Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 (49 page)

She had collected her belongings and had
been given her mustering-out pay, including a hefty bonus. She had
then set out to return to work with the chimps in their new homes.
One pair went to the Gombe Stream Chimpanzee Reserve in Tanzania.
The other pair was sent to Kitera Forest Reserve at the North
Carolina Zoo in Asheboro, which was only a four-hour drive from
Summerville. Besides being dehydrated and hungry, once the chimps
had been recovered and separated, they didn’t seem to have any
lasting effects from their ordeal.

Regardless of the threats that had been
issued, she felt she would never have closure until she saw the man
living in South Carolina with her own eyes, and spoke with him. She
needed to know, if only for herself, what the truth of the matter
was. Undaunted by the possible consequences, she woke up early that
morning and made the drive, vowing to get to the truth or die
trying.

The sound of children playing caught her
attention. Looking over, she saw the pair, a boy and a girl, with
fair, freckled faces and bright orange hair, playing ball with a
yellow Labrador retriever in the front yard. Her heart nearly
skipped a beat at the sight. Rob’s description of them was dead-on.
“This must be the place. You came this far, you can’t back out
now,” she said out loud. She glanced at the dashboard. The clock
read 10:17 a.m.
I’ve been here for half an hour. If I don’t go
soon, somebody’s gonna call a cop.

She checked over her shoulder for what
seemed like the thousandth time to be sure that she hadn’t been
followed, then looked back and watched the children scamper into
the garage. The pair were followed closely by the trotting lab. She
waited for a few minutes to see if anyone would come out. When no
one did, she reached for the door handle, wincing when the pain in
her bicep reminded her why the doctor had recommended that she wear
a sling for a further two weeks to allow the gunshot wound to heal
properly. But she found it to be more of an inconvenience than it
was helpful.

She got out and slowly made her way across
the street, taking care not to step on the manicured lawn. As she
approached the open garage door, she heard the unmistakable sound
of children giggling from behind a yellow 1969 Ford Bronco parked
next to a maroon Ford Taurus. “Hello?” she called, inching her way
to the opening.

All at once, the kids burst from the
shadows, each armed with a massive squirt gun.

“Oh, please don't shoot me!” she
screamed.

Too late. The kids took deadly aim and
proceeded to hose her down from head to toe, laughing hysterically
all the while. June tried in vain to ebb the flow by holding her
hands in front of her, but with no success. When the torrent
subsided, and the laughter died down, the boy screwed up his face.
“Who are you?”

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she was
thankful that the weather forecast was on the cool and breezy side,
and she had decided on a pair of jeans and a red and white flannel
shirt instead of the sundress that she had been considering. “Is
this the Tyler residence?”

The little girl’s jaw dropped as her brother
asked, “You're not here for daddy's party, are you?”

June had no time to answer before a door
inside the garage opened and a woman’s voice was heard. “Who are
you two murdering now?”

From behind the Bronco came a petite woman
with shoulder-length auburn hair, dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian
blouse. She took one look at the drenched woman and then at her
children who were attempting, unsuccessfully, to hide their watery
weapons behind their backs.

Looking back at the stranger, Carol couldn't
contain her grin. “I am so sorry! We're having a birthday party
today for my husband and they must've mistaken you for one of our
guests.” She glared unconvincingly at the twins, which did little
more than elicit more giggling. “Let me get you a towel.”

After fetching several hand towels from the
laundry room, the embarrassed but amused mother of June’s attackers
continued to apologize.

“It's okay,” June insisted. “I work with
animals. Believe me, I've been covered in much worse.”

“Is there something I can do for you?” Carol
asked as she helped June dry her hair. “Other than dry cleaning, I
mean.”

“Are you Carol Tyler?”

“That's me. And if you’re selling something,
I guess I’m obliged,” she said cheerfully.

June looked again at the twins. “And that
would make you C. C. and you Christian, right?” She looked at each
one in turn.

