by Jill Cooper
“Don’t worry about it. It’s under control. Can’t make an omelet . . .”
Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut. “Is Wendy okay?”
“There are other subjects here, Rebecca. If I were you, I’d be more focused on Jenna and what happens if you let Dirk get here too soon. I need another week and then we’ll be ready for him. Do you think you can handle a week?”
The journey to New Haven 57 would take at least three days and with the kids sick, Dirk would never leave, so yes . . . Yes, Rebecca could handle that. She just hoped they weren’t singed by dragon fire on the journey. “Is Jenna still docile? Is the baby she carries still alive?”
“Alive and thriving. We’ve had a few near misses, but my ace in the hole is doing a good job of keeping her calm. Her blood samples are incredible, Rebecca. She’s everything I always hoped for; a Holy Grail of sorts. Jenna was the perfect blending of glistening and human except for a few flaws in her genetic markers. Next we’re removing those in hopes her child won’t have the same side effects she experienced growing up.”
Healing that baby might be the only thing stopping Jenna from killing them if she ever figured out what was going on.
“And the baby?” Rebecca asked and peered around to make sure no one would see her.
“It’ll be born soon enough, but don’t worry. We’re getting more than enough samples and data from Jenna now. Once the baby is born, we’ll have no reason to keep her around anymore.”
“Good.” Rebecca’s lip snarled. That woman had been a troublemaker long enough. It was time to be rid of her. “And when I bring Dirk there . . .”
Gerard laughed. “He’ll join her in hell. Then nothing will stand in our way.”
Rebecca let out a long sigh of relief that she’d be free of this deception. “I better go before someone misses me.”
“Do try to stay alive long enough. A treatment will be waiting for you.”
She smiled as she ended the call. Eternal youth and beauty, perfect skin, glamour, it was more than a woman of this time had the right to wish for, but now it might be hers. It could be Rebecca’s, if only she could keep things going awhile longer.
When she made her way back to the main bunker, Rebecca tucked the phone in the waist of her cargo pants. She made sure her t-shirt covered it just in time as Chase walked around the corner.
Rebecca startled and did a double take. “Chase, what are you doing?” He lurked by the opening to the sleeping quarters where the ladies slept. You couldn’t be too careful, especially during the end of times.
Chase stepped forward with a scowl. “Going to check on the kids; I heard the medicine is making some of their stomachs upset.”
“Oh.” Rebecca’s face fell as she thought of those poor children. All of them sick, because of her. Guilt ravaged her, but she pressed on. “Oh, well that’s too bad. I’ll be down to check on them soon as well. Maybe a few songs will help them get some rest.”
“If only it would be that easy,” Chase said and stepped away.
Rebecca watched him go with a heavy heart. Then she slinked into her quarters and stashed her secret phone inside the roll of her sleeping bag, where she kept her personal items, such as they were. So far, no one mistrusted her enough to go through her things, but Rebecca knew that day was probably coming.
But she had to put up with the charade awhile longer. They were almost to the finish line and the reward for winning the race was too mighty to pass up.
****
She hummed a song. She stroked their heads.
In the end, Rebecca let the kids rest and moved on to a little girl named, Kim. Her cheeks were splotchy as she drew shallow breaths.
Rebecca reached into her bucket, pulled out a damp cloth, and applied it to the little girl’s forehead. Kim moaned and her head moved to the side. She licked her chapped lips and slowly they parted, barely able to separate. “I’m thirsty.”
Her voice was so small, nearly mute. She was wallowing and soon would diminish.
“Coming right up, honey.” Rebecca turned her back to grab a bottle of water from her bucket of supplies. First, she took a vial from her pocket and put two drops of a blue liquid into the water. She shook it up and the blue dissolved into the water.
Rebecca placed a hand beneath Kim’s fever laden hair, drenched in sweat, and helped her sit up. She held the bottle to her lips. “Sip. C’mon, make it a big one. It’s going to make you feel so much better.”
