Tether

by Jeremy Robinson

  But Reggie doesn’t know that, and when our eyes meet, I can see that she has assumed I’m being protective of her.

  And fine…yeah, I wouldn’t want Rain to kill her. As much as Reg needs us, we need her. I’d also like to think she might somehow redeem herself.

  Rain drives her heel into the second man’s stomach. As he pitches forward with an, “Oof!” she snatches the handgun from his hand, disassembles it with a quick jerk, and then tosses the pieces at the lead guard, striking him in the head.

  The whole thing takes just seconds. In the end, two men are on the floor, and the third is holding a hand to his bleeding forehead.

  Rain stands over the fallen men and raises her arms.

  “Can I please shoot them?” the lead guard asks, aiming at Rain.

  “What’s your name?” Reggie asks the man.

  “Burnett,” the man says.

  “Like Carol Burnett?” Reggie asks.

  “Brandon Burnett, and I don’t know who that is.”

  “Really?” Reggie asks, and gives her ear a tug the way Carol Burnett did at the end of every show.

  “That supposed to mean something?” Burnett says.

  Reggie rolls her eyes. “The man is a big brick. I know. But there’s nothing to be done about it.” She looks at the guard. “From now on, I’m calling you B.B.”

  I nearly laugh at the man’s scowl, but I’m distracted when Rain starts to flicker. We’re moving out of range.

  I’m about to ask how far we have to go. With our time, distance, speed, and position, I’m pretty sure Reggie would be able to figure out how fast the Riesegeists are moving and when they will arrive. But before I can speak, the plane shudders, as though struck.

  “The hell was that?” B.B. asks.

  My first instinct is that we’re being attacked by Dragonfish. If the ethereal monster caught a whiff of Rain as we passed, it could have pursued us into the air. But I know that’s not right, because Rain has gone dark. Whatever is affecting the plane is part of the real world, and with that in mind, there is only one possible explanation: Garcia.

  Is she trying to bring the whole plane down? I move to a window, looking at the land far below. At first glance, I think we’re shedding parts. A round, domed chunk of something falls away from the plane. Then a parachute emerges from the top.

  “An escape pod?” I whisper.

  Reggie looks out the window beside me. “Are you kidding me?”

  “You should be happy,” I say. “Bjorn’s going to make it.”

  For a moment, she looks relieved. Then a darkness overcomes her. “You don’t think that has a GPS tracker inside it?”

  “Let me guess,” I say, “You designed it?”

  She shakes her head. “Common sense. They’ll be caught on the ground.”

  “Reg, we’re friends, right?”

  She stares at me, either hiding her emotions or not having them.

  “And you care about Bjorn. You can’t hide that.”

  She doesn’t. Her eyes dampen.

  “There is more to life than scientific conquest, and now you know that there is more to death. If there is an afterlife, what we do in this life might matter. Really matter. Like, a lot. Your own science proves it. So maybe, instead of being an utter and total soulless asshole, you could acknowledge what your own science proves, and maybe—”

  “You want me to repent?” she says, growing angry. “Get on my knees and beg an all-powerful being for forgiveness?”

  “I don’t know, Reg!” I shout back. “I don’t know how it works! Maybe just try to be a good person.”

  “That’s what your wife did,” she says. “And look at where it got her.”

  I lean in close, my whispered anger warbling my voice. “If Morgan’s final act in this life was to sacrifice herself for someone else, then I’ve never been prouder of her. But you… What are you going to leave behind? A path of destruction, blood, and misery, not to mention a man who believes you want him dead. A man you used and discarded like—”

  “Stop!” Reggie shouts. Tears in her eyes spill onto her cheeks. She glares at me, shaking her head as she steps back, and then turns to B.B. “Give me your gun.”

  B.B. grins. “Finally.” He hands the gun to Reggie, who then fires it six times.

