CHAPTER EIGHT
March 15 -16, 2001
During the trip, Miss Parker kept Jarod handcuffed besides her while she drove the car. She also had manacles on his feet fastened through the floor and to make doubly sure, the handcuffs on each wrist were fastened to a chain that went under the car so if Jarod tried to leap out, he would be torn apart. However, she knew he would not try anything.
Jarod had asked her if he could stop off at a gas station or at a YMCA, but she refused.
"Why?"
"I need a shower."
"No way Jarod and have you escape out through the washroom window? By the way, how did you manage it the other times?"
"The usual. I paid money for an apartment and used the facilities or asked someone if I could borrow his. Only just recently, I can't get in one and that dive I was in reminds of when I first escaped. Now I can't even use a Centre driver's license: seems I'm getting mistaken for this pervert."
She looked at the certificate and the attached legal document. It was out of character for the Centre, but then again she knew the Centre was capable of anything. A thought was brewing in her mind that perhaps Daddy had made it for just some reason, make her believe that he was giving Jarod to her as a gift, when he had no intention to. Of course, he would make it legal and above board in Blue Cove, at least.
To make doubly sure Jarod did not escape, she had Sam sit on the passenger side. The sweeper kept silent except for an occasional remark that "whatever Raines and Lyle decide, I will back you up." So far, Miss Parker had not killed Jarod so she was probably going to turn him over to Mr. Lyle. Perhaps she would torture the Pretender —not that she had done it already. Any way she had laid down the law.
"Sam," she had said with a gag of disgust, "Raines and my brother wanted me to have carnal knowledge of the Pretender against his will. That will ensure that Jarod goes back to the Sim lab, because he will be afraid of me. Of course, that hasn't happened. The little so and so keeps looking at me with a puppy dog expression."
"Well you know what he is, Miss Parker. It's okay with me."
Sam sat as far away from Jarod as possible. Lyle had told Jarod he smelled at the Centre, and Sam guessed it was understandable. Showers and baths were rare in Lairs that usually consisted of an abandoned or half-constructed house with no electricity. The last apartment the Pretender had been was a pay by the month type. His room only had a washbasin, a bed, and you could not cook in your rooms. It was cheap and you had to pay for the electricity. Sam had found several lithium batteries used to power the laptop he would return to the Centre, a Gillette razor and several blades plus a can of no name aftershave. Sam wondered what Jarod did when he was pretending to be a University professor probably he used the staff washroom to clean up. He also had not cut his hair since the Island but at least he shaved. Sam hoped that Miss Parker would keep Jarod. She could ensure that he took a daily shower.
Miss Parker took something out of her glove compartment, saying, "Now that I caught him, Raines and Lyle'll have to say this is a lie."
Sam shook his head. "I wouldn't. Not if he escapes again."
"Sam, Jarod is no pervert, no child abuser. I don't want someone to come into the Centre and shoot him because that walking corpse and my brother put those fliers out saying he wss one! If they don't take it back, I'll get Miss Burke to do it. I'm sure if the FBI finds out that the Centre issued a false report, there'd be trouble."
Unfortunately, Mr. Raines and Lyle had also laid down the law and Sam was more afraid of them than of Miss Parker. If he even mentioned that the posters on Jarod were a falsehood, he would die. He was to bring the Pretender in, a thought he dreaded for he saw what they had prepared. They had reinforced the beams that ran overhead, put fresh grates on the ventilation system, and obtained some rather unusual steel alloy to make into chains and handcuffs. There were also some very evil looking implements, the type similar to what Sam recalled from a tour in the Holocaust Museum.
"Sam," Mr. Raines had said, "I assume you are going to drive Miss Parker to Jarod's lair."
"Lair?"
"I would compare Jarod to an animal, we all know that animals need to be caged, don't we?"
"I saw him in the shower when I guarded him."
"Jarod did escape from the shower once and that's why we had to hose him down. Now Sam, he might try something, try to persuade you, but in no circumstances are you to listen to him, only my daughter's words." He took out a small transmitter. "These are easily placed in certain locations for instance, in the cigarette lighter of the car and since Miss Parker no longer smokes…" He gave Sam a triumphant look. His message had got through.
