Page 32 of Sick Bargain

“And she’s not the only one.” Director projects his screen to the white wall behind him. Twelve other Moros residents fill the screen, each of them acting a little off compared to their normal. “We haven’t had the chance to scan them all yet, but at least four of them have been found with the same chip as Ghost’s mom. And we still don’t know how to remove the chips without killing the patient.”

Three other photos hit the white wall. All three of them have died within minutes of their tiny microchip being removed. Ghost got to choose whether or not we tried to remove the chip from his mom, and for now, he decided not to. I don’t know if he’s afraid of losing her or if he’s afraid of how it will affect his siblings, but it’s his call.

“So, let’s kill the conductor,” Ransom says. “Kill Axel Graves and we kill the control he has on them.”

Director nods, but shakes his head, too. “We can’t find him.”

“I’ll fucking find him,” Kyd declares, standing on a chair. “Look how fucking hard I am for this guy!” He pumps his crotch, humping the air. “God, I have a full-on raging boner for this mad scientist. He’s mine. Dibs! Double dibs! All the dibs.”

“Seven, I want you to lead a team. Put something together and get back to me, but I want his hideout found first and foremost. Kyd can second you.”

“Yes!” Kyd fist-pumps the air. “Facts, you’re with us!”

“Glitch,” Seven claims him for his team. “Need your hacking.” Glitch nods to accept that.

“Ghost, you continue to monitor your mom and infiltrate The Misfits. Something is up with them. Ransom, you and Monster are on the rest of the chipped, and Krypt and Riot, I want you two tracking every tourist who comes to town. I don’t care if they’re a reporter or a fucking sorority girl, I want to make sure they aren’t being sent in by Axel. Menace,” Director looks at him, a subtle grin on his face. “You know what to do.”

Menace rubs his dick again. “Yes, sir.”

“You need help?” Director asks him.

Menace has always preferred to work alone, but he looks at Glitch. “I’ll need you once I get the chips out.”

“I can do both,” Glitch agrees. “Facts can help, too.” Facts jitters out a nod.

Menace loves nothing more than causing pain and messing around with bodies, so he’ll be the one extracting all the chips from the residents Ransom and Monster bring to him. Menace has an uncanny ability to open people wide and keep them coherent and alive for as long as possible. I once watched him root around in someone’s brain while carrying on a conversation about fashion, of all things. He’s the farthest thing from a brain surgeon, but he somehow pulls off such dexterous tasks.

When Director dismisses us, he pulls me aside. “Remi acting weird?” he asks.

“No. Why?”

His eyes meet mine. “She cut him. He went to a doctor for stitches. A doctor whose name someone has redacted from the file. I want to make sure there’s nothing inside him. It was his arm that was injured, but we don’t know if anything else was done to him while he was under that doctor’s care. Keep an eye on his behaviour, yeah?” He whispers so Ghost doesn’t hear,but my mind is already clouding. I’ll cut Remiel’s whole arm off before I let him become anyone else’s puppet. If it’s in his head, I’ll brainwash him harder than Axel Graves ever can.

“Want me to bring him for a scan?”

“Yeah, but keep him with you first. Keep it from Ghost for now. He’s already going mad trying to protect his brother, and we don’t need him falling prey to their curse.” Director sighs, wanting to touch me but knowing better than to try. “Our cover has to stay in place, Krypt. Moros is relying on us.”

And so is Remiel. It’s time we start knocking names off his list.

13

INFECT ME

REMIEL

Cain won’t tellme what happened to him on Initiation Night, but by the marks all over his body and the blush that rises to his cheeks, he had an alright time. He doesn’t know who the person behind the blue mask is, and according to him, that made the night even better. He doesn’t want to know. He’s not even mad at me for putting him in that situation. He thinks me losing my house is punishment enough.

I lock the door of The Ambient Raven behind him, done for the day. But my cello stares at me from where it’s displayed. It’s been so long since I played it, and Soren’s sorrowful song is still tainting my mind from this morning.

I sit down, bringing it between my legs, holding the bow, letting my body remember what it feels like to play. Pain and suffering, that’s how it feels to hold my beloved instrument again. Agony because nothing will ever be the same since my dad and brothers passed away. Regret because being good at music did nothing beneficial for my life, for them, for my mother, who is fading away from the woman she was.

It hurts to hold the bow, but it hurts even more to drag it across the strings. The shop fills with a wretched sound. Something ripped straight from my heart to darken my space.My eyes close and the tips of my fingers hit the strings, sliding into position on the fingerboard. When I play the first deep note, a tear falls down my cheek, and when I play the second, I let it all out.

The loss of my family members. The lies from Soren. The assaults and the meaning of belonging to Krypt. The ashes of my house and the husk of my car. The girl in the golden dress whose lungs rattled and calves twitched while I failed her. The Krampus who died on Initiation Night.

But mostly, I play for myself. For the days behind me and the clock ticking down the rest of my time on Earth. I play for the life I’ve lived and the one I still have yet to endure. I cry, mourning my prime and accepting the fate bestowed upon me. All of it and more leaks from my eyes and dances from my fingertips, letting loose into the strings of my cello to haunt the only place I have left that feels like home.

My eyes remain closed, and my fingers hurt from lack of playing, but when I transition into a new song, something dark and anguished, I cry harder when the piano joins me. I give myself a whole minute to pretend it’s my dad, and then I look to my left, finding Krypt behind his purple mask, fingers moving slowly over the keys to add harmony to my sadness. Like my dad used to do. I play with him for long moments, releasing the rest of my sadness. And then I turn it into something louder. Faster. Deeper.

---