From outside the fence, Sara watched the children frolicking in the playground. She walked toward the entry and pushed, but the gate
wouldn’t budge. It was her fault, she had waited too long. The hinges were rusted with neglect and age, frozen solid. She pressed with all
her weight, but it was hopeless. She kicked at the fence again and again until finally it moved enough for her to squeeze onto the yard. She
moved toward the merry-go-round and stopped. Something was different inside her. She reached down and rubbed the swelling in her
abdomen. Finally it was there, what she wanted for so long, and she smiled.
With her hands resting on the bulge, she watched the children twirl on the merry-go-round. She was absorbed in their beautiful young faces,
but there was something strange. As the children circled, they began to change. The laughter disappeared. Their tight skin and beaming faces
morphed with each rotation, until they became wrinkled and old, the eyes pressed outward, the hair vanished, replaced by vein-tracked
scalps.
Sara lurched away, looked down at her stomach, and then back at the wrinkled shells of bone and flesh where the children had played. She
tried to call out, but there was no sound. She scanned the playground for help, but no one was there. The children were left alone to wither
and die, forgotten by everyone, and she could do nothing but scream for them in silence.
Sara was jolted awake by the alarm clock. She stared at the ceiling and watched the vision of the playground flash like a beacon, warning of
something. But what? Was it just a terrible dream? She turned off the alarm and sat up. It took several minutes to wash the images from her
mind. She reached over and stroked her husband’s arm. “Time to get up.”
Mark grumbled as he rose, locked in a post slumber daze. Sara watched him, thinking about the dream. It was the same nightmare she’d
encountered before. She opened her mouth to tell him, to share her confusion, the disturbing images, but stopped. It was just a dream, no
sense upsetting him. Mark scratched his butt with both hands and shuffled to the shower.
In the dim morning light, she stared out the window and tried again to force out the visions that echoed in her thoughts. Damn it, stop this
silliness. It’s just a dream, my imagination working overtime.
She stood up and headed for the kitchen. “I need a big cup of coffee.”
wouldn’t budge. It was her fault, she had waited too long. The hinges were rusted with neglect and age, frozen solid. She pressed with all
her weight, but it was hopeless. She kicked at the fence again and again until finally it moved enough for her to squeeze onto the yard. She
moved toward the merry-go-round and stopped. Something was different inside her. She reached down and rubbed the swelling in her
abdomen. Finally it was there, what she wanted for so long, and she smiled.
With her hands resting on the bulge, she watched the children twirl on the merry-go-round. She was absorbed in their beautiful young faces,
but there was something strange. As the children circled, they began to change. The laughter disappeared. Their tight skin and beaming faces
morphed with each rotation, until they became wrinkled and old, the eyes pressed outward, the hair vanished, replaced by vein-tracked
scalps.
Sara lurched away, looked down at her stomach, and then back at the wrinkled shells of bone and flesh where the children had played. She
tried to call out, but there was no sound. She scanned the playground for help, but no one was there. The children were left alone to wither
and die, forgotten by everyone, and she could do nothing but scream for them in silence.
Sara was jolted awake by the alarm clock. She stared at the ceiling and watched the vision of the playground flash like a beacon, warning of
something. But what? Was it just a terrible dream? She turned off the alarm and sat up. It took several minutes to wash the images from her
mind. She reached over and stroked her husband’s arm. “Time to get up.”
Mark grumbled as he rose, locked in a post slumber daze. Sara watched him, thinking about the dream. It was the same nightmare she’d
encountered before. She opened her mouth to tell him, to share her confusion, the disturbing images, but stopped. It was just a dream, no
sense upsetting him. Mark scratched his butt with both hands and shuffled to the shower.
In the dim morning light, she stared out the window and tried again to force out the visions that echoed in her thoughts. Damn it, stop this
silliness. It’s just a dream, my imagination working overtime.
She stood up and headed for the kitchen. “I need a big cup of coffee.”
Excerpt 1 for Forgotten Children
Copyright 2008 by Michael W. Davis
Michael W. Davis
Stories to touch the heart and mind
Excerpt 2 for Forgotten Children
Jim knocked on the door a second time, then peered through the glass panel for any movement in the small house. He started to turn away
when he saw Sandra approach. She pushed up on her toes, peeked through the glass and smiled when she recognized her visitor. He grinned
when she stepped back, glanced in the mirror hanging in the entry way, fluffed her hair several times, then returned to open the door.
