The Repossession (29 page)

She
should be the one wearing protective gear. She regarded them all carefully. Six people to watch her die.

Any one of them could have been her neighbour in Spurlake. Maybe they told themselves that they weren’t killing kids. That had to be it. No one really died if they were left on some server. That would help them believe

they were doing science and not just playing God.

What if she just exploded? At least that would be inconvenient and they’d have to scrape her off the walls.

If I’m going to die, God, at least make it horrible and messy, like that boy before, make it so gross they feel sick.

It’s the least you can do.

Five seconds
.

What kind of people knowingly experimented with kids, who would die each time they flipped that switch?

How did they live with themselves? Maybe they didn’t sleep well; maybe they fooled themselves and told each other they were creating ‘souls’, just like Reverend Schneider. She wondered where the Reverend was and why he wasn’t there gloating. And that was when she started smiling.

Three seconds
.

Soon she would be with friends. Denis and Renée, nervous Julia, silent Cary, all the people she’d met at the farm. Her eyes began to flutter, she felt herself changing, getting lighter. She opened her eyes, it seemed to her, but it was surely impossible, she was disintegrating, her flesh turning to millions of grains of sand, all just flying away.

Two seconds
.

Please God, let me be with friends and not in limbo or trapped in a machine. Please send Reverend Schneider to

a special hell when he dies. At least promise me that. It’s all I ask.

One second
.

The noise was suddenly terrific. The technicians were frantically trying to stop the transmission, arguing amongst themselves, pointing to smoke rising around her and then, as if by magic, there was total silence and everything around her completely disappeared. She was nothing, nowhere and utterly free.

I have vanished
, was her last thought.

Reverend Schneider stared at the transmission platform.

Slowly a little smile crept across his face. He knew. He didn’t need telling.

‘We lost her,’ one of the technicians called out over the intercom. ‘They’ve got a fire down in the transmission room and it occurred at the critical moment.’

‘This is getting to be a habit,’ he complained loudly, faking his anger well. ‘I can’t believe you people, I bring you willing volunteers and you mess up every time.

It’s an utter disgrace. She was a perfect specimen. A fire did you say?’

No one wanted to look at him. This was transmission eighty-six. Thirty-ninth human volunteer and it was as if there had been no progress at all. She didn’t even come

through for a millisecond. It was a total failure.

A senior scientist explained. ‘There was a glitch.

Synchro dropped the signal in the last second. She left the Fortress but . . .’

‘You sure she’s gone?’ Reverend Schneider queried.

‘One hundred per cent disassembly of all DNA took place at 3.16 a.m, Reverend. She was totally deconstructed, we had the power drop out, all data was lost. I’m sorry.

Truly sorry, sir.’

Reverend Schneider shook his head and did his best to look downcast.

‘We didn’t even save her soul.’

Reverend Schneider walked out of the observation area without another word. Genie Magee was gone forever.

Amen to that. In the elevator he realized he no longer felt tired. In fact breakfast, that’s what he needed. A good hearty breakfast. Someone had to celebrate the departure of Genie Magee.

Inside the Fortress, alarms were sounding, red flashing lights screamed for attention on every wall. Space-suited fire suppression teams were running in panic in every direction. There was shouting and confusion everywhere.

Rian crawled out of the pool and ran into the forest. He

made his way back down towards the stream. He knew he had to wash urgently, whatever he was covered in was disgusting and made his eyes itch and skin crawl.

The clear water felt good. He found a deep mountain pool upstream from the buildings and washed himself, drank and rinsed out his mouth and ears, trying to clear out whatever poison he’d swallowed. He tried not to think about his failure. He had to get out of here, back to his truck undiscovered. They’d know someone was out here.

The woman would have alerted them.

He followed the downstream path, nervous it would go past the Fortress again, but there was little choice. At the point where he’d climbed into the Fortress he saw the woman was still lying there where she had fallen. She hadn’t raised the alarm. Had he injured her? Now he felt guilt rising. Nervously, he approached her lifeless form.

She was lying awkwardly in the water. Surely she must have drowned.

Rian crept close. She was lying on her back in the water, still breathing. She was unconscious but alive. Rian moved away. Someone would soon realize she was missing and go looking for her. He had to keep himself safe. He felt guilty for leaving her there, but then again, had she ever felt any remorse for the kids who’d died?

Going back down the waterfall was twice as hard as

climbing up. He couldn’t find a grip and slid the last six metres, jarring his legs in the rocky stream bed. He had to press on, grit his teeth, ignore the pain and crawl through the contaminated water. Twenty minutes later he made it back to the truck.

Cautious now, dripping wet, he was lying on the grass just below the road surface by the truck and saw a tiny flashing red diode under the driver’s side of the vehicle. That most definitely hadn’t been there before. He’d had a visitor. Sheer luck he’d seen the blinking light.

Clearly someone wanted to track him. Damn. It was his fault for leaving the truck out in the open. He hadn’t even tried to hide it. Just wasn’t thinking straight at all. He looked down the road. There didn’t seem to be anyone moving or watching and he figured even if there was a CCTV camera out here it couldn’t pick out much in this light. He slithered towards the truck, rolled underneath, now saw there were two tiny trackers secreted under there. He prised them off and pocketed them. He’d stop a distance away and leave them on another vehicle. Perhaps find a quiet spot and check everywhere to see if there were any others. He rolled back out, jumped into the cab, grabbed the key and got out of there before anyone could stop him.

