Page 53 of Sloth
All these poor animals.
None of them resembled what they were born as, if they were born at all. For all Sloan knew, they could have been created in a Petri dish and grown in a tank, just like the human replicate clones had been. A monkey-like beast with bulging eyes and fangs reached for her through a gap in the cage. Darting to the left, she narrowly escaped its claws. With her new skill, she sensed an insatiable need to attack, to survive.
“He’s down there,” she murmured, indicating to the end of the room where bags of food, hay, and other animals supplies were stacked against the concrete wall.
As she drew closer to the crouching form of Barry, dread deepened until it filled her chest with weight. He was busy with an animal and hadn’t noticed them over the din. The animal was laying down, as though sedated.
Once sure they were alone, Sloan lowered her gun. She lifted her cap so her face was visible, and when Barry raised his head, he did a double take.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed, hand frozen on an open cage, the other mid air, paused with a syringe in his grip. “If they catch you, you’re dead.”
“I won’t let you do it.” Let him think she knew what his deadly plan was. Sometimes, bluffing was the only way to proceed.
He exhaled, slamming his cage shut. “There’s nothing I can do to stop them.”
Barry got up and straightened his white lab coat. His eyes went cold and he avoided Sloan’s gaze as he strode beyond her, back to the table at the center of the room.
“Don’t ignore this, Barry.” Sloan strode after him. “Do you really want to be responsible for the death of so many innocents?”
He shook his head. “No. Only the sinners will go.”
“You don’t believe that,” she said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t feel deadly sin within you, Barry.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. It’s that niggling feeling you’ve been having. The one that’s getting louder and louder, the closer you get to the end of your project. The one that’s telling you to do the right thing. The one you keep ignoring.”
Barry gathered a stack of papers and straightened them. His jaw clenched. He considered Sloan’s words. Perhaps she could push him, nudge him with another emotion… but she knew not which. Fear might push him in the opposite direction. Trust… maybe, but she was still untrained with that. And she might open the wrong box. She needed more training.
“What’s the plan, Barry?” Max asked, lifting his rifle back up.
Barry lifted his gaze. “It doesn’t matter if you kill me. They’ll go ahead with it. They don’t need me.”
“So why stay?”
“They have my daughter.”
None of them spoke. Only the screeching, angry sounds of beasts clambered around them.
“Your daughter,” Sloan repeated. “Where?”
“Does it matter?”
“Heck, yeah it matters. Barry, I want to help you. Let us help you.”
“She’s in town. At boarding school.”
The town was on the other side of the mountain.
“We’ll get to her before they know,” she promised. “Come with us Barry. We can get you out without them knowing. There will be enough time to save her. We can set you both up with another identity.”
Barry didn’t answer.
Max shifted next to her. “They don’t know we’re here. Tell us the plan. At the very least, we can be prepared.”
“The animals.” Barry waved at the cages, avoiding their gazes. “They will be let loose in confined public spaces.”
“Do you know which spaces?”