Sam was in a predicament. He gave everyone the impression that he was a nice guy, and in his heart, he figured that Miss Parker would be better at controlling Jarod than Sydney who he considered too weak. He had seen what Damon and Alexander had turned out, thanks to the Triumvirate's training methods of constant beatings, ordering them to kill by holding them by a chain and giving them a gun or a knife. The chain went around their neck. If they did not obey, a swift pull and it was all over. Miss Parker would be somewhere in between.
The man besides him did not have a hangdog defeated look on him, nor did he look as if he would try to escape. In fact, Jarod acted normal, trying to scratching his legs and finding it difficult to do thanks to the shackles and chains.
"Miss Parker, what are you going to Jarod?" he asked.
"Keep him and don't worry, Sam, I'll make sure my cannibalistic brother and that ghoul don't get their grubby little claws on Jarod. I'll leave that favor to me," said Miss Parker with a murderous look at the Pretender.
"Oh I'm sure you'll think of something diabolical." Jarod was squirming in his seat.
"Uncomfortable? Good."
"Excuse me Miss Parker," said Sam who was probably thinking of not wanting to do a major clean up job in the car, "have to go."
Miss Parker nodded and threw her sweeper the keys. "Oh take Jarod with you. You can use that as a rest stop," she said, indicating a tree.
"Come on," he said unfastening the locks.
Five minutes later, the two men returned and she and Sam switched places. "He didn't try to escape," said the sweeper and silently pinched himself on the back of his arm. No, he was not dreaming. With a sigh of relief, he settled down to driving.
Miss Parker glared at her captive with utter contempt. To say she was angry was an understatement. "Why do you let me do this?" she asked.
"I have no idea, a natural meanness, I suppose."
"You could have avoided all this."
"Apart from being put in that little cell and made to do simulations for, I figured, fifteen hours a day which the Centre would use to kill thousands of people, like on that airplane crash ten years ago, what choice had I?"
She waved the certificate in front of his face. "I got this."
"And are you sure that had you brought me in before, that Raines and Lyle would give me to you? Remember when they told you, that if you brought me in, you could leave The Centre and I told you they wouldn't?"
Miss Parker glared at him for a second and then calmed down. She knew he was right so all the dirty words she thought of calling him died in her. On top of chasing Jarod was the remembrance of that last conversation after he escaped from the Island, remarking that the curse had to be about him running and she chasing. I mean, her own great grandfather had killed his first family, Raines treated people (if you could call a Pretender, a person) as guinea pigs. Her own brother was a cannibal and psychopath. Was the curse what Jarod thought it was or was it something more sinister?
Her mind went back to her past, comparing when she and Jarod were children and later through the teenaged years when Jarod disappeared, or rather placed on lower sublevels. She also recalled her visits to the Renewal Wing and the rests she had after doing the usual physical exercises and therapy, a part of every Centre staff or employee regimen. The Centre vaccinated her against every disease because, as the doctor said, "We have visitors from every part of the globe and your father doesn't want you to come down with something," but she remembered also the low monotonous voice of the doctor. Miss Parker had no idea what went on there other than feeling rested afterwards. All she knew was that after she turned her thirteenth birthday, she gradually started to hate Jarod. He did not do anything wrong, it was just that her personality became cold towards him and she regarded Jarod not as a person but as a thing, property, a valuable possession of the Centre. .
"He could get out for a walk," said Sydney, signaling her to stop from his car about a mile down the road. .
"And have him escape?" asked Miss Parker until she saw the familiar place with the Golden Arches. "Oh." She parked the car and went over to the other cars, all the time, thinking, Walk, yes Sydney. You could hint that you're hungry. "What does everyone want? Broots?"
"A cheeseburger for me, a large order of fries and onion rings, apple pie, and a large package of Doritos. Oh and I'd also like…."
"You can buy the Doritos on your own time, Broots."
"Just a chicken salad," said Sydney, handing Miss Parker a twenty-dollar bill.
