****
The Twelfth Distinction. Male Factor. He knew about the female factor.
They were the Months, the twelve, of which Miss Parker was the first. It seemed
to make sense, in a strange way. A trial run. Take a reasonably intelligent,
good-looking woman with no genetic defects, such as Catharine Parker, and see
how her clones turned out. Twelve, all in a run. Raise them in different
environments, different countries, and they'd be mildly useful too - lab rats,
good for experiments and tests and even a little Pretending, and hell, one was
even good enough to be the Chairman's daughter. But really, they only existed
to see if they could *do* it. And of course, knowing they *could* didn't mean
they would be able to every time... how many failed foetuses were produced
before Gemini was born...?
Which led into a whole new series of questions. What number was Gemini?
How far apart were the births of these clones spaced? If Dante was the twelfth,
where were the others? Jarod only knew of one other; Gemini.
Of course, he thought, there was always the possibility that he himself
was one of the twelve. The first, maybe not even that. What if he had never
come from a mother and father at all? What if they were only the surrogates,
and somewhere out there existed a template, just like Catharine Parker?
"Oh God..." he moaned.
"Jarod, you need to sit down, your breathing has become erratic," Miss Parker
said, as though from a great distance.
Jarod stopped what he was doing, only then realising that he had been
pacing furiously. Feeling foggy, he focused on Miss Parker, who was sitting on
his bed in just her robe, his cell phone in her hand. He supposed she must have
finished the phone call for him - he couldn't remember anything else Broots had
said, or even if he had given the phone to Parker or simply dropped it. Shaking
his head, Jarod went to sit beside her on the bed, not thinking anything of the
fact that they were both in their pyjamas, sitting in a dark room in the middle
of the night. Somehow it made sense that their path in life would lead them
here, right here.
"Am I a clone? Where are they? Who has them, what are they doing to them?" he
asked, all in a rush, and Miss Parker just shook her head.
"I don't know," she whispered.
"It's so much bigger than I ever imagined! Twelve of you and twelve of me..."
he trailed of, his breathing echoing harshly.
"Jarod, you're going to hyperventilate," Miss Parker said calmly, and her hand
stroked down his back in a soothing motion.
Blindly he turned to her, curling his arms around her as she drew him into
her embrace, and his harsh, erratic breathing evolved into soft sobs. He buried
his face in her neck, shuddering with the force of his grief. In the back of
his mind he was grateful that she was there, to hold him in such a strangely
maternal way, and he clung to her all the more tightly.
****
In the morning, Miss Parker opened her eyes, giving a slight start of
surprise at the face that loomed over hers. Jarod blinked at her sudden jerk,
but didn't move away, and she touched a hand to her chest, trying to calm her
thumping heart.
"Jesus Jarod, you scared me," she muttered, offering a nervous smile that faded
in the face of his seriousness.
He had cried for a long time in the night, holding her close all the
while. Somehow they had drifted into the position of lying on the bed together,
his body half covering hers and his face in her neck as his sobs had faded into
soft hiccoughs. Finally his breathing had evened out, and his body relaxed
against her. He was heavy, and she had had to wiggle around a bit, but
eventually they were arranged so they moulded naturally together, and his full
weight was not on her.
Now he lay on his side beside her, resting his head on his hand and
leaning very close. The only sign of his tears the night before was a slight
puffiness around his eyes, otherwise he looked fully alert and refreshed.
Parker's gaze skittered briefly down to his bare, muscular chest, the dark curls
there and his flat brown nipples. She met his gaze again, so calm and serious,
and licked her lips. Was he going to kiss her?
"He can't stay there," he said.
It took Parker a minute to figure out what he was talking about, and she
took in a sharp breath when she did. "We can't *take* him, Jarod. How could
either of us look after a baby?" she asked.
"We can't leave him there," Jarod implored.
Miss Parker hesitated. She hoped that Jarod wasn't thinking they could
take him *together* and look after him *together*, because while she loved
Dante, a ready-made family unit just didn't appeal to her at this time. At one
stage she had thought about having children, had even seen it as a part of her
future when she was with Tommy... but a baby on the run? Her, Jarod and a baby,
on the run? Ridiculous!
"We can't let him grow up like we did..." Jarod said, and she shook her head
impatiently.
"Daddy raised me and I turned out fine-" she began.
"Your mother raised you, and Dante won't be raised like you were," Jarod
interrupted, and she could see the first hint of anger in his eyes, "They were
hiding him in plain sight, but only for so long. You know, Miss Parker, you
*know* that if he's a Pretender, it's only a matter of time before they isolate
him and begin the training..."
She did know. Dante's upbringing so far had probably been influenced by
Jarod's actions with Gemini before the baby was born - the Centre must have
realised that if a clone were secreted away within the Centre itself, then Jarod
would find and free the child. A child raised and treated as the Chairman's son
- that, Jarod would let go. She wondered when they had intended to take the
child away from the Centre, and all right under their noses.
"The three of us, together? It would be so dangerous..." she said anxiously.
Jarod rolled away from her, sitting up on the edge of the bed with his
back to her. "Then you take him, alone. Raise him, like your mother raised
you. At least then he will know love," he said softly.
With his quiet confidence, Miss Parker didn't have the heart to tell him
she didn't think she was capable. Dante was a beautiful child, and she truly
loved him, but she didn't think she could handle raising and supporting a child
at the same time as being on the run - which she surely would be for a long
time. The Centre would not stop looking for her while she had the child, not
ever.
"We'll get him then," she said, feeling immeasurably sad, "We'll take him.
He'll be free."
She didn't tell him that, when the time came, Dante would not be
travelling with her.
****
The next couple of days passed in a haze. With the decision to rescue
Dante came an unlikely sort of calm - they no longer needed to hesitate or
ponder over every decision - things were simply done, and with unspoken
communication, they organised themselves for the trip. The fact that they would
be travelling across the country by road was a foregone conclusion, catching a
plane would be too dangerous, what with the close call in Nevada. Jarod spent a
lot of his time in front of the computer, uploading a lot of the personal
information he had collected over time to a secure server, so that they could
dispose of their computers. Once that was done, he informed Miss Parker, he
would find all he could on Dante on the Centre's mainframe.
Miss Parker was in charge of transport. She drove their jeep to a nearby
used car yard, exchanging it for a hefty check, which supplemented the money
Jarod had given her. She was perusing the cars in the yard, looking for
something a bit sleeker and sportier, when she happened to glance across the
road. She grinned in glee, knowing she had found exactly what they were looking
for.
When she pulled up outside the motel almost two hours later, she saw the
curtains in the window of Jarod's room flutter, before his door opened and he
emerged, blinking in the sunlight, with a mild look of surprise. "I didn't
think you were the type," he said.
Parker removed her helmet and grinned, checking the kickstand was secure
before climbing off the Harley. She shook out her hair, tucking the helmet
under her arm, not missing the way Jarod's gaze ran appreciatively over her new
figure-hugging leather pants and jacket.
"Yeah, well, you should never try and 'type' someone, Jarod. FLHR Road King,
twin cam 88 engine, electronic fuel injection and triple disc brakes..." she
said with a smirk. She opened up on of the fibreglass saddlebags, tossing him a
helmet and a paper bag containing leathers and boots for him, "Are you impressed
yet?"
