by Tim O'Rourke
I looked at Seth and Eloisa and they shared a knowing glance with each other.
Potter led us up the stairs and through a maze of corridors and passageways. Pipes ran along the walls and some of them hissed steam in short, smoky bursts. The corridors were lit from above by a series of neon lights and water dripped from the ceiling and ran down the walls. The facility looked as if it had quickly fallen into disrepair.
Stopping abruptly, Potter turned to face the wall. He pressed a series of buttons set into a panel on the wall next to a door. A red light flashed on and off, barring us entry to whatever lay on the other side of the door. Sucking in air, Potter sighed, rolled up his sleeve and smashed his fist into the panel. Sparks shot from behind it, then the door slid up and opened.
Turning to face us, Potter said, “Follow me,” and then slipped through the gap he had opened.
The door slid closed behind us with a hiss. I looked around to discover that we were now standing in a room that was oblong in shape. Down the length of one of the walls were two windows, which both looked out into a large glass container filled with water.
Potter glanced at me, raised an eyebrow, and then led us to the first viewing window, where we all peered into the murky water on the other side of the glass. I immediately jumped backwards with fright and had to stifle a scream. Behind the window floated a white thing. Initially it looked human with two arms and two legs. But it was its face that was all wrong. It looked like a disfigured version of Isidor.
The head of this half-breed, although similar in appearance to Isidor, was bloated and misshapen, elongated and stretched. It had two black eyes that swivelled blindly in two sunken sockets. Its mouth was huge and open like a flapping gash. But this was nothing compared to the umbilical cord that snaked from an open wound on the crown of its head. The cord coiled upwards and was attached to an underwater panel that flashed with a series of lights.
“What is it?” Seth asked, and I caught a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he glanced at Isidor.
Knowing that Seth was probably taking some perverse satisfaction from this, Isidor swallowed hard and walked closer to the window. “I’m surprised you don’t recognise it,” he whispered, as if fearing that he might wake the half-breed on the other side of the glass. “It’s meant to be me.”
“This must be one of the failed attempts at breeding a copy of Isidor from his DNA,” I spoke aloud.
I looked through the glass at the half-breed and watched as its jaws flapped loosely open and closed beneath the water. I couldn’t tell if this was a deliberate act on behalf of the creature or not. I hoped not. I hoped that it was dead and wasn’t suffering in some way.
Potter remained silent, and turning his back, he moved away from the window and came to rest in front of another set of glass panels. Again, it looked into an underwater chamber and inside this one floated what appeared to be a human girl. I gazed at her and she looked as if she were asleep. This time though, I had no difficulty in recognising who it was floating behind the glass. It was me, aged about eight-years-old.
On seeing the girl behind the glass I began to tremble.
“What’s wrong?” Potter asked, brushing my hand gently with the tips of his fingers.
Yanking his hand away, I pointed at the girl floating behind the glass and shouted, “That’s me! That’s me as a child!”
“What?” Kayla asked looking around at me.
Isidor was still staring blankly in at his deformed half-breed, his head tilted to one side. I knew that, just like me, seeing this other version of himself had disturbed him.
Seth seemed unmoved and said to me, “So this was you as a child? Cute!”
“Back off, Seth!” Potter ordered. “Can’t you see Kiera’s upset by this?”
“I was just admiring the Vampyrus’ creativity,” Seth smiled and winked at Eloisa.
“You call that thing in there creative?” I snapped at him. “That’s cruel. Whatever that might be in there is – was – living. It would have had feelings and emotions. How dare the Vampyrus do this to her – to me!”
“That’s like the Kayla-thing Isidor killed in that room at the monastery,” Potter said.
“Kayla what?” Kayla suddenly said. “What are you talking about, Potter?”
“Sorry, did someone forget to mention it, but there was a half-breed who looked just like you at this monastery we came across,” Potter started to explain. “Well, she had less hair than you and she was…”
“Potter!” I shouted at him. “Don’t you have any tact?”
“The girl needs to know the truth,” Potter said back. “You know the kid is like sixteen – you can’t protect her for the rest of her life.”
“What are you both talking about?” Kayla said, forcing her way between us.
“See that girl in there,” I said pointing to the eight-year-old me floating in the water. “That was just what I looked like as a girl. But what’s important, Kayla, is that in there isn’t me. That’s something the Vampyrus have tried to breed from my DNA.”
“So there are things out there that look like me?” Kayla asked, searching my eyes for the truth.
“Yes. But however much they try, they will never be able to make another me or you – we’re unique – and those things are just worthless copies.”
“It’s alive!” Eloisa suddenly said, and for the first time since meeting her, I could sense fear in her voice – but then again, maybe it was revulsion I could detect? I followed her bright yellow stare as she pointed at the younger-me floating in the water. The girl had opened her eyes and was staring at me. Although she looked like me in almost every way, her eyes were not hazel like mine but cold and black. Her skin was corpse white and wrinkled from being submerged in the water for too long. Her jet-black hair fanned out in the water like a mermaid’s fin. Kicking her legs, she swam towards the glass and looked at me. It was then that I noticed that it wasn’t just her legs that she used to propel herself through the water, but a set of fins – no – wings that grew from her back. Raising her one hand, she tapped slowly on the glass and the sound of her knocking sent gooseflesh down my spine. As if captivated by her stare, I inched towards the glass. With the tip of our noses almost touching, I felt an incredible wave of sadness come over me. I pitied her – I pitied me – but wasn’t that the same thing?
