Fruit of Misfortune (14 page)

“No one’s keeping you from those things.
There’s no rule that says that if you’re married you can’t attend
university. I want you to.”

“Yes, but the thing is…” I paused.

“What? What’s the problem?”

“I’m only eighteen.”

David took in a deep breath. “Yes—yes, you
are, aren’t you?” He rose to his feet, turned to the door, and
walked out.

“Wait...”

I debated on whether to go after him. How
could I tell him I was afraid that marrying him now would be a
mistake because I was going to let myself be killed by the Council
so that he wouldn’t turn into a monster? How could I tell him that
I might have feelings for his best friend? I wanted to be fair to
him. I wanted to know that there was no ounce of doubt when I
agreed to marry him. On the other hand, I couldn’t risk losing him.
I loved him. I knew that.

I tiptoed out of the room and ran down the
stairs, where I heard his footsteps echoing. From the staircase, I
saw David at the main entrance with his hand on the door. He pulled
something out of his pajama pocket, looked at it, and hurled it
into a vase.

“David…”

He turned to glace at me for a moment, before
turning back to look at the door, but that was enough time for me
to see the hurt in his eyes.

“I need time to think, Isis. I don’t know
what to make of this anymore.” He walked out.

“Wait!”

I ran toward the door, but by the time I
reached the driveway, David’s car was turning onto the street. Why
was he leaving if he knew he was in no condition to step out of the
house? I felt a knot in my stomach as I walked through the front
door. All I could do was hope that I hadn’t lost him.

Halfway up the stairs, I caught sight of the
vase. I hurried back down to the foyer and reached into the base of
the porcelain container. I touched a small, solid object and pulled
it out.

My heart felt like it had taken a nosedive
into a dry pool when I saw what I was holding. I was an idiot.
David was prepared to give me everything, but I, being the dense,
immature child he probably saw me as, was not.

I placed the gold ring, encrusted with three
oval rubies, on my finger. I didn’t deserve that ring. I didn’t
deserve David, either.

After wiping my tears of frustration away, I
removed the gold band and placed it back in the vase. I hated
myself because I would never be his unless I was human, and that is
one thing I had never been and never would be. I sat down at the
bottom of the staircase. I was tired of everything. I didn’t know a
damn thing about life or relationships. I was doing everything
wrong. Crying, however, was something I could do well and had
become a habit that I wasn’t attempting to break anytime soon. So,
as I had done when I got lost at the mall when I was five years
old, I cried, because that’s how I felt now at eighteen. I felt
lost.

I’d been sitting on the staircase for a long
time, when the front door opened and David walked in. He knelt next
to me and placed his forehead on mine, his hands holding the curve
of my jaw. His face was hot and his cheeks were covered in pink
patches. His puffy eyes were red and glossy.

“Isis,” he whispered. “Time is something that
we may not have anymore, and I don’t want to lose you to it. But
I’ll give you all the time you need, my lovely.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ve been thinking, and
I want to set a date.”

“A wedding date?”

I nodded. “But not till after the
transformation. I don’t know how that’ll turn out.”

“We have to keep our hopes high. We’ll get
through this. And you’ll have your happily ever after. I
promise.”

I wanted his words to be comforting, but so
far, I’d learned that hope was something that only existed in
fairytales. I couldn’t live off hope anymore. I needed to take
action before our transformation was complete.

“You’re right,” I said, with a smile I didn’t
mean. “We’ll be okay.”

The pavement was
wet as we walked uphill through an alley. A husky man wearing an
apron stepped out of a gray door to deposit a bundle of plastic
bags into a large trash bin. He kicked a cat out of his way as he
returned to his building. I frowned at him as I heard the pained
wails coming from the poor feline. We had walked for a block or two
when Galen stopped in front of a pair of heavy steel doors.

“This is the place.” Galen knocked.

A tall guy with sunglasses—almost as tall as
Galen—opened the door. He sized us up quickly.

“Doc’s busy,” he said. “Come back later.”

“We have an appointment,” Galen said.

“I said he’s busy.”

The palms of my hands started to sweat. I
hated confrontations.

“That’s okay. We can come back,” I said.

“We’re not leaving.” David looked at the man
behind the door. “We came to see the doctor, and we’re going to see
him.”

Galen took a step forward, but instead of
moving out of the way, the tall guy crossed his arms and tightened
his jaw. David pushed me back and attempted to take a step forward.
I grabbed his arm, pulling on it to keep him from joining Galen. I
was thankful when the door opened wider and another man appeared.
He looked us up and down, twice, and then placed a leather fedora
over his black hair. The man pulled out a cigarette case from his
linen coat.

“You’d make a good model.” He lit his
cigarette. His head jerked in our direction. “Give ‘em my card,” he
instructed the tall guy. “I got a job for you, if you’re
interested.”

The tall guy stretched his arm, holding the
card out to me. I reached for it, but he pulled the paper away and
laughed. He gave the business card to David instead. For a second,
I thought I heard my self-esteem whimper.

The man with the fedora and the cigarette
puffed a ring of smoke and started walking. A car pulled up and
another guy, just as tall as the first, stepped out of the car and
opened the door for the two men. The fedora man lifted the hand
that held the cigarette as a farewell gesture before he stepped
into the car.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” a voice
echoed from behind the steel doors. Out stepped a man with strands
of long, greying hair and a goatee. His lightning bolt earring was
a bit large for his earlobe. He wore a simple white t-shirt under a
white, short-sleeve lab coat that was too small for him. His khaki
pants were folded up to his ankles, exposing his bare and grimy
feet. Was this the genius scientist that was going to fix me? I
shot Galen a worried look, and he smiled in return.