“What in the world are you doing here this time of night? I’m a mess. I just took off my makeup, and I’m in my nightgown.”
“Sorry, Sandra, but I really need to talk to you, and you still look beautiful to me. I really mean that. Can I come in?”
The attractive woman with the long auburn hair smiled and stepped back from the door. “Sure, I’ll make us some coffee, but we have to be
quiet. Little Julie is asleep.”
He stepped through the door, reached out and pulled her to him, and wrapped his arms around her. “You really smell good, sweetheart.”
When he released her, Sandra canted her head. “What has gotten into you tonight?”
“I’ve been thinking about you, and me, and little Julie. Do you ever consider us? I mean, do you think it’s possible for you and I to have a
committed relationship?”
Sandra plopped down on the couch. Her expression shifted from a quirky smile to something else. It was as if she were dazed by what she
just heard. He noticed her lips quiver slightly before she looked down at the oval rug on the floor. Then he realized, she had considered that
very question, but hid it from the only man she’d been dating for the last two years. No, she never hid it, it was him. He was blinded by his
own selfishness, refused to see what was right there on her face, in her kiss, in the way she made love.
When she raised her head, there were tears in her eyes, and an unfamiliar sensation rushed into his chest. As Mark’s words from earlier
tonight buzzed in his head, and stung his conscience, it was like something was compressing his heart. The words hammered the truth of
what he’d done, how he played with Sandra’s emotions. No, not just her, but the hearts of all the women he’d dated. He never considered
how they felt, what they wanted in the relationship. They reached out and offered their unique gift for him to treasure, but he cast it aside.
His neck muscles tightened as he recognized the trail of broken hearts he had left behind. And it hurt, like his guts were being ripped apart. It
hurt bad.
Jim stared at the results of his callous behavior, watched the tears crawl down the face of a woman that had loved him, that had offered her
heart to just this one man and had been ignored. In that instant, he felt shame for all the dreams he had discounted from all the women he
used, but especially from this one, the very woman he knew he could trust forever. He cleared his throat, reached for Sandra’s tiny hands,
pulled her gently to her feet, and wiped the moisture from her face.
“I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve been around. But lately, even when I’ve been with someone, I’m not really there. At night, I think a lot
about being alone. It used to be okay, but not anymore. I’ve tried to figure out what it is that I really want, where do I see my life headed,
and the answer always comes back the same. It screams at me as I lie there in bed, or when I’m driving, or anytime I’m alone. It’s you. The
same answer hits me again and again, I only want you, and your wonderful daughter.”
“What are you saying, Jim? Is this...you have to be clear with me, please.”
“Okay, here goes. I want the three of us to become a family. I want you to be the only one in my life, forever, and I want the two of us to
have a child. I will love Julie as my own, I swear, but I want to bring someone into this world that comes from the two us. And I promise, I
will never stray, I will focus on you and you alone. I know I’ve been with a lot of women, but this is different. I want you and no one else,
Sandra.”
“So this is a proposal, right? You’re not playing with me. This is for real?”
“Yes, this is real, and I will never play with your feelings, ever again. I’ll cherish each moment we have, and I’ll always be loyal. You never
have to worry about that, never. I’ll work hard each day to raise you above the clouds and fill your life with sunshine. Together, we’ll soar
beyond all the pain and sorrow, and be complete, not as two, but as one. I’m sorry. I know that sound’s corny, but I mean it. What do you
say? Will you please trust me, and be my wife?”
As tears again formed in her eyes, she reached across and softly stroked his face. “No, it sounds wonderful. I mean, yes. I’ll marry you,
because I love you. I have for a long time; I just didn’t know if you felt the same. Now, is there something you want to give me?”
Jim reached across and kissed her.
“That’s real nice, but I was thinking about something more aligned for here.” Sandra pointed to the finger on her left hand.
“Shit. I’ve been thinking so much about how to ask you to marry me, I forgot about the ring. I’m not playing with you. I wouldn’t do that, I
honestly forgot.”
“It’s okay, but let’s not tell anyone until I get that ring. And for forgetting that important detail, you have to propose to me again with the
ring, and see if you can toss in an ‘I love you’ or two.”