"A Big Mac," called out Jarod, "with everything plus ice-cream, please?"
Rachel had just parked her car and come over accompanied by her foster children and her own. She tried talking to Sam, but he was not one much on conversation.
"How long have you worked for Miss Parker?"
"Since nineteen sixty four."
"Since she was born?"
"No."
"So when she was a little girl."
"Yes."
By the time, she got Sam's history including that there was no synagogue in Blue Cove, everyone had put the refuge in the trash, and she had hardly touched hers. Perhaps if she opened up, maybe he would not be so reticent. "I don't know about Frederick and his sister, but I intend for little Naomi to be brought up Jewish, so when we moved to Hartford, Connecticut, I found this apartment about a block away. There's a Hebrew school and as soon as Naomi's old enough, I intend for her to have lessons. I'll raise the other children as Roman Catholic. I have two friends who would help. Oh and Sam, I can have a talk to my rabbi. He knows quite a few state officials."
"Thank you."
"So what do you think about Jarod being with Miss Parker?"
"Umm" He took another chunk out of his burger.
Rachel left the" brilliant conversationalist" and went to see about her children who were very disappointed that she threw the leftovers into the trash instead of giving it to them.
Meanwhile Miss Parker and Jarod had finished eating. She was busy estimating the amount on her credit card since Frederick, Margaret, and Rachel's three had ordered doubles of everything. Those kids could get me bankrupt, she thought. . .
"You should have bought two," Jarod said after finishing his meal, downing the coke, and looking enviously at Broot's unfinished Doritos, well not exactly enviously, more like a panther eyeing a helpless little bird.
"You open your mouth one more time and I'll close it permanently."
"Yes Miss Parker, but when we get back to the Centre, I have no intention of doing the sims for Raines or Lyle. I'll sabotage them."
There was something in his eyes, past the haunted predatory look; a resolve that she had never seen before. This time, she knew he would not hesitate to die rather than assist the Centre. Miss Parker looked at her watch. If they drove the speed limit, they would get there just as the Centre started business around eight in the morning. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation with the Centre bigwigs and her position on the line.
"Sam, could you go a little faster? Take the shortcut. I want to surprise Lyle."
"But it will be early morning."
"I know," she said with a smile
They were going through New Jersey when Sam almost swerved into three youngsters and then. Suddenly, a man and a woman appeared just as the neighbors went to call the police.
It was as if from nowhere. They all looked at the couple and for a moment, froze, that is all except Jarod and the children. .
"I'd better talk to them," said Miss Parker.
"I'm not stopping."
"I said stop." She took out her purse. "If you don't want those two to tear you limb from limb Remember Sam, I'm still your boss. I don't want the Centre to be in a major lawsuit, understand?"
After giving the name of her insurance adjustor, Miss Parker softened the couple who glared at Sam with an intense hatred.
"The police will have to be involved," she said, "and you might have to pay a fine. It's your own fault." Jarod tapped her on the shoulder and whispered into her ear. She understood. "This sense is only if you are directly in danger and someone is thinking of you. Oh bugs? Jarod, don't be ridiculous."
"It's only a suggestion. I wouldn't be surprised if the Centre had hidden microphones all over Blue Cove and in its town cars."
"Very well, I often wondered why Raines and Lyle were on top the others times I almost got you." She turned to her sweeper. "Sam. I want you to take Jarod and check the car for bugs: everywhere. Then remove them."
"Yes Miss Parker."
At four o'clock in the morning, they arrived at the Centre. Miss Parker went in the front door with Jarod in manacles close behind her, Broots and Sydney followed with their guns drawn. Sam parked the cars while Rachel tried to get a hold of the five who ran ahead of her.
:Lyle was on the telephone when Miss Parker and Jarod came into his office.. "Tonight not a good thing, Lily? You said your mother was sick, and yesterday it was your brother's birthday. Are you mad about the vase? The dealer said it was an original, but I figured he was lying. Look I've got to put you on hold right now." He pressed the button. "Oh you have him," he said and a moment later, "Why is he smirking? Oh!" His smile had a hint of depravity. "Did he enjoy it or did you give him a chance?" He waited until Miss Parker unfastened Jarod's handcuffs.
