Murder Genes Page 5

  Bob, one of the several big men with red bands standing on the side wall, gave Gamer a delighted look. He was missing more than half his teeth. Jay then noticed that nearly every man showing teeth was missing at least a third of his. It made sense, with all the teeth lying around, it had to come from somewhere.

  Jay realized what Gamer was ordering.

  "Nwo!" Jay yelled. "Iz MUy faltt!"

  But Karah walked obediently to the table where she pulled a cheek back, revealing a row of missing teeth, the empty space almost coming around to the vamp tooth.

  Eager Bob took the mallet in one hand and put the end of the wooden piece against her back tooth. Without warning, he slammed it hard with far more force than necessary. Karah's head whipped back and hung in an extended position for seconds. Her head slowly carried itself upright and she glared at Jay before spitting on the ground. Bloody bits and a tooth.

  "Huy Frekckles!" Jay yelled. "Whyy ca..."

  Gamer cut him off. "The Game wasn't created by us in Morir." He leaned forward and rested his chin on the barrel of the rifle. Jay willed the trigger to magically pull and blow the kid's head off. He actually willed it. What kind of messed mind created this kind of world? A world already damned enough on its own?

  "The Game," Gamer continued, "was created by the government. They set up the situation perfectly, putting the need and desire in all of us to survive, and then creating an environment of desperation so that we'd turn against each other and ultimately, create a system." Gamer sighed. "A system always forms when stress is put on an environment. It's nature."

  What are you talking about? Jay thought. You aren't even fighting the system, you're encouraging it.

  "The Game is the ultimate system," Gamer said. "If you don't follow the system, the system turns against you. If you rebel against the system, there is consequence."

  "Screw yew," Jay said.

  Gamer nodded like he was accepting Jay's words. "I follow the rules of the Game because it's my system, my genes. The Game follows the rules of the government outside, to satisfy and confirm their suspicions, their ego, that we are no better than animals." He chuckled. "They're probably right. And you," Gamer stopped, holding Jay in a sudden and emotionless stare, "are in MY system. You obey the rules of our team. For the good of the team, for the survival of the team. Without cooperation in the team, we will lose to the other teams and the other Gamers. We will die."

  "Arn't yuu a althuthisthich bathdard." Jay was going for 'altruistic bastard.'

  Gamer stood up, holding the rifle. Jay momentarily wondered where Gamer had gotten it. He walked right up to Jay, putting it on Jay's forehead. "Will you work in our system, for the good of our team?"

  I have to survive, I have to survive, I have to survive for Kyle. But the words that came out weren't about survival, they were about anger, injustice, and the hate he felt. Maybe the guilt for killing Paul. Regardless, it was fucking stupid. "Goe two hellw," Jay said.

  Gamer shrugged. "All right, then. We'll see you there."

  This is it. Jay closed his eyes.

  Then ducked faster than he knew he could and smashed Gamer with a right hook. The gun went off. Jay's thoughts paused only long enough to realize he was still moving. He lunged for the weapon. Red-banded men caught his arms and twisted his shoulders till they popped in their sockets.

  Gamer stumbled back. He swung the butt of the gun in an enraged arc, smashing it to the side of Jay's head. Jay's head exploded again, his teeth rattled, and the pain in his face and jaw multiplied.

  His senses sharpened and the painkiller fuzziness faded all at once.

  Jay dodged just in time. Another gunshot and the bullet grazed his scalp. Someone let out a scream nearby.

  "Hold him!" Gamer yelled.

  By now, five men were on Jay, and Jay wouldn't have been able to fall to the ground if he wanted to. He struggled, but couldn't move. Jay noticed the boy Bitch just watching him with a curious look, his head tilted to the side like he was observing an interesting puzzle.

  Gamer took the gun in both hands and pointed it at Jay's chest. "Die!" he snarled.

  A voice interrupted. "Give him a fucking chance, Gamer. He's an idiot, but at least use him for something." It was Karah.

  Jay looked at her. Are you saving my life?

  Gamer's finger hovered on the trigger. "You could take his place."

  "I'm too valuable and you know it," she said. "I've seen enough people to know that he's one that could matter. For the team. If any bondsman could make it, it's this dumb ass. You just saw the way he moved. And if you haven’t noticed, he's doped up."

