Emergence (12 page)

“Stand up, you bloody swine,” Lucy called out. “We know you’re still there.”

He did. Only he had a gun, too. He blindly fired four shots at Vlad and Lucy, then dove out of the living room into the hallway that led to the bedrooms and front door.

Fiery hot pain shot through Vlad’s arm. He looked down, surprised to see his gray shirt turn wet with blood. Lucy disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later he heard another two shots, a louder boom from Lucy’s gun.

He slapped his hand against the wound, saw the ragged trail of split flesh beneath the tear in his shirt. The bullet had only grazed him. He darted into the kitchen, which also connected to the hallway to the rest of the tiny house. Lucy leaned against the wall beside the doorframe. Her chest heaved as she sucked in ragged breaths.

“I got him,” she said firmly. “But I think he ran outside.”

He peeked down the hallway. The front door gaped open. Against the snow, the droplets of blood stood out bright and vibrant. A revolver was abandoned in the center of the hall.

“He’s outside.” Vlad winced, his arm pulsating whenever he moved. “Lucy, where did you get that?”

She looked down at the gun and managed a weak grin. “We got it yesterday. You erased the memory so he wouldn’t see it.”

That was what he’d torn out. Something was wrong. Vlad would never condone her keeping the gun, let alone using it to murder Cheslav.

“We can’t kill him. You promised me.”

She shrugged. “That isn’t quite what I told you. Your memory is fuzzy,
Leech
. Well, we’re here now, love. Go get the knife.”

“Knife?”

“Yes. To defend yourself.”

His stomach clenched in a tight knot as he bolted to the kitchen. Her plan was to kill Cheslav all along. Had Lucy killed him in one shot, things would have been different, but now the man was wounded and they had to hunt him down. Vlad hated Cheslav more than anything else in the world, but this?

He somehow found what he searched for. It was small, the blade as long as his middle finger.

“Let’s go,” she ordered.

He led the way. The revolver was empty, which is why Cheslav must’ve abandoned it. Vlad and Lucy trudged through the snow, following the blood trail. Their shack was in a round clearing, the perimeter turning to trees and bushes. The nearest neighbor was four kilometers away, and Vlad doubted even if they had heard the sound of gunfire they’d do anything about it.

They found Cheslav leaning against his car, the vehicle covered in so much snow he never had a chance of digging it out in time. His breaths came out in foggy plumes.

“You fucking brats.” He wheezed, blood and spittle dribbling onto his chin. Lucy had hit him once in the chest, once in the leg. “You think you won?””

Vlad tightened his grip on the knife.

“We have won,” Lucy said.

Cheslav’s legs gave out under him and he slumped into the snow. He laughed wetly. “You might have done me in, you bitch. I’ll give you that. But whatever you plan to do after this, you will fail. This life I gave you? It’s the only one you’ll ever understand. It’s all you know.”

“When we get to America—” Lucy started.

“America!” Cheslav coughed. “You cannot fly. You do not have superhuman strength. You’re good for nothing. You’re just a couple of worthless—”

Lucy closed the distance and Vlad watched her raise the gun and press it against Cheslav’s forehead.

“Wait! Lucy…” Vlad said in English, hoping her native tongue might soothe her. “If we kill him, we become just like him. We’ll be bad people.”

“
He
is a bad person! He took our lives away. He makes sure every day we never have a chance of going back. Why do you want to stop me, Vlad? His death is the only way we can be free.”

“Don’t do this, Lucy, please.” A wave of nausea swept over Vlad. “We will find another way. We can give him to the police. Tell them he is chimeric. Let them punish him. Let’s not have his blood on our hands.”

“After everything he has done? To you? To me?” Lucy scowled. “And you don’t want him dead?”

Vlad shook his head. “I’m not a murderer. I have seen so much wrong in my life. I have
done
so much wrong against others. Now that I have a chance to decide for myself, why choose evil?””

“Because we have to. Because this one evil means a lifetime of good. Once we get there, we’ll never have to use our powers for evil again. I swear to you, Vlad. I swear we will be good.”

“Idiots…” Cheslav said through bloody teeth. “Stupid childr—”

Lucy squeezed the trigger and shot Cheslav between the eyes before the old man said another word.