“I can do that. I’ll go by the jewelry store tomorrow, and I’ll be back, I promise. I won’t even tell Mark until I get the ring. Guess I better
leave and let you get to bed.”
Sandra grinned. “No, just stay here tonight. That way I can make sure you don’t change your mind and ask someone else.”
Jim smiled. “Oh, that was cruel, but I’m sure I deserved it.”
Sandra took Jim by the hand and led him into the bedroom, but tonight, it was different. He no longer felt isolated, separated from the world.
Now he felt at peace, complete, as if his spirit was bonded to that of another human being. All his fears were gone. His apprehension to give
everything he was, everything he felt, to someone else had disappeared. The loneliness was pushed aside, and in its place, he sensed a new
emotion: belonging. He could trust this woman, to love him, care for him. She would never seek another, abandon him. They would be
together forever, bound to each other, and it felt right.
when he saw Sandra approach. She pushed up on her toes, peeked through the glass and smiled when she recognized her visitor. He grinned
when she stepped back, glanced in the mirror hanging in the entry way, fluffed her hair several times, then returned to open the door.
“What in the world are you doing here this time of night? I’m a mess. I just took off my makeup, and I’m in my nightgown.”
“Sorry, Sandra, but I really need to talk to you, and you still look beautiful to me. I really mean that. Can I come in?”
The attractive woman with the long auburn hair smiled and stepped back from the door. “Sure, I’ll make us some coffee, but we have to be
quiet. Little Julie is asleep.”
He stepped through the door, reached out and pulled her to him, and wrapped his arms around her. “You really smell good, sweetheart.”
When he released her, Sandra canted her head. “What has gotten into you tonight?”
“I’ve been thinking about you, and me, and little Julie. Do you ever consider us? I mean, do you think it’s possible for you and I to have a
committed relationship?”
Sandra plopped down on the couch. Her expression shifted from a quirky smile to something else. It was as if she were dazed by what she
just heard. He noticed her lips quiver slightly before she looked down at the oval rug on the floor. Then he realized, she had considered that
very question, but hid it from the only man she’d been dating for the last two years. No, she never hid it, it was him. He was blinded by his
own selfishness, refused to see what was right there on her face, in her kiss, in the way she made love.
When she raised her head, there were tears in her eyes, and an unfamiliar sensation rushed into his chest. As Mark’s words from earlier
tonight buzzed in his head, and stung his conscience, it was like something was compressing his heart. The words hammered the truth of
what he’d done, how he played with Sandra’s emotions. No, not just her, but the hearts of all the women he’d dated. He never considered
how they felt, what they wanted in the relationship. They reached out and offered their unique gift for him to treasure, but he cast it aside.
His neck muscles tightened as he recognized the trail of broken hearts he had left behind. And it hurt, like his guts were being ripped apart. It
hurt bad.
Jim stared at the results of his callous behavior, watched the tears crawl down the face of a woman that had loved him, that had offered her
heart to just this one man and had been ignored. In that instant, he felt shame for all the dreams he had discounted from all the women he
used, but especially from this one, the very woman he knew he could trust forever. He cleared his throat, reached for Sandra’s tiny hands,
pulled her gently to her feet, and wiped the moisture from her face.
“I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve been around. But lately, even when I’ve been with someone, I’m not really there. At night, I think a lot
about being alone. It used to be okay, but not anymore. I’ve tried to figure out what it is that I really want, where do I see my life headed,
and the answer always comes back the same. It screams at me as I lie there in bed, or when I’m driving, or anytime I’m alone. It’s you. The
same answer hits me again and again, I only want you, and your wonderful daughter.”
“What are you saying, Jim? Is this...you have to be clear with me, please.”
“Okay, here goes. I want the three of us to become a family. I want you to be the only one in my life, forever, and I want the two of us to
have a child. I will love Julie as my own, I swear, but I want to bring someone into this world that comes from the two us. And I promise, I
will never stray, I will focus on you and you alone. I know I’ve been with a lot of women, but this is different. I want you and no one else,
Sandra.”
“So this is a proposal, right? You’re not playing with me. This is for real?”
