How To Recognize A Demon Has Become Your Friend (Necon Modern Horror Book 9) (9 page)

Can’t sleep, won’t sleep

clowns wait there

lingering in dreamy corners

with their painted faces

ravenous outlined mouths.

Red, blue, yellow swatches

sharp teeth turned into smiles

with tumbling tricks that dazzle

powerful bodies hidden

beneath polka dot bibs.

What will you say

what will you think

when you find my bones

after they swarm out of dreams

onto my sheet

and picnic on my soft meat?

“Did you hear that Taylor’s out?”
Sam asked as he started his warm-up on a stationary bicycle next to Roxanne.

“What happened?” Roxanne knew
what he was going to say but didn’t want to spend too much time talking since
she was at the end of a four minute interval of RPE (Rate of Perceived
Exertion) level nine on her bicycle. She had been using the Bruce Protocol
during overtime to build up her endurance.

Sam looked up and down at the
endless row of bikes; most empty since there was a treadmill class being
conducted that had become popular with the early morning crowd. “Taylor had to
cut out his exercise program because he came back from vacation with a back
injury.”

He glanced quickly at her thighs
bulging under the dark blue tights; she had the best glutes in the department.
He’d heard her bonus last year was significant.

It was clear in the beginning of
her career in accounting that she had to build on the natural strengths of her
legs if she was going to get anywhere in the accounting corporation.

“That’s a tough break for
Taylor,” Roxanne said. After Roxanne found out about Taylor through her own
contacts Roxanne re-designed her exercise program to put her in a good shape to
replace him. Her manager had already hinted that the corporation was going to
review Roxanne’s records to see if she was up for handling some of Taylor’s
bigger clients. This was her chance to show she was fit for the added
responsibilities.

“Yeah, especially a back injury,”
Sam said. “My sister had a herniated disk and she never recovered enough to
handle the same level of workout after it healed.”

“She has a career in the stock
market, right?” Roxanne asked.

“One of the top companies on Wall
Street. I’m telling you, we’ve got it easy in accounting. You should see what
their entry level exercises are like, don’t even try it unless you’ve got a
health age of 25 or less.”

Roxanne lowered her cycling level
to cool down. “Did your sister have insurance?”

“Absolutely, she has the best
disability coverage money can buy, which is a good thing because she’s probably
going to be on a desk job for a while. They think after surgery she may be able
to do step aerobics and a slow walk on the treadmill, definitely lower level
positions but her insurance will give her supplemental income.

“Grapevine says Taylor had
minimal insurance coverage.” He shook his head, “I guess he was taking a chance
on being under thirty. I bet he’s going to end up punching the clock from a
desk eight hours a day with no chance of advancement.”

Roxanne climbed off the bike.
“Bad planning on his part. Well, see you at the three o’clock status meeting in
the weight room.”

Sam watched her walk away. Her
back definition took his breath away; she had amazing deltoids and latissimus
dorsi. He wasn’t going to beat her statistics but she’d make a strong partner.
Maybe he should ask her out. He shook his head, why would she be interested in
him when she had the pick of the best bodies in the executive level.

 
She uploaded a summary of her Personal
Health Evaluation to her private account. Her aerobic level was at an all time
high, combined with her total cholesterol ratio and solid differential
percentages left no doubt in her mind that her career could only go up from
here.

We
are neither wooden chairs

nor
neon-lit apples

nor
raven tipped dream snakes.

We
are

rainbowed

running
creatures,

long-limbed

sometimes

short
winded

often
soft

often
hard,

love
at its best

at
its worst.

Extraordinary
mistakes

mistaken
genius

bottled

beaten

buffed.

We
are here

to
fly with the wind

howl
at the moon

rise
out of light, grey charred ashes

and
dance barefoot

on
our own graves.

Everybody knew those twin girls
raised themselves, because their mother was touched in the head and they did
have a different way of being. So in the end folks from the neighborhood
weren’t surprised when the aliens landed on their roof.

They weren’t like any kind of
twins anybody had known. I’ve never seen them together up close, only from a
block or two away. Soon as I got closer there was only one, like the other had
stepped behind and become a shadow.

Fact is, folks wondered if they
were twins, except for seeing one of them walk away, then the other one walk by
dressed differently. Whenever they were near I couldn’t help notice the
lavender scent filling the air. It lingered after they left. I felt so relaxed
I wanted to go to sleep. It had the same effect on most people.

There was talk among the older
folks of magic or demons. I never believed those girls were evil; far as I know
there’s not one thing anyone can say they’ve done to hurt anyone, other than
that unnatural calming effect when they were near.

Anyway no one can control people
talking and folks in the neighborhood loved to talk about them. The twins
didn’t talk much. They always smiled at me though, had the prettiest smiles,
white perfect teeth. Honestly now that I think about it, I can’t remember
anything important that I talked to them about. Must have been how’s the
weather, how’s your Mom, stuff like that, you know.

Nobody ever saw them go to
school. I’m guessing they were home-schooled because they seemed polite and
intelligent. Groceries were delivered every Monday. We’d only see their mom
peeking out the curtains of the house every now and then. That wasn’t any
different than before their mom’s parents died. Come to think of it, I’ve never
seen anyone go in the house after that so it’s a mystery how that girl got
pregnant in the first place.

