by Josiah Upton
He stands now by his wall of anti-Ugger sentiment, pointing at the large poster of the dead Hybrid Reanimate. “I may not be able to do this, but the next closest thing is keeping charge down at that Ugger warehouse. Maybe someday, when everyone opens their damn eyes, I'll be there for the final Purge, and finish what my Grandad started. But until then, I have to keep a level head, and watch my ass. No more dealing.”
So he is done dealing, and my much needed supply is now cut off. What will I do? How will I go to school without it? Being there is already hard enough, even with the Mortetine dulling my senses. I would never make it on my own. And if I can't go to school, I'll never see Genny again. My slim chance of her forgiving me has now moved to impossible.
Caesar has ruined everything.
My body begins to tremble, breaking down under the power of my Rage. With no more hope of light or warmth in my life, there's nothing left for me. No reason to hold back, to deny my Prisoner. It's all over. This man, his back to me and defenses down, will die tonight. If exterminating my kind is indeed his destiny, then mine must be to devour his flesh. The Sons of the Living versus the Sons of Sludge. How fitting.
I ready myself to pounce, to bring it all to an end, but then Caesar turns to face me, and a metallic glint catches my eye. Tucked into his pants is his pistol, the one thing that makes my Prisoner reconsider. I didn't see it in the kitchen, so why am I seeing it now? He's gripping the handle, but he doesn't pull it out to blast me, so he must still not know what I am, or the impulses running through me. The only explanation why he's brandishing it now must be to protect himself against an angry customer. I had almost forgotten what I'm supposed to be, a kid running illicit drug trades for a supposed dealer in Pueblo, who's just lost his supply. It wouldn't be a stretch for that kind of encounter to get hostile.
He catches me eyeing his firearm, and smiles, his lips clenching his rolled paper tightly. I want to claw at his face, make him pay for destroying everything, but the sight of his pistol keeps me at bay. “Don't worry, kid. I'm sure Gibbs will figure something out. He'll have some extra time for more market analysis.” He chuckles, taking the lit paper out of his mouth to dispense some ash on the floor.
“And besides, if you think this will put you out of work with that old man, I've got a little tip for you. Another opportunity in Pueblo.” He turns for a moment to scan his wall, now looking at his collection of paper cutouts. His hand travels across the black text and white paper, until it lands on one sheet in particular, yanking it from its place. “Ah, here it is.”
I'm in no mood to read anything right now, but he places the paper in my hand anyway.
CASH REWARD FOR THE CAPTURE OF ANY UNREGISTERED HYBRID REANIMATES
ALIVE OR DEAD
“What is this?” I ask, puzzled by what I've just read. “And what does this have to do with Pueblo?”
“It's a notice they put up at work,” Caesar answers. “That incident on the bus last month made the APA wet their pants a little. Right now they're keeping this low profile, only letting government employees in on it. But pretty soon, they'll release this to the public, and everyone's gonna be on the lookout for Uggers.”
“But what does this have to do with Pueblo?” I ask again, afraid of what the answer might be.
“Well, occasionally I'll talk with guys from other departments. A couple weeks ago, some of the Collars brought up Pueblo, and said they're closing in on an unregistered there right now.”
I want desperately to believe that the unregistered Hybrid Reanimate they're trying to catch is some poor creature locked in a closet. Maybe a new one, or a female, or an adult. Anyone but me. However, I know that isn't the case.
“How do they know he's...” I stop myself, realizing I'm being too specific. “How do they know one's in Pueblo?”
“There's a portion of the Hybrid Reanimate black market dedicated to hiding those freaks,” Caesar answers with a breath of smoke. “Usually parents who have enough to pay for the shady services to keep their Ugger child a secret, but not enough for the guardianship. Those offering the services put a lot of effort into covering their tracks, but now and then they get sloppy. Loose ends, paper trails, anonymous tips...
