Everyone's Favorite Girl (15 page)

But he didn’t.  He let them walk right out the door.

The last guest to leave was the president and his team of Secret Service agents.  James put on surgical gloves and turned off Flora’s device while the agents pulled their boss kicking and flailing and cursing away from her.

He tried to fight them until Mr. Shriver commanded him to sit down and drink a glass of water.
  The president obeyed, and I could tell the Secret Service agents smelled something fishy in the air.  They, I determined, were not drugged, probably because their jobs demanded that they not partake in Mr. Shriver’s expensive wine, champagne, and liquor.

I wondered if that was the bartender’s duty for the evening: drug each guest individually as they ordered drinks. 
Good thing the beer wasn’t spiked with Love Drug, since I became my own bartender when he was removed.

Then again, I knew Mr. Shriver to be more meticulous than that.  More likely, he’d passed around glasses of champagne to every guest and kicked the party off with a toast—one worded just the right way, to secure their loyalty, if only for the evening.

When the president was gone, Mr. Shriver came over to me.  By then I was resting my head on the bar, trying to decide whether or not I was going to puke.

“It’s time for the final test,” he said.

I straightened up slowly, carefully.  Nausea’s a bitch.

“I thought that was the test,” I said.

He shook his head, grinning, and pointed towards the bed, where Patton was helping Flora get dressed, fighting off her attempts to kiss and grope him.  He’d gotten a pair of surgical gloves from James.

“I want you to kill one of them,” Mr. Shriver said.  “You can have the other, but one must die—at your hand.  Do that, and we’ll go to my office to talk things
over.”

He handed me Sean’s knife.  Then he went around the bar and poured himself a glass of brandy.

~ ~ ~ ~

I didn’t cry.  I was stone cold.  Mr. Shriver led me down a hallway I’d never been in before to a large office lined with bookshelves and mahogany trim.  It had its own bar, a pool table, a small gym in the corner, three big flat screen TVs on the wall above the door, so that when he sat at his enormous flat-top desk he could watch security camera footage or baseball or porn or whatever he used to entertain himself.

He offered me a seat in front of his desk and handed me a box of tissues.  My hands were sticky with blood.

“Melissa Reed,” he announced as he sat down opposite me.  “This feels like a job interview, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“
Well, Melissa, we accomplished a lot tonight.  Our compounds are now legally sanctioned and will pass through customs without a hitch.  We can ship to Russia, Iran, China—anywhere. 
Every
where, to be precise.  Wars will be waged this year without a single shot fired.  It’s a more peaceful chemical warfare, wouldn’t you say?”

“You saw what happened here, in Indianapolis.”

“Softer blow than a nuke, no? Tell me, Melissa, are you ready to take on the role of production manager?”

“I’m sure I’ll need training.  But yes.”

He shook his head.  “It’s a simple job.  The Favorite Girls have been well-trained.  All you have to do is learn what they’re doing and make sure they keep doing it right.”

“If it’s so simple, why’d you go through all this trouble to put me there?  Why not just promote someone else?  Hell, Liu could do that job.”

“We’re talking about bulk shipments of our most sensitive materials.  Gallons upon gallons of Love and Libido.  I can’t trust just anyone.”

“There’s still
gotta be more to it than that.”

“Actually,” Mr. Shriver said, “that’s where I need your help.”

“Meaning?”

“I want you for your ideas, Melissa.  As my stone-cold enemy, you gave me ideas that strengthened the company’s security ten-fold.  That’s why I’m giving you this.”

He produced from his pocket what looked like a key card.

I snatched it up like a Christmas present and held it up to my face.

“That card bypasses any security panel Levels A through D.”

I looked at him.  “You mean I have full access to the building.”

“Except Level E, of course.”

“Of course,” I repeated.

He leaned back in his chair, tapped the desktop with his thumb.

Where would I go first?  Level D to spend the night with Patton?  Level A to snatch up Flora and dive off the loading dock?
  This was unreal.  In just a few hours I went from prisoner to manager, and all of it predicated on a simple illusion.

