Evanescence - Haunted
Taylor tapped her key against the lock and stepped into the heat of her hotel room, still shivering. Even after changing out of the android outfit and into her clothes, the snow seemed to be clinging to more than just the fabric of her coat, down to her very bones.
The silence of the room enveloped her like a crypt. An automatic light flickered on as she stepped toward the bedroom, and the light stream followed like spotlights as she went straight for the cellphone left sitting on hotel pillow, off.
Her finger hovered over the power button. She stared at her reflection in the blackened screen, knowing that she needed to move with urgency now. Twenty-four hours without the device in her hand had felt strange, but now she almost didn't want it back.
Sighing, she powered the cellphone on. It came to life instantly in her palm, vibrating, an angry wasp, notification after notification lighting the screen. She groaned at the number of missed calls and texts that she had.
Ignoring all of them, Taylor unlocked the phone and opened her contacts, dialing her best friend. The phone rang twice before the line clicked on. "Taylor?"
"Hey," she didn't miss the frantic tone in her best friend's voice, so she held the phone away from her ear a couple of inches and braced for impact.
"Where the hell are you?" Rachel didn't yell. Taylor had to press the phone back to her ear to hear her properly. Her voice seemed to get lower with every word as she continued, "Did you listen to anything I told you the last time I saw you?"
"Rachel, I'm—"
"Don't." Rachel snapped on the other end of the line. "Don't you dare say that you're sorry. You're not sorry. You knew exactly what you were doing. You're reckless. You don't care about hurting me, or Alex, or Jake, or anyone else who gives a shit about you."
"I'm in my hotel room." Taylor spoke quietly into the phone, listening to Rachel huffing on the other side of the line. "I left because I had to help Markus, the leader of the android revolution. He came to me a couple of days after I got to Detroit and I've been helping him ever since. I was worried if I kept working with CyberLife and the police that I might jeopardize everything. That's why I disappeared."
Rachel didn't say anything. Taylor started tugging on a loose thread on the lapel of her coat, twisting it around her finger. "You were right, before, about L.A. too. I just can't give you any details. I'm not trying to keep you guys out, but this is really important to me."
"So important that you couldn't say anything. I don't want to know how much danger you've put yourself in. I thought the biggest thing I had to worry about was Anthony Jacobsen." Rachel sighed. "You roped me into this, you know. I helped you get access to the tower not knowing I was really helping the deviant leader broadcast that message. If anyone finds out about that, I might never find work as a journalist again."
"You've done worse for stories," Taylor said defensively.
"By choice! My own choice!" Rachel screamed, making her wince. The guilt started to claw its way through her chest, rising in her throat, tears stinging at her eyes. "Who knows, maybe I would have agreed to this if you'd just told me the truth. We'll never know now."
"I know." She exhaled through her nose, nostrils flaring. It wasn't fair for her to cry, not now. "I'm a shitty friend. I know."
"So what do you want from me now, Taylor?" Taylor's fingers tightened around the phone. Nothing, she wanted to say. How could she ask for anything more? She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered she wasn't doing this for herself.
She thought of Markus, and Connor, and all of the androids that had died when Jericho went down. Maybe nothing she did mattered. Maybe this wouldn't either. Maybe everyone was right when they said she was just a stupid celebrity in front of a camera. But she couldn't give up now.
"Remember that exclusive I promised you...?" And she explained everything about Markus, about Jericho, about what had happened that night and what was about to happen. Rachel stayed silent the whole time, and for several minutes after while the story sank in.
"I think I'm more upset than I was a few minutes ago. You really do have a death wish." Rachel said quietly. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
"I want coverage, Rachel."
"Coverage?" She responded in disbelief. "Taylor—"
"I just need you on standby. I want you to call everyone you know, every network, anyone you can convince. I want everyone to be watching." Rachel was quiet again, for a beat.
"What do you think is going to happen?" Taylor went quiet for a moment this time.
"I'm not sure yet. But whatever happens needs to be heard."
Taylor was rubbing a towel through her freshly washed hair, reveling in how wonderful a shower was after sleeping in a rusted-out freighter and then an abandoned church. The steam was still curling out of the bathroom as she settled onto the bed and picked her phone up again. She was still sorting through her messages from her brief respite.
Some of them were from Jake, increasing in their frantic tone as Alex had continued to call and check to see if she'd shown up at his house. She had texted her brother before stepping into the shower to let him know she was fine.
The bulk of the rest were missed calls and texts from Alex. They shifted in tone from annoyance, to anger, to forgiveness, back to anger, to desperation. She had also texted him to let him know she was okay, that everything was fine, and to beg him not to call. She knew that was probably a lost cause, but as she scrolled through her phone now, she saw that he hadn't responded.