“Anyway, some of the trails have crossed through your neck of the woods. The Collars say there's now enough evidence to suggest an unregistered has been hiding out in Pueblo for almost six years. They're out there today, knocking on doors.” He starts laughing again, taking one last hit of his paper, before flicking it across the room. “If you keep your eyes open, you could bag yourself an Ugger!”
I don't need to do that, because I already know who it is. It's me. And while I've only been a Hybrid Reanimate for four years, I'm certain it can't be anybody else. Maybe Gibbs had some lead time, some illegal transactions in preparation for my arrival. Or, maybe the Collars are picking things up from the first Hybrid he was the caretaker of before me, the one that attacked him, all of it adding up to about six years.
He was so foolish to think he could get away with this for so long, without making any mistakes. And my parents, whoever they are and wherever they may be, were foolish for trusting him to get the job done. But it's all over now. Not having a Mortetine supply doesn't seem to matter anymore. I'll probably be captured before this week is up anyway. Maybe even by the end of the day.
But then I look down at the paper in my hands again, and something registers in me that didn't the first time I read it. Perhaps, this won't all be in vain. Maybe my existence might still have a purpose.
I can still save Genny.
My eyes meet Caesar's. “How much is this cash reward?”
Chapter 34
$500,000.
That's how much the life of an unregistered Hybrid Reanimate is worth, how much the APA is willing to pay for capturing one of society's most feared threats. Before I started my illegal transactions with Caesar, I had no grasp on the worth of money. I now know that five thousand dollars can – or at least used to – buy me four hundred Mortetine pills. But $500,000? The number is one hundred times more than my monthly supply of meds. It's too large for me to comprehend.
This isn't the first time I've heard that number, though. On the night Gordon visited me outside my basement, he mentioned that the fees to obtain guardianship for his daughter after her transformation would total roughly $500,000. Is the connection a coincidence, or what Caesar described as destiny? Whatever the case may be, it's gotten my attention. And between that and the fact that the APA is getting closer to finding Gibbs – and ultimately me – it's now clear what must be done.
I get turned in, Gordon gets the money, Genny gets saved. It's the only way.
I wish things could be different. I wish I could convince Genny to forgive me, to be my friend again, to spend what little time we have left together. But now that time is a luxury I can't burn foolishly, running out faster for me than for her. Caesar said the Collars were already knocking on doors in Pueblo right now, so how long before they're at Gibbs's door step? I can't wait around to find out.
Without another word, I leave Caesar Ortega alone in his filthy house, with only his Sludge purging fantasies to keep him company. The next time I'll see him will be in the Colorado Territorial Containment Facility. I can only imagine the expression on his face when he finally realizes who I was this whole time: his much-hated enemy, right under his very nose. And though I'm sure he'll make me pay dearly for that, the thought of his initial reaction gives me a glimmer of amusement, in the face of what will be a very dark future.
My first instinct is to go next door to the Grest house, but it's a Friday morning, and both Genny and her father aren't at home. Waiting on their porch might seem too suspicious, in the event Caesar walks out his front door and sees me standing there. The only plan of action is to travel back to Pueblo, speak with Genny at school one last time, then reveal to Gordon what must be done when he picks her up. This will be my last day out in the world, before I'm locked away forever, where I've deser
ved to be all along.
After waiting for over an hour at the only stop in Cañon City, sitting directly across from what will be my final destination, I board the bus and head home one last time.
It's just after noon when I arrive in Pueblo. For a moment I contemplate taking a quick detour to my basement, devouring all the pork in my refrigerator, and telling Gibbs what is about to happen. Once I let Gordon turn me in, the immediate backlash will be Gibbs's imprisonment for his involvement in the Hybrid Reanimate black market. All the effort he's put into keeping my secret safe over the last four years, feeding me, training me... all a waste.
I feel I owe it to him to at least disclose what I'm about to do, and why I'm doing it. Our relationship is a peculiar one, a side effect of the business arrangement between a criminal and my invisible parents. But I now realize he's been the only one present for the vast majority of my horrific second life. Even if he was just doing it for the money, he was there when my mother and father weren't. In a sense, he is the only form of family I have.
