Discretion

[King]

The next time I was to open my eyes. . . it was dark. The lights in my apartment were off, or at least in my room, and the moon's dim rays barely managed to permeate through the heavy industry blinds of my window. I was lethargic and still in pain, but with a few deep breaths I managed to throw my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up.

The feeling of the cool tiles against my naked feet was relaxing, almost soothing. I could feel the sharp chill climbing up the back of my legs until it settled it my thighs; it reminded me I wasn't dead - no, I was far from it.

As I rubbed my face vigorously, a timid glow of orange and yellow beneath my door caught my attention. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and without much thought I found myself walking to my door. With the twist of the knob and a faint click, I found myself gazing into my living room. Spare for the lamp on the end table, like my room, all the lights were off. Beneath the lamps almost beacon-like glow, there was a small manila folder with a recorder on top of it. I knew it was Alex.

I didn't bother opening the folder because I already had a good idea of what was in it. Instead, I focused solely on the recorder. I was hesitant to press the small button labeled "Play", but after several moments I managed to.

"Well, if you're hearing this then I'm already gone. The folder has all the information I could dig up on the woman you mentioned; names, dates, contacts. I love you, Christian, but I can't keep living my life like this. I can't keep running with you."

The tape ended.

I was neither mad nor upset. Honestly, I understood her decision and respected it. Hell, I was envious; I could only dream of escaping this nightmare. I couldn't just walk away. No. . . Unfortunately, that wasn't an option for me.

Laying the recorder down, I scooped the folder into my hand and began scanning its content. There were a handful of pictures, the majority of which were old and probably outdated, but they would come in handy for a general assumption of what she looked like. She wouldn't be able to change everything in a matter of a few months. After that I briefly scanned the moderate lists of contacts-- relatives, close friends, lovers, things of that sort. The document said she was married, though I highly doubted that was the case now.

"Well, Meg. . ." I muttered while stuffing the documents back into the folder. "It looks like we have a date."

[.deceitful.]

I could see this wasn't going to go very far.

Right away, I got the feeling that either she was as stupid as they come, or simply wasn't aware of the situation she was in. I was assuming she was the Megan the phone was listed under. I didnt consider the fact that she could be someone else; she'd already proven that she was Megan -- otherwise she would have known what I meant when I asked her why had she ran.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?”

I sighed.

I was already tired and her sassiness; perhaps cute on a normal day, was doing nothing for my mood.

“What do you want from me?”

"In case you werent aware, you're in a bit of a pickle here. The police are looking for you, for a number of reasons. 3 people were murdered in your home and you left. Without even calling the authorities."

I went with a bet here, since there was nothing in the file about the call coming from the house, it was simple guesswork to deduce that she hadn't called.

"You could be a suspect. You could be an accomplice. And right now, you're lookin' kinda guilty."

Had she not even considered these possibilities? I wondered what she was thinking. I went on. I think I was letting the irritation bleed through into my voice.

"They also think you might need protection, whether you're guilty or not. ...you aren't afraid of the killer coming back to finish you off?"

I paused again. Dramatic? Maybe, but she needed to think about the cold hard facts staring her in the face like a smoking barrel.

"904 443 4757. That's my number. When you're ready to cooperate, call me."

I stopped wasting my time. I hung up. I looked at the rookie, rubbing my chin.

"We're gonna need more info on this broad. I think we need to find her. Go home when you like but be here bright and early tomorrow."

"Are we going to be looking for her?"

"Haven't decided yet. She may or may not be important. We'll see."

"Yes'sir."

I shoved the chair back, swirling around and stopping it with a planted boot. I got up, grabbed my coat off the rack and tossed it around my shoulders. For a moment I considered heading back to the crime scene to see if she was still there, but that was highly unlikely. After that, she was bound to leave.

Maybe I would head to my old stomping grounds -- as in, where I went to stomp slimeballs into the cement. I stepped outside. A chilly wind stung my face. The small sliver of moon hung listlessly in the sky, occasionally shielded by a frivolous cloud. It was my type of night.

[Skylar]

I heard his sigh, he either was unimpressed with my inquiries, or he was something else. Or both. Who knew really...and then his voice continued. He told me things I already knew, things that ran through my mind on a daily basis for the last few weeks.

I listened none the less and became more and more pissed off. I didn’t give two shits what he thought I looked like. I knew what I was. I wasn’t guilty of anything. I didn’t know anything, and the only thing I was running from was....well, I didn’t really know. What I did know was that everyone around me that knew John was dropping dead, and usually from a bullet to the head. I liked my head. So running suited me just fine.

