The God Project - By John Saul Page 0,133

boys too, Sally. Whatever they are, they aren’t human. Randy Corliss is not our child, and never has been. And neither is Jason. I’m not sure what they are, but I know what they’re not.” Then he repeated the words once again: “They’re not human.”

And so, earlier today, Sally had gone alone to see Mark Malone, and quietly explained to him what she wanted to do. He had listened to her, and for a long time after she had finished, had sat silently, apparently thinking.

“I need some time, Sally,” he’d said at last. “I need some time to think about this.”

“How much time?” Sally had asked. “This isn’t something I’ve just made up my mind to, Mark. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. The boys are growing up, and I’m afraid of them.”

“Have you thought of sending them away to school?”

“Of course I have,” Sally replied bitterly. “I’ve thought of everything, and in the end I always come down to the same thought. They’re some kind of monsters, Mark, and they have to be destroyed. It’s not myself I’m afraid for—it’s everybody. Can’t you understand that?”

And Mark, to her relief, had nodded his head. “But I’ll still have to think about it,” he’d told her. “I’m a doctor. My training is to save lives, not end them.”

“I know,” Sally whispered unhappily. “Believe me, I wish I could have done this without even talking to you. But I need your help. I—well, I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea of how to”—she faltered, then made herself finish the sentence—“how to kill them.”

Mark had led her to the door. “Let me call you in a couple of hours, Sally, I’ll have to think about this thing, and I won’t promise you anything. In fact, I wish you hadn’t come here today.”

And so she had come home. Now she sat in front of her mirror, staring at her strange reflection, recognizing her image, but not understanding the person she had become.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing about her own life mattered anymore, not as long as The Boys were alive. Only after they were dead would she worry about herself again. And yet, what if diere was no way to kill them? What then?

And then the phone rang.

“It’s Mark, Sally. There’s something called succinylcholine chloride. If you’ll come down to my office, I’ll explain it to you.”

Late that night, Randy and Jason came downstairs to say good night to Sally and Steve. Sally accepted a kiss from each of them, and then, as they started up the stairs, called to them.

“I almost forgot Dr. Malone called me today and gave me some medicine for you. He wanted you to have it just before you went to bed.”

The boys looked at each other curiously. This was something new. Medicine? Neither of them had ever needed medicine before.

“What’s it for?” Randy asked.

“I’m not sure,” Sally replied, praying that there would be no trembling in her voice. “It’s just some kind of a shot.”

“I don’t want it,” Jason said. His face set into a stubborn expression that both Sally and Steve had come to know too well.

Steve rose from his chair. “You’re going to have it, son,” he said, keeping his voice carefully under control.

Jason glanced toward Randy, and as Steve moved toward the foot of the stairs, he could feel the boys sizing him up, weighing their combined bulk against his own strength. He started up the stairs. The two boys watched mm warily, and Steve braced himself against a possible attack. But then, as he approached the boys, Randy spoke.

“Fuck it, Jason. What the hell can it do to us?”

It can kill you, Steve thought with sudden detachment. Sally had told him about the chemical Mark Malone had given her. It was called succinylcholine chloride, and its effect would be to attack their nervous systems, paralyzing them to the point where they would be unable to breathe. In the few minutes it would take the GT-active factor to overcome the damage, they would be deprived of air and suffocated. Yes, he thought once again, it can kill you.

But the boys had already turned the whole thing into a joke, and while Sally prepared the hypodermic needles, Steve followed them into their room, where they undressed and slid into their beds. Randy grinned at Jason. “You ever had a shot?”

“Not since I was a little kid. But I’ve had blood tests.”

“So have I. That week I was at the Academy, they took tests

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