Thriller: I Am Sal - A Mystifying Crime Thriller (Thriller, Crime Thriller, Murder Mystery Book 1)

by Abraham Falls

  Branson was still grinning. “Look at that,” he said. “You know damn well it’s the truth, you can feel it. It’s all making sense to you now. You woke up all of a sudden, don’t know who you are, can’t remember anything, but you know all kinds of stuff. You can fight better than Bruce Lee, you can move and think faster than anybody else—face it, Sal, it’s the only explanation that fits. Hell, even your medical exam backs it up; what do you think that little shadow is in your brain? That’s the computer. That’s who you really are. Most of us, us normal humans, who we are is defined by the things we go through as we’re growing up. You didn’t have that, so the professor just programmed you to be who you are. He filled you up with all kinds of things, like how to fight and probably everything we know about medicine and science and all kinds of stuff. You know I’m right, I know you do.”

  I sat there in the dust, just staring at him. As much as I wanted to scream that he was insane, there was a part of me that knew he was telling the truth. Nothing else could explain all of the different little factors, my lack of memories, my encyclopedic knowledge, the way I handled those psychos in prison. Yes, even the shadow in the CAT scan—and it suddenly dawned on me why I blacked out during that test, as the electromagnetic waves from the CAT scan interfered with the electronics in my computer brain.

  John Saldivar, I thought. In a sense, I guess he was my father. I looked at Branson.

  “John Saldivar,” I said. “He was the second body in the burned house, right?”

  Branson nodded. “Afraid so,” he said. “At first, I thought you were him, and when you started with that amnesia stuff, I actually thought you were just trying to come up with a defense over killing Kyle. See, I didn’t know he was that far along on developing the clone; I thought that was still something he was working on, because he just started talking about it a few months ago. He said he had something that would make the clone grow pretty fast, but I never dreamed that he had a full-grown twin of himself hidden in that house. There was this cabinet in the basement, that’s where he grew you, but I never saw the inside of it.”

  “So you thought I was John?” I asked. “Then why didn’t you say so, the night you arrested me. Why did you say you didn’t know me?”

  “Don’t be stupid. Kyle Johnson was dead, your house was burning to the ground, I couldn’t afford for anyone to know that I was involved with you, or with him. If you wanted to pretend you couldn’t remember, then that just meant you couldn’t involve me. I figured I’d watch you, and if you started to act like you were gonna blow it, well, then you might have had an accident.”

  “So, you killed Johnson, didn’t you? That’s why you were right there, when I tripped over him.”

  Branson shook his head. “Hell, no, I didn’t kill him. That fucking robot did! I got there just a couple minutes before that happened, I guess while you were getting dressed. The fire had already started when I pulled up, and Kyle was standing in the doorway, waving at me to hurry and come inside. I went in, and he motioned for me to keep it quiet, then started telling me what had happened. He had gone to see John, like I told him to do, to try to talk some sense into him and make him understand that he didn’t have a choice, he was going to work with us. John, though, he blew Kyle’s mind when he called the robot into the room. He had it show off how strong it was, and bragged about how it could do anything, and Kyle—well, Kyle wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack. He decided that if we had the robot, we didn’t need John, so he tried to shoot him. The robot jumped in the way, and the bullet hit it, sort of knocking it senseless for a bit. That’s when John started yelling that the computer that controlled the robot was hidden somewhere else, somewhere safe, and old Kyle decided again that we didn’t need him, so this time he shot John.”

  I let out a sigh, as I heard that my last hope to truly know who I was had been murdered.

