The Commandment

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The Commandment Page 4

by Kittrell, Anna;

Briar opened the fridge. “Mmm. Nothing like a big old helping of microwaved fish to make the brain—and taste buds—happy. Makes the neighbors happy too, if the ventilation system isn’t functioning up to par.”

  Still no smile. She was beginning to think Lukas Stone had, literally, turned to stone.

  “If you don’t prefer fish, there’s a variety of other proteins available.”

  She shut the refrigerator door. “Fish is fine, I was only joking.” Lighten up, guy. So you’re afraid of heights. I get it. Now move on, already.

  “The lab should be quiet over the next few weeks. Calls will be fielded by Stone Labs’ remote answering service. With the exception of Reid and Derby, I have relocated all other employees elsewhere until the project is complete. By ‘project,’ I’m referring to your preparation, reception, and tested response to the abstergent. The less people aware of what’s going on, the better.”

  Briar crossed the room to a half-opened door and switched on the light. More white glared from the sink, tub, tile, and toilet. Good thing she didn’t suffer from migraines.

  “As I mentioned before,” Lukas was saying, “Derby runs our surveillance equipment and reviews all of our internal and external camera data.”

  Briar snapped to attention and flicked her gaze to each corner of the room.

  “Don’t worry. There’s no surveillance in here. Cameras are only mounted in the technical areas of the lab. A few more are outside the building, directed at the doors and windows. Rest assured, no one is interested in watching you apply your lip gloss.”

  She was pretty sure that was a jab—though not a very good one, since she didn’t even wear lip-gloss.

  “We clean up after ourselves. Wash your own dishes, change your own linens, be sure your dirty clothing makes it into the hamper.”

  Briar walked to the closet and peered in, taking the opportunity to roll her eyes. She knew how to take care of herself.

  “Derby will be taking out the trash, doing the laundry, and sweeping up. During the day, you will be undergoing tests in the lab with Reid or myself. In the evenings, you may relax in your room. At 10:00 PM it’s lights out and doors locked.”

  “So…I noticed no gazing devices or flexpanes.”

  “No outside stimulation during the study. I can have some books brought to you, if you’d like.”

  “Comics, if you’ve got them.”

  His face was a blank.

  Briar sighed. “Never mind. I’ll be fine.”

  Lukas wouldn’t know a trade paperback from a graphic novel, anyway. Besides, she needed to work on some new scripts for the kiddos.

  “That about covers everything. Do you have any questions?”

  “Nope. Think I’ve got it.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have Derby bring some fresh scrubs to your room later this evening. Do you want to scratch out a quick list of essentials? There’s a pad and pen in the nightstand.”

  She leaned over the nightstand and opened the drawer. “What, no Bible?”

  The joke was inappropriate, given the reason she was there in the first place. Just the same, she found it pretty hilarious. By the expression on Lukas’s face, he’d never heard the legends about how back in the old days, a Bible could be found in every hotel room in America.

  “Kidding.” She removed the pad and pen, made a small list, and handed it to Lukas.

  “Shampoo, soap, toothpaste, toothbrush, antiperspirant—any brand,” he read. “That’s it?”

  “That should do it.” She sat on the bed and patted her bag. “I have a comb in here—right next to my lip gloss.”

  4

  Lip gloss sarcasm. Very funny. She probably thought he deserved it. On his way out, Lukas turned the knob on Briar’s door and then paused.

  What he didn’t deserve, was another juvenile to put up with. He was already putting up with Gatlin, his brother’s kid. He loved his six-year-old nephew like crazy, but the kid’s silliness and incessant teasing sometimes drove him out of his mind. Briar stirred up that same annoyance.

  At first, he’d had high hopes for her—the way she’d petted Roxy and memorized the name of the cactus really impressed him. But then she’d humiliated him by making fun of his fear of heights. Acrophobia was a legitimate disorder. How would she like it if he’d teased her for having functioning Agathi? Made fun of her God-zones? He’d be willing to bet that wouldn’t make her break into laughter.

  He clenched his teeth and drew a breath through his nose. He was behaving like a child, and he knew it. His oversensitivity regarding his phobia was beyond ridiculous. He was a grown man—a scientist, no less.

