by Marina Epley
“You really suck,” Wheeler grins. “Now I see why you chose Jimmy. Misery loves company. ”
Ignoring his comment, I reload and try again. Pointless. I can’t aim well enough. Wheeler laughs, “What are you, blind?”
I don’t answer. He doesn’t need to know something is really wrong with my vision. I put the gun down.
Jessie is next. She shoots quickly, earning a 98 score out of possible 100. It takes her less than a minute. Seems like Jessie doesn’t even have to take the time to aim, and is completely natural with a handgun.
“Damn, girl,” Wheeler says. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
Jessie keeps silent.
“They had plenty of guns back on their farm,” Victor answers. “She practically learned to shoot before she could walk.”
“Shut your mouth, freak,” Jessie growls. Chase steps closer, making sure she doesn’t attack Victor again.
Then we all practice firing and reloading rifles. I don’t leave when it’s time for lunch. I’m staying and practicing. No use. Wheeler was right. I really suck at shooting.
“C’mon, breaker,” Chase says. “Let’s go eat.”
“I used to be a good shot,” I say.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about firearms if I were you. Who needs a gun with your breaker abilities?”
Even being a breaker, I’d feel safer if I could shoot well. Hopefully, my vision will recover sooner or later. I can’t be sure. A long time has passed since the car accident. The damage to my vision may be permanent.
“Anyway, if you wind up in a shootout, it’s bound to be at close range,” Chase says. “So you should be fine.”
I put the gun aside and go to lunch. My team has a special room reserved, where we can eat apart from other inmates. We get juicy burgers with fresh hot fries and even slices of apple pie for dessert. Cooperative breakers really are treated differently around here. Chase and Wheeler eat with us. Holtzmann sits alone, deep in thought. He doesn’t touch his salad.
After lunch we spend a couple of hours listening to Wheeler lecture on terrorist attacks and methods for securing buildings. Then it’s time for the physical combat training. A few additional Elimination officers arrive to assist. Each member of my team, excepting Lena and Victor, has to partner with an officer. Lena is too young, and Victor is our memory reader.
Frank does great, taking down the officer within a blink of an eye. He may have had previous training in addition to what he learned at Elimination. His movements are quick and efficient, and he uses techniques I’ve never seen before.
Jessie attacks her opponent ferociously, but the officer blocks her punches and kicks. He’s taller and much heavier than she is. The officer takes a swing at Jessie’s face, but she manages to duck and then throw herself forward, delivering a nasty head-butt. He steps back, swaying and bloody. Wheeler stops the fight.
“Too bad you’re a breaker,” he says. “You’d make an excellent Elimination soldier.”
Jessie spits on the floor and turns away, ignoring his comment.
When Jimmy steps up on the mat, his opponent asks Wheeler, “Do you really want me to beat this boy, sir? He’s only like twelve.”
“Shut up and do as you’ve been instructed,” Wheeler commands.
Jimmy moves in toward the officer, swinging his arms in a strange exaggerated windmill style, hitting nothing but empty air. I realize immediately Jimmy has never had a fight in his life. The officer raises his arms hesitantly and then backhands Jimmy hard across the jaw. Jimmy falls down, lying motionless in shock. The officer looks at Wheeler in confusion.
“That’s enough,” I say.
“This imbecile is gonna die during the first encounter with a terrorist,” Wheeler says. “Is that what you really want?”
“My team is chosen, and it did not require your approval then or now,” I answer. “If you don’t like something, go cry to Browning. I’m sure he’ll appreciate your whining.”
Wheeler bares his teeth, but doesn’t answer.
I’m up next. Wheeler chooses the biggest officer for my opponent and commands, “Go beat the hell out of this breaker.”
