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Authors: Jill Williamson

Replication (20 page)

BOOK: Replication
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Her heart fluttered. She could feel his strong arms trembling around her. She wanted to stay here forever in the safety of those arms.

Something shifted beside them. Abby pulled back, saw Baby staring from Marty to her and back to Marty, whose eyes slowly opened. Breathless, he hefted her in his arms, stepped forward, and settled her into the cramped dumbwaiter. With extreme care he began tucking her boots inside and smoothing her hair, which clung to the wall with static.

“Will Baby fit also?” he asked.

Wha …? Not a word about the kiss? No cute thank you or asking for a second? “I … um … I think so.” She squished into the corner, tucking her body into itself.

Marty helped Baby inside. Now that they were so close, she noted the little guy smelled like a hospital. He sat on Abby’s toes, wedging his feet next to her left hip.
Cozy
was not quite the right word. Sardines said it better.

“Baby, you must stay with Abby,” Marty said. “She will keep you safe.” His eyes met hers, all business. “Send the
dumwater
back down so I know you got out.” Marty gripped the door to swing it shut.

“Marty.” Abby grabbed his arm. She had never felt like this about any guy. She couldn’t just leave him behind. What if he couldn’t escape? What if he wouldn’t? “You’re coming up next, right?”

Marty’s eyes flickered away. Under the low lights, his long eyelashes cast geometric shadows down his cheeks. His words came in a strained whisper: “I must help your father destroy Dr. Kane’s research.”

Tears welled in Abby’s eyes. It made sense that he and her dad should try and stop Dr. Kane, but she didn’t want to leave them behind. “Marty, you can’t do this alone. Come up with us. We’ll go get the cops. Helpful ones this time.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “We want the same things,
Abby Goyer. But I cannot yell at policemen or push buttons on a cell phone to convince anyone I speak truth. That’s your way. My way is to use my hands, my head, and see my goal accomplished with my own eyes. That’s what works best for me.”

Abby swallowed. “But you’ll come up as soon as you destroy the files, right?”

He closed his eyes. “Good-bye, Abby Goyer. Pray that the Creator of Everything will help me.” Marty swung the metal door closed with a snap and everything went black.

Baby whimpered and shifted with a force that shook the metal box.

Abby’s throat felt ready to close up. She blinked back her tears and groped around in the dark until she found Baby’s hand. She squeezed it. “It’ll be okay, Baby.”

But she couldn’t convince herself.

A sudden hum jerked the dumbwaiter up. A flood of heat tingled over Abby. Yes, she would soon be above ground. Free, unless the guards were waiting. She hadn’t thought to look for a camera in the kitchen.

The dumbwaiter continued to rise. Abby hoped the door would open from the inside. She didn’t want to be stuck in this tiny, dark space any longer than necessary. The kitchen was on level two, but there was no guessing how far underground level one began.

Claustrophobia and the darkness brought more maniacal
CSI
-like musings as she rode topside. The episode where one of the characters had been buried alive had always creeped her out. She chewed on her thumbnail and continued to squeeze Baby’s hand while considering the myriad of ways this could play out.

A faint sucking bled into the hum of the machine lifting them. Baby had pacified himself with his thumb. Must be nice. Abby’s nail chewing never brought actual relief.

Not like being with Marty had.

The dumbwaiter jerked to a stop. Abby scrambled for the latch, pulled, and exhaled when the door clicked open. A burst of cold air filled the tiny space, sending a shiver over Abby’s sweaty body.

Praise God
.

“Baby, you’ve got to get out first.” She wiggled her toes to urge him along.

As Baby eased his feet out the hole, the door swung wide with a jerk. Abby screamed.

“I’ve got people here, in the dumbwaiter.” A young police officer peered inside at Abby. “Are you Abigail Goyer?”

“Yes.”

The officer turned and told someone behind him, “One of them is the girl.”

The girl?

Baby kicked and moaned as the officer helped him out the door.

“It’s okay, Baby.” Abby pivoted and pushed her legs out the hole. A maddening tickle inched through her feet, legs, and rear end. She gasped and shook her lower limbs, desperate for blood flow.

The officer reached in, grabbed her waist, and lifted her out. He was a state trooper, young with black hair and cheeks pink from the cold. His name badge read
WESLEY
.