The girl opened her mouth as if to smile, but her lips turned upwards forming a cruel grin. I could see a row of razor-sharp teeth protruding through her gums. Then, without warning she began to smash her head into the glass as if trying to break it with her face.
“She’s alive!” Kayla shrieked, jerking backwards and away from the glass.
Shaking his head, Potter said, “Not alive like us. She doesn’t have feelings or senses.”
“How can you be so sure?” Kayla asked, not able to take her eyes off the glass.
“You try smashing your face in like that, and see if you feel it! She just exists,” Potter said, as he flipped a series of switches that were fixed to the wall by the window. “But not anymore.”
No sooner had he turned off the switches, the water drained out of the tank, like a bath having its plug removed. Sensing that she was in danger, the girl behind the window began to swish about, clutch at the water with her claws. As the last of the water drained from the tank, the girl collapsed onto her side. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she gasped several times, closed her eyes and fell still.
Potter turned away from the window and I followed. I couldn’t bear to look upon her – me – any longer. In my mind, I kept telling myself that she wasn’t me – she was a monster created in a laboratory like ‘Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein’. The girl had been a creature without a soul, just like the mutant back in the monastery. Potter had been right in turning off this girl’s life support. She had no right to life. But who was I or any of us to make that decision? Who had given us the power to play God? And then I thought of the choice that I would soon have to make and I almost
had to stuff my knuckles into my mouth to stop myself from screaming.
Kayla, Seth, and Eloisa followed us across the room. As we reached the door that led from the chamber, I looked back to see Isidor still standing by the glass and looking at the boy who floated behind it. Isidor stood only inches from the glass. He had his hand pressed flat against it as if trying to make contact with the creature on the other side. Then to my surprise, Potter headed back towards him. He slowly raised his hand, flipped off the switches on the wall next to the tank. Then, placing his arm around Isidor’s shoulder, he guided him from the room, and as they went, I could see the silver streaks of tears on Isidor’s face.
Chapter Thirty-Five
We sat together in a large dinning hall which I guessed had been used by the staff at the facility. Kayla and I finished the remainder of the tinned fruit I had taken from the supermarket. That seemed so long ago now. So much had changed, and my head and heart were trying to play catch-up. However much I tried not to think about Ravenwood’s letter to me, it kept worming its way to the front of my mind. All I could think about was the decision he had left me to make.
I do not have to tell you that the burden on you is great. The fate of two entire races lies in your hands. The decision to destroy an entire race is not an easy one – so choose wisely, Kiera Hudson.
Over and over again those words kept going around and around in my mind, like a broken merry-go-round that couldn’t be stopped. I thought that if I burnt that message, then those words would fade away like ash on a breeze, but if anything, it had only seared those words into my mind like a brand on a farm animal.
Isidor sat alone at one end of the table. He wasn’t eating. He sat and stared at the blank wall in front of him. Potter had taken one of the bottles of Lot 13 and was drinking from it. He rolled one down the length of the table towards Isidor, but Isidor just let it roll on by.
“You need to keep your strength up, kid,” Potter said, but Isidor just kept staring at the wall. Part of me wanted to go to him and talk to him about what I had read in that message left by Ravenwood. I wanted to tell Kayla, too. But, I knew in my heart that it wasn’t the right time. How could I talk to them rationally about our importance if I didn’t really understand the consequences of it myself? No, I would wait – get everything set in my own mind before I burdened them with it. So, getting up from my seat, I took one of the opened cans of fruit and went to him.
Hooking my finger into the can, I plucked out a slimy, crescent-shaped peach slice and popped it into my mouth. “You know, although these things are bright enough to light up the dark, they taste good.”
Isidor ignored me.
“Isidor…” I started.
“They had no right,” he suddenly said, his voice soft but firm.
“Sorry?” I said back.
“Phillips and the others had no right to take my DNA, to operate on me, do tests on me, just so they could make that deformed-looking creature back there,” he said.
“They’ve done it to the three of us,” I said. “I know that doesn’t make it any easier, but you don’t have to go through this alone.”
“What do they want from us?” he whispered, not taking his eyes off the wall, as if deep in thought.
“We’re special, Isidor, but you already know that,” I said. “This man – Elias Munn – I think that’s his name or it used to be – believes that he can copy us, take our uniqueness and harness it in some way. But the thing is, Isidor, that isn’t you back there and it never will be. I know it’s hard, but just think of it as a bad piece of sculpture. It might bear some faint resemblance to you or even look just like you – but it can never be you.”
“I guess,” he said turning to look at me. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Isidor, if there is one thing that I’ve learnt on this journey, it’s that whatever happens, all you can do is be true to yourself,” I said, “You can’t ever be more than that.”
