The Killing Jar (19 page)

CPI-RQ2-06, NEW YORK

AUGUST 11, 2232

She knocked on the door, the third down on the left, not expecting anyone to answer. No one had answered the last four times.

But this time she did answer.

Mable opened the door, the smug, angry look absent from her face. Instead she almost looked nice. “You’re Dasia?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I saw you left your tablet this morning.” Dasia held out the device at arm’s length.

“Oh, thanks. I forgot all about it.” Mable smiled. “Do you want to come in?”

“Sure,” she said, though she wondered if that was safe. Not only was Mable formerly unresponsive, she had done a complete one-eighty in only twelve hours. Dasia had serious concerns about her mental stability.

Still, if Mable was going to try to be nice, then so was Dasia. It was the least she could do after Jane disappeared.

“Did they take you upstairs yet?” she asked, unsure of where to begin.

“To see the bugs? Yeah, Arrenstein showed me.” Mable didn’t seem fazed in the least as she sat in the slim metal desk chair.

Dasia sat on the bed and pulled up her legs to cross beneath her. “Pretty freaky. The way they touch your brain and all that. It sounds like a horrible way to die.” Dasia still got shivers thinking about them.

“It’s not the way I would pick, that’s for sure.” Dasia couldn’t believe the sly smile on Mable face, as if death was a familiar subject, a long-lost friend she enjoyed remembering.

“Did you ever know anyone that died?” It was a rude question, she knew as soon as it left her mouth.

“A few. My brother, some friends.”

“Does it ever get easier?” Dasia had to know. Would she one day be like Mable, a casual acquaintance to grief rather than its slave?

“No, not really.” Mable looked at her, a stone-solid gaze so that Dasia had no doubt she meant it with every fiber. It must have been a look she made that caused Mable to ask, “Who was it?”

Already the tears filled her eyes so she had to blink them away. A quiver shook her lip and she struggled to answer. “A friend. Cole.” At the sound of his name, even in her own voice, the held-back tears slipped down her cheek.

“More than a friend?” Dasia didn’t see Mable get up, but only felt her arm across her shoulders, the first comfort since that horrible day.

“Is that how you got here?” Mable’s voice was low and quiet.

Dasia nodded and pressed her ear against Mable’s shoulder. Then she sobbed in earnest. Mable was good enough to let her cry, to hold her in arms wrapped tight.

Until she said, “That’s five minutes. That’s all you get.”

Dasia’s head shot up and she stared at the girl, the cruel, hateful girl she had tried to befriend.

First Jane, then Mable.

Dasia was doomed to a life of loneliness, the only life she deserved.

“What do you know about combat?” Mable asked, like it was a perfectly normal question.

“Nothing.” With shame, Dasia wiped the tears from her cheeks and started toward the door. It had been a mistake to come here.

“I can teach you. If you want.”

Dasia spun. “Really?”

“Yeah, come on.” Mable fetched a handful of black fabric strips and left the room.

Dasia could only follow behind and wonder what the hell was going on, who the hell was this girl.

“Where are we going?” she asked at last.

“Outside.”

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“Does it matter?”

Mable found a series of unlocked doors that led to the pod garage and eventually opened into the open grounds that surrounded the complex. They walked between the stone pathway lined in little shrubs and the occasional flower until they reached a wide open grassy area.

“Give me your hands.”

Dasia held her hands out as Mable rotated them palms down.

“Spread your fingers, like this,” and Mable showed her. With her hands splayed open before her, Dasia watched as Mable wrapped the strips of black fabric around her hands, mostly on the knuckles. “It’ll keep it from hurting so bad. And it’s going to hurt.”

Given the choice between the ache in her chest and a few sore knuckles, Dasia would gladly choose the latter.

Mable must have noticed her determination, the way her shoulders stood a little straighter. “Good girl.” She smiled as she tied off the last of the strips. “When you punch, you want to strike with this part of your hand.” She pointed to the first two fingers on her own fist. “If you don’t, you could break your wrist. Then you won’t be hitting anyone. You only hit with these, got it?”

Dasia nodded.

“Good. Now hit me.”

“What?” Dasia let her wrapped-up hands fall to her side. “I’m not going to hit you.”

Mable smiled. “Try. I bet you can’t.”

Those words were all it took to get her fired up. There was nothing Dasia hated more than someone telling her she couldn’t do something. She would do it to prove them wrong.

So she let her fist fly. Like a baby bird from the nest, it moved but didn’t go anywhere meaningful. Mable stepped to the side and dodged.

