Authors: Jeff Gunhus
“This isn’t science. What you’re doing is murdering kids for an insane delusion.”
“But hasn’t science always been pushed forward by men who chased their ‘delusions’ and proved them right? Copernicus, Pasteur, Newton, Einstein. All delusional fools who found truth where others saw impossibility. Hasn’t truth always been victimized by the limited creativity of the scientific minds charged with uncovering it? Progress stalls until someone is willing to challenge the boundaries. Newton was heretic for saying Aristotle was wrong. Then Einstein came along and explained Newton was wrong. Then Stephen Hawking challenges everything once again. Think about it. Even our most basic understanding of life has changed. We had immutable laws that governed requirements for life to exist. Then organisms were found around volcanic vents at the bottom of the ocean, living in conditions that our laws told us were impossible. If it were up to you, scientists would have looked at the evidence and said, ‘Hypnosis’, ‘Drug-induced hallucinations,’ and left the laws as they were. But we didn’t. We rewrote the laws about what it meant to be alive.”
“That’s different. What you’re talking about is…”
“Is what? Impossible? Or just against the natural laws that you learned from medical textbooks? Maybe there are no laws, Lauren, only frontiers that we’ve reached. The spot on the other side of the frontier is not impossible, it’s just the unknown.” He slid closer to her. “You’re confused and scared and that’s understandable. But like it or not, I’ve found a way to take the life force of a human being and turn it into something tangible. Something storable. Something transferable.” Dr. Mansfield lowered his voice. “Can you imagine what we could do if we gave this gift to the world? Can you imagine how it would change everything?”
“Jack described a cave where women were kept in cages. Bred for this insane idea. Is that what you mean by changing the world?”
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Mansfield said with a wave of his hand. “A terrible thing. Very primitive. That’s why my research is so important. Once I develop a synthetic method to replicate the function of the Source in the cave, we can use manufactured genetic material. With this done, the Source will no longer be needed. Huckley believes there’s a supernatural force behind this, but I’m convinced it’s a biological process. The Source is an organism that absorbs organic material for its own survival and produces a fluid as a residual by-product. This fluid, when ingested, actually changes cellular function to protect from disease and deterioration. Somewhat like oxygen produced by plants: the by-product sustains human life. I’ve tried to replicate the serum, but you’ve sent the results.”
“Wait, you said manufactured genetic material. What do you mean?”
“Cloning, of course. That’s why the time has come to reveal the serum to the world. Now that the human cloning has been successful, we can create specimens specifically for this purpose. Engineered for minimal brain function, subjects can be mass produced. An unlimited supply of material without the moral issues.”
“
Without the moral issues
. Just because science can do something, doesn’t mean it should. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you sense the evil in all of this?”
He ignored her. “I’m close, so close to understanding it. Once I can replicate the process, it will be possible to mass produce the serum. I’m so close. I thought I had it with the Moran girl, but think I know what was wrong. With more test subjects, I can--”
“Test subjects? Is that what you call Felicia Rodriguez? Don’t try to make it sound respectable. She was murdered. She was just a baby for God’s sake, and you murdered her. And that poor girl in the elevator at the hospital was Scott Moran’s daughter? Jesus, don’t you understand, as soon as you go public they’ll lock you away in an asylum? Or, if there’s justice, they’ll fry you in the chair. You are a murderer, nothing more. How could you go this far for this…this stupidity?”
Dr. Mansfield stood up. His cheeks were flush. “I thought you, of all people, would understand what I’m trying to do. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.”
“I’m sure the Nazi doctors in the concentration camps said the same thing,” Lauren said. “You can’t justify murder. I don’t care how you dress it up.”
