Synth, p.13
Synth, page 13
My heart faltered in my chest.
“An abomination that should have been eliminated centuries ago,” he continued as his voice grew dark with revulsion. “The worst parts of humanity. Soulless. Heartless. Entirely empty of anything good.”
I opened my mouth. To do what, I wasn’t sure. To argue? To refute his words? To ask him what he meant or why he thought those horrible things were true?
I wasn’t sure what would come from my lips, but I didn’t get to find out. Before I could blink, he yanked his bandaged leg from my grasp and lunged toward me.
I didn’t even have time to process what was happening. He completely caught me off guard. His weight pressed heavy on my chest as my back thudded hard into the ground. My vest pulled against my shoulder and neck as the air left my lungs. He rolled off me before I could grab him, easily evading my startled fumbling.
I made to sit up as I heard him moving away, but my shoulder wouldn’t lift. Then I realized what he’d done. He had jammed his knife through the loop of the fabric strap on my vest, embedding the blade into the dirt all the way to the hilt to pin me to the ground. With a quick yank, I tugged the knife free and sat up in time to see him hobbling out of the tiny cutout—with my helmet and small gear bag in hand.
“What the—” I scrambled to my feet, my eyes going wide as his arm swung back. “Woah, woah, woah! What are you doing!!”
I watched in horror and disbelief as he threw my helmet twenty feet out into the sun, rapidly following after it on his freshly bandaged leg. I chased after him, reaching for my firearm only to find the holster empty. My mouth fell open, a mess of emotions exploding in my chest.
He took my firearm.
He took my helmet.
He took my bag.
He took everything except my gloves in a matter of seconds.
I had underestimated him.
I had completely screwed up. Had this happened while on duty with a fellow Reborn, I would have been sent back to the Academy to relearn my basics. I would have my firearms licence suspended, and I would be stuck on desk duty for a decade.
“Why would you do that?!” I yelled, my voice nearly breaking as I skidded to a stop at the edge of the rock formation shadow and squinted into the sunlight.
I lifted my hand to block the rays but hissed in pain and stepped back when the sunlight brushed against my skin. Without my helmet, I was stuck. I couldn’t leave this tiny cutout, and he knew it. But what he didn’t know was that I was going to be late for work. I was going to get fired. My entire life was going to be over after having already risked it to try and save him and hide this mess I had created. And that was assuming he didn’t just shoot me now.
My hands clenched into balls at my side, my anger swelling as I watched him stop ten feet out into the sun and turn back to look at me.
“I just fixed your leg!” I yelled, struggling to make out his face in the bright light, though he appeared to have no trouble seeing me now. “I just saved your life!”
“Yeah, and I’ll bet you’ve taken thousands of human lives without thinking too,” he spat, and the disgust in his voice made my next words die on the tip of my tongue. “You’ve never even thought about it, have you? I can tell by the utterly bewildered and indignant expression on your ignorant face. You didn’t even consider me a threat this entire time! You don’t know a damn thing about humans, who you are, or where you come from – and you and your people aren’t as smart as you think you are.”
I stilled, watching as he easily removed the magazine from my firearm and racked the slide to clear the chamber without dropping my gaze. It shattered any faint hope I had that he might not know how to use it. Then he threw my pistol thirty feet to the west, emptied the rounds from the magazine, and pocketed each one before throwing the empty casing twenty feet to the east.
“I’ll spare you today – but only because it will cause me more trouble if you go missing in these woods,” he said, and my mouth went dry as he held up my small gear bag. “I’m taking this. I’m sure you can get another one without too much trouble. It’s standard equipment, right? And I know you’re not going to report this or say anything about what happened, because if you do, your life is as good as over. I’m sure you’ll get creative and find a way to account for the missing rounds.”
He slung my bag over his shoulder, looking completely calm and confident. Entirely the opposite of how I felt. I watched the way the sunlight and soft shadows from the trees above shifted across his tanned skin and strong frame. He watched me for another long moment, his eyes scanning over my face one last time, soaking in every detail before he pulled a second knife from his pocket and turned away.
“At least this way I know I’ve got a few hours head start before you can creep from your cave,” he called, not bothering to glance back at me or spare me another second of his time. “If you follow after me – I’ll kill you.”
He didn’t stop.
And I didn’t say anything.
I watched him leave, standing there, motionless, helpless to the rays of the sun as he hobbled across the ground toward the north.
eight
Hunting
Friday, July 17
8:25 pm
I stared at the knife resting on the counter, feeling the seconds tick by as the murmur of other customers echoed behind me. It was the first time I had ever set foot in a hunting supply shop, so I knew I should be paying attention to the gear clerk because I had no idea what I was doing, but seeing the weapon had caused my mind to slow, stall, then jump back into the past…
The odd, detached numbness that had encased my body after Warren had ripped the world out from under my feet and left me abandoned in the shadow of the rock formation yesterday hadn’t taken long to fade away. Once he’d disappeared from sight, I had backed up further into the cutout and collapsed on the ground in disbelief.
Even now, I could hardly believe it was real.
