by SF Benson
A black sedan, with tinted windows, heads toward us on the other side of the road at top speed. I can’t tell if there’s a second body inside.
“Stop the car!” I shout.
“Why?” Mark screams.
“That might be Ko. Let me out here. You go back for her.”
Mark quickly disagrees. “It’ll take you too long to get to the CHA building.”
“I doubt they’re still there. My money is on the old Coast Guard station,” I remark.
“Well, I’m coming with you.”
The two of us jump out the Jeep and I grab a rifle from the rear. Niang makes a U-turn, heading in the direction of the sedan. Fletcher is running to catch up as we sprint toward the old Dossin Museum. I’m praying there’s a boat we can commandeer.
Luck is on our side when we find a twin-keel power boat docked. Fletcher starts up the quad-outboards. Mark moves to the helm while I take a spot on the starboard side. I make sure the rifle is loaded.
Spray from the river mists over us as Mark increases the speed. Trees soon appear on our left. Up ahead, the old Coast Guard station is bathed in lights.
Fletcher comes up behind me. “That place has been deserted for a few years. Something’s wrong. Get ready for trouble.”
Mark cuts the motor, and we let the current pull us in.
A single boat is moored with a person standing on the dock. He notices our arrival and raises his rifle. Fletcher is faster. He squeezes the trigger, and the body drops.
As soon as our vessel touches shore, we jump out and run along the back side of the building. Fletcher leaves us and sprints past a set of darkened windows toward the corner. He holds up a hand with two fingers.
Two soldiers on patrol.
We can handle them.
Fletcher returns. “There’s a side door, and two men on duty. It’s the only way in unless we go to the front.”
“No,” Mark disagrees. “We take out the men. Aoki, you go back to the boat area. Look for another entrance. We’ll take care of the men and meet inside.”
His plan sucks, but I don’t have a better one.
I crouch along the edge of the building and lean back. Men in Riza gear walk near a door tucked in a corner. Feet scuffle against the concrete. Unintelligible words are spoken. I take a chance and poke my head out.
Two men walk with another body struggling between them. I suck in a deep breath. It’s Tru.
What the fuck did Ko do?
I squint a little attempting to see who’s with her. One man sports a rotund stomach and a white beard. The other is tall and lanky. I press my back against the wall. Leon and Griffin? Why the hell are they here, and what kind of deal did Ko make with them?
I’m ready to roll the dice with our lives when Mark lands beside me.
“I thought you were going inside with Fletcher.”
“We got in, but there’s a problem.”
“What?”
“My step-uncle and cousin are here. They have—”
“Tru.”
Mark exhales loudly. “Let me deal with my family. Fletcher’s gonna help you get your girl.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. If things go south, do me a favor and keep your eye out for Ash. We’re like brothers. He’s been through enough shit in his life. Losing someone else will—”
“I think I get it,” I interject.
“Thanks.” He pushes off the wall and steps into the light. As he approaches the big man, Mark asks, “So how long did you think you could hide from me, Uncle Leon?”
“Nobody’s hiding from ya, boy. Ya chose ya side,” the big man answers.
Mark comments, “But you’re family.”
“Yeah, right,” Griffin adds. “When we needed you—”
“Stop your jawing, Griff,” Mark says. “I can save you a little effort.”
Leon asks, “How so?”
“Cut the girl loose. She’s a lost cause. The SIM card was leaked on the DarkNet.”
“I still need the formula,” Leon says.
“I can give it to you. Let her go, and I’ll give you the card.”
“Don’t trust him,” Griffin says.
Fletcher drops next to me and whispers, “You ready?”
“Hold on. Let me hear this,” I tell him.
“No tricks, Uncle Leon.” Mark pauses a second. “It’s right here. Like I said, let the girl go and the card is yours.”
Footsteps echo across the pavement.
“Ya should have done this a long time ago,” Leon says. “We could have avoided all of this.”
“I didn’t have the card,” Mark responds. “Do whatcha gotta do.”
