by Gayle Katz
“Thanks,” I say as I look back to the lab coat guy collapsed on the floor. “His chest still seems to be rising and falling. Help me tie him up. Make sure the straps are as tight as possible. We don’t want him getting loose.”
“Sure,” he replies. “Let me do it. You look like you need a minute.”
“No. There’s no time. C’mon. We have to go. Help me search this place. We have to find proof that they’re holding people against their will and experimenting on them. There’s an office a few doors down. At least, I thought I saw one. I’m not sure though. I haven’t been myself lately.”
“OK. You’re the boss.” Damar opens the door and peeks out. “It’s clear. Let’s go!” He grabs my hand and we leave.
Chapter 11
________________________________________
As we make our way down the hallway, something familiar catches the corner of my eye. I stop in my footsteps. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. “Look at that,” I say, grabbing onto Damar’s sleeve.
“Jane?” Damar whispers, as he turns around. “What are you doing? We have to keeping moving.”
My eyes are captivated by this odd sight. It’s people. Not just regular people, but people being grown, like in an artificial womb or in cocoons or something. And a few of them look like… me. Speechless, I can only point to them and get closer to the glass enveloping these bodies on display. As I press my face against the glass, I exhale and fog up the window. Damar stares through the glass, too.
“I need to get inside,” I say, pointing at the room and making a mark in the fogged-up glass. “I have to.”
“Maybe this will work?” Damar pulls out his ill-gotten keycard, walks toward the entrance, and swipes it on the keypad.
The door automatically opens with a loud hydraulic hiss and we enter. As I walk in, I notice Damar keeping an eye on the hallway, making sure that no one is following us. I’m immediately drawn to the first chamber. There, floating in some sort of clear liquid, is me. But whatever it is, it’s not me. Its eyes are closed and it looks exactly like me. Is this a joke? Unfortunately not. It’s a clone, I guess. Just curled up in the fetal position. Oddly enough, the clone seems like a carbon copy of me down to the last freckle. She’s a dead ringer, from what my naked eye can tell. She even has the same original zombie bite mark scar on her arm. I’ve never seen a clone close up before. I can’t help but stare.
Pulling my attention from the first clone, I walk over to another chamber and look inside. What I see is surprising and even more horrible, if that’s possible. It’s me again, well, partially me, merged with a zombie monster. “W-What’s going on here? Damar! Look at this!”
Damar walks over and his eyes widen. He continues to look around, trying to process everything happening here. “Oh my God.”
I walk over to the other cylindrical chambers. There are a few more clones of me and then I notice there are other people being grown here. There are so many, all lined up around the perimeter of the room. I can’t count them all. Most don’t seem fully-formed so even if I know the person being cloned, I might not recognize them, yet.
“H-How are they doing this? And what are they doing down here? How many people are they growing? How many of me do they need?“ I back away from the bodies floating in the liquid suspension as my mind races. I can’t quite process what’s happening. It’s one thing to be told that there’s a clone of you walking around. It’s another to actually see them being grown like carrots in front of you. “There’s the clone they placed with Jack, the handful of them down here, and me.” I start counting all of my clones on my fingers.
“Wait. So they let Jack go?”
“Yes. They let him go, yes.”
“That’s what you wanted. That’s good, right?”
“Yeah. It’s good. Only…”
“Only you’re not with him. But you’re saying he’s with one of your clones now? I don’t understand. Why would they still keep you when they already have your clones?”
“I don’t know, but it seems they never wanted Jack. It was just a scheme to get to me and my blood. They say they want to develop a better and more inclusive cure from my blood.”
“But why you?”
I can’t help but stare at the clones being grown in those massively oversized petri dishes.
“Jane? Is it because you were infected before?”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t believe them.”
“No, I don’t. And your intel confirms it. I don’t believe anyone anymore. How am I supposed to believe anything they say? They tricked me to get me here and were keeping me in a cage. Now Jack is running around with something pretending to be me and I’m stuck here! This is a nightmare. When will it end?”
“Keep it together, all right? I know it’s a lot to take in at once.”
“Who am I? Am I even Jane anymore?”
“What are you talking about?”
“For all I know, I could be one of them.”
“One of them?” Damar points to one of the clones. “Don’t be silly.”
“I might be one of the copies.”
Damar looks into my eyes. “You’re the original.”
“How do you know that? You don’t. Even Jack can’t tell. He’s with a copy right now. Or maybe he’s with the original Jane and I’m the clone. How would I know if I’m the original or the copy? How? These things are so perfect down to the last mark on my body. If I am the original as you say, then I have to destroy these things!” I start frantically searching the lab for something to smash the cylinders holding my clones.
“Jane, you gotta chill, OK?”
“Huh?” I look back at him.
“If you smash up the place right now, we’re never going to find out what’s really going on here. They’ll find us immediately and it won’t be pretty when they do. I know you don’t want that, right?”
“No. I guess not.”
“OK, then we have to stay under the radar.”