Then. One year ago…

It wasn’t that Vlad didn’t trust her. At least, that’s what he told himself as he waited for her to fall asleep. They’d done many cons together, each of them carried out smoothly. She hadn’t put him in danger. Both discussed their past life, their dreams of escaping Cheslav. While the old man still griped about how much they were bringing in, his complaining had reduced over the months.

What made Vlad decide he had to read her mind was a collection of little incidents; things she said, the expressions on her face when she thought no one was looking. Lucy had been quiet for days. This was normal when they were around Cheslav, but at night in the room they shared they always had hushed conversations until they fell asleep. She’d been distracted or totally unwilling to participate.

Vlad didn’t love Lucy in a romantic sense. Sometimes he doubted he loved her even as he might a sister. They were merely two victims who only had one another, and the bond that developed from that is unstable and temporary. When Vlad decided she was keeping something from him, and she wouldn’t let him in on it, he knew he had to take action.

Their room was dark, but the night sky was clear. The moon shone into the room enough that Vlad could see her pale face glowing in its light. He must have waited for an hour before her breathing became even and her face went slack.

Slowly, as quietly as he could, Vlad peeled back his covers and stepped on the cold hardwood floor. He crossed the four feet separating their beds and, before he could second guess himself, reached out and set his fingertips on her forehead.

Lucy’s memories rewound. Vlad felt her underlying sense of tension as she got ready for bed, finish cleaning the kitchen, serving dinner, then making dinner. All normal. Vlad saw his own face slurping up beef stew. His black hair was greasy, gray eyes distant. He made a note to bathe more.

Her shift in attitude started much earlier, days before this. Vlad concentrated and let himself float farther down into her memories. He landed four days into the past, and he let the memory play in real time.

Lucy was watching Vlad sleep. Vlad remembered this; he’d fallen asleep on top of his covers, exhausted after they’re most recent trip. Cheslav was gone.

She turned and left the room, went to the kitchen, and retrieved the small knife she used to peel potatoes. Lucy ran her thumb against the edge of the blade.

He focused on her thoughts. She wondered if it was sharp enough. If she could do it when the time came. What if she stepped on a floorboard and it creaked, woke him up, and he’d kill her? What if she wasn’t brave enough? How long would it take him to die?

She spared a glance at the hallway leading toward their room. Lucy knew Vlad wouldn’t approve of her killing Cheslav. She saw no other way. She thought he was too weak to carry it out himself, not because of morals like he claimed, but because he had been under the old man’s thumb too long; that he actually liked Cheslav somehow.

Not letting himself react to it yet—it was better to stay neutral inside someone else’s mind—Vlad flicked through her memories to see if she’d since changed her mind about the murder.

As it turned out, she just hadn’t had the right opportunity. With each passing day, she grew more confident. She fantasized about killing Cheslav often. Vlad saw those fantasies, knowing they weren’t real memories because, in them, people’s faces were blurred, their bodies slightly warped. It was how he could tell the difference between something imagined, like a dream or fantasy, and something real.

No matter what Lucy thought, his reason not to kill Cheslav
was
because he believed it was wrong. He couldn’t let her carry through with this. Not if he could help it. Was it possible to delete days of memories?

He scanned through her thoughts for where she kept the knife. Obviously it was just a start, removing that memory, but if he kept a close eye on her he wouldn’t let her steal one again.

Lucy stored it inside a bag of dried beans in the pantry, reasoning neither Cheslav nor Vlad would ever stumble upon it.

As Vlad began to concentrate hard on the memory, he felt it begin to tear. He tugged at it, willing it away.

Then the world came rushing back to him, a cold smack in the face. Lucy sat upright in her bed, an accusatory look plastered across her face.

“How could you?”

Vlad frowned. “I saw it. The knife.”

“I can’t live this life,” she whispered. “I don’t understand how
you
do, but
I
can’t. You’re stopping me from being free just as much as he is. You were just using your power on me like you would a mark! As far as I’m concerned, I’m alone here.”

“No. Please.” Vlad dropped to his knees and looked up at her. “Killing is not the answer.”

“How many years have you been here, Vlad?”

