“You look like you’re having a bad day," the man sitting behind the desk said, resting his head on a fist propped under his chin. “Please, sit.” He smiled and pointed to a tan leather chair across from him.
There was something about the man’s gentle face and demeanor that put Anna slightly at ease. “It’s not been a great day- I don’t know what’s going on and I just want to get home.”
The man smiled. “I can understand that. So, let me cut right to the chase here and we can get you home. Sound good?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Nick Baird, and I’m head of operations around here. Everyone around here calls me Boss, but you can just call me Nick. How are you feeling?”
“I feel irritated.”
Nick laughed to himself. “Yes, I could surmise as much simply by observing the shape your face has taken. And by how tightly your arms are folded across your chest.”
Anna unfolded her arms.
“Oh, by no means… if it brings you comfort, fold your arms like that. It’s actually a very good sign that you still have all these very subtle inherent defense mechanisms.”
“What do you mean, still?”
“Are you experiencing fatigue? Do your muscles feel tight? Are your joints feeling stiff?” Nick ignored her question.
“No, I feel fine. I just feel irritated,” she repeated.
Nick picked a pile of papers off his desk and began to casually read through them. Satisfied with the information he gleaned, he looked up at Anna with focused and cold shark eyes. “Begin Emergency Boot File," he said.
“What?” She was started by the sudden shift in Nick’s voice.
“Anna, you aren’t here for migraines.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to tell you the real reason that you are here. If I tell you, I will need two things in exchange from you. The first thing of which I will require from you is your absolute attention. I need you to listen as if there is going to be a quiz at the end. The second thing I need is not to be interrupted. What I am about to say most likely will generate a plethora of questions that will bubble up inside of you. It’s natural. Hold your questions, and when I finish, you may ask me anything that you wish. Do you agree to these terms as I have presented them to you?”
“Y-yes.” A wave of cool panic began to cover Anna’s entire body.
“The facility that you are currently in is called A-IX. We are the Artificial Intelligence Experiment. Our company, is its early years, was simply designed to push the boundaries of the human mind. We wanted to expand human life as we know it. We wanted to improve mind function and retention. The human mind is capable of extraordinary things, if only we could release it from the squishy and fragile vessel in which it is stored. Our focus was to improve the human condition. However, mankind has begun destroying itself at an alarming rate, and A-IX was contacted by the federal government to begin human transfers as an emergency measure. Simply put, we went from improving humans… to saving the entire human race. Based upon classified intelligence, all of the major powers on Earth have developed chemical weapons that are powerful enough to wipe out entire continents. In an effort to save our people, we have begun transferring consciousness to ideal citizens. You, Anna, fit the description of an ideal candidate for a transfer of consciousness. What we have done is downloaded every memory, every thought, every bit that makes you Anna, and we have uploaded it to a human shell; an Android if you prefer that term. The old you is currently at home with your husband and will live out the remainder of her days. The new you will be vaulted away in a secure location until the inevitable fall of humanity. I am storing this information in a special emergency file in your brain, and it will only be activated in the event that you discover that you are not your original copy. The next time you wake, you will have no knowledge of this conversation, and you- along with various versions like you- will find one another, and work together to rebuild this world.” Nick stood and opened his desk drawer and pulled out a long, clear needle. “End Emergency Boot File," he said as he stuck the needle into the side of Anna’s neck.
Anna opened her eyes and admired the décor of June’s house with a renewed appreciation. There was no longer a reason to be afraid of the wrinkled and withering bag of bones that had intended on eating her. She ripped the tape off of her mouth and grabbed the butcher knife that was used to cut off her arm as she began to check each bedroom.
“Just get out, horrible monster!” June screamed from behind a closed door at the end of the hallway.
Anna opened the door and was assaulted by a foul and salty odor. An old man lay in a bed with sheets pulled up to his chin, and June crouched in the fetal position by his head.
“G-g-get out of here, monster,” June repeated.
An unbridled anger began to well inside of Anna. It was a feeling she had never felt before. “How many people have you killed, June?” Her words came out twisted and vile, and didn’t even sound like her voice.
“I was starving! I wasn’t thinking clearly. I never left the house before the virus.” Black mascara tears began to collect in the creases of her cheeks. “I was one of those fat people… the ones they make fucking documentaries about for other people’s entertainment.” She spit. “I couldn’t leave the house… I could barely walk. I just sat at home and waited for my parents to bring me food. I was pathetic. And then the virus started killing everyone off… and you know what I was worried about? I was worried that there would be no one left to bring me food. God… it was pathetic. Dad brought me what he could… but the rationing made it so that I began to lose weight. And for the first time I was able to move around… but the driving urge to eat just never went away. It was there… morning, noon, and night.” She wiped the tears from her face and looked at Anna. “Then this guy came to my house begging for food one day… and I…. it was… it was like instinct took over. I bashed him over the head with my cast iron skillet. And I kept… bashing… until his head didn’t really resemble a head anymore. And I cooked him. And he was delicious. It reminded me of all the fancy meals my dad would make for me. It was like… at that brief moment… the world was normal.”