“Yes, this is real, and I will never play with your feelings, ever again. I’ll cherish each moment we have, and I’ll always be loyal. You never
have to worry about that, never. I’ll work hard each day to raise you above the clouds and fill your life with sunshine. Together, we’ll soar
beyond all the pain and sorrow, and be complete, not as two, but as one. I’m sorry. I know that sound’s corny, but I mean it. What do you
say? Will you please trust me, and be my wife?”
As tears again formed in her eyes, she reached across and softly stroked his face. “No, it sounds wonderful. I mean, yes. I’ll marry you,
because I love you. I have for a long time; I just didn’t know if you felt the same. Now, is there something you want to give me?”
Jim reached across and kissed her.
“That’s real nice, but I was thinking about something more aligned for here.” Sandra pointed to the finger on her left hand.
“Shit. I’ve been thinking so much about how to ask you to marry me, I forgot about the ring. I’m not playing with you. I wouldn’t do that, I
honestly forgot.”
“It’s okay, but let’s not tell anyone until I get that ring. And for forgetting that important detail, you have to propose to me again with the
ring, and see if you can toss in an ‘I love you’ or two.”
“I can do that. I’ll go by the jewelry store tomorrow, and I’ll be back, I promise. I won’t even tell Mark until I get the ring. Guess I better
leave and let you get to bed.”
Sandra grinned. “No, just stay here tonight. That way I can make sure you don’t change your mind and ask someone else.”
Jim smiled. “Oh, that was cruel, but I’m sure I deserved it.”
Sandra took Jim by the hand and led him into the bedroom, but tonight, it was different. He no longer felt isolated, separated from the world.
Now he felt at peace, complete, as if his spirit was bonded to that of another human being. All his fears were gone. His apprehension to give
everything he was, everything he felt, to someone else had disappeared. The loneliness was pushed aside, and in its place, he sensed a new
emotion: belonging. He could trust this woman, to love him, care for him. She would never seek another, abandon him. They would be
together forever, bound to each other, and it felt right.
Excerpt 3 for Forgotten Children
The solid stream of water formed a protective shroud of shimmering particles around the small statue of a nude female holding up an
hourglass. The young apprentice’s leg twitched nervously while he anguished over his decision to accept this job. The money was beyond
anything he ever dreamed, but three months ago, Jamie Andrews had never imagined the terrible things he would be forced to do.
He stared at his distorted reflection in the blue tinted glass from the entryway of the large building. The breeze shifted and a slight spray from
the fountain reached out and embraced his skin. Andrews redirected his attention to the small statue in the fountain. The sensation of the cool
mist on his face provided a momentary release from the torment gnawing at his gut. Then he felt it again. The same panic that raced through
his veins this morning when he awoke from the frightening nightmares. He closed his eyes but could still see the implosion of flesh and hear
the blood curdling screams. With each breath, the urgency to escape grew deep inside, reached down and howled at his instinct to survive,
to run.
Andrews leaned toward the parking lot and his means of escape: his car. One hundred yards and he would be free. That’s what he’d do. The
hell with the job. No amount of money was worth the nightmares, the need to look over your shoulder at the sound of approaching
footsteps. As he pushed his rump up from the cool concrete and took one step toward the exit gate, a cold hand dropped down and squeezed
his neck. His impulse to run hovered for a second, but it was too late.
The impatient voice of his mentor, John Fields, barked, “Damn it, Andrews, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Don’t screw this up. My
ass is on the line here. Remember, I’m the one that recommended you for this job. Don’t let me down. Now come on. We’re late, and you
know how nasty he can be.”
Andrews followed his instructor up the granite steps, but not without one final glance into the parking lot. He sighed, turned back to his
accomplice, and surrendered. “I guess I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”
“You better get a grip on yourself. These guys don’t fool around. Why did you think they were willing to pay you all that money? Just to test
some lab rats in a cage? I know it’s hard, but it’s part of the job. You have to ignore what’s going on around you. Let’s get in there before
we’re both fired, or worse.”
“It doesn’t bother you? I mean, what they’re doing. It doesn’t give you nightmares?”
Fields voice jumped two octaves. “Show me a job where I can make this much money at my age and I’ll quit today. My God man, we’re
earning three times what we’d get anywhere else. I told you there was a dark side to this work. I’m really getting tired of this discussion.
Grow up.”
Fields inserted his security badge into the PIN pad next to the solid steel door. The massive security door swung open with a whoosh. After
several seconds, Andrews senses adapted to the blue tint cast by the overhead lights and the sterile, scentless air purring from the filtering
units recessed into the wall.