I had forsaken my duty as an officer of the law to help him and had been repaid with nothing but cruel words. I had sat there in the cool dirt, squinting into the streams of sunlight, watching them slide over my helmet as a soft buzzing noise rang in my ears.
Not only could humans speak, but they could also defend themselves, and Warren was the farthest thing from weak or primitive. In a matter of seconds, he had disarmed me, dismantled my firearm, and left me in the woods. I would have died if not for the shade of the rocks, and I knew in my heart, despite him saying I didn’t have one, that he wouldn’t have cared.
I had sat there in silence for what felt like forever, struggling to process the torrent of emotions that rushed through my veins. In reality, it was less than an hour, then I stood from the ground, pulled on my gloves, and unstrapped my vest. I used it as a sunshield to cover my face as I darted out across the forest floor to grab my helmet.
It hadn’t been ideal. I could hardly see anything. I had to feel around with my hands, stumbling blindly and pinching my eyes as they burned in pain from the bright light until I finally felt the familiar shape of my helmet brush my glove. Then I staggered back to the shadow and safety of the cutout. It took a few minutes for my eyes to stop watering, at which point, I pulled my helmet on and then stared out into the forest once more.
A part of me had wanted to chase after him, find him, and demand answers. But it was already nearly 3 pm, and I needed to get back to Carneth. Besides, I was utterly speechless, and I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him.
So I collected the pieces of my firearm and reassembled it. Then I walked back to my car. It wasn’t until I got to my apartment, dropped my larger gear bag by the door, stripped off my clothes, and stepped into the shower that it all hit me—and it was like a wave.
A horrible, sickening storm that rocked through my gut and nearly made me throw up.
A part of me had wanted to just go straight to work and confess what had happened because I didn’t know how on earth I was going to continue. Yet a much larger part of me knew I couldn’t do that. My actions, if they were ever found out, would impact more than just me. They would impact my family. They would reflect poorly on Captain Mallick—on Captain Vogle and Hakim. Possibly even Hawthorne and Lexie because they had spent so much time working with me over the years. I couldn’t just go admit what I had done. It wasn’t that easy. The gravity of my decision hadn’t sunk in when I’d been hopping between pharmacies collecting supplies. Nor had it fully sunk in when I’d mended Warren’s leg and covered up my actions. I had, somewhat selfishly, only considered myself in the equation.
But reality had hit fully as I’d stood in the shower.
This was bigger than just me, and I could not undo it.
I was alone in this, but my actions impacted many.
I knew the only thing I could do was press forward and hope that when the rain hit this weekend, it took the last of the evidence with it. Even though Warren had given me no reason to trust him, I couldn’t see that he would identify me if he was ever caught. It wouldn’t gain him anything. In fact, I couldn’t imagine him saying much of anything in an interrogation. He would probably remain quiet to protect himself and whatever else was going on.
And that was assuming he let an officer take him alive.
He had very nearly cut his own leg off to get away from me the first time. He’d fought back against me even when I’d shown him no harm. I really couldn’t picture him being brought in for questioning without putting up a fight that would likely result in him winding up dead.
Maybe I was wrong. It wouldn’t surprise me anymore… I had been wrong about so many things, apparently. But I knew I didn’t have a lot of alternative options, and unless I wanted to ruin the lives of those around me, which I vehemently did not, I had to get myself together, and I had to continue. I had to fight my way through this. I wanted to fight my way through this, because no matter how many mistakes I had made in the last twenty-four hours, I wanted to be here. And I still firmly believed that I could make a difference in this world while working in the CPD.
So I had forced myself to straighten beneath the flow of water. I washed the unease from my bones and rinsed my hair. Then, I followed my usual night routine, brushing my teeth and braiding my long hair for work before I pulled on fresh clothes. I rummaged around my closet, looking for the old small gear bag that I had retired two years ago. I found it, wiped the thin layer of dust from the faded canvas, hoping Hakim wouldn’t notice or question the change, and then packed it as I would have done any other night.
I ate an entire packet of gelatin cubes, ignoring the strange curl of my stomach as they slid down my throat. I texted Hawthorne and spent a few minutes reviewing the new file Hakim had given me before downing two coffees and heading back into work. By the time I got to the precinct, my hands had finally stopped shaking. I had a plan—I didn’t like it—but I knew what I needed to do.
I smiled at Captain Vogle, who had come in early for another meeting, as I stepped off the elevator on the eleventh floor. When he asked me if I was excited about the hunting trip, I lied and told him I was, then made my way to the boardroom to meet Hakim.
My reluctant partner greeted me with the same indifferent nod he gave me every morning, though his eyes lingered momentarily on my hands—probably checking to see if they were still shaking. I must have passed his test, because he didn’t say anything, and I settled into my chair and got to work.
I checked on the status of our requisitions, then reviewed the sensor data from the night before. Sure enough, Hakim’s camera had captured footage of someone walking by the day prior to our visit. The face of the individual wasn’t visible, but I knew it was Warren. Hakim wouldn’t know. Hakim wouldn’t even realize that it was a human. The man on the screen looked too large and moved too carefully, but his broad shoulders and the confident way he carried himself was unmistakable, even if the hood on his jacket was hiding his hair.