  Jay raised an eyebrow at her. She ignored him, but her face looked disgusted.

  Gamer just waited, his finger stroked the trigger. "Are you asking me for a favor?" he finally said.

  She crossed her arms. Her eyes were rough and she tapped a foot, hesitating. "Sure," she answered after a moment.

  Gamer smirked and pulled the rifle away, straightening. "Strap our new toy to his neck, we'll use him one way or another," he ordered. "By the time I'm done, he better know the rules for the drop and the flags."

  By the time you’re done?

  Gamer walked over to Karah and spun her around, shoving her to her knees. He took one hand and jerked at her jeans from the back. It took two or three shoves, but he got it just low enough. She wasn't wearing anything underneath.

  If there is one thing about youth, it's that it doesn't take long to get hard as cement. Gamer rode her like a horse, pulling on her breasts like fucking reins and whooping and slobbering on her back. He withdrew suddenly, and then shoved forward again. Karah let out a gasp and her face twisted in pain.

  Jay looked away.

  "Can't be getting you pregnant now can we?" Gamer's voice said.

  Karah saved him for no reason he could guess. Jay had to survive for Kyle, but this made him feel like just the opposite of a knight in shining armor.

  He ground his teeth together, feeling the pain shoot through his face. She'd bought him his life and a chance. What was he going to say? No?

  The men watching jeered and jerked at their dicks until one of them realized they were supposed to be doing something.

  Like tie a homemade bomb that blinked at regular intervals to Jay's neck. They made sure that he understood the rules.

  Problem was, Jay didn't listen so well.

  Chapter 7

  With the advent of the so-called "Entrepreneurial Gene," research to discover more about Behavioral Genetics and the possible manipulation of genetic factors of human behavior has taken the world by storm. Between government-funded research and privatized humanitarian institutes, the discovery of several new and similar genes of behavior has changed the way we view fate and predestination. Tradition religious organizations continue to oppose the scientific theories of Genetic Fatalism and the obvious question is being raised. How far, really, is genetic code deterministic to our behavior?

  Dear Churches: Could it be that "born again Christians" are simply "born Christian?"

  Tongue-in-cheek may not be as far-fetched as we imagine...

  -Thallen, Tim. "Genetic Fatalism: The Future of Science." Nature, Apr 03, 2014.

  Kyle pretended to be interested in the toy action figure Del had bought him. It was of an army soldier bulging with muscles without gun or grenade on him. More of a 'weight lifter' figure than 'action' figure, really.

  "Just sign it, Tim," Del said.

  "You realize what you're asking me to do, don't you?" Tim’s hand hovered over the piece of paper. "If we're caught, forging medical records is the end of our careers."

  Del's hands wrapped Tim's and gently lowered the pen to the page. "We can have a son, now, without waiting years for an audit to come around again. And you know that if you've been refused once, statistical chances of acceptance drops by eighty percent. Even if they did say yes it'd take months of trying."

  "But lying, Del."

  "We wouldn't lie about anything else. We foun
d an abandoned child and rather than go to a shelter he wants to stay with us. That's perfectly legal." She stroked the hair over Tim's ear.

  "What if he does have The Code?"

  "We don't believe in The Code, remember? Now they're saying that North Korea, the whole country, has The Code. The UN wants to put a country into Morir. A little suspicious, isn't it? Since North Korea refused to cooperate and get tested--now everyone in that country is contaminated? It was strange enough with how big they built Morir in the first place."

  "Don't you think we should test him anyway? Just to know?"

  "He's a smart boy. If we test him and he's clean, he'll believe we love him only because he's clean. If he's not, how couldn't we treat him differently? We had to test him but honestly don't care about the results? We'd be lying to ourselves and to Kyle. We love him because of who he is and not because of what's in his genes."

  Kyle propped himself from the floor onto his elbows as he took the figure, twisting a leg forward to make the soldier run. The leg came off with a sudden pop and Kyle sucked in his breath. He hid the figure underneath his chest and tried to push the leg back into place, squeezing at the plastic futilely.

