Prototype

by Gretchen de La O

  “Where are you? I thought you would be here already.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

  “I’m still in the city. I will be there later today. Just do what I say! And get to a hospital; someone should take a look at you.” I paused to swallow and finished my rant. “Do you hear me, get to the hospital.”

  He made a short wounded noise.

  “Fine, but I need to find her before he—”

  “I know, I will do my best to get there as quick as I can.”

  I disconnected from him grabbed my cell phone and pressed the button for the last call I received. I felt my throat tighten as the ringing against my ear sped to an anxious pace.

  “Hello,” Alejandro answered quickly.

  “It’s Sam,” I whispered in a trembling voice.

  “I’m on my way. Stay there,” he breathed as the phone went dead and three beeps confirmed he hung up. I collapsed into a chair, totally disbelief ravaging my thoughts. Suddenly, I realized just how alone I really was with this prototype in my head. Thoughts of my impending death swirled rapidly through my head. A textbox dictating my death by asphyxiation in two days and the only thing that keeps thundering through my head is finding ways to save Sam. Death by suffocation or at the hands of a monster, two days isn’t enough time to contemplate the rest of my existence. Sam could quite possibly be the catalyst for my demise in the first place. Besides, I couldn’t do anything right now but wait for Alejandro to show up. I laid my head across my arms knowing I should’ve already been in D.C.

  A warm pressure radiated in circles against my back causing me to open my eyes. I have no idea how long I was passed out before Alejandro arrived. I thrust my body up from the chair, wrapping my arms tight around his neck. I buried my face deep in his chest and started to cry. Something that happened more and more lately, it was the fear of losing him that weighed so heavy in my mind, even more than having to tell him that Sam could be dead. I inhaled until my lungs burned with pain, keeping my face crushed into his chest trying to find the ability to tell him what I knew.

  “Roger didn’t get to Sam in time.” I pulled in another breath. “I’m so sorry, Alejandro,” I cried. Desperate to move past this moment, the despicable words I was going to be forced to use. God, please help him understand.

  He pushed the hair back away from my face and looked into my swollen drenched eyes.

  “What do you mean, in time?”

  He pulled at my chin making me look into his eyes.

  “I should have been there! I belong in D.C. If I was there, I could have stopped this.” My hands ached from holding him so tight. I was desperate, reeling from the fear of losing Alejandro. I couldn’t lose him over this; fear surged through every thought that swallowed my words.

  “Tell me, please, what happened to Sam?” Alejandro’s desperation pulled at every string dangling from my heart.

  “Roger went to her house. He … went there … He beat her badly.”

  Alejandro looked at me confused.

  “Roger?” His eyes widened as his face lost all its warmth.

  “No, the man, the man Marshall hired. Roger, he tried, I swear he tried to stop him, but he couldn’t, Alejandro, the guy knocked him out. Sam … she was gone once Roger came to.” I was stammering; words wouldn’t come out right, tears were swelling again as I had to relive that moment again. As bad as I wanted to look into Alejandro’s eyes, I couldn’t; I knew it was my words that were shredding his heart apart.

  “Where’s Sam now?” Desperation saturated his face, his body surging with the impatience. Caged with little information Alejandro frantically searched for answers I couldn’t give him.

  “I don’t know.” I looked away.

  He turned away and pulled out his cell phone. His eyes burning with hatred, his cheeks flushed red matching the edges of his ears. Deep frustration pooled in his eyes and instantly I knew what this was. It was the nightmare ending to my perfect dream. It was time to see the awful person that everyone tried to warn me about. Here was the thorn of the rose I grew to admire.

  His voice was low but I could tell he was speaking in Spanish. I heard one word that I could understand. One that made my skin crawl, a word that didn’t need a translation … Marshall. Then he tapped his phone, slipped it into his pocket. When he looked at me, determination deepened the lines in his face.

  “Lauren, my jet will take you to D.C., be at the airport in one hour.” The determination in his stride told me he had another agenda, one I wasn’t privy to.

