“No. It’s not. You’re a frankenstruct.”
How did she get that word? My stare is hard, joining my cock which for some backward reason of its own has decided this is a good time to fuck. I think not.
“A what?” How much does she know?
“Don’t act stupid. You’re a stitched-together monster, a Frankenstein soldier.” She bites her lip, as if rethinking how much to reveal. “Why are you here? To kill me?”
I will answer her slowly. It might help me to not trip myself on facts, because what the hell do I really know about myself? More than her. Less than I need.
“No.” A lie and I hate lying to her, but the truth will only get in the way. I will not be killing her anyway. “I’m not. Never will I harm you, Hailey.”
Now that is the utter truth.
She sucks in a breath, and I watch as swallowing moves her throat. Nervous. I want to make her do that while I’m inside her, want to watch all her little movements, and the chances of that happening are fading by the second.
This situation is completely screwed up, but I’m lost as to what to say or do. Killing people is not the answer, no matter what my handler believed.
“Did you have anything to do with the murder of my father?” Her voice is shaking. Her hand shifts on the shotgun.
“When?” This does not make sense? Did someone else get here before us. “How?”
“How? That’s a… Six months ago.” She looks puzzled, maybe annoyed, as if my question is stupid.
“No. I did not, and I’m sorry that happened.” More than sorry. Her obvious devastation and the shine of tears in her eyes make me wish I could bring her to me and hug her. That I cannot do this makes me sad.
“Go. Leave my house.” She twitches the shotgun sideways then retrains it on me.
I open my hands, raise them. Am I pleading? I guess. If I can’t change her mind, my future seems meaningless. Her and this place are a pin stuck in my map. This could have been a place to start anew.
“Go!”
“Ron,” instructs the old woman. She holds up a phone and seems to take my picture.
Ron aims his weapon at me, and his hold on the gun has zero shake. I’m impressed.
Fixing this, right now, is impossible.
I lock onto a new aim—convincing her I am an asset and a friend and not a monster. Bedding her again, that aim can wait, a little.
“Okay. I’m going.” Carefully, I step down onto the ground and off the paved pathway, then go a few yards further onto the front lawn before I speak again. “I don’t hold this against you.”
I back away then head for the opposite fence that borders the forest leading up into the mountains.
If they shoot me in the back, I’m dead.
That they don’t shoot gives me hope. The photo taken of me could be dangerous, depending on how things evolve. Her father is already dead? That doesn’t make sense. Either my memory is completely fucked and making stuff up or it’s true. And another Kail existed and is also dead.
Not until I reach the tree line do I stop to dress and haul on my shirt and boots. I still have that photo in my pocket. I will ask her who that other Kail is, another day, whenever I can corner her without a gun between us. Where do I have the best chance of doing this?
The town of Revenant. It is the most obvious place to begin exploring Hailey’s world.
That photo the neighbor took worries me. It was taken with a phone. I used to have my own cell phone. I did. The heft of it magically comes to me. Once upon a time, I held one, used it, talked into it, and texted.
It’s another fact that installs me solidly me into reality. As Pinocchio said,I’m a real boy. I study my palms, remembering my phone’s the hard rectangular case, trying to feel and see colors, size, the weight, and how I used it. Those things hold the worldwide web inside them. Everything connects to everything else. Type in a phrase, do a search, the result appears.
Data cascades into my brain: scams, phishing, pirates, and hackers. Those I could do without. Apps, discords…the dark web.
If I want more information, I should steal a phone.