But if the APA is already closing in on him, prison is where he'll end up anyway, and I don't want to risk the possibility of him securing himself in denial, and locking me down in the basement. My chance of saving Genny would effectively be destroyed. So I won't be seeing him again. And though I feel guilty over not saying good bye, and letting the coming events blindside him, there's nothing else I can do.
I take a few Mortetine from the plastic bag, toss them down my throat, and make my way towards the school. This time of day, all students are in the cafeteria, the area I hate most in this place. Everyone is laughing and talking, enjoying their food, while I choke down dry pork between two starchy buns, my Prisoner's eyes viewing the virtual buffet surrounding me, alternating between pangs of unholy hunger and crippling nausea.
As I near the cafeteria, the sights and smells overwhelm me, and I stop for a moment outside of its double doors. One last time, I tell myself. I must endure this just once more, and then the only humans around me will be Caesar Ortega and his cruel containment guards, likely possessing the ability to easily restrain me. Kill me, if necessary. I won't have to fear my Prisoner hurting anyone, and that thought is oddly comforting.
One last time.
I attempt to hold my breath as I enter, as if the student body's collective fleshy scent is a noxious fume that will render me uncontrollable if inhaled. I also pass several females, my Prisoner sickly insisting that they want me to take them, and do to them what my nature craves. Again, the thought of never having to undergo this in containment comes to mind, and that strange sense of peace fills me.
But then I see her, alone at a table at the back of the cafeteria, and that feeling dissolves. Genny's face only reminds of the one thing I truly want, but what will eternally be out of my reach once I let Gordon turn me in. If there was any other way, that's what I would want. But there isn't. This is where I say good bye to the last thing keeping me remotely human.
I walk slowly towards her table, and at first she doesn't notice me. Then her eyes meet mine, and she looks quickly away, making it obvious that she still doesn't want me in her life. The pain inside increases, making what I'm about to do seem all the more necessary. I continue closer, until I'm only a few feet away from her table, and it's finally clear to her that I'm not just passing by. She shakes her head, letting a sharp breath escape before standing up to walk away.
“Genny,” I hiss, afraid that if I speak too loudly, I might scare her more than I already have. She stops in her tracks, but keeps her back to me, her shoulders tense. “I need to talk with you.”
She stands still for a moment, shaking her head again, before turning to face me. “I already told you, I don't want to see you!” she snaps, the expression on her face absolutely icy.
“I know,” I say, my eyes dropping to the floor, unable to keep her gaze. “But after today, you won't ever have to worry about that again. I'm... I'll be going away.”
Her face loosens a little, and a hint of confusion comes over it. Then she crosses her arms, trying to regain her peeved demeanor. “What do you mean?” she asks, the edge still in her voice. “Where are you going?”
I stand there for a moment, wondering how best to reveal to her what I'm about to do, and that I'm doing it for her. Would she even believe it if I told her? Would she accept it? Even though she has made it perfectly clear how she feels about what I said – and what I did – that day in my basement, I can still sense some trace fragments of the friendship she has for me, and the slight amount of concern in her voice. If she finds out that I'm about to let her father turn me in to ensure her safety, she might try to talk me out of it. Try to keep me from containment, even though that's where I'll go anyway. And it's what I deserve.
This is already too painful, I don't want to drag it out any longer.
“It doesn't matter where I'm going,” I say. “I just wanted to tell you... tell you how I feel.”
Her breathing increases, in and out of her nose, her mouth shut tightly and grimly. “And how do you feel?” she asks, her eyes growing slightly moist, reminding me of the last time I spoke with her.
“Guilty,” I say. “Evil. Despicable. Violent. Unworthy. You deserve a friend better than me. Not a monster who said what I said, and...” I pause, choking on the memories. Hating myself. “...did what I did. I hurt you, Genny. I hurt the only good thing in my life. I ruined it all. And I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm...”
Before I can say anymore, she crosses the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder. Her body shudders with sobbing, and she clings tighter to me. This will be the last time I will ever feel this. I don't want to let go.
