“Stay focused,” I said. “Has anything unusual happened to you over the past few days?” He shook his head. “How about in the past week?”
He turned up and scratched his head. “They had us take a test.”
I scrunched my brows. “What kind of test?”
“I don't know,” the boy said, shaking. He shifted his eyes around uncomfortably as he began stuttering.
“You'll see momma soon enough,” I promised him. He nodded. “It was a test on a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“I...I...don't know. It was just common stuff, you know? It was pretty easy. Momma always said I was real smart.”
A test? I remembered back to shortly before Anna's disappearance. She had taken some kind of test a few days before she went missing. I was so wrapped up in a case back then that I hadn't even thought much of it. Anna was smart, too.
I was never much for coincidences. This test they took could've had some connection to their disappearance. No, there had to be a connection! Most Commoner schools weren't big on tests. After all, those schools were just glorified daycare centers. Why would they be taking a test in the first place? I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I should've made the connection a year ago when my daughter went missing. I should've known. Figuring out more about this test and the circumstances behind it could've helped me find her. Back then, I was too emotional, too broken, and far too angry to think straight.
I remembered back to the first days after Anna went missing. I'd refused every case that had come before me. I didn't care about the money. All I wanted was to find my daughter, so I searched every inch of this city and got myself kicked out of a dozen places for ”causing a scene.” But now, my wounds had semi-healed. I was getting closer to finding her with every second, but I also knew that I wasn't done with that school. Not yet.
“I want to see momma,” he said, eyes welling up.
I nodded. I'd gotten all I could out of this kid. So, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed one of the spare pistols I had placed beneath the cupboard. I slid the pistol into my coat pocket, and we were off.
I drove the kid, street by street, avoiding any potential protesters out there. I passed by a park that had been littered with trash. A naked police officer was lay bloodied on the pavement. The word PIG had been carved crimson into his stomach, and his clothes smoldered beside him. Dozens of officers, armed in riot gear, patrolled the park and swung around their assault rifles. Dozens of Commoners knelt on the ground, their hands in the air.
A couple armored police vans drove in behind them. I heard sirens bleating in the distance. There was a time when such violence affected me and sickened me. Now, I felt nothing. These protests were just a part of everyday life. I'd come to accept that by now.
The kid glanced away, shaking. He was a Commoner, and he wasn't even used to violence, yet. I found that vaguely amusing. Gangs liked to start them out young. I'd heard stories about children as young as twelve being forced to commit murders for their gang's initiation. Many of the Commoner kids didn't have much of family life, so the gang became their family, with many gangs preying upon orphans. The lower districts were always flourishing with orphans.
I remembered back when Anna was first going to school. I'd heard about a gang called Lotus. She told us that this older teen, Travis, tried to convince her to join. She was so scared. The gang leader, Milo, even talked to her when she was at recess. I found his residence and murdered him, shooting him in cold blood. He deserved that, and nobody ever bothered my daughter until she disappeared.
I turned over to the kid who shook, softly crying to himself.
“Where do you live, kid?” I asked him.
“The next block over,” he said softly.
The kid proceeded to direct me to his apartment. I pulled beside the curb, and we stepped up into his apartment complex. We crossed up a set of stairs, and the whole time, he talked about how he wanted to see Momma again. I could sense this genuineness in his voice as he spoke. I almost felt bad for the kid, after all he'd been through. He didn't ask for this.
I knocked on the door to 51K. A frail, gray-haired woman answered the door. She stared at me with two big, bold eyes. Her right eye was a dark caramel brown, and her left eye was blue. The woman shook, as she took a step back. Then, she glanced down and smiled.
“Momma!” Jack called out. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her.
I couldn't help but feel almost jealous. If only I had gotten this sense of closure. It almost felt kind of good to see these two reunite.
“What did you do to him?” she asked, her eyes turning toward me. A frown formed across her wrinkled face.
“I saved his life,” I said. “There are some bad people out there that want him harmed. I don't know what they want from him, but that doesn't matter.” I pulled out the spare pistol and handed it to her. She stared down at it, mouth ajar. “If anyone comes to your place and tries to take your son away, shoot them. That thing's fully loaded. It ain't a toy.”
“O-okay,” she said.
“I assume you know how to use it,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding.
“Good. Just keep your son safe. He's a good kid, and don't send him to school. He won't be safe there, not until I'm finished with what I have to do.” With that, I left. I trusted that she'd use a mother's intuition to keep Jack safe at whatever cost. I walked forth, knowing that I was another step closer to finding my daughter.
Chapter 12
Isat in my sedan, staring ahead. The images of all those kidnapped children flashed in my mind. I thought about going back to the docks, where I could finally save them. I feared what fate might befall those children. I should have done more to protect them. After all, I was right there. I sighed, jammed the keys into the ignition and sped off. During my drive, I remembered back to six months after I'd lost my daughter. I’d thought of myself as a failure and a loser. A part of me had accepted that I'd never see her again. Still, I told myself I would find her, and I couldn't give up. Months passed, and I hadn't found her. Still, I just couldn't give up. I had to find her, but I was too much of a distraught wreck to find anything. I was a failure, so I would often find myself drinking. It helped take away the pain. Drinking, injecting, and casual sex. What I wouldn't do to get rid of this pain. The pain never really went away.
