Man Made Boy (34 page)

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Authors: Jon Skovron

BOOK: Man Made Boy
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“It’s that bitch, Claire, fighting you, isn’t it? Just keep her inside a little longer. We’ll be rid of her soon.” He climbed into the van, reaching for her again.

That’s what I’d been waiting for. I coiled myself up and pushed off the ground with my stubs as hard as I could. The pain was like touching raw nerves to sandpaper, but it got me upright. I teetered there a moment as Robert slowly turned and looked at me with dumb shock. Then I slammed into him. His head cracked against the side of the door and bounced back, which in turn pushed me backward. I fell onto my back, squirming like a bug as I tried to roll over. Then Robert hit me in the head with something. It wasn’t enough to knock me out this time, but it dazed me long enough for him to pull Sophie out of the van and slam the door closed.

I heard Sophie scream through her gag. Then there was a sharp slap.

“Sorry, Sophie! Sorry!” I heard him say. “I wasn’t hitting you, I was hitting Claire. This will all be over soon, I promise. We’ve got a benefactor now who’ll provide us with whatever we need. Her resources are incredible. She was even able to pinpoint your exact location in the middle of the desert! After today, the curse of our granddad will be lifted and we can have
normal
lives. I’ll do my research and you can go back to school….”

He went on and on, raving about all the “normal” things they’d do. I heard the sound of metal clanking, of leather straps
snapping, of glass tubes clinking…. Crazy thoughts flashed through my head. I remembered the way Sophie had described those early experiments he’d done on them. I couldn’t handle it. I had to get out.

After a lot of squirming, I was able to roll over and inchworm my way to the crate that held my arms and legs. I knocked it over with my head and they spilled out onto the floor. I bit the shoe of one leg and dragged it slowly over to the sliding door. I rolled onto my back again, with my leg on my stomach. After a lot of failed attempts, I managed to get all four stumps around the base of my leg so that the foot pointed up. I inched on my back to get the foot positioned right, then dropped it so the foot hooked onto the sliding-door latch. The latch moved down, but not enough to open the door.

“Shit,” I hissed.

I couldn’t get enough of a grip on my leg with my stumps. They were too short and slick with sweat and blood. I stared at my leg for a moment as it dangled from the door latch.

Then Sophie screamed.

That was the only motivation I needed. I closed my eyes, bit into my own leg as hard as I could, and jerked my head down until I heard the latch give and the door slide open.

I let go of my leg and rolled out of the van. When I dropped to the floor, I took the fall on my side so I wouldn’t crack my head. The air whooshed out of me and I gasped for breath, fighting off the dizziness and tunnel vision. I still had no idea what I was going to do, but I’d gnaw the guy’s ankles off if I had to.

I rolled across the grimy cement floor in the direction of the sound. On the other side of the garage, I found a makeshift lab. There were a couple of metal bookshelves stacked with powders and liquids in beakers and vials, some kind of large refrigeration
unit, and Sophie strapped to a metal gurney. No wonder Claire had been freaked out at The Commune. It was the exact same setup.

Robert was muttering to himself as he ran a centrifuge on a nearby table. His eyes looked totally crazed now.

“Please, Robbie!” sobbed Sophie. “Please stop! Please!”

“Don’t let Claire out, Sophie! Fight her! I know you can do it! I’m almost ready for the final injection. Once the catalyst goes in, it’ll be a little painful, but then everything will be perfect. I promise! Just don’t let her out, Sophie. That will ruin everything.”

That will ruin everything.

“Claire!” I shouted from the floor. “I know you’re scared. But you’ve got to come out and fight! For your mom and Stephen. For Adam Iron and my parents. For all the victims of asshole creators!” Those words tasted bitter in my mouth, but I said them because I knew it would get to her.

Sophie’s face began to ripple and her body spasmed.

“No!” shouted Robert. He picked up a long knife from the table. He took a lurching step toward me, then toward the transforming Sophie, like he didn’t know which way to go first.

“I’m the one you want!” I shouted to him. “I’m the monster that messed up your chance at normal! Me!”

The transformation was half complete. Sophie and Claire flickered back and forth, the size of the body shifting as they strained against the leather straps.

Robert walked slowly toward me. “Yes, I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill her. At this point I’ll have to sacrifice Sophie, but that can’t be helped. The world must be rid of every last Hyde.”

I tried to roll away, but I realized too late I’d backed myself against one of the metal shelves. I slammed into it as hard as I
could, hoping to knock it down, but it was bolted to the floor so it just hurt like hell.

He raised up the knife. His eyes gleamed with rage, his lips pulled back in a grimace.

Then a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Back off our boy.”

He tried to dodge, but he wasn’t fast enough. A fist smashed into his face and he went stumbling into one of the shelves, glass vials shattering as he fell.

I looked up and saw that Sophie and Claire were still halfway between the change, shifting, growing, shrinking, expanding as they stumbled toward Robert, reaching for him.

“Get away!” he screamed. “You monster!”