  Besides, Briar Lee hadn’t come here to be his friend, she’d come to be his test subject. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot, and it was all his fault. If he’d remained professional in the first place, instead of yakking away like a college roommate, his feelings wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

  No choice but to man-up and apologize. It was his responsibility. Afterward, they could start fresh, forego the chitchat and solely be professional. He opened his mouth to speak just as the door pushed open, knocking him backwards.

  “Roxy! Come back!” Gatlin hollered as the yellow Labrador retriever bounded into Briar’s apartment at full speed. Lukas’s nephew right behind her, grasped for her tail.

  Briar, all smiles, scrubbed the dog behind the ears as the animal jumped onto the bed beside her. Roxy panted through her own smile as she surveyed the room and snugged closer to Briar, giving the girl’s cheek a swipe with a wet beach towel of a tongue.

  Giggling, Gatlin hopped on the bed and wiggled in between Briar and Roxy.

  “Gatlin, take Roxy outside immediately. You are perfectly aware she is not allowed in this area.”

  “I know. That’s why I was chasing her.” The little boy jumped from the bed and tugged Roxy by the collar. The big dog didn’t budge.

  “I’m sorry about this, Briar. It won’t happen again.”

  “Roxy’s a therapy dog,” Gatlin explained, still yanking her collar. “Uncle Lukas says she’ll be safe around you, even though she doesn’t have SAP. You can’t brainwash her with Jesus talk because she can’t absorb it.”

  “Gatlin!” The skin on Lukas’s cheekbones and ears sizzled as he narrowed his gaze at his nephew.

  The little boy stiffened and widened his eyes. “What? That’s what you said earlier, before she got here. I told you I was afraid she’d turn Roxy into a Christian, and you said dogs don’t have God-zones in their brains. Remember?”

  Lukas pulled Gatlin’s hand from the dog’s collar. “Roxy, down!” He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor.

  Roxy drooped her ears and snatched a last kiss from Briar’s cheek before jumping from the bed.

  “Uncle Lukas, remember you said that?”

  Lukas growled inwardly. The kid wasn’t giving him a break.

  “It’s OK, really.” Briar smiled at Lukas. “I don’t mind explaining.” She turned to Gatlin. “Roxy and I are a lot alike. She doesn’t have SAP in her brain, and neither do I. I’m one of the few people in the United States who is immune to SAP. ‘Immune’ means it doesn’t work on me. That’s why I’m here, at your uncle’s lab. So he can give me something that works.”

  Gatlin nodded. “Abstergent.”

  Briar’s mouth dropped open, and she widened her blue eyes. “That’s right. I can tell you’re extra-smart.”

  The little boy offered her a closed mouthed grin, a twinkle of pride lighting his eyes.

  Lukas’s anger melted away as he watched her interact with his nephew. For a brat, she sure could handle kids and dogs.

  A loud knock on the doorframe drew his attention.

  Reid caught his eye through the opening and stepped slowly into the room. Folding her arms on her chest, she stared at Gatlin and Roxy.

  “Gatlin, please take Roxy to one of her designated areas. As a matter of fact, I bet she’d love to go outside and run off some energy.”

  Lukas inwardly cringed
at the mock-sweetness of Reid’s voice.

  “Come on, girl.” Reid cooed, reaching for Roxy. The big dog sidestepped her, adding a small bark when Reid made a second attempt to snatch her collar.

  Reid glared at the dog while addressing Briar. “You wouldn’t believe how much time and money was wasted on this mutt. Doggie vitamins and specialized trainers—please. And to think Geoffrey, the head dog-guru of the free world, said she held some kind of ‘heightened perception’ when it came to people. That she could gauge a person’s character with ‘uncanny precision’. Right. All I see is an oversized fur bag with an attitude problem.”

  Roxy snarled, a low growl rumbling in her throat.

  A grin crept to Briar’s face as she reached down and patted the dog’s head. Lukas wondered if her thought was the same as his—that Roxy was an excellent judge of character.

  ~*~

  Briar ground her teeth, blocking a scream of pain. Just her luck, the stupid fleshcard wouldn’t cooperate. Again, and again Reid loaded the little square into what looked like a sophisticated staple gun and jammed it against the thin, now tender, skin on the back of Briar’s left hand.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the next assault. “Ouch!” she yelped, the exclamation bursting right through the barricade of her sealed lips. That one nearly brought her out of her chair.