The officer and I step on the mat. He watches, waiting patiently. I’m still agitated after failing the firearms test. I let my hatred of Wheeler fill me. I remember all the anguish and insult that Elimination has brought into my life. We circle each other, looking for any sign of weakness. I drop down low and charge in, imagining him being Wheeler. I feint an attack on his legs, and as he sprawls down to defend, I throw a knee to his head as hard as I can. He reels backward. We circle again, trading punches. After a couple of minutes, I end up on top of the officer, relentlessly smashing his face, splattering blood across the mat. He loses consciousness, but I can’t stop. I realize that I want to kill one of the guys who’ve made me leave my Kitty, who’ve destroyed everything I’ve ever had. I keep pounding his head.
Chase and Frank drag me off of the beaten officer.
“Are you crazy?” Chase yells. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Rex?” Holtzmann says in a worried voice.
“I got carried away,” I say, wiping drops of sweat from my forehead. “This is an abilities test, right? I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. It’s nothing personal.”
Wheeler smiles. Perhaps he’s pleased to have exposed a dark side within me. Suddenly, I feel ashamed. I can’t understand what’s happened. I’ve never been so willingly violent before. Something has changed inside me. If Chase and Frank hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed that officer today.
In the evening I’m sitting at Holtzmann’s desk, checking files on his laptop. I didn’t think he’d allow me to do this, but I was mistaken. Holtzmann didn’t question why I wanted to see the inmate files. He just nodded, typed in passwords on his laptop and then left me alone. Maybe Holtzmann just knew I had nobody to share this information with anyway, so it was safe for him and Elimination to let me take a glance at their files.
I’m digging into the files and reading about hundreds of breaker’s alleged crimes. All these inmates have gone through the same facility I’m in now. Some are still here, many have died and others have been transferred. I don’t read their names and don’t look at their photographs. All I’m interested in is the crimes they’ve committed. These files contain the real information, not just what gets presented to the public in a TV reality show.
I find my own personal file and read that I’m accused of being a level four breaker. No word about an alleged bank robbery or killing and attacking innocent people. Other files contain similar descriptions, inmates simply being accused of being breakers. But most files additionally include at least one crime. The descriptions are very official, with no bloody details, but it’s enough to send a chill down my spine. I read about robberies, homicides and rapes. I read about dozens of innocent people murdered by breakers. It makes me almost sick to realize most of us are violent criminals.
I can’t stop reading.
I don’t know what I’m looking for and why I need such information. Maybe I just want to prove myself that I’m right to hate Elimination. I hate the officers the same way they hate and despise me and other breakers. I’m trying to make my own hatred of Elimination bona fide and righteous. Instead, I learn that Elimination is for the most part capturing hundreds of dangerous breakers who really commit horrible crimes. Most of us are a threat to society and can’t bear the burden of resisting the temptation to take advantage of our skills. Apparently, Tim was right after all.
I continue reading until my eyes become tired and I get a headache. Then I finally turn away, thinking. The world used to be simple. Elimination was bad and breakers were good. After reading the files, I now understand we’re the same. We hate and kill each other. On one side there’s Wheeler who enjoys torturing breakers and on the other, there are breakers who enjoy causing pain to innocent people. All the same to me.
Then I think of Lena, Jessie and Jimmy. They’v
e done nothing to be locked away. They’re just victims of our violent world.
I don’t know what to think of myself. Do I deserve my sentence in this prison? I didn’t rob the bank or kill innocent people as accused. But neither am I completely clean. I’ve certainly committed my share of crimes since Elimination began disrupting my life.
“That’s why I joined Elimination,” I hear a calm voice say from behind and look back. Frank is standing at the doorway. “To stop the evil breakers from harming innocent people,” he says. “I know many breakers believe that Elimination is just a government instrument for abusing breakers. That’s not completely true. Elimination prevents a multitude of crimes from ever happening. They’re the last defense for normal citizens. You’re reading these files and I can tell from the look on your face that you’re deeply shocked by what you read. But those files pale in comparison to what you actually see working as an Elimination officer. You can’t imagine what I’ve witnessed.”
