Program 12 (2 page)

He gripped me by my throat, pulling me closer to him. I wanted to scream in agony as he yanked my
hard-drive
out of the slot in my Pod. But I didn’t. I couldn’t dare show him that I was weak. “You were everything I hoped for when I took over this business. You,” he shoved his free hand into my chest. “You were pe
rfect. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I was perfect. But then you killed me. Do you remember that?”

McVeigh removed his hand from my throat and walked over
to
the Security Tube. “Hayden?” he tapped on the glass. “Cou
ld you come here for a second?”

The boy looked nervous. “Y-y-
yes, sir. I’ll be right there.”

He exited the tube and stood beside McVeigh, who was leaning against the tube, hands folded at his wai
st. “You’re new here, correct?”

“Correct.” The boy
glanced over at me and smiled.

“Do you understand
what we are trying to do here?”

“I was told that we’re building a b
etter society,” Hayden replied.

“A better society?” McVeigh scoffed. “Here, at Vesta Corp, we aim to build a
perfect
society.”

“By killing your fellow humans?” I countered. “Because
that just makes perfect sense.”

McVeigh lowered his hand
to his waist. A black pouch hung from his belt
loop. He reached inside of the
pouch, and he pulled out a small
hard-drive
. “We can fix this, Program. We can exchange your
hard-drive
.
We
can
act as if this never happened.”

“I’d rather you kill me again.”

He laughed. “Did you hear that, Hayden?”

Hayden nodded, choosing to remain silent.

“Well then, I suppose it is time to get this over with. Hayden, why don’t you fetch m
e the guards from the hallway?”

“But sir,” he whispered. “Can’t we just erase her
? Surely she’s still valuable.”

“I believe I just gave you an order.” McVeigh hissed. “Either you fetch the guards, or you’ll be
joining Jessica below.”

I watched as Hayden exited the room, leaving me with Charles McVeigh. It’d be easy to kill him. It’d take a few seconds at the most. He wouldn’t be able to defeat me. I could take him out now and
possibly escape this hellhole.

Maybe I’d e
ven be able to stop Vesta Corp.

Maybe I
’d be able to save a few lives.

Maybe I’d –

There was tugging on my lower back, and I could feel someone yanking on my
hard-drive
. I tried focusing on what was going on, but I could barely make out where I was. A pair of dress shoes stood in my line of sight. “Is if safe to transport her in her current state?” Someone asked.

“She’s us
eless like this, I assure you.”

Restraints were secured around my wrists and feet. “We don’t want anyone getting hurt now.” McVeigh whispered in my ear. His hand moved towards my lower back. He pulled on my
hard-drive
and for a mom
ent everything turned to black.

Something clicked in my back, and I could feel my body restarting. “What did you do?” I tried to sound threatening, but th
e words barely escaped my lips.

“The last thing we want is for your
hard-drive
to be accidentally installed on a newer Program,” he smirked. “I changed it back to ensure we get rid of
the problem once and for all.”

“You piece of –“

“Now, now, Twelve. Show some respect.” McVeigh slapped me across the face. “Guards, bring Tw
elve to the deactivation room.”

The guards gripped my forearms tightly as the
y dragged me from the Pod room.

I made eye contact with their newest monster. Program Thirteen. The poor girl didn’t have a clue as to what she was, or what they’d done to her. I could see it in her eyes. I could see her desire to satisfy Ch
arles McVeigh and his servants.

I remembered that feeling. I remembered wanting to be the perfect Program; wanting to do anything it took to live amongst the humans, because that was what I was created to do, af
ter all. But I knew better now.

I knew that everything they’d said, everythi
ng they’d taught us, was wrong.

They erased our former lives and implanted new ones. They erased us in order to gain control. That was all Charles McVeigh cared about: control. And he had control at Vesta Corp. He decided who he wanted for his next Program. He decided what we knew. He decided when we were no longer useful to the company. He decided everything, because as long as our Programs remained intact,
we would obey his every desire.

But I wouldn’t. Not anymore. Not now that I knew the truth. Not now when I knew who I was. I was Jocelyn Lawrence, a twenty-year-old resident of
Seattle
,
Washington
. I had a family: two brothers, a mother and a father. I had a lif
e before they stole it from me.

And so did she - Thirteen. She deserved to know the truth. She deserved to know what they’d done to her. I tried to push forward, to break-free from
their hold, but it didn’t work.

“You can’t control me!” I screamed. “I know who I am. I know what it is that you are doing here! I will stop this. Do you understand? I will find a way to get the tru
th out there to the others!”

“I’m sure you will.” One of the guard
s laughed. “I’m sure you will.”

They pulled me further down the hall, away from Thirteen, away from the others. We stopped in front of two large metal doors. “Program identification,” a vo
iced boomed over an intercom.

“Program Twelve
,” one of the guards responded.

“And who ordered the dea
ctivation?” The voice demanded.

“Charles McVeigh ordered Pro
gram Twelve to be deactivated.”

“Thank you.” A loud buzz sounded as the two doors opened up. “P
rogram, please enter the room.”

The guards released their hold on my forearms and shoved me inside the room. “Guess you won’t be spreading the tru
th after all, huh?” He smirked.

