The Commandment

by Kittrell, Anna;

  “Reid said letting someone else handle Briar wasn’t good enough. She said if Caster didn’t let her use the abstergent on Briar, she would leak everything about his dead wife. She’d tell everyone that Kate wasn’t really dead at all—instead, she was being held prisoner at the ARC. Everyone would know he was behind it. She said she’d even tell Gatlin.”

  The air evaporated from Lukas’s lungs. Could Gatlin’s mother really be alive?

  “Caster said she’d never go through with it. Reid said to try her and see. Then she told him to call Maxwell Brown and tell him she was on the way. I stepped behind a door and watched through a gap between the hinges. She left with an equipment bag over her shoulder.”

  “What kind of equipment did she take?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I’ll probably never see her again,” he blubbered, cradling his face in his hands. “You’re the one she loves, not me.”

  “Lucky me,” Lukas snarled. He’d known Derby for seemingly a lifetime, but he couldn’t feel sorry for the man. Not this time. Not after how he’d betrayed Briar. He started to ask what happened to his hot air balloon, but decided he didn’t care. “Come on. We’re going to the lab.” Lukas wasn’t planning on staying, but he needed Derby to keep an eye on things.

  “I can’t. If Caster finds out I told you, he’ll kill me.”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  ~*~

  “Hey, girl,” Lukas said quietly, stooping to give Roxy a pat before moving down the hallway. The door to the room containing the pharmaceutical closet was cracked a hair, causing his legs to pick up speed. He burst into the room, his stomach swallowing his heart as he gazed at the open medication vault. Both vials of abstergent were gone, as well as both vials of antidote. A pair of sedative vials had been taken as well.

  A glance through the implement closet confirmed his worse fear. The retractable cranial drill was missing. His hands shook as he passed them over the other instruments, taking a quick inventory. Not only one drill, but two were missing—the new model as well as the old.

  Fighting his no-holds-barred imagination, he scanned the supply cupboard, noting several missing syringes. “No,” he growled, the slam of the cabinet door rattling the remaining items. He sped from the room, nearly mowing down Derby who was kneeling and petting Roxy, outside the doorway.

  Derby jumped to his feet. “Sorry—”

  Lukas stopped suddenly, jerking a finger to his lips. “Shh! Listen.” He narrowed his eyes as he gazed down the hallway. “Someone’s here. Hold Roxy still and stay put. Don’t move unless I call you.” He needed Roxy to keep Derby out of his way, not the other way around.

  Ears tuned, he continued down the hall, gaining speed with each step. He rounded the corner in a jog, dodging a small item on the floor. He shuffled to a stop, hoping he was seeing things. Pulse hammering in his brain, he stooped to pick up the obstacle. Gatlin’s toy firetruck. Something was horribly wrong. “Caster!” he yelled, saliva hitting the back of his teeth. “What have you done?”

  He powered on, kicking open every door. Sweat stung his eyes. Let it burn—he didn’t care. “Caster!” the name was bitter on his tongue. He raised his knee, snapped his leg, and drove his heel into the exam room door, blasting it wide open.

  His heart melted. He couldn’t breathe. The scene was something from a nightmare.

  Little Gatlin, lifeless on the exam table wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, his wrists and ankles restrained. Caster, looming over him, gripping a cranial drill.

  This couldn’t be reality.

  “Is he—” Lukas couldn’t bear to finish the sentence.

  Caster yanked the surgical mask to his chin. “Sedated.” He studied the side of Gatlin’s head and made an adjustment on the drill.

  “You can’t do this. The drill could pierce too deeply.”

  Caster frowned at the tool. “Reid didn’t give me a choice. She took the retractable.”

  Lukas tried not to think of Reid marching into the ARC with the retractable drill tucked under her arm.

  “The abstergent hasn’t been tested on a human.”

  Caster turned a hot gaze on Lukas. “And whose fault is that, brother?”

  “Gatlin’s a child. You could easily dissolve his entire brain.”

  “Good thing you have that precious antidote. Remember? The antidote you used for an excuse, so you wouldn’t have to inject Briar with abstergent. You spent so much time on it, I’m sure it’s absolutely perfect.”

  “Please, Caster. You’ll kill him.”