904-443-4757. I heard the numbers and sang them to myself in my head as I looked around the floor and grabbed a pen. Without wasting a moment I jotted it down on my forearm, the closest thing I had to write on, and then the line went dead...which seems to be the way my phone calls had been ending up.

I stared at the phone for a moment, and dropped it on the floor. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs until my voice had nothing left. There was no point in it though, I knew this, so I turned and walked outta the den.

I found myself across the hall, reaching out for another door knob. I turned it slowly and walked in blindly. I knew the room like the back of my hand, I didn’t need light. Just a few paces ahead of me was the bed I had slept in the for the last couple years. I crawled upon it and laid down, grabbing Johns pillow and curling up with it.

His scent still graced the pillow and only for a moment was it comforting. Only until I realized that he had left me in a mess, his mess. How could he have loved me and done all this keeping me in the dark? For my safety? I sure the fuck wasn’t safe now, was I? I wiped my tears on his pillow, grabbed a few things and headed back to my motel room......this time I didn’t look back...

[King]

I won't lie and say I wasn't aggravated the next day. As I made my way through the city, all I could think of was that tape Alex had left me. I heard her voice on every radio commercial; I heard her thick southern accent on every CD, so I threw them out the window one by one. I'd get over it with time - but that wasn't right now.

The black mustang I was driving slowed down to a creeping pace as I neared the house from before. I parked several blocks away, near the head of the neighborhood, and walked the rest of the way.

It was strange, but the residents of this neighborhood never seemed to be out and about. It gave me a sense of comfort as I climbed the fence, and then the AC unit; I felt like a major creeper. I couldn't blame them. There'd been an incredibly messy murder here, in a place I'm sure they felt it could never happen. Whatever the case, I'm sure if there were a few kids running around or several couples flapping their gums about the latest gossip I wouldn't have been able to hear the tender voice reverberating from inside the house. She was talking to someone - it had to be her. Determined not to let her escape again, I made my move.

I wanted to be discrete, so the back door was the best option. And to my surprise, it was open. Silently, like a stalker, I made my way through the dimly lit house. I had already retracted my personal handgun from the back of my pants, prepping myself to cock and fire should there be any surprises. I simply followed the mess, the voices. There wasn't many options, and before long I found myself staring at the woman clearly from the kitchen. The phone dropped and she was moving again, out of my sight.

This was turning into a bullshit mess of hide-and-seek. . . until she emerged from the room and began heading back my way. Her motel room would have been her destination, unknown to me, but when she turned the corner into the kitchen she would find the barrel of my nine-millimeter pistol staring blankly back at her. Behind it, my nervous features tried hard to remain stoic. "What do they want with you?"

[Skylar]

I let my guard down. I know better then this. Better then setting myself up for a deep throat session with the business end of a .9mm. Yet, here I stand, in that particular predicament. Mother fucker...

"What do they want with you?"

His voice wasn’t creepy, something I took note upon these days. It was however nervous, which to me - was a good thing. I thought about trying to disarm him, I am a tough girl, though petite. However, I’m sure I mentioned before how much I liked my head, so instead I simply froze.

His simple sentence ran through my mind. It actuality it wasn’t so simple. Who where they? Whoever I was speaking to on the phone? Or the “they” that keeps offing the people around me? Maybe this guy can be the first notch in my belt towards knowing the truth, being irrational wasn’t a good idea at this point.

“Take it easy and tell me who you are talking about. Who do you mean by they?” My voice was calm, collected, my hands slightly raised, but I made it a point to lock my eyes to his. I didn’t want to come across defiant, or scared.

The harsh reality was: he could very well pump a bullet in my head and no one would know the difference. But something told me he wasn’t with them, but I also didn’t think he was with the cop that had just called either. And so the plot thickens.....

[.deceitful.]

I left the rookie there and strode down the stoop.

I needed to clear my head, for one, because this new case had my mind drifting in a thousand directions at once. Or at least that's how it felt. It wasn't that there were so many vague unknown details that all could have some significance. It was more that...shit, who am I kidding. All those unknowns bothered the hell out of me.

I drove.

I found myself driving the same roads I had last night...or was that simply deja vu? Sometimes the lights of this city all looked the same, repetitious fragments that never completed a whole puzzle.

Slowly though, I started to recognize places. Signs. The dumbfucks on the corner. The dark alleys. Busted streetlights.