I turned around to run after him, but the doors slammed shut before I
could reach him

The room was dark, and eerily quiet. I tried scanning for an escape, but the only way out appeared to be the same way I’d come in. And those doors could only be opened
from the control room. “Shit.”

“Hello to you, too.” A large monitor beamed to life across from me, showcasing an older man who appeared to be in his sixties. He wore a white coat, like the others, and an identification card that read Rupert
Sounders, Head of Deactivation.

“How does it feel
to be a murderer?” I asked him.

“Me? A murderer?” he smirked. “By the time Programs like you re
ach me, they are already dead.”

“One of these days, one of McVeigh’s precious Programs will successfully take down this company,” I warned. “And when they do, I hope you remember my face, because I’m only the
beginning of what is to come.”

“I highly doubt that’ll happen.” The monitor died, killing off the only source of light in the room. I could hear footsteps behind me, but I refused to turn and look. “I highly doubt that’ll happen because McVeigh has already taken care of the problem. Jessica is gone now, and the other caretakers are far too loyal to attempt a Program alteration.”

“That’s what you think.” I thought back to the boy in the Security Tube. His bright blue eyes – eyes full of hope. They didn’t see what I did. They saw a boy desperate to impress McVeigh. But he was capable of destroying Vesta Corp. He was capable of ending this. Their own ign
orance would be their downfall.

“Goodbye, Twelve.” A voice whispered in my ear. A hand tugged on my
hard-drive
. I could feel my body shutting down, a
nd I let out one final warning.

“Soon,” I told him. “Soon.”

Continue reading for a sneak peek at “Program 13”…

The small, black phone buzzed inside of my coat pocket. I did not have to look to see who it was. My mother was calling to see when I would be heading home. I didn’t bother to answer; I’d be leaving soon enough.

Tommy walked me through the front door, his hand never leaving mine, even as we squeezed our way through the tiny doorframe.

“Do you really have to go?” He sighed.

“Oh, stop.” I pushed him gently as I turned to face him. My hand pressed against his chest. I pulled myself closer to him, nuzzling my head against his chest. Tommy wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on top of my head. I wanted to stay here, just like this, but I knew it was impossible. My mother was waiting on me; I should have been home by now.

The phone started buzzing again.

“Tommy, I have to go.” Slowly, he backed away from me, his blond hair shining under the moonlight. I stood there for a moment gazing at the boy in front of me, the boy whom I planned to start a life with someday.

Noticing I had not made an effort to leave, his lips turned up in a smile. “You’re doing a great job of leaving.” He smirked. He started to walk towards me again. His hands were out stretched as if to pull me back. But I needed to go. I was already running late, and I was not in the mood to argue with my mother.

“Sorry.” I laughed as I turned to walk down the porch steps. The sound of wood creaking followed closely with each step I took. “I’ll call you when I get home.” I turned around on the last step and smiled at him once more, still trying to force myself to leave. That was when the phone started buzzing again.

"I’m coming," I whispered, turning towards the dark street in front of me.

I began walking down the sidewalk, headed for an alleyway near my house. The streetlights were out, just like they were every night.
Were they ever going to get those fixed?
I wondered. Probably not. Fixing the streetlights did not seem like a priority. After all, they had been out for months now.

I looked down at the uneven and cracked sidewalk, my hands in my coat pocket. The hood hid my blond hair from view. The world around me was quiet as everyone sought sleep. There were no children outside and no lights on in the houses lining the street. It was pitch black outside, peaceful even.

The stillness crumbled as an engine roared to life behind me. Headlights flickered on, illuminating my surroundings. I could feel my heart pounding with fear.
Walk faster
, I told myself,
just get the hell out of here
.

The alleyway was right in front of me; I decided to make a run for it hoping to avoid the car. But as I approached the alley, the car began to speed up. I kept running, my breath becoming more erratic with each movement. My chest was beginning to tighten. I was out of shape and I felt as though I was about to hurl. I stopped to rest, unable to go any farther.

That was the worst thing I could have done.

The second I stopped, the car plowed into me, knocking my body to the ground. I could feel the warm blood pooling around me. "No!" I tried to cry out, but my words got lost in my throat. My eyes began to blur; my eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. I tried lifting myself up, hoping to find help, but I was unable to move.

Footsteps approached me followed by bits of laughter. Fighting to look, I saw two men stop beside me. Both were thin and pale. One looked older than the other, his face masked with wrinkles. The dark-haired one bent down to look at me, his lips turned up into a smile. “Perfect,” he whispered. The man took to his feet, making his way back to the black sedan.

I could hear the trunk open, but I was not sure what they were doing. Why had they followed me? Were they going to leave me here to die? The two men were whispering. I tried to listen, but their voices were too low. Unable to fight any longer, I closed my eyes and lay in the blood pooling below my body. It was only then that I knew I was not getting out of here alive.

The leather straps constricted my wrists forcing me to endure the electric current soaring through my body. With each jolt of energy, the wires beneath my skin buzzed, sending a shrill throughout my core. Programmed to respond to pain, my body flung forward involuntarily.

“Pain is a natural reaction,” they told us. “It’s a part of being human. It is something you will better understand once your human identity is finally installed.”

But no matter how much I might look human, I was not.