The kids bobbed their heads up and down as
they heard the door in the garage open again, and a familiar voice
call. “Carol, are the kids with you? 'Cause I lost sight of ‘em.”
As he came around the Bronco, Rob froze. “June?”

June was wide-eyed at the sight of him. She
tried to speak, but was unable to formulate words.

Carol looked from the stranger to her
husband. “You two know each other, I take it?”

“Button, this is June. From, you know, from
Georgia,” he answered.

Carol turned back. “Doctor Phillips? June
Phillips?”

June summoned strength enough to speak and
extended her hand as she found her voice again. “It's very nice to
meet you. I've heard so much.”

Carol shook hands, a confused smile on her
face. “Likewise.”

“What're you doing here?” Rob asked, and
then thought the question sounded rather crass. “I mean, it’s great
to see you, but—”

June's astonishment turned to embarrassment.
“I'm sorry I showed up unannounced. I forgot that it was your
birthday. Maybe I should come back another time?”

“No, no,” Rob said, drawing a confused look
from Carol. “I didn't mean it like that.” He noticed the towels and
the fact that she was drenched for the first time. “Do we have
anything she can change into?”

“What?” Carol was confused, but looked back
at June. “Sure. Come inside and we’ll get you some dry
clothes.”

Minutes later, June found herself alone with
Rob, sitting in the family’s living room. There were toys strewn
about, and a VeggieTales movie was playing on the muted television.
She was wearing one of Rob's bathrobes, as Carol had thrown her
clothes into the drier. An uncomfortable tension hung in the air as
they sat there in silence. June was in a chair and Rob was on the
couch. Above the TV was a mantle where a number of family pictures
were displayed. June stood and picked one up to study. “You have a
beautiful family … Rob.”

“Thank you very much,” he replied. He could
feel that she was uncomfortable, but chalked it up to this being
her first meeting with Carol and the kids. “How are the chimps
faring?”

“They’re well, considering. Each pair is
adapting to their new environment and they seem to be making the
transition fairly well.” She had seen the scar on his hand when
they first entered the house. When she did, her uneasiness had been
replaced with resolve. She squared her shoulders and looked into
his eyes, determined to get some answers. “South America, huh?”

Rob knitted his brows together. “Excuse
me?”

She leaned toward him. “You told me you were
going to South America so you could think. When’d ya get back?”

“South America?” He shook his head. “What
are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Rob. Just tell me what all of this
has been about. I deserve that much, don’t I? Was this really all
about me? Did someone order some kind of experiment to see how I’d
react under stress? Or what?”

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked,
searching her face.

“No, Rob. No, I am most definitely not
feeling alright.” She rested her head on the back of the chair,
gazing up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I broke the rules and came
here. I might be going to prison for the rest of my life if they
find out, but I’m here now. The least you could do is tell me what
all of this was for.”

“All of what? June, you’re not making any
sense.”

“Oh, you guys did a really fine job with
everything. The lab, the truck crash, your fight with Covington was
very convincing. Oh, and shooting me was a nice touch.”

“Shooting you? June, I don’t have a clue
what you’re talking about.”

“Is everything alright?” Carol asked as she
rounded a corner carrying a pitcher of iced tea and some
glasses.

“I really don’t think so.” Rob eyed June
warily.

June watched as Carol placed her tray on the
coffee table. “Is this what your husband does for a living? Help
the government screw with people’s lives?”

“Rob, should I call somebody?” Carol asked,
not taking her eyes off of June.

“Yeah,” June's eyes narrowed, “go and call
Walsh. He’s in charge isn’t he?” June’s agitation was growing.
“That was a good trick too, making me think he was killed.”

Rob stood and stiffened. “Benny Walsh
is
dead. He was killed in the crash.”

“Sure he was,” June smiled. “But you’re
getting your story mixed up now, aren’t you Commander?
If
you’re really
in
the Navy.”

“Yes I am. I’m on terminal leave now. I’m
retiring.”

“Of course you are. Better keep your facts
straight. Except Walsh didn’t die in the crash. He was shot right
in front of me. I had fake blood all over me.”

“What?” Rob said incredulously. “Benny was
shot?”

