had to wait for you to enter the trap.”
I look at the time on the screen. It’s just after midnight.
“Jerry?”
“He’s fine,” Matt says. “Just taking a little nap in the hallway.
I could have left him outside, but I didn’t.”
I look at the gun, in disbelief. “Why?”
“She’s going to help me.”
I lift my shirt. “Like she helped me?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, looking away for a moment from the scars. “Dr. Bartholomew, Claudia, made sure she knew everything about you. So when I went for my appointment at the VA, she knew about the connection between me, you, and Jimmy.
I know I told you she couldn’t help me, but I lied. She made me an offer.”
“You’ve been working for her ever since then?”
“I can’t live like this,” he says, his voice raised. Matt takes off the baseball cap; sweat beads on his forehead. “You don’t know what it’s like. She said I’ll even be able to have kids someday.”
“Well, good for you,” I say. And I know she can make him a kid or two in a lab. The guy doesn’t have balls, but he can have kids, just like fucking Edward Bartholomew was sterile and he . . . I stare at Matt, my eyes cold enough to freeze him, I think. “I’m sure your kids will be really proud of their dad. Why don’t you take a picture of me? Then you can show them who you sacrificed so that they could exist.” I laugh, my 3 3 3
Copyright © 2015 by Debra Dockter.
FOR REVIEWING PURPOSES ONLY--NOT FOR SALE
incisions starting to ache like they know Claudia’s waiting to reopen them. “Even if she can help you, she won’t. The only person she cares about is herself.”
“She is going to help me.” The hand holding the gun is shaking, which seems odd for a marine. But then, his hand wasn’t meant for guns; it was meant for computers. “She’s going to help a lot of other people, other guys like me missing arms and legs and other parts. I’m sorry, Kyle, but you’re a necessary casualty—unless, that is, you can tell me what Rubenstein did with her brother’s research.”
I’m forming a lie in my head. The research is somewhere in the hospital where Rubenstein works, or in his office locked in a safe behind a poster of Kirk Hinrich doing a jump shot.
It’s—
The door to the lab starts to open. “Are you in here, Ky—”
The bullet hits the center of her chest. She looks down at it for a second, confused, shocked. Then her knees give way, and she’s on the floor. I run over to her.
“Rosemary! Rosemary!” She’s dead. She and her husband were trying to have a baby. She likes cooking shows and her favorite author is Nicholas Sparks and blood is spreading across her pale pink scrubs. I wish I were a doctor. I wish these hearts were all ripe for the picking and I could grab one, take out the heart that’s been torn by Matt’s bullet, and plug in the new one.
I look up at Matt. His mouth is hanging open.
“Another casualty?” I ask, and I want to rip off his prosthetic 3 3 4
Copyright © 2015 by Debra Dockter.
FOR REVIEWING PURPOSES ONLY--NOT FOR SALE
leg and beat him to death with it, because taking his gun and shooting him would be too goddamned unfulfilling.
“Let’s go,” he says, holding the gun steadier now, even though his face is tinged with green. “Let’s go!” he yells.
“Okay.” I stand, and all thoughts of lying to him are gone. I won’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.
3 3 5
Copyright © 2015 by Debra Dockter.
FOR REVIEWING PURPOSES ONLY--NOT FOR SALE
don’t have a coat on. The cold air hits me as soon as we step out of the building. I think of Jerry and his warm coat, and I wish I’d taken it off him. He was lying in the hall beside the door, just like Matt said. He didn’t look hurt, just asleep.
My breath clouds in the air and disappears quickly in the cold wind. I start shivering like crazy, and I’m afraid the incisions are going to start tearing open again.
“Here,” Matt says, halting me. With the gun still in hand, he slips one arm, then the other, out of his jacket and hands it to me. I put it on and follow him past the Volkswagen Beetle that’s parked at the front of the lot, close to the building; I bet it’s Rosemary’s. I start shivering again,