Chapter 32
DEAD THINGS
Kail and I tumbled out of the sleeping bags an hour ago and have migrated to the squeaky timber porch to eat.
The sounds of the lake water moving and of birds calling are a distant, mesmerizing background that seeps quietly into your bones.
I dunk my spoon in the last inch of the cereal and milk, rest it on the side of the bowl, and find myself thinking about what was said last night.
There are dark ramifications to what I’m doing that have never occurred to me until now.
“Kail, I need to say something. Something serious and complicated.”
“Sure.” His eyes rest easy on me, as if nothing I can say will trouble him.
“I know this was originally about me getting revenge for Dad’s killing, and yet…” I frown, trying to see my path through this.
“And yet?” He pushes away his bowl. When he moves and leans on it, the little metal chair looks as if it’s bending.
“And yet, there is more. You and your creation is something I’m wrestling with, and you must have opinions on this.
A few days ago, I just wanted revenge on Clay and then I chose what I thought was a more moral course—finding out how the institute is doing this research, and whether they are doing something dirty and illegal in their acquisition of bodies.
And this was so we could shut it down.” Softly, I bump the table with my fist. “But now…”
He waits. My frankenstruct man is patient. It’s a trait I would love to have.
“Is it completely wrong to make people like you? It cannot be.” He’s still waiting, so I continue. “So, it’s wrong because you were never asked, but what if people have the choice? Is that right and moral?”
“You’re asking if frankenstructs are something that should exist?”
“I guess? Except I don’t want the answer to be no.” I prop my chin on my hands, then momentarily bury my head under those hands. “Sorry. It’s an insulting question.”
“I’m not insulted. I’ve been thinking about this question too.
I’m not sure we have any control over this.
It’s a Pandora’s Box problem. The cat is out of the bag.
” He points outward, at the lake, at the ducks floating about quacking near the shore.
“Let’s enjoy the morning before we get more philosophical. ”
I sigh and settle into soaking up the quietude.
This soothing wind and this lake that stretches away into serenity, and those ducks?
Kail is right. My heart slows as I relax.
If not for the threat of drifting dead things, I could stay here.
“Though I do long for the days of having a pastry and barista coffee for breakfast.”
“My coffee is no good?” Kail pouts, his scars pulling this way and that on his not-pretty but perfect-for-me face.
I reach across the table to slap his arm and notice a car driving along the track toward us.
Melody is arriving early, as she said she would. My pink Chevy rumbles to a stop beside the jeep.
“Thought you’d like to see your car!” She slams the door after retrieving a black duffel bag that weighs down her hand. Her blue-denim bib overalls make me think she’s planning to do some hardcore work.
“And I thought it was too obvious a car?” I sing out as she nears the porch. Kail and I stand. I do love the vehicle. “If I drive it into town, we may as well wear party hats and alert the institute.”
“Yeah, the party hats would make them notice you. I meant you might drive it around here. Though the roads are rough, she’s adequate for most of the road surfaces.
I think Esau plans to come out in two days with his and swap cars.
” She puffs up her mouth and huffs. “It’s complicated trying to juggle cars. ”
“And living places. Like this. We need a breakthrough. A way into the institute. Evidence of body snatching. Something. Rasmus still has nothing.”
“He said that to me too. Last resort, we try for some state rep or higher and give them what you have. I read the draft email. If they get a warrant to search the institute, I’m betting they will discover evidence.”
“If.” I wince.
“If you do that, I will volunteer as evidence,” Kail says.
And yet he’s said no to being put on the spot before, especially regarding where he comes from. And that would have to be detailed, if he gave evidence. They’d poke him, prod him, demand to know things he might not wish to say.
“Not yet,” I tell him.
He shrugs.
We all shake hands before Melody eyes our coffee. “I see you’re ready to help me. Fueled up with caffeine.” Her smile is broad. “I’ve had breakfast. If you’re here for a couple of days, you can do some tissue sampling.”
“How? You aren’t going to be doing that on anything alive?” I feel I should say that, though I know what her answer is likely to be. I preempt her. “Dead things?”
“Yep. It’s my day off, but tomorrow you can do some by yourselves.
Let’s see.” Melody dumps the duffel bag on the cabin’s porch and sorts through the contents.