“No, Robert,” Sophie and Claire said with one voice. “You’re the monstrous one.” They picked him up and slammed him into the shelf until he was unconscious. Then they dropped him to the ground.

Finally, the transformation subsided, and there was Claire, her fists clenched and her jaw set as she stared down at the man who had always terrified her. She looked supremely badass, even wearing Sophie’s too-small polka-dot dress.

Then she turned and knelt down next to me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m kinda in pieces.” I forced a smile.

“Well, I’m kinda wearing a dress.”

“Miniskirt on you.”

“If you weren’t all bloody and stumpy, I’d punch you.”

“It almost sounds like you’re concerned about me.”

“Yeah, it’s my nurturing instinct.” She hauled me up into a semi-sitting position. “Come on, Humpty Dumpty, let’s put you back together again.”

“How did you break out of those leather straps? Some kind of crazy adrenaline?”

“Actually,” came a clipped, upper-class British accent, “I provided some assistance there. The ladies looked uncomfortable, so I loosened the buckles for them.”

We scanned the garage, looking for the source of the voice.

“Show yourself!” Claire stood up, her fists ready. “Who are you?”

A cigarette rose up into the air.

“Me?” came the voice.

A match flared and lit the floating cigarette. Then the cigarette began to puff itself.

“Why, I’m the Invisible Man, of course.”

We stared at the floating cigarette for a moment.

Then Claire said, “Wait, does that mean you’re naked?”

21

Worth It

“RIGHT,” SAID CLAIRE. “I know you’re invisible and everything, but you need some clothes on before I can have a conversation with you.”

“I understand completely.” The Invisible Man picked up a button-down shirt and pants that had been neatly folded in a corner of the garage. As he slipped them on, he said, “I can assure you, I do not generally make it a habit to walk around nude.”

I’d seen a lot of different kinds of monsters, and I didn’t think there was anything that could freak me out anymore. But seeing those clothes floating in the air like that, I could feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. It was more than just looking at something unpleasant or dangerous. It was looking at something my eyes told me was impossible.

“There now.” He pulled on a pair of thin leather gloves and a fedora hat. “Hopefully that puts you at ease somewhat, my dear.”

“It’s in the right direction,” she said.

He held out his gloved hand. “You can call me Kemp, by the way.”

“Claire Hyde,” she said. “And that’s about sixty percent of Boy, son of the Monster.”

“Let’s round up the other forty percent, shall we?” said Kemp.

Claire and Kemp went over to the van and put my arms and legs back into the crate. Obviously, I just stayed put.

“So what were you doing here?” Claire asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Robert did some odd jobs for me,” said Kemp. “It’s my van, you see. Last night he took it without permission. He’s always struck me as rather unstable, so it didn’t really surprise me. I’d taken him in a few weeks before, more out of pity than any real need for him. I always try to help creatures in need of shelter and employment. Anyway, I tried calling, and he was even more rude than usual. I knew he often holed up here, so I came round to see about getting my van back. And then I happened upon you lot in what I would frankly call a dire situation.” His fedora swiveled toward me. “Now, it looks like the next order of business is to get you fixed up. Fortunately, I know just the person to help.” He turned back to Claire. “Give us a hand getting him into the car, will you?”

The two of them loaded me into the passenger seat of a two-door BMW sports car parked at the garage entrance.

He put on a latex mask that, from a distance, probably looked like a face with empty eyes. Up close, though, it made him look even stranger. “I’m afraid my car won’t fit three. Would you be a dear and follow behind in the van? It’s only a short way to The Studio.”

“So what is The Studio exactly?” she asked. “We’ve heard it’s like a special effects studio or something?”

The latex mask crinkled up into a smile beneath empty eyes as he said, “You’ll see soon enough.” Then he put on sunglasses.

“What should we do with
him
?” I asked, pointing my chin at the unconscious Robert.

“Ah, yes, thanks for reminding me.” Kemp pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. “Good evening, Lieutenant, it’s Kemp. I’m afraid I need a favor. There’s a man trespassing in one of my warehouses. It’s on Sixth and San Pedro…. Yes, his name is Robert Jekyll. I’m sure he has a fairly long record…. Please tell your officers to be careful. He may be violent and is most likely insane. No telling what he might do…. No, he’s not one of mine. Not anymore…. Yes, thanks as always for your discretion, John. I do appreciate it.”

He hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket. His fedora turned to Robert sprawled on the concrete.

“I’ve done everything I could for that arrogant fool,” he said softly, almost to himself. “He wants to be human so desperately? Then he can live by their laws.”

KEMP WOVE IN and out of traffic down Hollywood Boulevard as the sun began to rise above the building tops. Los Angeles was a nice-looking city. Big, but spread out. It didn’t feel as crowded or as dirty as New York. But there was something strange about it that took me a moment to pinpoint. There were almost no pedestrians. In New York, the sidewalks were crammed with people, sometimes to overflowing. But LA felt like a city of cars, all speeding and swerving, cool and faceless. It wasn’t until you got close to another car that you saw other people at all.

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