Machines of the Dead (12 page)

The lights dimmed, and the sphere began to glow red. A bass-like blast echoed around the room. Before Jack knew it, the lights came back on and the silver sphere retracted back into the ceiling. The door to the room opened, and Chambers told them that they were all set.

“Jack,” the man said, “
Dr.
Reynolds would like to have a word with you in his room.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. What about Zaun?”

“Mr. Van Pelt will be escorted to his room, and a guard will be posted outside his door, for now.”

“What am I, a criminal?” Zaun asked.

“Relax,” Jack told him. “They don’t know you. Once they do a thorough background check, like they did with me, you’ll be fine.”

“No
background checks
, Jack,” Chambers said. “We’re self-contained now. No internet, but don’t worry, I’m sure Dr. Reynolds will give your friend the run of the place in no time.”

“Okay, buddy,” Zaun said to Jack. “Don’t want to upset our hosts. I’ll behave. You go see this doctor and I’ll catch you in a bit. I need a shower and a nap.” Turning to Chambers, he asked, “You guys have showers, right?”

“Yes, each residential floor has them.”

Jack sat in the same chair he had sat in during his last visit to Doctor Reynolds’ place. This time instead of drinking Cognac, the man was sipping tea, offering Jack nothing to refresh himself with this time. The imitation fireplace blazed away, Jack feeling its heat as if it were real.

“So, all that for only one survivor?” Dr. Reynolds asked.

Jack thought the man sounded perturbed. “Yes.
Only
one
and I’d do it again for another
one
.”

“I didn’t mean to sound cruel, as if your friend’s life wasn’t worth rescuing. I simply mean it’s a shame there weren’t others, that along with the rest of the city, the entire building was dead.”

Jack went on, telling the Doctor everything that had happened, from his climb up the rope, to finding Zaun almost dead, to the narrow escape at the end.

“Amazing,” the doctor said, his tone cold, no emotion in it. “The last part, your rescue, I watched on camera. Dreadful.”

The doc took another sip of his tea. Jack thought the man looked terrible, as if he hadn’t slept in days. Screw the tea, the man needed his liquor.

“Any headway on the bot situation?” Jack asked, wanting off the current topic.

“None,” Dr. Reynolds said, looking dejected.

Jack had never seen the man
as
he was
,
completely cold, almost sinister in his demeanor. The guy was under a lot of pressure. Jack wondered how
he would
feel having the weight of a cure on his shoulders.

“Well,” Dr. Reynolds said, “I’m glad you at least found one person alive . . . and a friend no less.”

“Yeah . . .” Jack shifted slightly in his chair. “About that. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot,” the man said, enthusiastically, startling Jack a bit.

“When you do find a way to stop the bots, a cure so to speak, and I know you will, how are you planning to get word to the outside?”

Reynolds sat still, looking at Jack as if studying him. He sipped his tea, taking his time as if pondering something. Jack felt a shiver crawl over him, waiting for a response. He began to
question
if he
should have
kept his mouth shut. 

“I have a way,” he said. “A way of communicating to the proper authorities.”

Jack couldn’t believe it. So there
was
a way to reach the outside. Why had he kept it from him?

“Only a few others know about this,” Dr. Reynolds continued, “and I’m counting on you to keep it to yourself. This includes your friend, Mr. Van Pelt.”

“But why? Wouldn’t it make the others feel better, knowing they aren’t cut off?”

“No. It would distract them. They’d constantly want to get word out to their families. Then they’d even want to speak to them, one on one. This can’t and won’t happen. Not on my end and not on the military’s. The channel is hardwired to a building in Brooklyn. Communication-wise, it goes directly to my bosses. They expect their soldiers to do their jobs, and not worry about home life. The same goes for when our troops are in the field overseas. No communication. No whereabouts known. It’s better to just have everyone believe we’re on our own, leaving the men and women here to realize that they must be up to their best. Bottom line, they need to concentrate on their duties.”

“I’m surprised none of your people have brought it up. I can’t be the only person to wonder.”

“I’m sure you’re not, but unlike you, a civilian, my men must follow orders. They don’t ask questions. So, again, I must insist that you keep this conversation between us.”

Jack nodded. “My lips are sealed. It isn’t my place. I’m not a member of your team and I’m grateful to have a place here with you.”

He might inform Zaun, just to tell someone, but then again he might not. Zaun wasn’t a member of Doc’s team and he had no one he’d want to communicate with. But Zaun could be a loose cannon, and Jack didn’t want the guy mouthing off, telling any of the guards what Jack and him had talked about. So as much as he wanted to, Jack needed to keep the information to himself.

“Well, Jack,” Reynolds said, “I’m glad you’re back safe and sound with us.”

“Me too. And thanks for giving me the tools to get it done.”

“Not a problem.”

Jack stood, the doctor doing the same. They shook hands.

“Think I’ll head back to my room. I’m beat.”

Reynolds was looking at Jack again, as if studying him. A grin formed on the man’s face.

“Everything all right, Doc?”

The man turned away. “Aside from my numerous failed attempts at finding a cure and the fact that the city is in total ruin, millions dead?” He laughed. “I’m fine.”

Jack frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Reynolds walked to the door. “I know. I’m sorry too. Sorry I wasn’t more diligent with my security. Sorry for the loss of your wife. This whole mess is my fault. It was my project that got so many killed.”