“Don’t be naïve. We justify murder every day. What do you think about all those Iraqis civilians killed in the war? All those Afghans? Just collateral damage, right? Not really murder? But weren’t they sacrificed so Americans could feel more secure? Weren’t they murdered so you could live? Take it to a different extreme. Didn’t a child die somewhere in the world today of starvation? Didn’t someone die because they didn’t get a ten dollar malaria shot? But you didn’t do anything to stop it, did you? ‘Not your responsibility’ is the rationalization. For the price of the car you drive, you could have saved a hundred children from starvation, but you didn’t. And you didn’t sacrifice them for science. You sacrificed them for your own comfort. Your own hypocrisy damns your argument.” He leaned forward and whispered, “This is science. It’s not personal. I want you to listen, closely, to me. We don’t have much time before the others come back in. There’s a reason I’ve taken the time to tell you all this”
“And what’s that?”
“Since you moved here I knew you were meant to help me to finish my work. I need your insights to finish what I’ve started.”
Lauren stared at him, incredulous. “You think I’ll help you with this madness? That will never happen.”
Dr. Mansfield glanced to the door and held a finger to his lips. “Before, when I asked you if you would sacrifice a thousand children to save the world, you said no. I wonder, does your conviction hold if we change the question to saving one particular child?”
Lauren choked back the emotion that surged inside her as she realized he was talking about Sarah. Only now, with this glimmer of hope, did she realize she had already given herself and her daughter up for dead. Maybe there was a way to save her. “Anything,” she whispered. “I’d do anything.”
“I can save Sarah. Huckley insists we sacrifice her. He believes she holds the key to freeing us from the limits we face, but I can control him.” He dragged his tongue across his dry lips. “If I spare Sarah, will you help me develop the serum?”
Tears swelled in Lauren’s eyes. Just the reference to sparing her daughter was enough to collapse the columns of morality that held up her belief system. Everything she had just argued against seemed to pale next to saving Sarah. Still, a force inside her fought against the abdication. How could she help a madman take innocent lives? What would her daughter’s life mean if it came at that cost? Slowly, her conscience beat back her maternal impulse and concluded that she had to refuse. She had to make a principled stand. But when she opened her mouth, the words that tumbled out were not angry defiance, but a mumbled defeat. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt my baby.”
Dr. Mansfield eyed her carefully. “I’ll have to keep her somewhere until we’re finished on the work. In case you change your mind, you see.”
Lauren nodded.
“These other men, they can’t know about our arrangement. Huckley has filled them with promises about how Sarah will change their lives.”
“But I thought you were the leader.”
“It’s more complicated than that. With these men, I can’t afford to look weak. I have to plan this carefully. If you want to save your daughter, not a word, understand? No matter what happens.”
Lauren nodded her head, remembering the analogy Dr. Mansfield had used earlier about God. She looked up at the doctor and realized she had done exactly what she had accused him of doing. She had made a deal with the devil and there was no going back.
She looked up as voices approached from outside. The door swung open and she saw Huckley, the sheriff and Deputy Sorenson, whom she recognized from the first night in the hospital with Jack.
Janney called out. “What about her, Boss? Are we taking her down with us?”
Dr. Mansfield shook his head. “She stays up here. I’m going to convince her to help with the project.”
Huckley snorted and hawked a gob of spit against the wall. He wrinkled his nose at Lauren as if she were a spoiled piece of meat. “She’ll never help.” He nodded to Deputy Sorenson, “Maybe the kid here can break her spirit a little while we’re gone.”
Sorenson smiled. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Lauren looked to Dr. Mansfield but he avoided her eyes. He had his arm over Janney’s shoulder was walking him outside, talking softly in his ear. Huckley watched them walk out and then turned back to Sorenson. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you can figure it out. Just make sure she’s alive when we get back. Don’t be too gentle though. She won’t learn her lesson unless you bloody her up at least a little.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be my pleasure,” Sorenson said, stepping toward Lauren, his eyes roving over her body.
“Not right now you idiot. Later, when we go down.”
“How long’s that going to be?”
Huckley shot Sorenson a glance that told the deputy his tone of voice alone was enough for Huckley to consider killing him. He shook his head. “We’ll go when we’re ready. When the two of them are done with their little secrets,” he said, jutting a chin toward the doorway through which Dr. Mansfield and Janney had disappeared. “We’ll head down in about fifteen, give Butcher and Moran time to finish up. And son, no matter what happens, don’t you dare come down that elevator shaft.”
