A Heart of Flesh

by Casey Hays

  After breakfast, I shower and head to Liza’s. She answers my knock in seconds, bare-footed and still in her pajamas, which consists of an over-sized pair of shorts and a tee-shirt.

  “Hey.” She steps back to let me in. “Jesse’s in the shower. We just got up. You want some tea or something.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I fall onto the sofa and dig my knife out of my pocket. She skirts around the island that separates the kitchen from the living room and reaches into a cupboard for a cup.

  “I’m glad you came,” she says.

  I nod.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  “Maybe.”

  She squints at me, disappointment lining her features until I grin with a shake of my head that make her sighs with noticeable relief. There’s no point in staying mad at her.

  She drops a pile of tea leaves into two mugs and pours steaming water from a black kettle. The herbal aroma fills my nostrils. She spoons in some sugar cane as the final touch and brings them over.

  “Did you see Uncle David?”

  She gets right to it. I take the mug she offers.

  “Yep.”

  “And?” she asks, shuffling into the recliner across from me and curling her legs beneath her.

  “He confirmed what we already feared. That’s about it.”

  “So…” She furrows her brows. “Is he going to help?”

  “Nope.”

  Silence. She swallows once and clasps a hand around her ankles. “So now what?”

  “I go back.” I clutch my untouched tea in one hand, squeeze my pocketknife in the other. “Tell Penelope the bad news.”

  She nods absently. I blow air through my compressed lips and set the mug on the rough wooden table next to the sofa.

  “I told you he’d want to see the kids,” I say. I wait for her reaction before I add, “That’s his one condition.”

  “And you told him no,” she surmises. I plant my eyes on her. “Right.” She squeezes her cup. I don’t like her tone.

  “What, Liza?”

  She bites her lip, readjusts her legs, and edges forward a bit, placing her own mug on the coffee table.

  “I know you don’t agree with me,” she begins. “But hypothetically speaking, let’s just say he could help—if he ran his tests.” My face tightens with defiance, and she notices. She holds up a hand in defense. “Just hear me out.”

  She uncurls her legs and moves to the edge of her seat, bent on pursuing the conversation I thought we’d left behind at the farm. I flip my knife open, thumbing the edge of the blade and searing her with my disapproving glare. This doesn’t do much to deter her.

  “I’ve been thinking since we got here, and I didn’t want to say anything until you saw your dad, but…” Her eyes dance back and forth. “I think you should consider letting him see one of the girls.”

  I stare at her. She keeps talking.

  “Look, if Uncle David could find a way to taper the negative behavior—control the nanos somehow—why wouldn’t we want to give him that chance? And the girls? They’re far less aggressive. It could be safe.”

  “Giving him access to any of the kids gives him access to the advanced Serum.” I pierce her with my words. “Don’t you get it, Liza? Extracting even an ounce of it would be too much. No. It’s too dangerous to give my dad that power. He’s not finished playing the mad scientist.”

  “Did he mention the cure?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “But it does.” She takes a deep breath. “Look, I think we should talk about this. You can’t shut me out. I’m a part of it, and I want a say in the decision.”

  “I get it, okay?” I nod, trying my best at sympathy. “You’ve seen a lot of death while I’ve been on the other side. But Liza, this Serum is not the solution. It will only bring us more heartache, and—”

  “I’m pregnant, all right?”

  I stop, wide-eyed, and everything falls into place. So this is the motive for her sudden interest in a cure. My gaze falls to her stomach, and my heart twinges. Because this isn’t just any baby. This baby—if it lives—will be my cousin. Family. Liza’s eyes seek me out, beseeching, hoping she’ll find an ally in me, and everything in me wishes I could be one. With a painful heart, I reach for her hand across the coffee table.

  “What is it that you want, Liza? For Dad to turn your baby into another Nicholas?”