“I missed you,” she says in muffled, shallow breaths. “I missed you so much, Zaul.”
“But what I did,” I say, pulling back from her. “It was wrong. Terribly wrong.”
“Yes,” Genny says, wiping tears from her eyes. “It was. But that wasn't you. It was your Prisoner, taking control. The real you would never hurt anyone. And that's why I don't want any other friend. I want you. Only you.”
Light and warmth envelope me, giving the feeling of euphoria. I never thought I'd hear someone say those words, and now they fill me with an indescribable, utterly addictive sensation. But then realization hits me, and the good feelings are ripped away. This reconciliation will be short-lived – and meaningless, in the end. “I'm going away, Genny.”
“No you're not,” she says with a giggle, wiping more moisture from her face, smearing the blue eyeshadow. “I'm not losing you again, and that's that!”
“But I really don't have a choice. I'm...” I pause to find the words, but I still can't say them. “I'm going away. To a place I can never come back from.”
“What?” she says, giggling again, this time more nervous and subdued. “What are you saying, Zaul?” Her eyes squint, trying to read my face. “Are you... did you... did you do something?”
“No. It's not what I've done, but what I'm going to do.” Genny shakes her head, unable – or unwilling – to pick up what I'm trying to convey. I let out a heavy breath, agonized over the words I must say. “I'm going to let your father turn me in. I'm going to containment.”
“What?” she hisses, confusion and pain in her voice. “No! You can't do that! Wh- Why?!?!”
I pull the paper notice I got from Caesar's house out of my pocket, unfolding it and handing it to her. “There's a cash reward for the capture of unregistered Hybrid Reanimates, $500,000. That's enough for your father to pay for your guardianship fees.”
“No,” she says again, shaking her head, giving the paper back by forcefully pushing it onto my chest. “I can't let you do that. I won't. You're not what you think you are, Zaul. You don't belong in that place.”
“And neither do you,” I counter.
“But I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me. I don't deserve that.”
“Well, whether you do or not, I'm going to contai
nment anyway. Caesar said that APA Collars are closing in on a potential unregistered Hybrid Reanimate in Pueblo right now. It's me.”
“But you don't know that,” she says.
“That's just wishful thinking. It is me. And if I'm going to get captured anyway, why not turn myself in, and use the money to keep you safe? It's the best thing to do in this situation. Admit it.”
“You... you...” Her words are fumbling, her speech breaking down in desperation. The tears start to flow again as she looks down at the floor. “You could run away. We could run away. It doesn't have to end like this. We can look out for each other.”
“Why?” I bark, growing frustrated. “Why make this even harder? Why delay the inevitable? If they can track me down in hiding, they definitely can while I'm on the run. And when they do, I'm going straight to that facility anyway. Why risk all that, just for only a little more time? Why, Genny?”
“Because I can't lose you.” Her gaze meets mine, eyes wet and red, words hanging on her trembling lips. “Because I... I...”
Before she can finish her sentence, a single loud voice can be heard ringing throughout the cafeteria, silencing all the students. At first I can't comprehend it, but soon I detect one screamed word, repeated over and over again, echoing off the tiled walls:
Freaks!
Everyone drops what they're doing, stops eating or drinking, and looks in the direction of the loud voice.
FREAKS!
It's louder now, coming closer, though the crowd of students makes it difficult to figure out who is screaming this.
FREAKS!!!
And then I see him.
Dalton.
Chapter 35
He stops in between two cafeteria tables, just a few yards away from us. The bruises on his face have completely disappeared now, but the scowl he wears is more menacing than I've ever seen. He's staring right at me, and everyone's gaze follows his, so that now all eyes are on us. I frantically fold up the APA reward notice and shove it back in my pocket. Genny wraps her arm around mine, clutching to me for safety. And though I would do anything to offer that to her, I'm not sure I can. Whatever Dalton is doing here, it can't be good. I want to clamp his mouth shut before he speaks another word, but I'd probably end up killing him.