****
Miss Parker came to regret buying the bike. Taking turns to drive, she
spent several days in a row either pressed close against Jarod, or with him
pressed close to her, the skin-tight leather meaning they felt each muscle
moving against one another. By the time they made it to Maryland, only a
stone's throw away from the Delaware border, Miss Parker was beginning to look
at Jarod in a whole new light.
He was male, after all. A very attractive male, and she was very
decidedly female, a female who hadn't had male companionship in too long. And
every day she spent clinging to his back, her arms around him, her hands on his
broad chest, or holding his lean hips, resting on his muscular thighs, everyday
she spent pressed close to him or with him pressed close to her was another day
where she found her resolve slowly weakening.
A relationship was out of the question. But surely that didn't mean they
couldn't have *something*?
****
In the depths of the Centre, chaos was erupting. Lyle, Raines and Mr
Parker stood impassively over Dante, a small, frightened child who was crying
for comfort. Lyle studied the child for features of the man he would become - a
Pretender. But Dante was not showing incredible genius as he sat on the floor,
rubbing his eyes with curled fists, his cheeks stained with tears. Dante looked
like a cute little boy, who was very afraid.
Although he searched his heart, Lyle found no compassion.
"The techie and Sydney have gone," Raines rasped angrily, "Jarod must know about
the Distinction Project, including Miss Parker's involvement."
"It is only a matter of time before he learns of Vita Nuova," Lyle said, his
lips thinning angrily. This should never have happened. The Months should
never have found each other. He touched a cut on the side of his face gingerly
and grimaced.
"My daughter will not allow Jarod to capture Dante," Mr Parker said confidently.
"You *must* consider the possibility that she is no longer a captive... and
perhaps never was," Raines said angrily. Lyle nodded.
"Dad, there were no signs of restraints in the house in Nevada..."
They all looked up as a timid-looking woman shuffled into the room. She
held out an envelope to the Chairman, who looked through her as he took it, not
bothering to say any thanks. She disappeared back into the gloom, and Lyle
watched her with interest. Mr Parker opened the envelope, withdrawing two
Polaroids. "What do you call this then, hey?" he harrumphed.
The pictures were of Miss Parker and Jarod, with Miss Parker tied to a
chair and looking scared, furious and bruised. Jarod stood over her, rumpled
and edgy. In the first Polaroid he held a national newspaper, the headlines
Lyle recognised from a few days ago. In the second Polaroid, Jarod held a
cardboard sign - 'Give me my family and you'll get yours.'
Mr Parker tucked them into the breast pocket of his suit, setting his
mouth grimly. "My daughter is still a captive. But she's smart, and as soon as
Jarod or the clones turn their backs on her for one minute she'll be free. And
I trust her to do the right thing," he said, and eyed Dante, "In the meantime, I
suggest we get the child into Africa and out of harm's way. Who knows what
stunt Jarod will pull next. It's obvious the boy has gone mad."
Lyle gazed at the child thoughtfully. He decided he might volunteer to
accompany the infant himself; he had recently discovered there was a woman named
June in Cairo, whom he wouldn't mind paying a visit to...
****
Jarod bought himself a new laptop. He would have felt too conspicuous
using a computer at a public facility such as a library to check his email.
Miss Parker was in the shower in her room, and he set up at the rickety table by
the window in his, the last of the evening light fading away. It took him half
an hour to set and adjust all the security measures he needed so he couldn't be
chased, then he logged onto his email.
There was only one email in his Inbox, a large file with several attachments.
Jarod opened it, waiting for everything to download. It had no text, and was
signed simply -CJ. The first attachment was a scanned picture of Dante,
probably taken from his file. A black marker had been used to outline a shape,
and it took Jarod only a moment to realise that it was an outline of Africa.
Angelo was telling him the boy was going to be sent to Africa.
The second attachment was also scanned, an internal Centre memo. It was dated
that very day, and was neither addressed nor signed. It read: 'THE TWELFTH
DISTINCTION MAY BE COMPROMISED. TRANSPORT SCHEDULED.' And below that was a
date and time - the next day.
The third and final attachment was a roadmap of Blue Cove and surrounding areas.
The Centre was not on the map, but a line had been drawn in red marker from
where the Centre should be to another point on the map, which also appeared to
have nothing of particular import. After studying it for a few moments, and
judging the distance and direction, Jarod realised that it was probably one of
the Centre's airstrip - another thing never found on any map.
Jarod clenched his fist. Dante was going to be sent to Africa the very next
day, probably to spend the rest of his life in isolation and misery, just as
Jarod had. He would not allow it to happen to another child - he didn't care
what odds they were up against, they *would* free Dante.
"Find anything interesting?" Miss Parker asked. She was leaning casually in the
adjoining doorway, her damp hair settled around her shoulders. Her robe was
clinging to her body, and she wore no makeup - she looked fresh, clean and
beautiful.
"Angelo sent us some information. Dante is being transported at noon tomorrow,
we can intercept them on the way to the airstrip," he said. He stood, shutting
down the laptop with a few keystrokes.
Parker came into his room, going to the window and drawing the curtains
closed, eliminating the light of dusk. A light was on in her room, in the
bathroom probably, and enough filtered through into his rooms so that he could
make out her figure moving towards him.
"Everything's going to be okay," she said softly.
Jarod felt her hands land on his shoulders, sliding across them and
tugging him closer. Her hands trailed down to the buttons of the white dress
shirt he had worn to go buy the laptop with, and she began flicking them open,
one by one.
"What are you doing?" Jarod asked unevenly.
"What we both want to happen," Miss Parker said.
She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, raising her mouth up so he met her
in a kiss. It was gentle, and he savoured it, his mouth brushing slowly over
hers, with just a hint of the passion that lay beneath.
Miss Parker tugged on the undershirt he was wearing, and Jarod
straightened up to pull it over his head, startling when her cold hands landed
over his nipples, caressing gently. He was reminded of when she had cared for
him on Laredii, the inadvertent touches that had aroused him so much.
"I thought you didn't want a relationship," he said breathily, pulling her
closer by her hips. His mouth brushed over hers again, and he bent to taste her
neck as she replied.
"I don't, Jarod. But it would stupid to ignore what we have here, what we can
have here. We can have this night, this time, Jarod, all to ourselves."
Jarod went cold. He stopped al movement, standing stiff and resisting as
Parker ran her hands across his chest, down his arms. He closed his eyes in
anguish. She wanted sex. She wanted to have sex with him, not make love. Miss
Parker, confused by his unresponsiveness, drew back questioningly.
"I don't want... *one* night, Miss Parker," he rasped. His hands still on her
hips, he set her away from him. It would be so easy to fall into bed with her,
he realised. He caught her hands as she tried to pull him closer again, opening
his eyes to stare at her grimly, "I don't want one night, Miss Parker, or one
week. I don't want casual sex because we have chemistry. I don't want the
reasons to start with 'Because we could'."
"Jarod..." she said, and he shook his head.
"No! Dammit, I want a lifetime with you, not one night! I want more than just
another experience, another bump in the road. I want everything. I'm falling
in-" Jarod bit off the last sentence painfully. He could not say those words,
knowing she could not return them. Knowing that her advances on him tonight
were based on lust, not love. "I can't. I think you had better go," he
whispered.