“I can’t keep things cold until we get back here, so a zip lock bag is enough.
Sample punch.” She holds it up. “I don’t ask anything dangerous of you. ”
“Good,” Kail mutters. “And the reasons for this?”
She straightens. “To see if any of the weirdnesses out here are related. I get DNA done, mostly. I used to see if there were any common disease etiologies, but that’s been consistently negative.”
DNA. My brain pricks up at that. I wanted to get Kail’s, and from how she’s cocking her head at him, she’s had that same thought.
“So far nothing alien has turned up. Kail, can I ask if you—”
“My DNA? No. Sorry.”
For a second or two it’s a standoff. “Fair enough. Get your boots on, both of you. I walk around this part of the lake on foot.”
It turns out that sampling anything includes one duck.
My boots are muddy, full of water and bits of rotting plant matter.
The lake is pristine for a lake of this size, according to Melody, except for the odd deer with holes that should not be in its head.
She sounds sad to have lost that dead deer to the lake.
The duck likely died of natural causes, yet she punches out a sample and stores it, demonstrating the procedure.
Contamination is likely on the outside, so a deep sample from the middle of the duck is in order.
It’s a smelly business, and I pray we find very few bodies. I nearly threw up.
It’s not until an hour later when we stop for a breather and sit on a pair of tree stumps that I decide to ask that question of him—the one that’s been stewing in my mind that Melody did not ask. She’s standing by the edge of the lake, far enough away that she won’t hear.
“Kail?”
“Yes?”
“I have to confess, I was thinking of getting DNA from you too. I apologize as I was going to do it without asking you.”
His eyebrows rise, and he inclines his head. “But you didn’t, so there is nothing to say sorry for. Thank you.”
“Not interested in finding out?”
“No.”
“Can you say why? You don’t know for sure who you come from. This might help you find out.”
“I know.” He stares out over the lake. “I guess I’m afraid.”
“Oh.” Kail, afraid, is not something I am prepared for.
“I have my dark moments. What if I’m not who I hope I am? What if I was not a good man? Or some of me was not. Maybe I robbed banks or was some racist piece of crap?”
“I understand. I understand as well as I can. It’s something only you can decide.”
He nods. “Maybe I will agree to it, after I think on it some more.”
That’s all I can ask of him. Although this is the most unusual, surreal relationship, it is also the only one I’ve been in that has simply felt as comfortable as settling into a well-worn sofa with a cuddly teddy bear from my childhood for a pillow, while outside the rain patters on and dribbles down the window glass.
Okay brain, hold up there.
I check out Kail and the slide of light over his long-sleeved gray shirt, how it follows those rolling hills of superb muscle. His scars. His no-nonsense way of handling me in bed, or…out of bed when he chooses.
A sexy teddy bear? A better fit. One that will kill to protect what is his.
He lifts his hands, screws up his nose. “I can smell duck on me.” He leans in and sniffs me, wrinkles his nose again. “Ewww-eee, I’m going to need to scrub you in the shower for ages to get rid of the stink.”
“Promises, promises. I’ll be scrubbing you.”
“Give me a hug first.” He opens his arms and advances.
I shriek and back away, trying not to trip on the undergrowth. “Melody! Help! Smelly man!”
She only guffaws and eyerolls. “You two. Behave or I might have to hose you both.”
Before she leaves, having packed her stuff into Molly and Ron’s Jeep, Melody asks to see Kail’s finger to make sure the stitches are still holding. She leans over the porch table where he’s laid it flat, has him turn it over and flex it, then stretches his skin this way and that.
“Amazing. I cannot see any problems. No infection. No failure to heal. And the nerves and bones are all clearly behaving as well.”
“I thought so. Good to have it confirmed.” He withdraws his hand.
“I don’t want to be intrusive, Kail, but there is something else I thought it best to say. But I won’t if you have any reservations. It’s relevant to your identity, so I will shut up if you want me to.”
After a few seconds, he nods to her. “I’ll say stop if I have to.”
“Okay. The other day, the rest of your sutures came out easily, as did those staples that were barely hanging in there, but…the way your face is put together, and the back of your head, too, that has me wondering. This might be a sensitive thing to hear? Ummm. Stop me if you want to?”
His face stills. “Go on. You’ve come to some conclusion about the surgery that was done to me?”