She laid the girl back down, watching her rest. Kim’s eyes blinked slowly and her hands rested on her chest. Rebecca waited anxiously for improvement and as the girl fell back to sleep, she breathed normally again.
It might have been her imagination, but the girl’s cheeks turned back to their normal peach and Rebecca moved along. She grabbed her bucket of supplies and found the next little boy with splotchy, red cheeks.
He struggled for breath. His chest worked too hard up and down for each aching breath. Rebecca placed a hand on his chest and his eyes barely opened as they regarded her. “Did you put something in Missy’s water?”
Rebecca put the bottle of water down that she was about to give him. “Of course I didn’t, dear. I don’t have any medicine you haven’t already been given by Jake and Chase. They’re your saviors, not me.”
The boy’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “I saw you put something in their water.”
“Just try to rest. Give the medicine time to work.”
“Can I have some? Can I have some water?” His voice begged.
He begged, but Rebecca couldn’t have anyone more suspicious of her than they already where, so she ignored his question. She smiled and sang him a pretty song. “You’re my sunshine, my only sunshine . . .”
Chapter Three Jenna
New Haven 57
Jameson Residence
The world was burning.
And Jenna Morgan’s gelatin mold, refused to set.
She didn’t know what she had done wrong. The recipe, a classic, handed down from generation to generation, consisted of layered coleslaw, mayonnaise, and lime gelatin. Hers was always a hit at the party, thanks to the towering mold, that was only rivaled by the Empire State Building.
Not that she had ever seen the Empire State Building, except in pictures, but that was beside the point. Instead of a gorgeous, green mold, she had a puddle of gooey water with clumps of cabbage stuck in it.
She just didn’t understand it.
Hadn’t Jenna made this a dozen times?
Hadn’t she?
It was her mother’s recipe. Except . . . Jenna couldn’t remember the last time she saw her mother. Standing in her powder blue galley kitchen, she absently picked up a piece of wet coleslaw and chomped on it. In her mind, Jenna pictured her mom. They had the same shoulder length curls, but Jane Morgan’s face was weathered.
In her mind, Jane wore a beret and over her shoulder slung a—shotgun?
Jenna’s heart skipped a beat. Why, in the entire world, would she picture her mother like that? Her heart sped up and Jenna cradled her third trimester belly. It was full and round under her blue, polka dot dress. She tried to focus on that, the fact she was going to be a mom.
With a deep breath, Jenna tried to regulate her blood sugar, but her face went pale. Her arm glistened, a monster just beneath the surface.
The large necklace she wore around her neck wasn’t just for show. It beeped and the emblem on the front shone like a blue crystal jewel. A hum came from the back, where the device traveled up to her skull and burrowed deep beneath her flesh.
Jenna’s brain cooled as the chemicals rushed inside of her. With a moan, her eyes fluttered closed and a feeling of divine happiness followed. Warm. Happy. She swayed on her feet and every bad feeling Jenna had was wiped away.
Tension gone, she grinned and adjusted her earrings. Warm arms wrapped around her and hands rested on her swelling middle. Jenna put her hand on top of Jameson’s and her finger traced his wedding ring.
He inhaled
against her neck and his warm kisses tingled her skin. “What are you thinking about, gorgeous?”
“You.” Jenna’s fire engine, red lips spread in a wide smile.
Jameson spun her around. For a brief moment, her eyes took him in. He was dashing in his suit, but his tie was crooked. She adjusted it and repositioned the fedora on his head. Her fingers traced the collar of his shirt. It was flat against his chest, because he didn’t need to wear a harness. Not like her.
But why?
“Do I pass inspection now?” Jameson slurred his words as his lips met hers.
Jenna let herself go as much as she could, but something in the back of her mind wouldn’t let her. She kept thinking about that stinking gelatin mold.
His eyes followed her gaze and a guttural grunt came next. “It’s okay, baby. Not everything can turn out a masterpiece.”
She bit her lip. “Last night’s meatloaf, the burnt chicken before that . . .” Jenna shook her head and her curls swished side to side.
