Amped Up

by Merrell Michael

  "He does this." Brian says, shying away from my gaze. "Whenever he gets someone new."

  For some insane reason, I feel jealous. "He's done this before?" I ask.

  "With guys." Brian says. "He brings them in, and tests them out. For EAP. It’s sort of a membership deal."

  "Great." I can feel my cheeks burning.

  "I mean, with the guys." He says. "I don’t think he has a boner. I didn’t hear about the, uh, nudity thing, before. So you, uh, don’t have to worry about that."

  "Why would I worry?"

  Now its Brian’s turn to blush. "If you, uh." He stammers. "Galilee has that effect on people. On the ladies."

  "Don’t worry about it." I say. "The only effect he had on me is pissing me off. For as I'm concerned, that guys a psychotic pervert. And what he's done to my head, I want it turned off." I didn’t know I felt that way until I said what I did, with conviction. But it was there.

  Brian sighed. "I understand." He said. "The problem here, if you'll look at it, is that everything is pushing this way."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  He gestured with his hands. "The cops are looking for you in Virginia." He said. "So that’s a bust. Your mom could help you, but she isn’t here anymore. She sent you in this direction, to Glen." He folded an index finger over his middle finger. "Glen and Galilee, there like that. So, Your mom sent you to Glen, who fed you to Galilee. It’s even possible your mother knew about Galilee in the first place. She almost certainly new about EAP."

  My mind is whirring. "I don’t know." I say. "I can’t think that."

  "Kara." Brian says. "EAP is the biggest thing happening right here. He's lining people up, all over the country. And you need to be part of it."

  "I'm a schoolteacher." I tell him. "I don’t kill people."

  "One of those guys did." Brian said. "The one you were telling me about with the high and tight sounds a lot like Duane Johnson. He microwaved a bottle of baby oil, and threw it all over a twelve year old girl. She died in the hospital."

  A chill creeps up my back. "He wasn’t arrested?"

  "The cops around here don’t look to closely at what happens to Amps." Brian said. "Especially if you’re from Haven. They might have asked him a few questions, might even have picked him up to do it. But the fact is, he's alive and she's not."

  "Even if he did." I sink to my knees. "I didn’t want to...have to do that."

  "I don’t think it was right. Brian said. "I don’t agree with Galilee's means. I might agree with his ends, but I'm not even a hundred percent on what that is. And that's why I need you. Why we need you."

  "Who is we?" I ask. "Who besides you is in this?"

  Brian leans forward. "Glen." He says, his voice barely higher than a whisper. "Glen wants control of EAP back. He knows he can’t challenge Galilee directly. If you can get inside, and sway the members to Glen, we might have a handle on this thing. But we need your help."

  ****

  Looking back on it, it should have taken more effort to persuade me to join a domestic terrorist organization. But it didn’t. I went up to Galilee, told him "I'm in" although I can’t be sure if I used those words or not. He nodded once.

  After that I was on the back of a con-ex box in a tractor trailer, filled with myself, twelve others in my group, and Galilee. "There are no secret handshakes, or passwords." He said to me, tapping the maintenance port on his head. "You either are an Amp, and we trust you, or you aren’t and we don’t. If you are an Amp we trust you because we are the only option, the norms want your head on a stick. If you’re a norm, you can do nothing for us."

  This was the universe as Galilee saw it, black and white, us and them. There was one other object besides the thirteen passengers on the con-ex box, and that was thirteen black duffel bags, stuffed full with weapons and munitions. I had never seen them stored in Haven, I had never seen them used or spoken of. They simply were there, when it was time to load up, and we put them on the floor across from us.

  It was dark in the back of the con-ex trailer. Or rather it would have been dark, if not for the single bulb hanging from the top, attached by an extension cord. The white light swung back and forth with the bustling of the trailer, casting crazy shadows against us. The others did not talk, so the only noise was the roar of road and engine around us. One man took out a knife, and examined it, then made to pick his fingernails with the tip. Another brought out a notebook, and began to write. They took turns urinating in an empty plastic gallon jug, and when it was full to the brim, they would open the end of the trailer a crack, just enough to send the piss bomb into the void of the empty road beyond. I was the only women, and there were no accommodations. When I mentioned this to Galilee, he grimaced, and a bedpan was brought forward. The men turned away in a group, backs to me like gentlemen, while I relieved myself.

