Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2) (20 page)

Short and to the point. Okay. “Why did you bring my body here?”

“Hmm? Oh, I didn’t. Don’t know who authorized it, if you want to know. The boss called to let me know there’s been a mistake. Your appearance is a bit of a mystery.”

“Of course,” I say sarcastically. “Do you know why I can walk?”

“And you couldn’t? In any case, not my department. Time probably. I doubt it had anything to do with us. Regardless, I have to ask that you return to your case.”

“My case? You mean that fridge-thing?”

Tom chuckles. “Yes, your fridge-thing. You weren’t supposed to wake up. There’s a huge problem back at headquarters. Please return while we fix this issue.”

I clench my fists, my throat tightening. “No.”

“No? I really must insist. The cases are fueled by the occupant’s heart rate, so if you don’t return to yours, it will render your case useless. Pretty cool, hey?”

“You couldn’t use that technology for cars or something? Instead of wasting valuable resources?”

“Again, not my department. We’re technically saving the planet
and
its resources. We feed you cattle once a week via a drip. Well, supposed to, anyway. It doesn’t seem to be working out too well. We’ve found we have to feed you more often. It’s once a day, at this rate. We’re not saving that many resources at all. First, the epidemic failed, and now this. At least, we aren’t murdering anyone this time around. The dolls still get to live, don’t they? We’re just making the world smaller, cleaner. Plus, we make money on the side, which is the end game.”

“I don’t need to hear your villainous monologue justifying your actions. Look, I get it. I get what you’re trying to do. You’re going all Illumi-nutty on us. A very,
very
small part of me sympathizes and almost agrees with you. But you’re going about it the wrong way. You’re tearing families apart and taking away our rights. I chose to become a doll, but
these
people?”

Tom sighs, shakes his head, and reveals his other hand that has a hook in its place. With his flesh-and-blood hand, he whips a pistol from his back pocket. “See this hook? I used to be a police officer.”

I blink. “Why didn’t you get a normal prosthetic hand? You look like a pirate.”

“Because I don’t
want
to fit in. I
want
people to know what happened. I lost my blasted hand in a drug bust gone wrong. Not that any of them go right, not with the scum you deal with. Can you imagine a world without prisons, without criminals? We all deserve a peaceful life. To achieve that, we have to eliminate the troublemakers, the freeloaders.
Please
, don’t be a troublemaker, Ella.”

I duck when he shoots over my head, the bullet ricocheting off the case behind me.

Without giving him the opportunity to shoot at me again, I hurtle towards him, tackling him to the ground. There’s a loud crack when he lands on his coccyx, followed by several obscenities. I kick the gun away and totter through the aisles of cases.

“God
dammit
!” Tom shouts. “Hey, come on! Don’t leave an injured man like this!”

It’s a lot harder to run in this form. My breasts are huge and in the way. My tummy jiggles, my thighs wobble, and it doesn’t take long to run out of breath. I lock eyes on the door and burst out of the warehouse and into… the middle of a forest.

Owls hoot peacefully against the burbling of a nearby stream.

“Ooh, I just can’t catch a break!”

I continue through the forest, the colors bright, even in the night, the air fresh. As lovely as it is, I need civilization and I need it
now
. I need to… holy crap, I need to find Lisa. The pub! That fiend mentioned a pub! But what pub?

I fumble over my feet, my body stiff from the five-year hibernation stint. Add that to the fact my legs haven’t functioned for over half my life. My lungs sting and my heart thuds, like it’s forgotten how to work. Which it has.

The further I run, the more disoriented I become. There’s too much air rushing to my head, too much blood pumping through my veins. I don’t know if I can do this. How does anybody expect
me
, selfish, crippled, fat, old Ella to save this fractured world?

Well, I don’t
know
if it’s the
world
. It’s my town, which is basically my world. Maybe the abductions haven’t spread anywhere else.

“Shut up, Ella,” I hiss through pained gasps. “Stop talking to yourself.”