I know you reporters can’t
imagine a whole neighborhood not causing a ruckus about them, but we’re mostly
live and let live here. Of course, now that the space ship is on their roof
everyone is asking questions. The government has the whole block cordoned off
and surrounded by all kinds of weapons. Scientists are trying to see what’s
happening in the house, but they can’t because there is some kind of force
field around it and the space ship. That’s about the biggest ruckus I’ve ever
seen up close and personal.

The only reason I’m here talking
to you is that they tested my DNA to prove I was human. I figure any alien
smart enough to figure out how to get to Earth in the first place could fake
out any test, but it’s just like the government to think they’re smarter.

I can’t tell you if those girls
are human or not. All I can say is they never did anything to hurt anybody.
Maybe they are from another planet or maybe their daddy was and maybe they
wanted to see how we do things here on Earth. Can’t see how that’s anything to
be afraid of.

But you reporters like to put out
news that gets everyone excited and scared. The government’s not much better. Maybe
if everyone just left them alone they would come out the house and talk to you.

Well, that’s all I’ve got to say.
I’m leaving town to go visit some relatives. You all look kind of sleepy. Maybe
all the excitement has tired you out. Why don’t you just close your eyes and
take a little nap? You’ll feel much better when you wake up.

Bending like
light,

fear circles my heart,

there are no
words

for the lost path.

They will eat my
dreams,

sleep in my shadow,

lick dharma from my breath,

there are no
words for the losing battle

between birth and death.

Those who would
dance

in the ashes of
my smile,

hide in the corners of my mind,

leave me crossing
my heart,

hoping not to die
this day.

If bending like
light is being alive

then I will live another day.

ANOMALY REPORT #27RC393

BEGIN DOCTOR’S OBSERVATION:

The doctor shifted in his leather
chair. He bit at a corner of his thumb nail, spread his palms on the dark
mahogany desk and looked at both sides of his hands before lowering them to his
lap. He looked up at the monitor, straightened when the green light came on.

“Computer, open Case 101B.”

“File opened, Doctor,” the
computer’s soft voice answered.

“Prepare for evaluation. Replay
the last interview with the patient.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

The screen showed a thin,
dark-skinned woman in a hospital gown, seated opposite the doctor. She pulled a
strand from her cloud of tangled hair with one hand, placed it in her palm,
pulled another hair out. After a few seconds she began to talk.

Did you ever wake up one morning
and feel everything was wrong? That’s how today started. I opened my eyes to
Ralphie sitting on my dresser, licking his paws. I woke to that grey striped
cat every day for seven years. Nothing strange about that. But today every move
he made seemed like a rerun of a movie. Every move I made was an echo. I felt
out of place. My oak bed, the beige walls, even my worn blue slippers felt
strange and familiar at the same time.

I shrugged it off as déjà vu. I
took my shower, gulped a cup of coffee and rushed out to the subway. Things
started falling apart as I left the subway station. Deep in the herd of workers
crowding onto the escalator to the street, I started noticing the people around
me.

There was a familiarity that
didn’t make sense. I tried to ignore the feeling. But the voices, the bumping
into bodies, felt like, well, you know how it is to bump into someone you know
well. There’s warmth, an acceptance. When you bump into a stranger you want to
move away.

I tried to shake the feeling. It
wouldn’t go away. The crowd got thicker. Their eyes bore into me. I knew them,
all of them. My heart pounded. I couldn’t get enough air. I had to get away, to
think. Try to understand what was happening.

I pushed through them. People
yelled, pushed back. An old man fell in front of me. I started to climb over
him. Others shoved me to the ground. Held me down. They yelled at me, asked me
questions. I started screaming. I didn’t want to hear the sameness in their
voices. I screamed and screamed.

The police came and put me in an
ambulance. They tied me down. Someone gave me a shot that made me sleep. I woke
up here.

We’ve never met, right?

But, I know you. Your voice, your
eyes. Like mirrors. Like theirs. Like mine. Everyone is me. I understand, now
that I’ve had time to rest and think about it. We’re all made from the same
kind of cell. Someone has taken one cell and made copies of people. See this
hair in my hand? Each hair could be used to make hundreds of me, of you. It’s like
something out of a science-fiction story. I don’t know why someone would do
this or why I suddenly realized it.

You think I’m crazy, but I don’t
care. I understand now. I know that everyone is me. In this city, maybe in the
whole world.

I can’t go on, now that I know.
Maybe you can help me forget. So things will be like they were. I just want to
forget. Please. Help me.

The patient buried her face in
her hands and broke into tears.

“Computer, end playback.” The
doctor wiped his sweating hands on his pants before crossing his arms and
leaning back in the chair.

The monitor changed to a
soothing, slowly changing fractal pattern. “Doctor, what is your opinion of
this case?” the computer asked.

“I-I think the patient has become
involved in a sudden delusional fantasy as a means of escape.”

“What is she trying to escape?”

The doctor picked up a glass of
water. His shaking hand caused ripples. He put the glass down. “I don’t know.
I-I mean I don’t have enough information about her life at this point.”

“Doctor, you seem upset. Has
something happened you would like to talk about?”

“No. I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep
well last night.”

“Perhaps you should go home and
rest, Doctor.”

“Yes, maybe you’re right.” The
doctor stood and left the room.

 
CONCLUDE DOCTOR’S OBSERVATION

 
LOG ENTRY ANOMALY REPORT #27RC393:

Confirmed spontaneous recognition
of Project Repeat by one subject in Sector 5760.

Recommend removal.

Consequent corruption of second
subject.

Recommend removal.

Detach both subjects from
template to analyze their design for errors.

Order replacements.