  Kyle heard Tim grunt as pen scratched paper. "How do we prove it if they ask?"

  "They won't. We're established medical professionals out testing everyone for The Code, how could they doubt us? Kyle," Del said. "Come here."

  Kyle climbed to his feet, holding the broken soldier behind his back. He sheepishly came forward. He held it out. "I accidentally broke it. I'm sorry."

  Tim frowned but Del laughed. "It's OK, Kyle. I used to take my Barbies apart intentionally. Give it." She waved her hand.

  He handed it to her and she gave the soldier's leg a quick squeeze and twist. "See? Good as new." She held it back to him. Kyle took it, moving the leg but being careful not to pull too hard. "Now Kyle, we need you to stay here for a bit. We need to run a few errands. Can you promise to wait inside?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. I won't move an inch."

  She ruffled his hair. "Oh, you can move, as long as you stay inside. There are cookies on the counter wrapped up. I'm sure you'll want to move to get at them."

  Kyle nodded. "OK, Ma'am."

  Del smiled at him and patted his head. "Good boy." They opened the trailer door where Del paused. "When I get back, you call me 'Mom.'"

  He frowned. "That's weird. I never really had a mom."

  She gave him the saddest look. She smiled. "Well, you will in a few hours. For the rest of your life. And a new Pa, too."

  There was another grunt outside from Tim. "Let's get this over with."

  The door swung closed and clicked locked. Kyle immediately pulled himself waist up on the counter and shimmied his way around to a plate of cookies by the sink, wrapped in foil. He grabbed one and paused before tearing off a bit of foil. Then he was back on the ground, his soldier equipped with a silver gun. "No more weights for you," Kyle said, flinging the figure backwards because of the insane recoil from the alien gun. "Whooooaaa, now that's what I call firepower!"

  He needed another cookie.

  Kyle bunched Sergeant Jay into a fist and hopped up to the counter again, kicking and pulling his way up to sit cross-legged on the counter. He plopped himself by the plate and began fashioning a suit of alien armor.

  "Psst!"

  Kyle lifted his head. There was an open window above the sink near his head. He leaned and peered out. A monster appeared in front of his face. Wiggling tendrils and tongue and a loud "Blaaaah" made Kyle fall back and hit his head on the corner of a cupboard. "Ow!"

  The monster dropped her hands and she covered her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry!" It was the girl Kyle had seen earlier during the blood draw.

  Kyle rubbed his head and glared at the cupboard that had assaulted him. "It's all right. You scared me."

  She gave him a big grin. "Yup I did!"

  "It's OK to be scared, you know? Nothing wrong with that. Only really brave people admit they are scared, and dumb people don't when they really are." Pa had said that to him whenever Kyle was too scared to try something. It always helped.

  "I know." She wobbled in the widow a bit. "Thanks for being nice last week. And for the cookie."

  He pushed open the window more and pushed his face to the screen to see what she was standing on. She had a bunch of cardboard boxes stacked up on the trailer's side. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

  "I recognized the trailer and I thought you might be here and wanted to see. Didn't know you'd be alone, though. My brother's here with me.” She frowned. “Somewhere. Where are your parents?"

  She seemed trustworthy. "They aren't my parents. I was lying. They want to be my parents though, at least Del does."

  "The nice lady?"

  "Yeah. Where'd you get the boxes?"

  "There's a dumpster around the corner with a whole bunch of them."

  "Ah," Kyle pressed his face harder into the screen. "Hey, I don't know your name."

  "I'm C..."

  "No no no, wait. We have to do this right. Watch out." When she leaned back, Kyle kicked the screen, knocking a corner loose. He went butt first through the window, his leg feeling for the box. He felt a pat on his low back.

  "You can drop now."

  He stopped kicking. "Oh." He dropped. But when he did the box rocked. And then he was falling. He heard her cry out and Kyle hit the ground. There was a box around his waist. He pushed it off. The girl lay beside him and he got up and knelt beside her. "Are you OK?"

  She rolled, and looked at him. "Oooh." She grimaced. "Yeah, I think so."

  He took her wrist and felt at the thumb side. "Strong pulse, you'll be fine."

  "You're smart," she said.

