CHAPTER FIFTY
Gabriel
Gabriel is watching exactly what he was hoping for unraveling on the news.
“HAHA, Paul… get your ass in here!” He rolls his eyes when all three of them trample into the room. He points to the big holograph in Barry’s living room and turns the volume up. “I told you!”
There’s a huge throng of homeless people amassing on the streets in the old industrial sector. People are holding up signs with the outline of a robot and a red slash over it. Random people are shouting at the reporter’s camera while they’re trying to broadcast.“We're coming for you motherfuckers!” The reporter speculates on the cause of what can only be called “carnage” in a derelict squatter camp.
Eleven bodies have been recovered at the site, as well as most of another who was blown to shreds by a bomb that was detonated inside. The newsfeed cycles between a few other interviews being taken with homeless people and employees of the complex. They’re saying that the entire plant was taken offline by some kind of energy weapon. A detective on the scene states that there’s evidence of an antique electromagnetic generator having been used there.
The zealot fanatics claim that it was an orchestrated attack directed specifically at them, their way of life, and not at the steel mill. There are claims of three different attacks on various groups of the homeless having taken place throughout the night.
The next person they interview looks like he must’ve survived the worst of it. The young man can’t stand on his own and has to be held up by two others. The entire side of his face is purple, and one of his eyes is extremely bloodshot. When his friends take his jacket off up over his head, his shoulder, arm, and ribs on that same side are also heavily bruised.
“These robots, they look like people. They attacked me yesterday when I discovered them. They tried to kill me.”
The reporter still doesn’t believe them but asks anyway. “Where are these robots then? Did they escape? Where are they from?”
“I know where they came from. I’ll tell you!” He puts his face right up in the camera. The light is shining too closely on his face, turning it bright white. “They came from your almighty robot god, Werker, right here! I even have proof of who made them. Their names are Valerie Morgan, Marco Greco, and Mikel Hawkes! They made these robot assassins, they did this! They’re trying to wipe us all out!”
Gabriel blows the soda in his mouth across the room when Paul smacks him on the back of his head. “It’s part of the plan! It’s our long game! I swear!”
“You screwed us, Gabriel. You’re so done.”
“Hey, did you hear any of our names? Huh? I already gave Sabrina a heads-up on this, like two days ago.”
“Bullshit, how could this have been planned, you can’t plan for rats to do anything.”
“That’s not for you to worry about. They have nowhere to go now. They’ll never be able to return to Werker, and everyone’ll be looking for them.”
Paul wraps his hand over Gabriel’s forehead and pulls his head back so that he’s staring straight up at him. “And you don’t see that as a problem? What if someone else finds them before we do? What then?” He puts his foot on the edge of the big reclining chair and kicks the whole thing over while yelling in a gruff voice. “Get off your ass you little meatball, we’re goin’ huntin’!”
Gabriel spills out across the floor along with the bowl of chips he’d parked on his belly. He pretends to not be upset by their bullying, but he’s considering not bringing any of them back again after he’s done with them. First, he needs to find a way to take them all down at once, before they can wise up to him.
As much as he wants to make sure the three of them can be dealt with, he needs to get rid of Valerie’s group even more. He’s started a wildfire and he very well might get caught up in it himself if he doesn’t handle the others first.
Mikel and the others have all only just sat down at his place to recover when Clarice turns on the news. The first thing they see is some asshole telling everyone that’s watching what all their names are.
“GOD DAMN IT!” He kicks over the coffee table and throws his arms up in the air. “Get up off your asses, all of you! No fuckin’ naps today!"
Everyone is already so worn down, the last thing they want to do is have to find a new place to hunker down again. When no one immediately gets up, he grabs the edge of the couch and shakes it fiercely, startling them up. He continues raging on until everyone’s clearly gotten his point.
“The whole goddamn world knows where we are right now everybody!” He grabs a bunch of the bags they’d packed earlier and storms out to load them in the truck. “I’ll be waiting outside, and I’d better not have to come back in here for anyone.”