  37

  “What the hell?” I say, standing frozen, as though under Medusa’s control. My voice raises an octave. “What. The. Hell?!” And then a whisper. “Whathehell…”

  The three guards lie dead on the floor, each of them shot twice by Reggie. While she clearly had no real experience firing a weapon, the close range guaranteed that the defenseless guards stood no chance. B.B. went first, the poor lug. Two rounds to the chest. Then she dropped the other two before they could get to their feet.

  And now I’m torn. On one hand, Reggie might have saved us. On the other hand, she was ruthless about it. B.B. was an asshole. A killer. But the look of abject fear in his eyes…when Reggie turned the gun on him. It was like looking at a little girl whose favorite doll had been dropped in a shredder. All of his machismo wiped away with the realization that he would soon be called to account for his shitty life. I suppose he had it coming…like the assassin I shot earlier, but B.B. was unarmed, and the other two guards incapacitated. I want to trust that she’s with us again, but I feel even more like my long-time friend is a stranger. Or…she knows that every man left alive will be another hunting us down in the near future. A fragile justification, but I suppose it makes sense, especially given the stakes—which are far grander than just our own lives.

  “Oh, don’t look so torn,” Reggie says. “It could have been worse.”

  “You shot him in the chest,” I point out. “Twice.”

  “Well….he…he could have been licked to death by elderly cows,” she says.

  “What? Just…what?”

  “That would be worse. Forget it. Here,” Reggie says, placing the gun on the conference table and sliding it to Rain, who catches it and turns it on Reggie.

  The cockpit door opens. A pilot steps out. “What is—”

  The man freezes for a moment, wide eyes on Rain, then he ducks back inside the cockpit and locks the door behind him.

  Reggie relaxes. “That was close.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, nearly shouting, stomach churning at the growing scent of death filling the cabin.

  Reggie motions to Rain. “They’ll think she killed the guards.”

  “Why is that a good thing?!”

  “Because,” Rain says, “They’ll believe she’s still with SpecTek.”

  “But she is with them,” I point out and turn to Reg. “You deceived me. Lied to me about Morgan. About your involvement. You led them to us in Salem. You took us on their plane, and now we’re here because of you.”

  “All true, but—”

  “But what? You think there is anything you can say to justify all of this, not to mention the three lives you just took?”

  “What’s three more lives added to the weight of the thousands I’m already responsible for?” She’s heavy with remorse. “At least these three deserved it. Unlike all the other people’s lives I’m responsible for ending.”

  “What…what are you talking about?”

  “Morgan might have pushed the metaphorical button—the process is more complicated than that—but I’m the one who told her how.” Reggie takes a seat. “She called me that night. Before she called you. She was distraught.” She looks to Rain. “Over you.”

  Rain sits down opposite Reggie, and I am compelled to join them at the table though I mostly feel like pacing like a frantic meerkat. “Why?”

  I know what’s coming. Know the truth about Rain. And part of me wants to keep the truth from her, to spare her from that pain, but it wouldn’t be right. I squeeze my fists and wait for it.

  “You have a daughter,” Reggie says. “They were going to use her to control you, after…you know…”

  “I became a g
host-monster,” Rain says, not a trace of emotion in her voice.

  “A Riesegeist,” Reggie says.

  “Giant ghost,” I mumble. “That’s what it means.”

  “You knew this,” Rain says to me. It’s subtle, but I hear an accusation in her voice.

  “For the last ten minutes,” I blurt out. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you.”

  “But you wouldn’t have,” she says. “You didn’t want her to say it now.” Rain is impossible to read. She could be angry, or indifferent, or broken-hearted. “Why?”

  “Because I knew it would hurt,” I say.

  “You have been fighting to learn the painful truth about your wife’s death,” she says. “How would you feel if I denied you the truth?”

  I stare at the table for a moment, aware that the plane is descending at a noticeable angle. We don’t have much time. We need to come up with a plan. But that’s not going to happen until we reestablish trust, or at least come to an understanding. “Angry. But…I would forgive you.”

  “Good,” she says. “Because we’ve all been lying.”

  Reggie and I both sit up a little straighter.