  “No,” she whispers. “But—”

  Her breath heaves. It’s a gruesome thought and an ugly thing to say, but it’s the truth. Liza’s been there. She’s seen the violence up close. She can’t think it’s a good idea to let Dad near the kids. To give him a chance to mine their veins. With a sigh, she closes her eyes, and a desperate tear scurries over her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Five indestructibles is enough for an entire lifetime.”

  My cousin is a strong woman, but every bit of her crumbles in that moment, and the twinge in my heart pricks again. She drops her face into her hands, and an awkward silence fills the room. We don’t congratulate people for this kind of news. Not in this world. I don’t even comfort her with the possibility that her baby might be immune. That’s too much to hope for. Instead, we hold our breath and wait for the virus to make up its mind about whether it will spare this one. And we bury our children when the time comes.

  “Liza—”

  It’s all I have time to say before Jesse tromps into the room, breaking the tension and my next thought. Liza quickly brushes her tears away and smiles up at him. Honestly, I’m grateful for the intrusion. His timing couldn’t have been better.

  “I heard somebody was back in town.”

  I flash a last wary look toward Liza, come to my feet with a grin, and clobber my friend in a brotherly hug. “Yeah. I missed your ugly mug, so I thought I better get on home before I forgot what you looked like.”

  He laughs, adjusts his cap over his blond curls, and spreads his arms in presentation manner. “I’m more buff and more handsome. Every day. Isn’t that right, Liza?”

  He tosses her a wink. She smirks with a shake of her head, clearly not in the mood after our hard conversation. She glances at me, and I detect one very certain thing: she hasn’t told him about the baby.

  “He’s also more arrogant, if you didn’t catch that.” The saucy Liza I know is back in the room with us. She bounces to her feet and heads for the bedroom. “I’ll leave you boys to catch up.”

  Jesse plops into the chair she vacated and hones in on me.

  “How’s the farm?” He picks up Liza’s tea, takes a long gulp, and sets it down again.

  “It’s rural.”

  He laughs. I sit.

  “And Diana?”

  “She’s good.”

  “Just good?” His crooked smile lights up his green eyes. Great. Liza must have mentioned something. I brace myself for his taunting. “Man, you haven’t snagged her up yet?”

  I smile. “I’m working on it.”

  “Justin.” He plants his elbows on his knees, a disapproving lilt to his voice. “You’re too careful. Just take the dive.”

  “There’s no rush,” I assure him. “It’s not like I have much competition out there.”

  “Oh, you never know.” He lifts his hands, lets them fall to hang between his knees. “Those kids are growing up fast. One of those little boys might steal her heart away in another twenty years.”

  “Very funny,” I scowl.

  He laughs and falls back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his recently shaved skin. He grow serious.

  “Is it as bad as Liza says?”

  I nod, opening my pocketknife, closing it.

  “And Doc?”

  I shake my head. He nods.

  “Do you need a hand?” At the question, I peer at him, surprised. He shrugs. “I could ask Rob to assign me. Special classified mission. You know he’d be on board.”

  I think a minute. I hate to ask it of him. And although the Rovers’ lead officer, Rob
Foster, would be more than likely inclined to do just what Jesse suggests, this isn’t a Rover-like mission. At the same time, just his offering alone floods me with a huge wave of relief. Jesse is powerfully strong, and we could use him. So I humble myself and decide not to refuse.

  “I’d appreciate that, Jesse. More than you know.”

  “All right. It’s settled then.” He stands and slaps his hands together. “I’ll talk to Rob in the morning. It’ll take me about a week to get things in order. Will that work for you?”

  “Yeah.” I fold up my knife and slip it into my pocket, a sigh on my lips. “Thanks.”

  “You’re heading back tonight?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well then, let’s not waste any more time moping around. They installed seven new pool tables at the recreation center. You up for the challenge?”

  I grin, standing. “Any day of the week.”

  “All right.” He swings open the door. “But I gotta warn you, I’m king over there.”

  “For now,” I counter. He tosses back a laugh and follows me out.

