“It’s okay, son. My time has come. I don’t have to be strong any more; I don’t have to suffer any more—”
“No, Mommy, don’t talk like that!” Isabel cried.
“Shhh-shhh…let me have a good look at you both…my you’ve grown, Cory. You take good care of your sister now; don’t let anyone touch her face like that again.” Elizabeth turned her head to look at Isabel. “Bell, my beautiful girl. Be strong for him, he’ll need you. There’s nothing more I can give to the both of you. It’s time for me to be with the Lord.” With that, she closed her eyes and relaxed, her face looking peaceful for the first time during the day’s long ordeal.
“Where’s the cure?” Isabel asked, turning to the Doctor.
“It’s safe with the other group,” Bienaimé answered. “Let’s get everyone into the truck and get out of here. Cory, I’ll pull the truck up, and then you can come out with your mother.”
As the others exited the room, only Cory and Isabel remained with their mother. They held each other close and took comfort in the silence. When the time came, Cory scooped up Elizabeth in his arms and carried her outside, and two men helped him place Elizabeth into the truck.
They made her as comfortable as possible on the flat metal surface, and Cory cradled her in his arms as they drove back to the camping site to regroup with the others.
Chants of victory from a group of huddled people greeted them upon their arrival, but Cory felt more defeated than ever before. Elizabeth had drifted to sleep during the ride, and Cory gently slid from under her, while Isabel moved into place and held her close. Hopping out of the truck, Cory joined Lana, and they followed Bienaimé to greet Alex.
“Ahh, welcome back, glad everything went well,” Alex said, shaking Bienaimé’s hand.
“Yes, just as we planned,” Bienaimé replied.
“Where are the prisoners?”
“They all scattered home, but we have a way to find them when the time comes.”
“Perfect - and the doctor?”
“— Still in the truck. Do you have the briefcase?”
“Yes, it’s right here,” Alex said, lifting his hand. “There’s one more thing…”
Bienaimé studied Alex’s face for a moment, sensing he had discovered something disturbing while at the research facility. He waved at Jeff, Zaire, and Charles to join them. They spoke in low voices, so the others in the camp wouldn’t hear.
“It’s even worse than we imagined, Bienaimé,” Alex said.
“What? Explain what you mean,” Zaire demanded.
“I hacked into Dr. Phils’ secured files, and the biometric chips aren’t meant for the general population,” Alex continued. “The targeted population are the folks inside the cities. And the chips are lethal. If not for our healing abilities, these chips can kill by short-circuiting the human brain.”
“And they just developed a cure to neutralize that ability,” Bienaimé added.
“My God,” Lana said, covering her mouth to stifle the scream she felt might escape. She looked up at Cory, “What about Grandma?”
She had made up her mind not to leave Cory, but now she wanted to get her grandmother out of the city. Cory wrapped his arms around her, lending her his strength.
Bienaimé gave them a moment, then said, his eyes full of compassion, “Darlin’, we can’t deal with troubles that aren’t yet here. Let’s take care of one thing at a time.” He motioned to Alex to continue.
“The research facility was using the prisoners as test subjects. Keeping the sick in dire conditions to test out the full capabilities of ATHENS. The rest of the prisoners underwent a series of experiments.” Alex paused and glanced over his shoulders. “We don’t know their plans for us ‘regular folks’, but we can’t trust the prisoners. Some of them already have the chip implanted in their skull.”
They stood silently for a moment, considering the implications, until Bienaimé rallied them once more. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, but first things first.” He took the briefcase from Alex, and said,
Thanks. I’ll explain later.” Turning, he handed it to Cory. “Go, get this to your mother.”
Cory took the case. Taking Bienaimé aside, he said, “Not right here, not like this. I want to take her home. Can I use your car?”
“Sure, son. Now go to her,” Bienaimé said, giving Cory his car keys.
Cory took the keys and passed them to Lana. Going back to the truck to get his mother, he saw Dr. Phils being watched by one of Zaire’s man. There was something he needed to ask.