Outside they can hear the truck fire up. Even over the sound of the diesel engine, they can hear him losing his shit in the cab. Arma scoops up Alexis again to load her in first. She only whimpers a little bit from the pain, and is holding it back as best she can. The large bruises all over her body have fully ripened into swaths of blue and purple on her pale skin. Valerie has no problem moving about on her own, but her face is not something to look at for very long. She tries to not speak to anyone while her lip is super-glued together.
They all saunter out to their vehicles and promptly follow Mikel down the road. By the time they make it a quarter-mile from the house, they see the first of the news vans speeding in the direction of Mikel’s house. They find it rather funny how the media has a better response time than the police these days. No one has any ideas where to go yet. Their faces have surely been made public by now and they can’t just try checking into a motel or dare trying to take the freeway out of town.
While Clarice is driving, Valerie is on the phone with everyone to keep them on the same page. She hates calling on Evan every time she’s in a spot, but it is all she can think to do. He’s the only one left who knows about the project, she can trust, and hasn’t yet been linked to the whole debacle they’re in. She calls him up and explains their situation to him in as few words as she can.
It turns out that he’s also been watching the news, and was worried to hell about what might’ve happened to them. Without her asking, he offers them shelter and when Arma conveys the message to Mikel, he steps on the gas. She recites Evans's address and tells him to hide his truck in the garage when he gets there. The doors will all be open and ready.
While going well over the posted limits, they all reach Evan’s home in less than fifteen minutes. When they pull down the short driveway of his estate, even Valerie is second-guessing whether they have the address correct. The place is almost a mansion. She never knew how much he made at AMF, but it must’ve been a lot more than she could’ve ever expected. It makes sense though. Anyone with a high level of skill that can’t be rivaled by a machine tends to make the best money. The realistic and individual appearances he’s been able to achieve on customer’s orders has given him a name known around the world.
His home is set in a large and beautifully landscaped parcel amongst many others surrounding a public park. All of the houses in the area have either high rock walls or ornate wrought iron fences surrounding them. All of the properties are well adorned with leafy vines crawling on everything and the neighborhood has an aura of decadence to it. As they get closer to his place, the large iron gate out front of his home automatically opens.
On the right side of Evan’s big home, all three bay doors of the garage are open for them. They don’t bother crawling down his driveway politely as they should either. The three cars barrel across the gravel and into the building, screeching to a halt inside. Evan is standing outside with a remote, waiting for them. It is kind of funny seeing him standing there in such nice leisurely clothes, and with his hands on his hips. He even looks pleased to see them, not as if they’re all about to wreck his life too. It’s after he sees Valerie’s face that he becomes quite upset.
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“Oh, no, no, no, who did this to you, my sweet girl.” He’s shaking his head and trying to cup her face in his hands, but she won’t let him. “Who does this to a beautiful woman?”
“Don’t fuss about me, Evan, it’s hardly a worry compared to what they did to Marco.”
“What? What’d they do to him?” He looks around at all of them, searching for him. “Where is Marco?”
She walks past him, not in the mood to go into the details right there in the garage. “Last I saw, he was all over the place. He didn’t make it, Evan.”
Arma walks by, following her. She stops beside Evan for a mere second, presenting Alexis to him, who looks even rougher than Valerie. They plucked all of the debris out, and her bleeding has stopped, but pretty much all of the clothes she’s wearing are now caked in dark dried blood. Evan quickly ushers them inside the house and gets them all situated comfortably in his living room.
Despite what’s happened, neither Five nor Arma are worn down or have lost their sense of curiosity. They have to be reminded of their manners when they begin to poke about inside Evan’s home. The whole house is beautifully decorated in paintings, statues, and various antiquities. The main room is dimly lit in colorful light by the stained glass windows of the cathedral ceilings. The two have a hard time not fawning over every little wonderment.
