Ghosts

by David A. Robertson

  He waited, with bated breath.

  “I mean, if you said it just because you thought you were dying, that’s cool.”

  She just nodded.

  “So…you said it because you were dying, or because…”

  “Oh, my God, Cole. I meant it.”

  “I meant it, too.”

  “I know.”

  When the sun set, they crept out of Blackwood Forest. They waited for the right moment to go, but there wasn’t one moment that was better than the last. There were always guards at every section of the fence. Cole figured they’d have to fight off at least six.

  “I think we just have to do it,” Cole said finally.

  “Yeah,” Eva agreed.

  “Do you think you could, you know, fly over them?”

  “I don’t even know how I did it in the first place.”

  “Could you try?”

  “You don’t want me to fight the guards,” Eva said, her voice dripping with accusation.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt,” Cole said. “Plus, if you flew over them, you could get inside and look around, while I—”

  “Do all the hard work? Get shot? Get killed again? I don’t think I could…” But she stopped herself.

  “You don’t think you could what?” Cole looked away from the guards to focus solely on Eva.

  “Nothing,” Eva said. “I’m coming with you. That’s it.”

  Cole stared at her. Tried to decipher her, like she could decipher him. But he just shook his head. “Stay behind me. You can fly, but you can’t heal. I can.”

  “You sound like that old commercial. That War Amps commercial.”

  Cole went from shaking his head to trying not to laugh. “Astar?” He mimicked the voice. “I can put my arm back on; you can’t.”

  “Yeah, that. That’s exactly what you sounded like.”

  “I’m not sure about my arm,” Cole said, “but you get my point, and you’re not winning this argument.”

  “Fine,” she said, “I’ll stay behind you.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Good luck.”

  In that moment, with Cole’s muscles tensing for another sprint towards guards and bullets and fists, with the feeling, Cole swore, of wind rushing in at them from all directions again, like Eva was about to fly, he heard the sound of a click behind him. And that solitary click was followed by the sound of many more, like rain crashing against the ground.

  “He’ll need more than luck, girl,” a voice said.

  Cole relaxed his muscles, even as his nerves went into overdrive. Pounding heart. Shaking limbs. Cold sweat. Light-headedness. He knew what he’d see when he turned around, but did anyway. They were face to face with ten rifles.

  “We’ve been expecting you,” a man said.

  Cole recognized him as Cameron Xavier, the man who had represented Mihko at the school assembly held to honour Cole.

  “Michael?” was all that Cole could force out of his mouth.

  “He’s a good kid,” Xavier said. “A good soldier.” “Why not just take us at the cabin then? Why wait for us to get here?” Cole asked.

  “That’s a fair question, Cole,” Xavier said. “Originally, Michael was told to slit your throat while you slept.” He laughed. “And Captain would’ve done it, too.”

  “But…”

  “The cure we’re developing isn’t working,” Xavier said. “Those people you took are just going to die anyway.”

  Cole didn’t tell him that they weren’t dying. Had Michael kept some things from Mihko? Why? “We had to try,” he said.

  “Commendable,” Xavier said. “At any rate, things changed.”

  “Then why’d you kill him before?” Eva asked.

  “We got what we needed from him then,” Xavier said. “His body was disposable.”

  “But you need me again,” Cole said, “because your cure isn’t working—”

  “And we might just get that cure out of you,” Xavier said. “So it’s lucky for us that you rose from the dead, as it were.”

  “I’m going to fucking kill you,” Cole said.

  He got ready for a fight, pressed his palms against the earth to find some momentum to charge at them, but as soon as he shifted, the muzzles came closer to him, and to Eva. Eva would’ve been dead before he could do anything. He raised his hands in surrender.

  “Good choice,” Xavier said.

  “Take me,” Cole said. “Let Eva go.”

  Xavier tsked. “Sorry, we won’t be able to do that. We need her, too.”

  “Why? You have me. You can get the cure from my blood.”

  “Yes,” Xavier said, “but how will we know if it works?”