“Damar, my name is Jane.”
“I know.”
“My name is Jane.”
“That’s right. You’re Jane,” he repeats.
“We have to get rid of this place.”
“We will. After we get the information we need, we’ll come back and end this place, OK?”
“OK,” I say. “You said they use satellites for all communication and intelligence, right? And you knocked them out?”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder if sabotaging their equipment also impairs their connection to their clones.”
“It might, although… I’m not sure about all of the details.”
“If it’s true, then that may be the reason why my Jane clone is starting to having problems, but I could still view the video stream.”
“Different satellites may control different functions. We weren’t able to trash them all at once, only one at a time.”
“So it’s possible that the clones were feeling the effects while the video feed wasn’t disrupted yet. Maybe Jack has already realized she’s a clone. Maybe he’s on his way over to rescue me as we speak!”
“Maybe, but for now, let’s keep going, all right? We have to find out more information about what they’re doing here,” he says as he grabs my hand tight. “You have to keep it together,” he stresses as he holds me close.
“I will.”
“Good.” He smiles, pulling me out of the lab.
As he tugs me away, I slip my hand out of his and run toward one of the cloning units. Damar shouts after me. “Get back here! What are you doing?”
Ignoring him, I rush toward the pod with the fully formed Jane clone growing inside, flip open the control panel at the bottom of the unit, and push the large red button in the lower right corner. Soon, the liquid from inside starts draining and the pod opens with a cloud and a hiss of steam.
The clone opens her eyes and stands up tall, looking down at me and then at Damar. “What’s going on? Where’s Jack?”
/> I look at her, and then look back at Damar, who’s standing there speechless. I turn back to face the clone. “Not now. Jack needs our help. We’ll explain later. Right now, we have to go.”
Grabbing one of the lab coats hanging on the coat rack in the corner of the room, I wrap it around her.
Damar walks slowly toward us. From the look on his face, he’s trying to take in the two Janes standing in front of him. Regaining his composure, he pulls us both out of the lab, and we continue to explore the hallway.
We finally find an office, run inside, and lock the door behind us. As Damar rushes to search through the desk and drawers, I need to rest. All of the energy I felt before is leaving me. I’m exhausted. I’m spent. I’m out of breath. I lean against the wall, close my eyes, and slide down to the floor. The Jane clone is standing in front of the door looking around the office. I can hear Damar rustling through papers.
My hearing is going in and out and I’m having some trouble focusing. I look up and hear the Jane clone speaking.
“Jane! Can you hear me?” Damar asks.
“Yeah. I’m fine. I just need to… ummm… focus.”
“Forget this, all right? This is important, but we need to get you out of here. We need to get you help,” he states as he comes over to me and stoops down to my level. “You don’t look good at all. You need medicine, and you need it now.” He caresses my face.
“No. This is more urgent. You can’t abandon your mission because of me. You can’t. This is bigger than just me and you know it. Please. Keep searching. I’ll be OK.”
“I disagree. The mission can wait.”
“No it can’t!” I yell at him, half crying. “I-I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m staring at my twin and I-I don’t know what strain of the zombie mutation is circulating inside of me. I can feel myself slowly turning and there’s nothing I can do about it. We can’t let this happen to anybody else. And you can’t just focus on me when whatever we find here might have such far-reaching consequences.”
“Fine,” he says, as he stands back up and resumes his search for anything that may prove valuable.
After letting Damar cool down for a couple of minutes, I ask, “Find anything?”
“Not yet, but there’s a drawer here that’s locked. Let me see if I can pick it.”
“OK.”
There’s silence.
“Jane, are you still with me? Jane?”
“Yes.”
“Talk to me, all right? Stay awake.”
“Sure. Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything you want. Just stay conscious and keep talking.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry about what? How we left things?”
“Yes, that and…”
“And what?”
“And getting Samir killed.”
He doesn’t respond.
“The Rat turned on him just like he turned on me. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t.”
I hear him sigh.
“Damar?”
“Don’t worry about any of that,” he smiles reluctantly. Despite my weakened condition, I can tell that there’s sadness present in his voice. “Samir was always getting into trouble, trying to prove himself. I had a feeling he would get himself killed one day, but I didn’t realize it would be so soon. Don’t get me wrong, I miss him, but you’re not the one who killed him. These people you’re associating with and the Brotherhood did that. And he didn’t help himself by making deals with the Devil.”
“But none of that would have happened if I hadn’t come here, looking for Jack. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t know that. Samir could have still run into trouble with them. He was always trying people’s nerves and seeing how far he could push them.”
“I guess.”
“And if you didn’t come here, we would never have met.”
“You would have been better off. All I’ve brought you is heartache and misery.”
“You opened up to me. You reminded me what it feels like to be wanted again. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
“You’ve done so much for me and I’ve been such a burden.”