  Reid slammed the gun to the countertop and yanked off her gloves. Her ragged breathing and stiff movements alleged that the trouble was all Briar’s fault.

  “Complications?” Lukas stepped into the exam room and closed the door behind him.

  Reid stamped hard on the trashcan’s lever, banging the lid open. “The fleshcard’s not taking.” She flung the rolled gloves into the can and kicked the side, causing the lid to slam.

  “The reason it’s not taking?” Lukas slid on a pair of blue gloves and examined Briar’s throbbing hand, frowning at the redness.

  “There’s something wrong with the gun. It’s jammed.” She tossed an angry gaze to Briar. “The fleshcard is stuck inside.”

  Lukas removed his gloves and picked up the silver gun. “It’s wedged tight,” he said, peering inside the mechanism. “The card was loaded crooked. I can tell by the angle.”

  A bitter little smirk twisted Reid’s lips. “I know how to load a fleshcard. It slid into the chamber without resistance. Your theory’s wrong.”

  He squinted into the gun and turned it over in his palm. “Regardless, the thing’s fried. So is her fleshcard.” He shrugged and returned it to the counter. “I’ll order her a new one.” He turned to Briar. “The card is equipped with tracking technology. You’ll have to keep wearing your ankle monitor until the new one arrives.”

  “Why? I’m under constant surveillance.” She pointed high on the wall, to the camera in the corner.

  “Protocol.” Lukas moved to a small desk with wheels, snatched the flexpane from the surface, and administered a succession of quick, expert taps across the keyboard.

  Disappointment settled in Briar’s shoulders. The thought of being free of her cumbersome device had excited her. She lowered her gaze to her ankle monitor. Heavy, uncomfortable—a modern day shackle. Only it wasn’t really modern day; everyone said it was ancient. The fact that she’d been so close to being rid of the thing now doubled its weight. She hoped the fleshcard arrived soon.

  Or did she? Something tapped on her insides, as if to get her heart’s attention.

  What if God was protecting her by jamming the gun?

  She pictured the Agathi inside her brain, her tiny God-zones, at this very moment, glowing a brilliant red—brightening and changing hue every time she thought about God. Proof she belonged to Him.

  Would the fleshcard pick up on the reaction? Of course, it would. Her Agathi activated some sort of chemical, she assumed. All of her brain data would be recorded and assessed.

  “All taken care of. The new gun will be here in a week. The fleshcard should arrive shortly after. In the meantime, Reid and I will continue to take your vitals and run your labs the old-fashioned way.” He returned the pane to the desk.

  “Yay. I envision more ice-cold stethoscopes, vein piercing needles, and flimsy urine cups in my future.”

  “For the time being, I’m afraid so. The advanced fleshcard will keep track of your vital signs and bloodwork. As soon as it arrives, I’ll upload your medical history and other information from your chart and proceed with the implant. After that, with the exception of an occasional hypodermic needle, you shouldn’t be subjected to these primitive devices of medical torture.” He plucked a stethoscope from an implement holder above the counter. “Will you move to the exam table, please?”

  Briar rose from her chair and hopped to the edge of the exam table, crinkling the tissue-paper overlay.

  Lukas donned the stethoscope. “This might be a bit chilly.”

  Briar braced herself, yet jumped anyway when the cold metal touched her skin. “Sorry.” She giggled.

  Lukas chuckled. “I warned you.”

  Reid slammed a cabinet door and turned to face them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. I’ll leave the two of you alone to laugh yourselves silly.” She left the room, shutting the door too loudly behind her.

  5

  Briar slept deeply, dreaming of her grandmother. The sound of a rattling doorknob startled her awake. She strained blurry eyes. Someone was opening her door. Had she forgotten to lock up last night? She racked her sleep-fogged brain, but couldn’t remember. The hinge squeaked loudly. Seemed the hinges would be quieter in such a sophisticated laboratory.

  An eye peeked through the crack. Lukas’s nephew. Briar hid her smile beneath the blanket and pretended to sleep. She tried to keep her eyelids from trembling as she watched the boy tiptoe into the room then disappear to the floor.