Jack felt a tinge of anger bloom inside him at hearing the man say Jess’ name. It was ultimately Reynolds’ fault that his wife was dead. If the man had deliberately killed her, Jack wouldn’t hesitate to end his life. Screw finding a cure,
he would
let someone else worry about that. But Jack knew better; knew that Reynolds hadn’t set out to kill anyone, and was only sanctioned by the military, the same military that kept America safe, to perform a task. And Jack actually thought the idea sounded like a good one. Micro-robotic machines that could aid in a person’s recovery. If the doctor had figured out a way to make them work, it could have meant huge changes in the way injuries were treated.
Now
, with the city dead, the cost far outweighed any benefits.

Jack said goodnight and left the room. Something clearly wasn’t right with the doctor. The man’s words spoke of regret
,
of emotion, but
to Jack, the guy had no real sentiment behind them, like a bad actor reciting lines. 

Zaun was fast asleep when Jack went to check on his friend. Using pen and paper, he left a note on the desk, telling his sword-wielding buddy to come to his room when he woke up.

By ten p.m. Zaun still hadn’t shown, and Jack decided not to wait up for him. The two would catch up tomorrow. The man apparently needed his shut-eye.

Jack decided to hit the hay himself when a knock came at his door. Dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, he went over to the door and opened it, surprised to see Kevin Myers standing there.

“What’s up, Kevin? Everything all right?”

The guy looked visibly shaken. “Can I come in?”

Jack was tired—his bed calling him—but the kid looked like he really needed someone to talk to. Figuring
he would
put the guy’s mind at ease after a few minutes, he told him to come in. 

He shut the door behind Kevin, then sat on his bed. The kid remained standing. “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of the desk.

Kevin began pacing back and forth, obviously upset about something.

“Talk to me,” Jack said.  

“I found something out.” The kid continued pacing. “Some really bad stuff.”

“Okay,” Jack said, thinking the poor kid had heard awful news about a family member or something to that effect. Then it hit him: “Are they going to nuke the city?”

“No. God no. Nothing like that.”

Jack let out a breath, feeling his body relax.

“Kevin,” he said,
“
why don’t you sit down and talk to me. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

The kid shook his head and continued to pace, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so. He finally stopped, and faced Jack. “They were testing the bots on people, Jack. On fucking people. Homeless people. Taking them off the streets, promising them money and a quick stay in the lab. But it was all a lie.”

When Jack was initially told about the bot program, it hadn’t occurred to him who or what the test subjects were.
He had
assumed lab animals, rats and whatnot. But people? He supposed after the bots were tested on animals, the results being positive, that people
,
volunteers
,
would be next to be tested on. It made sense, and was after all what the pharmaceutical companies did.

“You’re saying they’re using people against their will?” 

“Yes. Torturing and killing them in the process.
Now
, with the city the way it is, their supply is low. Maybe even gone for all I know.”

“There are people here, besides the employees? Civilians?”

“You remember that locked door we talked about earlier, the one by Reynolds’ office?”

“C-wing. Yeah.”

“That’s where the people were kept and experimented on. C-wing is filled with labs and rooms; rooms where they keep the subjects locked up. There were over thirty homeless people in there at one point. But now . . .”
T
he kid shook his head. “Now they might all be dead.” 

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Of course I’m sure. Doc Reynolds has been torturing them. Infecting them, seeing how long they last, pumping them full of fluids, nutrients, then shocking them to kill the things before starting all over. But most of them die after a few times, too weakened to continue, their bodies giving out.”

“Who told you this?”

“One of the guards. A guy named Devon. After a night of cards and heavy
drinking,
we went back to his room. We talked about our families. He kept drinking. I asked him about that locked door
,
where it went. He laughed, then told me everything. How Dr. Reynolds was taking homeless people and locking them up, experimenting on them, like something out of a horror movie. He said he had no idea if there were any left alive, and the only reason he sent you out was in the hope you’d bring back more people. People for him to experiment on.

“The next day
,
I thought I’d be called into Reynolds’ office for a chat, as I’m not supposed to know about what’s really going on, but never was. Devon said nothing to me about it again. I think he was so drunk he
must have
blacked out. Doesn’t remember telling me about it. He was so hung-over the next day he could barely stand without wanting to puke.”

Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Dr. Reynolds was a monster. A modern Frankenstein. No wonder the man had been acting strange earlier.

Kevin was pacing again, like a Bengal tiger at the zoo.

“All right,” Jack said. “Calm down. Take a seat and we’ll figure this out.”

The kid stopped, looked Jack in the eyes. He laughed coldly, then said, “You don’t get it. He’s run out of people, and hasn’t gotten the bots to work properly yet.”

“So?”

“So he needs subjects. You and your friend are next.”

Jack felt as if
he had
been slapped. A lump formed in his throat that he tried unsuccessfully to swallow.

“You shouldn’t have come back, Jack. You should’ve stayed up there, tried to leave the city.”

Jack shook his head. There was no way anyone was leaving the city without using the escape tunnel or a helicopter. He was nothing but a trapped lab rat now. But thanks to the kid, he was aware, and could do something about it.

“Why did you tell me this?” 

“I . . . I don’t know.” Kevin shook his head quickly, then ran a hand over his scalp. “You’re my friend, Jack, and this has been eating away at me for days. I can’t sleep or eat. After fighting overseas, returning home and getting this assignment, I figured this would be a great place to be. A safe working environment. I feel like I’ve been tricked—sent to work for the Devil.”