knew what it was before the gas began steaming out of it. This was the end.

  The effect was almost instant. I became groggy, and my movement clumsy and slow. I had to get to Gareth but couldn’t move.

  All I could muster was turning my head toward Junie. My eyes were teary as I pleaded, “Junie, what did you do?”

  He opened his mouth in horror and confusion, but I never heard what he said.

  The floor came crashing toward me, as did the dark. My last thought was of Gareth and how I’d failed him.

  CHAPTER 24

  NO PLACE LIKE HOME

  So here I sit, in a grassy meadow overlooking a breathtaking valley below. It’s complete with a running river, a small village, and the last strips of late spring snow. It’s absolutely beautiful.

  “Ren, we’re all waiting for you!”

  It’s my father’s voice. I spin around and see him standing at the crest of a hill waving me over. He looks like I remember him, maybe a little younger and a bit more handsome, but he’s still my dad.

  I get up and walk through the knee-high grass over to him. He puts his arm around me and steers me over the crest of the hill. Everyone is there. It’s a picnic. My mother and little brother are having a watermelon eating contest with my grandparents. Junie and Gareth are playing catch with a football. All of my old friends are here too. What the hell, is that Will Ferrell again?! They all drop what they’re doing and yell, “Hey, Ren!”

  I wave back shyly.

  So this is death, huh? Well, it ain’t half bad then. No pitchforks or hellfire. No elegant cloud-living either. No, only this. Simple, peaceful, and exactly what perfection is to me.

  I make my way down the slope of the hill toward all of the people I love or have loved. All of them are waiting for me to reach them.

  The blue sky looks like the ocean and a cool breeze is blowing through the trees. I take a deep breath. But there’s something off. The air carries a scent that makes my skin crawl. I will never, can never, forget it. It’s a mixture of stale, recycled oxygen mixed with bleach and cleaning products. It’s purely antiseptic; it reeks of a place that’s too clean, of the place where I was kept prisoner for years.

  The woods around me erupt into loud wails of pain and misery. The sounds of suffering. The sounds of broken minds.

  No, this is not death and this is no dream. I’m back.

  I REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS STRAPPED into a chair in an all-too-familiar medical room. Good old déjà vu. I struggled against the binds, but unlike before, I recognized there was no chance of escape. I stopped to conserve my energy. I did some deep breathing to calm down, to prepare myself for whatever was about to happen. Was there anything in here to give me a clue?

  I had never been in this room before but I could tell from the white subway tile and the surround sound of agony that I was somewhere in the hospital wing. The room looked a bit older than the others. The door must have been behind me because there wasn’t one anywhere I could see.

  The hairs on my neck stood up. Maybe I was just cold?

  There was a sudden stabbing sensation in my stomach. I hadn’t felt pain in so long I had forgotten what it was like. It overwhelmed me. I vomited on the floor to my right. The strange pain lessened but didn’t go away. With that, a door hissed open behind me. I assumed it was a doctor, nurse, or even a Hunter here to put me down. But if they wanted me dead, they could have easily done so by now. Would have been much easier while I was out. No, someone wanted me alive, someone wanted me here. But who?

  Mr. S. slowly appeared in front of me, holding a steaming cup of tea.

  “Ren Sharpe. I’m so glad you’re still alive. You were always one of my favorites.” He smiled.

  CHAPTER 25

  PLAYING ALONG

  He took a sip of tea from his mug. Funny: I thought he’d brought it for me.

  After his sip he nodded knowingly as he said, “I know, I know. I’ve got some explaining to do. And some apologizing. The muggers were an insult and the attack on campus was so ill-conceived I’m ashamed to have sanctioned it. Please forgive me.”

  “Where’s Gareth?” I demanded. “Is he safe?” He could explain later.

  “He’s here.”

  It was not the response I was looking for. The tea was annoying me. “Is he safe?” I repeated.

  Mr. S. toyed with the thoughts in his head, rocking his noggin back and forth, but still wouldn’t answer me.

  “I have to see him. Please, let me see him.”

  Mr. S. pursed his lips. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that.” He lowered his eyes to look as sad as possible while he said, “He’s being broken, Ren.”

  Gareth was in agony, so as a result, I was too. There was only one solution. I had to save him and punish those responsible, starting with the man in front of me. I could think of nothing else. I struggled stupidly against the binds again, screaming as I strained every muscle in my body to free myself.

  “Ren, please calm down,” Mr. S. said

  He was right. Struggling was pointless. Whatever he was going to do, I couldn’t physically stop it from happening. I had to calm down. I had to try something different.

  “Let me talk to him,” I pleaded. “He’ll listen to me. I’ll get him to tell you whatever you want.”

  “Not necessary. He’ll break soon enough and we’ll get everything we need from him then. Your voice could prove a setback. There’s no need to risk it. He’s put up a hell of a fight for a civilian though. I’ll give him that much.”

