Frenzy

by Dawn Brazil

  I scramble for the nearest room. I don't bother to look at the number on the door as I fling it open and barge inside.

  Suddenly, I’m stricken by an inexplicable sensation—I’m nervous to turn around. My nightmare dream come to life might be awaiting me when I turn. All the doctors will stop operating, and strap me to the table to cut my head open. I strain for a familiar sound, like the sharp wail of a handsaw.

  It’s silent.

  When I turn, gurneys line the room from wall to wall. The silver carts, draped with white sheets, I assume, have dead bodies beneath them. For a split second, I’m frozen in place. It’s silly to be frightened of someone who can’t get up and do anything. Still, I decide there’s nothing in this room for me until I notice it. A dark blue cap with the single raised yellow button at the front. I snatch the picture from my pocket.

  I perform a comprehensive examination of it on paper. I squint in the direction of the object I saw. From the angle I stand, I can’t conclusively say it’s the remover. I have to get closer. Still in the spot I stopped when I entered, I steel myself and walk across the room..

  My eyes don’t wander as I tread deeper into the space. I’m not scared, but I don’t relish the idea of being in a room full of dead bodies. As I walk, a small metal object trips me on the floor. I grab the nearest gurney to balance myself.

  My fingers wrap around something moist and sticky. That’s repulsive. I might not be frightened of them, but I definitely don’t want to touch a dead body. I withdraw my hand like I’ve been electrocuted. My fingers ooze of the nauseating fluid with the consistency of melting gelatin. A shiver of revulsion rakes over me. This is probably an experimental room, where they test all their weird scientific theories on the women they dispose of.

  I shut the thought down and take a step away from the gurney.

  Chapter 27

  My inner voice doesn’t let up, though. If they dispose of you, you could end up on one of these tables, a science experiment. I shove the thought to the back of my mind. “Where did I see that remover?” I say aloud. I spot it one row over to the right, and at the last gurney. My feet speed across the distance to where I saw it.

  Once I reach the gurney, I know with certainty it’s the remover. I snatch it from the table and twirl around to leave. Something warm and damp catches my arm.

  A human hand.

  I don’t scream. I don’t move. I do nothing but stand frozen in place. What if these doctors are experimenting on these people, and the thing that has my hand is a sort of Frankenstein?

  Think rationally. The hand of my imagined monster is no larger than my own. This must be a young boy, or a woman about my same size. I pull my eyes down to stare at the grotesque monster I visualize in my head.

  Except, there is no Jeepers Creepers hideous monster holding me. The 'thing' that has its hand wrapped around my wrist bears a striking resemblance to me. I gasp and step back. With exaggerated slowness, she sits up, still holding onto me. Her hand is wet with the same thick, clear substance as the body I stumbled into earlier. I try to comprehend how this can be possible. I refuse to look into her eyes. I’m nervous to meet the person who gave me life, and will die because of the ability to do so—assuming that this is her and not another clone sister.

  “I’m Liz.” Our eyes meet—her eyes are my eyes, but at the same time, they aren’t. She tightens her grip on my wrist, as if she’s a computer and is downloading all my vital information with this touch. The eyes that stare back at me are full of rage.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she asks. I expected my voice to come from her mouth. She sounds completely different from me. Her words are enunciated with harshness, and her voice has a strength that mine lacks. As soon as she spoke, her features changed. Not entirely changed, as in we no longer resemble each other, but a subtle change that’s practically imperceptible.

  I can’t understand how she’s full of rage, and I’m scarcely able to feel anything—other than the feelings I have for Brian.

  Her grasp on my wrist has not relented. I snatch away from her with a quick jerk. “I asked you a question,” she snaps. She lays back on the gurney, as if she’s exhausted.

  I ignore her for the moment. I turn to walk off, but change my mind. Oddly, I don’t mind the company of the one person alive rather than a room full of rotting corpses.

  That’s when it hits me. Why is she in this room full of dead bodies, anyway? I turn to look at her again. She’s lying on her back and doesn’t move at all. Had I imagined the whole encounter? Maybe this is a side effect of the predisposal. Maybe I hallucinated the encounter.

