Chapter Twenty-Three
We stood in silence, our gazes locked in awkward tension. The weight of the newly revealed information was overwhelming, and I could sense Jude grappling with it too. Maybe even more. Would he turn his back on me? Would this knowledge taint the feelings we share with one another?
My questions were answered when his biceps wrapped around my shoulders in an embrace. An insufferable itch, like a thousand tiny needles, made me want to tear my skin off. Wrapped in his arms, I was shielded from the thoughts I had just spoken into reality. Burying my face into his chest, I breathed in his musk, which was strangely calming.
“Vinny, look.” Jude’s chin moved from the top of my head toward the computer screen. “There’s a folder with your name on it.”
Ugh, don’t even tell me there’s more.
Pulling back from Jude’s comforting embrace, I squinted at the ominous glowing screen. Among the countless files lining the digital interface, one stood out that was labeled: Vincent Trials. My heart instantly dropped. Trials? What could this mean? Could this be a record of all the Extractions over the years, or aguide on how to replicate my blood? I was transfixed, unable to look away, knowing I had to open it. I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to.
Straightening my spine and pivoting my body toward the screen, I placed one hand on the dusty mouse connected to the computer. Navigating the cursor over the folder marked with my name, I double-clicked. A screen opened from the folder, displaying video files named with dates, their thumbnails hinted at various events. I took one glance at Jude, who looked as confused as I was. “Let’s start with the first.” I took one large breath and double-clicked the oldest video.
A man wearing circular glasses and a pristine white lab coat appeared in a newly opened window. I pressed play, and the man’s lopsided smile sprang to life on the screen. “Is this working?” he asked, adjusting the camera and centering himself in the shot. “My name is Salvatore Asposito, and I’m here with my partner, Dante. Together, we created the Dogs for the government, and I’m here to document our new, completely self-funded project. Since unleashing BRETH on the world by accident, I believe we’ve found the cure.”
Jude clicked the mouse, pausing the video. “Are you sure you want to watch this?”
Tearing my eyes away from the flickering screen showing my father, I met his intense, blue gaze. “I have to.”
Draping one arm around my shoulders, Jude replayed the video.
A small vial of blood was pinched between my father’s thumb and forefinger. “This substance offers healing benefits, but while the side effects are still unknown, it effectively eliminates all traces of BRETH in those who consume it. Dante and I are in our lab and believe we have perfectly replicated his blood for mass consumption.” He waved to someone off-screen and lightened his voice. “Come over here, don’t be shy.”
A boy with a fair complexion and a smattering of brown freckles across his nose entered the scene. His black hair was unruly, sticking up at all angles, and his grey eyes were glazed over, like he was tired. A small smile resembling a half-moon was hanging on his lips. My mouth completely dropped. It was me.
Only it wasn’t.
My body had a visceral reaction to seeing the dad I kept sacred in my mind. The man who protected and loved me. Shock spread through my bones, knowing whatever was to come would change everything. My arms fell limp, and I found myself holding a breath hitched in my throat.
My father put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “We’ve used Vincent’s DNA to create a perfect clone. Using its blood, we’ve conducted extensive tests to confirm it’s identical to my son’s.” He lifted his chin and yelled, “Bring it in!”
My dad and the clone twisted their heads to the right. I squinted in the direction of their gaze, but all I saw was a shifting mass of pixels. I noticed a previously unseen door open, and an old man was shoved inside. His knobbly arms and legs looked like they were about to fall off, while its gray skin was tightly stretched over its bones.
My father turned toward the camera. “To test the clone’s blood, we’ve brought in a subject who’s been diagnosed with BRETH. We’ll inject him with fresh blood, then monitor for side effects while doing extensive testing.”
He raised the clone’s arm and secured a rubber band around it. Plunging a needle into its arm, I saw his eyebrows flinch at the prick of pain. Dark red blood, thick and gleaming like liquid gold, filled the vial attached to the needle.
The frail old man limped toward the table, positioning his gnarled wrist before my father. He reached his other hand to his mouth, unleashing a wet, hearty cough. With a new needleinserted, the man’s gray skin shifted to pink during the injection, before turning purple minutes later. With a choked cry, he threw his arms to his neck, then spurted red liquid across the room.
My father’s expression shifted from serious to horrified. “Dante! Dante! Get in here! I think he’s choking!” Reaching for the camera, he caused the image to become static, but when it cleared, only my father and the clone remained. “This experiment was not a success,” he said to the camera, defeated. “The test subject’s blood caused the man’s throat to close, and upon further research, we found an allergen infused with this clone’s DNA.”
Jude’s hand tightened on my shoulder. We both saw my father take the boy’s hand and lead him out of sight. A gunshot rang from the speakers, followed by an audible thud. Even if we hadn’t imagined it, the proof was undeniable: a white forehead and a mass of dark hair lay in a pool of blood on the floor before the body was removed.
My father carefully returned to the camera, setting a gun down on the table before wiping the blood from his hands. “We’ll review the data and knowledge gained during this trial, then make a new clone, and try again.” He took a deep breath, then expelled a heavy sigh. “I know we can do this.”
The picture froze on my father’s defeated face before I moved the cursor to the X in the right corner of the video. I was at a loss for words—it almost felt like what we just witnessed was fake. As my mind caught up, the strange detachment I experienced while viewing slowly faded, replaced by a clearer sense of my surroundings.
“What the fuck was that?” Jude gestured to the computer screen. “What did we just watch? And…what are all these other videos?”
“I-I had no idea,” I breathed. I just watched him kill someone, no, not just someone, me. The shock left me both numb and violently shaking. “There were…clonesof me?”
Jude pointed to the computer screen, his finger hovering over the brightly lit pixels. “Is this yourlovingfather, Vin?”
I remained quiet. I knew my dad wasn’t an angel, but the things I found out about him lately continued to depreciate my unwavering admiration for him. Walking through this secret lab, I didn’t want to admit he was the creator of the Dogs and likely the person who kept them active. Now I’m learning he used my DNA to create clones to harvest their blood? My blood. What other secrets was he hiding?
I clicked on the following video, and my father’s face appeared once again, looking well-rested and excited. Driven by curiosity, I needed to know the content of those videos and if his efforts eventually paid off, no matter how much time it took. The Dogs were disabled, what did I care?
“Trial number two,” he said to the camera. “With extensive research, I believe Dante and I found the anomaly in the last subject’s blood. We have found a way to correct it and created another clone of my son.”
