My feet carried me out of the room and down the halls, passed smeared droplets of blood on the once spotless tiles, and to Mom who remained unconscious on the ground. The route to the exit called me, but I couldn't continue on without her. Even when I tried to convince myself to move on alone, a tug at my heart kept me tethered me to her.
I tucked my weapon in my breast pocket alongside my diary and dropped to the floor beside her. "Mom?" I shook her shoulder. "Get up. Wake up. We gotta go."
She stirred, steadily regaining consciousness. "What?" When her eyes met mine, she screamed.
"Quiet." I instinctively placed my forefinger to my lips, taking a quick glimpse over my shoulder.
"Jo?" Her voice quivered. "What happened to you? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?"
I looked down over my gown to the red platters and smears, I only imagined my face looking much worse. "I'm ok, but we have to go. Now."
She shook her head. "There's nowhere to go, Jo."
"The exit."
"It's locked and authorities are probably waiting at the door to lock us up." She looked down at the sporadic drips of blood that contrasted the overabundant white. "You've done it, huh? You killed Dr. Schwartz."
"No." My head shook so hard my temples ached. "There are others. Others just like him."
"What do you mean?" She squinted her eyes disbelievingly.
I glanced over my shoulder toward the direction of the surveillance room. "There are copies of him. Dozens. He's not the only one."
Mom's eyes went wide. "Oh, my god. That explains a lot."
"Let's go." I moved closer to slip my arms under hers to help her get off the floor.
"Put me down, Jo." She gently pushed me away. "We have to stay."
"Why?" I stood, watching her, judging her inaction as much as her actions. "For what? Because you signed a contract that gave him permission to experiment on me as a way to pay him back for reviving me?"
"You don't get it, do you?" She huffed and sniffed away the oncoming sobs that trembled her body. "You were dead, Jo. I didn't want to lose you."
I sneered, nearly speaking through clenched teeth. "Or maybe you didn't want to go down for murder. Maybe that was your reason for reviving me."
She gasped. "That's not true."
I dismissed her shock and stared toward the direction of the exit. "I want to go home."
"That urge to go home was implanted in your mind." She stared guiltily. "In order to keep you motivated to remember your true memories, the doctor implanted that urge. In theory, you would try harder to make progress with your treatment if going home was your goal. In truth, there's nothing to go home to."
"Why are you telling me this? Why now?"
"Because it's time for you to know the truth. And it's time for you to trust me." Her voice dropped down to a whisper. "The more determined you are to make this work, the better. We allowed you to escape. We allowed you to go in the rooms and see the others and access the notes. We did it all to help you remember your mission. Once you remember, then the treatment becomes a success."
"You knew about the people strapped to the walls, displayed like pretty decorations?" I glared.
"They're all part of the Rebirthing program, in various stages. But I had no idea Dr. Schwartz was a part of it too."
Were those replicas part of his fail-safes?
"So, I'm supposed to trust everything you're saying?"
"Yes. Because I'm telling you the truth." Her bottom lip quivered. "Remember when you were determined to become the best pianist in the district? It gave you purpose. Seeing the joy music brought you made living so much easier for us in that dump. I would go around the house humming all the beautiful songs you created. But when Ian came back damaged, you became determined for something else. Revenge." She nodded, encouragingly. "And that determination will heal you."
The memory of saying goodbye to Ian was the clearest of all recollections. It felt like more than a year ago. It marked the first and last time we would be together, intimately or otherwise. The warmth of his body replayed in my mind until it faded from my skin like a cold breeze. Even so, I knew one thing for sure. "When Ian left for Deep Sleep, I wrote every thought and fear about that place in my diary, including my fears that he wouldn't wake up from the treatment." The Plato quote flashed through my thoughts.
"Your diary ..." She inhaled, nodding as if building up courage. "I went through to erase any mention of Ian being in treatment, but I made sure to leave everything else untouched."
My eyes widened. "So, you did alter my diary."
"Only to bring you back to me." She squeezed the fabric at her chest in her fists. "I would do absolutely anything to bring you back and beg for your forgiveness. Anything."
The urge to go home overcame me, but I shrugged it off. A realization hit me in the center of my chest. "I'm damaged goods now." I would forever question what memories were true or implanted. "You always complained about raising me, why go through the trouble to revive me?" She could've left me at the bottom of the tub and went on with her life.
"Never." A stream of moisture dripped from her noise and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. "I may have turned to alcohol to help me get through the pain of raising a young woman on my own, but I never have and never will consider you damaged. I love you."
Suddenly, the overhead florescent lights went out and bright red light took its place, swamping the environment in a blood red hue. Wailing sirens rang out in the halls, startling us both.
"We have to go." Before my words could fully escape my lips, Dr. Schwartz appeared from around the corner. His unblemished lab coat only shone red due to the overhead lights.
"Surrender, Miss. Spencer." His deep, monotone voice was barely heard above the emergency sirens. "It's time to put an end to this."
I pulled the pick from my pocket and used all the anger, fear, and pain inside of me as fuel as I ran toward the doctor. I imagine slamming the pick far into his chest again, but he knocked me to the floor with a quick and unexpected jab to my ribs. Mom's screams matched the sirens as I struggled to stand and catch my breath at the same time.
The doctor straddled my body, quickly pinning back against the cold tiles with a firm grasp around my neck. He didn't utter a word and neither did I even though I tried. Neither a scream nor a breath managed to squeeze past my throat.
His fingers tightened around my neck and images of me and mom in the bathtub flashed before my mind. As the milliseconds ticked on, I became increasingly content with settling at the bottom of that bathtub. However, he anchored me back in reality when he stared unblinking into my eyes and announced, "Any second now."