Before she could consider this for long, Taylor heard what sounded like a rattling at the door. Placing the towel on the bed, she pulled the camisole over her head that had been resting beside her, next to a teal sweater. Hesitating, she picked up her phone again as she headed out of the bedroom, wondering if perhaps someone from the cleaning staff was here.
Moving back into the open living area of the suite, she realized the automatic lights were already on. The door to the room was just closing again, clicking softly, as the person who had just entered turned around to face her.
Taylor almost dropped the phone, felt it sliding through her fingers and had to scramble to regain her grip so that it didn't clatter into the carpet. All of the air squeezed out of her lungs and she felt like she was reliving the moment at the Eden Club, when she'd been knocked into the concrete and had the wind forcibly knocked out of her.
Anthony Jacobsen spotted her and smiled. The lines around his eyes crinkled pleasantly, she could see the gray that was starting to work its way through his thick brown hair. She couldn't recall a time, even as a child, she'd ever seen him walking around without a suit on. He was wearing one now, tailored and black with an offsetting green tie that matched his eyes.
"Taylor." Her first thought was to reach for her gun. After all, she had bought it, learned to shoot it, thought in some small part of her brain that if she was ever standing here like this that she could shoot him. But she had lost the gun when Connor had grabbed her and jumped from Jericho, and it was somewhere underwater in the wreckage.
"H-How—" She couldn't force out the whole question. Her mind was still spinning, a veritable top inside her skull. Never again. She had promised herself she would never be alone with this man again.
"I own this hotel." He said, still smiling, though it was morphing into something monstrous and feral in her eyes. He shrugged, nonchalant. "I simply told them that my stepdaughter was staying in this room and that I would love to surprise her with a visit."
"I'm not your stepdaughter." She gritted her teeth, trying to breathe, to take deeper breaths, but it was like there was a steel band around her chest, tightening. He feigned a look of surprise as he took a step closer to her. She wanted to step back, away, or to run forward and around him out of the room. Anywhere but here, but none of her muscles would move, frozen in panic.
"Hm. Well, here I am, nonetheless. We didn't get to finish our conversation the other night. You left quite abruptly." He stepped closer again, closing the distance between them. Taylor raised her phone like it was a barrier, but still couldn't make her legs move. "You were such a polite girl once."
"What do you want?" She flexed her fingers. She could call the cops, maybe. Her hands were shaking, and she absently wondered if it wasn't all of her, shivering like a leaf in a storm while he smiled down at her.
The phone, blessedly, was already unlocked, but as she tried to touch the phone icon, her trembling knuckle hit on a social media app instead. She couldn't look down, she kept her blue eyes on his face, but she had another idea. And as he opened his mouth to answer her, her knuckle tapped against the key to go live.
"We need to talk about you, running your mouth about these deviants." Her heart started pounding in her ears. Wasn't Rachel just warning her about this? Sweat started building on her palms and she tightened her hold on her phone again, knowing if she dropped it now, it was all over.
"I-I don't know what you mean." It was almost a whisper. Fear had wrapped around her throat and was trying to choke the life out of her. She was scraping every bit of bravery she had together, trying not to fall to pieces.
"Androids deserve rights? Deviants are people? That thing you haven't shut up about for over six months? Don't play coy now, Taylor, you've never been good at it." His winning smile had faded now as he considered her, a hint of anger starting to creep into his expression. "Deviants are just machines that have malfunctioned."
"Then why are you afraid of what I'm saying?" She countered, trying to steady her voice. She thought back to her interview with Michael Brinkley, to every interview before that where she'd been undermined, and tried to pretend like this was just another debate.
"Because you're making too much noise." He snapped, stepping even closer, his nostrils flaring. The small bit of courage she had built up snuffed out like a candle and she shuddered, just inches between them now. "People are sheep, willing to believe whatever nonsense fairytale you feed them. And you, with your millions and millions of followers, just happen to have the biggest spoon."
"Did you just come here to bully me into silence?" Taylor leaned away, still unable to make her feet move. Anthony just smirked as he observed her, not bothering to comment.
"Be reasonable, Taylor. You tried to ruin my career once before. I was very tolerant. I accepted it. I smoothed everything over. For over a decade you've lived in California and I haven't tried to retaliate once for what you did to me."
"What I did to you?" She repeated incredulously, her fear momentarily forgotten in the haze of disbelief. His hand lashed out suddenly, fingers clutching onto her wrist, and she dropped the phone. Panicked, she looked down without thinking, but the screen was facing the floor. She tried to pull her arm away, but he tightened his grip.
"You will retract your statements on deviants." Taylor kept tugging her arm fiercely, but Anthony held her firmly. In his grip, she could tell she was shaking. "I'm trying to keep this congenial."
"I won't." He pushed her backwards. She felt her back connect with the wall, just a couple of steps behind her. Hand closing over her other arm, he pinned her effortlessly and leaned in.
"I'm not asking again. If you won't do this, Taylor, I will use other means. I'm sure you're familiar with the Chloe model." She finally stopped struggling, staring up at him in horror.