Frank looks closer at the laptop screen. He sighs, “I used to hate breakers. Now that I’m one of you, I don’t really know which side I belong to.”
“I thought you wanted to return to Elimination,” I say.
“I do, but now I can’t know for sure whether it would be a good decision or not. I’ve never liked the idea of capturing breakers who haven’t committed a crime. Now I’m one of those breakers myself.”
I remember hypnotizing robbers and cops at the bank and getting the sensation of having my life crumble down around me within minutes. I ask, “How did you learn of your breaker abilities?”
“During my work,” he answers. “We were hunting Bulldog and his groupies. They had killed many people before. The bust turned bad and we ended up shooting at each other. Bulldog captured an officer, who used to be my friend. I ran out of ammo. I didn’t want Bulldog to kill him, wished very hard for him to drop his weapon and… well, you know.”
“You hypnotized Bulldog.”
“Right. I’m said to be level four, so I could potentially hypnotize other breakers. I’m still not exactly sure how I did it. Believe it or not, I’ve never used that ability again after that day. I simply don’t have a will to learn. I hypnotized Bulldog, saving my friend’s life, and wound up being handcuffed and taken to prison along with Bulldog for my efforts. Nobody knew what to do with me.”
“Do you have family?” I wonder.
“I used to have a wife. She divorced me when she learned I was a freak. I don’t blame her. Who would want to be married to a breaker?”
“No kids?”
“No.”
We spend a few minutes in silence. I realize that Frank’s situation is even worse than mine. I always knew I was a breaker. I’m used to being one. Frank is stuck between two worlds and rejected by both. Elimination won’t accept him because he’s their enemy. Most breakers probably hate him for being a former Elimination officer.
“There’s no going back for you,” I say. “You can’t stop being a breaker.”
“I know.”
“At least you don’t have to work for Wheeler anymore. He’s a real jerk.”
“He’s really not that bad. If he mistreated you, it’s only because you’re a breaker. Wheeler isn’t a bad man.”
“Wheeler’s the worst person I’ve ever met.”
“You only know his tough outer shell, but don’t really know him fully,” Frank answers. “He’s a good husband and a father. And he’s a good friend. At least we used to be friends. For the most part, he’s only temperamental and mean spirited here at the prison. Outside of here, Wheeler is a nice guy.”
I don’t answer, trying to imagine Wheeler being nice. I can’t. No matter what opinion Frank has, I won’t be removing Wheeler from my kill list. He deserves nothing less than death.
It’s getting very late. I turn off the laptop and suggest to Frank to go get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day, our first attempt to locate the terrorists telepathically.
I get flashbacks from Jimmy’s memories in my sleep. I wake, pleading with Elimination to not kill my parents and struggling to remember who I really am. I hesitate to sleep again, because I don’t want to risk more visions. It messes with my head. I dress and walk out of my room.
Since I agreed to work for Browning, I’ve been transferred into another section of the prison. The cells here don’t look like cells really, but resemble cheap motel rooms. No locks on the doors. Other members of our team are living in the same section as well.
Victor sits on the floor concealed in shadow, smoking a cigarette. Seeing me he smiles, knocking off ash on the floor, and says, “A gift from Carrel. Like one?”
“I don’t smoke,” I answer.
“I have some Xanax if you prefer.”
“No, thanks.”
“Believe me, dude, you’ll need some when they make you scan people every waking day,” Victor grins. “Helps me not to care or think too much. That’s why you’re up, aren’t you? You can’t shake Jimmy’s memories.”
“How do you know?” I wonder.
“Cause that garbage happens to me all the time. I keep seeing other people’s memories instead of sleeping. I no longer understand which are mine and which aren’t. I can’t tell the difference. A good breaker could probably scan once or twice a week and be fine. But if they make you do it every day, you won’t remember yourself after a while.” He pauses, smoking a cigarette and exhaling blue smoke. “I may not know who I am,” he says slowly, “but I’m pretty darn sure I was not smoking a month ago. Must have picked it up from somebody I scanned.”