  Caster’s eyes caught fire. “Don’t pretend you care for my son. You’re the reason he’s sedated on this table—you and that…that…freak you’re so enamored with. She read to him from the Bible!” His knuckles whitened as he squeezed the drill in his fist.

  “It doesn’t matter. Gatlin’s Agathi are protected by SAP.” He’d been over this before with Caster. SAP in the system equaled no religious absorption. It wasn’t rocket science—it was medical science. Something his brother knew a thing or two about. So why was it so hard for Caster to understand?

  “Gatlin had a flicker.” Caster spoke so quietly, Lukas barely heard him. “A single blink. For a fraction of a second, his Agathi lit. It was discovered during his most recent brain scan.” He ran a gloved thumb above Gatlin’s temple, caressing the small, shaved area. “What if during one of those blinks, some of Briar’s biblical debris lodged in his brain? It could fester. I have to get rid of it.” Caster pressed the drill to Gatlin’s head. “Now.” He placed his finger on the trigger.

  “No! Wait, Caster. It was probably just a glitch in the scanner. We can check it again, right now. Right here in the lab.”

  “SAP isn’t enough anymore!” The drill trembled in Caster’s hand. “I don’t want his Agathi numbed. I want them dissolved. If God gets inside, Gatlin will be aware of sin. Of his inability to measure up. Of the fact he needs a savior.” Caster’s hands shook harder now, the tip of the drill bobbed against the little boy’s temple.

  Glued to the trigger, Lukas’s eyes widened. “I understand the reason you’re doing this. But you must calm down. You can’t drill the port with your hands trembling.” He kept his voice soft, despite his screaming insides. “Let me do it.” Saying the words sickened his stomach.

  Caster attempted to steady the drill. “No.” Tears flowed down both cheeks, disappearing into the mask still cupping his chin. “It has to be me.”

  “Please.” Lukas said gently. “Let me do it. Your hands aren’t steady. You can watch my every move.”

  He looked at Lukas, perspiration filling the deep furrows on his forehead. “I have to be sure it never works again—not even a flicker. It has to die.” He knocked a fist against his own temple. “Die. Die. Die.” He knocked again and again, harder each time.

  Lukas stared at his brother, a thousand puzzle pieces shifting into place behind his eyes. It all made sense. Caster had functioning Agathi. Like Briar, he was immune to SAP.

  Something spiritual must’ve soaked in. The influence could have come years ago, before The Commandment, from anywhere—an unlevel tutor, housekeeper, babysitter—there was no way to be certain. But something triggered Caster’s Agathi. Something specifically Christian. He’d become aware of his sin, and the guilt was killing him. He’d do anything to keep Gatlin from that agony. Even hold a drill to his head.

  Had Father known? He must have. He’d kept it hidden to keep Caster from being under house arrest—to keep him from going to the ARC. That was the reason Caster couldn’t be in charge of leveling projects, even during his stint at the lab.

  Functioning Agathi would leave him vulnerable.

  And now, after all Caster had done—sending his wife to the ARC, telling his little boy his mother had died. Remaining silent through Gatlin’s pain while Kate was being subjected to the unthinkable. Betraying Lukas by having Briar kidnapped, coercing Derby with lies. The guilt wasn’t only weighing Caster down, it was dri
ving him mad.

  “I know the truth about Kate.” Lukas spoke softly, slowly, keeping his eyes on Caster’s trembling hands as he eased forward.

  Caster shook his head, as if to deny it. “Kate—” More tears washed down his face. “She’s gone.”

  “But not dead.” Lukas inched his foot forward as he spoke.

  “She may as well be.” Caster’s eyes flashed. “She was planning to betray me. Turn me over to the OLG because of my—condition.”

  To Lukas’s relief, Caster removed the drill from Gatlin’s temple. He pointed it casually toward Lukas, shifting it up and down, as if it was an extension of his finger. Lukas had to keep him talking.

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Social justice. Kate was always sympathizing over one group or another—the unlevels were her newest attraction. She insisted people were being treated unfairly because of a trait beyond their control. She even went so far as to compare the ARC to a concentration camp.”

  “Was Kate unlevel?”