I drove back to the school and thought about where to go from here. I had to be rational, and I couldn't let my emotions control my actions. If I was to ever see my daughter again, I had to do this. I had to think with a clear head because I was going to find my daughter. That much, I knew. I had to come up with a plan. What was my next objective? Where was I going from here? This test that Jack told me about, I had to know who was soliciting it. I had to know who was participating in this and the mastermind behind it all. I had to find Anna.
I stepped out of my sedan and walked up to the school. Occasionally, I would reach out and cradle a hand around my revolver. It gave me a sense of comfort.
Dingy lights flickered above me. The green-painted school walls were chipped and peeling, sprayed with the occasional bout of vulgar graffiti. Lockers lined the halls. Many were crumpled and bent. Some had been ripped off the hinges. The floor was a tiled green and white, but some tiles had been removed revealing squares of clumped dirt.
The bitter smell of cigarette smoke permeated through the air, stinging my nostrils. Children laughed in a room nearby, giddy as if there wasn’t a worry in the world. They hadn't yet been exposed to the bitter ways of this world, but it was only a matter of time.
I walked through the school and slowly made my way up to the principal's office. He knew more than he was letting on before. I had to maintain composure. I was on his turf, not mine. I knew that I couldn't cause a scene, not like I did a year ago. I was sure he'd be fairly compliant. After all, I knew where he lived. If he wasn't agreeable now, I’d pay him another visit.
I stepped into his office, and his s
ecretary glanced up at me with a frown. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see the principal,” I told her.
“Oh, sure,” she said. “Let me see if he’s avail-” I walked past her, ignoring the woman.
I stepped into the man's office. He glanced up at me and jumped back, clutching his hand across his chest. He sure as shit wasn't expecting to see me. I could see it, fear buried in his quivering eyes. He was scared of me. Good. I needed to manipulate him into giving me more information. He would talk. I would make sure of it.
“Talk to me,” I said to him. I slammed the door shut behind me and walked up to his desk. My hands slammed down onto the mahogany. “Talk to me about those tests that you've been having the kids taking.”
“What tests?”
I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to me.
“Don't play goddamn stupid. Before his disappearance, Jack was forced to take a test. Why the hell would you waste time by making a bunch of Commoner kids take some test? They're just gonna work and die in the factories, anyway.”
“I d-don't know what you could be talking about.”
He stared at me with his right swollen, burned eye. The man kept wincing and fidgeting, but I only tightened my grip around his collar.
“Listen, asshole,” I said. “Answer my fucking question or I’ll make another goddamn house call.” He flinched. “And don’t even think about hiring assassins to come kill me.”
I'd become more aggressive than I intended, but my method was working. Vernon shook in that suit of his. He squirmed around like a dying pig.
I pushed him back, and he plopped down onto his seat, shaking.
“I don't know much about them. All I know is the governor's office gives us those tests. He makes all the second- year students take them. Then these men in suits retrieve the tests. Look, Quincy! This is all I know. Please, don't hurt me. Please! I don't know what's happening with any of this.”
I scratched my head. Why would the governor care about Commoner kids and have them take a test? Those Elites only ever cared about themselves. As long as the Commoners weren't rebelling, Mattis didn’t care about the Commoners at all.
I believed that Vernon didn't know much. He was near the bottom of the chain of command, anyway. The governor probably paid him a decent wage, so he didn't have to live in the slums. In return, Vernon looked the other way whenever the Elites were involved in something shady, like kidnapping innocent children.
I swear that if I weren't in a school, I would bash his skull in right now. I had no empathy for such scum.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked. “These tests?”
“Twenty-five years,” Vernon said as he glanced down at his desk. He sighed. “They've been taking the tests for twenty-five years now....at least, that's what I-I've been told.”
“Then what happens after the tests?”
Vernon hesitated for a moment. “After they take the tests...I give them to these men in black suits. I think they're Elites...I think....I-I don't know. Then, they tell me which kids are g-going to be taken. I...I...I've told you all I know. Please, Quincy. You need to leave. I don't know anything else.”
I believed him. There was just something in his tone and mannerisms. I believed he was being honest. Maybe, I'd finally broken him, or maybe he was just done playing games. Either way, I knew for sure that the Elites were responsible for these disappearances, but why?
I nodded my head and turned around.
“I'm done here,” I said. I left the office and exited the building.
I hopped back into my sedan and turned up the radio. What could the tests have to do with any of this?
There definitely had to be a pattern to the disappearances that much I knew. These kidnappings were certainly anything but random, but still, I wondered. Why did the Elites feel it necessary to kidnap Commoner children? After all, they could go ahead and genetically produce any type of child that they saw fit. I scrunched my head.
A sudden burst of guilt surged inside if me. For so long, I'd been their little bitch. I'd dealt with their dirty work, often killing people who were an inconvenience to their rule. I had done all of this without a second thought for so long. They'd been giving me the money I requested. I kept doing their dirty work.
