Zippered Flesh 2: More Tales of Body Enhancements Gone Bad (23 page)

The trip took less time than expected. Maybe it was because Tomas was determined to get things done quickly and aggressively. Even Rafael was surprised how swiftly and brutally he had been able to take care of the situation. Tomas could see it in his eyes. His scared eyes.

Before he got on the plane home, he made Rafael promise that his number was off limits for the rest of the week, at least until the weekend was over. He had earned time with his family, and he didn’t want any more distractions unless it was an absolute emergency. And even then, he would weigh it carefully to determine just how urgent it really was.

He got on the red eye and, despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t get any sleep. He just stared out the window of the plane at the clouds below. Thinking of little Juney.

He thought about the man he had strangled with his bare hands. The way the man’s eyes bugged out of his head as he struggled for air that wasn’t coming.

Tomas listened to the sounds the plane made, hoping they would lull him to sleep. Even a couple of hours would have made a world of difference, the way he felt.

But sleep eluded him.

Graham woke under the house, knowing that Tomas Robinson was home. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard anything in his sleep, but whatever woke him up was more than just a sound. He could
feel
the man above him, in the house. It was so vivid that actually touching the man wouldn’t have been much more intimate.

They’re all home now; time to take root, Graham thought. And then he was no longer aware of the boundaries of his body. Instead, he was like a pair of eyes hovering over the world. Hovering over the house of Tomas Robinson, looking for just the right soil in which to plant himself. The choice he made was essential to the plan. He entered the body of that chosen person and took up residence inside them, sending forth slender roots to firmly grasp bodily organs and hold them tight.

He then began to grow.

It would not happen overnight, but it did happen relatively quickly, considering how he had to begin again as a seed and sprout into a fully formed human being.

“I can’t get up,” she told him. She tried to be quiet, but every once in a while a low moan would escape from her lips. She was having one of her migraines.

Tomas felt helpless, but he knew there wasn’t much he could do except leave her alone. He did get her a warm, wet cloth to put over her eyes, and he turned off all the lights. He tried to arrange the sheets so she was as comfortable as possible, but even then she was miserable.

“Is Mommy sick today?” June asked, waiting for him outside the bedroom door.

“Yes, she is having one of her awful headaches,” Tomas said.

“I hate when she has those headaches,” June said. “She sounds like she is in so much pain.”

“Yes, she is,” Tomas said. “But there isn’t anything we can do except let her rest. Would you like to go to the park today?”

“Yes, Daddy,” June said. “It’s been almost a week since I’ve been to the park.”

“Well, it’s a nice enough day for it. The sun is out and it’s warmer than it was yesterday. Why don’t you go put on your jacket and we’ll go for a walk.”

“Okay, Daddy,” June said and went to her room to get her jacket.

Even through the door, he could hear one of his wife’s moans, and his heart went out to her. He was so used to being able to take care of matters, to getting things done, that it felt completely unnatural to him to be so ineffective.

There was medication for these maladies, he thought. But she was stubborn and would tell him the headaches didn’t happen often enough for her to go see a doctor. That it was just something she had to live with. No matter how much he tried to convince her otherwise.

“I’m all set,” June said, standing in the hallway in her jacket.

He got a coat from the hall closet, and they went outside to walk the two blocks to the park.

Graham shifted around a little inside the body, trying to get comfortable. Growing was painful stuff, and for this to work, he had to not only devour the innards of his host, but he had to replace those organs with working ones of his own. You couldn’t have a heart stopping or a kidney malfunctioning and give it all away. That would defeat the entire process if you gave it all away before the big finale. He had to make sure no differences were detected, no warning signs that something was wrong.

It was almost like being one of those pods from
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
(he preferred the Donald Sutherland version from 1978 himself, expertly directed by Philip Kaufman), where the aliens created an exact replica of you to replace you. Except Graham was not an alien creature, and didn’t have the luxury of working outside his subject. This was all an inside job, and demanded delicacy and intricacy. It was the hardest part of what he did, but also the most poetic aspect. Anyone could fire a gun or wield a knife, but for Graham, murder was like a sculpture using flesh as his medium.

The pain was getting to be a bit intense at this stage, but he kept himself busy, invading the body on a cellular level, acting as an intelligent, conscious wave of cancer cells, devouring healthy cells and replacing them with his own, stronger cells.

When he reached the dimensions of his host body, he had to know just when to stop growing. It wouldn’t do to outgrow the body you were inside, bursting it apart. That would ruin everything.

“Is Mommy feeling better today?” June asked her daddy as they watched Saturday morning cartoons.

“I’m afraid not, Juney Moony,” he said. “Her headache is still pretty bad.”

He had tried to talk Louise into going to the emergency room, since this had lasted two days already, but she had refused to listen to him. It had almost turned into a full-blown argument, except that he saw how much it hurt her to speak, much less shout, and the sound of his own booming voice was acting like a sledgehammer on her head. She had started whimpering, and he left the room. He even slept in the guestroom, something he rarely ever did. Even when they had normal arguments, they always had a rule that they would not go to bed angry with each other. It didn’t always work, but most times it did, and the make-up sex was worth it.

But this was the worst headache she had had in years.

Tomas felt so alone in that guest bed. It was smaller than his normal bed, and harder. It took him longer to fall asleep.

It wasn’t like he didn’t sleep on his share of hotel room beds when he was out traveling for his work, but when he was home, it was important that he sleep with his wife. He yearned to hold her close, to feel that connection between them. Knowing that he was a real, emotional human being, capable of love, went a long way to keeping him from really losing his shit.

There was a soft knock at the door, and he thought it was Louise, come to get him and bring him back to his own bed, but when he softly told the knocker to come in, it was June.

“Can I come sleep with you tonight, Daddy?” she asked. “I had some bad dreams.”

He was so uncomfortable in the guestroom that he wanted to tell her yes, but she was an eight-year-old now, and he felt strange permitting her to get into bed with him.

“No, Juney, you’re much too old for that,” he said. “Now go back to bed and get some sleep. You know that, after you have nightmares, the next time you go to sleep you’ll have nice dreams to balance them out.”

“Are you sure, Daddy?”

“Of course I am,” he told her, in a semi-whisper. “You’re a big girl now, and you know that nightmares aren’t real. Go back to sleep and forget about it.”

She stood there in the doorway, hesitating. He thought she was going to come into the room anyway, but she didn’t. He could barely see her in the darkness, but he could hear her breathing.

“June, are you still there?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I told you not to be afraid. Now go back to your room like a brave girl.”

She did not reply. She stood there for a few more minutes, and then he heard the door softly close and knew she had gone back to her own room.

She didn’t normally act that way. Even when she had bad dreams, she had been able to go back to sleep on her own. Maybe she was upset because Louise had been feeling so poorly, and she was worried about her mother. But it struck him as odd that she would come here like that, and ask to sleep with him.

June seemed so small just then, he thought. Like she was little again. Tiny and afraid.

It was so unlike the well-behaved little girl she had become, who usually seemed older than she was. The one who was always so smart and made him proud.

He stared up at where the ceiling was. But the room was so dark, he couldn’t see a thing. Staring like that, it was as dark as if he had his eyes closed.

Eventually, he fell asleep.