With a faint smile, he said, “Thanks, Kiera.”
“What for?” I asked him.
“For being you,” he said. “Now where are those peach slices?”
I pushed the can towards him. “How are your cravings?” I asked him.
“Okay,” he said, pushing some peach into his mouth. “That Lot 13 Potter gave me back at the house has taken the edge off it. What about you?”
“I’m coping,” I lied, eyeing the tube of Lot 13 Potter had sent rolling down the table. “I don’t know if Potter was right.”
“About what?” Isidor asked me.
“That we’ll have to take Lot 13 for the rest of our lives,” I said.
“Well, he was right about one thing,” Isidor said.
“And what was that?” I asked him, curious.
“It does help if you’re angry,” he said looking at me. “It does help if you hate the ones who have hurt you.”
“How do you figure that out?” I asked, glancing back at Potter who sat some seats away with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“Because I’m not going to stop until I’ve taken Phillips’ heart out!” Isidor said.
I looked at him and it was as if he had lost that boyish look of his. He appeared older somehow, and in his once blue eyes, I could see pain. But it was more than that; it was like he had said – it was hate.
Feeling tired and wanting to be alone so I could think about everything I had learnt from Ravenwood’s letter, I left the others sitting in the dinning hall and went to look for somewhere to sleep for the night. My whole body ached with tiredness, and my head thumped with a dull thud.
I wandered along the empty walkways and corridors, and as I did, I had snapshot memories of the facility with its plain white walls and sterile floors. I came across a row of rooms and each one of the doors had a circular window set into them, just like the one from my dreams. I remembered again looking through the window as Isidor had stared in at me, his face haunted and scared looking.
“Kiera!” Isidor had screamed. ”Help me!” he had begged and banged weakly against the window. “We have to get out of here, Kiera!” and it was almost as if his screams were still echoing off the walls and down the corridors in the desolate facility.
Stopping in front of one of the doors, not knowing why I picked that particular one, I pushed it open and went inside. There was a bed set against the far wall and the blankets had been pulled back. There was an upturned chair and it made me think of Doctor Hunt sitting next to me as he read from those books. Righting the chair, I noticed something under the bed. I crouched and picked it up. I looked down at the book in my hands and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The book was ‘Peter Rabbit’. I thumbed through the pages and looked at the watercolour pictures of Mr. McGregor brandishing his rake as he chased Peter Rabbit across the allotment.
“Go on Peter, run!” I whispered aloud. “Don’t let him catch you!”
Closing the book, I placed it on the bed that I had once occupied. Knowing that I would be too uncomfortable ever sleeping in this room again, I closed the door behind me and looked for somewhere else to rest. I climbed down the stairs to another level and found myself in another passageway. Just like the others I’d searched, there were doors leading off of it. Pushing against one of them, it opened to reveal a narrow room with a small bed. There was no bedding, but there was a pillow. Stepping into the room, I closed the door behind me. Along the opposite wall sat two small lockers. One of the doors was ajar and I pulled it open. It was empty but attached to the inside of the door was a faded photograph of a young woman holding a smiling baby.
“Who’s that?” I asked aloud.
“What does it say on the front of the locker?” someone asked. I looked up to see Potter standing in the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, startled by his sudden appearance. I felt a little angry that he was here when I just wanted to be alone, but another part of me was glad, too. I swung the locker door closed and read the name that had been ste
ncilled across its front. It read: Coanda
I recognised the name as being the person who Ravenwood said I should seek out in The Hollows. I said to Potter, “Who is Coanda?”
“The person who used to own that locker, I guess,” he said. “Why, is there a problem?”
Still not ready to discuss what I’d read in that message from Ravenwood, I shrugged and said, “No, there isn’t a problem.”
Closing the door behind him, Potter came towards me. “I think there is a problem,” he said.
“What makes you think that?” I asked, looking away.
Taking my chin in his hand, he gently turned my face back towards him. “Please, Kiera, talk to me.”
“Why, so you can turn it into some kind of joke?” I snapped at him.
“That’s not fair,” he said, taking his hand away from my face. “You’ve changed.”
“I’ve changed?” I scoffed. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he said, lighting a cigarette.
“You’re always so freaking cranky,” I said.
“Is that it? And I thought you were being a stroppy-cow because you were struggling with how you felt about me,” he smiled.
Dropping onto the bed, I said, “See, that’s exactly what I mean! You never take anything seriously unless it involves smashing a door down, tearing up some vampires, or kicking some werewolf’s arse.”
“I take a lot of things seriously, Kiera,” he said, and his smile had faded. “Just because I don’t go around all day long weeping and wailing, it doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“Look at the way you were with Kayla back at the police station,” I reminded him. “There was no need for that.”
“Listen, sweet-cheeks, just in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in serious fucking trouble here,” he snapped, blowing smoke through his nose. “You’re not doing that girl any favours by being soft with her. This ride we’re on is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better! If she doesn’t toughen up, she’s gonna get herself killed, or worse.”