  Hours passed.

  We stopped for some short time. A man came and climbed into the back, and another climbed out. It took a minute for me to register that we were changing drivers. Food was passed around, gas station food, sandwiches and hot dogs of questionable value, with chips, cans of coke, or bottles of Gatorade. The men talked a little among themselves. Some of the tension was broken with the food. I had the feeling this was unusual for some, but not others.

  "This is a big part of it." Galilee said, as if he could read my mind. "The waiting."

  "Where are we going?" I asked, realizing that I hadn’t before.

  "Arizona." He said. "A target in Arizona. A long drive from Haven. You should get some sleep."

  "I’m not tired." I told him.

  "It doesn’t matter." He said. "There's a subroutine in your actuator, to get you a few hours of deep REM no matter what. When you Amped Up, the actuator goes through a lot less strain on a well-rested brain."

  "They taught you about this thing." I tap the maintenance port on my temple. "In the army?"

  "Some." Galilee said. "Glen filled in the rest. Mens Machina in Mens sana in corpore sano. A sound machine in a sound mind in a healthy body."

  After Galilee said ___ which was the keyword, and I got a few hours of that deep REM stuff. I knew he did it because when I came to the words were there in front of me, REM ACHIEVED. If there was a power bar for my head, I knew it would sport full bars. I was awake somehow at the very moment the rear door of the con-ex opened, and it was time to jump out.

  No one was speaking. Ammunition was being handed out. Someone handed me a Kalashnikov assault rifle, which was surprisingly light for its size. I was standing next to Galilee, and another hard-looking man, with a long brown beard.

  "Teddy." Galilee was saying. "Kara's one of us, from the project."

  "Fantastic." Teddy said. "I didn’t think they made any more. It’s going to be good to have two operators on this."

  I was catching on. "The rest of them aren’t-"

  "Just amps." Galilee said. "Most of them with a body performance package for fast twitch hand eye co-ordination. Some with just a bigger than average IQ, and a little trigger time. EAP uses what it can get."

  "How many times has she gone live?" Teddy asked.

  "Just once." Galilee said. "But it was with me, in Haven. I can vouch for her capabilities. You can use her for hard targets."

  Hard targets. I repeat the word over and over, in my head. Hard targets. Hard targets.

  Were gathered around Galilee, with weapons ready.

  "Listen up." He says. "Target is a private detention facility. Formerly used for Mexican nationals. Now exclusively housing our guys, and one very high value target- Michael Dent. Michael is a dot com guy, with a lot of liquid capitol, and he's family. He's in there on suspicion of being one of us."

  "Shit." Someone says. "Their locking up rich guys now?"

  "Dent isn’t EAP." Galilee says. "At least not yet. Our job is to go get him, bust him out, and convince him to use some of those assets for the cause. The wheels of revolution need to greased with cash."

  "Cause a little collateral
mayhem along the way." Teddy adds. "Were taking a series of explosive breaches through the walls. If you get the chance, to take out a guard, or set someone loose, do it. There's going to be resistance on the way out, so be prepared. Trucks arrive half an hour after the breach. If you don’t want to be left, be there."

  "Loud and hot." Galilee says. "The guys working that joint are getting paid minimum wage, with no benefits. Contractors. We are the next stage in human evolution. This should be a fast, clean, op. Whatever anyone’s Amped up to be, get to your top level. Run that way until were clear."

  Galilee looks straight at me. "Kara and Teddy." He says. "Activate now."

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  Go.

  ****

  It can’t be described. But that’s what I'm doing. I'm describing my actions. As they were, as they are now. How my hands now exactly how to hold the rifle, as I run, how when we stop I drop to one knee, and peer through the scope. placing that red dot in front of me, at the target.

