Chances Are Omnibus (Gender Swap Fiction) Page 31

“So that’s what this is about? Revenge?”

  “That is only a pleasant secondary benefit.” He grabs my left arm at the elbow and runs his thumb along my track marks. “What I am most concerned with is your blood.”

  “Why? You said you already have the FY-1978. You probably got the original formula and Dr. Nath’s notes, right?”

  “Very true, but that is still not a working model of the serum. For that, we need your blood.”

  “Fine, you have my blood. Now let us go.”

  “I’m afraid not. You would most certainly tell your friend the police officer. We can’t afford any interference at this juncture.”

  “What am I going to tell him? I don’t know anything except your name. You’ll probably be back in China before we could find you.”

  “Perhaps, but I see no reason to take the chance.”

  “That’s no reason to keep Maddy. She doesn’t know anything.”

  “That is also very true. You haven’t told her who you really are, have you? She thinks of you only as her dear friend.” When he touches my hair, I flinch. “You wanted to protect her, like any father would. That is why my father wouldn’t let me go to the meeting with Mr. Luther.”

  “He was a smart man then, wasn’t he?”

  “Not smart enough to avoid his fate.”

  “Look, I’ll do whatever you want. Just let Madison go. She’s not part of this.”

  “I’m afraid not. Her presence will guarantee your cooperation with our experiments.”

  “What experiments?”

  “You’ll find out, in time. For now, you need to rest. Miss Qiang will give you something to help you sleep.”

  Before I can say anything, I feel the needle in my neck again. Once more everything goes dark.

  Chapter 9

  There’s no clock or window so I can’t keep track of time. Every so often I wake up for a few minutes, long enough to see I’m still strapped to the gurney. I make a feeble attempt to break the straps that hold me down. When that fails I call out for Maddy. I never hear her answer me.

  Qiang comes in a minute later. She touches my forehead and then says her usual, “You must relax. You are safe here.”

  “I want to see my daughter. I want to see Maddy!”

  I never see the needle until it’s too late. There’s the slight prick in my neck and then everything begins to fade again. I’m not sure how many times this cycle repeats itself. Everything runs together into one long nightmare.

  One time I wake up and things are different. I hear a rumble like a car’s engine. I can’t see anything but a hazy brown light. It’s warm around me. I feel my breath against my face. They must have a bag over my head. I try again to free myself. It doesn’t take Qiang so long to come to me this time.

  “Do not worry, Stacey. Everything is all right.”

  “Where are you taking me? Where’s Maddy?”

  Qiang doesn’t answer me; she lets the needle do it for her. I feel it prick my neck and then the hazy brown light turns to blackness.

  The next time I wake up, something is different. There’s more light in the room; sunlight comes through a crack in the wall. When I turn my head, I see a wall with a chalkboard on it. There are wrinkled signs with the letters of the alphabet written in cursive.

  I’m in a classroom. From the dank smell of the place, not one that’s been used for a while. They must have taken me from that warehouse to an old elementary school, one that’s been closed down. That narrows my location down to about two-dozen possible places. That is if I’m still in the city. By now they might have carted me across the country, or even across the ocean to China.

  There’s another difference I note when I start to thrash around on the gurney. There aren’t any straps to hold me down, so my thrashing lands me on the floor, hard. I lay dazed for a moment before I sit up. I don’t have on a hospital gown anymore; I’m clad in dark blue pajamas. I roll up the left sleeve of the pajama top. I have to squint in the darkness to see the skin of my elbow. It’s still pale as a ghost, but there aren’t so many puncture marks.

  My muscles have atrophied from all that time spent on a gurney. I have to grab onto the bed in order to lever myself into a standing position. My knees are still wobbly after a few moments on my feet. I plant one hand against the wall to help support me as I survey my new prison.

  Dr. Ling and Qiang have been careful not to leave me anything too useful. There aren’t any tools around. No loose boards I can pry apart. The closest to a weapon I can find is a mildewed history textbook. I flip through the table of contents; the textbook stops after the Watergate scandal. Either this school closed thirty years ago or they didn’t bother to update their books for a while.