I pulled still frames from the video, per Hakim’s request, and added them to our system so we could keep an eye out for any Reborn activists who matched the physical description. Then Hakim had Corban enter the partial prints he had collected into the database and initiated a comparison check to see if we could find any leads.
We wouldn’t.
Warren’s fingerprints wouldn’t be in the Carneth system or any other system for that matter. The print was useless. I knew this, and yet I said nothing and continued to work through the night. When Hakim called it quits at 10 am and reminded me not to be late for the hunting trip, I assured him I would be there. Then, instead of going home, I made my way down to the gun range for “practice”.
At the range, I filled in the proper documentation and made my way over to the farthest target. There was hardly anyone else there. It was too late. Most officers practiced before work or immediately after, not at 10:30 am after working fourteen and a half hours. Stevens, who had been manning the cage, didn’t seem to mind my late visit, and he eagerly handed me new rounds. He asked if I was excited to go hunting. I guess word had gotten around that Vogle had invited me, which only confirmed my theory that it was quite the compliment, so I lied and said that I was. He told me he was jealous he couldn’t go.
Then I stood at the end of the range, pretending to fire my weapon until the appropriate amount of time and ammunition had passed.
It was the only solution I could come up with to account for the missing ammunition without blatantly stealing more. I was just lucky I hadn’t taken my Reborn-grade magazine with me, or I would have had to find a way to replace those too, which would have been much more difficult.
I made it home just after 12 pm, barely managing to strip off my boots and force down more gelatin cubes before I collapsed on my bed and passed out. I slept for five and a half hours solid. I would have slept for more, which was concerning, but my alarm woke me, and I forced myself from bed because I knew I needed to get ready for the hunting trip.
Now, standing in the registration building that doubled as a gear store with Hawthorne at my side, I could feel my carefully cultivated calm starting to crack.
The tall man in front of me pulled out a second knife, placing it on the counter as he launched into a dissertation about the benefits of this more expensive but better and newer model. My eyes shifted between the two weapons, and my stomach curled. They both looked unnecessary—and unreasonably dangerous. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to use them; we trained with knives at the Academy. I just hadn’t taken to them like most of my peers, and I couldn’t fathom why anyone in their right mind would want to go hunting and use this to catch their prey.
I swallowed.
The words tasted awful in my mouth even though I hadn’t spoken them aloud because all I could hear was Warren’s voice in my head over and over and over again.
Mid-day snack.
I stiffened.
Tell that to the ones that hunt us in the woods.
My nails dug into my palms as my hands balled into fists.
Yeah, and I’ll bet you’ve taken thousands of human lives without thinking too.
I had never killed anyone. I had never even hurt anyone. Not when I was a kid, not when I was in school, and not even during the Academy when we trained in defensive hand-to-hand combat. Sure, I had landed a few friendly blows during sparring, but I had never caused injury because I never wanted to hurt anyone.
Ever.
I had only wanted to help.
That’s why I joined the CPD. That’s why I upheld the law. I thought that’s what I was doing, but his voice and hateful eyes wouldn’t stop haunting my mind.
...taken thousands of human lives without thinking…
My stomach lurched. My jaw clenched tight. I struggled to inhale as a third knife was placed on the counter—this one with a serrated edge—and I thought I might get sick.
“I think I’m good with just the rifle.” Hawthorne’s voice rang out, snapping me out of my downward spiral. I glanced up at him, seeing him smile at the man behind the counter before he glanced down at me. “How about you, Gorski?”
“I’m good,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly as I turned back to the man and reached into my pocket for my wallet. “How much for the rifle and ammunition?”
We paid for our equipment rental, waiting patiently as the man photocopied our firearms licences and IDs and then explained the safety equipment. There was a reflective armband and a push-activated light beacon with GPS tracker that we could use if we got lost or injured. Both were to be worn at all times, and tags were given to mark the location of anything caught. We signed for the equipment, agreeing to pay for anything damaged before reviewing the waivers and signing them too. Then we made our way past the other hunters waiting to rent equipment and back outside into the low glow of the setting sun.
“You know,” Hawthorne said, stifling a yawn behind his hand as we moved toward the small crowd of Reborn gathering near the gate a hundred feet away. “When you ask someone on a first date, you don’t usually make them get up before nightfall and drive an hour to the middle of nowhere.”
“This isn’t a date,” I said as I slung the rifle over my shoulder.
He smirked. “How is this not a date? It’s two beautiful people spending time together and partaking in an activity.”
“You’re only here because I had a spare tag.” I rolled my eyes at him, then dropped my voice lower. “Vogle invited me. I had to come, you know that.”
“You texted me out of the blue and all but begged me to come here with you. Me,” Hawthorne said, his voice taking on a deep and provocative tone. “You could have asked Tilson – but you didn’t. You asked me, and I think you would have asked me even if Lexie was back from vacation.”
“Do you get begged for dates often?” I asked as I glanced around the parking lot. There were a lot of people here—several that I recognized from the precinct. “Got a waiting list?”