  Xavier’s smile grew wider. It looked as though the corners of his mouth might touch his ears. He nodded to one of the guards. The guard flipped his rifle around and butt-ended Cole in the head.

  27

  THREE LITTLE PIGS

  COLE GROANED INTO CONSCIOUSNESS AND FELT PAIN surge through his body. He opened his eyes to a light glaring overhead, so he shut them again.

  “Sorry about that,” Dr. Ament said. “Thought we could keep you asleep.”

  He heard her walk up to him. He was in a rather uncomfortable bed. A hospital bed, he determined. Just like the one he’d been in, when he’d been stabbed by Scott. Scott, who was missing, too.

  Dr. Ament shifted the light away, and Cole opened his eyes to find a second person standing over him. Cameron Xavier. He’d probably always been there. Cole had only heard one set of footsteps.

  “It’s incredible, really,” Dr. Ament said. “I’ve given you enough sedative to put an elephant down, and it’s still not enough.”

  Cole looked from Xavier, to Dr. Ament, who was ready to push more sedative into his IV line.

  “Wait a second,” Xavier said. “I’d like to talk to the boy.”

  “What…what are you doing to me?” Cole tried to move, but he was strapped down. He craned his neck to look at his body. The IV line was sticking through the black straps. The straps covered his body, from his feet up to his chest. He tried to move again, to break out of them, but it was no use.

  “Easy, now,” Xavier said. “There’s no breaking out, son.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Cole took inventory of the room. Cameron Xavier and Dr. Ament were standing by his bed. Michael Captain, in full guard uniform, a sight that made Cole feel sick, was stationed at the door. He had a standard-issue rifle and handgun. One of the flock. Michael looked straight ahead, deliberately, but his face couldn’t lie about the conflict he must have been feeling. Why Michael couldn’t look at him. Not after what he had done. Eva and Brady were in beds, too. They looked as sick as the patients had been in the clinic. When Cole saw them, he tried to break through the straps once more. He felt some fibres burst. But that was all. “What did you do to them?!”

  “Dr. Ament, do you want to explain what’s happening to Cole?” Xavier asked.

  “You’re probably feeling pretty awful,” Dr. Ament said. “We’ve dosed you with a high concentration of God Flare 2.0.”

  “That’s a super clever name,” Cole said.

  “It’s a new strain. If we’d given a normal human what we’ve administered to you…”

  “It’s the whole elephant thing again,” Xavier chimed in.

  “Yes,” Dr. Ament said. “So you’re quite sick, but your body is working to heal from the virus, you see. It’s creating antibodies. We’ve been taking your blood and trying to create a cure for this new strain.” She looked at Brady and Eva. “Your friends here are going to show us if the cure works. They’re heroes, really.”

  “Screw you,” Cole said, and turned to Eva and Brady. “Guys, guys wake up! Wake up! Please!”

  “They can’t hear you,” Xavier said.

  “They’re sedated,” Dr. Ament explained. “We’re watching how the virus progresses. If my theory is correct, the sickness will
slow, then abate.”

  “Then what’s going to happen?” Cole looked around the room again, and it was so familiar to him. The sterile environment. The white walls. The fluorescent lighting. The sliding metal doors, shutting them off from the rest of the building. The doors. Cole jerked up, then collapsed. This was where he’d found his dad.

  “I know,” Xavier whispered. “I know what you’re thinking. You died here. Is that it? Your dad was over there,” Xavier pointed right to where Cole had been shot while sitting beside his dad’s decayed body, “and you were so distraught. You didn’t even notice the boy approach with the gun. Not until it was too late.”

  “Boy?”

  “I’m getting wordy, aren’t I?” Xavier leaned in closer, so close Cole could feel his breath against his ear. “To answer your question: you are all going to die.” He stood up and spoke at a normal volume. “But not from the virus, hopefully.”

  “Reynold.”

  “That’s right,” Xavier said. “Very good. He’s right here, in this basement. Have you ever seen that movie, Return of the Jedi? That part where Luke Skywalker is dropped into the cavernous pit? That creature was being held behind huge metal bars, and then it was released?”