“That’s sick.”
“I know.”
“How many did you kill?”
“Maybe… 12?” She hung her head in shame.
“Twelve people that could have helped rebuild this town… and they’re just gone now. Because you were hungry.”
Before June could respond, the old man in the bed coughed and opened his eyes.
“Daddy?” June rolled onto her knees.
The old man looked at Anna with wild eyes, cleared his throat and whispered “Kill me.”
“Please… don’t!” June lifted the man up off of the bed and hugged him. Anna gasped as the sheet fell and revealed that the man had two bandaged stumps where his arms used to be.
“June… did you…”
“I didn’t want him to die! But there’s no one left in this stupid town! I was careful…”
The man winced in pain as he searched Anna’s face for compassion.
“June, let go," Anna said in a slow and measured tone. When June didn’t let go, Anna thrust forward and in a single motion she pulled June away from her father and cut the man’s throat. He gurgled and fell back onto his pillow, and the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly as his breath came to a steady stop.
“Noooo!” June scurried to grab the knife from Anna’s hand but was knocked back by a bullet that came from the hallway.
Anna cupped her hands over her ringing ears and turned around to find Clovis and Oz standing at the end of the hallway, the barrel of Clovis’ shotgun still smoking. “How did you find---“
“We need to go. There’s something wrong with Cole.”
Chapter 17
Anna quickly followed Clovis out of the front door and down the driveway to the car he must have pulled up into the yard.
“When he made it back to my place to tell me ab
out what happened to you, he was in pretty rough shape.” Clovis turned to look at Anna. “He said that---“ Clovis looked down to where Anna’s arm used to be. “Hello- where’s your arm?”
Anna showed Clovis her bloodless stump. “It’s wasn’t how I was hoping… but I found the answers that I was looking for.”
“Ah.” Clovis didn’t seem necessarily surprised, but disappointed for his friend.
“The moment it happened… I… remembered everything. A-IX learned the mistakes it made with you. They were transferring consciousness without consent in hopes to sidestep the psychological distress. And they just planted us throughout the country as an ‘in case of emergency’ measure.”
“Does that mean there might be more people like you?”
“Maybe.”
“Well… where’s your arm? I can try and stick it back on if you’d like.”
Anna pointed behind her. “It’s inside in the living room.”
Clovis nodded and headed back into the house as Oz followed behind him. Anna walked up to the white car to find Cole laying in the back seat. A pit formed in her stomach when she noticed his blood-covered dingy white t-shirt and hands. She opened the side door and peered in. “Hey, Cole…” she said gently and tapped his shin.
He opened his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned upward. “You’re ok.” His voice was thin and frail.
“Thanks to you," she said as she lifted Cole’s legs, sat down and placed them back onto her lap. “You look terrible.”
“I think I’m dying.”
Anna shook her head. “Oh, I’m sure you’re not dying. Did you take your medicine? Maybe you need to just take more.”
“I did.”
“Well… maybe you just need a different kind.”
“I tried that.”
“We will just have to find something else. Maybe if we could break into a hospital they would have---“
“Anna.” Cole closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“What?” she snapped, growing frustrated with his acceptance of his own death.
“Don’t be like that. We should make our last moments together fun.” He tried to smile but started to cough blood into his stained hands.
Anna became disgusted by such a concept. “I don’t want to have a last moment with you. You… you can’t just leave me.” Her voice quivered.
“My mom said that the dead will always be with you in your---”
“I don’t have a heart anymore.”
“What?”
“You can’t go… you’re my only friend.” Anna turned and rested her head on his chest and listened to his rattled and unsteady breathing. She knew that he was right- she couldn’t see any way that he could survive a probable fatal disease in a world that didn’t have doctors or hospitals anymore.
The driver’s side door opened, and without saying a word, Clovis started the car and drove back to his house with Anna asleep on Cole’s chest. Silent tears ran down his face as he stroked her uneven hair.
Once they had arrived back at Clovis’ house, Anna slept for the remainder of the afternoon and woke early evening. She descended the stairs to find Clovis sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch with Oz curled around his feet and Cole sitting on the bench swing looking out over the church grounds.
“Ah, you’re finally awake," Clovis announced as Anna opened the screen door and walked out onto the porch.
“Yup.”
“I filled Cole in on your recent developments," Clovis said. “And if ya want to sit over here by little ol’ me, I can try and reattach that flipper for ya.”
“Sure," Anna said as she sat down in the rocking chair next to Clovis and tried to avoid looking at Cole.
“We were just talking about burying me over in the cemetery over there.” Cole pointed out towards the setting sun.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Anna stared into the weathered wood floorboards.
Clovis sighed deeply. “I’m afraid that you can’t run away from this problem, darlin.”
“It was going to happen eventually.” There was an unusual calmness in Cole’s voice. “It’s better that it’s now when I’m still young and better looking that you.”
Anna looked over at him and he smiled.