But talking about other things distracts me from my heart giving out.

I’m too exhausted to even appreciate the road up ahead. I jog to the edge, shielding my head when gunfire booms through the forest. A flock of birds scatter as Tom growls.

“Get back here!”

I don’t respond. I’m too busy struggling to see through the multitude of blacks dots.

Black dots? Ah, crap. I’m about to faint, aren’t I?

I used to faint a lot as a teenager. When I was dancing twenty hours a week, eating became a side note, so I’d often pass out from exhaustion. The moments preceding a faint is how I imagine ghostly possession. You’re aware of your body and surroundings, but you just don’t have control of your… well, anything.

I stumble into the road, fanning my face in a desperate attempt to maintain consciousness. I can’t see Tom, but his obscenities and boots crunching the forest floor come through loud and clear.

Through my foggy reality, I wonder how isolated the road really is. Could I wave someone down in time? Would I have the strength to take out Tom, what with his dodgy back? I could crush him easily enough with my thunder thighs.

“Help,” I croak. “God, I stopped believing in you a long time ago. But if you’re there, I take it all back!”

The bush rustles. Alas, it is only Tom. Staring at the barrel of the gun only validates my mortality. It also makes me angry, not frightened. I mean, how could such a tiny little bullet cause so much harm? Why aren’t we strong enough to withstand it? Why can’t we be like the doll I’ve lived in for thirty years?

“Ella, I told you my back hurts,” Tom says through gritted teeth. “I have no qualms about killing you. Especially since you made me run. I
hate
running.”

“So do I,” I say. “But I hate guns even more. Let’s talk about this, okay? Better yet, let’s blow this joint! Know any good cafes around?”

“Are you off your rocker, sweet cheeks? Don’t quip to a man holding a gun.”

I gulp, the black dots taking over my peripheral vision, until I’m tunneled in on Tom. The distant revving must be my imagination. In the middle of the night, there’s no way anybody would be in this back of nowhere.

Unless there really is a God.

Blinded by headlights, I wince when a truck—an actual truck!—screeches to a halt. A skinny ginger in tight jeans, with a beard sticking out from under a black hoodie, tumbles out, a scowl spread across his face.

“What’s going on here?” he grunts.

“That you, Max?” Tom squints in the dark. “This one escaped. Want to take her back in for me? My back is done in.”

Oh. So there isn’t a God.

“Please!” I raise my hands in the air. “Please, I got caught up in all of this. Just let me go.”

The skinny man darts his eyes from Tom to me, Tom to me. Calmly, he reaches for a pistol in his back pocket and aims at Tom.

“Max, whaddya doin’?” Tom shrieks.

“I’m not Max, you idiot,” the man says. “We don’t know each other.”

“Ha. Need to invest in glasses, then,” Tom mumbles. “Then who the bloody hell is it?”

“It’s Jerry.”

Tom groans. “You’re kidding. So this adds up now.
You’re
the one who snuck this fatty’s body into the warehouse. I wondered how she got there. Still taking orders from Lisa, eh? You’re a coward and a traitor, and you’re not leaving this time.” He redirects his aim and shoots. “Let’s see how you like that, you douche nozzle!”

It pings off the truck door, and I cover my ears. They just won’t stop ringing.

Jerry coolly inspects the dent and shakes his head. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Oh,
will
I?” Tom says. “You have
no
idea what you’ve just walked into. Wrong place, wrong time.”

Jerry glances at me. “Obviously not.”

“Ha, yeah, no. If you so much as even think about pulling that trigger, the corporation will be all over your sorry ass. They…
we
… don’t like meddlers.”

Jerry doesn’t respond. Instead, he inhales and shoots Tom in the leg. The bullet hits home, and Tom drops to the ground, grunting in pain. “You bastard!
Why
would you do
that
?!”

“Are you okay?” Jerry asks me, keeping the gun pointed at Tom. “Ready to see Lisa?”