Miss Parker backed away slowly, her eyes wide and sad. She nodded,
dropping her eyes as she turned and left the room. She closed the door behind
her, leaving Jarod in darkness. He lay down on his bed, feeling lonely. He
closed his eyes, sorting through memories in his head. Miss Parker as a little
girl, so trembly and tearful after her mother's death. There were several
extremely hazy memories of her soft voice and comforting hands, assuring him
that everything would be all right during the Specifics attack. The scent of
her perfume in Room 4.
He had a hundred different memories that he had gathered once he escaped -
her disgruntled phone manner, her penchant for short skirts and high heels. The
way she had looked, wet and rumpled in the Florida Keys, the scent of rain
clinging to her. And he had fantasised about he reading the novel he had
written for her for months, fantasised her reading it and thinking of him.
There were several memories he could do without - Parker getting blind
drunk after Tommy's death. Seeing her shot at Donoterase. He could never wish
her any pain or harm, and while he had been a little jealous of Thomas Gates, he
had been glad that she had found happiness.
And then there was the fiasco at Laredii Island. Seeing her in the
compound, coming to his rescue, had delighted him. Over those days, they had
developed a forced intimacy, culminated by an abrupt kiss on a tin skip in the
middle of an empty ocean. Their relationship had had a long, troubled history,
but as Jarod had come closer and closer to her over the years, he had felt an
emotion growing in him that he could no longer suppress.
****
"This is Sydney," Sydney murmured. He sat up in bed, turning on a lamp. The
silence dragged on, marked only by the very faint sounds of someone breathing on
the other end. Sydney smiled, "Jarod. It is good to hear from you."
"Hello Sydney," Jarod acknowledged finally, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, of course. Broots and I got away fairly easily, the Centre's attentions
have been diverted. How are you and Miss Parker?"
Standing in front of his motel room, looking up at the stars, Jarod
grimaced. He wandered toward a picnic table on a patch of grass a little way
away from the block of rooms, not wanting Miss Parker to overhear the
conversation. "We're okay. We've been travelling together," he said.
"What on earth is going on, Jarod? Broots mentioned something about clones, do
you know anything about it?" Syd asked. Jarod smiled wryly.
"It's a bit much to go into right now, Sydney, I'll explain everything another
time. For the moment, Miss Parker and I are fine."
Jarod almost choked on the last word, and swallowed heavily a few times to
try and compose himself. There was a long, heavy silence, before Sydney asked
gently, "Is there something wrong, Jarod?"
"I think... I think I'm falling in love with her," he whispered, a few hot tears
rolling down his cheeks, "I think I'm falling for the one person I can never
truly have."
Sydney sighed heavily. "Does she know how you feel about her?"
"Yeah," Jarod said, chuckling without humour, "I think I made that pretty clear
tonight. She offered herself. For one night. But it wasn't enough for me."
"That's understandable, Jarod. When emotions are involved, sex and lust can
quite often come a far second."
"So if she offered me only sex and lust, I guess that means emotions aren't
involved for her," Jarod said bitterly.
"Not necessarily," Sydney said, and paused to gather his thoughts, "Miss Parker
has many defence mechanisms that have become integral to her personality. She
hides her fear and uncertainty by creating an aura of strength and violence.
Beneath her hard, angry exterior, we both know she is capable of great love and
compassion. It could be that she is using her baser feelings, such as sexual
desire, to mask what she really feels - something much more tender. She has
been hurt many times, Jarod. Perhaps she is afraid to fall in love."
Jarod nodded slowly, knowing that it made sense. He just needed time,
with Miss Parker; time to draw out what she was really feeling. "Thankyou
Sydney," he said, and ended the call.
****
Miss Parker could feel the sweat trickling down her back. She pushed up
the sleeve of her tight-fitting leather jacket, checking her watch. It was
almost ten minutes past noon - the car containing Dante was due any moment now.
She was crouched on the slope that fell away from the road, her gun at the
ready. A large outcrop of rocks was on the other side of the road, about twenty
feet further on, and she clutched the remote she held even tighter, praying that
everything would go to plan. Checking her watch again, she pulled her helmet
over her head, its visor hiding her face. She wore black boots, black leather
pants, her black leather jacket and black leather gloves. It was a tight,
streamlined outfit. She knew Jarod would be wearing the same.
She shifted again, uncomfortable in the hot afternoon sun. She felt
strangely relieved when she saw a black town car coming towards her, hating the
sense of waiting. Her finger hovering over the trigger on the remote, Parker
watched the car. Went it was around fifty feet away, she hit the trigger.
There was a muffled explosion, and the rocks on the other side of the road began
to slide towards the asphalt. Miss Parker ducked as dust and stones flew in her
direction.
The town car braked suddenly, screeching to a halt in front of the
landslide. Peeking up from her hiding place, Parker watched as the dust
settled, hearing the roar of a motorbike starting suddenly, and further up the
road, Jarod came into view on their Harley, racing at a breakneck speed towards
the town car. Two suited figures leapt out of the car immediately, raising
weapons.
In an instant, Miss Parker stood, taking aim and shooting one of them with
a tranquilliser dart. He wavered on his feet, sinking to the ground as Miss
Parker reloaded, her hands trembling. Jarod skidded the bike to a halt, looking
forbidding and impressive in his dark clothing. She raised the dart gun again,
shooting a second one into the other sweeper just as he pulled the trigger,
causing his shot to go wild as he dropped.
Jarod jumped off the bike, and she ran towards him, yanking her 9mm out of
her belt as she went. Jarod jerked open one of the doors on the far side of the
car, and she could hear him yelling for the people inside to get out of the car.
She ran up just as the front passenger door closest to her opened, and slammed
the butt of her gun onto a sweeper's head just as he emerged from the car,
knocking him unconscious.
On the other side of the car, Parker could see two more people emerging
from the car - Lyle and her father. Lyle was holding Dante, who was crying
fiercely. Glancing into the car to make sure nobody else was inside, she
circled around the car, her gun braced in front of her. Lyle watched her as she
came to stand beside Jarod, his eyes lingering on her slim figure.
"So is it September?" I don't think so, my September was never this brave.
Perhaps you're the other one. What Month are you?" he sneered.
Jarod yanked off his helmet, his anger written all over his face. He
glanced at Parker, and she nodded slightly. "Give me the child," he growled
dangerously. Lyle smiled maliciously.
"Catch!" he said.
In a blur of motion, Lyle thrust Dante away from him suddenly, throwing
him into the air, causing the little boy to scream in fright. Shocked, Jarod
dropped his gun, reaching out to grab Dante just seconds before he would have
hit the ground. Lyle snatched up his gun, holding it to Jarod's head as he held
the tiny child close to his chest. Miss Parker stepped forward, holding her gun
on Lyle.
"Drop your weapon!" she yelled. Her father's eyes went wide.
"Angel, is that you?" Mr Parker asked.
Miss Parker yanked off her helmet, her long hair spilling around her
shoulders. Her father gaped, and Lyle smirked. "I knew it!" he crowed, "You've
probably been screwing Jarod all along, haven't you, dear *sister*? Or perhaps
I should call you Mom? But then again, you're just a cheap imitation, aren't
you?"
Miss Parker clenched her jaw, her finger sliding over the trigger. Her
father stepped forward slightly, and she glanced nervously at him before
focusing her attention back on Lyle. Jarod was trying to step away from the
gun, holding Dante tightly. "Angel! I demand an explanation!" her father
thundered, and she could have laughed.