  “No.” The drill sagged as Caster raised his arms in an exasperated shrug. “Isn’t that absurd? Kate was as level as they come. She never once had a problem with her SAP readings or brain scans. She had no issue with Gatlin’s leveling, either. Her issue was strictly a social concern. She didn’t believe in God, but she didn’t want those who did believe to be segregated.”

  “Kate was a good person.”

  Caster’s jaw ticked. He trained his gaze on Lukas. “Kate was a deserter. A traitor, loyal to scores of people she’d never met but not to her husband.”

  Lukas regretted the conversation’s turn. The look in Caster’s eyes made him nervous. He flinched as his brother repositioned the drill near Gatlin’s head.

  “I shared everything with her. She never judged me. Kate knew of my agony. Day by day she helped me through.” He squeezed his eyes shut, wrinkling his brow. “Until she read that post or watched that video—whatever it was that caused her heart to bleed for the unlevels. At that moment, she envisioned me a potential advocate for her new cause—nothing more. Who I was, my career, my position in life, could change the way people perceived the unlevel community. She wanted to turn me into some ‘dysfunctional and proud’ poster child for the unlevels of the world.” He gazed down at his son and shook his head slowly. “She loved those ARC-dwellers so much—well, now she’s one of them. Not me. No way. I’d end my life before being locked away in that prison.”

  Caster would risk Gatlin’s life as well, because of a glitch that may or may not exist in the child’s Agathi. “What about Gatlin?” Lukas asked. “Kate was a good mother. She loved him, and he loved her. Why do you think he was so drawn to Briar? He saw her as a mother-figure.”

  “Don’t you say that! That freak was no mother to my son. Gatlin doesn’t need a mother. He has me. And he has Lira—she’s taken care of him since the day he was born.”

  “A nanny isn’t the same as a mother.”

  “I’m through talking.” Caster pressed the drill against the little boy’s skull.

  Gatlin stirred.

  Lukas’s heart plummeted to his stomach. “The sedative is wearing off.”

  “He’s still numb.” Caster clasped a hand on the boy’s forehead and leaned in. “I have to do this.” The drill came alive with a sickening whirr.

  “You’ll kill him!” Lukas shuffled forward. “Your hands are shaking.”

  “Shut up!” Caster growled.

  Gatlin’s eyes popped open, then squeezed shut—but not before Lukas saw the fear.

  Lukas held out his hand. “Let me do it,” he yelled over the screech of the drill.

  Caster’s gaze flicked to Lukas’s.

  “My hands are steady.” The drill muffled his voice, turning his shouts to whispers. “It’s the only way.” He stepped to his brother’s side.

  Caster released the trigger.

  “Thank you.” Lukas took the drill, his head ringing with the sudden silence.

  Caster picked up the syringe from the table. “You drill. I’ll administer the abstergent.”

  Lukas swallowed dryly and nodded. He pulled the trigger, his eyes widening at the sharp rod spinning millimeters from his nephew’s skull.

  “Do it now,” Caster hissed close to Lukas’s ear. He clenched the syringe in one hand, tightened his grip on Gatlin’s forehead with the other.

  Lukas took a deep breath and steadied the drill. For the first time in his life, he whispered what may have been a prayer.

  With a movement more like a reflex, Lukas jerked the drill up and around, jabbing the whirring bit into the side of the metal exam table. He let go and the tool stayed put, dangling from its warped bit.

  Caster shouted through gritted teeth, the animal-like sound echoing through the silent room. Like a Hollywood rendition of a mad scientist, he held the abstergent-filled syringe above his head, while keeping his eyes trained on the soft area above Gatlin’s ear.

  Lukas’s heart stilled. Caster would jam the needle in the boy’s temple. He lunged for the vial, careful not to bang against Gatlin’s small body.

  Caster stumbled out of his reach and laughed. “You’re the one with the brains, remember? Not the brawn.” He shoved Lukas out of his way and repositioned his hand on Gatlin’s brow.

  The boy squirmed against the restraints. Gatlin couldn’t open his eyes in the middle of this. It would scar him for life.

  Lukas backed away, his blood running cold. He stood with his back to the door now, his feet longing to turn and run, to carry him far away from this nightmare.

  Lukas bowed his head.

