by K M Lovold
Ian shook his head. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. Device they implanted in us?”
“There’s a lot to tell ya. You’ve been here for many months now, and I can finally speak freely to ya.” Jack leaned up against the thick window. “Most new Reamen, or women, don’t get all of the scoop like you’re gonna get. They learn things as they go along. They’re dealt with because of the things they say.” He lowered his chin and narrowed his eyes at Ian. “Some new prisoner will say or do something that is overheard, and they’ll get a beating or something, and eventually the prisoners learn to keep their mouths shut. That’s how they figure it out. And then the longer they’re here, after they’ve clicked with this prisoner or that, they start to inform them of the way things are here.”
“I guess I owe you, Jack. Thanks. So tell me. What about this implant?” Ian crossed his arms over his chest.
“First things first. What crime did ya commit back on Earth? I want to get to the bottom of this memory situation. That’s why I wanted to bring ya here. Ya need to know that if much of your memory is coming back in bits and pieces now, it’s gonna keep coming back more and more, and soon enough, you’ll remember everything.” Jack pointed his finger at him. “And if the guards discover that, they’ll kill ya faster than you can blink twice.”
“Why? What’s the big deal about my memories coming back? Don’t we all have some memories that come back?” Ian paced the small room.
Jack grabbed hold of Ian’s arm. “Stop walking like that. I can’t talk to ya if you’re not standin’ still.”
Ian let out a big breath but stopped pacing.
“What crime did ya commit back on Earth?” Jack repeated.
Ian raked his hands through his hair. “Like I told you already, I don’t remember.”
“But ya certainly remember other things, right?” Jack’s brow wrinkled, his jaw set. “You remember things like your bed back home, trains ’n things, the sun and things like that?”
Ian’s muscles relaxed as he thought of those things. And water. He remembered the lake now, too, the one near his log home. “Yeah. I remember those things.”
Jack turned and rapped his knuckles on the window. “And that tells me one thing. And one thing only.” He twisted around again, facing Ian.
“What?” Ian held his hand out to the side. “I’m dying to know.”
“You’re innocent.” Jack poked Ian’s chest with his finger. “You didn’t commit no crime back on Earth, ’cause if ya did, that’s the only thing you’d remember. You’d remember it all, every detail of it. It’s about the only thing us prisoners here on Reathran ever remember our first year here. Even our first day.”
“Innocent?” Ian fell back against the wall of the cave. “How can you be certain of that? And if I am, then what the hell am I doing here?”
“I know because I’ve seen only a few others like you land here on Reathran. Innocent ones. And they start opening up their mouths and yapping about their memories, and soon enough, the keepers can’t control them like the rest of us, and they realize a mistake has been made. An innocent one has been sentenced to Reathran for a crime they did not commit.” Jack hung his head low. “And they don’t send ’em back to Earth, they get rid of them. They kill ’em.”
“What?” Ian sagged onto the stool.
“If you’re innocent, which I’m pretty sure ya are, your memories will keep comin’ back to ya. But more than that.” Jack looked Ian directly in the eye. “The keepers won’t be able to control ya. The longer you’re here, and the more your memories return, including that you’re innocent, the keepers will eventually have zero control over you. None. They can’t stand that. They’d kill ya before lettin’ ya live here with free reign.” Jack grinned, his yellow teeth filling his face. “And I don’t wanna see that happen to ya. Because if you’re here with free reign, you might actually be able to accomplish something.”
“And what’s that?” Ian stood and turned away from Jack, attempting to gather his thoughts.
“Get yourself outta here. Get yourself back to Earth, somehow, and let the world know that this place exists, that they’re bringin’ men and women up here under the guise of the death penalty so we can do slave labor with radiation poisoning. That the death penalty for some isn’t at all what the world thinks it is. Maybe you can get us outta here. Maybe you can—”
“Jack. How? How could I ever escape this place? That’s impossible. And if other innocent ones have been here and haven’t survived, how am I supposed to survive, let alone get out of here?” Ian closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.
“’Cause they didn’t have me.” Jack poked his chest with his thumb. “I wasn’t living in their cell with them to know their memories were returning, to tell ’em the way it is here, to tell them to shut up, to not talk about it, and I certainly wasn’t around to bring them here.” Jack held his hands out to the side. “So I could tell them everything I’m telling you now. And we’ve only just begun.”
Ian stared at the ground. “You’re taking a great risk, Jack.” He returned his gaze to the gruff man before him, who seemed to have a glimmer of something in his eyes Ian had never noticed before, almost as if it were… hope.
Something inside Ian pressed in on all sides, a thirst to know more. To know it all. “Tell me the rest. Tell me everything.”
****
Earth, years earlier
Ian knelt and spun the combination lock on his safe one last time. Everything was locked inside—the classified documents, maps, and blueprints describing every detail of what they did, everything he and Malaki would need upon his return. Everything but the most important piece of evidence that would complete their objective. And that was what this was all about: that final piece. He’d return home with that.