  He winked. "Yup, my Pa taught me that. He also taught me how to push on someone's chest if there’s no pulse."

  "I've seen that on movies."

  "Yeah, but they actually do it wrong. It's dangerous if you do it when they don't need it," Kyle said. He helped her to her feet and held out a hand. "I'm Kyle."

  "Callie," she answered, taking his hand. They shook.

  "How old are you, Callie?"

  "Nine, almost."

  "I'm ten." Almost.

  She nodded.

  "You're kinda cute when you aren't crying," he said in his best tough man voice. "I felt bad for you when Tim had you."

  She gave him a sour frown. "He gave my arm a bruise." She showed him. Her upper arm had a tinge of green on the inside. "But I have a lot of bruises, so dad didn't even notice." She pulled up her pant leg and leaned away, pulling up her shirt. There were black and green splotches all over her.

  "How'd you get those?" Some looked newer than others.

  "Da says I play too hard. Mom...she's been gone a while."

  "Does your dad hit you?"

  She shook her head. Then brightened. "Hey! Let's go for a walk! There's a lake nearby with ducks and birds and squirrels and things."

  Kyle stopped. Uh oh. "I'm supposed to stay inside." He looked at the window he had come out of and the broken boxes below. How was he going to get back in?

  "I'll help you back up. But only if you walk with me first." Callie grinned, took his hand and pulled at it. "C'mon, let's go!"

  He saw her green-blue eyes sparkle and with one last glance at the window he went with her. They walked to a dirt road trail that circled a lake shaped like a horseshoe. "Soooo, where are your real parents?"

  He looked at her bright hair and then at their clasped hands. He pulled his hand away. "You aren't a spy, are you?"

  She shook her head. "Nope. Why? Are you in trouble?"

  "Not me. Not really," he said. "My mom's dead, dad...he's in Murderer City."

  "Your dad's a murderer?"

  "No! He's never killed anyone. I promise." He put a hand next to his mouth and whispered to her. "That's why I lied. People are after me too and I haven't killed anyone, either. Del and Tim say they are going to protect me."

  Her eyes were big, and her mo
uth formed a large 'O'.

  "Don't act so surprised. Someone might see," he warned severely.

  She snapped her mouth closed and nodded.

  "Are you afraid?"

  She shook her head hard from side to side. "No. You're one of the nicest people I've ever met." She suddenly leaned forward and planted a solid, and wet, kiss on his cheek.

  He wiped it off.

  She pouted.

  So he took her hand again.

  They made their way around the lake, stopping to chase after a duck that quacked alarm and retreated into the lake. When he saw the duck he laughed.

  "What?" Callie asked.

  "Pa used to tell me something. He'd tell me to be like a duck."

  She made a face at him that wrinkled her nose silly like. "Why would you want to be a duck?"

  Kyle grinned. "Calm on the surface--kick like hell underneath."

  She giggled. "Your dad sounds nice."

  "Yeah..." Kyle trailed off. "He really was." On a whim he glanced at the trailer. A blue two-seater car that Del and Tim drove was driving up the distant road. "I have to go," he said urgently.

  Callie followed his gaze and nodded. Together they ran toward the trailer, he slowed a bit for her but kept pulling so she'd keep up. They laughed at each other. Then they stopped. A boy a few years older than them appeared standing in the path. He had a scowl on his face and his arms crossed, light blond hair and a mole on his cheek. He looked a lot like Callie.

  "Jeff!" Callie said. She looked afraid.

  "What do you think you're doing, sis?" the boy said, angry.

  Kyle stepped in front of her. "We were just going for a walk. What's it to you?"

  The boy stalked forward and grabbed his shoulder, throwing him to the side. Kyle stumbled, tripping to the ground.

  "I..." Callie said, not finishing.

  Jeff hit her, right on the face. Not even a slap but a full on punch. Callie fell.

  Kyle scrambled to his feet as fast as he could. Like a duck. He ran forward and threw his weight at the boy, shoving Jeff a few steps back. "Hey, back off! You didn't have to hit her." Kyle positioned himself above Callie, standing as tall as he could. He reached back, keeping his eyes on the older boy and offered her a hand. "Are you OK, Callie?"