Judy’s brilliance was endless.

I stood.

“Where you going?”

“Level B,” I said.  “To the lab.”

“May I ask why?”

Backing away from the desk, I said, “I don’t know yet.  It just feels right.”

Mr. Shriver seemed pleased with himself.  Like he’d raised a kid to be proud of.

“Be sure to get some sleep,” he said.  “I need you sharp as a whip at eight a.m.  Tomorrow is the big day.  With your training complete, we will now begin production.  Sean’s guards will be waiting for you.  They’re yours now, by the way.”

That stopped me.  “What do you mean they’re mine?  Who?”

“Sean’s guards—I can’t remember their damn names.  Sean has been relieved of his management and security duties, and before you go asking, let’s just leave it at this: Sean has proven himself unfit for leadership.  It’s not permanent, and that’s all I have to say on the matter.”

I nodded, winked at him, and started across the room.

“One question, before you go.”  I turned at the door and waited.  Mr. Shriver interlocked his fingers contemplatively.  “Why did you pick Flora?”

I shrugged.
  “Patton has a job to do.  Floras are a dime a dozen around here.”

“Very well,” Mr. Shriver said.

I was halfway out the door when I decided to take a shot at something.

“You said I get to keep the one I don’t kill.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want Patton.  Can I have the next Flora in line?”

He thought a moment, made a face that portended a “no,” and then said, “You might be able to catch James before he takes her back to the warehouse.  If not, you’ve got a key now.”

-Full Access-

AFTER EVERYTHING I’d been through the past month, locked away on death row, tormented with mind-altering drugs, you’d think I’d
use my brand new key card—so new, in fact, that I swear the laminate was still warm—to take me somewhere other than my room.

But when I got Flora back, I just wanted to be alone with her.

And to wash off her sister’s blood.

Seeing her so broken up, shaking like a leaf, crying uncontrollably, no more desensitized to violence than she ever was, I realized why this brainwashing illusion was working so well.

Because in a way, it wasn’t an illusion.  Judy had subjected me to three out of four planned injections of the Love Drug.  That meant my brainwashing was seventy-five percent complete.

I must admit, I had an easier time killing the younger Flora than I had just watching the one I initially purchased die.

I
had
changed, and by no means for the better.

Flora didn’t see the murder, but she did hear the screams.
  Mr. Shriver had told her not to leave the piano bench until instructed otherwise.  Naturally, the party ended and she still sat there for nearly an hour, until I came and found her sitting there bawling her eyes out—for who knows how long.

I took her back to my room and we showered together.  Nothing sexual erupted from it.
  We both just needed refreshing.

Afterwards, we lay in bed and held each
other while I explained why it had to happen.

She understood, she said, and she didn’t blame me, bu
t the devastation went un-mended.

I fell asleep consoling her, and when I woke to my alarm at seven, my first thought was,
I missed my chance to see Judy.  They’ll be coming to take me to the warehouse in an—

Old habits die hard.

I had a key now.  No one was coming to escort me anywhere.

With that knowledge, I jumped out of bed, threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, slipped on my house shoes, and walked out to the lobby by myself.

It was still pretty empty, only a few early birds up for breakfast or to play around on one of the computers in the back corner.

I couldn’t decide what to do, but
breakfast sure couldn’t hurt. I wandered into the cafeteria, ordered a BLT, and sat close to the entrance, only halfway committed to eating.  Fittingly, I ate half the sandwich, tossed the rest in the trash, and rode the elevator down to Level B.

I think my intent was to find Judy and talk to her.  See if she really did have a plan.  Production beg
an this morning, according to Mr. Shriver, so by tonight there was no telling how much Love and Libido would have shipped out into the world.

Level B
was empty and dark, as I was accustomed to finding it.  Even when Brian lived here the place felt unoccupied.  He was a very clean person.  They all were.

The backlighting on the shelves where Brian kept his failed experiments drew my attention, and I decided to study them closer.