  I welcome this distraction. For one day, I’ll pretend this is my life. I have no problem spending it with a good friend and a pool stick.

  Chapter 14

  The sun is just beginning to set behind the mountains when I say my goodbyes to Jeb at the edge of the river. The water, clear and clean, rushes in a flood under the bridge. It skims over the top of a jutting bed of rocks and flows southward.

  “Take care of yourself.” Jeb offers his hand in a warm farewell. “And don’t stay away so long next time, son.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I keep a hold on his hand an extra second, savoring the comfort his big presence always brings. I’ve missed it. “Thanks for your help, Jeb.”

  “I’m sorry things didn’t go over so well with your dad.” He hooks his fingers through his bowstring. “It’s a shame.”

  “Yeah,” I nod. “It is.”

  The worst part? I tried to see Dad again this afternoon. One last ditch effort. He refused.

  “Do you have a back-up plan?” Jeb asks.

  “Penelope was looking into things. Hopefully, she performed a miracle while I was gone.”

  He nods, but I’m not so confident in my own words. I look off over the water before I catch a glimpse of Liza out of the corner of my eye. She avoids looking at me, bends to tie her boot, and stomps off toward the forest’s edge. I sigh; Jeb steals a look her way.

  “Whatever she’s mad about, it’ll pass,” he affirms, habitually running his fingers the length of his beard. “I’m sure the next time you see her, she won’t even remember you two were on the outs.”

  He winks when he says it. Because he knows as well as I how easy it is for a woman to hold a grudge. And a woman who loves you can hold one for a very long time. Still, I hope he’s right. I’m not interested in fighting with Liza, but I can’t worry about her right now either. I hoist my pack into place and pick up the second bag of supplies.

  “See you around, Jeb.”

  ***

  My journey home is long and lonely. After a day full of Jesse and some much needed leisure time, the silent contrast on the open field is noticeably depressing. I’m left with nothing but my thoughts, and they are the worst company.

  I feel helpless and defeated in my own skin. And angry. Everywhere. Like an unscratched itch.

  Every time my conversation with Dad spins back into my thoughts, I want to scream until I split open the sky. Because the dad I saw in that clinic is not the dad of my childhood. My dad was a decent man. My dad would have found it in his heart to do everything he could to save a dying child—without ultimatums. I know, because I watched his heart break each time he lost a baby. The man I saw in that office yesterday? He wasn’t the father I remember. There was no decency left in him. Only ambition.

  The night deepens, and I crank up my speed, working to burn out the frustrations plaguing me. It’s no use. Penelope expected me to return with an answer. I’ve failed, and I’m going to have to face her—to face all of them—and account for that failure.

  It’s a miserable thought.

  It’s midnight when I reach the sleeping farm. I slip into the house and drop the pack of supplies into a chair. In the dark kitchen, I lean against the counter and chug a half gallon of water, grateful for the silence and the shadow. I don’t care to see anyone just yet. I haven’t quite decided how to reveal that all hope is lost. I shove that thought away. I hope I’m wrong. I hope Penelope has good news to counter my bad.

  Upstairs, I peek in on Diana first, and then her boys. The shadowy light of the moon cascades over their quiet, little faces. I watch them sleep for a few minutes, these boys who are like sons to me. They give me pride, bring me joy, fill me with hope. Everything I do—everything I’ve ever given up—is worth it if it means keeping them safe in this world. I tuck the blankets more snugly around them and slip back out into the hallway.

  In the kitchen, I retrieve a flashlight and make my way to the main farmhouse, anxious to check on Nick. I don’t know what I’ll find, and a part of me fears that by now a two-headed monster waits for me in that basement. Funny how a sleep-deprived brain fuels the imagination.