  I pull the walkie out to call the guys. “Ian, I need you and Brian to come get me. I’m in a room full of bodies on gurneys. I found the dura remover—”

  “Is that what you’re here for?” I spin around so fast I drop the walkie-talkie to the floor and it shatters into tiny pieces. Just great.

  “You want to remove it—you want to live!” she shouts at me. I race to her side to calm her down before someone comes into the room.

  Her bottom lip is puckered into a frown when I reach her, and her eyes are colder than before.

  “I’m sure this is a shock to you, but please calm down.” I pause, not certain what to say to her. She doesn’t acknowledge my words, or even look at me. With her head turned to the left, she stares intently in that direction. I follow her gaze to an empty gurney. She has a smile working at the corners of her mouth when I look back to her.

  “Did I hear you say Ian and Brian need to come and get you?” Her voice is different. Most likely because she’s not yelling.

  “Yes,” I answer with resolve. Maybe this information will calm her down. Maybe she’ll forget to be upset at me for wanting to live. Maybe she’ll be as nice as Crystal.

  She pushes against the table to sit up but slides back down, like she’s too weak to lift herself. I extend my hand so she can use me for support to lift her body. She waves my hand away and murmurs under her breath. “I don't need your help. Get away from me, you clone freak.” She pushes herself again, both hands on either side of the gurney. This time, she gets traction—right to the floor below. I don’t rush to help, as she’s already stated she doesn’t want my assistance.

  Instant karma is amusing. I chuckle softly as she scrambles to pick herself up. Her head twists toward me and she rolls her eyes. She’s more callous than I’ll ever be. “Sorry,” I mumble. No, I’m not sorry though. “Are you okay?” Not that I care, I’m being polite.

  “Don't bother being nice, freak. I'm not.”

  “You’re calling me a freak. Who do you think you are? I overlooked it before, but—”

  “But what?” she interrupts. “What’re you going to do about it? What can you do about it?” She’s sitting on the floor where she fell. She heaves herself up, and the dark green blanket she was wrapped in falls away.

  I turn from her, but not before I spy the smirk on her face. Footsteps and muttered voices draw my attention to the door. I turn, more nervous about who that could be than the beautiful monster in front of me. She must hear it, too, because she rewraps the blanket around her. I wait, hoping they’ll walk by. They don’t. The doorknob slowly. The door inches open, but no one emerges.

  Finally, Ian peeks through, obviously to determine if he has the right room. When he notices the two of us, he pauses and stares open-mouthed.

  “Is she in there?” Brian snaps. Ian doesn’t say anything. “What's the matter with you? Why aren't you answering me?” He pushes past Ian and walks into the room.

  He hasn’t noticed us yet standing off to the side. When he gets past Ian and closes the door, I stop looking at him, because standing only a few feet away from me, the beautiful monster sighs loudly. I can’t stop gawking at her.

  Brian turns his head in our direction. I sneak a peek to gauge his reaction to her. Shock and confusion cross his face.

  “Tiff,” Ian says at nearly a whisper.

  “Hi, Ian,” Tiffan
y says. “I missed you. I asked if they could wait to dispose of me, because I wanted to say good-bye.” This voice is new, definitely not the same as before.

  Ian crosses the room with long strides and pulls her into his arms. Brian and I stand still and watch. There’s no happy reunion hug for us. I’m awed by her beauty, and obviously Brian is, too, because he doesn’t move—just stares at them.

  The strangest feeling overtakes me. A surge of energy from nowhere crashes into me. I’m falling. Powerless to alter my descent, my body hits the floor and my breath is snatched away as Brian rushes to my side, but it’s too late. Pain fires through me and forces my eyes closed. I grit my teeth as the throbbing consumes everything. I stifle a scream that’s ready to burst through my lips.

  Brian folds me into his arms. “Sunshine, open your eyes.” I try to open them, but I can’t. Peace, like a cocoon, smothers any response behind my closed eyes. It wraps me up and obliterates the aches overwhelming my body.