  “It was a rancour.”

  “Right,” Xavier said. “Well, you get the picture.”

  “Luke killed it.”

  “Oh, but you see, Luke wasn’t strapped down.”

  “He was in a cage.”

  “The point being—”

  “Reynold McCabe, Upayokwitigo, is just standing around in the basement, waiting, reading a magazine.” Cole shook his head. “You’re full of shit.”

  “We have an…” Xavier thought for a second. “…agreement.”

  “An agreement.”

  “Yes,” Xavier said, “we keep him fed, and he stays docile. Relatively speaking.”

  Fed. The word shouted on repeat in Cole’s mind, until it hit him.

  “You’re catching on,” Xavier said. “See, this place is like a manufacturing business. In a business like it, there are processes. An assembly line, if you will. The people get sick, they don’t get well, which admittedly is our fault, we do an autopsy over here, and then, well…all that waste has to go somewhere.”

  “You bastards!” Cole’s body jerked violently from side to side. He tried to push his arms free. His legs. Tried everything. It was no use. Cole locked eyes with Xavier, but didn’t say anything. Couldn’t think of what he could say.

  “Can I tell you why Chief McCabe is so excited?” Xavier asked. “If I don’t tell you, you’ll never know, because he’ll just want to kill you. You are the curious type, aren’t you Cole?”

  “You’re going to tell me anyway,” Cole said. “Just get it over with.”

  “That’s true,” Xavier shrugged. “Cole, the truth is, you’re the only one left.”

  “Only one left of what? What are you talking about?”

  “Of the Harpers,” Xavier said, as though it had been obvious. “I mean, in the end, when it’s all said and done, it’s your father’s fault, isn’t it?”

  “I know he killed my dad,” Cole said.

  “Your father was trying to help Reynold’s girlfriend, Vikki I believe her name was, escape. To take her away from him.”

  “Escape? Not…”

  “Reynold, naturally, wanted revenge. It’s a human response.”

  Escape. Cole tried to remember the emails between his dad and Vikki. They’d never talked about an affair; Cole had just read into their exchanges. In the end, was his dad trying to save Vikki from Reynold? From Mihko? From both? He thought of his dad’s headstone, of the chiselled-off word: Father.

  “But that wasn’t enough,” Xavier said. “You can’t really blame him, though, can you? I mean, look at what he’s become. He’s always wanted more. He’s insatiable.”

  “He’s a monster.”

  “So, he decided that he was going to kill two birds with one stone,” Xavier said. He paced around the room. Each time he passed Michael, Cole noticed Michael’s jaws clench harder. He was getting angry.

  “Just say it,” Cole tried to sound defiant, but instead, his voice was broken. He didn’t need to hear it. He knew what Xavier had meant.

  “Of course, he didn’t expect that you’d go off and make your little girlfriend a ring,” Xavier said. “He thought you were both in the school when he burned it down.”

  Hearing it made it real, though. And Cole screamed. He arched his back, and pushed upward with every ounce of strength he had. His muscles burned. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest. He felt the straps begin to tear. Xavier nodded at Dr. Ament, who pushed half the clear liquid from her syringe into Cole’s IV line. Cole felt the liquid course through his veins. He started to feel drowsy and weak. But she hadn’t given him enough to knock him out.

  Michael looked like he was about ready to bend his rifle in half. His father had died in that fire, too. Michael, Cole was certain, had never heard this before. He prayed that Michael would act on the rage he felt. But he didn’t. It looked as though he was physically being held back.

  “So,” Xavier clapped once dramatically, “that leaves us where we are now. And, like I said, Reynold’s dying to finish his work. He’s waited a decade. Can you blame him?”

  “Michael…Michael…you can still…make up for what…you did. It’s never too late…you can…”

  “Michael Captain?” Xavier walked over to Michael. Put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “You’re right that he probably wants to shoot my head off, and Dr. Ament’s, and certainly Reynold’s, but he won’t. Do you want to tell him why, Mr. Captain?”