  The basement is pitch black, and the thought of Nicholas being down here all alone makes me cringe for a second. Until I remember why he’s here. I flick on my light and head down, and when the beam falls over him, there is no monster. Only a little boy with creamy smooth skin and blond curls. He sleeps, his baby face relaxed in dreams. I move close, curling my fingers around a titanium bar, and my heart caves in. I love this kid so much, and I hate that this is happening to him. I hate that we have to be afraid and that he doesn’t understand anything but what the Serum whispers in his blood.

  And I hate to think what we may have to do to stop him.

  He stirs; I pull back, dropping the light away from the cage. The shadows gather up and hover all around.

  “Nick,” I whisper.

  Silence answers, but his name on my lips stabs me with a deep ache, and the sting of my tears is sharp. Without thinking, I pull the key from my pocket, unlock the cage, and step in. His chest rises and falls, a tiny motion. I fall to my knees beside the cot and gather him up. He murmurs and cuddles into my chest, and my heart heaves a trembling beat as his woodsy scent floods my nostrils. The tears come in a flood of emotion. I am helpless.

  With crushing despair, I angle my eyes upward, my arms tightening around his small frame.

  “God…” I whisper his name, and it’s a drought on my tongue. But I lift my voice anyway. “Help him. Please...”

  I have no right to ask, and there is no reason for him to answer. Still, the whispered plea falls from my mouth. I study Nick’s face, smooth and innocent in sleep, and a choking sob swells my throat. Pulling him closer, I bury my face in his chest.

  It’s then that I hear it—a soft muffled moan. I lift my head. A rustling. Another small moan. It’s isn’t Nicholas, and I’m on my feet, Nick pinned to my chest. I step out of the cage, my flashlight beam sprayed over the floor. I sweep it across the area, angle back toward the cages, and I see him.

  Curled up in the middle of the cot inside the other cage, Stephen sleeps. His dark head barely peeks out from beneath the thin blanket. The light spreads over him—a spotlight on a stage—and my heart drops to my toes as understanding invades.

  It begins.

  ***

  I don’t sleep all night. Hunched over our front steps, I clench my fists against my twisted gut. The surge of the Serum rumbles low in my blood, wrestling with my nerves, and I shiver in my skin trying to keep myself contained.

  I’ve felt this way only one other time—when the enemy came for my life. But the enemy was real. Concrete. A mass entity I was forced to contend with. This time, the enemy is almost unrecognizable. How can a tiny boy be my enemy?

  I watch the sun climb the sky. It burns hot with the promises of a new day; I feel nothing but a hot rash of bitterness.
I want to take that ball of fire and fling it across the sea where it will burn out forever. That’s how I feel today. Birds chirp, the breeze stirs the cool morning air, and a sick feeling makes my head hurt. I curl into a ball on my side right here on the top step.

  This is how Diana finds me.

  “Justin?”

  She shoves open the screen door, a shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders. It falls shut with a sharp smack; I wait a few seconds, not answering. In my line of sight, I watch her bare feet pad across the porch toward me. She kneels, a hand on my back. Only then do I sit up. She sinks onto the steps beside me.

  “When did you get home?”

  I shrug, staring into the brightening sky. “A few hours ago.”

  She nods. “And… are you… all right?”

  I shrug again. She pulls the shawl more tightly around her, clamping her knees together with a small shiver.

  “Did everything go all right in Eden?”

  Her voice carries a slight edge of apprehension, as if she fears the worst. And I’m going to be the one to confirm those fears. Just not yet. I face her, evading.

  “I saw Stephen in the basement.”

  A sadness floods her expression. She nods. “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “He disappeared from lessons yesterday.” With an enormous sigh, she shakes her head. “We found him down there, his hands shoved through the bars and wrapped around Nicholas’s neck.”

  “So. He retaliated, just as we feared.” I bite down and taste blood when my tooth pricks my lip.

  “It took a few days, but yes.” She fixes her eyes on me. “Penelope says the Serum is teaching them manipulation. It’s some sort of survival tactic.”

  I clasp my hands together between my knees as the sick feeling eats a hole through my stomach.

  “How did you cage him?”