“Miss Goyer?” Officer Runstrom appeared at her side. “Could you come with me, please?”

Abby scowled at Runstrom and folded her arms. If he would have listened to her in the first place …

“Please?” Runstrom added in a small voice.

Abby shut the dumbwaiter and sent it back down, earning a puzzled look from both officers. She took Baby’s hand and followed Runstrom down the row of aluminum storage cabinets and through the metal vault door, which had been opened somehow. It was slightly warmer inside the small, steel-walled chamber. A wide elevator covered the wall opposite the entry door; she hoped Marty or her father would come through it. The officers seemed to be turning the area into a makeshift command central. Runstrom walked behind a small, black desk to her right. Three more chairs lined the fourth wall.

Wesley ran into the room behind her, holding a black bundle. He draped a scratchy wool blanket over Abby’s shoulders. She passed it to Baby, and Wesley handed her a second blanket.

She pointed to Baby’s bare feet. “He needs shoes or socks or something.”

“I’ll see what I can find.” Wesley left again.

Abby tucked the blanket around Baby and helped him sit down in one of the empty chairs against the wall. She sat in the seat beside him and the cold leather crackled under her weight.

Runstrom was intensely studying a monitor.

Abby’s shoulder throbbed, but she didn’t want to be taken to the hospital before she knew Marty and her dad were safe. “Officer, what made you change your mind?”

“A couple things happened all at once.” Runstrom folded his hands and leaned forward on the desk. “First, your car was found, wrecked and abandoned. Then your friend, Kylee Wallace, brought this sketch to us along with some interesting paperwork. She also brought her brother, Scott Wallace, who corroborated your story. But what really did it was another fellow, named Jim Markley. Markley had a photograph of his wife standing next to a young JD Kane. Only he seemed to think it wasn’t JD at all, but your boyfriend, Marty.”

When this is all over, I’m getting Kylee the most amazing thank-you gift she could ever imagine
. Abby gestured to the vault door. “How’d you get this door open?”

“Markley found a keycard in his wife’s things. Just one, unfortunately. But it worked to open the outside door. We discovered we’ll need two to work the elevator.”

“Were there guards in here?”

“Just one, named Stan Chestnut. Shredded his keycard when he saw us coming. We’ve already taken him in for questioning. We’ve got this place locked down, above ground, anyway. We were securing our search warrant for this location when a call came in from a Dr. Kane. Claims a Dr. Edward Elliot is holding him and your father hostage. We’re waiting for his demands now. Anyway … I understand your boyfriend drew this floor plan?” He nodded toward Baby, his forehead wrinkled. “Is that him?”

“No. Marty’s still inside. With my dad. But that phone call
must have been some kind of scam. Dr. Kane is in charge here. Dr. Elliot works for
him
.”

“Employees sometimes turn on their boss. Problem is, we can’t get this elevator opened, and the elevator expert is still on his way. In the meantime, I’d like to send a man down the dumbwaiter, but it’s not on this sketch.” He smoothed his hands over Marty’s floor plan of Jason Farms. “Could you show me where it comes out inside the … farm?”

Abby studied the drawing and pointed at the kitchen. “It’s here. But there’s a better way in.” She turned the map to face her and showed him the end of the hallway on level two. “A tunnel enters the facility, right here. I just don’t know where the entrance is.”

“A tunnel?”

“After those jerks ran me off the road, they took me into the woods and through a storm cellar-type door, which led to a tunnel about two hundred yards out from the Farm. There were two doors that required two keycards each, but they weren’t vault doors. I bet you guys can break them down.”

Runstrom picked up a CB radio and spoke into it. “Allam. Get in here. We’ve got another entrance.” He glanced at the monitor on the desk and frowned, leaning closer to the small screen.

Abby circled the desk and looked over his shoulder, staring at the black and white image. She gasped. Her dad was strapped to a table in one of the labs. And Dr. Elliot stood over him.

[CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE]

T
HE DUMBWAITER RETURNED EMPTY.
Creator of Everything, please keep Abby and Baby safe
. Martyr listened at the door of the kitchen until he was certain he heard no voices. The Jasons were either at the elevator or had gone back toward the stairs.