“I thought you liked working for Elimination,” I say.
“I thought so too, but I can’t remember why,” Victor answers. “I don’t know, maybe somebody wiped my memory. What I do know is that I’m really sick of all this.” He gives me a piercing stare. “I want out. I’m done with Elimination.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask.
“Because I know you’re planning something, and I want in.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“C’mon,” Victor rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I won’t be spying on you and your team for Carrel. I’m sick of being told what to do by him.”
“Why would I trust you, Victor?”
“Well, maybe because I didn’t tell anybody about Kitty.”
“What? How do you know about her?” I ask.
“I couldn’t read all your memories, but I sneaked a glimpse at a few things before you blocked me,” he grins. “Don’t worry. I didn’t rat you out.”
He finishes his cigarette and stands up. “I’ll help you catch those guys and find your sister. Then you help me get out of here,” he says, walking away. I remain sitting on the floor, wondering whether I can trust Victor or not. Holtzmann might be right in saying that Victor is not what I think. Nothing is certain, time will tell.
I sit back in the recliner with my eyes closed, concentrating on Kitty. I can imagine her in vivid detail, but nothing happens. No vision comes. Lena is in a similar chair beside me, doing the same thing. She’s seen Kitty in visions before, but unfortunately, they don’t share a connection. Lena’s mind is linked to mine, so I’m trying to lead her into my thoughts. I don’t exactly know how it’s supposed to work. I only follow Holtzmann’s instructions. We’re in a dark, quiet section of his lab with no distractions. The other members of my team are in a separate section, getting hypnosis training from Victor with Holtzmann watching.
“Nothing,” I say finally, sitting up. “Can you see anything?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Lena answers.
“That’s okay.”
We return to our team. Holtzmann gives me a questioning look and I report that we couldn’t get any visions.
“That’s your own fault, Rex,” Holtzmann says. “You’re still blocking signals by maintaining a closed mind. In fact, you already know where we can find them. You’re getting this information continuously, but you d
on’t recognize it because you don’t fully accept and trust your abilities.”
“I need a break,” I answer, plopping down in a chair and watching Victor hand out candy bars.
“The best and easiest source of carbs for breakers,” he says. “Increases sugar in your blood and helps your brain activity. You should eat one too,” he says, tossing a candy bar my way. I catch and enjoy sharing mine with Lena.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Holtzmann says. “If Browning doesn’t see results soon, he’ll shut down our project. He’ll quickly return to his preferred policy of scanning the entire human population. We must remain focused and methodical in our efforts.”
Rebecca brings lunch and eats with us, asking Holtzmann if he took his medicine. She avoids eye contact with me and behaves as if I’m not here.
A bored Chase is pacing back and forth in the lab, paying little attention to us. Looks like he doesn’t view our team as a threat any longer.
Lena and I continue attempting to get visions after lunch and don’t stop till it’s time for supper. Afterward, we try again. Nothing.
I’m losing faith in being able to locate the terrorists. Maybe I’ve overestimated myself and can’t manage any more visions about Kitty. Maybe returning to prison and involving Elimination was a mistake.
Lena’s scream breaks the silence. I jump off my chair and shake her, trying to wake her up. A closer look reveals Lena isn’t asleep. She’s in some sort of trance, her eyes wide open and rolled back in her head.
“Lena, what are you seeing?” I ask.
I know she’s having a vision. I need to see it too somehow. I need to know what’s happening to Kitty and where she is. I press my forehead against Lena’s and close my eyes. Show me, I think. Take me with you.
Images flash rapidly in my mind. They’re so vivid and intense that I become dizzy and lose balance.
When Holtzmann and Chase enter the room, I’m still sitting on the floor, gasping and trying to collect myself. Lena looks around and touches the chair carefully as if making sure it’s real, not a vision.