  Listening to the thump of little hands and knees, she pressed her lips together to restrain a giggle. It was all she could do to keep from rolling closer to the edge to find out what on earth the kid was doing.

  Suddenly, Gatlin’s face was close to hers, his gold-green eyes wide with curiosity. His strawberry scented breath puffed in and out from the exertion of his mission. He reached out, slowly extending his pointer finger until it lightly touched her pillow, his eyes never leaving her face.

  Briar snatched Gatlin’s wrist and roared like a lion, giving his arm a gentle shake.

  The little boy jerked and shrieked, trying to twist his arm from her grip. She sat up and held tight, tickling under his arm as she raised it high in the air.

  Laughing and squealing, Gatlin twirled and flailed until something clunked to the floor. “Wait!”

  Briar loosened her grip.

  Gatlin fell to his knees and scuttled under the bed. He crawled out and stood in front of her. “I want to show you my rock.” He placed an object in her hand.

  “It’s plain brown, but if you wiggle it, it turns into gold.” His wide eyes urged her to try it.

  Briar rolled the jagged chunk over in her palm. Tiny gold flecks caught the light and glittered throughout the stone. “Wow,” she breathed, shifting her gaze to Gatlin. Her heart warmed at the sight of his proud grin. Was anything on earth as rewarding as a child’s smile? She held the rock between her thumb and finger for a closer look.

  “My mom liked those kinds of rocks.” His gaze fell from his prized possession to the cold tile floor.

  “She did?”

  Gatlin mentioning his mother in past tense caused Briar’s chest to tighten.

  “Well, I can certainly understand why. This is a beautiful rock.”

  “My mom’s dead, now. But Lira said she’s not really dead, that nothing ever really dies. She said Mom’s part of the amissfear. That she turned into air and I breathed her in, like this.” Gatlin closed his eyes and widened his nostrils, sucking a deep breath into his nose. He peeked at Briar through one squinted eye. “And back out like this.” His words were strained as he attempted to hold his breath and speak at the same time. Sque
ezing both eyes shut, he exaggerated an exhale through puckered lips.

  “Who is Lira?”

  “My nanny. Dad said she’s full of it. He said dead means dead. He said the earth’s amissfear is nothing but a mixture of gasses, and that people can’t be breathed into your lungs. He said that would probably cause cancer.”

  “And what do you think?”

  Gatlin’s sneaker slipped from the sheet as he tried to climb onto the bed. Briar clutched him gently beneath the arms and lifted him to the mattress. He wiggled in close to her. “I think maybe they’re both right. Maybe the part of her that’s in the amissfear isn’t skin and hair and teeth and stuff. Maybe it’s the part you can’t see. Is there a part of people you can’t see?”

  The soul.

  Deep inside Briar, something hummed—a vibrational energy resonating in her bones.

  Quickening, Granna Grace called it. “That’s the Holy Spirit nudging your insides, Briar. When you feel the quickening, God’s telling you to pay attention.”

  She gazed down at Gatlin, his eyes filled with questions and pain.

  She glanced at the door. They were alone. Just the two of them. No cameras to record their conversation. No fleshcard to document the activity of her Agathi. She licked her lips. “You know, Gatlin. This isn’t all there is—”

  The door swung open with an earsplitting creak. Miraculously, the flimsy doorstop jutting from the baseboard kept the knob from impaling the wall.

  In the doorway stood a tall, broad shouldered man with eyes the color and sharpness of knife blades.

  The child stiffened. “Dad,” he whispered.

  “Gatlin, come.” The man pinned the little boy in his gray glare as he took deliberate steps toward the bed.

  Gatlin jumped from the mattress and scrambled to his father’s side.

  “I am Caster Stone, Lukas’s brother.” He extended a hand. “You must be Miss Lee.”

  Briar mirrored the gesture, fighting the chill brought on by his cold, smooth fingers. “You can call me Briar, if you don’t mind. Nice to meet you.”

  “I see you’ve already met my son.” His grip tightened. She got the uneasy feeling he was practicing restraint. “I apologize for Gatlin’s disrespect of your privacy.” Like a hunting dog reluctantly obeying a command, he released her fingers, and took a step back. “It won’t happen again.”

 

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