Prototype

by Gretchen de La O

  The limo rolled to a stop, minimizing the GPS and saw that I was home. The door swung open and the driver helped me out before he led me to the back of the limo and pulled opened the trunk. The hair on my arms reached for the sky. I was wrong about Alejandro; he had one more thing to do for me. I shot the driver a questioning glance and then carefully reached my hand slowly down into the trunk and reclaimed my gun, its holster and my knife.

  I pushed the keypad and opened my garage door. Finally, I was home and I was exhausted. I didn’t want to check my messages or look at the mail that was piled on the floor inside my front door; I didn’t even care to unpack my bags, all I wanted to do was to take a hot steaming bath. I wanted to soak away the pain of losing my heart today. Wash away the part of my life I wasted falling in love. I needed to find a place I could exist where I am just me again.

  I pulled a towel from the hall closet, took advantage of the last little bit of mineral oil beads and headed to my modest bathroom, which in no way mirrored Alejandro’s. My tub was just big enough to lay out flat to allow the water to reach my shoulders. No jets, no bubbles, my mineral oil beads were my only indulgence. I pulled the lever up so my bath would begin to fill and tossed the remaining beads in the water. They say lavender has a soothing aroma. I really hoped that was true. I caught myself in the mirror above my sink. Lovely, the dark circles under my eyes were more prominent than normal, the cuts and bruises looked better than a couple of days ago but still nowhere near gone and my hair looked like a fountain flying out of the middle of my head. I looked like hell. Well at least my appearance matched my feelings. Hit by a truck, if I was only that lucky. Maybe dying would have been easier. I pulled my phone from my pocket and looked at the date. Friday, two days from now I was supposed to die … asphyxiation … if I was only so lucky.

  I tossed my phone on the vanity and pulled at my shirt stretching it around my forearms to fit it up and over my head when Marshall’s full name appeared in my right eye. Nervous, I turned off the running water and sat on the toilet. I figured if I was as quiet as possible he wouldn’t know I was home. The only drawback, he was trying to get into my head not my bathroom.

  “Marshall,” I answered. I knew where he was and what he was up to, I just hoped he didn’t figure it out.

  “Where are you? You’re not in California, are you?” he asked. I could tell he knew the answer to his question.

  “I couldn’t contact you. Like you fell of the grid so I did what I was trained to do if I was compromised. I came back to D.C. Is everything okay?” I tried to come across genuine and hide the irritation soaking into every cell of my body. As far as he knew, I was totally unaware of him being in California. Our paths never crossed.

  “No everything’s not okay—Sam’s gone missing. She went to California and hasn’t come back,” he lied.

  “Do you have anyone looking for her?”

  “Yeah, I have some people in California that owe me favors. So far nobody can seem to find her. I had to come back. I’ll debrief you tomorrow. First thing in the morning—my house—eight o’clock sharp.” He cleared his throat and waited for me to acknowledge what he said.

  “Eight—your house—anyone looking for her out here in D.C.? Maybe she came back like I did?”

  “No, I figured if they don’t find anything in the next couple of days. Then we’ll search this area. However, all evidence points to California.” He sounded convincing—scary. We said our goodbyes and then I disconnected from him, sick to my stomach.

  I knew he went to California, I knew he hired a monster to hurt Sam and disable her prototype. I knew she was in D.C. If he convinced me that she was still in California it gave him more time to hide her somewhere. This way he could remove any obstacles in his way including me. I was the last line of defense to stop Marshall from selling the prototype to other countries for massive profits and bottom lines. The longer this was in my head, the more I began to fear its absolute power.

  I lost the desire to take a bath, even if it was full of soothing lavender oil. I pushed the lever and watched the water run out, mesmerized by the whirlpool it created. I didn’t want to think anymore, I just wanted to sleep.