  Chapter 28

  Voices converge on me at once; I shake my head to clear my disorientation. Someone has a hand on the back of my neck and another on my chest. But not any hand, I crave his touch—Brian. He gently beckons me to open my eyes. I don’t move or blink, frozen in my current state, with the fear of realization. I’m dying and we may not make it to his parents.

  Brian whispers into my ear, “Sunshine. It’s okay.”

  “Okay,” I whisper back. I’m stretched out on my back in what feels like a bed with a hard mattress. I don’t want to open my eyes yet. Instead, I use my other senses to determine where we are. You could ask your boyfriend sitting next to you, my snarky inner voice offers. I ignore her.

  I recognize the scent of the earth—trees, dirt, pollen—we’re outside. Brian’s lips touch my closed eyelids. My heart beats a cadence. “Open your eyes.” It’s his normal voice. I haven’t heard this voice in a few days, and a wave of butterflies flurries in my stomach. I lay silently, hoping this moment is real and not a cruel dream of us together. Then I recall that we had not been alone.

  “Where’s Ian?”

  “Should I know?” he says. “I’m not concerned with Ian right now.” He kisses my lips. “Open your eyes. I need to see them. I need to know you’re okay.” His voice has taken on a more alluring tone while he whispers in my ear.

  Reluctantly, I open my eyes. Perched on his elbows, he stares down at me. He pulls himself back as I sit up. We’re in the tent my Dad bought me two summers ago. I glance down to determine what I’m lying on. It’s too comfortable to be my sleeping bag.

  I tilt my head up at Brian, sitting on the edge of the sleeping bag watching me. “This sleeping bag feels great,” I say. “This can’t be mine.”

  “I gave you mine, too. I wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. Especially with the temperature drops at night.” He smiles his sunshine smile. A light emanates through his smile. Could I really be in love with someone after having barely any emotions for years?

  “We’re camped out at the hiking path in the Panamint Springs. Only a couple miles to my Mom and Dad. We couldn’t move any more, though. We had to give you time to rest, and for us to rest, too.” He traces his finger over my neck and jawline, making it hard for me to concentrate on what he’s saying.

  “You carried me?”

  “No, you walked. Well, you tried to. We didn’t make it that far before you passed out again.”

  I lie back and close my eyes to gather my thoughts. “I don’t recall any of that.” I shake my head. “Where’s Ian?” I ask again. I open my eyes when I don’t get an immediate answer.

  He looks thoughtful. “He’s with Tiff.”

  “She’s here… with us,” I exclaim, sitting up too fast and almost bumping into him.

  “Yes.”

  “Is she going to have the chip removed also, then? Did you convince her to not be disposed?”

  “Hold up, Sunshine.”

  “What?” He runs his fingers over my stomach and traces it up to my throat. I glance down as he makes the descent back down with another finger. I have on different clothes—jeans and a sweater. “Did you change me?”

  “You have no idea how much I wanted to.” He smirks and kisses my belly. The sensation creeps across my entire body. “I asked Tiffany to do it—it was getting cool.”

  “Really.” I arch my brows. “She probably dropped me on my head a few dozen times while changing me.

  Brian bellows out a hard laugh, as if I’d told the best joke. I, of course, don’t smile. I hadn’t meant the comment to be funny, but true. “Seriously, she hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t know you. You have to look at this objectively. It took her DNA—a part of her to create you. Now you want to live, and she still feels like she has to die. She doesn’t think it’s fair. But I know her—once she gets to know you, she’ll love you.” He leans over to run his soft lips across my jaw line.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Brian, stop it.” I push him away. “Don’t make excuses for her. She knows there are other options now, that she doesn’t have to die. It’s her choice to do this. I shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to live. I never asked her to give me anything.” Crystal and her decision to die now cross my mind. Crystal could have been upset at me for changing my mind, but she wasn’t. Tiffany can do whatever she wants. I’m not stopping her or judging her, but she definitely has an issue with me for my decision.

  “Okay, okay, sorry. I only wanted you to look at this from her perspective.”

  “I have, but after meeting her… she’s mean. A real… bitch.”

  We don’t say anything for a while. I break the silence, “I’m still tired. I need to sleep for a while.” I turn and pull the sleeping bag over my head. I feel his eyes on me still, and I can’t sleep with him staring at me.