"Enjoy what?" asked Jarod, his arm shooting around Miss Parker's waist and both of them looking like those Communist leaders who could not stand each other, but wanted to make a stand against a common enemy. "At least she's alive, not like your late wife."
"Shut up, Jarod," piped up Miss Parker as she put her left hand down his pants. "He's just trying to unnerve you and little brother, it seems to be working. Oh and I guess the part of me getting a big position in the Centre has come true." She handed him the certificate with her right hand while moving her left hand around to the front, still inside Jarod's pants and feeling his manhood.
"And the legal document? Thanks." He did not say anything, did not even smile or show any expression, but waited until Lyle put the Centre seal on both.
"The first thing I'm going to do is to take Jarod to my house. I could use the pantry for a cell. Of course, I'll need ventilation, light in it as well and I'll have to put the food down in the basement—and since I don't have to pay him for his services, my grocery bill will not be as high. I could always farm him out…" Miss Parker almost grinned.
"That wasn't the deal," said Lyle, his voice dangerously pleasant.
"Anyone who brings in Jarod can get anything they want. You said so. It said nothing of turning him over permanently to the Centre."
"What? We didn't mean that! We need him."
Miss Parker took out a folder and showed it to her brother. "See, this paragraph. Well I brought Jarod in, and you've seen him." She removed her hand and wiped it with a towelette she took out of her purse, made a flourish as if to show her most valuable possession, which indeed she did and afterwards, bent over and whispered in her brother's ear. "I could put a brick wall and fasten some chains and have the basement enlarged. That would save building a cell, not that I would need one."
"Do you know that without him the— who…" Suddenly Lyle's expression changed to terror as the Profiler with her toddlers, Frederick, and Margaret entered the room. "Who is she?" he demanded and looked with fear at the two older children. Frederick was advancing on him, like a stalker about to strike. "Get them away from me!"
"Something wrong with Uncle Lyle?'" mocked Frederick moving back, while Margaret sneered.
"Uncle Lyle?" asked Jarod noticing something about the older boy, the way his hair waved and the dark blue eyes. He estimated the ages of Frederick and Margaret, and tried to back track to where he was at the time of their conception, but then his head started to throb and he had to sit down.
"What's wrong?" asked Miss Parker who seemed concerned.
"It's to do with Frederick and Margaret: If I can see the records, I may know the reason why," said Rachel, "He should be clear in a while."
"Right. I'll have a long talk with Raines." She motioned Frederick and Margaret to come over. "Oh Uncle Lyle's sick. Just keep out of his way. He's not very nice to little girls or big ones for that matter." She spotted one of the staff escorting a young girl.
"I've just got a few things to clear up,' said Lyle, reducing the hold button. "Hello Lily. Lily?" She had hung up.
As Jarod, Miss Parker, and company headed towards Raines's office, they passed the guard with the girl who appeared to be eight or nine years old. She had dark brown wavy hair tied back with a ribbon, and wore a straight white dress that almost reached her ankles unlike the other female children of the Centre,
"Hello Miss Parker," said the guard, "this is one of our 'students.' She's rather stubborn: refuses to wear the Centre uniform." He held his right hand. It had a rather nasty bite and he limped slightly.
Miss Parker smiled and said, "I'm Miss Parker what is your name?"
The girl just stared and bowed her head slightly towards Frederick.
Miss Parker had seen this before on the rare occasion the Centre took her to see one of the other Pretenders, emphasizing that "Jarod would have done this much faster." Whenever a certain someone came in, that Pretender would bow or look down at the floor. She never thought how many beatings, starvations, or threats got him to that point.
"She's shy," said the guard, "Carla doesn't speak much English. We have to get her back to her lessons."
He and the girl walked off with Frederick and Margaret following.
"I'll keep them entertained."
You'll have to be very inventive to do that, thought Miss Parker as she knocked on her father's office. "Hi Raines."
