Chapter Sixteen
Oliver Kash
I don’t know why I did it. I almost don’t remember the event. The only source which justifies the pit in my stomach is the pounding ache spreading through the back of my head. The stupid needle they pressed into my skull. That needle triggered those actions.
There comes a point where I can no longer lay in bed. I find Sykes, ask them to meet me on the rooftop. An open-aired terrace, we only step outside in dire situations.
The moment I smell the petroleum-filled air, I spot two figures on the edge of the building. “Hey, Sykes,” I yell, “what’s with the girl?”
Aviana twists around, hair frizzy from the wind. I step forward, staring only at Sykes.
“Chill, Olly. It’s not like Aviana’s going to tell anyone what we say.”
I laugh because they do.
“Plus, Aviana’s one of us. They know.”
I hang an arm around their shoulders and step between them and Aviana. “Sorry about your weapon,” I say.
“Everyone’s alright now. That’s what matters.”
“Dr. Ibrahim hates me.” I sigh and rub the edges of my beard. “Dr. Lomax is going to hate me more.”
“Eh, what are they going to do?” Sykes asks, writhing free from my arm and stepping from the roof’s edge. “They need people like you and me. It’s not like they’ll banish you from the property. You are the property.”
Aviana starts laughing. It’s a scary replica of a wild bird or insect. The moment they stop, the door hinges squeak and footsteps slide against the concrete. We both turn. Hollis, slightly confused, waves at me and walks to Sykes.
“Oh yeah,” Sykes says. “I forgot. I invited her too. Hey, Hollie.”
“Hollie?” I ask. “Is that what you call her now? What does she have to do with the situation?”
Hollis steps faster until she reaches the edge of the balcony. “Plenty,” she says, tilting her head to the busy street. “I covered for you when you fainted. And carried you back to your room.”
“Ooh,” Sykes says, raising eyebrows dramatically.
“Not like that, dummy,” she says with a scowl. “Evidently we’re cousins.”
I drop my jaw and tug her shirt collar. “I thought I dreamed that,” I say. She snorts loudly.
“Nope. Dr. Ibrahim told us, remember?”
“Dude,” Sykes exclaims, cupping hands around their mouth and nose, “far out. I’ve never heard of a human and chimera family.”
“It just has something to do with our genes,” I say. Aviana appears invested; we lock eyes. “The DNA.”
Hollis puckers her lips and brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “Have you spoken to Dr. Ibrahim? Since you woke up.”
“She yelled at me, if that’s what you mean,” I say quietly. “Have you talked to her?”
She shrugs. “I’ve been alone since the incident. In my room.”
“Sounds boring.”
“That’s why I’m up here,” she says stiffly.
I wait for her to continue arguing, for Sykes to intervene, while Aviana strolls across the ground. They close and open the entrance as if listening for doctors. I don’t blame their caution.
Sykes hangs an arm around Hollis’s shoulder and blows long hair out of their face. “Why are you still here, if this place is so boring to you?”
She shrugs. Before she can answer, I snort a laugh.
“Oh look, for once she’s speechless,” I say. Sykes boos.
“Shut up Olly. Wait.” Their eyes grow wide. “Hollie and Olly. I like it.”
Refusing to answer, I roll my eyes and watch Aviana again. Their quiet motions captivate me until I hear a low whine from behind.
“Good grief, I don’t know why I’m here,” Hollis yells. She appears as if she wants to cry. I lean back, cross my arms at my chest.
“They’re paying you good money, at least,” I say. “Aren’t you trying to afford college?”
“What college,” she snaps. “I don’t go to any university. I just said that so the doctors wouldn’t get suspicious.”
Sykes drops the arm from her neck, and their excitement fades into shock. “So…you lied to physicians. Were you even sick?”
“My gosh,” she screams. She backs up, almost to the point of running off the balcony. “Of course I was sick, no one would go through a surgery like that without purpose.”
“Then tell me what you plan to use the money for,” I say. I feel the pounding ache in my head, the sore muscles at my side, and grow furious at the thought of risking my life for a liar. I wonder if everyone I’ve donated to has used me like this.
And I thought Bywyd took advantage of me.
She looks across the roof, past Aviana, to the buildings that create the skyline of Swansea. Her answer takes a while.
“For myself,” she says calmly. “To move out. I didn’t tell a complete lie, I really was sick…and my house isn’t safe.”
“You mean your family,” I clarify.