  Normally I loved to sleep in my bed, but tonight my skin seemed to be overly sensitive. Every time I moved, I felt the hair on my arms tangle with the fibers of the sheets. My legs were affected by the razor sharp pin-pricks when I slid them apart. I couldn’t get my feet warm no matter how much I rubbed them together, even with the down comforter. It wasn’t only my sense of touch that was different. I could smell things, tasting them as the aroma filled the back of my throat. The lavender from the bathroom was strong, that was explainable, still on my hands; however, the gun powder from my pistol wasn’t. Or the free sample of laundry soap that lay sealed in the pile of mail in my living room. My senses were on heightened alert.

  I got out of bed and walked out to my living room in the dark, I could see as clear as day without reaching to turn on a light. I bent down to the mail and rummaged through it, each piece smelling of every person that handled it. The sender, sorters, the mail carrier, every persons scent until I found the advertisement for the new unscented organic laundry soap. I dropped it; shocked I pulled my hands to my face almost throwing up. The scent of all the envelopes I had touched was on my skin. I ran to the bathroom and tried to wash it away. What the fuck was happening to me? My only explanation, the prototype was malfunctioning. I looked for strange things happening in my vision. Strange dots, blinking flashes, blind spots where the prototype could be crashing. Maybe it would be my hearing next … maybe things would get so loud I would go insane trying to silence the white noise. What if it was my sense of taste next? Immediately I contacted Roger. It didn’t cross my mind until he answered that I was in another bathroom with running water and talking to him, a habit that I had created, even subconsciously.

  “Hi Lauren, glad you’re home safe.” He sounded a lot better than the last time we talked.

  “Hi, Roger, how are you?”

  “Oh I’m a lot better. Just left the ER; they fixed my side and cleaned my cuts. The doc told me it would have been a lot worse if that skewer was even a fraction of an inch to the right. How are you?”

  I turned off the water and I could hear he was in his car driving, based on the sounds of the trees that passed him. He was going pretty fast.

  “Are you on the highway?”

  “Yeah—why?”

  “Because I hear the trees whistling past your open window.”

  “My window isn’t open.”

  I felt my stomach leap into my throat. I could hear trees whistling, his tires clinging to the asphalt and the hum of the engine. I could feel my skin crawl with an energy that vibrates at the level just between where my flesh meets the world. I needed to tell him what was going on.

  “Roger, I think there’s something wrong with the prototype.”

  “What? What makes you say that?” I could hear his doubt.

  “I think it’s malfunctioning or something, all my senses are really intensified. My sense of touch and smell are off the charts. Roger, it’s freaking me out. I can’t live with these feelings so intense. It’s like my nerves scraping across my bones and my skin isn’t doing anything to keep my soul from floating above me. I can’t even find a place to exist where I can’t smell people’s essence.”

  He was silent for a moment then cleared his throat before he spoke.

  “Lauren, that’s something you’ll get use to. Like the blinking cursor,” he said.

  “Well, thank God I won’t have to after tomorrow. I’m having this thing taken out of my head tomorrow after the debriefing.”

  “What debriefing?” Roger questioned.

  “Marshall’s house, tomorrow, eight in the morning.” I knew Marshall was setting me up. The one defense I had, he didn’t know Roger was still alive.

  “I want to go with you. I’ll pick you up in the morning. Okay?” I’ve known Roger for a long time and I could tel
l by the way his voice lowered he was apprehensive about me meeting with Marshall alone.

  “It’s a good thing Marshall doesn’t know you’re still alive.”

  “Yeah—good thing.” He didn’t sound convincing.

  “Back to this thing in my head—”

  “The prototype,” he interrupted.

  “Back to this prototype in my head; is there any way you can adjust the sensitivity it creates?”

  He was silent for a long moment and then started to bark instructions to me.

  “To dull the sensatory processor you need to enter settings. Next, scan down until you see the words sensatory processor. It should be about half way down on the right side. Run your eyes past it. It should say automatic. Highlight the word automatic and replace it with manual.”

  He must’ve stopped driving; I couldn’t hear the wind rushing past or his tires slapping against the road. I did everything he told me. Unemotional, to the point, that was who Roger was becoming to me. Maybe his prototype was already replacing his humanness.

  “Okay, got it. That’s it?” I was relieved.