“Nine,” he answered.

“And during all of those years, how many times have you tried to escape? Or find someone to help you?”

“Once,” he admitted. “But the world is changing. Every day chimerics are becoming more accepted. Eventually it will be the case here, and when it does I will report Cheslav and the police will help us instead of lock us up.”

“You’re mad,” she spat. “That day is far away, if ever. The only way out of this is to finish him once and for all. Why can’t you see that?”

Vlad rubbed his temples and sighed. “Where I grew up, children were murdered for being born chimeric. If a child manifested powers when they got older, they were killed or exiled with their whole family. I was born into a world where life was meaningless. I will never be a part of that. Never.”

They were silent for a minute before Lucy spoke. “The sister you told me about, the one who died. Was she murdered?”

“Yes.” Vlad swallowed a hard lump in his throat. “She was one of many babies.”

Vlad tilted his head up and watched her. Her face pointed away from the window and was shrouded in darkness. When she turned to look at him, half of it lit up in the moonlight.

“I’ll put my plan on hold. I don’t think I can do it with that stupid knife anyway,” she said. “But you have to promise me, Vlad. Promise me you will never look at my memories again. Ever.”

“I promise.”

She laid down and faced the wall, the covers pulled up to her ears. “It will be hell to pay if Cheslav finds out we were talking about this. That’s why I didn’t tell you.””

Vlad wandered back to his bed and sat down. “That isn’t the only reason why.”

“Maybe.”

His bed had grown cold. Vlad laid on his back and pulled his blanket up to his chin. He replayed their conversation over and over. What if he was ‘mad’ like Lucy said? What if he
was
captive to Cheslav in a way he wasn’t aware of?

Then he felt the tear, like when he pulled other people’s memories. Like the first time with Oleg. His own memory was cloudy, distant in the fog of his mind. He concentrated on it, on increasing the haze.

Pain. Sharp, stabbing pain everywhere. It was hard to focus on what he was erasing. He gave in to the feeling, letting it do what it wanted. The inhuman voice from the first time his powers manifested spoke to him. Guided him.

Vlad’s eyes flashed open. He sucked down gulps of air. He’d been cold before; now his body was on fire.

“What’s wrong?”

Lucy hovered over his bed. Her blonde hair tickled his face. Vlad swiped it away. He felt odd. Hadn’t he just been walking over to Lucy to read her memories?

“I did something,” Vlad said.

“What, love?”

“I do not know. I think…”

The voice. Inhuman, understood only by him in a way he couldn’t understand. Vlad’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he listened to it.

“My own memories,” Vlad breathed. “I can erase them.”

Lucy smiled. Behind it Vlad saw something he didn’t like. “That’s brilliant, Vlad. Brilliant.”

Now…

Weeks in the darkness of the freighter left their eyes sensitive to light. When the doors opened and the sun poured in, Vlad screwed his eyes shut and bit his tongue to stop from crying out. The fresh smell of saltwater swept away the stench in the shipping container.

After a moment of letting the brightness adjust first through his eyelids, Vlad opened his eyes and observed the scene.

A man walked into the container. He wore an oversized jacket and had a cigarette hanging limply from his mouth. His American accent when he spoke Russian was difficult for Vlad to understand. “Time to get out.”

“I speak English,” Lucy said.

“And him?”

“Some.”

The man shrugged. “You have your fare?”

“Fare?” Lucy croaked. “We already paid when we boarded.”

“You pay twice. Once to get here, once to get out. Same price.”

Vlad looked at Lucy who was as confused as he was.

“We don’t have any money,” Vlad said. “No one told us we needed more.””

“Fuck me, not this shit. Who sent you? I gotta know so I can collect.”

Lucy said, “We came on our own.”

“No family here?”

“No.”

“What the hell were you gonna do, then? Start a farm on the fucking prairie?”

“We’re chimeric,” she said proudly. “We came to America to become superheroes. To go to the TCA and be trained.”

The man chuckled. “You ain’t the first ones comin’ here with that dream. You know I can send you right back where you came from.””

Vlad stood on wobbling legs. He flexed his fingers and prepared for a fight. They’d come this far. They weren’t giving up.