Chapter 7:
Disclaimers and warnings, see Chapter 1. Thanks for the feedback/encouragement – enjoy!
The Centre, 1982
Kyle. Scrawny, scrappy, tiresome boy. Very self-important and fond of exclaiming:
"I decide who lives or dies."
Bobby rolled his eyes. Yeah yeah yeah. You decide who lives or dies. I've decided you suck. There was still quite a bit of bad blood between the two boys, especially after last time. Having two budding adolescent sociopaths tactically re-enact the Cuban Missile Crisis turned out not to be exactly conducive to the interests of political science, as it were – it had taken four grown guards to break up the ensuing fist fight. Bobby kept his silence, not looking at Kyle, watching Raines closely. Raines had smiled that awful, because unnatural, smile at Kyle after his remark. Ugh. Don't encourage him.
The two boys stood on the floor of the SIM lab, which was darker than usual. The only light was coming from below and behind where Raines stood, effectively making him more ghoulish-looking than ever.
"Well, boys," said Raines in an offensively conversational tone of voice, "our next project is about to begin. The SIM will not actually begin tonight, but I would like to take this opportunity to explain what we will be doing for the next few months." Raines snapped his fingers imperiously. A door whooshed open on the upper level, and out stepped Emma, slightly off-balance as she was apparently shoved out by a guard, more than a little frightened. Raines beckoned her, and she walked slowly down the stairs, never taking her eyes off him. As she reached him, Raines returned his attention to Kyle and Bobby.
"There is to be a competition. From now on, the two of you will be pitted against one another in everything you do. You will work side by side each day. Your progress will be evaluated by myself, as well as other by doctors here at the Centre. You will work harder than you have ever worked before. But there will be a reward." Raines smiled again. Bobby felt his stomach contents shift unpleasantly. He was almost positive he knew what was coming, and he did not like it one bit.
"Only one of you will receive this reward." Bobby watched in private horror as Raines yanked Emma's loose, shapeless dress off. Shit.
Kyle did not look surprised. Kyle looked as though he hadn't eaten in months and had just seen a rare steak.
Bobby swallowed hard. He had killed before. It had been all too easy. He was learning not to be particular about these things. But this…well, Bobby was not a rapist. A murderer maybe, admittedly, but not a rapist. If anything, he rationalized to himself, it's a blow to my self-esteem. Forcing yourself on someone who doesn't want you.
And she very clearly did not want him, either of them. She was shivering, all pretense of appraisal or calculation gone; she was looking from Kyle to Bobby
to Raines with sheer horror, trying desperately to cover herself. She tried to rip her dress back from Raines, tugging mightily, but she was rewarded with a slap across the face which sent her spinning to the floor. Kyle bristled, excited, baring his teeth in a horrible grin.
"When does the competition begin, Dr. Raines?" asked Kyle, not taking his eyes off Emma.
"Your first exercise will begin tomorrow morning," said Raines, utterly ignoring Emma, who had curled herself up in the smallest ball possible.
Bobby looked at them both. This was sick, even for the Centre. He had not yet spoken. He did not quite know what to say. His mind stopped working and his mouth took over.
"So, let me get this straight," Bobby began, his eyes on Raines, "you want me match wits with this psychopath for something I don't even want? There might be a flaw in your hypothesis there, doctor." He could see Raines begin to stir, angry at Bobby's disrespect.
"Kyle a psychopath? I'm reminded of a saying about people in glass houses, Bobby." Raines was smug, hoping for a reaction from Bobby. Bobby gave him no such satisfaction.
"You don't want her? I find that hard to believe," Raines said in a low, dangerous voice.
"Hey, it's okay, I know you're not smart like Kyle and me, you want me to draw you a flow chart?" Bobby asked innocently, slowly, as if he were talking to a small child. Raines' ears were turning red. He was really pissed now. He was going to get the shit kicked out of him. Oddly, he didn't care. He was aware that Emma and Kyle were both staring at him, open mouthed. Bobby could only glower back at Raines, grinning, gladiatorial. We who are about to die salute you.
"That won't be necessary," Raines snarled. He snapped his fingers and guards seemed to materialize out of the darkness, advancing on Bobby.
"What are you gonna do, put me in solitary and only let me talk to you? Oh, wait, that's my life," Bobby exclaimed sarcastically.
The guards drew their truncheons. Ah, fuck. He started to run, and would have gotten a bit farther than he did, had Kyle not lunged out and tackled him. Fucking suck up hypocrite. He hates Raines too. I'll get him for that one.
As the guards descended on him, he could hear Raines' voice – it was the last thing he remembered hearing before they beat him unconscious.
"Well done, Kyle. The competition will continue, and you have just advanced yourself toward your goal. But first, I think Bobby here must be taught a lesson."
Bobby was aware of a low, animal sound, a whimper – Emma was crying. He was not sure why this affected him so, but it did. It was as if Emma was doing something for him that he could no longer do, expressing something he could no longer express, and he was singularly grateful, and sorry for her before the blackness took him.