They were fetuses at different stages of development, only each one had its own unique deformity.  Three arms, no eyes, two heads.  One would-be Favorite Girl seemed to have no deformities.  It took me picking up the jar and tilting it at different angles to see the child had been born a hermaphrodite, with no other physical ailments.

How many had he aborted for coming out with the wrong hair color?
  Or a birthmark?

I heard someone cough and jumped, but when I turned around there was no one there.

It happened again.  This time I noticed an echo.

Slowly, I walked over to the pit
and peeked over.

The bartender, of course.  Beaten to a pulp, ready to beg at the sight of me.
  The poor bastard probably didn’t even penetrate Flora, and this was his consequence.  Not long ago a young war veteran and entrepreneur spent time down in that hole.  From there he went to the dungeon on Level E.  From there?  Probably the incinerator.

I backed away before
the bartender saw me.  I couldn’t help him, as I now had to portray myself as someone who didn’t
want
to help him.  Besides, I had more important things to do.

I couldn’t find Judy anywhere
on Level B, though I did venture through some hallways I’d never seen and poke my head inside a few new doors.  I came across rooms I never encountered in the air ducts—probably because the lights were off—including a room full of large aquariums and terrariums housing snakes, lizards, turtles, fish, and all manner of plant life.

With less than an hour to go before work, I thought it best not to dally, so what rooms I did see were at a mere glance. 
I rode the elevator back to Level C and went to the service desk, where Liu looked as happy and stupid as ever.

“Do you know where James’s room is, by any chance?”

Liu gave me a bitchy smile.  “You must mean James and
Judy’s
room.  Yes, I know exactly where they sleep—I mean live.”

She directed me to the room, and I keyed myself in without knocking.  For some reason I felt bold and daring.  I walked in on James tightening his tie in front of the mirror and Judy sitting at the table reading through big reams of paper with her glasses sitting low on her nose.

Judy looked up from her research and stood so fast her chair tipped over.  She ran around the table and lunged at me, cleverly slamming the door shut as she flung her arms around my neck.

“You did it!” she cried.

I didn’t share in her excitement.  We weren’t out of the woods by any means.  The simple answer was to drug Mr. Shriver and ask him to hand over the company.  Only Mr. Shriver made sure he never went unprotected.  Would I get time alone with him now, with so much access to the drugs?

Even if I did, what if he’d planned for this?
  What if he’d structured things so that
he
couldn’t even sign the company away?  I couldn’t act without the right information.

Right now Judy and James—the drugged version of him, anyway—were my only allies.

Maybe Patton, too.

I sat next to Judy at the table and James came walking up.

“I have to report to Mr. Shriver,” he said, combing his hair with his fingers.  He was better dressed than usual.  He must have gotten a promotion, too.

“Employee Manager?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“So you’ll be spending a lot of time around him, like Sean did.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.”

He apologized and it was sincere.  I liked this James.

“Just get as close
to him as you can,” I instructed.  “Become his best fuckin’ butt buddy, okay?”

He nodded.  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

Judy and I had a few minutes alone before we had to report for work, too.  I had a million things to talk to her about, but two pushed their way to the front of the line: my clone and the note Judy had sent with James when I slipped him the Love Drug.

“Do you know about my clone?”
I asked first.

She literally sat back in her chair.

“Who told you?”

“So you do know.”

“Yes.  Brian showed it to me once, and after he died I knew there was no one to monitor it, so I’ve been taking care of it…her, I mean.  Sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She curled her brow.  “Melissa, this is the first real conversation we’ve had since you killed Brian.  I never had a way to tell you, remember?”

“Where is it?”

“I’ll show you tonight.”

“Now, Judy.”

She stood and pointed at her watch.  “We don’t have time right now.  I promise, though, okay?”

Maybe I should drug you, too.

“Okay,” I said.  “Wait, one more thing: the postscript in your note.  What solution are you working on?”

Judy shook her head and started for
the door.  “I’m on the brink,” she said.  “Just give me a day or two.  Then I’m going to need your help.”