  “John went down, and knocked over a lamp or something, and that’s what started the fire. Kyle turned around and looked at the robot, then grabbed hold of it to try to get it outside, but it was too heavy. That’s why he was waving at me to hurry when I got there, but when he told me what had happened, I looked around and didn’t see John’s body anywhere. I was just about to go look downstairs when that robot suddenly came back to life, and it turned and looked at Kyle, then reached out with one hand and just grabbed at his throat. Ripped that whole side of his neck right out. He grabbed it, and looked at me, but then he went to his knees and fell backward. I looked at the robot, because I thought it was going to come after me next, and it just moved over to a corner of the room. I looked down at Kyle, and he was trying to hold his throat and stop the bleeding, but I knew there was no hope. I was just about to go on and look for John, and then all of a sudden you came into the room. You had your hands over your face, trying to block the smoke, but then you tripped over Kyle and turned around to him. I thought you were John, and I thought maybe Kyle just missed and hadn’t really shot you. I figured I needed to get rid of you, just to cover it all up, but then you started saying you didn’t remember anything, and I figured I could just hang you for killing Kyle. After you said you couldn’t remember, I didn’t figure anyone would believe anything else you ever said. Seemed like the best solution, and all I had to do was wait for things to die down, then go back and try to find that computer.”

  It was almost as if Branson and I were the only two there, that’s how intense the situation felt to me. “Then why didn’t you do that? Why bother with me at all?”

  He laughed again. “Are you kidding? Having a supercomputer is one thing; there’s lots of companies that would jump at the chance to get hold of something like that. But a computer that’s connected right into a human brain? As soon as I figured it out, I made a couple of calls to some friends in Washington. It seems the government would love to get their hands on you.”

  Suddenly, Gunner laughed. “You making a deal with the government? Man, you stupid! The government ain’t gonna do no deal with you, they just gonna take Sal, then they probably gonna kill you.”

  Branson scowled at him. “No, I’m not stupid. All they know is that I have access to such a clone, but they know they have to pay up before I deliver. They’re waiting for me to call them today, and set up a time and place to hand him over, and they know I won’t do that until I get paid. I won’t make as much as I would have if John had survived and worked with me, but two hundred million dollars is a pretty nice retirement fund, wouldn’t you say?”

  I looked at him. “And what happens to me?”

  Branson shrugged. “It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out,” he said. “It’s called reverse engineering, which means they have to take you apart, to see how you were made. You’ll be dissected, so that they can get to the computer in your head and figure out how it works, and how John put it there.”

  “So you get two hundred million, and I get killed? Somehow, that doesn’t seem very fair to me.” I was stalling, trying to figure out some way to get the upper hand. I thought that if I could frustrate or distract Branson, Gunner might be able to position himself in a way to get some kind of an advantage. Or, at least escape so that he wouldn’t be killed for my stupidity. There was no doubt in my mind that Branson was not intending to keep him alive. He was a liability, and with no witnesses, it’d be easy to explain that he was killed trying to escape.

  “What’s unfair about it? It hasn’t hit you yet, has it? You’re not even a real person. You’re not really even alive. You’re a computer that’s hidden inside a human body, telling it what to do. You’re not a human, and you’re not alive, so you can be killed. You’re a machine, and that’s exactly how you’ll be treated. Don’t feel so bad, though, I’m sure that, in some way, you’ll probably be the father to many robot soldiers in the future.”

  Suddenly, I saw it from his point of view, and I knew that he was right. There were laws against human cloning, so if it ever got out that I existed, it was highly likely that I would be considered some kind of illegal
entity. I wouldn’t have any identity of my own, because I wouldn’t be considered a person. The government, if they ever did get hold of me, would feel themselves completely justified in taking me apart to see how I tick.

  “Bullshit!” Gunner said. “Sal ain’t no machine, he’s my friend. And more of a fucking human being than your sorry ass!”

  Branson shrugged. “Well, unfortunately, your friend has got you killed. I’m afraid I can’t let you go, you know, the old saying about how you know too much. In this case, it’s true. You just know too much.” He pointed his gun at Gunner. “No offense, but it’s time to get this over with.” His finger tightened on the trigger.

  I had been sitting with my legs folded, Indian style, but suddenly I threw my upper body forward and unfolded my legs in a single movement, which threw me directly at Branson. I was able to generate a massive amount of power, and was moving surprisingly fast when I slammed into Branson. But, just as we hit, the gun went off. I hit him hard, and he went down, dropping the gun. I spun around to Gunner, and saw him holding a wound on his shoulder.