  “No, we have to set the manual levels now.” His voice was steady. “Close that window; it’ll ask you if you want to save changes, say yes. Then it’ll reboot, give it a minute.”

  “Okay.” I took advantage of the lapse in time to use the bathroom. I lost contact with Roger and my vision went black as the prototype reboot. He didn’t tell me that was going to happen and I started to feel that familiar rock of apprehension cling to the space behind my heart as it climbed its way to settle the back of my throat. My vision returned and immediately my blinking cursor was transformed to Roger’s full name as he attempted to connect to me. I swallowed hard.

  “I wasn’t ready for that.” I washed my hands. The cold water felt refreshing on my skin.

  “Sorry, I should’ve told you about that.”

  He explained how to keep adjusting settings and told me the more I do it, the easier it will become. I kept telling him it was a waste of time because tomorrow he was going to remove it from my head. He let out an intentional chuckle and unwillingly agreed with my gripe. Before we disconnected he reminded me that he was coming over to pick me up in the morning. Like I would forget at this point … I just wanted one good night’s sleep.

  My eyes snapped open to ringing in my ears. I looked over at my clock; it was six in the morning. Groggy, I slowly reached for the phone next to my bed. When the dial tone mixed with the ringing in my ears I realized it was my prototype that rang and not my phone.

  It was Marshall. Why was he contacting me again? Confused and still half asleep, I answered his impatient call.

  “Marshall?” I could hear him breathing hard and his feet shuffling on the floor. “Don’t you understand, it’s what I had to do?” He was talking, but not to me.

  “Marshall, what is it?” I asked confused.

  “You know me; don’t let this affect our business.” He still seemed to be talking to someone else. It was like he called me on accident. He wasn’t responding to what I was saying. I attempted a couple more times to get his attention, but failed. There was only one way to get him to listen and that was me accessing the recordable feature in his files. I clicked around and shuffled through to Marshall’s recordable files. I focused on the recorder icon and instantly his world appeared in my eyes. I felt his heart pound so heavy I thought he was going to pass out. His eyes were closed, almost like a long purposeful blink.

  My eyes opened and I was in Marshall’s head. I was him. He was in his library. I felt his throat dry and his eyes burn and his fingertips stroll up across the textured spines of the gilded hardback books. His fingers rose to into my eyesight and caught what he was looking at. I felt the excitement build in his chest and his hand move toward a black and silver 9mm semiautomatic pistol. His fingers tickled at the cold steel barrel and his palm warmed the black handle. He slowly pulled it from behind the book and slipped it into the front of his waistband. I heard a breath behind him, it was familiar but I couldn’t place it.

  “I didn’t want anything to affect my business with you. Doctor Finway was a mistake, okay. I didn’t mean to kill him; all I wanted was to disable the prototype.”

  When our eyes met and I saw who it was, my stomach wrapped into twisted knots. The muscles in my arms and legs constricted, instantly causing them to shake uncontrollably. I closed my eyes, rolled over onto my stomach and pulled my legs up underneath me. I couldn’t handle this, not today. The tighter my eyes pressed together, the clearer my vision of Alejandro became. He wasn’t supposed to be in D.C. He wasn’t coming anytime soon. Why? Why did he lie to me? He started to say something, but my voice in my head was louder. He cleared his throat and his voice rose.

  “Did you honestly think I was going to be okay with you hurting Sam? Threatening Lauren? Sam is my employee.” His words hung strong in his tone. I felt Marshall’s voice come from the pit of my gut. My tongue parted my mouth and I felt my lips become moist before he spoke.

  “Not okay, but figured you would understand the attempt I made, at the very least, keeping her alive.” His smug attitude wrapped around my body as his hand rested heavy on his gun.

  “I’m not too understanding when it comes to people I value. Don’t push me Marshall, you will lose. Where is she?”