Andrews sat at the console and surreptitiously scanned the four visitors waiting at the rear of the room. They sat like statues, motionless,
with stoic unforgiving expressions. Except for the one in the center, with the three-piece suit. He impatiently tapped the tip of an enormous
umbrella repeatedly on the concrete floor. His hollow piercing stare reminded Andrews of the black-eyed dragons in the video games he used
to play—when life was fun.
Andrews looked away, afraid to make visual contact with Dragon Eyes, perchance he might pierce his weak armor and see inside, know his
instinct to flee. No, not to run, to tell the unthinkable things they were doing here.
The bald man standing next to the computer placed the clipboard on top of the console and nervously used a knuckle to push his circular
glasses up the bridge of his nose. He leaned toward the two lab assistants and whispered, “Where the hell were you? You realize he’s been
stewing for five minutes? He was just about to send out his hounds. And you understand what that would mean.”
Dragon Eyes rammed his umbrella down on the floor. “Let’s get on with it.”
Jones cleared his throat. “Mister Fields, are we ready?”
“Yes, sir. Everything is ready to go.”
Jones turned to Fields and rapped his pencil on the edge of the console. “Mister Andrews, watch Mister Fields. Next time, you’ll run the
machine yourself.”
But Andrews wasn’t there. His conscious had centered on the person strapped to the gurney. He surveyed the unshaven face of the sedated
victim, noted the torn flannel shirt, the emaciated face, and recognized the signs of another homeless man lured off the streets for the
promise of a meal. He closed his eyes and quietly moved his lips, as if talking to himself, maybe a prayer, a plea for forgiveness. When he
opened his eyes, his muscles froze.
Dragon Eyes had rested both hands on the pearl handle of his umbrella and was staring directly at Andrews. The gaze penetrated deep into
where Andrews hid, protected from his fear, from the things the man in the three-piece suit would do if only he knew what Andrews was
thinking, planning.
Again, the panicked voice screamed in his skull: escape, run. He fought the instinct and closed his eyes. No. Not now. I would never make it.
Not this way.
“Damn it, Andrews. Pay attention!” Jones bellowed.
He snapped up in his chair and cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”
Jones shook his head and focused all his attention on Dragon Eyes. “We’re ready to start the test. This represents our fourth attempt to
accelerate the exchange process. If successful, we will be able to reduce our processing time by more than one half. The subject is sedated
and represents a no-risk candidate. If something goes wrong, there is no family, no job, and no trail.”
“I understand all that,” Dragon Eyes said impatiently. “Let’s get on with it. My patience is wearing thin, gentlemen.”
“All right. Start the process.”
Fields flipped several switches at the console. A thick blue liquid circled around four loops of a clear plastic tube positioned to the right of the
console. Andrews watched the liquid crawl through the tube and disappear into the unconscious man on the gurney.
After fifteen minutes, Jones nodded. “Looks good. All parameters are within normal limits. It appears we’ve worked out the glitches and can
advance to…”
Jones’ mouth was open, but there were no words. He was distracted by a deep guttural moan. Suddenly the man on the gurney opened his
eyes and began a violent, spastic-like trembling. The test subject screamed as if every nerve in his body were on fire.
“Damn it, I thought you said he was sedated,” Dragon Eyes said, and turned to his left, “Baker, tape his mouth. I can’t stand that howling.”
Baker strode to the desk, removed a roll of tape from the drawer, and tried to secure the mouth of the man on the gurney, but the victim’s
convulsions were too strong.
“Don’t just sit there,” Baker yelled. “Get over here and hold him down.”
A man jumped up from his seat. The tape muffled the screaming, but the spasms continued. The two men remained at the gurney holding the
subject down.
“Stop the test,” Jones ordered. “Shut down the exchange, immediately! The process is accelerating. He’s going into a total purge.”
“No. Keep going. No sense wasting all that money,” Dragon Eyes insisted, and everyone complied.
Andrews watched in horror as the test subject morphed into a misshapen dark brown mass. After several minutes, a grotesque irregular
shape, like a dirty three-foot slab of jelly with a crusted shell, remained where the man once lay.
