UnWholly (Unwind Dystology 2)

“We have not yet found a consort for the creature,” Cam says, mimicking Roberta’s accent.

Kenny chuckles. “You got a right to be choosy,” he tells Cam. “You shouldn’t accept anything less than what you want.”

Cam reaches the end of his workout, and the machine begins its slowdown. “Even if I can’t have what I want?”

“All the more reason to demand it,” Kenny advises. “Because then maybe they’ll get closer to the mark.”

Sound logic, perhaps, although Cam suspects it will do nothing but set him up for disappointment.

That night he goes alone to the tabletop computer screen in the living room and starts digging through photo files. Most of it is random stuff—the images Roberta still tests him on, although not as frequently as before. None of it is what he’s looking for. He finds a file that features the head shots of all the girls who interviewed. Two hundred smiling, pretty faces, with attached résumés. After a while, they all begin to look alike.

“You won’t find her in there.”

He turns to see Roberta standing on the spiral staircase, watching him. She descends the rest of the way.

“Deleted?” he asks.

“Should be,” Roberta says, “but no.”

She touches the screen, logs in, and opens up files that had been locked to Cam. In just a few seconds she drags out not just one, but three photos and sighs. “Is this who you were looking for?”

Cam looks at the pictures. “Yes.” The other two photos, like the one he had already seen, seem to have been taken without her knowledge. He wonders why Roberta is now willing to show him these pictures of the girl in the wheelchair, when she was so much against it before.

“Bus,” says Cam. “She was on a bus.”

“Her bus never made it to its destination. It was run off the road and hit a tree.”

Cam shakes his head. “I didn’t get that memory.” Then he looks to Roberta. “Tell me about her.”

20 - Nelson

The Juvey-cop turned parts pirate has outdone himself this time! Not one, but two AWOLs!

Nelson attributes his success to the ingenuity of his tactics. He caught the girl at a food court by posing as a resistance worker. Gullibility has always been his greatest ally. The girl’s hair isn’t quite red, as Divan requested, but it could be strawberry blond in a certain light. As for the boy, Nelson used the girl as bait, securing her to a drainpipe near an abandoned factory in an umber neighborhood that was known to be AWOL-infested. He waited until her cries drew someone from the dark recesses of the building, and he watched as the boy freed her. Then, from his vantage point in a building across the street, Nelson tranq’d them both as they ran.

His DNA analyzer pegged them both as known AWOLs, which is always better for his conscience than catching kids who actually had a life to go back to.

The drive back to Divan’s auto dealership is filled with anticipation for Nelson. He was never an overachiever, so doing twice the job with half the effort is a rare thing indeed!

When he arrives, Divan is surprised but thrilled to see him so soon after the last delivery. “What a catch,” he exclaims, and for once, doesn’t even dicker—he gives Nelson the price he asks. Perhaps because Nelson doesn’t ask for his trophies this time. The girl’s eyes have fading purple pigment injections that are just plain ugly, and Nelson never did see the boy’s eyes. He rarely covets what he doesn’t see.

In a rare show of gratitude, Divan treats Nelson to dinner in the kind of restaurant he hasn’t frequented in quite a while.

“Business must be picking up,” Nelson comments.

“Business is business,” Divan says, “but prospects are good.”

Nelson can tell that the black marketeer has something on his mind. He watches and waits as Divan dips a spoon into his coffee, stirring slowly, methodically. “At our last encounter,” Divan says, “I spoke to you of rumors, did I not?”

“Yes, but you failed to share them with me,” Nelson says, drinking his own coffee much more quickly than Divan. “Are these rumors something I’ll enjoy hearing?”

“Not at first, I’m sure. I’ve heard it spoken of more than once now. I didn’t want to bring it to your attention until I had heard it from more than one source.” He continues to stir his coffee. Not drinking, just pondering the swirling liquid. “They are saying that the Akron AWOL is still alive.”

Nelson feels the little hairs on the back of his neck rise and embed themselves in his collar.

“That’s impossible.”

“Yes, yes—you’re probably right.” Then Divan puts down his spoon. “However, did anyone actually see or identify the body?”