He checked his watch. Time to go. He put his hands on his legs and pushed himself to standing and gazed around his home. Everything was neat and in its proper place. He massaged his face and took a deep breath. It’d be just right for when Malaki eventually returned here.
He strode to the door, but before he walked out, he stole one last look, trying to fix in his mind this home, this place of safety and tranquility, then he closed the door and passed the outbuilding his BMW was parked in and trekked down his long driveway.
The full moon gave him the right amount of light to see a little ways in front of him. He gazed up at it thoughtfully, knowing where he was going. By the time he got through the gate and to the very end of his drive, headlights came into view. Perfect timing.
The cab slowed to a halt, and Ian got inside.
“Good evening, sir.” The driver glimpsed Ian in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”
“The corner of Blackstone and Ridgewood.” Ian’s voice sounded strange, as if he hadn’t used it much lately. Which he hadn’t. “You know where that is?”
The driver nodded. “Kind of an odd place to get dropped off in the middle of the night, but let’s go.” He pulled back onto the road.
Ian attempted to relax for the half-hour ride before him. He was leaving freedom behind for who knew how long. Maybe forever. Would he remember this world again someday? Even this taxicab with the well-worn seats and dirty floormats could be a memory someday. A yellow air freshener hung from the rearview mirror, and a small crack spread across the windshield. A mellow song blared softly from the radio and the driver tapped the steering wheel to the slow beat.
Ian situated himself and the springs from the old seat squeaked. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. There was nothing to do now but keep moving forward, but he couldn’t help thinking back to his last conversation with Shannon…
“Well, then. Goodbye for now.” Shannon lifted her head high and pushed her shoulders back, as if to show Ian she didn’t care. Ian had ended things with her for good, knowing he’d be leaving. Maybe forever. “Just let me now when you want to see Anthony, and I won’t fight it. He is your son after all.”
“Thanks.” He reached forward
to squeeze her arm, but she stepped away from him.
“Like I said, just let me know.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but her chin trembled.
“Shannon…I-uh-I—”
“Just never mind.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “This is what you wanted, and so this is what you get. Just be in touch.” She turned on her heel and stormed away from him.
As she walked off, it was as if she’d ripped out his soul and taken it with her. He loved her, and yet he was letting her go. Forever…
“Here we are,” the taxi driver spoke up, and just like that, the car pulled up to his destination.
With a heavy heart, Ian paid the driver, tipping him generously, and stepped out of the car. He stood with his hands in his coat pockets, and watched the taxicab drive off into the night.
He strode to the alley near the corner of Blackstone and Ridgewood and hid behind a rust-pitted dumpster, then leaned against the mildew-stained brick building and waited. The narrow alley didn’t allow much light from the full moon, but he spotted a few newspapers and leaflets blown into the corner near him. The smell of rotting garbage along with beer from empty bottles pestered his nose.
Only about five minutes passed when a white van pulled up to the same spot Ian had been dropped off.
Before he stepped out of the dark alley, Ian looked left and right down the street. No one was around, which was why they’d agreed on this spot, at this time. Ian strode to the van, noting the long blue stripe across it with the words “Washington Police” in capital letters.
Ian slid the side door open and stepped inside, closing it immediately. This was a risky moment.
Malaki put the van in drive and hit the gas.
After about ten minutes, when they were finally on the freeway, Malaki turned and nodded to Ian, who let out a deep breath.
“We’re OK then?” Ian whispered.
Malaki nodded. “The cameras are deactivated.”
Ian took a deep breath. “Well, how did it go?”
“I highly doubt he’ll ever remember who he is. He’s long gone,” Malaki said.
“So, you didn’t… dispose of him then?” Relief washed over Ian. As much as the Knockshine man deserved to die for the crime he’d committed, it had bothered Ian greatly at the thought of doing that themselves.
“Took everything in me to let him go into the night.” Malaki’s knuckles turned white gripping the steering wheel. “But then I remembered what you and I had talked about. It’s not our place. It was never our plan. It could destroy everything on your end if I had done that. Then you would be guilty of a crime, even though I would’ve been the one to do it, you would’ve known about it. We couldn’t take that chance.”
He seemed to relax. “I dropped Knockshine off in the middle of the mountains in Virginia, and I injected him with a thorough dose of Tetracaphoxin, just like he would’ve been if I hadn’t freed him, so he’ll be sure to remember his crime for the rest of his life. Whether or not any other memories return to him, who knows. I hope to God they don’t. Obviously, some will, but hopefully, nothing good. He doesn’t deserve to remember anything good, only that he killed a man and his four-year-old daughter. Period.”
“Agreed.” Ian nodded. “Agreed one hundred percent. It should haunt him for the rest of his life. What about his family? Have you been able to get control of that part of the plan?”
“I’d been in touch with them. There isn’t that many—only a mother and sister—which is the main reason why I chose him to begin with. Physically, he’s perfect for D.R.O.P. He’d already been sentenced to death, and his mother is the only one who cared. His sister isn’t around. I’d been researching him for some time.” Malaki cleared his throat. “He was the perfect candidate for you to switch with.”
“What else?” Ian gripped the door handle next to him.