  Michael shook his head, short and sharp.

  “He’s only got his mother left, poor kid,” Xavier said. “If something were to happen to her, well, you can only imagine. He’d have nobody left.”

  “You’d have…us…Michael.”

  “I think mother trumps estranged friend,” Xavier said. “I mean, after all, the only person he actually did shoot in the head…was you.”

  “Michael?” Cole looked at his old friend for any sign that what Xavier had said was a lie.

  Michael was shaking. Cole could see it all through his body. His lips were quivering. He looked like he could drop his rifle at any moment. Rage to regret.

  He’d done it.

  “Michael, no,” Cole said, like he wasn’t already certain that it was the truth. That Michael had followed him down into the basement, into this very room, and killed him.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Ah, no talking, Mr. Captain. You know the rules.” Xavier looked at the watch on his wrist. “Look at the time. Dr. Ament, would you mind putting Cole down again? I think we’ve said all there is to say.”

  Dr. Ament injected the rest of the syringe into Cole’s IV line, and Cole started to feel his consciousness slip away.

  “I’m going…to…kill…”

  “Better pump some more while you’re at it,” Xavier said to Dr. Ament.

  “Way ahead of you.” Dr. Ament was already pulling out another syringe.

  “Don’t worry,” Xavier said as Dr. Ament emptied the syringe into the IV. “You can try. To kill Reynold, to kill me, whoever. When we are sure your blood works to cure God Flare 2.0, we’ll wake you up. Reynold will want you to watch him kill Eva and Brady.”

  “Let them go…let them go…” Cole was desperately trying to stay awake.

  “And then he’ll want to look you in the eyes before he kills you.”

  Those were the last words Cole heard, before he lost consciousness.

  28

  WOUNDED SKY

  “DONALD, KNOCK IT OFF,” COLE’S MOM SAID, but though the words were stern, the delivery was not. She was trying not to laugh and had barely managed to admonish Cole’s dad at all. They were in the living room of their house, and it was morning. A beautiful part of the day where they were all together and could spend time in each other’s company. Before Cole’s dad went
to work and after breakfast.

  That was the sweet spot.

  Cole’s mom was on the couch watching Cole and his dad wrestle on the living room floor. They’d been going at it for several minutes now, playing the game they always played at this time of day: Unbreakable Hold. Cole’s dad would put Cole into a hold that was “unbreakable,” and Cole would try to get out of the hold, proving it to be, in fact, breakable.

  He’d never broken a hold, however.

  “One more!” Donald pleaded, sweat dripping down his face. He didn’t even check the clock. He didn’t worry if he might be late for work.

  “Would you let him win one time, Donald?” his mom whispered, as though Cole couldn’t hear her.

  “What’ll he learn, then? Hey?” Donald asked.

  “I want to do it on my own!” Cole shouted, and then he made himself a rag doll on the ground, waiting for his dad to put him into a new hold. The catch of the game was that it had to be a different hold each time.

  “Alright,” she said, “one more.”

  “Ready kiddo?” Cole’s dad asked him.

  Cole nodded, and his dad went to work. He wrapped his arms around Cole’s arms and chest, securing his upper body, and curled his legs around Cole’s. The simplest hold his dad had ever attempted, and the one that made Cole feel the most claustrophobic.

  “Okay, go,” his dad said.

  Cole struggled, tried to break out. He snaked his body left and right, arched his back and tried to push his dad’s arms away, but nothing worked.

  “Give up?”

  Cole shook his head, but he started to feel panicked. Started to feel his heart race, his body get hot and shaky. He couldn’t breathe. The hold was too tight. He needed to get out.

  “Donald, he’s scared,” his mom said. “Let him go.”

  “No!” Cole shouted.

  He pushed his arms out, strained to spread his legs to the side. He screamed from the effort, and then his dad’s arms and legs were off, and Cole was free. He rolled across the living room floor, triumphant. Stood up with his arms raised. But both his parents had looks of shock on their faces, and Cole’s dad was rubbing his arms as though they were in pain.