  “Aren’t you coming with me?” My hand drew forward to stop him. This wasn’t happening! There was no way in hell I am getting on a plane without him. Rip me open, tear out my heart … no, this isn’t going to happen. It.can.not.be.happening. Not when I just found perfection. Every muscle in my body ached, struggling to keep me upright.

  “I will meet you there. I have some garbage I have to take care of here, first.” He opened his arms and invited me to him. He looked resolute, stern, like he knew this was going to happen.

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t go into his arms; I didn’t want to experience what I know won’t be mine anymore. His comfort, his smell, the warmth of his breath as he presses his lips to the top of my head, if I get on that plane I’m afraid he won’t be mine anymore and I’ll lose him for good. I didn’t want to accept this. I shouldn’t have to accept this.

  “I don’t want to go without you. I can’t, I can’t go without you!” My hands hung heavy against my sides before all my insides start to crumble and I needed to double over.

  “Lauren, look at me.”

  I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t look at the man who took my heart, and resided in my soul.

  “Please, look … at … me.” He nudged closer and pulled up on my chin. I kept the space between us, my way of protecting the lonely girl from crashing into the pit of hell.

  “I promise with everything I am, I will meet you when I can. But, Lauren, you must be careful. These people are dangerous. Promise me you will be safe. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” He pulled me into his arms and they were warm and secure, and yet at the same time I could tell he was anxious to leave.

  I lengthened my neck kissing him so hard that he pulled away to lighten the pressure between us. Our lips moist with passion and fear, our arms pillared with the burdens of our unknown future together we embraced for a changeless flicker of time.

  Time was not sensitive to us; I was the first to pull away. My arms became cold, lips dry and the spark he ignited in my core faded to a suspended ember.

  “Keep your promise.” My voice was barely over a whisper.

  Our arms pulled to a bridge as our last connection before our hands broke apart and dropped to our sides.

  “Promise,” Alejandro mouthed as I watched him pull the door open and disappear into the west coast life I was abandoning.

  Forty-five minutes passed from the time Alejandro left me, to the time the limo pulled next to the jet on the tarmac. I had fifteen minutes to spare before Alejandro’s jet was scheduled to take off.

  My life had changed dramatically in the last week. I’ve lost too many people and haven’t felt so alone since I was a kid … Oh, shit, my parents! What in the hell am I going to tell them? I never called them or went to see them … and now, I was at the airport leaving California.

  The limo driver opened my door and helped me out of the car. I looked back and saw two men loading the luggage into the belly of the plane. I climbed the steps and wished Alejandro was going to board his private jet with me. A familiar loneliness cascaded through my soul. I reached the top of the landing and greeted the pilot. “Welcome aboard, Miss Matthews, my name is Captain Gary Arrow. My co-pilot, Captain Robert Pulls, is performing our preflight check; once that’s complete, and we get clearance for takeoff, we will have you in the air and on the way home.”

  “Thank you,” I answered.

  I step into the jet, and lost my breath. It was gorgeous, just like the ones you see
on the television. The beige rounded walls parted with rich mahogany cabinetry pushed off the sides and over-sized root beer brown leather recliners. The temperature set to a perfect 75 degrees warmed the exposed parts of my body. I sat in the plush recliner, my backside warmed as I pushed back into a reclining position. A space fit for a tired queen.

  When I opened my eyes I didn’t expect to see a tall, thin man standing in front of me. He cleared his throat before introducing himself.

  “Hello, Miss Matthews, I am Captain Robert Pulls, co-pilot for your flight today. We are about to be cleared for takeoff, we will need you to upright your seat and fasten your seatbelt, please.”

  I pushed the footrest down on the chair.

