Murder Genes (39 page)

The officer decided that the prisoners weren't worth keeping.
 
He pointed his personal bomb gun at the prisoners who'd already pulled off their blindfolds and begun scattering in the distraction.
 
Bad news.
 
If the officer pulled the trigger and managed to miss the prisoners, which was damn likely, Jay'd be the receiver.

Jay took a chance and threw his knife at the bastard.

The knife point went right into the barrel of the gun and stuck.
 
Karma's gotta get even one of these days.
 
The officer lifted the gun and stared at the blade coming from its end.
 
The blade tipped and dislodged from the barrel.

He charged.
 
He tackled the officer and began pummeling the man with right and...right hand again.
 
Asians were so small and this one thought that it'd be a good idea to keep holding on to his gun.
 
Jay made him pay for thinking that.
 
He nailed the guy with his elbow and felt the guy's nose crunch inward.
 
The officer went limp and stopped twitching.

He climbed up from the unconscious man and retrieved his knife.
 
He saw the last of the nearby Slant Eyes take a nasty fall into a rock and Xiaos materialized beside Jay like magic.
 
The ex-prisoners stared at them like Jay and Xiaos were gods.

Jay raised his voice.
 
"Pick up the guns and follow me."

Bitch's voice shot across from some unknown location, his voice bouncing and booming like he was running through a big tunnel.
 
"We're here to teach you to be fishers of fucking Korean cock!"

Jay sighed.
 
Bitch
really
wanted this penis badge thing to work.
 
He looked at the Fingers, knowing they recognized him.
 
Him and the bells through his face.
 
All
Natives knew his reputation and the bells, and soon the Slant Eyes would too.
 
"I'm Jay," he said.
 
"And we're The Redeemers."

Bitch came back with the most satisfied look Jay had seen on him in a long time.
 
"Enjoy yourself?" Jay asked.

"Fuck yeah, didn't you?"
 
Bitch wiggled the rifles he held in either hand and admired his emaciated biceps.
 
He kissed an arm.
 
"I like guns," he said in a baby's voice.

"I see that."
 
Jay waited.
 
Bitch seemed all right, no different.
 
Maybe the Thriller had stayed put and not overwhelmed him like Jay had worried.

"What?" Bitch asked him with an annoyed frown.

"What do I do with them?" Jay waved his hand back behind him where the twenty odd people sat with slumped heads.

Bitch rolled his eyes.
 
"Give them an inspiring speech, I don't know.
 
Why are you asking me?"
 
Bitch gave an exaggerated sigh and yelled.
 
"Hey everybody!"
 
Everybody
lifted their heads.
 
"Your Gamer has something to say!"
 
Bitch looked sideways at Jay before honing back in on the guns.
 
"All yours, Gamer."

Jay hesitated on Bitch a second longer before he looked at his merry band.
 
"I'm not a Gamer.
 
I'm a Redeemer.
 
And in a sec, you will be Redeemers, too.
 
We're a different kind of Team."

The men slumped their heads back down.
 
Encouraging.

"We saved you because we need you.
 
We saved you because you are gonna be useful to me.
 
I'm your leader, but there are going to be rules you haven't heard of.
 
Rules that I expect every one of you to comply with."
 
In the movies it was always just one guy who spoke up.
 
But these weren't the movies.

"Fuck do we care?" One said.
 
"We're dead anyway, Korees moving in and changing the rules--"

"--we're the Finger of God, not some fucking Redeemers.
 
Quit pretending we're anything but your prisoners--"

"--suck my shit, Esperanza, your last plan didn't work too good for you, did it?"
 
Someone jeered.

"He's a weakass, why are we listening to him?"

Things were getting out of control before they'd even started.
 
His reputation hadn't been exactly the one Jay'd thought he'd had.

"Fucking step up, Redeemer, you're losing them," Bitch mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

Jay knew how to get them to listen.
 
Morir style.
 
Jay took out the last remaining grenade and pulled the pin with his teeth and shoved it at the last dissident speaker's mouth.
 
The guy wouldn't open, glaring at Jay.
 
"Bitch, make him open his mouth."

Bitch sauntered up and put the barrel of his rifle on the guy's cheek.
 
"Open," Bitch said.

The man opened and Jay stuffed the grenade into the guy's mouth.
 
He spun it slightly, until it was just right within the man's mouth.
 
Barely fit for such a big talker.
 
Jay admired his work.
 
"Bitch, if he tries to take that out, fucking shoot him."

Everyone moved away from the son-of-a-bitch.
 
"Gotcha, Gamer," Bitch said.

Jay turned up the Morir-esque vulgarity.
 
"Now, I'm trying to giving you an inspiring speech, and you Fingers can't seem to fucking keep your cunts closed.
 
So unless you shut the hell up, we'll blow your buddy's fingers off.
 
If you keep talking, we'll take his hands.
 
After that, his arms.
 
All the way up until he hates your guts so much he'll run straight at you with that grenade in his mouth and blow you to bits while we play target practice on whoever's left."

Some kid opened his mouth.
 