“It’s hard to watch the people you love shrivel up and die, trust me," Clovis added. “I used to pity the ones that died… they were forced to leave this world that contained all the things in which they loved for a place that was unknown. But now… after everything I have seen… I sometimes wish that I could leave, too.”
“Why can’t we?” Anna’s eyes briefly lit up. “Maybe we could all go together. There has to be a way to power down… you know, like, a self-destruct button or something.”
“I made a point of never lookin’. That is information that I do not need… because I probably wouldn’t be here if I knew how to leave.”
“Why do you even want to be here in this hell?” Anna snapped. “Look around, there’s nothing good here anymore. It’s a diseased rock, and we shouldn’t even exist. If humanity was a virus that was depleting the Earth’s resources like some type of tick… and Harlow was how the Earth healed itself… we should have just let it heal.”
“You don’t really mean that, Anna…” Cole said. “You’re just upset.”
“No… she’s got a valid point," Clovis added. “That was actually part of the debate towards the end. Some people supported A-IX and what they were doing and called it the next evolution of human existence. But others felt it was meddling with that very spark that made humans… well, human. The Greener Pastures movement believed that what A-IX was doing was perverted and promoted getting off this diseased rock to inhabit distant planets.”
Anna scoffed. “How is that even possible? We could barely make it to Mars.”
“It was rumored that ever since the development of nuclear weapons, the powers that be began working on a Plan B. And that plan involved space travel. The problem arose when tickets out of here were only offered to important people. You know, like musicians and celebrities, and professors and doctors. They wanted to hand-pick who lived and died.”
“A type of genocide," Cole added.
“Bingo.”
“Genocide?” Anna scoffed. “Against who? Dumb and uninteresting people?”
“Basically," Clovis responded. He finished wrapping Anna’s arm in almost an entire roll of silver duct tape. “There… good as new.”
Anna raised her arm and watched as her dead hand flopped around and Cole laughed at the strange sight.
“Ok, ok… maybe not good as new… but it’s better than nothing.”
Anna laughed. “No, it’s great. Thank you, Clovis. I actually have another favor to ask you.”
“Yeah?”
“Can you even out my hair?”
Cole laughed. “You don’t like the cut you got from the Troopers?”
“I would have never cut it if I knew that it would never grow back!” she joked.
“Sure, I could probably even it out for you.” Clovis stood up to head back inside for scissors.
“I don’t want to look even remotely like the old me. I want it to be cut short… the way I always wanted to cut it but was too afraid of what people would think of me.”
Clovis nodded and headed back inside.
“You won’t have to worry about that now.” Cole smiled.
“Worry about what?”
“What people think of you.”
Anna stared at him and processed the weight of what he had just said.
Cole watched as Anna’s face shifted from bemused to sad. “I just meant---“
“I know, I know.” She swallowed hard. “I just don’t want you to die.”
Cole searched for something perfect to say to ease her mind, but could only come up with, “I know.”
Clovis returned from inside and playfully snipped the scissors in front of Anna’s face. “So, what kinda cut you thinking?”
Ann
a ran her fingers through her shoulder length hair. “I want it to be short in the back and the sides, but keep a long section in the front that will hang down in front of my face like a comic book villain.”
“Uhm… that sounds awesome.” Cole’s eyes grew wide.
“Don’t get your hopes up, fella… I’ve never cut hair before in my life. I mean… look at me.”
Cole cringed. “He’s right, Anna… do you really want him cutting your hair?”
Anna turned and observed Clovis’ long and disheveled beard and knotted mess of salt and pepper hair. “You may have a point.”
“Alright… no need to hurt my feelins, guys.” He handed the scissors to Cole. “By all means, cut a female’s hair that doesn’t have the ability to grow it back.”
Cole reluctantly took the scissors from Clovis as Anna walked over to the swing. She grabbed a wooden crated that was propped against the house and used it to sit in front of Cole. Cole tapped the handle of the scissors against Anna’s head. “You sure about this?” he asked.
Anna nodded. She knew that every time she would look into a mirror and see the reflection of Anna the school teacher/wife it would bring her pain. The Anna that used to grade papers and eat bowls of pasta with her soft-spoken husband were gone. That Anna had buried her sweet and caring husband in the yard where they used to host summer barbecues and died alone in their basement. If she was going to adjust to her new self in the ruins of the rubber city, she would have to let go of that Anna.
Anna looked out over the setting sun over the church fields. To the left of the faded brick chapel were slanted grey limestone grave markers punctuating the green rolling hillside and disappearing into the woods. Anna tried to imagine what it would feel like to dig one last grave and set Cole’s body into the ground. There was a saying by David Eagleman about how humans die three deaths- the physical death, the consignment to a grave, and the death in which the last person utters your name. For the exception of Anna and Clovis, there was no one else left to ever mention Cole’s name. As Cole ran his cold and trembling fingers through Anna’s hair and delicately and meticulously snipped away, she determined that she would never forget him, and speak of him often. And in that way, he would essentially never die.
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