“Oh, we will,” Leon quips.
Mark asks, “The girl?”
Griffin chimes in. “We need something from her. Once we get it, we’ll let her go. In the meantime, she’s insurance. If we get out of here without anyone shooting at us, she’s all yours.”
“Where are you going with her?” Mark asks.
Leon responds, “My lab.”
No! I rise to my feet, but Fletcher pulls me back down.
“Give it a minute,” he says. “We know where they’re headed. If need be, we go after them.”
From my vantage point, I watch the Coast Guard lifeboat pull out into the open water.
“Eventually, the world will bow to the American Republic. You can’t allow the New Order to win. Take back our country, but do not, please don’t, tear it apart.”
—from Tru Shepard’s Address to the American Republic
Tru
Leon maneuvers the vessel away from the shore. In a matter of minutes, we’ll be in international waters. I glance over my shoulder. Another boat is following us. No shots are fired so, I’m guessing it has to be Mark and Zared coming for me.
A gray pickup truck waits for us in a parking lot near the Canadian shore. I slide in as Leon cranks the engine. Griffin gets in beside me. Fortunately, it’s a short trip to an unassuming strip mall. Most of the storefronts seem abandoned. A red sign, emblazoned with the words “Sieben Biologicals,” is displayed over a row of windows and doors.
Leon enters a code at the door, and we enter the building. There’s nothing special about the place. The lobby contains a few chairs and a check-in counter. A door is behind the reception area. On the other side is a sea of counters and lab equipment.
Griffin points to a chair against the wall. “Take off your jacket and sit down.” He grabs a tourniquet and a couple of needles from a drawer. His hand pauses over the tubes. “Uncle Leon, how many vials do you want?”
“Two red top vacutainers and two purple,” the big man says as he sets up his equipment.
I roll up my sleeve. Griffin ties on the tourniquet and tugs on a plastic glove. He reaches into another drawer and removes a sealed wipe.
“Make a fist,” he says. He studies my arm as he wipes the surface. Griffin palpates the vein and traces it with his finger. He shakes his head and repeats the process with another vein.
“You should know I have small veins. It’s always been hard to get blood out of me.”
Griffin sighs. “Would have been nice if you told me that in the first place.”
He returns the larger needle to the drawer and removes a package containing an apparatus with little blue wings and tubing. He also takes out four clear tubes—two with red stoppers and two smaller ones with little purple tops. I grimace when he inserts the needle with an attached thin plastic tubing. He inserts the other end into one of the larger tubes. I watch it fill with my blood.
Once the tube fills, Griffin quickly changes to another one. “You might feel a little lightheaded. This is quite a bit of blood.”
He isn’t lying about the after effects. I lean my head against the wall. “What do you plan on doing?”
“We’ll conduct some tests. First, we need to see how your blood responds to the vaccine.” Griffin sounds confident, nothing like the neurotic I first met. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to isolate the part of you
r DNA the inoculation attacks. With that information and the formula, we’ll engineer a cure.”
“If you’re successful?”
He smiles and inverts the tubes a few times each. “When we’re successful, we’ll release the cure to the Canadian public. Our officials will make sure the AR citizens get it.”
I’m not sure why, but I believe him.
After the last tube fills with blood, Griffin removes the tourniquet. He backs out the needle and applies a small bandage. He gathers the tubes and goes to the opposite side of the room. I’ll admit, this version of Griffin seems to be a mentally stable man. Maybe he’s in his element at the moment. I close my eyes. The procedure literally drained the energy from me.
“Here, drink this.”
I open my eyes. Griffin is standing in front of me with a disposable white cup. I peer inside. It looks like orange juice.
“I didn’t poison it,” he says and takes a seat beside me.
I take a sniff. It smells like orange juice. I take a sip before guzzling down the contents. The liquid is cool and refreshing. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.
Leon busies himself in a corner. He looks up at a monitor on the wall and swears. “I’ll be back. Ya stupid cousin is here. I need to let him in before he shoots out my keypad.”