“You have enough to worry about, yes? You’re not a burden, and nothing that’s happened here is your fault. And again, even without you, Samir probably would have sealed his fate. He was reckless, constantly testing himself in dangerous situations. That’s just who he was.”
“And I’m sorry about us.”
“Us?” he chuckles. “As for ‘us,’ I get it. You were alone. I was there. And I know you were just trying to help Jack. You needed to focus on that. I was just a distraction.”
“No. You weren’t a distraction. Not at all. You were… are… kind and caring. And I’m sorry. For everything.”
“I don’t blame you for anything, Jane. Life happens and we each make our own choices. I made mine.”
“Yeah, but now everything’s changed. Jack is with something or someone who he thinks is me. She looks like me, sounds like me, and acts like me, but it’s not me,” I choke back my tears. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m losing my faith… in everything.”
“Bingo!”
“What?”
“Sorry, I just opened the locked drawer.”
“That’s good. We should hurry. I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be safe in here,” I grab a chair to help me get back on my feet. Once up, I stumble over to Damar at the desk. He’s rummaging through files. The clone runs over, trying to help, thinking I’m going to fall, I guess.
“You sure you’re OK?” She asks.
“Uhhh… I’ll be fine for now. Thanks. I’ve been through worse.”
“There are a ton of files in here,” Damar says.
I brush back my matted hair. “Lemme see them.”
“Sure. Here. Take a look at these,” he says as he hands me a stack of files. “Why don’t you take a seat here,” Damar pats the main chair behind the desk, “scan through the papers, and I’ll keep searching through the filing cabinets to see what else I can find.”
“Sure. Good idea.” My fingers grab the first folder from the drawer. It’s old and yellowed. The tab on it says: Prof. Ben Carter – Research Grant.
As I open the folder, I see a letter on Scrycor letterhead congratulating the Professor on being approved for a research grant to study and cure bone cancer. It goes into more detail, talking about how this cure will be a step forward for the world. And it’s signed by Scott Cameron Roberts, the Founder and CEO of Scrycor. There are also medical records for Roberts. Apparently, he was dying of bone cancer. He needed the cure for himself. That’s probably why he sponsored the research grant.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw next – my old medical records from when I was accepted into Scarlet Peak University. Digging deeper, I find more current information, such as that I’m married to Jack, our home address, phone numbers. “What the? I mumble to myself.
I put the folder aside for a moment and stare ahead. I haven’t thought about the Professor in forever. Geez. The zombie epidemic has been going on for way too long. I can’t believe it’s been almost ten years since the first outbreak. I pick the folder back up and something falls out. It’s a work badge. You know, one of those hard plastic placards you scan to gain access to a door or clock in. I pick it up and see Brie’s picture on it. I also notice it’s a Scrycor badge. She works for them, too?
Damar comes back with a little handheld tape recorder. “You might want to listen to this. It’s labeled ‘Professor’s Log’ and dated about a decade ago.” He hands it to me and I immediately push PLAY.
“January 31st: We’re close to a breakthrough, but cracking Jane’s DNA is proving more difficult and the reps from Scrycor keep pestering me. Damn! I tell them that tinkering with human DNA can’t be rushed, but they don’t listen. I’m going to stand my ground and make sure I secure the time I need. We need to do this slowly, methodically, and step-by-step.�
�
I hit stop on the recorder. He’s talking about me. Hearing his strong and commanding voice freaks me out and brings back so many memories from school. As his student, I was infatuated with him. His voice. His looks. His brain. What he turned into was such a tragedy. I sigh and press play again, anxious to hear what he was thinking.
“February 2nd: I believe we finally have the cure, but we still need to do more tests and perform clinical trials to ensure that we have a winner. Without proper testing, we could make things far worse for people.
“February 13th: The results of the clinical trials are promising. Now that we have a potential cure, they want to know how I developed it. I know that they gave me the research grant, but releasing genetic modification information might not be the right thing to do, especially since we haven’t had any human trials. I’m not sure I can give them what they want – at least, not yet.”
Genetic modifications? Is that what they’re doing here? I’d never heard him sound like this before. He’s worried. And rightfully so.
“February 22nd: Scott came to the clinic today. We started him on the treatment. He took to the cure well, at least the first dose, but now he wants more. With his new lease on life, he wants to live forever. He thinks all we have to do is splice a gene here and there. It’s not that easy, nor do we know what modifying other genes will do to a human body. I don’t think I can comply with his wishes. The grant was for the cure, and that’s what I believe we’ve developed.
“February 29th: Scott really wants my work. They’ve offered to triple my fee if I release my notes and research to them. I want the money, but I can’t accept it if it means my work may fall into the wrong hands. I’m going to decline their offer. I hope they don’t get too pissed off at me.
“March 1st: The meeting today didn’t go well at all. They definitely weren’t happy with my answer, but I already knew that was going to happen. What’s surprising is that they still want to fund the research. They want me to stay on the team and help them push forward. I’m a little suspicious about their motives, but as long as I still have control over what happens, it’s probably OK.