He eased open the door. The cafeteria was deserted and there was no sign of anyone near the entrance to the elevator. Martyr edged along the wall and peeked down the hallway to the stairs.

He stood there a moment, unsure what to do. He needed to finish Dr. Goyer’s plans and destroy the computers on level one. He touched the top of the single keycard, tucked safely into his waistband. The stairwell was his only option.

Martyr eased gently down the hallway. He had almost reached the doors when they flew open, releasing Iron Man, Fido, and the others into the corridor. Martyr turned around and sprinted for the children’s play structure.

Iron Man yelled, “Go get ‘em, boy!”

Martyr bounded over the spongy playground floor and darted under the slide just as Fido swiped sharp, ungroomed fingernails across Martyr’s cheek. Martyr scrambled back and put up both hands as a barrier. Past Fido, he could see the crowd huddled on the edge of the playground, watching with wide-eyed stares. Iron Man stood in the center of the boys, arms folded across his muscular chest.

Martyr tried to reason as Fido inched nearer. “We can defeat the doctors if we work as a team. We’re stronger together.”

Iron Man scowled. “You lie more than the guards, Martyr. Did you learn that from your woman?”

Fido made another swipe, forcing Martyr to dash from under the slide and scramble up its slippery surface. He stopped on the top of the playground structure.

“That’s right, run away,” Iron Man yelled. “You always do.”

“Fight him, Martyr!” Teddy, a J:4, yelled.

“Yeah!”

“Go, Martyr!”

Martyr did not want to hurt Fido, but it seemed he had no choice as long as Fido stood in the way of destroying Dr. Kane’s computers. What would the Creator say to that? Would God forgive him if he hurt Fido on purpose? Martyr scanned the Jasons who stood watching, calling his name. They wanted him to fight. They wanted Fido to lose.

Fido tried to climb the slide on his hands and knees, but his pants caused him to slip backward.
Forgive me
. Martyr grabbed the bar that ran across the top of the slide and vaulted down the plastic chute. He crashed into Fido, and they landed in a tangled heap on the floor.

Fido growled and scratched, and finally sank his teeth into Martyr’s hand. Years of anger went into Martyr’s free fist as he
punched Fido’s cheek with all his strength, then he punched him again in the temple. Fido slumped to the floor and lay motionless.

Martyr rose to sit on his heels and wiped his bloody knuckles off on his shirt. Both hands shook beyond his control and throbbed—one from the bite, the other from the force of his punches. He glanced at Iron Man. Their eyes met in a silent challenge.

Martyr stood and stepped around Fido. “Fighting with each other solves nothing. We need both keycards to get outside.” He drew the keycard out from his waistband and held it up. “We must work together.”

“But what about the stingers?” Brain asked. “As soon as we try anything, they’ll activate them.”

“Dr. Goyer turned them off.” At least Martyr hoped Dr. Goyer had accomplished that part of the plan.

“You’re sure?” Iron Man asked.

“No. But Dr. Goyer promised to leave a tool in the computer room in case he failed. If we can get there, we can cut the stingers off.” Martyr lifted his pant leg to show that his stinger ring was gone. Dr. Elliot had been about to put on another one when Abby had arrived.

Iron Man stared for a long moment, nodded once, and turned toward the stairs. “Let’s go then.”

Martyr walked down the hall with Iron Man, watching for any sudden movements from the muscular Jason. The boys followed, mumbling to each other.

“Where is your
woman
?” Iron Man asked.

Martyr paused, searching to find the best way to explain her disappearance. “She’s hiding with Baby. I’ll come back for them once we defeat the doctors.”

“Did you really see outside?” Brain asked. “Was there sky? Did you see clouds?”

“When I first went out, it was night,” Martyr said. “The sky is black at night, and it is filled with tiny lights called stars. They don’t look like the stars Dr. Max uses on our charts, though. They’re dots of light.”

“The sun is a star,” Brain said. “Did you see the sun?”

“Yes,” Martyr said. “In the morning the room was bright, but no lights were turned on.”

Brain’s eyes widened. “The light came from the sun?”

“It shone through the windows.”

Brain frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“The windows in Abby’s house look outside on the trees and snow and sky. The sun was a pale yellow ball in the sky. It hurt my eyes to look at it. Abby says at night the sun goes down and the moon comes up.”