While Evan shows Clarice to the guest rooms upstairs, Valerie and Alexis quickly pass out on the couches. Aaron and Mikel grab everyone’s things and head upstairs as well. When they all come back down, Five is staring in awe at the walls. Her eyes light up and then she rushes back into the garage. She returns with the painting from Aaron’s apartment and holds it up to compare to another one there.
“It is the same, Aaron. The same person painted both of them.” Evan catches on and excitedly scurries over to her. He is rather emotional when he finds that she has a piece of his work that he had sold way back when he was a young and struggling artist.
Five beams at Evan as she tells him all about it. “You have no idea how much Aaron prizes this painting. He told me that he spent a week figuring out where it was done. He knew it had to be a real place, here in Welan.”
Aaron tries to hide his embarrassment but still has quite a boyish smile. “Some of the buildings had changed since when you painted it, but I still found the spot.”
Evan is overjoyed that he was the one who had ended up with it, and that the two pieces have been reunited. He fetches a sealable bag from his studio for her to put it in and keep safe. “When I pass one day, this painting will surely be worth a life’s fortune.”
Aaron looks at his painting, and then to the one that’s on Evan’s wall. “I have all the time in the world to make money, Evan. I don’t think I could ever part with it.”
Before Five takes it back out to the truck, she pauses and looks back at Evan. “If you only knew how much it means to me that I was painted by the same person as who did this piece. It makes me feel like… I’ve always been precious to someone.”
Clarice wakes Valerie and Alexis to give them some of Evan’s leftover pain medication. Alexis initially refuses until she sees Valerie take some first, then she requests twice as much. When she coaxes the two of them, Alexis can trudge up the stairs on her own just fine. She’s beaten, but she’s not broken. Upstairs, each has their own full-sized bathrooms, each with separate tubs and glass showers in them. Alexis is in awe of everything she sees. She had no idea a single person could have so much all on their own.
She stands in front of the shower looking at it for some time. The entire thing is made of maroon patterned marble and half-inch thick glass plate, wrapping most of the way around. All of the controls are either voice-activated or touch holographic. There isn’t a single knob inside. Out of embarrassment, she doesn’t admit that she has no idea how to make it turn on but Clarice can tell and kindly shows her how to operate it. Alexis immediately defends herself, feeling like she must look like ignorant scum.
“It’s not like I’ve never taken a shower before. Just not in one so fancy, like this.”
Clarice has only turned around for a moment to hand Alexis a fresh towel off the shelf and she’s already standing completely naked in front of her. Her dry bloody clothes are so stiff, they are nearly husks. She stands there stunned by Alexis’s muscular body as she holds the towel out for her. Trying to not just stand there and gawk, she starts randomly focusing her eyes on other things in the room. If it weren’t for her perfect complexion and feminine face, she would’ve suspected her of taking some kind of serious performance drugs. When she realizes that she’s staring again, she quickly turns away.
Alexis has seen the same looks many times before. She stiffly steps over the small threshold into the shower and turns the heat up more, fogging the glass.
“Back in the day, my father had been part of a gene therapy trial for a supposed sports medicine developer. At the time, it was common for desperate people to be coaxed into risky drug trials. When he was promised free and effortless muscle gains, he and many others leapt at the opportunity. They hardly paid him a damn thing. What they didn’t tell him was that the effects would also be permanently passed down to his heirs. It wasn’t long after the experiment ended that he overdosed on drugs he’d bought with the money.”
“What about your mother?” There is an awkward and long pause. She knows that Alexis heard her, but it seems she doesn’t want to talk about it and instead, she resumes where she left off.
“The lab that he’d been taken to was eventually dismantled by the authorities and no one else took up the experiment after that. As far as I know, I was the only one to have been conceived by any of the participants. Basically, my genes were modified to have an extreme Myostatin protein receptor deficiency. My body can’t break down muscle, unless I like, starve or something. I have to restrict my food intake to very small and properly proportioned amounts to keep my weight under control. If I don’t I’ll probably just keep getting bigger until I die of a heart attack.”