Walking up to the doctor, Cory pulled him on the shoulder, forcing him to turn around.
“Back there, what did my mom whisper in your ear?” he questioned.
“Nothing…she thanked me for keeping her alive,” Dr. Phils answered.
Releasing the doctor, Cory started walking off when Dr. Phils stopped him.
“I see you have the cure…so you will use it on her after all.”
Cory glanced down at the briefcase, a look of great sorrow on his face - and then there it was - Dr. Phils’ sudden change of heart.
“I-I’m sorry,” he said to Cory, clearing his throat, “I can tell she was a good woman.”
Any man could have looked in his face and known he was sincere. Cory nodded before disappearing into the truck.
“We’re taking her home,” he said to Isabel as he climbed in.
Lana drove up and honked. While Isabel held the briefcase, Cory carried his mother down the loading ramp and into the backseat of Bienaimé’s Mercedes. They laid her down, letting her head rest on Isabel’s lap. Once they were all settled, Lana drove out.
The ride back home was smooth. Lana never sped. She wanted to give Cory and his sister as much time possible with their mother. Once they were home, Cory lifted his mother out of the car while Isabel rushed to open the front door of the house. Lana held the briefcase with one hand, using the other to draw out her weapon and keep watch. One look at his mother’s face and Cory knew he’d made the right decision in bringing her back home. Elizabeth rejoiced when she was finally put to rest on her own bed.
Lana stood in the corner of the room while Cory and Isabel tended to Elizabeth. She didn’t want to intrude, so she kept to herself. She pushed aside the urge to leave them alone in the room; she couldn’t leave Cory - not right now.
“Oh, it’s just as I remember. It’s so good to be home,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Lana, come here, dear.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, walking over.
“You have been a blessing ever since you came into my son’s life. You’re heaven sent, and I hope he can see that. Thank you, baby - for being a part of my family.”
Elizabeth’s spirit was high. Although she felt discomfort, the pain was now tolerable as she spoke her last good-byes. She made sure nothing was left unsaid as she expressed the love she had for all of them. By the time she had finished, not a single dry eye remained in the room.
Settling back into her own bed, propped on her pillows, Elizabeth said softly, “Okay, Cory, I’m ready.”
The briefcase felt heavy and cold as he set it on top of the bed, and popped it open. With trembling hands and tear-blurred vision, he froze - staring at the syringe now lying in his hand. He had no way of knowing how much time his mother would have after he injected it. All he knew was that she would be gone forever.
Cory began shaking all over as images of his dying mother plagued his mind. Seeing his distress, his mother reached out for his hand and grabbed it, her grasp firm and full of conviction.
“It’s all right, son, put everything in God’s hands.”
“God?” Cory cried out. “How can you still utter his name, Momma? After all you’ve been through? Where was he to protect you? You worked your body to— “
“Cory,” Isabel yelled, trying to calm him as Lana took a step closer.
“Shhh-shhh,” Elizabeth hissed at Isabel. “Let him go.”
“Momma, every day you woke up and did everythin
g according to his word, and what did you get out of it, huh? Cancer? And now you’re forced to die. I can’t accept that. If there is a God, why do bad things keep happening to us? There is nothing but bad things in this world!”
Elizabeth’s heart broke as she felt her son’s pain. Her eyes were like puddles; her lips trembled as she gathered her thoughts and searched for the right words to leave with her son.
“Baby, I’m sorry I wasn’t rich and had to work like I did. I’m sorry my body was weak, and I got sick. I’m sorry your father left. Baby…” Cory, close to collapsing, knelt down and laid his head on the edge of the bed, and she stroked his hair. “Cory, don’t blame God when the person you really want to blame is me.”
Cory lifted his head and opened his mouth to object, but she shushed him and continued, “I’m leaving you today, don’t be like the others and not take ownership for what you do. God doesn’t let bad things happen in this world; we do. Give him the glory.”