“Did you see the moon?” someone behind him asked. They stopped at the entrance to the stairwell, where the Jasons crowded around Martyr.

“Abby says the moon can only be seen sometimes. I did not see it.”

Iron Man opened the door to the stairwell. “Come on.”

They took the stairs to level one. Iron Man stopped at the door and handed Martyr his keycard. “What should we do?”

The Jasons all fixed their eyes on Martyr. He swallowed. “We must destroy the computer server.”

“What’s that?” Teddy asked.

How had Dr. Goyer described it? “It’s several boxes that hold information about how we were created. If we leave without destroying it, Dr. Kane can make more of us.”

Iron Man snorted. “I don’t care if he makes more. I want to leave, now.”

Several Jasons voiced their agreement.

Martyr raised his voice. “
First
we destroy the computers. Then we restrain Dr. Kane, Dr. Elliot, and the guards. After that we find Dr. Goyer. He’ll help us gather the rest of the boys. No one will be left behind.”

Iron Man did not look happy but said, “Fine. Where is this
computer
?”

“According to Dr. Goyer, the computer room is the monitor room, just across the hall from here.” Martyr ran his keycard through the slot and opened the door. He crossed the hall, peeked
into the rectangular window on the door, and snapped back. “Rolo, Johnson, and Erik are in there.”

Iron Man cracked his knuckles. “I’ll gladly take care of Rolo.”

Martyr looked around the group and turned to Brain. “You take Erik, I’ll take Johnson. The rest of you help however you can. Ready?”

The boys all nodded, and Iron Man burst through the door.

Johnson rose from his chair as Martyr entered. “Look out!”

Rolo turned and fumbled for his stick. “How’d they get past the—”

Iron Man knocked Rolo to the floor with one punch. Martyr tried the same with Johnson, but the burly man ducked to the side and whacked Martyr’s arm with his stick. Martyr shrank back, reminded why he rarely fought. Still reeling, he turned to his right, where a mob of boys had ganged up on Erik.

A shadow appeared on Martyr’s left: Hummer, grabbing Johnson’s neck from behind. In response, the guard spun around and whacked the boy with his stick. Hummer went down into a ball.

Iron Man stepped beside Martyr. “Allow me.”

Before Martyr could answer, a crash turned every head. Brain had slammed into a table that held dozens of small monitors and stretched along the back wall. He lay on the floor, limbs shaking, a silent cry on his lips.

Then Teddy screamed and fell to the floor, his body convulsing. A shiver raced over Martyr.

The stingers still worked.

Martyr ran to the end of the table and reached behind the monitors, searching wildly for the tool Dr. Goyer had left. He spun back to Johnson in time to see Iron Man punch the guard several times, attempting to force Johnson off his feet. Then Iron Man went rigid, grunted, as if fighting the sting. Bean Bag, a scrawny J:6, picked up a monitor and smashed it over Johnson’s head. The guard staggered a moment, dropped his stick, and slid to his knees.

Andre—J:5:1—stood over Erik, watching with a proud grin as two J:5s kicked the unconscious guard over and over. Bean
Bag pounded Johnson’s limp body with a stick. The others stood watching, cheering as blood matted Johnson’s scalp.

Bean Bag dropped the stick and fell to the floor screaming.

Iron Man went to one knee, still grunting against the electricity shooting into his body. Martyr scanned the room. Who to free first? Half the boys were down, though a few still fought without difficulty. Charlie, the round-headed J:5 who wore only underwear, kicked Erik again. Hyde, the other J:5 kicking Erik, wore only his sweatpants. Neither had shirts.

“Stop!” Martyr yelled.

The Jasons froze.

“Take off your shirts. If they can’t see our numbers, it’s harder for them to activate the stingers.”

White shirts flew around the room as the remaining boys tossed them to the floor. Martyr counted eight bare-chested boys left. But the Jason he needed most lay on the floor whimpering. Iron Man would be no more help until his stinger was disabled.

Martyr dug the keycards from his waistband. “Andre?”

The brawny J:5 stepped forward.