  “Freeze! Everybody down!” A voice screamed. A voice that I recognized.

  Decker! I thought.

  “Everyone freeze right where you are!”

  Chapter 34

  As soon as Branson got to his house, he parked his official vehicle on the street, then walked up his driveway to open his garage door. There was an old Ford van inside, and he backed it out into the driveway, before shutting the garage again. I was parked a hundred yards away, watching with my lights off.

  He started to get into the van, but then turned and went to the front door of his house. I saw him fumble with keys and step inside, and that’s when I made a rash and sudden decision. I jumped out of my car and ran as quickly and quietly as I could up to the van. It’s back doors were unlocked, and I opened one and peeked inside. There was a wall behind the front seats, so that the cab was cut off from the rest of the van. I quickly climbed inside, and pulled the door shut behind me.

  There were a number of things in the back of the van, including a tarpaulin. It was piled up near the wall at the front, and I quickly pulled it over myself as I leaned back against that wall. I was just behind where the drivers seat would be, but unless he looked into the back of the van, I was invisible.

  It was only a couple of minutes before I heard him get into the van and start it up, and then we were rolling. The ride lasted almost an hour, but finally, I could tell from the sound of the tires that we were on a dirt road. I was certain that Branson was on his way to meet up with Sal and Jackson, but I wasn’t sure exactly how that meeting was going to go.

  I was sure that the Sheriff knew Sal, despite everything he said. I was also sure that he had to be involved in the jailbreak, because there was something he wanted, and Sal was somehow the key.

  The van came to a stop, and I prepared myself in case Branson were to open the back doors, but he didn’t. I heard him walk past the van, and then the sound of his footsteps faded away completely. A moment later, I could hear him calling to Sal, but it sounded like he was quite some distance away.

  I went to the back door and peeked out the window, but all I could see was the side of a barn. There was no one in sight, so I opened the door and slipped out, closing it quietly and then running over to the barn. I could hear voices inside, so I carefully moved along the side of the barn until I came to the end, then stood near the door and listened.

  What I heard sounded absolutely insane, at first. Branson apparently had both of the escapees held at gunpoint, and was explaining how he had come to know the man who actually owned that house, a man named John Saldivar. The guy was some sort of computer genius, and I listened to the incredible story.

  The whole thing was crazy, and yet…it all added up. As strange as it sounded, it really was the only explanation that fit all of the facts. Sal was a clone, an artificially made person who had a computer for a brain. That computer, Branson said, could think many times faster than a human, which explained how he had been able to handle all of those men in that fight. For him, it was simply a matter of watching what they were doing and then calmly taking action to avoid or block them. It would have been like watching everything in slow motion, while still being able to move at normal speeds.

  The clincher, though, was when Branson mentioned the CAT scan. I had read the report the doctor had sent over, and it all suddenly made sense. If Sal had a computer in his head, that would probably explain why the magnetic CAT scan machine would cause him to black out, and the shadow that they saw was the computer itself.

  Now, Branson said he had arranged to sell Sal to the government, so that he could be dissected and reverse engineered. I felt revulsion, and for a second, I actually thought I was going to throw up, but I got it under control. I had sat at a table with Sal, and while he might have a computer in his head, I felt that there was still plenty of humanity about him.

  I mean, what actually made a person, a ‘person’, anyways? Was it his physical make up, such as his unique genetic code? Was it his personality, his free choices that made him specifically unique and different in every way? Or perhaps was it what some people called the ‘soul’? Which boiled down to Sal’s sense of internal, God-given morality and humanity. That allowed him to know right from wrong. To care for his fellow man, as he had for me, and Gunner, and a host of others in prison. That same humanity that told him not to kill all those men that attacked him, when he easily could have. Or how he had been so visibly shaken when Branson, just now, told him that his creator, John, had died in the fire.

  A robot could not do that. A robot had no feelings. No emotions. No ability to think, and learn, and feel, and…dream!