  Rain leans forward, elbows on the table, staring directly at Reggie. “I know who I am.”

  The pair stares at each other for a moment. Then Reggie says, “No, you don’t. You’re testing me. Seeing if I’ll flinch and somehow reveal that I’m untrustworthy.”

  I’m about to say, ‘You are untrustworthy,’ when Rain drops a truth nugget she shouldn’t know.

  “The sixth person in the lab that night was my daughter.”

  I look from Rain to Reggie and back again. The stalemate lasts just three seconds. Then Reggie cracks.

  “We never intended…”

  My horror explodes as a shout. “You turned a little girl into one of those things?!”

  Reggie punches the table. “We tried to save you!” She looks at Rain. “Both of you! You didn’t try hard enough. Or soon enough! We did what we could! God damnit!” Reggie takes the laptop from the conference table and hurls it against the wall. She punches the table hard enough to hurt her own hand. The sting settles her back into her seat. After a moment of staring at the table, she says, “I’m sorry. Truly. Had I known…”

  “I believe you,” Rain says.

  “You do?” Reggie and I say in unison.

  Rain sits back in her chair. Ejects the gun’s magazine. Glances at the remaining bullets. Slaps it back in. “Since we’re being honest now, I don’t really remember who I am.”

  “I knew it,” Reggie says.

  “But your daughter…” I say.

  “I remember that night,” Rain says. “Some of it. How I felt. Who I feared for. I remember having a daughter. I don’t remember her name. I remember your wife. Her kindness.” She smiles a little. “I remember you. On the phone. Your small, scared face. I remember thinking my life was a waste, because no one loved me the way you loved her.”

  “Thanks…” I say. It’s all I can manage. My fears about my wife being secretly sinister have started to abate, which is a huge relief. I’m still disappointed in the choices she made leading up to that point, but in the end, she at least attempted to do the right thing. And now, it seems, so is Reggie.

  “So,” I say to Reg. “The whole truth, and nothing but… Why? The wild goose chase. The deception. The manipulation.”

  Reggie digs into her pocket and digs out something pill-sized and metallic. She places it on the table, rolling it to me. I catch it and look it over. It’s mostly featureless, but speckled in red that rubs off.

  “That’s blood,” she says, and I quickly wipe off my fingers. “My blood, to be specific.” She unfurls the scarf around her neck, revealing a bloodied bandage. “It was in my neck.”

  “You took it out,” I realize aloud. “When you went to the bathroom earlier. What is it?”

  “Transmitter. Transponder. Vitality monitor. Among other things.”

  I can tell by the trace of pride in her voice that it was her design. I don’t bother asking about it.

  “Why didn’t you destroy it?” Rain asks.

  “It’s activated by body heat. The moment I plucked it out, the transmission ended. Just get to it already. You’re almost out of time. Fine. Look, the reason I kept this in, and kept you in the dark is…simple, but complicated.”

  “Makes total sense,” I joke.

  “I knew they were listening. And they knew I knew they were listening.”

  “Uh…huh…”

  “By playing ignorant to you, they understood I was still working for them, even though it wasn’t true. They also understood that I believed you and Rain would eventually help us understand what had happened.”

  “But you know what happened,” I say. “You helped cause it.”

  “I didn’t know the pulse would affect other people in the lab. I didn’t know the whole place would explode. I didn’t know Riesegeists would start destroying cities. And, I didn’t know that Rain or you—you weren’t even supposed to be there—would gain the ability to detect and communicate with the dead, or your wife would turn into…”

  “Wisp,” I say. “Just call her Wisp.”

  “I didn’t have answers, and I needed to find them, while keeping your dumb ass alive. You saw what they would do to protect the project. What they’ll still do… Get back to it. Right. Without the ruse, you’d have been killed and we wouldn’t have had the resources we needed to chase down answers, which all of us still want… Agreed?”

  A moment passes, and then I say. “Fine.”

  “Agreed,” Rain says.