"Elijah has them," she said quietly, unsure what else to say. She knew he would do it. There was no doubt in her mind. The only real question was what he would do with her in the meantime.
"Yes, he has the originals." He smiled indulgently at her, "I have an entire plant capable of android production. The originals were flawed. They were based on projections of what you would look like as an adult." He released one of her arms, brushing his fingers along her jaw, tracing his thumb along her bottom lip. "Don't be a fool. Just say yes."
"No." His face contorted with rage. His hand tightened around her throat, squeezing, cutting off the small gasps of air she had been taking. He released her other arm, tightening both hands on her throat. Her vision tunneled, she reached up, clawing at his hands, his arms, his face. Darkness started to creep into the edges of her vision. She stopped fighting.
"Detroit Police! Open up!" Anthony's grip on her throat loosened. For an instant, she saw something come across his face that she had never seen before, could never have imagined: fear. The pounding that she thought was her heart turned out to be a fist on the door. Panic was on her stepfather's face, and before he could formulate what to do, the door collapsed inward, bouncing off the opposite wall as one of the officers kicked it in.
"Don't move!" He finally released her. Taylor collapsed to the floor, her legs like putty beneath her, coughing and gasping. The officer yelled something else, but it was like she was under water now. There was just white noise in the background.
She curled back into the wall, shivering. Her still damp hair was clinging to her neck and shoulders, but she buried her fingers in it and tried to become as small as possible. Even as she tried to regain control of her breathing, she was starting to feel lightheaded from the hyperventilating.
"Hey," Taylor recoiled from the hand that touched her arm, but she lifted her head, staring into the familiar grey eyes of Gavin Reed. She scrambled backwards farther, away from him. Gavin looked startled; his hand still outstretched. He had crouched down in front of her, but now looked uncertain.
"He's gone." He told her as she looked around the room frantically, her chest heaving. "He's already in a squad car downstairs." Finally dropping his hand, he continued to stare at her, unsure what to say next. In his other hand was her cellphone, the screen black now. "There's an ambulance on the way."
"I don't need it," she heard herself say, voice hoarse, barely over a whisper.
"Tch," Gavin scowled at her. "Don't be stupid."
"I'm not stupid." She said quietly. Closing her eyes, she focused on slowing her breathing down. Her chest was tight. She was starting to feel dizzy.
"Then stop acting like it," He offered his hand to her again. She stared at it for a moment, then glanced at his face, his lips pinched into a frown. This time she reached out and grasped it, her smooth hand sliding against his callused one. He stood, pulling her to her feet as well, and released her just as quickly, offering her the phone he was still holding.
She accepted it, her hands still trembling. Ashamed, she tucked them back against her sides. Gavin seemed to notice as well, but he didn't comment. "If you don't get checked out by the EMTs, Hank and that plastic asshole won't let me hear the end of it."
Taylor raised her eyebrows at him. They stared each other down for a minute before she decided she probably wouldn't win this argument. "Alright. Let me get my coat."
She met Gavin back by the door of the hotel room a few minutes later, sliding her black trench coat on over the teal sweater she had picked out earlier. They stood a few feet apart in the elevator, riding down in silence, until Gavin suddenly spoke up.
"Sorry, uh, for the things I said to you. You know, before." He was positively stumbling over the words, like each one caused him physical pain. Taylor stared at him in disbelief, and when he noticed her expression, he scowled again.
"Apology accepted," she said quickly, before he changed his mind. A small smile quirked the side of her mouth, and she added, "Thanks. You should try being nice more often. It suits you."
"Piss off," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning away from her. Her smile grew, but she didn't say anything else as they arrived in the lobby of the hotel. Gavin led her toward the door, where she could already see the flashing lights through the glass panels.
To her surprise, Gavin stayed with her while the paramedic looked her over and cleared her, saying she would have some bruising. He then offered to drive her back to the station to make a statement. "Can it wait? I don't think I'm up to it."
It was the truth, but only a partial truth. She was already thinking back to Markus and the others, about how long she'd been gone already and how much she still had to do. She was implying she intended to go to sleep and try to forget what just happened, and maybe Gavin would let her off.
"Alright, but you should come in tomorrow." He conceded rather easily, though he looked somewhat skeptical. Still, he was trying to be nice to her, so he didn't push it. "You have someplace to stay?"
"I'll go to my brother's," Taylor answered without missing a beat. "Jakob lives here in the city. He won't mind putting me up for a night or two. He's probably already heard about what happened anyway."
"Fine," he was about to turn away, but he hesitated again. "Do you need a ride?"
She smiled that time, unable to contain it. The slightly awkward look on his face was almost endearing, and had she really been going to her brother's house, she might have accepted his offer, if just to watch Gavin trying to be nice for a little while longer.
"I can make it. Thank you, Gavin."