"Shouldn't I be the one who deserves and explanation?" she asked, a hint of
hysteria in her voice, "Let's start with the fact that I'm a clone. Or, maybe
you should tell me why you cloned Mama in the first place. I seriously doubt it
was because you loved her so much you wanted to see more of her!"
"Angel, enough. This has just been one big mix up. We have Jarod, let's take
him home," Mr Parker said soothingly, "We can just forget about this whole clone
business. Once Jarod is back in the Centre, you've fulfilled your end of the
deal. You can be free, Angel, nobody will ever chase you..."
Parker shifted her gaze to him nervously. "I don't believe you," she
whispered brokenly.
"It's all okay," her father said, "Just put the gun down, and everything will be
alright. You never have to think about any of this again. You're my daughter,
and I love you."
Miss Parker's grip on her gun wavered. She wanted, more than anything, to
believe him. She flickered a glance at Jarod, who gazed at her beseechingly.
It would be so easy, she realised, to give in. To see Jarod and Dante returned
to the Centre, to walk away and forget it all. All she had to do was lower her
gun.
Instead, she shot Lyle in the chest.
"Angel!" her father cried out, aghast.
Lyle dropped his gun, his face going ashen. He looked down, his mouth
opening soundlessly, pushing his suit jacket out of the way to reveal a slowly
spreading red blister on his chest. He coughed, a deep, wet sound, touching his
fingers to his chest and pulling them away to look at the blood, shiny and
slick. His whole body shuddered, and he dropped heavily to his knees, looking
up at Miss Parker, his eyes wide with shock.
"My name is January," Miss Parker said softly, turning to aim her gun at her
father, "I am a clone, and I am exactly what you have made me."
"Miss Parker," Jarod said, as though from very far away, but she ignored him,
stepping closer to her father instead. He raised his hands in surrender.
"Now, sweetheart, I loved your mother, I only wanted her to have the child she
longed for so desperately..." he said nervously, backing up as she advanced on
him.
"Are you proud... *Daddy*?" Parker asked bitterly, "Are you proud of me? I
would have done anything for you. Anything just to know you loved me. But you
just couldn't love a daughter who was no daughter at all, could you? I'm a
creation of your own sick and dirty work, and you'll never see anything but
Frankenstein's monster in me, will you?"
"Miss Parker, stop!" Jarod called, but she ignored him.
"Every time I looked at you, I only saw your mother," Mr Parker said quietly,
"It became easier not to look at you at all."
"Get on your knees," she said quietly. Her father stared at her, looking
genuinely afraid, and hesitated. She yelled, "Get on your knees!"
Gingerly, her father knelt, closing his eyes as she stood over him,
pressing the muzzle of her gun between his eyes. His breath was short and fast,
and he trembled slightly. In that moment, Miss Parker could remember every
birthday he had forgotten, every missed dinner and phone call cut-short. She
could remember every time he had broken her heart, and all because he couldn't
stand her for what she was. No wonder he had told her never to use her real
name - not because he wanted to protect her, but because he didn't want to
acknowledge her.
Her finger tightened over the trigger.
"Miss Parker, you're better than this, you're better than him. You can walk
away," she heard Jarod say behind her, very quietly.
Letting out a muffled sob, she raised the butt of her gun, slamming it
down onto her father's head. He collapsed forwards, unconscious, and she turned
around, holding the gun out and away from her, letting it dangle from one finger
by the trigger-guard. Looking grim, Jarod took it from her, putting the safety
back on and putting it in his pocket. Dante, looking red-faced and scared in
Jarod's arms, craned around to look at her.
"Sis-sis!" he cried, reaching for her. Miss Parker scooped him into her arms
gratefully, holding him close. He snuggled against her, still crying softly.
"Do you here that?" Jarod asked.
Miss Parker tilted her head - in the distance she could hear the blades of
a chopper, coming closer. One of the sweepers had probably alerted the Centre
before being knocked out. She held out her hand, which Jarod took.
"Let's go."
****
Jarod drove them to the large central train station in Dover. He took
back roads and detours, aware that it was very likely that Centre goons were hot
on their trail. They didn't speak as they went inside, Jarod pushing through
the crowds, Miss Parker following with Dante, who was asleep in her arms. Close
to the ticketing counter, they stopped.
"I thought we could get a train to NYC, and decide where to go from there,"
Jarod said, scanning the departure times on a large overhead monitor. Miss
Parker said something that he couldn't hear, and distracted, Jarod leaned
forward. "What?" he said loudly.
"I'm not going with you!" she yelled.
Jarod gaped at her. He hadn't expected their split to be so soon, he
wasn't prepared. He didn't want to say goodbye to her and Dante yet. "But..."
he protested, "Miss Parker, you can't go on the run with a baby by yourself, you
don't know how to avoid the Centre well enough yet!"
"I know!" she shouted back. She pushed Dante into his arms, and Jarod took the
baby, feeling a coldness start in his heart, spreading outwards. Miss Parker
shook her head, "You're taking the baby, Jarod. They'll be looking for me and
him, they won't expect you to take him."
"No!" Jarod said frantically. Through the crowds, he thought he spotted a dark
suit.
"I'm not a mother, Jarod! You can raise him with the love he deserves. You'll
be a good father to him!" Miss Parker called. Already, she was moving away from
him.
"No!" Jarod called, following, pushing past people to get to her. He caught her
arm, dragged her close, trying to balance the baby, hold onto her and keep an
eye out for sweepers all at once, "You can't leave me! Parker, I need you!"
Miss Parker mouthed some words he didn't hear, an announcement drowning
her out. Jarod clutched at her arm, but his grip on Dante was slipping, and he
had to awkwardly shuffle the child from one arm to the other. He pulled Parker
close again. "I think I'm in love with you!" he said desperately.
She wiped the tears from his cheeks, passed her palm tenderly over Dante's
soft curls, and slipped away from him again. Jarod's chest heaved, and he went
to move after her again, blocked by a mother and a small child. He strained to
see her over the crowds. "When will I see you again?" he yelled. He thought
Miss Parker might have blown him a kiss over her shoulder, but then she was
gone, disappearing into the snarl of people.
Forlorn, Jarod stood by himself, cradling Dante against his chest. He was
aware that sweepers were coming in his direction, although they had not spotted
him yet. He would have to go, and soon - there was no chance of trailing her,
it was too dangerous. He had Dante would have to run. He and Dante, he
realised, only had each other now. He didn't know when, or if, he would see
Miss Parker again.
But somehow, Jarod knew, fate had brought them this far, and would bring
them together again.
Dante raised his head sleepily, blinking up at Jarod with soulful brown
eyes. Jarod adjusted the child on his hip, the weight of responsibility
crashing down on him. He was now sole parent and guardian to this tiny little
boy, who had no understanding of the danger his very existence put him in.
"Hi Dante," said Jarod.
"He'lo," Dante said, smiling shyly.
"My name is Jarod," he said, filled with irony, "I'll be taking care of you for
awhile."
The End.
Author's notes: This is it, folks, my longest Pretender story ever at just over
29,000 words. If you liked this story, please drop me a line to let me know.
Another story in the Genesis Series will follow this one, although I don't know
if it will be as long.