I wondered if I was any better than Vernon. No, I told myself. I was better than Vernon. At least I wasn't engaged in a child abduction ring. I was better than Vernon. They were all corrupt adults, the scummiest piles of filth that this broken city could conjure up.
I drove off. I wondered what the Elites could want with the children, but I knew I would find out whatever way possible.
I returned to my apartment that evening and plopped down onto the couch. For a while, I thought about the day's events. I wondered about the test and the potential connection that existed between it and the Elites. Why would some of the Elites be behind this? Why would some Elites care about a bunch of Commoner kids? After all, they had the power to genetically engineer perfection.
I leaned back in my seat and thought for a few moments while sirens rang outside. I didn't think much of it but needed something to drown out the noise. Then I reached for the remote on the mahogany coffee table and turned on my television.
A voluptuous brunette reporter stood before a burning building. Her navy blue gown wrapped tightly around her elegant curves. I remembered the place that burned behind her. That was the whorehouse that I'd visited before. That was the place where Mona worked. I kind of hoped that it was okay. Yeah, it was just a robot, but it was better than most humans I knew. A majority of humans were scum only looking out for their self-interest. I'd seen that time after time. Then again, it was just a program. It was made to think a certain way, act a certain way. It was there so that someone could be pleasured by it. That was its only purpose.
“I'm standing here, before The Iron Goddess,” the reporter said. “Our reports indicate that several of the synthetic prostitutes staged an uprising here today. The owner of the brothel, Conroy, has not been found, and is presumed dead.” Images of twenty women popped onto the screen. “If you see any of the missing robots shown here or have information that could lead to their capture, call the police. They are dangerous to themselves and others.”
I glanced over to the right and saw a picture of Mona. It was behind this, huh? It surprised me more than it should. I recalled back to when it started going through an existential crisis. From my recollections, I'd heard of many synthetic beings who had suffered a similar problem. Most of the time, they had their data wiped and were rolled-back to their factory state.
I turned off the news and leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I sighed, walked over to the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of rum. I slurped down several shots as I thought about my next course of action. I couldn't just go after the Elites myself. I didn't even really know where to start, but taking another case from an Elite might help me. If I took another case from one of them, it'd give me a chance to get closer to them. It would give me a chance to do some extra investigating to figure out the exact people responsible. I stood up and pulled out my phone from a jacket pocket. I had spent enough time sitting around. If the Elites really were responsible for kidnapping my daughter, I would kill every last one of them. I would do anything to get my little girl back. I wouldn't be Mattis' bitch anymore. I didn't care what I had to do, but I would strangle every last one of them if I had to.
I called Marie Harper. After three rings, she picked up. “Quincy!” she proclaimed. “How are you?”
“Good,” I said as I stepped out onto the balcony. “You know, I'll help you with your issue. I know I said ‘no’ before, but that was a mistake.”
“That's great to hear,” she said. “We really need your help finding this traitor. Thanks again, Quincy, and I'm sure you'll do whatever it takes. Don’t worry. You will be well- compensated.”
I was sure she knew about the abductions. If I took this case from her,
then it would give me a chance to get close to the Elites. I would do my traditional mercenary routine and continue to search for her rogue employee. In the end, I would be doing this all to find the abducted children.
This was a perfect opportunity. I needed to grasp it.
“So, when can we meet to discuss this in person?”
“Can you come by my office first thing tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, you have my word.”
“Oh, thank you again. You don't know how much this means to me, sir. Thank you, Quincy. Thank you.”
We said our goodbyes, and I walked back to my couch. I thought about drinking some more rum, but I just wasn't feeling it. Instead, I watched television. Sometimes I'd just sit back, watching the cartoons that Anna used to watch. I'd almost imagine that she was here with me and I'd think. I would think about those days. I thought about her precious smile, her playful laugh, and then I felt this ache in my heart.
I would always tell myself not to think about her, but I always would. It was so hard not to think about her. She was everything to me. After my wife died, it was just the two of us, and we would do everything together. She would draw pictures of dinosaurs for me, and I'd hang them up on the wall. I still had those pictures.
I walked over to her room and stood in the door, holding back tears that I still had even after all these years. I told myself to “just get over her” and that I would never find her. I never could overcome her loss. Two sides of me raged on within my heart. One side told me that she was gone and there was nothing I could do about it. I just had to move on. The other side told me that she was out there somewhere and I had to find her. I couldn't give up.
I stepped into her room and walked over to her dresser which was painted white with pink swirls. Kneeling down, I opened the top part of the dresser and saw her clothes, which were still as neatly folded as they had ever been. I reached for a folder atop the clothes and glanced through it.
There were pictures upon pictures of cartoon dinosaurs that she had drawn. My girl really had talent. She was only six, but these drawings were so detailed, so innate that I couldn't believe it. I placed a finger onto the head of one of the dinosaurs and rubbed against it, feeling the soft crayon markings beneath my skin. A tear dropped onto the picture. I softly sobbed as I buried my whimpering face into my arm. Right now, I probably looked so pathetic and sad. I was a grown man who was crying at nothing.
Letting the World Burn Page 10