“Remember, these two fingers. Hit me with those,” she taunted.

In her mind, Dasia pictured the flat area on her hand, the one Mable said wouldn’t break her wrist. She pictured it moving forward, striking the girl, and then let her fist fly out, but missed again. On and on it went, Dasia moving her arms toward Mable, striking nothing but air.

She was tired, her breath ragged and her forehead coated with beads of sweat. Her muscles were warm and she knew she’d be sore in the morning.

But it was the best thing she’d done since Cole’s death. It was exactly what she needed.

“Ready to go back in?” Mable’s hair stuck to her face where it had fallen from her ponytail.

“No,” Dasia said with another failed strike.

“We can come back out tomorrow. We can come every day if that’s what you want.”

When Dasia’s next punch flew, Mable caught it in her hand. “That’s enough for today,” she said, her voice quiet.

Dasia conceded. She took in several lungfuls to steady her breathing. She nodded her head in defeat.

“You’ll get better. You’ll get stronger. We’ll keep working.” Mable rubbed a hand over Dasia’s back, not unlike her mother would do when she was ill as a child. Dasia knew her shirt must be soaked with sweat, but Mable didn’t shy away.

Instead, Mable stared hard for a moment. She pulled Dasia in close to her. Time stopped as she leaned in and kissed her lips, soft and slow at first, then faster. Harder. It happened all at once, a blur of heartbeats and eagerness. She felt Mable’s hand on her back, pulling her in. Mable’s kiss was strong and warm until, without warning, she let go.

Dasia froze in place. She’d never touched a girl. She’d never touched anyone besides Cole. She so enjoyed being close to someone but she wasn’t ready to open her heart again. It was still mortally wounded.

But Mable didn’t press her. She slid her fingers between Dasia’s and walked back inside as if it were something they did all the time.

Dasia’s thoughts raced, trying to piece it together but failing in spectacular fashion.

“You think they’ll like that we’re doing this?” Dasia asked.

“Does it matter?” Mable replied for the second time.

“No, I guess not.” With every word, Dasia liked her more. Mable was strong and confident, but not like Jane was. Hers was a quiet confidence, a surety in herself that didn’t come from those around her. She was exactly the kind of person Dasia wanted to be.

CPI-RW2-05, NEW YORK

AUGUST 11, 2232

Theo sat at the small desk in his room with this tablet pulled apart into dozens of small pieces before him. To the left, his wristlet sat with the small panel open.

“How much longer is that going to take?” Jane fussed from the bed. Her bob hung limp over her face and her feet were kicked up in the air.

“A few more minutes. You can go on without me.” Theo was hungry, too, but he wanted to get it done. He felt so disconnected without a functioning wristlet.

He didn’t tell her how much he wanted to see if tablet connectivity would let him contact Nate. There were so many things left to say.

“No, I want to go with you.” She climbed from the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her body pressed against his shoulders.

“Almost done. Promise.” Then he felt her lips on his cheek, moving along his jaw until the lobe of his ear was tucked between her gently clenched teeth.

Theo froze.

He had no idea what to do. Kiss her back? Push her away? Make a move?

He stayed perfectly still.

Jane swung around and slid onto his lap. “Am I distracting you?” She batted her almond eyes.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

“Fine.” In a heartbeat, she returned to the bed to wait.

Theo hurried to finish, to make sure he wasn’t caught so off guard again. All he needed were the nine digits from the relay, the connectivity code the wristlet used to tap into his files. It was a shame he had to remove half the internal components to get to it.

In less than five minutes, he found the code and entered it before reassembling the tablet as fast as possible. He slid the wristlet onto his arm and tested it, pulling up the latest files from Nick, a list of previous cases involving the bugs.

“Ready?” he asked, eager to leave the room and the situation.

“Yeah,” she replied, though more somber than before.

It wasn’t that Theo didn’t like Jane, he did like her. She was intelligent like a Scholar but exciting and full of life like an Artisan. And here, at CPI, he didn’t have to choose between the two. She was just the type of girl he liked.

But Jane liked to have his full attention. He wasn’t sure he could handle that for the rest of his life. Theo was starting to think maybe he wanted someone easy, someone whose company was effortless and natural.

Maybe he needed time. It had only been a few days.

Besides, there weren’t a lot of other options. Dasia was nice, but plain. She was a Craftsman who didn’t say much. A small town girl with a small town life. And Mable was pretty much the last person he could choose, a human cactus.

No, it was Jane or no one.

So he tried to make it work with her.