The man with the grenade whipped his head and glared.
 
The kid shut his mouth.

"See that?" Jay said.
 
"Perfect example of what I'm about to tell you fuckers."

They looked at him.

"While you bastards were killing each other and I was hanging out with my buddies happy as clams in Esperanza, we figured out something.
 
There was a really smart scientist guy who'd been thrown in here who never had The Code in him.
 
Politics, you get it."
 
Jay waved his hand low.
 
"He pointed out that
everybody
has The Code in them to a certain extent.
 
Even the people outside Morir.
 
We didn't believe him at first, but turns out he was right.
 
Ever wonder why some higher-ups don't seem to be coming to Morir?
 
Like the majority of them have a get-out-of-jail fucking monopoly card?
 
Or did you really believe that no one's being murdered anymore outside?
 
Believe that the government bastards and media couldn't cover things up if they wanted?"

Jay stared at the Fingers in turn.
 
"Even crazier is that The Code doesn't mean you have to murder people, it just means that we're warriors.
 
We fight better, we kill better, but we also defend better.
 
How many of you before you got to Morir were the types that got violent and angry and aggressive when someone you cared about went through hard times?
 
How many of you were athletes?"

Some people nodded.

"We're like that because we are Protectors instinctively.
 
They got it wrong, people with The Code are the people keeping the rest of civilization safe and alive."
 
Jay held up a finger and spoke with finality.
 
"If we choose to, that is."
 
He walked up to the guy with the grenade in his mouth, took the grenade out and threw it as far as he could.
 
It blew up somewhere.
 
"Got your attention yet?"

He nodded.
 
"Sure.
 
Still doesn't change anything.
 
We're still in here, Protectors or not."

"What's your name?"

"Paul."

Another Paul.
 
Quit haunting me.
 
"You're right.
 
I'm glad you're speaking your mind, Paul, it means you're thinking.
 
And it also means that you're new here."

Paul nodded carefully.

"That's why I'm gonna choose to like you, Paul.
 
You have people you care about on the outside?"

"My sister."

"That's sweet.
 
How much would it mean to her that you aren't a born murderer?"

"A lot," Paul said.

"Well, you aren't.
 
You're a born Protector if you choose."

"I still don't know how any of this matters," Paul said.

"It matters because they told us we had no choice.
 
You do.
 
By taking choice away from us, they took our humanity and our lives from us.
 
By taking choice away they fucking killed us, murdered us even.
 
They
are the murderers.
 
By taking away our choice, we were punished for a crime we didn't commit."
 
Jay made a fist and then pointed out each one of the people listening.
 
"None of us are born murderers.
 
It matters to our consciences because we didn't murderer anyone, we've only protected ourselves."

Another man spoke.
 
"You don't get it, do you,
Gamer
?
 
We don't care because we're dead anyway.
 
Damned Korees are going to kill us anyway no matter if we are murderers or fucking Protectors.
 
So unless you have a plan to survive, we don't care."

"I do have a plan.
 
Not to survive, but to save those I care about.
 
The Korees have a plan to escape Morir.
 
This is a organized army we're facing, that's why they aren't killing each other like we've been and why we can't stop the bastards from doing whatever they want.
 
The only way to beat them is to make our own army and work together.
 
Then we kill them as fast as we can because if they escape, our country and almost every other country is a sitting duck.
 
The Korees will destroy the whole damn US of A and no one is going to stop them because
we're
all dead."

"Let me get this straight," the new man said.
 
"You don't kill people unless you are 'protecting' people anymore.
 
And you want us to join you in trying to defeat this Korean army which we know is hundreds of thousands strong already, soon to be more, to protect the very same people who put us in this fucking hell."

"Right," Jay answered.

"So you won't be killing us if we leave right now." the same man stated.

"No."

He nodded.
 
"See ya."
 
He got up and a bunch of others went with him.

It wasn't that Jay expected them to be moved by what he'd told them, but at the very least he expected them to care.
 
He thought it would mean the most to the people being defined by The Code, get them angry or relieved,
something
.
 
But it hadn't.
 
They didn't care because they were so drawn into the idea that they'd die and nothing else mattered.
 
It was like trying to get a clinically depressed person to smile.

"You fuck at this," Bitch said, looking at the five people that hadn't left.
 
Counting Jay, Xiaos, and Bitch.

"Paul's still here," Jay noted.

"Yeah, great.
 
Have either of you been here longer than a week?" Bitch asked them.

Neither raised their hands.

"They’re fodder," Bitch said.
 
"What's your next brilliant plan?"

Jay shrugged.
 
"Get more people.
 
What's your name?" he asked the other guy who looked like he was fifty.

The old man didn't answer, staring blankly in front of him like he was dumb or deaf.

"He's always like that," Paul said.
 
"Never seen him do anything."

"Can he follow instructions?" Jay asked.

Paul shrugged.

"Stand up," Jay said.

The man stood up slowly.

"You know," Bitch said like he'd just realized something.
 
"Jesus was much better at this than you.
 
He still has people following him even though he's been dead for centuries."