It wasnt my stomping ground in particular but -- wait, was that who I thought it was? I could feel the frown creasing my forehead. I exhaled heavily, and then my mind was made up.

I had questions.

I hit the brakes; the pedal sank all the way to the floorboard while I furiously whipped the steering wheel. Somehow, my cigarette stuck between my lips while my free hand yanked the emergency brake.

My tires screamed in protest, leaving a thick layer of inky flesh across the blacktop, engine roaring as I coaxed the slide into a park. Everything rattled as I just barely bumped the curb -- but I had everybody's attention on the street.

I got out. Slammed the door. Crushed my hat atop my head. Exhaled a cloud of noxious smoke. Strode across the street; daring anybody to touch the car I'd deliberately left unlocked.

The door opened with a jingle and a maelstrom of smoke geysered out to join my own. I sat at the bar.

[King]

What the fuck is she talking about? Is she toying with me? My grip tightened noticeably as I edged the barrel closer, frustration lining my face with gritted teeth. "What do you me 'who'?!" I growled. "The same fuckers that killed John that night and shot me like a fucking deer in hunting season."

His name rolled from my tongue so fluently it was as if we'd been friends for years. In truth, I barely knew the man aside from his testing name and the facility we'd both served in. Then again, she sounded so sincere - had he really not told her? I would need to investigate before I continued and possibly fucked up my life. I gestured back toward the room she came from with the length of my pistol, signaling her to sit down.

I was recollecting some details. "I remember seeing you leave here after everything happened. How is it that you were the only survivor? Are you working with Cerberus?" It had been several long years since I spoke of that organization; every syllable racked my body with a pain so unreal I could have fallen to my knees right then and there. A floodgate of memories overwhelmed me all at once; it felt like I was watching thousands of movies simultaneously. But just as quickly as they came they were gone, replaced with the sight of the gun in my hands and the woman standing at the other end.

Depending on her answer(s), the cops may have had another rendezvous at this residence.

[Skylar]

My brows furrowed as I took a small step back as he shoved the gun in my face. Frankly, being scared shitless aside, I was gettin pissed.

"What do you me 'who'?!" "The same fuckers that killed John that night and shot me like a fucking deer in hunting season."

And then confused.

I know my mouth was agape as I looked at him. I felt the tears burn behind my eyes. The image of the last time I saw John as fresh in my mind as that night. Shocked, I did as motioned and went back into the room and sat down. It was dreamlike, really.

"I remember seeing you leave here after everything happened. How is it that you were the only survivor? Are you working with Cerberus?"

I shook my head. Not to his words really, but...I don’t know why really. I drew in a deep breath, my blood shot eyes staring at him. I opened my mouth to speak but the lump in my throat got in the way. Holding my hand up to him as to give me a moment, as if I had room to be asking for anything, I allowed myself a moment to simply weep...

I mean, what did I really have to lose telling this stranger everything? I had no idea who he was, though he seemed to know me. I drew in a deep breath and wiped the tears from my eyes...and with a swallow, I offered this man more information then I probably should have....”I’m sorry.” My first statement, for making him wait while I cried like a child...

“I don’t know who came in here and took John from me.” Saying his name tore the heart from my chest. “We were in the back room, he already had a bag packed for me. All he told me was to run, far away. He busted me on the head good, knocked me out.. He left me a note, too. And so I’ve been running, but no idea what from.”

I felt the tears again, christ, I never felt so weak. My shoulders were slumped inward, my head bowed from time to time when not looking him in his eyes. “They killed Brad...Jake...god knows who else. So I came back to find out what happened. And on the phone just now was some cop, but for some reason, John wanted me to run from even them, least that’s how I took it.”

I slyly pulled my sleeves down, covering the number I had written on my arm. I didn’t know who I could trust. “And as for Cerberus? I have no idea what that is.” The confusion was evident on her face, and every word she spoke dripped of honesty. With a gun pointed in her face, and nowhere to turn, she had no real reason to lie. She looked up at the man, placing her hand slowly on his that held the pistol, moving it from her face. “I’m sorry, that’s all I know...” her voice was but a hushed whisper as a few tears escaped their prison and ran down her cheeks...

[King]

Her words seemed sincere, but I had met many actresses in my time; if she was lying then she definitely deserved a Grammy. Whether or not she was working with Cerberus, I could tell she loved John. Maybe she'd gotten a little to intricate with her work-- or perhaps she was completely innocent, ignorant of her husbands dark past. That is what I feared the most, because now not only was she in danger but she was of no use to me.

We didn't have much time.