“What business does…” David glanced at the
name on the card, “Gío Carboné have with you?”

“None. He’s a collector,” the doctor said.
“Let’s get started. This way to my lab.”

“What does he collect? Bodies?” I snorted, as
we walked into the building.

The doctor paused his step and looked at me
in surprise. “Rarities, mostly.” He blinked several times. “I’m
sorry. I just realized I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Doctor
Tobias Gunn. I already know Mr. Galen Chios, so that would make you
Mrs. Isis Chios,” he shifted his stare to David, “wife to Mr. David
Chios, who I’ve only met over the phone. Am I right?”

I shook my head. “Oh, I’m not—”

“Yes,” Galen spoke over me. “That’s
right.”

Gunn shook our hands. “I’d like to thank you
for your generous donation, and be assured that, as you’ve asked,
your anonymity will be kept.”

“About that, Dr. Gunn,” Galen said. “We’d
like to contribute further funding to your research.”

The scientist clapped his hands.
“Excellent!”

“To be clear, we’d like to become your
exclusive and prime source of funding,” David added, detailing the
condition of the deal.

“Exclusive?” The doctor blinked. I gathered
it was a nervous tick. “That could be very costly. Are you
sure?”

Galen slipped out a piece of paper from his
back pocket and handed it to Dr. Gunn. “Will this cover one year’s
worth of research?”

Gunn covered his mouth with his free hand and
made a sound like a mouse that made me giggle. David elbowed me.
The doctor folded the check and placed it in his shirt pocket.

“I’m at your family’s disposal twenty-four
hours a day,” Gunn said. “And I’m not just saying that. I don’t
sleep much, but even if I did sleep, which I wish I would, you
could count on me, sir… err… sirs and madam.”

“Thank you,” the brothers said.

“Let’s get started then.” Gunn turned his
back to us and walked in the direction of a wall of smooth
steel.

I laughed softly when I saw the image on the
back of the doctor’s lab coat. It was a picture of a dark human
silhouette wrapped in a colorful human DNA chain. Above the
picture, the doctor’s research lab’s name read
T.G. Genetics
Research Center & Laboratories.
Below the picture was his
slogan, “
We’ll unzip your genes if you let us.”

When we reached the end of the hall, I saw
that it was three panels that formed the wall. Gunn tapped a clear
square plate that lit up in neon blue upon his touch. He withdrew a
cotton swab from his lab coat pocket, wiped the inside of his cheek
with it, and then dabbed saliva on the panel. The light on the
small board turned green and the middle plate of the wall slid open
with a whoosh, revealing the laboratory. Though it seemed like a
pretty gross access key, I had to admire the doctor for his
ingenious design.

“After you,” the doctor said, dropping the
cotton swab back into his pocket.

The door slid shut behind us, creating a
light wave of air. I cringed, thinking of how many times a day he
used the same piece of cotton. Then a thought occurred to me, how
had Gemini managed to break into the lab without smearing Gunn’s
spit over the access panel?

I scanned the laboratory for windows, but
found nothing. What I did see were microscopes, surgical tools,
large machines, small medical equipment, two examination tables,
and multitudes of steel tables. One of the larger machines was
emitting an irritating beep.

The scientist led us to one of the many
tables. I gawked at a tray full of sharp metal rods that lay side
by side.

“Are you comfortable with needles, Mrs.
Chios?” Gunn asked.

“Not anymore.”

David took one of the syringes from the tray
that Gunn was holding. Gunn squealed like a mouse again.

“No touching,” Gunn said. “These are
sterile.” He took the needle from David and flung it into a small
trash bin displaying a biohazard warning.

“Dr. Gunn, there’s another issue to discuss
before you begin any procedures with the lady,” David said.

“Of course.”

Dr. Gunn set the tray on a lab table and
stood in front of David with his arms behind his back. Galen was
preoccupied with the doctor’s microscopes.

“I might’ve contracted the illness that’s
attacking my wife.”

“If it’s viral, it’s not uncommon since
you’re in close contact with each other as a couple.” The doctor
walked to a drawer next to me and pulled out two hospital gowns.
“You’ll have to remove all articles of clothing and accessories you
may be wearing. Follow me, please.” Gunn led us to a door in the
corner of the laboratory that I hadn’t noticed before. “Go ahead.
There’s room in there for both of you.”

I glanced at Galen, and then at David. David
opened his mouth to speak, but the doctor opened the door and
pushed us both into the room. It was a small bathroom.

“No time to waste,” Gunn said and closed the
door behind us.

It was large enough to fit two people in the
small room, but not spacious enough for two people to move around.
The showerhead was only three feet away from the toilet bowl and
there was a white sink and wall mirror adjacent to it.

“Can you face the other way?”

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” David asked, and
I shrugged. “Fine.”

We turned in opposite directions. I faced the
shower and hung the gown from a silver hook on the wall. As we
undressed, I found the space we had was much tighter than I
anticipated, and we elbowed each other a few times in the process.
I kicked my garments to the corner of the shower and grabbed the
gown off the hook. I wrapped the gown’s strings around me and
overlapped the back opening, making sure that I wasn’t exposed.

“I’m done,” I said.

“So am I.”

We turned to look at each other, wearing the
white and light blue print bed dresses. I whistled, seeing how the
hem of David’s gown was high up on his thigh.

“Sexy legs you got there.”

David shrugged. “I work out.”

“That’s trendy of you.”

I lifted my clothes from the floor, rolled
them into a ball and turned to look at David whose hand was already
gripping the knob. I waited for him to open the door, but he just
stood there with the silver handle in his grip.