Elizabeth looked at Isabel, then back to her son. “Cory, when I had cancer, I was dying. Chemo wasn’t working. I prayed every night for God not to take me away from you unless I knew you were going to be all right. Every night, son, I prayed for him to give me the strength to see another day.”
Cory rocked back onto his heels, tears streaming down his cheeks as Isabel and Lana stood helplessly behind him.
“Now look, the effects of my cancer have been postponed, and I finally get to see that you can take care of yourself. More importantly, you’re doing something special…it was all worth it, son. Now please give me the gift of death. Don’t deny me God’s final blessing.”
Cory cried and cried until he had no tears left. He looked deeply into his mother’s eyes, and whispered an apology to her. Summoning every ounce of courage he had within him, he took the cap off the syringe.
“Momma, I love you.”
“I know, son. I know…”
Taking a deep breath, he slowly injected the contents into his mother’s forearm as Lana moved in closer.
“Come, Isabel, pray for me,” Elizabeth said, holding onto her children’s hands. “Close your eyes, Cory - you too, Lana.”
Isabel said a quick prayer, and then, one by one, they all opened their eyes - except for Elizabeth. Cory shook his mother’s lifeless body, desperate to keep her with them longer. He wouldn’t have stopped shaking her if Lana hadn’t restrained him.
“She’s gone, Cory,” she said, holding him tight.
Breaking free from her grasp, Cory bolted to the corner and collapsed to his knees; his head sunk onto his chest as he pounded his fist on the floor. His tears found their way back to him, and flowed without ceasing. His heart shattered, and he mourned and felt himself close to dying from grief.
Then, in an instant, clarity flooded his mind. He understood his mother’s death was a precedent, not just for him, but also to the rest of the world. She wasn’t coming back to life like the others. No - she was gone for good, and no matter how loud Cory begged for her; nothing could bring her back.
Sensing a change in him, Isabel hugged him from behind, and Lana embraced them both. They stayed there, side-by-side, grief stricken, consoling each other.
“You don’t’ have to be strong right now,” Isabel pleaded with Cory, crying. “This time I will be there for you.”
*
A few hours after the death of his mother, Cory acted like she wasn’t gone. Lana thought he was taking his mother’s death well - even being strong, maybe - but she was wrong. On the outside, Cory seemed okay, but deep down inside, his body burned with rage - angry with anyone who had taken a part in his mother’s passing, including himself.
That night, he did not sleep. He was numb. It was his body’s way of dealing with the disbelief he was experiencing - disbelief that his mother was laying lifeless in the next room. In the morning, they buried Elizabeth in the backyard. Dressed in black, they each stood still, saying their last good-byes.
“Get some sleep, Cory,” Isabel said, walking back into the house.
Cory nodded, but remained where he stood, holding onto Lana. An hour went by, and not a word was spoken. Finally, Cory looked down at Lana and said, “Can I get a second alone?”
“Sure,” she replied, squeezing his hand, then returned to the house.
Cory remained in silence for a moment before looking up above.
“God,” he shouted. “I don’t know if you’re there, but I need you.”
He stood there, letting his words resonate as if he was talking to someone on the physical plane. He blew a kiss to his mother, then turned around and headed inside. As he entered the home where his mother had raised Isabel and him, he knew he would soon have to leave it behind.
Cory took one last look at the small patch of disturbed earth in the garden, his lips turning up in a grim smile, and swore on her grave all who were responsible for The Sabbath would get what was coming to them - starting with Dr. Phils. The death of his mother brought out a consolation prize: vengeance.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Arthur Nsenga is a college student completing his Masters in Political Science at Carleton University, Ottawa. He writes stories to escape the torments of his college professors. When he is not writing or cramming for a test, he is adding new content to his website @ www.arthurnsenga.com.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shaunakay Francis is a recent graduate from Carleton University. Although she has a degree in psychology, she has had a passion for writing for a long time, having published several poems. Now, having completed her undergraduate studies, she plans to immerse herself more in her writing.
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