“Take Hyde and Newton and Schroder to the security room.” Martyr crouched at Andre’s side and clipped off the stinger the way Dr. Goyer had done for him. “Go to the left, and it’s the first door at the end of the hall. There should only be one man in there.” Martyr stepped over to Hyde and clipped his stinger ring. “He’s the one who turns on the stingers. Once you take him down, put him in an isolation room.” Martyr clipped off Newton’s ring, then handed the keycards to Andre. “Go. Quickly. And make sure you take his keycards.”

The Jasons ran into the hallway.

Martyr handed the tool to Charlie. “Clip off the rest of the stingers.” Martyr bent over Rolo and pulled the key ring off his belt. Martyr found a similar one on Johnson and Erik, all containing two keycards. He removed Erik’s belt and strapped it on underneath his T-shirt, then hung all the keycard rings on it.

Once Charlie had cut Iron Man’s stinger off, Iron Man pushed to his feet. “What can I do?”

“When the rest of you are strong enough, take Johnson, Erik, and Rolo to the isolation rooms.”

Brain stood up. “I’m strong enough now.”

“Me … too,” said Teddy, who was still sitting on the floor, panting.

While the boys started dragging the guards toward the door, Martyr turned to the monitors. They showed pictures of everything on the Farm. He saw Andre and Hyde dragging a man out of a door on one monitor.

He saw the small boys asleep in their beds on another.

Another one showed Dr. Kane’s spacious office. Dr. Kane sat behind his desk, talking on the phone.

On another monitor, Dr. Goyer struggled against the straps that held him to the table in a lab room. Martyr’s fists clenched. How had Dr. Kane realized that Dr. Goyer had been helping Martyr? He would have to be freed next.

Several monitors showed deserted rooms throughout the Farm, including the cafeteria.

Martyr looked to the next monitor and saw Abby and a man at a desk. His heart leapt, and he put his fingers to her image on the glass. She sat beside Runstrom, the police officer who had turned Martyr over to Dr. Kane. He didn’t look angry with Abby; could he have learned the truth about Jason Farms? Yes, Martyr was sure of it. He was going to help. They would soon be safe.

Though they weren’t rescued yet. Martyr remembered what he came to do and sought out the computer server. Dr. Goyer had said it was several computers hooked together with wires under the table. He crouched down and spotted the computers against the far wall.

He crawled to them and sat cross-legged in front. The computer boxes hummed. Martyr pulled the cords out from the wall. The humming noises died. He tugged the first one out from under the table and pulled it into the center of the room, then went back for the next. By the time the Jasons had returned, Martyr had all the boxes in the center of the room.

“Done,” Andre said. “What now?”

Martyr returned to the monitors to check each area in case anything had changed. His eyes stopped at an image of the stairwell: A Jason was coming up. He looked to be at least a J:3 or J:4, but it wasn’t Fido, and a quick glance confirmed all the others were here or shown on different monitors.
Who is he?

The mystery Jason turned the corner to climb the next flight, and Martyr caught the number on his sleeve before he stepped out of view.

J:3:3.

Martyr felt a wave of dizziness run through his head. When he was able to focus again, he found the Jason using a keycard at the top if the stairwell, trying to get onto level one.

Martyr tensed. “Lock the door and turn off the light. Now!”

In the darkness, Martyr watched as the stranger opened the door. But instead of walking confidently through the hall, the fake J:3:3 stepped into the hall and paused, looking like he’d never been to level one before. How could that be? Every Jason made it upstairs at least once a week.

The Jason finally chose a direction and walked down the hall. Whoever it was, he seemed harmless, but Martyr was afraid to lead the boys to the front and try the elevators with Dr. Kane, Dr. Elliot, and the mystery Jason up there.

“Turn the lights back on, Andre,” Martyr said.

When the switch flipped, Martyr saw every Jason was looking at him expectantly.

“Iron Man?” Martyr removed two sets of keycards off his belt and handed them to Iron Man. “Take everyone downstairs to level two. Enter the double doors that lead to the elevator, then turn right and walk to the end of the hallway. There’s a door there—try the keycards to see if it will open. You and Andre will have to swipe a keycard at the same time. If the door opens, get all the Jasons out and wait for me in the tunnel. Hummer and Bean Bag, stay with me. The rest of you, go with Iron Man.”

“You heard him,” Iron Man said, sounding like Rolo. The boys obeyed just as quickly as they once would have for the guard and scurried out the door.

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