  “And, Miss Matthews, Mr. Fernandez asked if I wouldn’t give you this. He’s requesting you don’t open it until we are in the air.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  I held Alejandro’s letter in my fingers. It was so light it didn’t feel like anything was in it. I flipped it over and noticed it was sealed. Maybe it was in my head, but I could swear it smelt like him. I held it to my nose and kept breathing in his scent. Every memory of us being together flocked to the deepest places he’s been. Every tear I’d spilt, every kiss we’d had, every orgasm he’d given me swirled across mind. I was scared to open this letter. What was he going to say to me? What words was he willing to write on the paper? Was it the promise written in ink?

  I felt the plane taxi to the runway and then suddenly the familiar pressure against my chest as my body pressed heavy in the chair. I felt my body adjust to the elevation changes as the pilot spoke from the Bose speakers above my head.

  “We will be flying roughly two thousand four hundred and forty nine nautical miles today. Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy your flight Miss Matthews.” I held the envelope still unopened waiting for a moment that my heart wasn’t in my throat. Waiting for the tears that threatened my cheeks to dissolve. I pulled on the sticky part of the envelope and it pulled open so easily, easier than I expected. Part of me wanted it to fight with me, be stingy with its contents. I wanted to feel the need to rip it open but when I saw the white lined paper, I didn’t care … I just needed to see what he wrote to me. It was folded so perfectly but, all I could think about was reading his words. I pulled on it and realized that I had never seen his handwriting before.

  Dear Lauren,

  By the time you get this letter you will probably be flying over Las Vegas. A place I would like to take you some day. We haven’t had much time together but what we have had has been incredible. I want you to know that I will forever be changed by you, mi dama. I didn’t expect what Roger told me to be so absolutely true. Your loyalty is inimitable, your courage miraculous, your desires unstoppable and your beauty solid to your soul. Being able to experience it first-hand was a gift you gave me unconditionally. I thank you.

  But now I must tell you news I know you will not like, but I need you to know all of me. Every part whether it’s good or bad. I wish I could change my life to better suit you, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I will be driven by the injustice and pain of my brother’s murder. I can’t change that part of my life, so I create solace in the justice where I can.

  I wish so bad it didn’t have to be this way, but there is nothing more I can do to make you understand. I won’t be going to D.C. to meet you. Not today, not soon.

  Just know that you are strong in my heart, every corner belongs to you. Every beat will call your name and with every rush of my blood, I will be regretful of this day. I am not wicked or immoral, please know that. When I am done with the demons that haunt me, I will come for you. Until then, please stay safe. I’m sorry I can’t keep my promise to you, mi dama.

  Yo no espero que me perdone, pero yo espero que.

  Honorablemente Tuyo,

  Alejandro

  My head spun, my face ran cold and I couldn’t stop my body from reacting. A hole as huge as a planet formed in the pit of my stomach. I felt the pain surging up my throat. The worst isolation crashed against the sides of my head as the vise of rejection clamped down. The chorus of his written words built the desperation my soul clung to. Suddenly I felt desperately angry.

  Why did I let him in? Twelve years I waited to invite someone in, someone who was worthy of me. Was Alejandro worthy? Was this what a worthy person would do?

  My mind twisted, pulling away from my experience, it disconnected from my body and played a memory of my life I buried so deep inside that I almost didn’t recognize it.

  Agony filled the halls of the hospital. The mustard-colored chairs bolted in a straight row uninviting to the desperation that weakened my legs. My mom grabbed me as I stood there. I couldn’t cry anymore. I was physically out of tears. Her arms crushed against my ribs as she held me in a protective grip. I remember smelling carbon paper and mixed crayons. I didn’t know if it was her or the slow loss of my mind taking place. I had just left the hospital room, without the man I allowed to live in my heart.

  Peter and I were in love. We met in the summer between our junior and senior year at Stanford. We were going to move in together.

  He was studying to become a pharmacist and had a couple more years left of school. I had graduated and was ready to start my life with him.

  I was told it was a turf war between rival gangs, a drive by shooting. He was caught in the crossfire. The police found out later it was mistaken identity. The bullets grazed his heart and punctured his lung. The doctors tried everything. Within hours he had to be put on life support.

  You can’t die, Peter. You have to fight hard, fight for life, choose me damn it! Chose to live for me!