“What a fiasco. You guys have to do better. Don’t call me back until you get this fixed. I want all these bugs worked out in six months
before we go fully international. We need the increased production rate to handle the growing demand. Do you know what would happen if
one of your mistakes occurred during processing of a normal candidate? We would be screwed.” Dragon Eyes scanned everyone in the
room and added, “All of us.” Then without emotion, he issued a cold stark clarification. “I’m not talking about jail, gentleman. I’m talking
about extreme termination. If not by me, there are others who will ensure that what we’ve started here continues. You really need to get your
shit in order.”
The man with the umbrella looked over at the second lab assistant with his head positioned between his legs as he vomited on the floor.
“Christ, Andrews. What the hell is wrong with you? Go get a mop and clean up that mess.” While Andrews scurried across the room,
Dragon Eyes shook his head. “Baker, you better watch that kid. I think he might be a problem for us.”
The man used the umbrella to limp toward the exit where he turned and issued one final demand. “I’d better see progress soon, gentleman.”
He pointed to the carcass on the gurney. “And clean up this damn trash.”
hourglass. The young apprentice’s leg twitched nervously while he anguished over his decision to accept this job. The money was beyond
anything he ever dreamed, but three months ago, Jamie Andrews had never imagined the terrible things he would be forced to do.
He stared at his distorted reflection in the blue tinted glass from the entryway of the large building. The breeze shifted and a slight spray from
the fountain reached out and embraced his skin. Andrews redirected his attention to the small statue in the fountain. The sensation of the cool
mist on his face provided a momentary release from the torment gnawing at his gut. Then he felt it again. The same panic that raced through
his veins this morning when he awoke from the frightening nightmares. He closed his eyes but could still see the implosion of flesh and hear
the blood curdling screams. With each breath, the urgency to escape grew deep inside, reached down and howled at his instinct to survive,
to run.
Andrews leaned toward the parking lot and his means of escape: his car. One hundred yards and he would be free. That’s what he’d do. The
hell with the job. No amount of money was worth the nightmares, the need to look over your shoulder at the sound of approaching
footsteps. As he pushed his rump up from the cool concrete and took one step toward the exit gate, a cold hand dropped down and squeezed
his neck. His impulse to run hovered for a second, but it was too late.
The impatient voice of his mentor, John Fields, barked, “Damn it, Andrews, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Don’t screw this up. My
ass is on the line here. Remember, I’m the one that recommended you for this job. Don’t let me down. Now come on. We’re late, and you
know how nasty he can be.”
Andrews followed his instructor up the granite steps, but not without one final glance into the parking lot. He sighed, turned back to his
accomplice, and surrendered. “I guess I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”
“You better get a grip on yourself. These guys don’t fool around. Why did you think they were willing to pay you all that money? Just to test
some lab rats in a cage? I know it’s hard, but it’s part of the job. You have to ignore what’s going on around you. Let’s get in there before
we’re both fired, or worse.”
“It doesn’t bother you? I mean, what they’re doing. It doesn’t give you nightmares?”
Fields voice jumped two octaves. “Show me a job where I can make this much money at my age and I’ll quit today. My God man, we’re
earning three times what we’d get anywhere else. I told you there was a dark side to this work. I’m really getting tired of this discussion.
Grow up.”
Fields inserted his security badge into the PIN pad next to the solid steel door. The massive security door swung open with a whoosh. After
several seconds, Andrews senses adapted to the blue tint cast by the overhead lights and the sterile, scentless air purring from the filtering
units recessed into the wall.
Andrews sat at the console and surreptitiously scanned the four visitors waiting at the rear of the room. They sat like statues, motionless,
with stoic unforgiving expressions. Except for the one in the center, with the three-piece suit. He impatiently tapped the tip of an enormous
umbrella repeatedly on the concrete floor. His hollow piercing stare reminded Andrews of the black-eyed dragons in the video games he used
to play—when life was fun.
Andrews looked away, afraid to make visual contact with Dragon Eyes, perchance he might pierce his weak armor and see inside, know his
instinct to flee. No, not to run, to tell the unthinkable things they were doing here.
The bald man standing next to the computer placed the clipboard on top of the console and nervously used a knuckle to push his circular
glasses up the bridge of his nose. He leaned toward the two lab assistants and whispered, “Where the hell were you? You realize he’s been
stewing for five minutes? He was just about to send out his hounds. And you understand what that would mean.”