  I wasn’t going to sit still and let this happen, no, not a damn chance. But I wasn’t sure what to do. If I burst in and arrested Branson, Sal would still be exposed, and Branson might be able to grab him and use him as a hostage. The government wouldn’t be concerned about Sal’s civil rights, because from their point of view, he wouldn’t have any. He was not a natural person, and so he was not alive under any legal definition. And, in this county, if you aren’t protected by some silly ink on paper that we call ‘laws’, then you have no rights, and we can do whatever we want with you. No matter what our inner conscience tells us.

  There was no doubt in my mind that, if any government agency ever found out who he was, he would eventually end up on a dissection table. Which was unacceptable.

  I heard Branson tell Jackson that it was time for him to die, and decided it was now or never. I ran into the room, shouting for everyone to freeze, and then the gun went off. Sal had thrown himself at Branson, and the two of them were on the ground. I aimed my gun at Branson, who seemed stunned, but then he shook his head and reached out to grab Sal by the throat. He snatched up his gun, and shoved it against Sal’s head.

  “Back off, Decker,” he said to me. “You don’t want to get involved in this.”

  “Involved in what?” I asked him. “Murder? Extortion? I heard the whole story, you sonofabitch. Put the gun down, Branson, it’s over.”

  He just grinned at me. “You think so? I don’t. You see, I’m going to take our old friend Sal, here, and I’m going to leave. If you make any move to try to stop me, then he’s going to get a bullet in that cloned heart of his. If you heard the whole story, then you probably know I don’t need him alive; hell, I don’t even need all of him, just his head. That’s where all the important parts are.” He suddenly thought about having his gun aimed at Sal’s head, where he said “the important parts are,” and lowered it so that it was against his back, just behind his heart.

  I still had my own gun aimed at Branson. “No way, Branson. You’re not walking out of here with him. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  Branson laughed. He was keeping himself behind Sal, so that I couldn’t get a clear shot at him without hitting his hostage, and it suddenly dawned on me that he was getting even closer to me.

  �
��What have you got there?” Branson asked. “Nine millimeter? Mine’s a forty-four Magnum, and right now it’s aimed straight at your chest, right through Sal’s. If I pull this trigger, this big slug is going to take both of you out. Then all I’ve got to do is finish off Jackson, hack off Sal’s head and put it in a sack, and then I’m out of here. But I don’t want to kill you, Decker, even though you are a piece of shit. I’ll give you one last chance. Drop the gun, let me leave with this stupid robot, and I’ll even let you take Jackson back to prison. It’s a win-win for everyone. All the real people get to live”— Branson looked at Sal when he said this—“and no human has to die.”

  I had seen his weapon, and knew he was telling the truth. He was right—if he squeezed his trigger, Sal and I were both dead.

  I couldn’t let Branson leave. If I did, Sal was assuredly dead. Branson would disappear, and live his life happily ever after with his millions on some private beach somewhere. No, this was what I signed up for, and I was perfectly willing to die in order to save innocent lives. And there was no doubt in my mind: Sal was most definitely one of them.

  “No fucking way, Branson. I’m not going to let that happen. If you have to kill me, then you have to kill me. But there’s no way, while my heart is still beating, that I am going to let you take our boy away.”

  Sal’s eyebrows shot up in what could only be described as utter astonishment. Then, and I’m sure I saw it, a single tear fell from his right eye.

  Your damned right he’s one of us, I thought.

  Branson looked at me, shocked, not believing what he had just heard. He shook his head in befuddlement, before simply shrugging. “All right then, Decker, you die.”

  In an instant, everything happened at once. Sal spun around, trying to drive an elbow into Branson’s face, but he was a split second too late, as Jackson plowed into Branson with one of the best football tackles I’ve ever seen. He had been waiting for the perfect time to strike, and he’d been giving me eye signals that he was getting ready to make his move. Despite the fact that he had a fair-sized chunk missing from the meat of his left shoulder, he put everything he had into that tackle, knocking the breath right out of Branson and sending his gun flying across the barn.