I run towards the truck and motion for the man to follow. “I’m never ready to see Lisa,” I say as all my memories of her come flooding back. “But let’s get out of here.”

I scrunch my nose at the stale car smell, the old springs in the seats squeaking as we sway. I hate this truck. I’m up too high and feel like I’m looking down at the road, as if I’m a ghostly apparition floating along. Not to mention the sheer number of empty bottles rolling and clanging by my feet, barely audible over the roar of the engine.

“So…
you
brought me to that warehouse?”

Jerry nods complacently. “Me and a few others.”

“Why? Why take me there?” I fan my face, wishing he’d turn the heater off. “Couldn’t Lisa store me in her house or something?”

“We were going to, but the higher-ups are watching her like hawks. They know she’s out for revenge. So, the warehouse was it. This stuff isn’t exactly mainstream. Luckily, some of us are still on good terms with the company, so we snuck you in. Oh, and we put a pager on you so we’d know when you woke up.”

“Pager,” I say flatly. “Do I want to know where…?”

“Oh, your left hip.” He waves absentmindedly in the general direction of my pasty midsection. “Sorry, should’ve told you.”

I pull the corner of my shirt up to find a black circle stuck to my skin. I rip it off and drop it on the floor. “She went to all of this trouble for me? Umm… I guess I’m flattered. Altogether creeped out, but flattered.”

“All I know is she wants you to take the company down. If she does it herself, even successfully, she’ll be breaching her contract and go to prison. Not exactly a thriving environment for a young little thing like her, so you can understand why she’s trying to avoid it.”

“I do have an inkling, yes,” I say sarcastically. “So how far does this go? Is this all over America? Are the police in on it?”

“It’s predominately your hometown. The company needed a town-zero to trial it on, but it’s growing rapidly, feeding inefficiency or not. And no, not all police are in on it. Just the true believers, like old Tom. And the money-hungry crowd. As far as I’m concerned, I wouldn’t trust any of them. Who doesn’t love money, right?”

Me. I don’t love money. I didn’t take Lisa up on her offer and I never will. I just want my family safe.

Jerry’s eyes widen, his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. “So you’re Ella, right?”

I pause, slamming my head against the headrest, not in the mood for general chitchat. “Yep. Big, old, and larger than life.” My tone is too harsh, so I force a smile, feeling guilty for my rudeness. “And you’re Jerry? With a J? I have to get the spelling right for my autobiography.”

“That’s right.”

“Your name can’t
really
be Jerry.”

“What’s wrong with Jerry?”

“That guy back there was called Tom! And you
so
pulled a Jerry and beat his sorry butt!”

He laughs and slaps his hand on the steering wheel. “Yeah, he always was a jerk. Lunatic. Hey, Ella, you’re not like any woman in her fifties I’ve ever met. What’s the go with that? Lisa was a little fuzzy on your background.”

I stop to think for a moment. That’s right. I’m not a twelve-year-old anymore. Grimly, I stare down at my swollen ankles. “You’re referring to the way I speak? I lived as doll who thought she was a child. It’s a little messed up when I think about it. I can’t believe… Anyway, now all I want is my granddaughter to be safe and happy. It’s not about me anymore, it’s about her.”

“Preaching to the choir here, ma’am.” Ugh. Ma’am?
Ma’am
? I am
not
ready to deal with being a
ma’am
! “We’ll fix it, right? Lisa says you two will sort everything out.”

Picking at my overgrown fingernails, I shrug. “I wouldn’t count my chickens before they hatch. Lisa has a history of being wrong.”

“People change,” he says simply. I frown, unnerved by his gullibility. Sometimes I forget there are just as many good people as there are bad. If not more.

“I don’t have faith in her plan,” I say. “I don’t even know
what
her plan is. I don’t know if my family is okay and I just… I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Nobody knows nothing,” Jerry says sullenly. “We’re all improvising life. No one knows what’s up ahead. Just keep faithful, keep loving, and eventually, we’ll see the light.”

In silence, we keep our eyes on the road and the darkness ahead.