“Over the last couple weeks, I’d been communicating with his mother, who has been pretty distraught that her only son is a murderer sentenced to death. I spoke to her under the guise of one of the heads of her son’s prison—which I sort of am; we both are—and I told her there was one last chance to save her son.”
“You went with plan A then?” Ian rubbed his palms across the tops of his legs.
“Yes. Because it was just his mother; his sister doesn’t care and is not involved. I told his mother not to visit him or write to him or communicate to him, and if she did so, he might be able to escape the death penalty altogether.”
“You told her he was entering our pretend program? Where all contacts are eliminated. Only then could he have the slightest chance of succeeding?” Ian peered outside at the moon blazing in the sky.
“Yes. And I’ll be in touch with Knockshine’s mom on and off, letting her know her son is doing just fine. At some point, I’ll have to deal with the truth. I’ll think of something. As of now, you’re Ian Knockshine, and since Caldwell has never seen or met you, he’ll think you’re the real murderer and prisoner. He’ll put you to death as usual.”
“Speaking of Caldwell.” Ian sucked in a breath. “How’s he doing?”
“I spoke to him earlier today, told him I’d be delivering a new prisoner, Ian Knockshine, to his prison to enter D.R.O.P., so he’s expecting us in a few hours.” Malaki kept his eyes on the road while he spoke, his curly hair not too unkempt, considering the hour, and his beard trimmed and neat.
“Good, good. I finally get to the see the man. After hearing so much about him.” Ian clutched his hands in his lap. “And everyone else in The Circle? They’ve accepted I’m not coming back? I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve last spoken to you.”
“It had to be that way.” Malaki’s eyes went to Ian in the rearview mirror and back to the road. “If one of our leaders spirals into a psycho-crazy state, I can’t be seen talking to him in any way, shape or form. And we can’t trust that Price isn’t having us all spied on.”
“I know. How has he been since he got word of my so-called descent into madman status?”
Malaki shook his head, running his hand across his bearded chin. “I’m not convinced he believes us… um, me. He kept wanting to see you, talk to you, talk some sense into you. Thankfully I was able to talk him out of it every time—reason being your Circle duties are the last thing you should be thinking about right now. But still, I get the feeling he questions me, which is why I felt more certain than ever I should not speak with you.”
“Really?” Ian chuckled softly. “He couldn’t fathom I could go mad, huh?”
Malaki tipped his head to one side. “You’re the most brilliant man Price has ever known. Without you, there’d be no Tetracaphoxin, there’d be no memroth pods, and we certainly wouldn’t be where we’re at in this advanced stage of D.R.O.P. How can he possibly fathom someone as intelligent as you going mad?”
“Maybe it’s because of those things that I’m going mad. Makes perfect sense to me. Almost everything I’ve created or invented—whatever you want to call it—I’ve regretted. Nearly. Every. Thing.” Ian cleared his throat. “And don’t forget, I didn’t create those things on my own. You were by my side the entire time.”
“True.” Malaki smiled. “When we put our minds together, there is no greater brilliance.”
“Yeah.” Ian laughed. “So Price thinks I’ve left? Abandoned my home and run off into the night?”
“Yes. The taxicab driver can confirm it if needed. But I don’t mind saying the thought of you going mad has made Price a bit paranoid. He’s terrified you might, in your state, spill everything we know, all that you know,” Malaki said. “About The Circle, Reathran… everything.”
“Some paranoia in his life will be just what he needs. He’s despicable—allowing all of this to go on when he knows the truth, and killing Elijah because he wanted to expose it for what it is. I despise Price. Let him be paranoid. Hope it eats him up inside until he’s the one who turns into a crazed mad man and ends up incarcerated himself. Whether in a prison or an insane asylum.”
; “Too bad we couldn’t put him in D.R.O.P. Let him go up like his prisoners do.”
“Yeah. If only.” Ian chuckled quietly.
“About you,” Malaki continued. “According to the rest of the world, Ian Knockshine will be incarcerated because of his crime and sentenced to death because of it.” Malaki glimpsed Ian in the rearview mirror. “Right, Mr. Knockshine?”
At the sound of Ian’s new name, the reality of what they were doing smacked him in the face, and his eyes widened and locked with Malaki’s in the mirror.
It’s begun.
And they couldn’t undo any of it. This was it.
“That’s right.” Ian gazed out the window, the trees along the edge of the highway zooming past them. He was leaving Washington D.C. for good. Would he ever return?
CHAPTER SIX
Reathran
“We have about half hour before that train arrives.” Jack turned the computer on and tapped the keyboard for a few seconds. “This cave is powered by the very memroth we dig up. It gives us all the power we need. Just gonna get things ready for the train, and then we’ll head back to where we were.”
Ian rubbed the back of his neck and plunked down on the dirt-packed ground. He leaned against the wall, a fist of stone poking his back. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out deeply, trying to remember more of his life on Earth.
"I just need to type in everything for the train, before it gets here, which takes me a few minutes. Hang on tight." Jack spoke to himself quietly while he worked out what he had to do.