His voice and the detached look in his eyes gave me the boost I craved to grip the pick in my hand tighter than he gripped my neck. I swung my arm and plunged the sharp metal into his temple, merely missing the ear canal. He collapsed over me, pinning me to the floor.
Before I could blink away the tears that accumulated in my vision, Mom's disheveled outline slowly came into view. She seemed exhausted from her failed attempts at preventing him from hurting me, in no time she was at my side helping me to stand. I took a few rapid breaths of relief when suddenly a sharp pain in my abdomen caused me to hunch over. "Oh no."
"Jo." Mom's eyes widened. "What's happening?"
"My stomach again." A wave of nausea hit me, and I nearly buckled from the pain. "What did he do to me?"
"He must be shutting it down." Her voice hitched in fear. "Oh, no. Our progress will be lost!"
I snapped my head to stare into her frightened eyes. "What are you saying? What's inside of me?"
She hesitated, staring at my hands that clenched my abdomen. "Those people you've seen in the rooms and Dr. Schwartz, they're not the only ones with synthetic bodies."
My jaw dropped. "No. What? I don't believe it." I doubled over in pain, dropping to my knees.
She knelt at my side. Worry in her face. "I had to, Jo. You were dead. Completely dead. You didn't think he just restarted your heart to revive you, right? That's not how rebirthing works. The only way to give you a new life was to transfer your awareness into a synthetic body. It cost so much and took so long, but if this program works, people will never die. We could just have them transferred to new bod—"
"No!" I screamed. Trying to process the thought of occupying a fully artificial body, of living in a body that wasn't completely my own but partly owned by someone else was unbearable. The violation and lack of control... "I'd rather die. Why didn't you just let me die?"
"I love you," her sobs caused her words to catch in her throat, "so much. I struggled to have you and raise you, but I would never give up on you. Ever."
The pain in my gut was excruciating, and I couldn't imagine what the doctor had done to cause so much agony. I screamed to relieve the pain while I yanked the ice pick from where I had planted it in Dr. Schwartz.
"Jo, Please." Mom stood and back away slowly with her hands up in front of her, showing she was no threat. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."
"I don't," I grunted as a wave of pain tore through me, "believe you."
"Everything I've confessed to you is true. Please."
My insides twisted and coiled as I raised the ice pick. Not a second thought entered my mind as I dove the sharp metal deep into the flesh of my belly, puncturing the spot where the pain was, and the fluttering used to be. The pain increased, but I wasn't satisfied until I could see what was happening inside of me with my very own eyes.
I yelled out in agony as the metal went in deeper, stopping only when it hit a hard object. Upon yanking the pick from my belly, a slim red wire with frayed strands of metal slid from the hole. "Oh, my god."
"Oh, no." Mom's hands went to her mouth.
I jerked the flexible cord, pulling out a long strand until it caught on something and dangled from my flesh. That wasn't enough. I had to see more. I ignore the surge of red liquid dribbling from the wound and mom's cries to plunge my fingers inside, exposing the turning and twisting mechanical parts alongside globs of gelatinous material.
My mouth hung open, but the scream was silent.
With surging fear, I looked up at Mom as a plea for help. She immediately rushed to my side, pressing her hand over the open wound to keep the spewing contents inside. "Don't worry. I'll find Dr. Schwartz and he'll fix you. Okay, I don't care if I have to sign over my life. He'll fix you and it'll be fine. Just fine."
"No." I shook my head, grimacing in pain and shock. "Just let me be. Let me die, already."
Her lips quivered as I slumped to the floor amongst the puddle of my own blood. "What about Ian, huh? You're gonna allow the government to win by not fighting for justice?"
I shook my head, feeling the life slowly drain out of me. "No, they will win if we succeed."
I welcomed the warm sensation of relief to swamp me and closed my eyes.
~~~
The sweet, earthy scent of almonds urged me to open my eyes. I glanced around the stark white room for the source of the smell, but my eyes landed on Mom instead. She was draped over the arm of the chair before me, her knees tucked under her as she slept.
The sweet smell reminded me of Ian's body scent and the first and last time we were intimate. I missed him. In the corner of the room on the table was a red cake with white frosting. Although this cake had several unused candles on the top, in white lettering it read: Happy Rebirthday, Jo. A slice was already cut from it, exposing its red center.
My mouth salivated at the thought of taking a bite, but a faint image of liquid red nearly caused me to vomit, and I lost my appetite instead.
I looked down at my neat and clean hospital gown, realizing I was secured to a hospital bed with thick durable straps around my chest and hips, keeping me from lifting my arms or walking out to freedom.
I turned my head, taking in the sights of the room. With the computer systems and large surgical equipment, the familiarity of the medical facility settled in.
I squirmed trying to free myself from the uncomfortable restraints, when a robotic voice emitted from the machine's speaker. "Please stay calm. Your doctor has been notified of your restlessness and will be in to assist you shortly."
Mom opened her eyes and immediately sat up. "Oh, my Jo." She approached the side of my bed. The closer she got the more I made out the abundance of grey hairs at her temples. Grays I hadn't seen before. The warmth of her voice embraced me before she did, and the smell of liquor wafted from her clothes as she held me in a one-sided hug. "Oh, look at you. Are you feeling okay? How's your memory?"
The monitor continued to beep, and I anticipated Dr. Schwartz entering the room, ready to ask questions and physically examine me.
I was prepared. More than ready. Determined.
As for the fate of the program, a thought popped into mind.
What a shame.
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