Dragon Eyes rammed his umbrella down on the floor. “Let’s get on with it.”
Jones cleared his throat. “Mister Fields, are we ready?”
“Yes, sir. Everything is ready to go.”
Jones turned to Fields and rapped his pencil on the edge of the console. “Mister Andrews, watch Mister Fields. Next time, you’ll run the
machine yourself.”
But Andrews wasn’t there. His conscious had centered on the person strapped to the gurney. He surveyed the unshaven face of the sedated
victim, noted the torn flannel shirt, the emaciated face, and recognized the signs of another homeless man lured off the streets for the
promise of a meal. He closed his eyes and quietly moved his lips, as if talking to himself, maybe a prayer, a plea for forgiveness. When he
opened his eyes, his muscles froze.
Dragon Eyes had rested both hands on the pearl handle of his umbrella and was staring directly at Andrews. The gaze penetrated deep into
where Andrews hid, protected from his fear, from the things the man in the three-piece suit would do if only he knew what Andrews was
thinking, planning.
Again, the panicked voice screamed in his skull: escape, run. He fought the instinct and closed his eyes. No. Not now. I would never make it.
Not this way.
“Damn it, Andrews. Pay attention!” Jones bellowed.
He snapped up in his chair and cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”
Jones shook his head and focused all his attention on Dragon Eyes. “We’re ready to start the test. This represents our fourth attempt to
accelerate the exchange process. If successful, we will be able to reduce our processing time by more than one half. The subject is sedated
and represents a no-risk candidate. If something goes wrong, there is no family, no job, and no trail.”
“I understand all that,” Dragon Eyes said impatiently. “Let’s get on with it. My patience is wearing thin, gentlemen.”
“All right. Start the process.”
Fields flipped several switches at the console. A thick blue liquid circled around four loops of a clear plastic tube positioned to the right of the
console. Andrews watched the liquid crawl through the tube and disappear into the unconscious man on the gurney.
After fifteen minutes, Jones nodded. “Looks good. All parameters are within normal limits. It appears we’ve worked out the glitches and can
advance to…”
Jones’ mouth was open, but there were no words. He was distracted by a deep guttural moan. Suddenly the man on the gurney opened his
eyes and began a violent, spastic-like trembling. The test subject screamed as if every nerve in his body were on fire.
“Damn it, I thought you said he was sedated,” Dragon Eyes said, and turned to his left, “Baker, tape his mouth. I can’t stand that howling.”
Baker strode to the desk, removed a roll of tape from the drawer, and tried to secure the mouth of the man on the gurney, but the victim’s
convulsions were too strong.
“Don’t just sit there,” Baker yelled. “Get over here and hold him down.”
A man jumped up from his seat. The tape muffled the screaming, but the spasms continued. The two men remained at the gurney holding the
subject down.
“Stop the test,” Jones ordered. “Shut down the exchange, immediately! The process is accelerating. He’s going into a total purge.”
“No. Keep going. No sense wasting all that money,” Dragon Eyes insisted, and everyone complied.
Andrews watched in horror as the test subject morphed into a misshapen dark brown mass. After several minutes, a grotesque irregular
shape, like a dirty three-foot slab of jelly with a crusted shell, remained where the man once lay.
“What a fiasco. You guys have to do better. Don’t call me back until you get this fixed. I want all these bugs worked out in six months
before we go fully international. We need the increased production rate to handle the growing demand. Do you know what would happen if
one of your mistakes occurred during processing of a normal candidate? We would be screwed.” Dragon Eyes scanned everyone in the
room and added, “All of us.” Then without emotion, he issued a cold stark clarification. “I’m not talking about jail, gentleman. I’m talking
about extreme termination. If not by me, there are others who will ensure that what we’ve started here continues. You really need to get your
shit in order.”
The man with the umbrella looked over at the second lab assistant with his head positioned between his legs as he vomited on the floor.
“Christ, Andrews. What the hell is wrong with you? Go get a mop and clean up that mess.” While Andrews scurried across the room,
Dragon Eyes shook his head. “Baker, you better watch that kid. I think he might be a problem for us.”
The man used the umbrella to limp toward the exit where he turned and issued one final demand. “I’d better see progress soon, gentleman.”
He pointed to the carcass on the gurney. “And clean up this damn trash.”
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