Sorenson was still staring at Lauren, shifting his weight from side to side, dragging the palms of his hands across his chest. “Don’t you worry about that. I have plenty up here to keep me occupied.”
Lauren closed her eyes, praying that Dr. Mansfield wasn’t lying and that there was still a chance she could save Sarah. She would endure any pain and indignity from these men, but only if it meant Sarah could go free. Otherwise she thought she would go insane from helplessness. She thought of her poor Jack, locked up in the Midland prison. How terrible the last day must have been for him. But at least he was safe, the publicity of his arrest probably the one thing keeping him alive. At least Becky would have one parent at the end of it all. It was a small consolation, but given the circumstances, it meant everything to her.
You stay alive, Jack,
she murmured under her breath.
You stay alive for our girls
.
Lauren jumped when the scream erupted on the floor beneath her. Her heart sank knowing, as only a parent can, that the sound meant her daughter was in pain. She looked down and saw Sarah struggling to her feet, the shriek coming from her mouth reaching an impossibly high pitch. When Sarah turned toward her mother, Lauren shuddered. Her daughter looked right through her.
“Sarah. It’s all right. Come here,” she called out, trying to reach out toward her.
But her bindings made it impossible to move. Even without the rope around her wrists and legs, she would have frozen in place when she realized Sarah’s screams were actually words.
The same words.
Over and over.
Daddy’s dead! Daddy’s dead! DADDY’S DEAD!
At first he thought there was some kind of mistake. He had felt the water rush over his lips and slide over his tongue on the way down his throat. He remembered knowing the moment had arrived when there wouldn’t be another moment to follow. Time was through with him. It was over.
But there he was, still in the tunnel. Still floating in the dark water. Everything was the same. Except the burning in his chest was gone. And he breathed freely. It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make any sense at all.
Jack looked down at his hands and lifted them to his face. They shimmered like they were made of water. The beam of light from his miner’s helmet shone right through them. With the sight came sensations of his new body. It was loose, not like free falling because that meant motion. It was more like how he imagined walking in space would feel. Smooth and effortless. He felt oddly comfortable with the sensation, as if he was in a place he’d visited before.
Before he had a chance to question where he was, a little girl came and took his hand. He mistook the girl for Sarah and felt a pang of guilt for wishing it had been her. His intuition told him it was better that Sarah was not there with him. It was better that his daughter was someplace else. Even if it meant he never saw her again, it was better than if it were her holding his hand and guiding him forward. Better that is was this strange little girl he didn’t recognize.
He let the girl holding his hand lead him through the tunnel. Even without looking down he knew he wasn’t moving his legs but he still went in the direction he wanted. Forward. Toward the light ahead of him.
“Do you remember me?” the little girl asked.
Jack looked away from the light glowing in front of him and down at the pretty face staring up at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I--”
Then the image hit him, fast like the beat of a strobe light. The side of the girl’s head was caved in. Her face gouged by glass. Bright red blood poured down her neck and chest. Her mouth stretched wide in a scream. Then, a beat of the strobe light later, the girl was back, pure and beautiful.
“Oh God.” It didn’t occur to him to pull his hand away. It didn’t occur to him to be shocked by the little girl’s identity. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I’m so sorry. So sorry”
The girl whispered back, “I know you are.”
Jack didn’t know what to say. Somehow he knew throwing himself at her feet and begging for forgiveness wasn’t allowed. There were rules in this new place. Nothing posted or written, but clearly there were rules. He could feel them.
“Did it hurt?” he asked.
The question felt somehow too personal, too intrusive. But he couldn’t stop it from coming out. He’d spent every day for over a year wanting to know the answer to the question.
“Yes,” Melissa whispered, “there was a lot of pain. Even after I came to this place.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am too,” Melissa said.
She tugged at his hand to continue forward but he pulled back. He choked on his words on his first attempt. He needed to speak the forbidden words out loud.