  Alejandro was standing square in front of me. I wanted to grab him, I wanted to push him, punch him, make him plea for his heart back. I want to watch him fall back alone and feel the same pain I had on the plane. I wanted Alejandro to ache like I had; I wanted his heart to burn to nothing more than ashes, like mine has. I hated him because he made me love him more than I’ve ever thought I could love again. I couldn’t do any of that; Marshall had a gun in his waistband and there was nothing I could do about it. I was balancing between the intolerable confusion of fear and frustration. I was a visitor in Marshall’s head with no ability to stop or change the outcome of what would happen.

  “I don’t know where she is. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Besides, it isn’t Sam you should worry about. If I were you … I’d be more concerned with the woman you decided to fuck,” Marshall sneered, taunting him for a reaction.

  Alejandro flung himself toward Marshall; toward me. His shirt pulled tight against his body as his eyes fill with revulsion. I braced for the pain to explode in my chest when his hands found me. Instead I felt my body timber to the books behind me. My head hit the edge of the shelf. Marshall slid down heavy. We were on the floor, Alejandro’s hands around my neck. The same hands that brought pleasure to my world, ignited a flame I hadn’t had in a years, were now choking me. Marshall couldn’t breathe and I felt his body begin to react and panic. I was scared to see Alejandro capable of doing this. Marshall reached up, grabbing at Alejandro’s grip trying to break it from around his neck. Marshall thrust his hand around Alejandro’s head. Everything Marshall did, I felt. I felt his fingers press into Alejandro’s eyes and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Marshall increased the pressure in his thumbs and all I could feel was my thumbs start to blind the man I had given my heart to. Alejandro let go of Marshall’s throat and I was able to breathe. Gasping, I welcomed the burning air that scraped down my throat. Alejandro stumbled back and brought his hands to his eyes. Scared by his aggression, I wished Marshall would have run, instead, he fumbled for his balance as he grabbed the bookshelves and pulled himself up. Marshall was trying to yell but only was able to breathlessly whisper to Alejandro.

  “You made a big mistake. One call and Lauren is dead. I’m the only one that can keep her alive and you just crossed the line.”

  “If you so much as harm one hair on her head, I will not stop until I hunt you down and kill you,” Alejandro snarled as he tried to rub the tears from his red swollen eyes. The anguish poured from his mouth.

  “Going into business with me was the best thing you could’ve ever done. Look what you got out of the deal. Five years of technology that you could’ve never done yourse
lf. If anything, you owe me.” Marshall’s voice cracked and I could finally breathe. My throat hurt like shards of glass poked unrelentingly at my trachea. Marshall pulled his head to either side to get the muscles to relax and stretch.

  “Five years and now you’re trying to back out of the contract with one week left. I gave you millions and for what? Nothing. Where’s Sam?” Alejandro asked, demanding an answer. His eyes were still swollen and red but I could feel he was surging with anger.

  “Maybe you should worry about Lauren and give up on Sam—just like you gave up on your brother,” Marshall spat, deliberately prodding Alejandro. I could feel the bile creep up my throat. In my head, I was in love with Alejandro, but the body I was held prisoner in hated him.

  “What did you say to me?” Alejandro turned toward Marshall. Slow motion clicked in my head and suddenly I saw Alejandro come at me in one sweeping motion. His expression hardened and his fists clutched tight.

  Marshall back pedaled and spoke freely as my world crumbled into the unexplainable.

  “You heard me. You gave up on your brother and now you’ll give up on Sam and eventually Laur—”

  Marshall’s head bent back and slid down the bookcase as Alejandro clocked him upside the head. I felt the side of Marshall’s face swell instantly and tears began to roll down from my eyes. The same hand that gently pushed my hair back from my face and tenderly touched my wounds a couple of days ago now inflicted disastrous pain; even if it was intended for someone else.

  I knew what Marshall was doing. I could put two and two together. He wanted Alejandro to beat him, hit him so hard that I would feel the pain Alejandro could inflict. Do it while I was in his head, hearing every word, feeling every blow. Experience the awful side of him. Cause so much wreckage so Alejandro would have to live with the consequences. I was desolate. I was terrified I was going to watch the man I love get killed by the man whose body I was possessing, unwilling.