  The pain in my stomach grew worse. I was shaking. Gareth was being hurt, and I could do nothing to stop it. I nearly vomited again.

  “Ren … I wanted to come down and say thank you. To tell you what a great job you did and that I’m proud of you. I see now it was a mistake and it would have been kinder to have done this while you were unconscious.”

  “Wait,” I was able to blurt out. I had to keep him talking. I had to buy more time. For what, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t give up, not yet. I stopped struggling and clenched my jaw. I tasted the blood in my mouth. “I’m okay.”

  “Good. I would have hated for it to end like that,” he said. “So quick, so cold. You’ve performed admirably and I thought you deserved to know it before we unlink you and forget it all. You earned the praise.”

  I couldn’t think straight. “Unlink me?”

  “Yes, why do you think you�
�re alive? Killing is easy.”

  My words. No, not mine: the words of the FATE Center. He drained the last of his tea, put the cup down on a counter, grabbed a stool, and sat right in front of me.

  “Like a Band-Aid, here it goes, Ren. In the very near future your link will be broken and then Gareth will be dead shortly thereafter. There’s nothing you can do to stop it, so the sooner you accept it the better off you’ll be.”

  My eyes teared up. Unable to wipe them, they softly flowed down my cheeks, off my chin and onto my clothes.

  “Do you know what happens to a Shadow when their Link dies?”

  I couldn’t shake my head. My body was wracked with sobs.

  “Of course you don’t because we never told you. It’s a terrible thing, losing yours. I don’t have to tell you how strong the connection is between a Shadow and Link; you’ve had enough experience with it already. More so than others if the reports I’ve read are correct.” He flashed a sly smile. “When your link dies there is …”

  “Gareth,” I choked out, interrupting him. “His name is Gareth.” He could at least call him by his name, show a smidgen of respect.

  “Of course, sorry. Gareth. When Gareth dies there is only one outcome for you. You will lose all sense of yourself, all sense of purpose, all sense of right and wrong. That pain you are feeling right now will turn to uncontrollable aggression and your thirst for revenge will be unstoppable. Everyone becomes a foe. And blinded by rage, you’ll be a highly trained, fearless, killing machine. No one will be safe anywhere near you.”

  The only person who’s not safe right now is you. Pray I don’t get loose.

  The pain had become a sharp stabbing pain. Gareth was getting worse.

  “Unfortunately, once this happens, once your mind has abandoned you, there’s no getting you back. It’s similar to what happens when someone succumbs to the fire treatments. We send that sort to a second home where their aggression can be put to good use. But I digress and am off point. You’re too talented to allow this to happen. Far too skilled and valuable to us. So the decision has been made to unlink you and then reassign you.”

  “I won’t be reassigned to anyone else,” I wept. “I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, you can, actually. If we unlink you before he dies, you’ll be free and your mind will be fine. You don’t honestly care about him. It’s only a byproduct of what we’ve done to you.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I fought back.

  “No, it is,” he said sadly. “But don’t worry. When it’s done you’ll wake up and think it’s your last day of training. You’ll have no recollection of the past six months, or of any of this. You’ll be a blank slate again. But this time we’ll make you a Hunter, what we should have done the first time around. Gareth will be gone and you’ll be none the wiser.”

  All gone? All of it? If he could take away the past six months, could he go further? Could he erase all of it and send me home? My mother and father’s faces flashed in my mind. Even my brother’s. Then Junie’s. And then Gareth’s.

  “It only goes back to your link, a sort of reset button,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  From somewhere an old obnoxious rap song blared. Mr. S. got excited and blurted out, “Ooh!”

  He pulled out a small glass tablet from his pocket. There was a flashing message on the screen. He tapped it and his lips curled into a smile. “He’s broken. We’re extracting the information we need as we speak. It’s over.” He tapped the screen again and the message disappeared. “Time’s up.”

  He opened a small black box sitting on a surgical tray next to him and took out a pair of the same lighter-than-air glasses I’d worn for my linking with Gareth.

  “Upload Project Sharpe Reversal,” he said toward the tablet. “Get it?” he asked me with a smile.

  A tiny light on the side of the glasses began to flash red. A few seconds later, red turned to steady green. He gently placed the glasses on my head. They carried a heavy weight of foreboding. He checked to make sure they were securely behind my ears.

  “Snug as a bug,” he said.

  A small red button was now pulsing at the center of the tablet screen.

  “All I have to do is push this and it all goes bye-bye.”

  “Wait. Let us go. You have what you want. Just let us leave. You’ll never see us again. I can make us disappear; you know I can.”

  “True,” he toyed with the idea for a moment then finished with, “but then I’d lose you.”

  I’d failed. Gareth would die and I would never remember him. I’d rather die than be unlinked to Gareth. I would die, rather than be unlinked. Mr. S.’s mind was made up and now so was mine. I had one hand left to play and it was time to play it. If you’re gonna go out, go out with a bang.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit shall we, Blake?” I spat.