"Giuseppe, find out who's been stealing from the cafeteria. Oh it's Miss Parker. I'll get back to you," he said, putting down the Intercom, "Oh, hello Miss Parker, I see by Jarod's expression that you and he are more than friends now."
Lyle came in with his wax cylinder, hiding his disappointment. No defeated looking Jarod and no victory for the Centre. "I hope you know you disappointed me, but after Thomas, I guess you needed someone for sexual relief." he said, "I didn't expect it to be him. You know, Broots has taken an interest in you and you do like Debbie."
Miss Parker almost gasped. So it wasn't an authorized simulation, she thought, and then saw Raines's expression. They must not let Jarod know. "Who's Giuseppe? Mafia?"
"Security and Records."
"I never heard of Security and Records."
"Mr Parker installed Security and Records to inform him of anything amiss. I found the information about him from our Dr. Cox."
She shook her head. She knew about the sublevels and that even with Jarod gone, the sims had still gone on. The idea of there being just one Pretender in the whole world seemed rather fanciful. If there were, The Centre would have ordered her to bring Jarod back alive or else. Since they had left the suggestion open as to his death, Miss Parker suspected that they had one or more in reserve. Those eight Pretenders were possibly a lure to test her mother's loyalty. "When did Daddy construct this Security and Records?"
"About thirty years ago when I wanted a place to meditate, Mr. Parker set aside part of the Centre on one of the lower levels. Unbeknownst to me, he built an office down there that has taken the name of Security and Records as did its present occupant. I believe he watches a certain television show."
She fiddled with her fingers as if reaching for an invisible cigarette. "I don't suppose it's Friends. Didn't think so. I want Jarod to check this CD," she said, showing it to her father. "It doesn't quite match up with the original. I have to go to the washroom. Too much coffee."
"Security found a woman's sandal in Raines's sanctuary and Martin brought it up to me," said Lyle.
"I was doing experiments," said Raines, "to further the Pretender gene."
"Was it just like you did to Timmy?" asked Miss Parker, "Did Cox have anything to do with this?"
"Cox is a fool. He now thinks the Pretender gene is connected to a group out in Southern California who came from Mexico."
She turned back to her brother. "So you never met this Security and Records."
"No. Why should I? I can't keep track of all the creatures that work here. He just watches the Inner Sanctum and reports to Dr. Cox. Now, if you can get someone on it to find the owner of this sandal, the Centre would be more than grateful."
"What indeed: A little hanky panky. Well I guess some women prefer cadavers. She's probably long gone. As for the other matter, you do want every little detail, don't you, Lyle?" She turned to see Rachel standing at the door. "Miss Burke, this is my father, Mr. Raines." With that, she left, leaving Rachel to deal with the new boss of the Centre. .
Miss Parker could not prevent the guards from roughing up Jarod as they led him to the room.
One stood watch at the door, and another came in, aiming his gun at Jarod who worked at the desk, copying the cd and saying, "You're right. This is a mess. Looks like it'll take a while to restore the data." The guard moved closer.
An hour later, Jarod came down the hall, alone.
Rachel, meanwhile, listened to Mr. Raines telling of all the benefits the Centre brought to mankind. "Science to benefit humanity: I'm sorry you had to run into Frederick and Margaret. They are rather uncontrollable."
"I heard something about several killings, patricide. We're privy to a lot of information."
They talked at length about the science of criminal investigation. Rachel told him that she had no special ability, nothing in the psychic field, but she could put things together. She told how as a child, she pretended solving crimes with her brothers and how often her parents had to go to the police station to pick her up.
The Centre staff spent a couple of hours cleaning off certain grafitti after Jarod, Parker, Sydney, Broots, Rachel and the children left.
"Be sure that it is all spotless!" ordered Raines.
"Yes sir. Who could have written such a thing?"
"'You will all die!' and 'We will rule in the kingdom of man!' It isn't one of us. What about that psycho we have locked in Cell 420?"
"He's been sedated, sir," said one of the Centre doctors, "and a guard is on him night and day. Oh we found the ones who were watching Jarod." He motioned his hands as if someone snapped a branch, "dead."