"Come on," I urged. The gun in my hand all but vanished as I tucked it away at the small of my back, extending a hand to help her out of the seat. "I'm sorry about all that, but I had to make sure I could trust you - even if just a little. I'll explain everything on the way but we can't stay here."

It didn't matter if she hesitated or not, for after I finished my sentence I would have already cupped her hand and tugged her from the structure. I walked hastily, but casually. I didn't want anyone who managed to see us to suspect anything, especially given the circumstances of the recent murder. I know I had some explaining to do, but right now wasn't the best time. I'd have to paraphrase the best I could if I wanted to make any sense of this to her.

"Look, I'm sorry about John." I wasn't looking at her. "But you can't hold on to that - you have to forget everything you ever knew about that man if you want to survive this. Your friends, your relatives-- everything is gone." It would only be a matter of minutes before we were at my car, which I would signal with a "Get in". The moment the doors closed, we'd be moving.

"If what you're saying is true, about you not knowing anything, then you're in one hell of a shit storm. Cerberus is going to hunt you down until you're dead - you don't have any other options. I'm sure John left you with some items, but it won't be enough to get you through this. Eventually, you'll run out. I can help." I'm sure a lot of what I was saying would have been coming out rather fast. "John and I-- we were cell mates at the same research facility. We broke out a couple of years ago to try and start over, but vowed to stay close in case something happened."

It looks like we were right to worry. . .

[Skylar]

"Come on,"
I heard his words, but they didn’t really register. I was so confused, more so then before if that was even possible..

"I'm sorry about all that, but I had to make sure I could trust you - even if just a little. I'll explain everything on the way but we can't stay here."

“On the way?” Was I really suppose to leave with this man? I still knew nothing about him, but I did take note that the gun was no longer pointed in my face, which made me feel a bit better. I’m not sure he heard me, as he had my hand in his, pulling me along...

He kept talking even as we were outside going toward a car. I looked at him as he motioned me to get in. Christ....what to do..

The car door slammed, and we began moving.

He wasted no time talking more and more. It was hard to take it all in really. So much, so fast....”Wait...dead, dead why? I don’t know anything...I don’t even know what you are talking about! Cell mates?” My hands came to my head as I brushed my hair from my face.

“Listen, I don’t know where you are planning to take me, but I need to stop by my motel and grab my shit. It’s right around the corner.” I was somber, my world not only crashed, but now it burned. Massive flames. And this stranger, who seemingly enough rode in like a fucking hero, was my only way to stay alive, and I didn’t even know his name....

“I’m Meg by the way. I’m sure you already know that, but it’s different coming from my mouth, I think.” I offered him a half hearted smile and looked out the windshield, we were almost to the motel. I was glad I didn’t unpack, I wouldn’t need but a minute to grab my things.

[King]

"It doesn't matter," I said almost too calmly. "If you were involved with John in any way you're a loose end to them; they don't like loose ends."

I managed to keep my eyes on the road the entire time until she said her name. Sure, I knew it, but like she expected it was so different leaving her lips instead of reading printed letters at the top of some paper. I glanced at her with a half-hearted smile that matched her own, at least to give her some comfort, and nodded. "I'm Christian, but you can call me Chris."

I didn't even realize I'd been veering off toward the motel. I guess her talk about it had got to me subconsciously, because for the majority of the time we were driving I could have swore I was heading straight to my apartment. But, I suppose it couldn't hurt.

We pulled into the lot, and instinctively I grabbed her hand to hold her in place just in case she was attempting to move too quickly. "Look, Meg. I know you're going through a lot but you have to trust me. You get in, you get out - talk to no one. You can't trust any of these people anymore; anyone may be working for Cerberus." I knew how stupid that sounded, especially since I was essentially asking her to trust me. "You've got five minutes and then I'm coming in after you."

[.deceitful.]

It wasn't long before a pretty girl with a hard face came to help me. She smiled widely enough but her eyes told the true story. I wasn't really a believer in the whole eyes being a window to the soul mantra, but sometimes...sometimes you could see something the other person probably wouldn't want you to.

I could see it in her eyes. Overworked, underpaid, and impatiently waiting for the time when she'd be able to indulge once more in whatever drug she favored.

She nodded at me, jutting her chin out and talking over the crowd's noise.

"What'll you have?"

It seemed my face wasn't known here. That was a good thing. I tugged at the brim of my hat.

"7 and 7."

"Like whiskey, huh?"

I watched her go about making my drink with just a bit of expected banter.

"Yeah, helps clear my mind."