“We can check out the oven.”
He took her hands and Jenna didn’t fight it, even though deep inside her, something wanted to. She squeezed his fingers back instead. “I don’t think the oven had anything to do with the gelatin mold, Jameson.”
“So you had an off day.” A slight peck on the cheek was supposed to help her feel better, but instead Jenna’s stomach just rolled. “C’mon now, we’re going to be late for Suzanne’s party. And you know how much she hates tardiness.”
Jenna smiled and when Jameson offered a white sweater, she turned so he could help her put it on. Slowly, he did up her buttons, and adjusted the diamond broach above her breast. Watching him carefully, Jenna noticed how he held his breath as he eyed her.
“Something on your mind, Rick?” Jenna asked, a sweet smile growing on her face.
“Just how much I love you and our little nugget.” He caressed her middle and for a moment, they both stared down at it. Jenna’s heart swelled with love and it warmed her core.
The moment passed and she felt jittery again. “Well, we best get going to the party. I have a lot to apologize for.”
He pulled the door open for her and Jenna stepped outside on the porch. She took a deep breath, with her head tilted up to the sky. The sun shone over the blue horizon, a gust of wind warming her cheeks. Everything was perfect inside of New Haven 57, like it always was. Across the street, the sound of a squeaky wheel, as a kid road his ten-speed, probably heading downtown like he always did on a Saturday afternoon.
Everything was perfect.
Jameson slung his arm around her shoulder and they made their way toward the family sedan. Always the perfect gentlemen, he held the door open and helped her slide inside. By the time she adjusted her flowing skirt, and crossed her ankles, he was beside her, turning over the ignition.
Their eyes met and Jenna’s twinkled.
But for a brief moment, her skin crawled.
****
Everything was perfect.
For some reason, that same mantra played repeatedly in her head all through the barbecue party. Jenna should’ve been happy, smiling with her friends. The backyard was decorated with red and white balloons and coordinating striped tablecloths. There were pitchers full of lemonade, iced tea, and children ran by with squeals of laughter, hula-hoops in hand. Excitement colored their faces.
It was just as everything should be.
Jenna touched the edges of her harness collar, staring off in the distance at a neighboring home. She didn’t know why any more, than she knew why her gelatin mold refused to set. All she knew, something was wrong. It tickled in her belly like cat whiskers drawn against the corner of a doorway.
She tried to shake it, felt the hum of her harness doing whatever it did, but the feeling persisted.
“Here’s some sausage for you, babe.” Jameson offered her a red plate towering with food and a hearty helping of potato salad.
Jenna shook her head, her curls bouncing back and forth. “I’m not hungry.”
“I can’t stand for that.” He refused to take the plate back, his eyebrows arched. “C’mon. You need to eat for the baby and to keep up your strength.”
With a sigh, she took the plate and stabbed the sausage with her fork. She held it to her mouth and tore at the flesh with her teeth. Chomping on it, the savory juices awakened her senses. “Satisfied?”
“A little grossed out; but yeah.” Jameson’s hand rested on her shoulder and pulled her in for a squeeze. “What’s the matter with my sweet stuff today?”
Jenna didn’t know. She watched her friends in their poodle skirts and flowing dresses, walking through the backyard with her perfect heels and manicured fingers. They laughed, while their husbands weren’t far behind. Her shoulders rocked down into a quiver.
“I know what’s going on. You’re worried about tomorrow’s appointment.”
The appointment. The baby. Jenna lovingly held her belly, gazing down at the fabric jetting out from beneath her breasts. “I don’t know if that’s it, but I am dreading it. What if the doctor finds something wrong this time? There must be a reason why they want to keep seeing me.”
His eyes softened and he smoothed Jenna’s curls back, cradling her face in his hand. “He wants to make sure you’re both okay. It’s what is most important, but it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong.”