At the galley, platters of mini-sandwiches, fruit kabobs, and green salad spread across the table. Knox sat munching on his creations as Osip, Georgie, Dasia and even Mable sat chatting and tasting his foods.

“Well, well if it isn’t the princess!” Georgie said with feigned gratitude.

Jane shot him a glare. She slid into the chair beside him and selected a sandwich to try. Theo was left to the seat between Jane and Mable. He tried not to look at her.

“What are these?” Theo asked as he grabbed one as well. If Knox made it, he was going to eat it, but still, he was curious to know.

“Egg salad sandwiches. They pretty much smash your crepes,” Knox replied with a laugh.

“Do you ever make sense?” Osip whined and they all laughed.

“Slow your brain cakes, peanut butter.” Knox’s full cheeks giggled with laughter.

Theo chuckled as Osip replied, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Nick shot your noggin with the bugs, eh?” The mood fell from a mid-flight shuttle.

“Something like that. Damn, those things are freaky.” They all stared at the table, Theo included. They had all had seemingly messed up lives before, but now, now that they knew there were brain-eating bugs sneaking around the world, it was a whole other level of messed up.

Georgie was the first to speak, his face mostly hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair. “Have you ever seen one? A living one?”

“Grease on a grill.”

“What were they like?”

Knox leaned his bulk back in his chair and considered the question. “Honey.”

“Honey? As in sweet?” Theo stared along with the rest of them. Only Mable seemed calm.

“Sticky,” Knox clarified.

Theo’s stomach plummeted. Jane leaned close and rested a hand on his thigh beneath the table where the others couldn’t see. It wasn’t the aggressive move like she’d made before. This was something else. She was afraid.

Theo covered her hand with his and squeezed it tight. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

The mild vibration of his wristlet sounded in the thick silence. On the small screen, he read the ecomm. “Nick wants us to meet him in the auditorium.”

“Now?” Osip asked as he grabbed two sandwiches in each hand.

They all stood, all but Knox, and started down the corridor. When he looked back, Theo saw Mable leaned over Knox as she planted a kiss on his cheek. He smiled wide as she left.

By the time Jane and Theo made it to the auditorium, hands clasped tight, Osip and Georgie were already seated. Dasia and Mable came in next. It took a full ten minutes for Nick to arrive.

“Hey, sorry for the short notice. I forgot to send the ecomm this morning. Anyways, now that you’re all here, I want to go over the specifics of the program. Hopefully you’ve had some time to get used to the idea of bugs.”

Nick looked around the room waiting for protest, but none came.

“How this usually works is, you will be assigned teams of two.”

Jane squeezed his hand and leaned her head against his shoulder. Theo didn’t miss her meaning.

“Some teams will be responsible for collecting data, analyzing trends, performing interviews, using any means available to determine if a person is infected. The existence of bugs is a highly-guarded secret, so while this may seem like an easy job, it’s quite challenging. Your options are extremely limited.”

Theo immediately rejected that role. He didn’t want to sit at a desk and process data all day. He would have selected Craftsman if that was his goal.

“Other teams will be extraction teams. In these circumstances, one person, the agent, will be in the field to perform the extraction while the other, the handler, will be in a secure location leading them through the process.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to have two people go in the field?” Georgie asked, his nerves worn plainly on his face.

“No, then both recruits are in danger of infection. Only one in the field at a time. We’re trying to limit the body count.” The room fell silent.

Nick pushed his hands into his pockets. “There are six of you, so this week Dr. Arrenstein and I will start arranging you into your teams. Some for recon and some for extraction. To determine your compatibility, you’ll each take a series of tests. Intellect. Personality. Make sure you complete each one in the next two days. Once assigned, your teams are permanent. Dr. Arrenstein believes a long working relationship helps build trust.” Nick rolled his eyes.

“If you have a preference of role or partner, that will be taken into consideration, but ultimately the decision is ours. Should you have any requests, please send me an ecomm by the end of day tomorrow. Until your teams are assembled, you should continue looking through the files and familiarizing yourself with the types of bugs and how to extract him. There are a few vids for you to download. I’d recommend watching them very closely. Some of you will be performing extractions in the next few months.”

Then he was gone. The six of them sat in their chairs in shock.

With Jane tight on his side, Theo knew exactly what his ecomm would say. He would be the agent, and Jane would be his handler. It was the only way.

He pulled up the command on his wristlet and sent it off.

“You want to be with me?” Jane asked, her voice sweet.

Theo nodded. He realized it was true, he did want to have her with him. They already had a connection. And now, they would be together, working together day in and day out.

That was enough for him.