  It wasn’t my choice; I had no power. The doctors said Peter had no brain activity when his parents finally arrived from Oregon. They never talked to me about it … never considered my feelings. Two days after Peter was put on life support, his family signed the forms to take him from my world. I watched as he took his last breath, his chest stopped moving and the bouncing line on his heart monitor fell flat. My Peter was gone. My life was gone. As fast as my dreams came true, they had vanished in that instant. I promised myself that day I wouldn’t fall in love again. I wanted to run. Run as far away as possible. Get away from the pain that lay breathless in the hospital bed.

  I went home that night, found the acceptance letter from the CIA Training Academy, packed my bags for Washington D.C. and never looked back at that agonizing day—until now.

  Alejandro wasn’t fair to me. He waited until I was a prisoner, unable to stop the plane. The letter crumpled in my hand, the words on the page blurred by my falling tears I flattened it and read it again. Maybe I missed something. I felt the same anguish I did the first time I read it. I pulled my legs to my chest, balling into a protective fetal position. I wished I was numb to the world.

  It wasn’t going to be the case today. A woman I had no idea was on the plane walked slow to me as she called my name.

  “Ms. Matthews, I have to ask you to buckle your safety belt for our descent into Ronald Reagan Airport. I think you dropped this.” She held Alejandro’s letter out to me. My hand shook as I collected it from her. The paper still damp with my tears; the creases still there from when I crumpled it.

  “Thank you,” I rasped.

  I looked around the plane, nothing around represented who I was … and yet, I was living in the pain of being here. I flattened his words against my heart … Where did the five hours of my life go?

  I walked down the steps of the jet and watched the limo driver load my bags into the trunk of another limousine. The last thing Alejandro did for me in his attempt to keep me safe. My foot pressed firm into the dark tarmac removing me from the last reminisces of my trip to California. I couldn’t look back. It was too painful to see where my life had dropped me off. I didn’t want to meet up with the lonely girl that resided deep in my soul. I had lost the man that stole my heart and seared himself in my soul. Once again, I had to leave behind my life in C
alifornia. I had to find my strength. The sooner I found Roger, the sooner he could take this thing out of my head. I was done with Marshall done with everything outside of the CIA.

  I lowered my head and crouched into the back of the limo. The driver told me he had been instructed to take me home. I gave him a nod and closed my eyes. My mind filled with the one person I least expected to think about. Marshall Grayson. What a piece of work. How I ever found him appealing was beyond me. I let out a short breath of air through my nose thinking about where he could be. Instantly, I was startled by Marshall’s file filling my eyes. I noticed the GPS icon glowed bright. It was different than I expected, in seconds a map of the world appeared with each country being a different color. I noticed that the United States was the only one that had a bright yellow aura. I focused on it and it magnified across my vision. Four brightly lit red flashing bubbles bleeped on the screen. Three were in the Washington D.C. area and one that appeared to be slowly moving across Virginia. I focused on the moving one; a text box large enough to hold all the information I needed appeared next to it.

  Marshall Grayson

  Richmond, Virginia

  Coordinates:37n33,77w28

  My legs went numb and a crisp humming swamped my ears. The text box went blank, and an animated white circle spun like a record. Suddenly, the information appeared again but this time he was in Fredericksburg, Virginia heading straight to D.C. His bright red bubble was moving so steady, the only logical explanation—he was on a plane, that heartless coward. I repositioned my eyes on the three bubbles in the D.C. area and watched as information popped open for each one. My bubble was moving really slow, recalibrating as the limo drove toward my house on the outskirts of D.C. Roger’s red bubble was undisturbed at George Washington Hospital. It was the third bubble that piqued my interest. It was Samantha’s. I felt a wave of hope crash through me. Could this be the one time this thing in my head will be used for good! My heart clung to the back of my throat. The last time I saw Samantha she was severely beaten and had been abducted from her house. I noticed she was moving away from D.C. and heading north. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach, where was she being taken?