“Wow, that must be hard to deal with.” When Clarice turns to leave her to herself, Alexis hears her and pokes her face out around the glass.
“Could you stay, please, keep me company, maybe just keep talking to me?” In her culture, women have to look out for one another in such circumstances. At least two other armed women usually stand guard whenever one of them is left to bathe. “I know I’m safe here, with you, but I’ve always had someone looking out for me when I’m…”
“Vulnerable.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s ok, I can stay. So, tell me what it’s been like, being… like you.”
“Despite being gifted in my own ways, homelessness is all I’ve ever known. Whenever a person loses everything, our people are always there with open arms to take them in. Whenever one of us wants to try living a normal life though, it’s not so easy.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
For most of us, homelessness means more than just hard times. It keeps us all bonded together in solidarity. We’re not just a bunch of scroungers like everyone thinks. We live by the old ways and stick to ourselves, and our homes are made of family and friends, not just bricks. Sure, there are bad people amongst us, but we don’t prey on each other, ever. People from outside do that enough already. People think we’re stupid, and that no one cares about us. They think that when we go missing, no one’ll look for us or do anything.”
“That’s kind of how this all started I think. It’s all such a big mess. One of our… robots went missing. We blamed it on you guys, then our friends got killed because of it. Some of you guys tried to kill us, then we went after you… it all goes back and forth.”
When Alexis steps out of the shower, she picks her crusty shirt and starts trying to wash it in the sink. Clarice has to stop her and wraps the towel around her. She takes her to her room and opens up her luggage. Without even checking, she knows Alexis would never be able to fit her huge quads into any of her skinny pants. The best she can do is give her some underwear, socks, and a light grey pair of yoga shorts.
When Alexis puts them on, they stretch a good amount but seem to fit well enough. She feels bad that she couldn’t come up with anything that would cover all the bruising on her legs. She cannot believe how well she’s able to push through the obvious pain she’s in. The medication must be working incredibly well.
Clarice hurries across the hall and brings back a white sports bra that was meant for Arma and hands it to her. Arma was never going to be able to fit in it. Once Alexis is back in her boots, and they’re laced up tight, it looks like a whole load has been lifted off of her. She feels kind of bad for her. It’s obvious that her boots are another one of her security fixations. She couldn’t imagine having to wear boots all night and day just to be prepared for something bad to happen.
When Mikel swings by to check on Clarice, he finds her lying next to Alexis on the bed. Both of them are asleep. She looks to have passed out while reading on her phone. He leaves them be and decides to check on Aaron and Valerie. They’re both in their room together getting cleaned up. Their clothes are all laying in a heap on the floor, and they are shredded, bloody, and covered in dust.
He can hear the two of them talking and even quietly laughing in the shower together. He was going to call out to them that he’s going to go ahead and get Five and Arma situated in their room, but he doesn’t want to intrude. Their bathroom door is slightly cracked and he can hear Valerie talking softly. “Whoa, that is… whoo, a little slower…” He quickly closes the door, not wanting to hear any more of what they’re doing in there.
As he makes his way down the stairs, to round up the other two, he hears Five nitpicking with Arma. “Put a shirt on already, sheesh!” Arma is goading her by jiggling her bare breasts in front of her. She has her arms over her head and is twisting her hips and body to make them move back and forth. It doesn’t help that they are nearly at eye-level with her too.
Quite amused with Arma's humor, he stands at the base of the stairs watching, and trying his best to not burst into laughter. Both of them freeze when they realize he’s standing there. He couldn't hold back a chuckle. He holds his arm out straight and sternly points a finger up the stairs. “You should be upstairs charging, like Aaron is doing.” Without any fuss, they march up to their room ahead of him. Five shoves Arma through their doorway while she leers back at Mikel. Her eyes are accusing him of being a creeper.