She nods. I watch the ligaments in her neck tense. “My father. He’s not abusive, really, but he has some nasty habits. Sometimes he gets out of control.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I say. “At least you have parents.”
“At least you have people who take care of you,” she says, eyes narrowed. “I’m neglected. When they learned about my illness, my parents did nothing. Told me I needed to grow up and move on.”
Sykes bursts with laughter. “That’s ridiculous,” they say. “Your mother and father really did that to you? What about your siblings?”
“I’m an only child. You ever read the Harry Potter series? It’s like I’m stuck with the Dursley family, except there is no Dudley.”
She sighs heavily, wraps her arms around the edge of the balcony, and continues to stare at the skyline. It’s growing dark and evening shadows shield the sunlight from my body. I start to shiver.
“I’m sorry, Hollis,” I mutter. “Guess there will be no family for me to live with either.”
“Huh?”
“Since we are cousins.”
“Yeah, don’t count on my parents to take you in.”
As soon as the sun is fully set, I go back inside. Aviana follows, wide face glowing with timidity. Before they return to her apartment and I return to mine, I speak their name.
“Hey,” I say. “You don’t have to be so afraid of them, you know.”
Aviana’s eyes blink multiple times.
“The doctors. Bywyd. They don’t care about us that much. Don’t let them have control over you.”
They scoff and after a moment slip into the apartment. I wonder what offended them. Why they appeared so misplaced on the rooftop.
When I enter my apartment, I see Rensis Ibrahim sitting at my kitchen table. The smile on his face is aggravating.
“Hello, Nurse…Doctor Ibrahim,” I say, noticing his white coat. “What is it?”
“Oliver. I was wondering when you would show up.” He stands and walks closer.
“Just out with Aviana and Sykes.” I move and place a hand on the kitchen wall, preventing the doctor from moving to my living room. “Why are you here?”
“Actually,” he says, “I’m saving you from a heap of trouble. Corporate asked me to justify your case. There are several punishments a murderer deserves.”
I think about his wife, the screams and threats and anger she hurled. A numb cold shatters my chest.
“You want to use me,” I say, “for some terrible experiment.”
“Yes and no.” He steps from the counter. “There will be an experiment, but only to help you. There is a new drug that supposedly lessens the effects of schizophrenia.”
“You’re kidding.” I kick the edge of a chair. “Dr. Ibrahim, I went crazy because corporate injected me with meds. I never wanted to kill Rollo. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Why should I be punished?”
He puts a finger to his lips. “Shh. Relax. Corporate wanted me to proceed with the brain transplant, but I won’t make you go through that. Yet.”
I scratch the edge of my chin. Prickly hairs stand on end. “You’re serious?”
The doctor nods.
“And as compensation?”
“I’ll get Tabia to change her mind about you. Heck, I’ll make corporate stop bothering you for a while. Trust me, I mean it.”
He dips his hand in his white coat pocket and pulls out a set of keys. Walking towards my door, he gestures that I follow.
“Right now?” I ask.
“You won’t be the only one I use. I’m collecting a few more chimeras. As controls.”
“You sure this is alright? Corporate won’t excommunicate you or anything.”
Rensis laughs and slaps my back. “Good one, Oliver. No, I’m one of the big-wigs now. I’ve been voted into corporate. They won’t question me.”
The lab is not empty when we arrive. Two chimeras sit side-by-side. Felt disks stick to their foreheads and chests.
“Take a seat, Oliver. I’m sure you remember Candace and Jillian.”
I do know the chimeras. I haven’t heard from them in weeks.
“So…they’re joining me? I’m not alone.”
Rensis points stiffly to the seat. “Yes, I told you this already. Sit down.”
Mouth closed, I plop against the chair and allow the doctor to come near with a fistful of sticky pads. He peels away my shirt, presses them against my chest. The monitor next to me beeps rhythmically.
“Candace, I’ll use you as the control; Jillian, you’re with Oliver,” Rensis explains. He points to a projected image. “I’ll turn the lights off and show you a series of pictures. Some modest, some graphic. You don’t need to respond to these. That’s what the monitors are for.”
Candace sighs. “What exactly are we doing, then?”
The doctor chuckles. “Patience, kid.” He flips off the light switch. A black-and-white image glows against the wall; Jillian giggles.
“That’s a whale,” they say, voice mocking a child’s. “Oh no, a whale, I’m triggered.”
“I said no responses,” Rensis yells. He returns to his tablet and taps. An incandescent splatter replaces the muted photograph. After the abstract, a classical painting. The chubby angel pierces a man with an iron spike. Jillian squeezes the arm of the chair. Rensis approaches them.