When Santa’s evil twin leaves, I turn to Griffin. “What’s your stake in this?”
“How do you mean?” His brick-red head touches the wall, and he scratches underneath his beard.
Did I stutter? I didn’t think it was a difficult question. “Why is finding a cure to the vaccine important to you?”
Griffin stretches his long legs out over the yellowed vinyl floor. He crosses them at the ankle and slouches down in his seat. “Did you know Gliese had one of the earlier versions of the vaccine?”
“You mentioned something about that when you had a gun on us,” I remind him.
His shoulders curl over his chest. “Sorry about that.”
“Continue.” Griffin’s apology doesn’t change the facts. He scared the shit out of me that night. It’s not something I’ll easily forget.
“I’ve been trying for a long time to undo the damage the vaccine caused to Gliese. My sister hasn’t been herself. She used to be so outgoing before the vaccine. She and her girlfriend were a couple of party girls. After that poison was injected in her, Gliese’s life changed. She suffered from constant mood swings and depression. Eventually, Angela walked out on her.”
“Well, that sucks. But did Angela leave because of the vaccine or Gliese’s erratic behavior?” Something about Gliese’s story doesn’t feel right. When she needed her loved ones around her, they disappeared. First, her girlfriend, and possibly the brother she relied upon. It sounds a little shady to be honest.
His gaze darts to me, and his voice hardens. “It was definitely the vaccine. Angela couldn’t handle Gliese’s reaction to it.”
I tilt my head to the side. “How do you know her change in demeanor was caused by the vaccine?”
“That shit changed her,” he snaps. “Gliese admitted not feeling anything most days. She was like a blank slate.” Griffin bounces a knuckle against his mouth. His voice is full of pain. “She said she felt nothing for Angela or anyone else.”
Crap! The neurotic might be making an appearance soon. I need to tread lightly.
“Something isn’t right, Griffin.” I press my lips together and shake my head. “Did Gliese say those things to you before or after Angela left?”
“After.” Griffin rubs a hand over his head and looks at me. “What are you getting at?”
I take a deep breath and hope my probing doesn’t push him over the edge. It’s a risk, but he needs to realize the truth.
“You’re the scientist.” I face him. “You should know there’s no such thing as a LBGTQ gene. Granted, the leaders have tried to convince citizens of its existence ever since they took office.” My gaze flicks to the ceiling as I say a prayer for guidance. How do I get him to see the obvious? What picture can I paint that will make sense to him? “Come on, Griffin, it doesn’t take a genius to know you can’t remove a person’s sexual identity or preferences. You can’t pray it away or inject it away. Period.”
His eyebrows knit together as a scowl appears on his face. Griffin’s voice comes across abrasive. “You saying my sister lied to me?”
I face-palm. He doesn’t get it. The gentle approach is wasted on him. “Get your boxers out of your ass. She didn’t actually lie to you. She just withheld information.”
“Same thing,” he mutters.
I ignore his pointing out the flaw in my logic. “Think about it, Griffin. Angela broke Gliese’s heart. Your sister is trying to protect herself from getting hurt again. If she had been honest with you, I’m sure she would have told you things were rocky with Angela long before the vaccine.”
Griffin drops his chin on his chest and lets out a loud breath. “I’ve been an ass.”
“No disagreement there,” I mumble.
He cuts his gaze at me.
“Sorry.” I shouldn’t poke the bear. “Go on.”
“I should have realized she was lying. But I was so upset about her condition. The vaccine made Gliese sick for days. I assumed she was telling the truth about all the side effects. It’s why…” Griffin’s voice trails off, and he pushes himself to his feet.
“Why what?” I’m on the edge of my seat. If he’s finally catching on, then maybe he’ll give up on the idea of fixing Gliese. The girl doesn’t need repairing. She needs understanding. His understanding. And love.
“I’ve been feeding her addiction, that’s what. Keeping her on mood stabilizers wasn’t helping her. I enabled her.” He holds his hair away from his head and stares up at the ceiling. “I should have seen it. She stayed drunk and high with Angela.”