  I peek from beneath the blanket. His eyes capture me at once. My heart can’t keep up with its frenzied beat. I rub a finger over his chin and glide it across his full bottom lip. He smiles, but doesn’t speak or move. “I need to sleep, please.”

  “I want the two of you to get along—even if it’s for a few days. I understand her desire to fulfill what she views as her obligation. I don’t like it, but I can’t make her change her mind. She’s stubborn. But there’s no way I’m ever letting you go, now that we can save you. For right now, I won’t press the two of you together, but she has time still. Maybe the two of you could become friends.” He picks himself up from the bag. I don’t turn over to go to sleep—instead, I watch him until he exits the tent.

  Once he’s gone, I zip the bag up to my neck. We should be moving—getting back to Dr. Thompson—but I’m burned out. I don’t want to think about anything right now and the pain creeping up my leg makes it difficult to do any thinking anyway. The pain starts to ebb and slowly, I drift away.

  When I open my eyes again, I can’t tell what time it is. Darkness envelopes everything outside the tent. I stretch my arms above my head to work my aching muscles. My stomach growls menacingly. I crawl from beneath the sleeping bag and snatch up my pack lying on the ground. I accidently knock Brian’s bag over, so I set it back up. Where is he anyway? Hunger takes precedence over finding him. I dig through my bag to find food. A granola bar and a bottle of water aren’t the best meal, but it satisfies my palate.

  I need to go find the others. Maybe we could pick up and leave tonight. The sidewinders or the gila monsters are not pleasant thoughts at the moment, though.

  I unzip the sleeping bag and peek around before barging out into the night. Brian and Tiffany sit about twenty yards away on the ground, talking. Their proximity is too close, so I retreat back into the tent. Should I break up their happy reunion?

  Chapter 29

  Why am I hiding out in my tent? I feel like the ultimate snooper. Brian’s my boyfriend and I shouldn’t feel like this. Right?

  I unzip the tent and inspect my surroundings again. Brian and Tiffany are in the same spot. Except now, Tiffany is directly in front
of him and their heads inch closer, as if they’re about to kiss. My pulse quickens and my heart palpitates. Able to see them through the small opening I allow in the tent, I watch as her lips meet his. And I watch as her hand goes to the back of his head.

  I turn my eyes away, zip the tent up, and collapse on the sleeping bag. You should be angry with Brian. Go out there right now and scratch her eyes out. Go out there and kick him in the balls. I jump up from the bag, intent on storming out into the night, but I don’t. I contemplate what to do instead. Go out there and confront them? I shake my head. No. You’re not a coward. But I know I have to allow my heart time to reconcile this betrayal.

  The traitor. He lied to me. What are you going to do about it? “Stop,” I say, probably too loud. It does the job and quiets my inner voice. I won’t react irrationally, like a child. If he prefers her over me, I’ll accept it with my dignity in hand. As much as I’d love to smack her and him senseless, I have to keep a level of decorum. Plus, his parents are the ones basically saving my life.

  But you are for damned sure not going to sit in this tent and cower. That’s a statement I can get behind. I yawn loudly and toss Brian’s bag around a little to announce I’m awake. I take an exhausted breath and check my emotions. Compared to others I’ve witnessed in person and on TV, I’m unbelievably calm for someone who’s just witnessed the ultimate betrayal of trust.

  I unzip the tent and peer out. Brian’s sitting in the same spot as before, but Tiffany isn’t with him. He’s made a fire and is staring into it intently. I saunter over to him, afraid to speak, because my heart might win over my logic and I’ll call him every profane word I know. I feel his eyes watching me as I approach. My heart should be going crazy at his sultry gaze. It’s not.

  “Hey.” My voice is a harsh mess.

  He pats the ground next to him. “Come sit with me.” I cross the remaining distance and sit across from him, so the fire separates us. I don’t want to sit close to him, because he looks so tempting. Even more than usual, as the fire whips through his dark hair and shimmers off his eyes. I quiver with desire to touch him. I place my hands beneath me so they won’t betray me.