A Heaven for Toasters

CHAPTER 20: Xhristinas

Oh, God, please let it be a dog.

I approached as he swung open the cage's door, every sense on alert.

Out of the shadows, a human form emerged.

Another Xhristina clone.

The woman stared at me with pleading eyes. "Help me," she cried out. Then louder. "Help me!"

I pushed Ed back and helped her out of the cage. Metal chains bound her hands and feet, locked with padlocks thick. "Open them," I ordered.

"Doctor Morgan has forbidden us from listening to her," Ed protested.

"Then don't. Listen to me. I'm with the police, remember?"

His entire body seemed to straighten up. For a second, I actually thought he would salute me. "Of course."

He keyed a sequence of numbers into each padlock and the chains slipped off the woman's hands. "Thank you," she whispered. She rubbed her wrists and ankles.

I took her by the arms and helped her up. "Can you walk?"

She nodded and rose to her feet. I hurried to steady her as she stumbled. Leaning on me, she took a few unsteady steps.

"I'm Xhristina," she said. "Thank you for freeing me."

"You're a clone," I guessed.

"Not a clone," she snapped at me. "I am Xhristina. The artist."

My brow furrowed. "The one I saw at the exhibition?"

"I've been locked up here for weeks. How could I have been at any exhibition?"

Realization dawned on me. "A clone of yours took over." I led her to the elevator.

"Doctor Morgan said my work with clones inspired him and invited me to Hydra," she said as she shuffled behind me, her limbs obviously numb. "When I got here, he told me he wanted to help me create conscious clones for my art. Only then, he said, would my art truly take flight. He even claimed it was legal. I still refused. I may push the limits at times but I'm not a sociopath."

"So he cloned you," I guessed. "Not with a so-called improved clone, either. I've met your clone and she's as conscious as they come. Then, he imprisoned you."

"And he could do the same to you," she said, her voice almost screeching with fear. "We must hurry."

"Doctor Morgan has left," Ed said politely. "His guest is also missing. We have no idea where they went."

"His guest?" Xhristina asked. "You mean my crazy clone? Why would they leave? What happened?"

"Too much," I said, reaching the elevator. I motioned for Ed to open the doors. While he pressed his palm against a glass panel, I continued. "It all started with the exhibition. My guess is, when your clone heard my partner's suspicions about the woman on the cross, she panicked. With just weeks before they tested their bioweapon, Doctor Morgan couldn't afford any distractions. So, he arranged an accident. What he—"

Xhristina interrupted me. "Bioweapon? What the hell are you talking about?"

The doors slid open. I led her into the elevator. I had much to tell her.

I took one last look at the studio, hoping it was the last time I ever encountered such madness. The woman inside the vase was staring vacantly in our direction.

With a shudder, I took a step toward the elevator. Wait—wasn't she staring at the ceiling before?

My breath caught. She's conscious! I swirled around, drawing my gun.

With stunning agility, the woman jumped out of her ceramic prison. She lunged at me. I pressed the trigger. With a somersault, she avoided the bullet and landed right in front of me. She kicked the gun out of my hand. Swirling like a mad dervish, her other leg caught me in the chest.

My lungs exploded in pain. I flew backward and crashed to the floor, all muscles in my body shuddering and aching.

With a leap, the clone stood over me.

For some reason, all I could think about was how she wasn't nude after all. She was wearing a skin-colored, tight bodysuit. Her flawless body reminded me of a lethal cobra.

I touched my temple. "Armor."

My metasuit pulled and tugged around me as the material strengthened. It would do nothing against a bullet, but it might help cushion her next attack.

She raised one foot to crush my head. I rolled away, her foot missing me by an inch. She kicked me in the back, smashing me against the wall. Every breath hurt. Had it not been for the metasuit, she would have broken at least a couple of ribs.

She unleashed a fury of kicks. I put my hands around my head to protect it as I rolled left and right, trying to avoid her manic feet. One of her kicks caught me in the head. I saw stars. Literally, as white spots filled my vision.

In my stunned state, I was unable to stop her from climbing on top of me. She wrung her hands around my neck. I twisted and turned. She refused to let go of her vise-like grip. I punched and scratched and kicked and pushed. All in vain. She hung on to me in a relentless hold. Her fingers squeezed my life out of my body.

My punches became weaker and weaker. All I could see now was her face, a mask of wrath. My eyes fluttered shut.

From afar, I heard thunder. Is a storm coming? Then, a decision: I'm not going to faint again!