Better Off Dead

Chapter Four: You Probably Don't Remember Me

"Who are we going to see?" I hadn't asked questions during the drive, but now that we were parked outside a place of residence, I was a little concerned. Being around other people isn't ideal for me.

"We'll see if you recognize her."

The whole thing was unnecessarily cryptic. Also why did all four of us have to go? What could you possibly need the whole menagerie for? I was a little creeped out, which isn't unreasonable, but then I reminded myself that nothing even mattered and that comforted me. What were we even doing there? Who knows, who cares, death is coming.

It was a pretty posh hilltop house, with a few large pieces of art next to the walkway. I was mesmerized by a particular piece that was really just a thin cylinder of concrete sticking out of the ground with a giant rock at the top of it. The rock looked like it could fall down on someone's head at any time. You assume a sculpture like that is really an illusion and is safely bolted down, but it certainly gave an air of sophisticated danger to the place.

We were greeted by a woman who, though middle-aged, exuded the presence of someone much more youthful. She seemed cool, for some random person I knew nothing about.

"Bobbi Barker, which you already know, and I already know who you are, so come on inside." She led us past what I'm pretty sure was an armory and into a charming sitting room adorned with a baker's dozen animal heads. No one mentioned all the axes and bows visible from the open doorway, so I didn't say anything either. I took a seat and pretended that I understood literally anything that was happening.

She turned to me. "Go ahead and take the hood off."

That sounded like a terrible idea, but I politely revealed my negatively remarkable visage.

Bobbi nodded. "I can see it. You look like your dad. Well, half of you does, of course. The other half reminds me of when I skin these guys." She indicated the heads on the wall, which was an unnecessary amount of information that none of us enjoyed.

"That muscle tissue he fused on really held up. That's good to see." My confused look led her to skip over a response and just continue the conversation by herself. "You probably don't remember me. That makes sense. I was your dad's lab assistant. Before the car accident. So I saw you, but I'm betting you miraculously suppressed the memories of that time period."

I nodded. That sounded about right. "You knew him. That's... cool." I didn't want to hear anything to do with that part of my past, so I didn't press for further information about it.

Taylor jumped in. "You used the serum on yourself a couple weeks ago, right? On your hand? How did you know it would work?"

"I didn't." Bobbi was cheerfully casual about it. I found it somehow inspiring.

"You... didn't know what would happen?"

"Of course not. The serum had been hidden away for fifteen years. You never know what could happen to something after fifteen years. But Dr. Brahms said it would be good for a century, and I had faith in him as a scientist. Maybe not as a driver. Or a parent. But he was a great scientist."

I'd like to say that I objected to her calling him a bad parent, but I didn't. Overall he was great, maybe a little preoccupied with work but otherwise everything you could ask for in a dad. Except for the whole experimenting on your own child thing. Whatever the reason, if you Chimera your child with some untested serum, you are automatically disqualified from the best dad of the year contest.

Taylor had an unapologetically expressive face, so we could all see how incredulous she found the statement to be.

Bobbi grinned. "I like to live dangerously." We all believed her.

"How did all of this start?" Devon broke in with perfect serenity, as though we were discussing the weather, or casually asking for her nonlethal cookie recipe.

"Dr.Brahms, your dad, asked me to hide the serum if anything happened to him. Or maybe to destroy it. I don't remember. In any case, I stashed it. And now I'm working on some amazing scientific projects," She turned to Taylor, "You know how it is. I will not be stopped. Then fellow scientist Dr. Moore leaves out some corrosive materials, one thing leads to another, and I am missing a hand. Which absolutely will not do. So I thought about Petra here. If it worked for you, it might work for me. Why not try it?"

We all pretended to understand.

"So I dig it all back up, hunt up a deer, and make a new hand. Worked perfectly. Then Dr. Moore mysteriously met with a similar accident. Which I had nothing to do with. It's not like I needed another hand or anything. Since it worked for me, one scientist to another, I offered him the same. Worked just as well. Everything worked out."

"And then something went wrong?"

"I don't know about wrong. He said something had happened and he needed the serum right away. I said sure. He took the rest of the serum and vanished."

"And then what happened to him?"

"He disappeared. Along with the serum. That was a week or two ago. Haven't heard a thing since."

I had a question. I mean, I had a ton, but there was one I wanted to ask. "So... if you're the one who knows how to use the serum, shouldn't you be the scientist who...?" I wasn't sure what would be a good way to say 'doing this instead of Taylor', but it got the point across. Taylor didn't appreciate it, but I didn't really care.

"I have important work I'm in the middle of. I moved on to the company's new lab on the island, and we're working on great things." It was a relatively polite way to say 'it isn't worth my time' which Taylor appreciated even less.

"And now I have this amazing new hand." She gave us a demonstration,where she stretched out the chunk of muscle replacing her hand. She waved it around like a Kraken waving off a friendly boat before stealth attacking it. I could do that too, but I wasn't as happy about it as she was. She was having a great time.

Having meat chunks replacing parts of your body is like many other things. It's a lot more fun if you actually wanted it in the first place.

My companions stared. I'm sure it's fascinating if you don't see it every day.

We said our goodbyes and politely didn't mention the bloodstain on her rug. One should not insult the tidiness of one's host, you know? And who knew? Maybe she liked the bloodstain. Maybe it was art.

I thought Bobbi was great. She freaked everyone out a little bit, especially Liam, who didn't even speak the whole time we were in there. I didn't know that guy could be afraid. Sure, she was mildly implicated in a case of dismemberment, and evidently had an interest in killing things, and there was blood and weapons lying around, but who am I to judge? Plus, dismemberment seriously isn't a problem for me, so I had no reason to worry. She was fun.

As we were walking out the door, she tapped me on the shoulder. "My secret phone number. TELL NO ONE."