Rick pulled her in for a tender kiss. The world itself seemed to stop when she fell against him, safe in his strong arms. The wind slowed, the blades of grass twitched against her ankles, and even the bird chirps slowed in rhythmic harmony. Her mind spun and her lips curled in a playful smile.
“I guess everything’s all right. I just like to worry.”
“Do me a favor and stop,” Rick chuckled. “Go talk to your friends. I’ll be okay with myself for a while.”
“If you say so.” She couldn’t resist a smirk as she started away. Jenna threw a glance backwards at him. Rick’s eyes were no longer on her, but he was huddled with a group of men—probably discussing bowling or the latest football game.
All the men were in their best slacks—brown, black, or blue—and comfortable polo shirts with perfect-ironed collars. But they couldn’t hide the harness collars they wore, just like Jenna’s. Except for Rick, he didn’t have a collar. He never had to wear one.
Even though, everyone else did.
“Hey, you!”
Jenna jumped, pulling her hand away from her harness. Suzanne, a vibrant woman with brown hair pulled back in a stylish twist, was Jenna’s closest friend. They both squealed and hugged.
“Well, look at you. By the stars, you are getting close.” Suzanne smoothed Jenna’s skirt and felt her belly.
“And don’t I feel it!” Jenna laughed and swatted Suzanne’s hand away good-naturedly. “The baby keeps me up at all hours of the night. Kicking and punching me.”
“A little fighter, awe, how precious. Have they said? Boy or girl?”
“Girl.” Jenna beamed. “A baby girl. Isn’t that grand?”
“So grand!” Suzanne’s eyes widened and she clasped her hands over Jenna’s. “How did Rick take the news? Was he hoping for a son?”
Jenna shrugged, but her smile was so wide, her cheeks were besieged with dimples. “He says she’ll be like me and will light up his life. Besides, we want to try for another baby. Have the magical two.”
“Most people do, don’t they? If you could have two, then why not? I’m so happy for you, Sweetheart.”
“I’m going to head to the powder room, if you don’t mind.” Jenna squeezed Suzanne’s arm. “Save me some punch, would you?”
“Oh, of course, darling!”
Jenna headed up the steps to the porch. As she reached the sliding glass door, it squealed open and two children ran out. She recognized them as the Frizzling kids from a few blocks down. “Be careful!” Jenna scolded gently. “Where’s the fire, kids?”
The little girl did a full stop and pivoted on her heel. “We heard a scream
. And then some glass broke, Mrs. Jameson!”
Glass broke?
“I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned with. Just hurry along and I’ll look.” Jenna nodded to them, but inside, her heart pounded. Deep inside, she doubted what she said. A churning in her gut said there was trouble.
Jenna stepped inside the kitchen. The lights were dim. The buffet counters were covered in fancy platters in a multitude of pastel colors—blue, pink, yellow, and her favorite orange. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary.
With dainty fingers, she picked an olive off a tray and popped it in her mouth before hurrying along into the living room. Her heeled pumps met plush carpet and except for a stream of sunlight filtering through the trendy, venison blinds, there was nothing of note.
Kids, Jenna thought with a sigh, and placed her hand on the banister leading upstairs. Her skin quivered and she took a step up. “Hello? Is everything all right up there?”
There was nothing, but a gust of air from upstairs; that chilled her bones. Maybe a window was left open.
Jenna hurried up the stairs and turned the corner. Her foot crunched glass shards into the carpet. The second story hall window had been broken and on the floor, the fragments of a blue vase. Jenna’s eyes followed from the window to the taupe wall across the hall. A framed photo had been pierced and cracked.
Through the smiling face of Suzanne’s husband, Franklin, was a whole. Jenna’s finger traced it.
A bullet.
But that was crazy. Jenna had never seen a bullet before. How would she know what one looked like? Still, something happened here. It wasn’t safe.
Instead of running from the scene, she advanced. Now wasn’t that crazy? “Is anyone up here?” Jenna called and charged down the hall. She came to the closed bedroom door and leaned her back against the wall, but why was she doing it? Why was she so terrified?