  How I know how to run, and not get tired, and keep space between me and the rest of the team, the man to my right and left, how to check my peripheral vision for them at all times. We unloaded in the dark. The prison was nowhere close. I know it has been seven miles, just as I know everything else. My Actuator is spinning in my brain, humming, a source of many things. I love it like something ugly, like a junky loves its pipe. Like a dog loves a pile of feces (for eating). It is part of me and together we are running in the dark, to kill.

  I have to slow down. I would easily outpace all of them. Why are they so slow? Do they not like to run. My legs are made of energy. I would do. To run.

  We are prone now. Just two hundred yards from the prison fence. Laying in the grass, rifle out front. Waiting. Teddy crawls up next to me. "Did you run track?" He's saying. "God, your fast. Like a fucking gazelle."

  I ignore him and bring up my weapon. "High mast lights." Teddy says. "Take them all out. After that, I'll hit the RPG."

  The two moments happen almost back to back. I shoot out each light, and in the distance I can hear the pop and tinkle of shattering glass. Teddy takes out the RPG, and the rocket shoots forth, edging toward the wall. The explosive finds its mark. I am disappointed to see the thing is unlike the movies, no ball of fire, just a cloud of dust and smoke, from broken rock. Teddy says "G-" And I can tell he is about to say go, so I beat him to the moment, and leave already. Sprinting the distance to the broken wall, and mangled razor wire.

  Inside the guards seem to be moving in slow motion. As if they were swimming through currents of air. My assault rifle is already on them, aiming center mass. I recognize, with a sense of ridicule, that their uniform consists of white polo shirts, They are armed with batons, wooden sticks, and Tasers.

  What can I say about the actions? I am discovered a deep dark well, within myself. The joy of kill. Of overpowering the other, the one you are allowed to take, and ending him. The joy of being good at a task you were made for. Like Ray Bradbury's fireman, it was a pleasure to burn. It was a pleasure to kill.

  When time speeds up again there are bodies littering the floor, like puppets or dolls. Scattered mannequins. I am in front of a cell with Teddy, he is burning through the lock with a handheld acetylene torch. The door opens and we enter, pointing weapons at a very confused looking man, who is thin to the point of possible starvation.

  "This is him." Teddy says. "The HVT." Just like that, the marker appears before me in white letters, HVT-friendly. Teddy cuts the leather straps at the prisoner's hands and feet. Then he hefts him up wordlessly, over his shoulder like a potato sack. I am feeling slightly overwhelmed just then, the green and white paint on the walls, the floor bare concrete. There is an alarm blaring in the distance, the sounds of boots hitting the floor. Teddy looks back at me. "Stay focused." He says. "Stay deep inside. You can’t come out yet. Don’t forget, we need you."

  ****

  Things are confusing on the way out.

  ****

  Somewhere between stealing the police cruiser and ripping apart a chain link fence, it hits me; there was no exit strategy. We were sent in to get one man, which we did, and then left to the best of our devices. Teddy is in the passenger seat, firing back at the enemy giving chase. The HVT is slumped over in the back, behind the clear plastic partition meant to keep drunks and arrestees away from the cops. I am driving, foot mashed down on the accelerator. Slow motion is happening. The police cruisers behind us have their lights on, flickering blue and white, but their sirens are off. There is a sound of helicopters behind us, the wings beating the air thok thok thok like alien hummingbirds. The night air is alternately cool and warm, through the driver’s side window that has not been opened but broken through. Bits of glass tinkle musically as they break off, with the intensity of the chase.

  ****

  Presently we are at the hotel.

  ****

  I am coming down, all at once and hard. The displays are flickering in and out, white letters overlaying the neon from outside the window, blurred with raindrops. I am thinking of ideas brought to me, in the recent past. Owen Meany telling me all this has happened before. My mother's comments about impractical dress. I am wearing combat boots and jet black fatigues now, mother, I am as practical as humanly possible. Ugly practical, deadly practical.