Whoa! I didn’t expect that revelation. The truth must feel like a punch in the gut. “Well, now you know.”
“Know what?” Mark’s voice comes from the doorway. “What does Griffin know?”
Griffin lifts his eyes. The pinched expression on his face speaks volumes. Thankfully, the centrifuge dings, and he walks away from Mark.
“Where’s Zared?” I ask cautiously.
Mark keeps his gaze locked on his cousin but doesn’t move from his spot. His mouth twists. “Stop worrying. He’s outside with Fletcher. Your boy complained about being around my family.”
After witnessing the display of testosterone in this room, I’m grateful Zared isn’t a part of it. Last thing Mark and Griffin need is added fuel to their fire.
“Griffin, are we done here?” I ask.
“Not so fast,” Leon speaks as he walks in. “I need to test the vaccine with ya blood. In the meantime, ya can unlock the SIM and give me access to the formula.”
I do a double take. How did he get the card? I think back to the exchange on the dock. Right before Leon got on board the boat, he shook hands with Mark. But it makes no sense. Why would Mark risk stealing the card just to hand it over to his step-uncle?
Leon stands in front of me with a laptop. A SIM card reader hangs out of one of the USB slots. He demands, “Either ya input ya AR code or give it to me.”
I flex my fingers and bite my bottom lip. My little voice nags at me, telling me not to comply. But I’m tired of protecting the card. My fervid guarding of this piece of tech hasn’t helped anyone. Not one single person. Instead I’ve lost loved ones because of it. Every minute spent trying to hide the truth is another person who might die. It’s time to stop defending inanimate objects.
I lean forward and type in my nine-digit code. The Access Granted screen pops up along with a series of file icons. “It’s done.”
Leon takes the laptop and performs a few keystrokes. “Damn,” he exclaims. “The formula is locked, as well.” He taps his fingers underneath the computer.
“What?” Automatically, my fingers grip the ends of my ponytail and start twirling the strands. A gesture that once gave me a m
easure of solace only turns up a huge tangle. Oddly, it reflects my current thoughts. I drop my hand. “Do you need my code again?”
“No.” He rakes a hand through his thick white hair. “This code might be irretrievable.”
I wrinkle my nose. “What do you need? Maybe I can help?”
Leon tilts his head to the side. “Do ya know the code for Aya Abdullah?”
“That was Cris’s birth mother…” A dull ache moves through my chest just thinking about my adopted brother. I hang my head. “No. But can’t we figure it out?”
“I’m not a computer hacker,” Leon admits.
“I might be able to help,” Mark replies. “Give me a few minutes with the laptop.”
Griffin walks over to us. His eyes narrow. “What do you want in exchange?”
Mark shakes his head. “I only ask when you find the cure, you don’t release it to the public right away. Give us a chance to take down the New Order. Once we annihilate the government’s leaders, you can reveal the results.” He extends his hand. “Deal?”
Griffin raises his hand like he’s going to accept the gesture. He bypasses Mark and scratches the back of his neck, mumbling something unintelligible.
Leon shoves the laptop toward Mark. “Do what ya need to do. But she”—Leon points a finger at me—“doesn’t leave until ya crack the code. Remember, there’s a failsafe on the file. After three attempts, it will self-destruct.”
“Three strikes and I’m out?” A cocky smile slides across Mark’s face. “Guess I better not fuck it up then.”
Leon shakes his head and returns to his beakers and test tubes in the corner.
“Chaos only breeds confusion. We need, we deserve clear thinking and responsible leadership. Get the current leadership out of office before it’s too late.”
—from Tru Shepard’s Address to the American Republic
Zared
Standing outside the building like a vagrant locked out of a soup kitchen pisses me off. I only agreed to stay put to avoid a showdown with the men who threatened to kill me. Mark promised me nothing would happen as long as I maintain my distance. But Tru’s still inside. And my patience is wearing thin.