“That day, the day I…killed you. Everyone said it was an accident. Just one of those tragedies. But that’s not the truth.” He let the tears fall down his cheeks. “It was my fault.”
“You were reckless.”
“Yes,” he whispered. “I was rushing to a meeting about…something, I don’t even remember what it was. Talking on the phone, not paying attention. I knew I was going too fast, but the meeting. I had to make the meeting.” He tried to steady his voice. “I saw you on the bicycle, you know. All the way down the road, but by the time I was at the end of the street I forgot about you. It wasn’t until you were lying there, bleeding to death on my windshield that I realized what I had done.”
“Go on.”
“It wasn’t enough that I killed you, but I let them cover it up. The police. They knew. There were eye-witnesses. But I let them cover it up. You were poor so they looked the other way and I let them. I let everyone believe I was innocent, even my wife. I didn’t tell anyone I was doing seventy on a residential street full of kids. I didn’t pay for my sin. I’m so ashamed.”
The girl was silent for several seconds “The people here told me I should never forgive you. That I should make you pay for what you did. I listened to them. It’s the reason I’m still here.”
Only then did Jack notice the dark forms of people moving in the walls around him. But they weren’t really walls, just dark edges of his vision. The world there was different than where he walked hand-in-hand with Melissa. The place in the darkness was deep and thick with its own viscosity. A black environment where shadow creatures struggled like insects caught in the sinewy stickiness of a spider web. “What is this place? Who are those people?”
“Purgatory. Limbo. Ether. Choose a name. It’s a place for those who are not ready to go home because they don’t want to leave home. Do you understand?”
Jack looked down at the little girl, realizing the small figure was misleading. Melissa Gonzales, killed at the age of eight when she crushed her chest cavity against the front bumper of his car and smashed her head open on his windshield, was no longer a child. She was much more now.
“They are holding on to their lives before they…before…Melissa?”
“Yes, Jack?”
“I died in the river, didn’t I?”
The girl stopped and pulled his hand toward her until his face was even with hers. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek. When she pulled back she gave him a smile so beautiful that Jack felt he might cry. “I forgive you for killing me. I forgive you for everything. I want you to know that.”
Jack choked down a sob as the weight of his guilt dissolved with the girl’s words. He felt shame at his reaction even as he felt awed at her gift to him. ”I don’t deserve it.”
“We all deserve it. I learned that here.” She grasped his hand tightly. “What I told you before was wrong. It doesn’t work to run from the devil. You have to face him and defeat him. You can beat the devil, but only if you’re strong for your family.”
As she spoke the words images flashed in Jack’s mind. The pages of scribbled numbers Sarah wrote with the word ‘run’ scrawled across the back. Albert James whispering in his ear, warning him to take his family away. The voice in his head the night Huckley almost made him take a baseball bat to his family. Jack put it together. “It was you? It was you all along trying to warn me?”
“I’ve stayed to help you, to show that I’ve forgiven you. The men who want to use your daughter must be stopped. There are many here who cannot go home until those men are destroyed. You can stop them. You have to stop them.”
The light ahead of them blossomed, a brilliant flower of light that reached out for them, begged them to walk forward, pleaded for them to surrender to it. Jack was mesmerized but the girl tugged on his hand. She pointed behind them. Jack turned and saw a pale point of light, no more than a candle that seemed a mile away.
Motion. The sensation of falling. The point of light sped toward him, suddenly as big as the sun. And the heat. His skin burned. Jack covered his face to block the pain. But his lungs were filled with fire. It was melting his insides.
God, he was going insane from the pain. He had to get it out. He turned to his side and heaved, expelling the fire, expelling the pain.
When he inhaled, he expected more heat but it wasn’t. It was air. Cool, sweet, beautiful air.
Lonetree’s voice floated into his stirring consciousness, “There you go. Breathe now, breathe.” Jack’s eyes fluttered open and Lonetree’s face hovered over him, a wide smile pasted on it. “You had me a little nervous there. Thought you were gone for good.”
Jack tried to smile, rolled on his side and threw up again.
He was alive. And whether he deserved it or not, he had another chance to make things right.