The Twelfth Distinction. Male Factor. He knew about the female factor.
They were the Months, the twelve, of which Miss Parker was the first. It seemed
to make sense, in a strange way. A trial run. Take a reasonably intelligent,
good-looking woman with no genetic defects, such as Catharine Parker, and see
how her clones turned out. Twelve, all in a run. Raise them in different
environments, different countries, and they'd be mildly useful too - lab rats,
good for experiments and tests and even a little Pretending, and hell, one was
even good enough to be the Chairman's daughter. But really, they only existed
to see if they could *do* it. And of course, knowing they *could* didn't mean
they would be able to every time... how many failed foetuses were produced
before Gemini was born...?
Which led into a whole new series of questions. What number was Gemini?
How far apart were the births of these clones spaced? If Dante was the twelfth,
where were the others? Jarod only knew of one other; Gemini.
Of course, he thought, there was always the possibility that he himself
was one of the twelve. The first, maybe not even that. What if he had never
come from a mother and father at all? What if they were only the surrogates,
and somewhere out there existed a template, just like Catharine Parker?
"Oh God..." he moaned.
"Jarod, you need to sit down, your breathing has become erratic," Miss Parker
said, as though from a great distance.
Jarod stopped what he was doing, only then realising that he had been
pacing furiously. Feeling foggy, he focused on Miss Parker, who was sitting on
his bed in just her robe, his cell phone in her hand. He supposed she must have
finished the phone call for him - he couldn't remember anything else Broots had
said, or even if he had given the phone to Parker or simply dropped it. Shaking
his head, Jarod went to sit beside her on the bed, not thinking anything of the
fact that they were both in their pyjamas, sitting in a dark room in the middle
of the night. Somehow it made sense that their path in life would lead them
here, right here.
"Am I a clone? Where are they? Who has them, what are they doing to them?" he
asked, all in a rush, and Miss Parker just shook her head.
"I don't know," she whispered.
"It's so much bigger than I ever imagined! Twelve of you and twelve of me..."
he trailed of, his breathing echoing harshly.
"Jarod, you're going to hyperventilate," Miss Parker said calmly, and her hand
stroked down his back in a soothing motion.
Blindly he turned to her, curling his arms around her as she drew him into
her embrace, and his harsh, erratic breathing evolved into soft sobs. He buried
his face in her neck, shuddering with the force of his grief. In the back of
his mind he was grateful that she was there, to hold him in such a strangely
maternal way, and he clung to her all the more tightly.
****
In the morning, Miss Parker opened her eyes, giving a slight start of
surprise at the face that loomed over hers. Jarod blinked at her sudden jerk,
but didn't move away, and she touched a hand to her chest, trying to calm her
thumping heart.
"Jesus Jarod, you scared me," she muttered, offering a nervous smile that faded
in the face of his seriousness.
He had cried for a long time in the night, holding her close all the
while. Somehow they had drifted into the position of lying on the bed together,
his body half covering hers and his face in her neck as his sobs had faded into
soft hiccoughs. Finally his breathing had evened out, and his body relaxed
against her. He was heavy, and she had had to wiggle around a bit, but
eventually they were arranged so they moulded naturally together, and his full
weight was not on her.
Now he lay on his side beside her, resting his head on his hand and
leaning very close. The only sign of his tears the night before was a slight
puffiness around his eyes, otherwise he looked fully alert and refreshed.
Parker's gaze skittered briefly down to his bare, muscular chest, the dark curls
there and his flat brown nipples. She met his gaze again, so calm and serious,
and licked her lips. Was he going to kiss her?
"He can't stay there," he said.
It took Parker a minute to figure out what he was talking about, and she
took in a sharp breath when she did. "We can't *take* him, Jarod. How could
either of us look after a baby?" she asked.
"We can't leave him there," Jarod implored.
Miss Parker hesitated. She hoped that Jarod wasn't thinking they could
take him *together* and look after him *together*, because while she loved
Dante, a ready-made family unit just didn't appeal to her at this time. At one
stage she had thought about having children, had even seen it as a part of her
future when she was with Tommy... but a baby on the run? Her, Jarod and a baby,
on the run? Ridiculous!
"We can't let him grow up like we did..." Jarod said, and she shook her head
impatiently.
"Daddy raised me and I turned out fine-" she began.
"Your mother raised you, and Dante won't be raised like you were," Jarod
interrupted, and she could see the first hint of anger in his eyes, "They were
hiding him in plain sight, but only for so long. You know, Miss Parker, you
*know* that if he's a Pretender, it's only a matter of time before they isolate
him and begin the training..."
She did know. Dante's upbringing so far had probably been influenced by
Jarod's actions with Gemini before the baby was born - the Centre must have
realised that if a clone were secreted away within the Centre itself, then Jarod
would find and free the child. A child raised and treated as the Chairman's son
- that, Jarod would let go. She wondered when they had intended to take the
child away from the Centre, and all right under their noses.
"The three of us, together? It would be so dangerous..." she said anxiously.
Jarod rolled away from her, sitting up on the edge of the bed with his
back to her. "Then you take him, alone. Raise him, like your mother raised
you. At least then he will know love," he said softly.
With his quiet confidence, Miss Parker didn't have the heart to tell him
she didn't think she was capable. Dante was a beautiful child, and she truly
loved him, but she didn't think she could handle raising and supporting a child
at the same time as being on the run - which she surely would be for a long
time. The Centre would not stop looking for her while she had the child, not
ever.
"We'll get him then," she said, feeling immeasurably sad, "We'll take him.
He'll be free."
She didn't tell him that, when the time came, Dante would not be
travelling with her.
****
The next couple of days passed in a haze. With the decision to rescue
Dante came an unlikely sort of calm - they no longer needed to hesitate or
ponder over every decision - things were simply done, and with unspoken
communication, they organised themselves for the trip. The fact that they would
be travelling across the country by road was a foregone conclusion, catching a
plane would be too dangerous, what with the close call in Nevada. Jarod spent a
lot of his time in front of the computer, uploading a lot of the personal
information he had collected over time to a secure server, so that they could
dispose of their computers. Once that was done, he informed Miss Parker, he
would find all he could on Dante on the Centre's mainframe.
Miss Parker was in charge of transport. She drove their jeep to a nearby
used car yard, exchanging it for a hefty check, which supplemented the money
Jarod had given her. She was perusing the cars in the yard, looking for
something a bit sleeker and sportier, when she happened to glance across the
road. She grinned in glee, knowing she had found exactly what they were looking
for.
When she pulled up outside the motel almost two hours later, she saw the
curtains in the window of Jarod's room flutter, before his door opened and he
emerged, blinking in the sunlight, with a mild look of surprise. "I didn't
think you were the type," he said.
Parker removed her helmet and grinned, checking the kickstand was secure
before climbing off the Harley. She shook out her hair, tucking the helmet
under her arm, not missing the way Jarod's gaze ran appreciatively over her new
figure-hugging leather pants and jacket.
"Yeah, well, you should never try and 'type' someone, Jarod. FLHR Road King,
twin cam 88 engine, electronic fuel injection and triple disc brakes..." she
said with a smirk. She opened up on of the fibreglass saddlebags, tossing him a
helmet and a paper bag containing leathers and boots for him, "Are you impressed
yet?"