  “So,” I say. “What’s the plan?”

  Rain chambers a round in the gun and then lifts her chin toward Reggie’s bandaged neck. “How’s that patched together?”

  “Tape,” Reggie says, growing worried. “Why?”

  Rain offers the kind of toothy grin that a killer might flash a victim, just before plunging a blade into their chest. “We need to make this look real.”

  38

  “Put your weapons down!” I shout, “Or Doctor Spock here is going to get it!”

  “Doctor Spock?” Reggie grumbles under her breath.

  “I was trying to be insulting,” I whisper.

  “That’s a compliment,” she says.

  “Move!” Rain says, giving Reggie a shove from behind, nearly knocking her down the stairs against the plane’s side.

  Below us, four SUVs form a semi-circle. Men in suits, weapons drawn, look down their sights. They waver like specters, distorted by the late-day heat rising from the sun-blazed pavement of the Austin–Bergstrom International Airport.

  If just one of these guys flinches, we’re all dead. Our only chance of survival is not just Reggie’s worth, but also mine and Rain’s.

  They want us alive.

  That gives us an edge…though their bevy of bullets levels the playing field. For all I know, each one of these men is a marksman capable of shooting out our legs. I suppose that’s why we’re holding Reggie hostage. If they shoot, Rain shoots.

  So, really, our grand plan depends on Reggie’s worth.

  And that is a total unknown.

  What I do know is that Rain and Reggie are doing a better job selling our faux threat than I am. Rain has the practiced look of a killer who’s not to be underestimated. And I think that means she’s just acting like herself, or the self she was before her memory was erased.

  And Reggie…she doesn’t really need to act. Rain tore open the incision on Reggie’s neck. As a result, she’s covered in blood. Rain also has one of Reggie’s arms twisted behind her back, and every now and then applies enough pressure to make Reg cry out in pain. Even I’m wondering if she still sees Reggie as the enemy.

  The suits hold their ground, but don’t lower their weapons. Dozens of guns track our progress toward the tarmac.

  “They aren’t backing down,” I whisper.

  “They’re not shooting us, either,” Rain says, hiding behi
nd Reggie’s head.

  Before I can ask or guess at our next step, the back door of the closest SUV opens. A man in an impeccable light blue suit slides out. His styled white hair nearly matches his pale skin. He carries himself with the confidence and strut of a man in his prime, but the wrinkles on his face suggest he’s in his sixties, if not his seventies.

  He approaches with a steady, calm gait. Absolutely fearless.

  When Rain adjusts her aim from Reggie to the man, he comes to a casual stop, grinning at the gun, like it’s loaded with water, rather than bullets.

  To say I’m unnerved by the man is an understatement.

  And it only gets worse when he takes off his sunglasses and stares us down through light blue eyes that match his suit.

  He’s like a White Walker from Game of Thrones, I think. Cold-hearted, ancient, and quite possibly one step ahead. Or, at least, that’s what he wants us to think.

  Rain doesn’t miss a beat. “We’re taking a vehicle.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Stephanie.”

  A moment of stunned silence lingers.

  Stephanie? Rain’s real name is Stephanie? It doesn’t seem possible that at some point in her life, some loved one or friend called this living weapon, now imbued with supernatural ability, something like ‘Steph.’

  “Not anymore,” Rain says.

  “That’s right. You go by ‘Rain’ now.” He grins. “It’s fitting I suppose, if not creative. You do know what it stands for, don’t you?”

  She doesn’t. And I can see that gives the man some kind of perverse pleasure, like he’s superior, simply for knowing more.

  “Riesegeist Assault Initiative,” I blurt out, defiant on Rain’s behalf.

  The man’s dead eyes flick toward me and I nearly yelp.

  “Mr. Signalman, your wife was valued. Do not suppose to share in—”

  “Eat a dick,” I say.

  Reggie nearly laughs, but Rain cuts it short by twisting her arm and drawing a wince of pain.

  The man glares at me, trying to intimidate me with his soulless eyes.