Only now did he notice the colour of his hands and face. He was blue. His skin was
blue
. No wonder all the trees and plant life were dying around here. What was in that water?

He felt ashamed and guilty. He was driving away from the Fortress without Genie. He’d achieved absolutely nothing. Now she was gone forever. What the heck did he think he could have done anyway? In the movies they always find a way to save the girl. Always.

He drove away, totally numb.

By five a.m. Rian was back at the farm at last, utterly exhausted, filled with despair. The house was still a mess; he couldn’t think about that now or much care. He stumbled into the kitchen, managed to grab a glass of water and then staggered up the stairs to bed. He just flopped across it and buried his head into the pillows.

Everything smelled of Genie. She was everywhere around him and nowhere at all. He felt tears welling. He felt so guilty, so utterly useless.

‘Genie!’ he cried out. ‘Genie.’

And then somehow he fell asleep, unconscious to the world.

He woke at first light. It was uncannily still. No wind, no birds chirping, no sound at all. He rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. Then he remembered that Genie would be gone by now. How was he ever going to get used to that? One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to forget or forgive. Somehow he had to find a way to destroy Reverend Schneider and his evil influence in Spurlake. He wouldn’t be able to do it on his own, he’d need to persuade others and prove the reverend’s part in all the missing kids. He had no idea how he was going to do that, but he was resolved to try.

He showered. Astonished at the blue stains on his hands and face. It wasn’t coming off either. His neck was sore, red raw from the burns in the ventilator shaft. Proof he’d tried something, even if it was a failure. No consolation for Genie though. She’d never know he tried, always know he failed though.

Downstairs he made tea – surveying the mess in the kitchen. The Quaker chairs overturned and smashed,

broken cups and plates everywhere; they’d trashed the place. He decided that this was a good place to start. He’d made a promise to fix Marshall’s home up and he’d keep his word. Anything to try and stop thinking about Genie. The only problem being that everything made him think about her.

He had electricity, water, a stock of food; he ruled out eating the frozen stuff as it would have defrosted and refrozen at least once, but there was enough dried food to live on for weeks if he had to. He did wonder if the Fortress people would come looking for him. He’d put the trackers on to a truck heading to Alberta. With luck they’d follow that for a while. He was hoping that now they had Genie, perhaps they’d leave him alone. He’d listen out for strangers arriving though. He had to be ready to run at a moment’s notice.

At eleven Rian took a break in the morning sunshine.

He enjoyed the heat of the sun on his face and the sound of the trees creaking in the smallest of breezes. His heart was heavy and he tried to tell himself that Genie wouldn’t want him to fall apart, but falling apart was exactly what he felt like doing.

He moved some stuff from a chair on the stoop and a scruffy notebook fell to the floor. He picked it up, immediately recognizing Genie’s handwriting on the

cover. It was filled with sketches of the farm and Moucher. Wonderful sketches he had never known she’d done. They were so lifelike he couldn’t believe she hadn’t shown them to him. He felt a little cheated. There were pages of him sleeping when he was sick; she must have sat with him for hours and he’d never known that either.

There was a sketch of Denis and Renée and Marshall with the pig and Marshall adjusting his leg. He was stunned they were so accurate, the light and shade and expressions on faces were so damn real. Never once had she mentioned these or talked about them and now he felt sick. To think someone with so much talent was gone forever. His Genie was an artist – a brilliant artist – and she was dead for some stupid crazy experiment that wasn’t ever going to work or be good for anyone. A loose page fell to the ground with her writing on it. He snatched it up, he hardly dared read it.

Genie Tulane-Magee at

Mrs and Mrs Tulane-Magee will be happy to invite you over for Thanksgiving supper at our perfect, safe, beautiful studio in Kits. Come and see Rian’s latest designs for eco-living. Your home can save the planet too!

Meet Alexandro our perfect son who is destined for great things – I just know it.

Come and buy my latest illustrations or see them in Alexandro’s Potty Adventure, my latest book for kids. (Note to self: Must improve my skills in drawing hands and feet. Why are toes so hard to do?)

Meet all my new friends and play with our latest puppy . . .

Rian stared at Genie’s sketch of himself with the puppy and choked up. She’d even named the kid they would now never have; there was even a tiny illustration of a little boy sitting on a flying potty. Rian realized his eyes were wet and a splash landed on the paper, smudging the ink. He quickly shut the notebook, clutched it to his chest, sinking to his knees and silently sobbed. He’d never known she’d planned so much, never even asked, and now she’d never have any future at all.

He was unable to stop the flow of tears, his throat felt constricted and he was feeling nauseous. He wanted to throw something, smash something. His heart felt like a lump of lead. Everything was ruined – her life, his.

‘Genie,’ he said softly, sending her name out on the breeze. ‘I love you Genie, I’ll always love you.’

*

He stayed on his knees for an hour, unable to do anything.

The notebook seemed to have paralyzed him. Why did she keep it secret? He so wanted that house, that child, that future. It had been snatched away from him by an evil, evil man.