  Teddy is groaning from the bathroom. I can hear the sound of Galilee's footsteps, soft padding, like a cat. He stops inches away from the bed. I am laying down on my back, feet dangling off, staring at the ceiling or out the window. Listening to the music the raindrops make. I wonder if he will take advantage of my vulnerability, cut my throat, or gently nuzzle my cheek with one finger....

  "Teddy's dead." Galilee says, matter of fatly.

  "When did that happen?" I hear myself ask.

  "A few minutes from now." Galilee says. "I've given him enough dope to keep him comfortable. Codeine."

  "So it hasn’t happened yet." I say."

  Galilee gently rests on the edge of the mattress, his thigh near my hair. "What's the difference?" He says. "If something's a given eventuality, with no means of prevention, its already happened. It’s called predetermination."

  "I don’t want to believe that."

  "Why not?"

  "With everything that’s happened."

  "You don’t like the ugly stuff." He says. "I get it. You were a schoolteacher, not like me. Not a soldier. But the ugly stuff is resting, deep down, inside you. Waiting to come out."

  I brush my hair away from the maintenance port on my temple. "You mean the Actuator."

  "Not just that." His grip turns suddenly rough, hand snaking under my shirt, and pinching my nipple. I cry out, unexpectedly, but the pain is almost pleasant. "Desires and needs." He says. "We think we run ourselves, but the truth is we do what we were programmed to. Following the path of least resistance. Wants."

  ****

  Galilee could stand it no longer.

  Kara was laying there on the bed, and his hand was on one nipple, pinching it. She was beautiful in a way that made him crazy, pale with red hair, green eyes. Her nipples were a delicate shade of pink. She shuddered when he touched her, and cried out a little.

  Quickly his hands moved down to her pants, and an latched the button on her trousers. She helped him pull them off. She had a shaved pussy, which turned him off a little, he enjoyed a little hair on a woman. Something for him to think of maturity. But right about her lips was a tattoo, with in flowing script read: Lovely.

  "When did you get this?" He asked her, while playing with her clit just a half inch below.

  "College." She said. "I was with a friend.

  "Why tattoo your pussy?"

  "My friend was getting something worse.

  "What was worse?" His fingers were inside her now, feeling the wetness.

  "Her asshole." Kara breathed heavy.

  "What does someone get tattooed on their asshole.

  "A star- starfish."


  He brought his cock to her mouth, and she sucked it eagerly. She was a fine cocksucker, and brought him to the edge quickly. Little movements of her tongue, around his foreskin and head. Details that were observed.

  When he mounted her, it was as it should have been, the slapping sound of flesh, the creaking of the mattress, skritch skritch skritch matched with slap slap slap, and her cries

  "Ahn! Ahn Oh!"

  There was something he did, staring off at the wall, that made her feel unwanted. He was doing it to prolong himself. He shuddered as he came.

  Seven

  In the morning when I get out to pee and rub the sperm off me, there’s Teddy in the bathroom, stark dead. I jump a little, and move back, considering. Teddy's skin is the color of a white sheet, or maybe a grey one. There are bandages on his chest that have turned a deep brown with blood.

  I start to laugh a little, despite myself. There have been corpses everywhere. And now one where I need to piss. Somehow I manage to contain things. Put on my black fatigue shirt and pants. There is are three key cards next to the bed where Galilee is asleep bare-assed. I take the one for the room next door. Barefoot on the concrete landing, I knock hesitantly, then swipe the card to open it. Michael Dent, the High Value Target, is handcuffed to the bed.

  "Hello." He says.

  "Can I use your bathroom?" I ask.

  He rattles the handcuff against the bedpost. "I'm hardly in a position to say no."

  "Thanks." I tell him.

  One piss, shower and shampoo later, and I feel like a new woman. Aches are starting in, deep aches where I bumped against something the night before. Feeling like I ran a marathon. I come out humming to myself, hair wrapped up in the towel.

  "I'm pretty hungry." Dent says. "Do you think you could get me some food?"

  "I don’t really have anything." I tell him.

  "There's a burger kind across the street." Dent says. "I've been staring at the sign all night. Its driving me nuts."