****
Miss Parker came to regret buying the bike. Taking turns to drive, she
spent several days in a row either pressed close against Jarod, or with him
pressed close to her, the skin-tight leather meaning they felt each muscle
moving against one another. By the time they made it to Maryland, only a
stone's throw away from the Delaware border, Miss Parker was beginning to look
at Jarod in a whole new light.
He was male, after all. A very attractive male, and she was very
decidedly female, a female who hadn't had male companionship in too long. And
every day she spent clinging to his back, her arms around him, her hands on his
broad chest, or holding his lean hips, resting on his muscular thighs, everyday
she spent pressed close to him or with him pressed close to her was another day
where she found her resolve slowly weakening.
A relationship was out of the question. But surely that didn't mean they
couldn't have *something*?
****
In the depths of the Centre, chaos was erupting. Lyle, Raines and Mr
Parker stood impassively over Dante, a small, frightened child who was crying
for comfort. Lyle studied the child for features of the man he would become - a
Pretender. But Dante was not showing incredible genius as he sat on the floor,
rubbing his eyes with curled fists, his cheeks stained with tears. Dante looked
like a cute little boy, who was very afraid.
Although he searched his heart, Lyle found no compassion.
"The techie and Sydney have gone," Raines rasped angrily, "Jarod must know about
the Distinction Project, including Miss Parker's involvement."
"It is only a matter of time before he learns of Vita Nuova," Lyle said, his
lips thinning angrily. This should never have happened. The Months should
never have found each other. He touched a cut on the side of his face gingerly
and grimaced.
"My daughter will not allow Jarod to capture Dante," Mr Parker said confidently.
"You *must* consider the possibility that she is no longer a captive... and
perhaps never was," Raines said angrily. Lyle nodded.
"Dad, there were no signs of restraints in the house in Nevada..."
They all looked up as a timid-looking woman shuffled into the room. She
held out an envelope to the Chairman, who looked through her as he took it, not
bothering to say any thanks. She disappeared back into the gloom, and Lyle
watched her with interest. Mr Parker opened the envelope, withdrawing two
Polaroids. "What do you call this then, hey?" he harrumphed.
The pictures were of Miss Parker and Jarod, with Miss Parker tied to a
chair and looking scared, furious and bruised. Jarod stood over her, rumpled
and edgy. In the first Polaroid he held a national newspaper, the headlines
Lyle recognised from a few days ago. In the second Polaroid, Jarod held a
cardboard sign - 'Give me my family and you'll get yours.'
Mr Parker tucked them into the breast pocket of his suit, setting his
mouth grimly. "My daughter is still a captive. But she's smart, and as soon as
Jarod or the clones turn their backs on her for one minute she'll be free. And
I trust her to do the right thing," he said, and eyed Dante, "In the meantime, I
suggest we get the child into Africa and out of harm's way. Who knows what
stunt Jarod will pull next. It's obvious the boy has gone mad."
Lyle gazed at the child thoughtfully. He decided he might volunteer to
accompany the infant himself; he had recently discovered there was a woman named
June in Cairo, whom he wouldn't mind paying a visit to...
****
Jarod bought himself a new laptop. He would have felt too conspicuous
using a computer at a public facility such as a library to check his email.
Miss Parker was in the shower in her room, and he set up at the rickety table by
the window in his, the last of the evening light fading away. It took him half
an hour to set and adjust all the security measures he needed so he couldn't be
chased, then he logged onto his email.
There was only one email in his Inbox, a large file with several attachments.
Jarod opened it, waiting for everything to download. It had no text, and was
signed simply -CJ. The first attachment was a scanned picture of Dante,
probably taken from his file. A black marker had been used to outline a shape,
and it took Jarod only a moment to realise that it was an outline of Africa.
Angelo was telling him the boy was going to be sent to Africa.
The second attachment was also scanned, an internal Centre memo. It was dated
that very day, and was neither addressed nor signed. It read: 'THE TWELFTH
DISTINCTION MAY BE COMPROMISED. TRANSPORT SCHEDULED.' And below that was a
date and time - the next day.
The third and final attachment was a roadmap of Blue Cove and surrounding areas.
The Centre was not on the map, but a line had been drawn in red marker from
where the Centre should be to another point on the map, which also appeared to
have nothing of particular import. After studying it for a few moments, and
judging the distance and direction, Jarod realised that it was probably one of
the Centre's airstrip - another thing never found on any map.
Jarod clenched his fist. Dante was going to be sent to Africa the very next
day, probably to spend the rest of his life in isolation and misery, just as
Jarod had. He would not allow it to happen to another child - he didn't care
what odds they were up against, they *would* free Dante.
"Find anything interesting?" Miss Parker asked. She was leaning casually in the
adjoining doorway, her damp hair settled around her shoulders. Her robe was
clinging to her body, and she wore no makeup - she looked fresh, clean and
beautiful.
"Angelo sent us some information. Dante is being transported at noon tomorrow,
we can intercept them on the way to the airstrip," he said. He stood, shutting
down the laptop with a few keystrokes.
Parker came into his room, going to the window and drawing the curtains
closed, eliminating the light of dusk. A light was on in her room, in the
bathroom probably, and enough filtered through into his rooms so that he could
make out her figure moving towards him.
"Everything's going to be okay," she said softly.
Jarod felt her hands land on his shoulders, sliding across them and
tugging him closer. Her hands trailed down to the buttons of the white dress
shirt he had worn to go buy the laptop with, and she began flicking them open,
one by one.
"What are you doing?" Jarod asked unevenly.
"What we both want to happen," Miss Parker said.
She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, raising her mouth up so he met her
in a kiss. It was gentle, and he savoured it, his mouth brushing slowly over
hers, with just a hint of the passion that lay beneath.
Miss Parker tugged on the undershirt he was wearing, and Jarod
straightened up to pull it over his head, startling when her cold hands landed
over his nipples, caressing gently. He was reminded of when she had cared for
him on Laredii, the inadvertent touches that had aroused him so much.
"I thought you didn't want a relationship," he said breathily, pulling her
closer by her hips. His mouth brushed over hers again, and he bent to taste her
neck as she replied.
"I don't, Jarod. But it would stupid to ignore what we have here, what we can
have here. We can have this night, this time, Jarod, all to ourselves."
Jarod went cold. He stopped al movement, standing stiff and resisting as
Parker ran her hands across his chest, down his arms. He closed his eyes in
anguish. She wanted sex. She wanted to have sex with him, not make love. Miss
Parker, confused by his unresponsiveness, drew back questioningly.
"I don't want... *one* night, Miss Parker," he rasped. His hands still on her
hips, he set her away from him. It would be so easy to fall into bed with her,
he realised. He caught her hands as she tried to pull him closer again, opening
his eyes to stare at her grimly, "I don't want one night, Miss Parker, or one
week. I don't want casual sex because we have chemistry. I don't want the
reasons to start with 'Because we could'."
"Jarod..." she said, and he shook his head.
"No! Dammit, I want a lifetime with you, not one night! I want more than just
another experience, another bump in the road. I want everything. I'm falling
in-" Jarod bit off the last sentence painfully. He could not say those words,
knowing she could not return them. Knowing that her advances on him tonight
were based on lust, not love. "I can't. I think you had better go," he
whispered.