“Would you say that others can control what you think?” he asks. “Do you let people control what you feel?”
Jillian remains silent. Their lower lip curls into their upper. To avoid the doctor’s gaze, their jaw eventually loosens. “Yes. Always.”
I want to slap the chimera. “Are you stupid?” I blurt. “You know what he’s going to say. We don’t have emotions.”
Rensis shifts to me. “Smart mouth. I wasn’t asking you.”
“But I’m right.”
He nods. The picture switches to another vintage photograph. A wrinkled woman stares into the camera, impoverished children scattered at her side. I’ve seen similar pictures.
“Tell me the truth,” Rensis says, tablet directed to me, “have you ever seen or heard things that others claim aren’t there?”
“You’re asking if I’ve hallucinated,” I say, feeling a sticker slide down my collarbone. The movement itches. I slide it up. “No. Other than lucid dreaming, maybe.”
“What do you call Rollo’s murder?” he asks, leaning forward.
“I told you. The meds made me crazy.” I watch him press his tablet. “Anyways, I never hallucinated. Sykes was there. You can ask them.”
“Sykes.” He sets down the tablet, forgets to switch the picture. “Sykes contributed to the murder.”
I shake my head. “Their annual was the same time as mine. We were both injected.”
“And so why didn’t they go insane?”
“Maybe they did. Nikael took them from the room before anything else could happen.”
“Because you started to hallucinate.”
“Because your bosses wanted to kill me first. It was self-defense.”
The monitor at my side begins to beep louder. Turning, I see the gentle line spike. Up and down, back and forth. Peaked like a mountaintop. He scratches his scalp with a stylus.
“I see.”
Deep breaths. It is a chore to relax. Between the questions and the images, I grow stressed enough to break free. But I can’t run from the experiment; fighting would prove Rensis right.
Candace’s monitor sounds like mine. Except they aren’t listening to the conversation; they focus both eyes on the screen. Rensis switches the image. A Greek creature, with the body of a lion and the head of a goat, encompasses the wall. Jillian scoffs.
“That’s not funny.”
“What,” Rensis asks. “You know what this is?”
“The mythical chimera,” they say.
His eyebrows raise. “Good one.” He approaches Jillian and takes off their chest pads. He does the same for Candace. “You two are free. No signs of schizophrenia. No need to proceed with the microchip portion.”
“What about me?” I ask, fingers clenched. “Seems like I should definitely be in the clear.”
He follows the two chimeras out the door, closes the entrance, and twists abruptly. The projector turns off with his heavy slam. “Sure. You lack the signs of schizophrenia. But I’m not finished.”
“How?” Spit collects at the sides of my mouth. “What more do you people want?”
He sets down the tablet, brings his face inches from mine. “Tell me where you got the gun.”
The tip of my tongue stings. I slide it across the edges of my teeth.
“Nope.”
“Then I apologize.”
A searing burn trickles up my arm. The microchip has been activated with some electric fire.
“Stop, Dr. Ibrahim,” I yell. “You have the weapon. That’s all you need.”
“Not in the least.”
The chip burns again. Every hair rises. The fire-ant stings spread farther.
“Did you get it yourself?” he asks. I shake my head. “The human, then.”
“My cousin? Heck no.”
“What about Sykes Leubben.”
My tongue collides with my palate. “No.”
The monitor beeps. Rensis tracks the line looks to me. My cheeks glow with heat. He was not tracking for any mental disorder.
“A lie detector,” I blurt. “You really stooped to –”
“Thank you, Kash.”
The pain in my arm turns numb. He rips the monitor pads from my chest; only a gooey substance remains. The lights flash on Rising, I try to reach for the door, but the doctor takes my shirt collar and doesn’t let go.
“What are you going to do to Sykes?” I ask, tongue tight. “Please. Don’t tell them it was me. Don’t do anything.”
“Oh, I’ve something special planned next,” he says. He jerks open the door, lets go of my shirt, and shoves me out of the lab.
“Wait,” I say. I bang against the door. The idea of Sykes being tortured for my actions makes me queasy. My hand aches; I bang the door again. “Wait, Rensis, I’ll make one deal.”
No noises.
“It’s about Hollis Culpepper. She lied to you.”
The entrance slides. The doctor’s dark face appears between the wall and door. “Yes?”
“Promise me you won’t touch Sykes,” I say, a wormy tickle in my chest. “I’ll tell you the truth about my cousin.”
