Six months passed since I last saw Hollister and found out about my mother being a part of the program. I searched everywhere I could for her. Then one day while visiting my father's grave she appeared. She looked beautiful. There was no sign of illness in her. I ran over to her and stopped four feet short. She had a gun aimed straight at my face.
“Not another step,” she said. She spoke with the cool, calculated tone of a professional killer. Gone was any form of love I had ever heard. “Now turn around.” I did. She must not have posed a serious threat because the program had not set my brain on fire.
“Mama, what are you doing?” I asked. I heard her take a step forward. Fire. I spun and caught the gun as it was coming down towards the back of my head. She kicked at my ribs and I grabbed her leg and brought my elbow down hard on her knee. It was like steel. She winced a bit and pulled herself free. “What's going on?”
“You’re supposed to be dead,” she said. She stood there staring at me as if I were a ghost. “Did you come to kill me? Did they brain wash you that much?”
“You were the one about to kill me!” I shouted. “You are the one supposed to be dead! Not me!” “They said you died during training,” she said. “That L.T killed you.” “L.T didn’t try and kill me,” I said. “They killed him. And dad.” She took a step back and
covered her eyes. When she removed them they were deep red. Shit. I pulled the gun Hollister gave me a while back and opened fire, hitting her three times in the chest. She stumbled back and began to shake. I took off. When I got behind a large tombstone I heard her explode. I saw movement in the trees a hundred yards away and began firing. The figure went down. I waited a few moments for reinforcements but none came. I walked past what was my mother and went to the figure. It was a young guy, no more than 20. He was holding his arm, chest, and neck. Blood was gushing from his neck and he looked terrified.
“Who was that?” I asked. “Who are you?” I kicked him in his wounded arm.
“That was your mother!” he gasped at me. Blood and spit shot from his mouth, landing on my shoe. I leaned in close and snatched his hand away from his throat. He tried to scream but couldn't. “It was a ‘Rubber Maid,’” he said. His skin was turning gray as I watched him begin to fade away. I slapped him away from death’s grip.
“Explain!” I shouted as I pressed the gun to his head.
“We can't clone men,” he said. “Only women. We don't know why. We have been watching you for a while now. Was supposed to kill you if the Rubber Maid failed. Bomb inside of her. A few memories. Something wrong. Something went wrong. Wrong memories downloaded. When she mentioned your “death” I knew something was off. Fuck. Am I dying?”
“Not yet,” I said as I grabbed him by the collar. “Where is The Corps?” He tried to smile. I slapped him hard across the face with my gun. His front teeth spilled down his chin.
“I'll die before I turn on my team,” he said. “Of course you will,” I replied before shooting him in the face and walking away.
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Veterans Day Page 9