  Like a cartoon bull, he ran full force across the room, dodging the exam table, ramming the top of his head into Caster’s sternum, not stopping until Caster was pinned against the wall. Air whooshed out of his brother’s lungs, accompanied by the pop of a dislocated rib.

  Caster held tight to the syringe as Lukas struggled to twist it from his grip.

  He grimaced. “You can’t stop me,” the words hitched from Caster’s throat.

  A soft groan snapped Lukas’s head around. He cut his gaze to the exam table.

  Gatlin shivered.

  Whatever Lukas was going to do—he had to do now.

  “Roxy!” Lukas shouted.

  Two barks rang out, followed by what sounded like a stampede of cattle.

  Caster’s gaze shot to the door.

  Lukas clamped a hand around his brother’s fist, and with a quick jerk, drove the syringe into the wall.

  Roxy leapt into the room, rattling shelves and crashing glass bins to the floor. The antidote shattered on the tile. Through a blizzard of cotton balls, swabs and gauze, the dog closed in, baring her teeth at Caster.

  “Keep him there, girl.” Lukas inched to the counter and filled a syringe with sedative.

  “Get away from me, you mangy beast.” Caster darted to the right as Roxy sank her teeth into his left buttock.

  Screaming in pain, he didn’t notice Lukas plunge the hypodermic needle into his thigh.

  Derby ran into the room.

  “Help me with him,” Lukas yelled, struggling to slide his brother to the floor so he wouldn’t crack his stupid head on the tile.

  Derby shuffled over.

  “Uncle?”

  Leaving Derby to wrestle Caster’s limp body, Lukas rushed to Gatlin’s side. “Everything’s OK,” he soothed, removing the restraints from the boy’s wrists and ankles. He eased him into a sitting position and covered his bare limbs with a paper blanket. “I’ll carry you to the chair in the corner, so that your daddy can rest on the table, OK? One, two, three.” He picked up Gatlin, settled him gently in the chair, and covered him with more paper blankets. He then stepped across the room and knelt beside his brother’s head. “Let’s move him to the table,” he said to Derby.

  Lukas at his brother’s head, Derby at his feet, the two men hefted Caster onto the exam table. Fighting a smirk, Lukas dabbed at Roxy’s bite with an alcohol pad and covered the superficial w
ound with an adhesive bandage. He removed his brother’s surgical mask, cuffphone, keys, and wallet, stuffing the items into his pockets before fastening Caster’s wrists and ankles in the restraints.

  “You forgot his gloves,” Gatlin said, pointing to his father.

  “You’re right.” Lukas pulled the rubber gloves from Caster’s hands and tossed them into the trash. “Your daddy isn’t hurt, he’s just taking a little nap.”

  Gatlin nodded. “I know.” He clicked his tongue and patted his lap, calling to Roxy. The dog dashed over to him, thumped her big front paws onto his thighs and licked his face. He giggled.

  “Derby, get them out of here.” Lukas tapped Gatlin on the nose and patted Roxy’s head. “And make sure you take good care of my nephew until I get back.” He stopped at the doorway. “On second thought, let Roxy take care of Gatlin.”

  23

  “That orderly over there, named Cleo. You’ve met her.” Harper rested against her walker and pointed a crooked finger to a caramel-skinned woman with braided hair. “She’s the only one in this godforsaken place that has a heart. I’m amazed she’s still around.”

  Briar nodded. “I get a good feeling from her.”

  Harper stepped slowly forward, scooting her walker. “The others are watching her. She has a God-zone. Somehow she slipped under the radar.”

  “She told you that?”

  “Her eyes told me.”

  Briar glanced at Cleo. The woman caught her gaze and offered a warm smile. Maybe Harper was right.

  “Listen up,” Harper said, pausing her steps in the dining hall doorway. “What we are about to do is not right. Not by any means.”

  “Oh-K?” Briar frowned and grinned at the same time.

  “It’s not honest. Think of it as being in the same vein as Rahab and the spies. A little dishonesty for the sake of the common good.”

  Briar’s mouth fell open as Harper popped out her dentures and slipped them into her waistband. Glancing around to make sure no one had seen, Briar stepped into the dining area behind Harper.