  The use of his real name caught him off guard.

  “How much faith do you have that this,” I nodded toward the tablet, “will work?”

  “Absolute. Why do you ask?”

  “Blake Alexander Adams. Parents Charlie and Samantha. Little sister Megan, sophomore at Boston College. Parents’ address 23015 West Ogletree.”

  Hearing his full name, and those of his family, did the trick. The cool, commanding demeanor vanished. His jaw flickered. “How …?” He shook off the shock.

  “I was well trained,” I said coolly. “And you screwed up. Brass rat.”

  He instinctively touched the school ring on his finger.

  “You have no idea how many people I told this to.” I hadn’t told a soul, but he didn’t know that.

  “I … had not expected this …” Glassy-eyed he pulled out a gun from his belt, cocked it, and pointed it at me. “No one threatens my family.”

  I closed my eyes. Gareth, I’m sorry.

  BANG!

  CHAPTER 26

  THE CHARGE

  Pain. Indescribable pain.

  It felt like my memories were being ripped from my mind with razor blades. At first it was the little stuff. Following Gareth around campus. Taking fake notes in class. But then bigger, more intense, more personal moments. And the more powerful the memory, the more difficult and painful it was to lose.

  I think I was screaming, but was it all in my head? And then the glasses were ripped off my head and it stopped. I was screaming.

  “Ren! Ren!” came the sweetest voice I knew. “Ren, are you okay?”

  I opened my eyes, the tears still streaming out of them.

  Junie?

  “Are you okay?” he repeated.

  I nodded. “Think so.” I jogged my memory. There were definite holes, but most of it was still there. The important stuff anyway. “Yeah, I’m good.” I looked up at him. “Junie?”

  There was a groan behind him and Junie’s face contorted with rage. Over his shoulder I could see Mr. S. leaning against a counter clutching his bloodied right hand to his chest. On the ground sat his tablet. The red button now green. Junie thundered toward him and slammed the butt of his machine gun into his stomach. Mr. S. crumbled like a sack of potatoes.

  I’d never seen Junie truly angry. It was terrifying. This was not my Junie, my best friend, my soul mate. This was a giant, hellhound of a man. He had grenades, pistols, knives, and other weapons tactically strapped to every part of his body. A nightmarish war machine to anyone but me.

  “How’d you …?” I asked.

  “I took a page out of your book. I was sneaky.”

  He dropped the large black bag he’d been carrying and sliced the binds off of me. I quickly wrapped my arms around him, but there wasn’t time for crap like that now. I leapt out of the chair and crushed Mr. S. in the face with my fist. God it felt good. Then I hauled him up against a cabinet and crushed his windpipe with my knee. “Where is Gareth?” I asked.

  Mr. S. didn’t answer. I pushed harder, putting all my weight behind it. Any more and I’d kill him. We both knew it.

  “Ren, hurry. We need to get moving,” Junie grunted, d
ragging two unconscious guards into the room.

  He was right, we didn’t have time for this. The gunshot would not go unnoticed and soon enough the beehive would wake up all around us. I stopped choking Mr. S. and stood over him.

  I recited, “23015 West Ogletree …”

  He looked up at me, terrified. “Floor R1, room 3907.”

  Liar. “Parents: Charlie and Samantha—”

  “Okay, okay.” He reached past me, trying to get to his tablet. I swiped it off the ground and handed it to him.

  “Status,” he croaked into it. He held it up for me to hear.

  A voice, Cole’s, responded. “Extraction finished; we’ve got it. Project Midas complete. Subject is alive, moving to garage C3 for removal to the nest. Will you meet us there?”

  I grabbed the tablet and said, “On my way.”

  Cole had unknowingly given me my answer. Gareth was alive. I would find him. I put the tablet into my pocket, spun the pistol around in my hand, and cracked Mr. S. in the temple with it. It might have finished the job Junie had started with his gunshot. I didn’t care.

  “Ready?” Junie asked behind me.

  I turned to see him kick the black bag toward me. It slid across the floor and stopped at my feet. I unzipped it and grinned: a fully loaded kit. Everything I would or could want was in there. Bulletproof vest, grenades, guns, and best of all, knives, my knives.

  I strapped on the gear. With guns in their holsters and knives and grenades in their places, I was ready. And not a moment too soon.

  Sirens began to wail from all over and emergency lights began to flash.

  There was gunfire behind me as Junie shot at someone through one of the small windows in the doors. He repositioned himself by the door, popping up to fire off more rounds through the now bullet-riddled window.

  “How many?” I asked as I positioned myself on the other side of the door to fire in the opposite direction.

  “Eleven,” he said and then fired off a quick burst before saying, “Now ten. But more keep showing up and this is our only way out.”