Miss Parker backed away slowly, her eyes wide and sad. She nodded,
dropping her eyes as she turned and left the room. She closed the door behind
her, leaving Jarod in darkness. He lay down on his bed, feeling lonely. He
closed his eyes, sorting through memories in his head. Miss Parker as a little
girl, so trembly and tearful after her mother's death. There were several
extremely hazy memories of her soft voice and comforting hands, assuring him
that everything would be all right during the Specifics attack. The scent of
her perfume in Room 4.
He had a hundred different memories that he had gathered once he escaped -
her disgruntled phone manner, her penchant for short skirts and high heels. The
way she had looked, wet and rumpled in the Florida Keys, the scent of rain
clinging to her. And he had fantasised about he reading the novel he had
written for her for months, fantasised her reading it and thinking of him.
There were several memories he could do without - Parker getting blind
drunk after Tommy's death. Seeing her shot at Donoterase. He could never wish
her any pain or harm, and while he had been a little jealous of Thomas Gates, he
had been glad that she had found happiness.
And then there was the fiasco at Laredii Island. Seeing her in the
compound, coming to his rescue, had delighted him. Over those days, they had
developed a forced intimacy, culminated by an abrupt kiss on a tin skip in the
middle of an empty ocean. Their relationship had had a long, troubled history,
but as Jarod had come closer and closer to her over the years, he had felt an
emotion growing in him that he could no longer suppress.
****
"This is Sydney," Sydney murmured. He sat up in bed, turning on a lamp. The
silence dragged on, marked only by the very faint sounds of someone breathing on
the other end. Sydney smiled, "Jarod. It is good to hear from you."
"Hello Sydney," Jarod acknowledged finally, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, of course. Broots and I got away fairly easily, the Centre's attentions
have been diverted. How are you and Miss Parker?"
Standing in front of his motel room, looking up at the stars, Jarod
grimaced. He wandered toward a picnic table on a patch of grass a little way
away from the block of rooms, not wanting Miss Parker to overhear the
conversation. "We're okay. We've been travelling together," he said.
"What on earth is going on, Jarod? Broots mentioned something about clones, do
you know anything about it?" Syd asked. Jarod smiled wryly.
"It's a bit much to go into right now, Sydney, I'll explain everything another
time. For the moment, Miss Parker and I are fine."
Jarod almost choked on the last word, and swallowed heavily a few times to
try and compose himself. There was a long, heavy silence, before Sydney asked
gently, "Is there something wrong, Jarod?"
"I think... I think I'm falling in love with her," he whispered, a few hot tears
rolling down his cheeks, "I think I'm falling for the one person I can never
truly have."
Sydney sighed heavily. "Does she know how you feel about her?"
"Yeah," Jarod said, chuckling without humour, "I think I made that pretty clear
tonight. She offered herself. For one night. But it wasn't enough for me."
"That's understandable, Jarod. When emotions are involved, sex and lust can
quite often come a far second."
"So if she offered me only sex and lust, I guess that means emotions aren't
involved for her," Jarod said bitterly.
"Not necessarily," Sydney said, and paused to gather his thoughts, "Miss Parker
has many defence mechanisms that have become integral to her personality. She
hides her fear and uncertainty by creating an aura of strength and violence.
Beneath her hard, angry exterior, we both know she is capable of great love and
compassion. It could be that she is using her baser feelings, such as sexual
desire, to mask what she really feels - something much more tender. She has
been hurt many times, Jarod. Perhaps she is afraid to fall in love."
Jarod nodded slowly, knowing that it made sense. He just needed time,
with Miss Parker; time to draw out what she was really feeling. "Thankyou
Sydney," he said, and ended the call.
****
Miss Parker could feel the sweat trickling down her back. She pushed up
the sleeve of her tight-fitting leather jacket, checking her watch. It was
almost ten minutes past noon - the car containing Dante was due any moment now.
She was crouched on the slope that fell away from the road, her gun at the
ready. A large outcrop of rocks was on the other side of the road, about twenty
feet further on, and she clutched the remote she held even tighter, praying that
everything would go to plan. Checking her watch again, she pulled her helmet
over her head, its visor hiding her face. She wore black boots, black leather
pants, her black leather jacket and black leather gloves. It was a tight,
streamlined outfit. She knew Jarod would be wearing the same.
She shifted again, uncomfortable in the hot afternoon sun. She felt
strangely relieved when she saw a black town car coming towards her, hating the
sense of waiting. Her finger hovering over the trigger on the remote, Parker
watched the car. Went it was around fifty feet away, she hit the trigger.
There was a muffled explosion, and the rocks on the other side of the road began
to slide towards the asphalt. Miss Parker ducked as dust and stones flew in her
direction.
The town car braked suddenly, screeching to a halt in front of the
landslide. Peeking up from her hiding place, Parker watched as the dust
settled, hearing the roar of a motorbike starting suddenly, and further up the
road, Jarod came into view on their Harley, racing at a breakneck speed towards
the town car. Two suited figures leapt out of the car immediately, raising
weapons.
In an instant, Miss Parker stood, taking aim and shooting one of them with
a tranquilliser dart. He wavered on his feet, sinking to the ground as Miss
Parker reloaded, her hands trembling. Jarod skidded the bike to a halt, looking
forbidding and impressive in his dark clothing. She raised the dart gun again,
shooting a second one into the other sweeper just as he pulled the trigger,
causing his shot to go wild as he dropped.
Jarod jumped off the bike, and she ran towards him, yanking her 9mm out of
her belt as she went. Jarod jerked open one of the doors on the far side of the
car, and she could hear him yelling for the people inside to get out of the car.
She ran up just as the front passenger door closest to her opened, and slammed
the butt of her gun onto a sweeper's head just as he emerged from the car,
knocking him unconscious.
On the other side of the car, Parker could see two more people emerging
from the car - Lyle and her father. Lyle was holding Dante, who was crying
fiercely. Glancing into the car to make sure nobody else was inside, she
circled around the car, her gun braced in front of her. Lyle watched her as she
came to stand beside Jarod, his eyes lingering on her slim figure.
"So is it September?" I don't think so, my September was never this brave.
Perhaps you're the other one. What Month are you?" he sneered.
Jarod yanked off his helmet, his anger written all over his face. He
glanced at Parker, and she nodded slightly. "Give me the child," he growled
dangerously. Lyle smiled maliciously.
"Catch!" he said.
In a blur of motion, Lyle thrust Dante away from him suddenly, throwing
him into the air, causing the little boy to scream in fright. Shocked, Jarod
dropped his gun, reaching out to grab Dante just seconds before he would have
hit the ground. Lyle snatched up his gun, holding it to Jarod's head as he held
the tiny child close to his chest. Miss Parker stepped forward, holding her gun
on Lyle.
"Drop your weapon!" she yelled. Her father's eyes went wide.
"Angel, is that you?" Mr Parker asked.
Miss Parker yanked off her helmet, her long hair spilling around her
shoulders. Her father gaped, and Lyle smirked. "I knew it!" he crowed, "You've
probably been screwing Jarod all along, haven't you, dear *sister*? Or perhaps
I should call you Mom? But then again, you're just a cheap imitation, aren't
you?"
Miss Parker clenched her jaw, her finger sliding over the trigger. Her
father stepped forward slightly, and she glanced nervously at him before
focusing her attention back on Lyle. Jarod was trying to step away from the
gun, holding Dante tightly. "Angel! I demand an explanation!" her father
thundered, and she could have laughed.