My repartee garnered a smile. The glass hit the counter in front of me; so did her elbows. I slid it over to me and took a sip through the little black straw. It annoyed me so I handed it back to her and sipped straight from the glass.

"You're kinda stranger mister...never seen you in here before and this is a place mostly regulars come." I could see her head cant curiously.

I wouldn't give her any kind of satisfaction though -- I opened my mouth to respond, and before I knew it, he was on me.

Obnoxious laughter rung in my ear and I was lurched forward by the solid slap on my back.

"Heeeeey! Fancy seeing you here man! I never thought you'd be one to be out on the town like this, ahaha!"

I was right, it was him. The detective who'd originally handled the triple homicide case. I played nice, chatted him up. I noticed he was spending insane amounts of money, drinking from a bottle of Moet and throwing large bills at the bartenders.

The little feeling in the back of my head was starting to grow.

[Skylar]

I shook my head. I was so disappointed in myself to be such a fool. It almost made me mad, but there was really no point in getting mad right now, I need my head about me. He still hadn’t gone into detail about this place he was talking about, but of course, it was a short trip from my house to the motel.

“I like Christian..” The words kinda slipped out, but oh well, it was the truth at any rate. I was slightly surprised when he pulled into the motel. I had thought he wouldn’t allow the stop. It was a good call on his behalf, it only made me trust him that much more, which thus far, was little, but at least some.

I reached for the door handle, he grabbed my hand. I froze, looking back at him.

"Look, Meg. I know you're going through a lot but you have to trust me. You get in, you get out - talk to no one. You can't trust any of these people anymore; anyone may be working for Cerberus. You've got five minutes and then I'm coming in after you."

I nodded, dumbfounded. “I have a gun in one of my bags.” I blurted out foolishly. “What I mean is, I don’t want it to surprise you later.” I opened the door, but leaned back down looking into the car. “I only need two minutes...make it two, ok?” I left the door opened, I wasn’t expecting to even take that, I wanted outta this place, away from these memories, but something told me it had all just started all over again.

[King]

Two minutes. Mentally, I was literally counting away the seconds as they passed. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. . . Every now and then I would glance at her as she walked away, up until she disappeared behind some door. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three. . .

My counting was interrupted, however, when my cellphone rang. I'd been so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot I had it on me. Across the screen. . . Alex.

Hesitantly, I answered it.

"Christian?" Her voice was shaky, weak. "Christian, they found me. . ."

"Where are you now?"

"In the panic room. I- I tried to find you. . . but you weren't here!" She bursted into tears. "Oh god, they're trying to get through!"

"Alex, calm down. It'll be okay." My voice was unwavering when I spoke to her. I'd gone through this scenario one too many times; this would be the last time I talked to her, and she knew it too.

"Will it hurt?" Her voice turned stale, with a hint of hope.

"No, you won't feel a thing. Do you remember the code?"

"612345, right?"

"That's it." I could hear her punching the numbers in on the plasma screen; she was hitting them a little too hard, but it didn't matter.

"I love you." she sniveled. I could tell she was smiling her gorgeous, genuine smile from ear to ear, though.

"And I love you, more than you'll ever know."

"Goodbye. . ."

Static. I closed the phone and slipped it back into my pocket with a long, deep sigh. My eyes closed for quite some time and I leaned my head back against the seat, trying my best to remain calm and keep my solid resolve. It was harder than I thought. But as I told Meg, I had to forget my past life. I was no longer Christian Stewart, loving son and boyfriend. No, I was simply test subject 013, and I was on the run again. . .

Two minutes.

[Skylar]

I opened the door, and this time I was cautious, and took my time entering the room, that appeared empty. The only thing I needed was my bags, everything else was shoved in them. I grabbed them, tossed them over my shoulder, and reached the door...

The phone in my pocket was vibrating....

I pulled it out and looked at the screen. It had to be them...

“Hello?”
I was reluctant, I’m sure they heard that much in my voice.

“Ah, Meg, so glad it’s you answering and not your friend.”
They knew!? How could they know already!!?

I didn’t let them say anything else, I closed the phone and bolted out the door. I literally sprinted to the car and threw my bags into the still open door. Jumping in right after then I reached for the door but my hand slipped and I almost fell out, it hurt like hell....”Shit!..Drive, drive now! They know I’m with you!”

I managed to get the door closed, and for some reason locked the door, as if that may stop the bullet aimed at my head. Sliding into my seat belt and looked over at Christian, and he looked crushed....”Are you alright?”