She lingered for a moment. 
I stood and met her there.  She looked a little wounded from my impatience and rudeness, so I gave her a hug, which she accepted with the longing of a neglected child.

“Promise you won’t get mad at me.”

I pulled away to look her in the eyes.  “Why would I get mad at you?”

“
When I ask you to help me, I mean.”

“I’ll gladly help you, Judy.  Anything to get us out of this.
  You know that.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  Instead, she put on a difficult smile and stepped out to the hallway, leaving me to wonder what the hell she was going to ask me to do.

~ ~ ~ ~

I didn’t know much about the warehouse side of Level A—only what I’d seen on my initial tour of the building and the time I snuck down here and found the loading dock—but I didn’t have time to do any exploring.  The elevator door opened to the sound of a man yelling.

I stepped out into a small hallway with windows looking out to the warehouse.  Straight ahead stood three rows of industrial shelves at least twenty feet tall, all filled up with pallets of metal barrels.

At the end of the last aisle, one of Sean’s guards—the one missing a portion of his penis—stood over two young favorite girls, screaming at the top of his lungs.
  One girl, a Vampire, was sitting on the floor holding her foot, while the other, a Glow, stood crying with her head down and her arms limp.  Behind them, stood a pallet jack.

I ran down the little hallway and, emerging into the warehouse, sprinted over to the scene.

“Hey!”

The guard looked up and rolled his eyes.  He pointed down at the little Vampire Girl as I came to a stop.

“She broke her fucking foot horsing around.”

“Then why aren’t you taking her to Patton?”

“That’s not my job.”

“You’re right,” I said, “
that’s not your job. 
Your
job is to go round up your buddies and get the fuck off my floor.”

He smirked.  “You’re joking, right?”

I ignored him, noticing that one of the eldest Floras—probably the one on deck to “graduate” now—had been standing at a safe distance watching, probably waiting for the guard to leave so she could assist Vampire with her injury.

“Flora!” I called, motioning her over.  She came running up fast.  “I’m going to take this little girl to see Patton.  I need you to gather everyone up and have them go back to where you sleep.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Flora looked to the guard for approval.  I cupped her cheek with my hand and turned her face.

“I’m the boss down here now,” I said.  “These piles of shit are leaving and they’re never coming back.”

And I killed your older sister last night.

“I’ll go get everyone,” Flora said.

I looked at the guard.

“You got a hearing problem?”

He huffed and puffed for a few seconds, emasculated, rendered powerless, but finally he stormed off, shouting across the warehouse to his companions.  They followed him to the elevator without hesitation, probably eager to be done with physical labor, no matter the reason.

I waited for the elevator door to close.

Then I turned to Glow.

“What happened here?”

She was still sniffling, but she managed to say, “Vamp-Vampire tried to take my pow-wet jack.”

“Liar!” Vampire cried.  “I had it first!”

I put a hand to Glow’s back and led her away.  “Go sit with the other girls.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I carried Vampire to Level D.  In the elevator, she pinched my arm
for no reason and I almost dropped her.  Sheer boredom, I would guess.  That or an indiscriminant thirst for violence.  Luckily the shifting around inflamed her foot and made her start crying again.  I hate to admit thinking that way about a ten- or eleven-year-old girl, but damn it if that pinch didn’t hurt like hell.

Patton was sitting down to breakfast with
all the five-to-nine-year-olds in the cafeteria.  When he saw me enter, he stood quickly and addressed us in a warm, comforting manner, so seeing their injured sister wouldn’t scare the girls as much.

I took the hint and waited for him in the doorway.

A couple of the Floras who were sitting nearby were smiling and waving at me.  All I could give them was a nod and what I hoped they would interpret as a smile.  My arms were tired, I felt irritated from Vampire’s pinch, and my mind was all over the place.  My clone.  My Flora.  My new job.  My new personality.

And him.

He took her from me and I followed him out to the garden lobby, fake plants intermixed with a few shade-loving real ones.  There I left him.  I didn’t know what to think, much less say.  And I had dozens of unattended preteen and teenage girls to look after.