"Shouldn't I be the one who deserves and explanation?" she asked, a hint of
hysteria in her voice, "Let's start with the fact that I'm a clone. Or, maybe
you should tell me why you cloned Mama in the first place. I seriously doubt it
was because you loved her so much you wanted to see more of her!"
"Angel, enough. This has just been one big mix up. We have Jarod, let's take
him home," Mr Parker said soothingly, "We can just forget about this whole clone
business. Once Jarod is back in the Centre, you've fulfilled your end of the
deal. You can be free, Angel, nobody will ever chase you..."
Parker shifted her gaze to him nervously. "I don't believe you," she
whispered brokenly.
"It's all okay," her father said, "Just put the gun down, and everything will be
alright. You never have to think about any of this again. You're my daughter,
and I love you."
Miss Parker's grip on her gun wavered. She wanted, more than anything, to
believe him. She flickered a glance at Jarod, who gazed at her beseechingly.
It would be so easy, she realised, to give in. To see Jarod and Dante returned
to the Centre, to walk away and forget it all. All she had to do was lower her
gun.
Instead, she shot Lyle in the chest.
"Angel!" her father cried out, aghast.
Lyle dropped his gun, his face going ashen. He looked down, his mouth
opening soundlessly, pushing his suit jacket out of the way to reveal a slowly
spreading red blister on his chest. He coughed, a deep, wet sound, touching his
fingers to his chest and pulling them away to look at the blood, shiny and
slick. His whole body shuddered, and he dropped heavily to his knees, looking
up at Miss Parker, his eyes wide with shock.
"My name is January," Miss Parker said softly, turning to aim her gun at her
father, "I am a clone, and I am exactly what you have made me."
"Miss Parker," Jarod said, as though from very far away, but she ignored him,
stepping closer to her father instead. He raised his hands in surrender.
"Now, sweetheart, I loved your mother, I only wanted her to have the child she
longed for so desperately..." he said nervously, backing up as she advanced on
him.
"Are you proud... *Daddy*?" Parker asked bitterly, "Are you proud of me? I
would have done anything for you. Anything just to know you loved me. But you
just couldn't love a daughter who was no daughter at all, could you? I'm a
creation of your own sick and dirty work, and you'll never see anything but
Frankenstein's monster in me, will you?"
"Miss Parker, stop!" Jarod called, but she ignored him.
"Every time I looked at you, I only saw your mother," Mr Parker said quietly,
"It became easier not to look at you at all."
"Get on your knees," she said quietly. Her father stared at her, looking
genuinely afraid, and hesitated. She yelled, "Get on your knees!"
Gingerly, her father knelt, closing his eyes as she stood over him,
pressing the muzzle of her gun between his eyes. His breath was short and fast,
and he trembled slightly. In that moment, Miss Parker could remember every
birthday he had forgotten, every missed dinner and phone call cut-short. She
could remember every time he had broken her heart, and all because he couldn't
stand her for what she was. No wonder he had told her never to use her real
name - not because he wanted to protect her, but because he didn't want to
acknowledge her.
Her finger tightened over the trigger.
"Miss Parker, you're better than this, you're better than him. You can walk
away," she heard Jarod say behind her, very quietly.
Letting out a muffled sob, she raised the butt of her gun, slamming it
down onto her father's head. He collapsed forwards, unconscious, and she turned
around, holding the gun out and away from her, letting it dangle from one finger
by the trigger-guard. Looking grim, Jarod took it from her, putting the safety
back on and putting it in his pocket. Dante, looking red-faced and scared in
Jarod's arms, craned around to look at her.
"Sis-sis!" he cried, reaching for her. Miss Parker scooped him into her arms
gratefully, holding him close. He snuggled against her, still crying softly.
"Do you here that?" Jarod asked.
Miss Parker tilted her head - in the distance she could hear the blades of
a chopper, coming closer. One of the sweepers had probably alerted the Centre
before being knocked out. She held out her hand, which Jarod took.
"Let's go."
****
Jarod drove them to the large central train station in Dover. He took
back roads and detours, aware that it was very likely that Centre goons were hot
on their trail. They didn't speak as they went inside, Jarod pushing through
the crowds, Miss Parker following with Dante, who was asleep in her arms. Close
to the ticketing counter, they stopped.
"I thought we could get a train to NYC, and decide where to go from there,"
Jarod said, scanning the departure times on a large overhead monitor. Miss
Parker said something that he couldn't hear, and distracted, Jarod leaned
forward. "What?" he said loudly.
"I'm not going with you!" she yelled.
Jarod gaped at her. He hadn't expected their split to be so soon, he
wasn't prepared. He didn't want to say goodbye to her and Dante yet. "But..."
he protested, "Miss Parker, you can't go on the run with a baby by yourself, you
don't know how to avoid the Centre well enough yet!"
"I know!" she shouted back. She pushed Dante into his arms, and Jarod took the
baby, feeling a coldness start in his heart, spreading outwards. Miss Parker
shook her head, "You're taking the baby, Jarod. They'll be looking for me and
him, they won't expect you to take him."
"No!" Jarod said frantically. Through the crowds, he thought he spotted a dark
suit.
"I'm not a mother, Jarod! You can raise him with the love he deserves. You'll
be a good father to him!" Miss Parker called. Already, she was moving away from
him.
"No!" Jarod called, following, pushing past people to get to her. He caught her
arm, dragged her close, trying to balance the baby, hold onto her and keep an
eye out for sweepers all at once, "You can't leave me! Parker, I need you!"
Miss Parker mouthed some words he didn't hear, an announcement drowning
her out. Jarod clutched at her arm, but his grip on Dante was slipping, and he
had to awkwardly shuffle the child from one arm to the other. He pulled Parker
close again. "I think I'm in love with you!" he said desperately.
She wiped the tears from his cheeks, passed her palm tenderly over Dante's
soft curls, and slipped away from him again. Jarod's chest heaved, and he went
to move after her again, blocked by a mother and a small child. He strained to
see her over the crowds. "When will I see you again?" he yelled. He thought
Miss Parker might have blown him a kiss over her shoulder, but then she was
gone, disappearing into the snarl of people.
Forlorn, Jarod stood by himself, cradling Dante against his chest. He was
aware that sweepers were coming in his direction, although they had not spotted
him yet. He would have to go, and soon - there was no chance of trailing her,
it was too dangerous. He had Dante would have to run. He and Dante, he
realised, only had each other now. He didn't know when, or if, he would see
Miss Parker again.
But somehow, Jarod knew, fate had brought them this far, and would bring
them together again.
Dante raised his head sleepily, blinking up at Jarod with soulful brown
eyes. Jarod adjusted the child on his hip, the weight of responsibility
crashing down on him. He was now sole parent and guardian to this tiny little
boy, who had no understanding of the danger his very existence put him in.
"Hi Dante," said Jarod.
"He'lo," Dante said, smiling shyly.
"My name is Jarod," he said, filled with irony, "I'll be taking care of you for
awhile."
The End.
Author's notes: This is it, folks, my longest Pretender story ever at just over
29,000 words. If you liked this story, please drop me a line to let me know.
Another story in the Genesis Series will follow this one, although I don't know
if it will be as long.