His reaction silenced her. She was taken
aback by the genuine emotion in the man’s eyes. What she saw in
those eyes made her blood curdle. She saw rage.

It took all of a second for Rob to regain
his composure and when he did, he spoke in a tone that sent chills
up June’s spine. “Doctor Phillips. Up to now you haven’t made any
sense, but you’re about to.” He took a step toward her.

“Rob!” Carol grabbed him by the arm.

June didn’t know what to say. Rob was in
complete control of the situation, and whatever it was that she had
begun to suspect was melting away like snow in a blast furnace.
Confusion was beginning to overwhelm her. She had come here to see
the clone, to find out why they were conducting this elaborate
ruse. But the man standing before her was Rob Tyler, she was sure
of it. And yet she was sure that the man she had been with in
Florida was Rob. There was plenty of time for him to get to South
Carolina while she was being held, but what was the point of it
all?

“Lady,” he stabbed a finger at her, “you had
better start talkin’.’”

She ignored the implied threat and tried to
understand the only horrifying conclusion that she could make. She
bit her lower lip. “Do you remember the night before they put you
into the scanner?”

“What? Um, yeah, we went and visited with
the chimps.”

“Before that,” June prodded.

“You mean when I cut my hand?” he asked,
reflexively looking at the fading scar.

“Yeah.”

“I don't understand,” Carol said, more
annoyed than confused. “What does this have to do with
anything?”

“What's this all about, June?” Rob asked
impatiently.

June put her head in her hands and stared at
the carpet. When she lifted it again she looked at Carol. “How much
does she know?”

“I don’t keep secrets from my wife any
more,” Rob said, putting his arm around Carol.

June’s expression remained blank as she
considered the possibilities. Finally, she asked, “What did they
tell you happened to the clone?”

“That it died, that the experiment was a
failure.”

She stood up. “I have to go.” She started
for the door.

“Wait,” Carol said. “What about your
clothes?”

Rob followed. “Wait a minute!” He grabbed
her sleeve, spinning her around.

“Don't touch me!” she shouted.

Rob recoiled from the unexpected reaction.
“June you’re obviously upset, but you’re still not making any
sense. It’s
me
. We’re
friends
. Now tell me, what
happened to Benny?”

“It's you, huh? It's you, right?” She was
shaking and tears were welling in her eyes. She couldn't process
what her senses were telling her.

“Rob, should I call someone?” Carol asked
again, fearing June was having some kind of emotional
breakdown.

“Give me a minute, Button,” he answered. He
tried to take June by the shoulders, but she jerked away from him.
“June, tell me what's going on!”

“Who was it that told you that the clone
died?”

“Greg and Don.”

She looked at the floor. “They’re in on it
too.”

Rob frowned. He was trying to be patient
with the apparently unbalanced woman, but he wanted answers. “In on
what? June, what happened to Benny?”

She didn’t hear the question and time seemed
to stop. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “They lied to you,
Rob. That’s not what happened.”

“What? What do you mean?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering
her courage. When she opened them again, she turned and grabbed
Carol by the arm. Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper as she
looked into her eyes. “The clone lived.”

* * * * *

ROB WAS
SITTING AT GATE
T-2 in Rio de Janeiro-Galeão International
Airport. He was staring at the Sky Chef truck just pulling away
from the TAM Airline Airbus 320. The ground crew finished
transferring passenger luggage from the carts to the belly of the
red and white aircraft. He glanced at his watch, its radial face
set to local time. It read 11:50 a.m.

“Happy birthday,” he said to himself
unenthusiastically.

Reaching down, he unzipped one of the
compartments of his carry-on bag that was sitting at his feet and
withdrew a package of trail mix. Using his teeth, he tore it open
and began munching on its contents. Across from him he noticed a
woman staring at him as she sat with a small child of about eight
years who was smiling at him. She leaned over and whispered into
the boy's ear. Rob's Portuguese was terrible, but he got the gist
of what she was telling the boy when she imitated the way he had
used his teeth to open the package.