  The door is solid wood, on which is still a cutout of a centipede with a mortarboard atop its head. I try the knob, but of course it won’t open. If I look around I might find something I can use to pick the lock. I doubt they’re so stupid as to not have another lock on the outside, probably a padlock. If I’m really valuable to them they might have a fancy computerized lock on the door.

  The boards over the windows are on the outside. I give them a few good pushes anyway, or as good as I can do in my weakened condition. There’s nothing in the room I can use as a battering ram, just the gurney and a bedpan. Out of desperation I look up at the ceiling. Maybe if I can climb up on the gurney I can free the tiles.

  I manage to stand on top of the gurney for all of two seconds before my knees buckle. I drop onto the gurney; it collapses onto its side. I hit my head on the floor hard enough that I see stars. As I lie on the floor in a daze again, tears come to my eyes.

  Then I hear a tap on the wall. “Stace? Is that you?” Maddy’s voice hisses.

  I crawl over to the wall. I give it a tap. “Maddy?”

  “Stace?”

  “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little tired. What’s going on? Where are we?”

  “We’re in an old school. I’m not sure where.”

  “Who are these people? What do they want?”

  I’ve never told Maddy anything about Lennox Pharmaceuticals or FY-1978. She and Grace think I’m a nineteen-year-old girl who ran away from her abusive parents three years ago. Through the wall of an elementary school-turned-prison isn’t how I want to explain the truth.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “They’re doing some kind of medical tests on me. Have they done anything to you?”

  “No. This Chinese lady keeps giving me a shot to knock me out.”

  “Me too.” I press against the wall. I wish I could break through it so I could hug Maddy, tell her everything’s going to be all right. Or maybe she could do the same for me. “We’re going to get out of here. It’ll be fine.”

  “Sure it will,” Maddy says. I can hear her bitterness through the wall.

  “No, listen, can you stand on your bed? Try to pop one of the ceiling tiles.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I’m not sure how long it is before she taps on the wall to get my attention. “It’s no good,” she says. “It’s too small.”

  “That’s all right,” I say. I try to keep my voice calm. “We’ll find another way. Is there anything you can use for a weapon?”

  “All that’s in here is the bed, a bedpan, and a globe. I don’t think those would do much.”

  “Probably not.”

  “How long have we been here?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure Uncle Jake has everyone out looking for us.”

  “They’ll never find us here,” Maddy says. I can hear her muffled sob through the wall. “What are they going to do to us?”

  Maddy’s tears make me want to cry again. I tell myself I have to be strong right now. “Madison, listen to me,” I say. I muster as much authority as I can with my songbird voice. “We’re not going to die here. We’re going to find a way out. I promise.”

  “Sure,” she says.

  “We just have to stay calm and think.”
<
br />   “All right.”

  I run through everything I already tried. Maddy’s done it with her cell too. Dr. Ling’s done a nice job with the place. But there has to be a weakness somewhere. We just need to find it and exploit it.

  I hear a metallic rattle at the door, probably that padlock I imagined. “Someone’s coming,” I whisper to Maddy. Then I hurry to put the gurney back. It’s hard work given how weak I am. I jump on top of the bed as Qiang appears through the doorway.

  She carries a metal tray. I worry at first that it might be another shot or surgical tools or something like that, but then I smell food. “It is time to eat,” she says. “You need to get your strength back.”

  “So you can take more blood?”

  “I hope not.”

  If I weren’t so weak I’d try to knock her down and then make a break for it. Dr. Ling probably has guards somewhere, but it would be better than to sit around and wait for him to dispose of me like so many used needles. At the moment, though, I doubt I could run ten yards before I collapse from exhaustion.

  She sets the tray on the end of the bed. It looks like some kind of stew, a roll, and a glass of milk. “Shouldn’t you be serving fried rice and egg rolls?” I ask.

  “I thought this would be more to your liking,” she says. “I can send it back.”

  The pained expression on her face indicates I’ve actually hurt her feelings. Maybe there’s a way out of here after all. “No, this will be fine,” I say. The utensils she gives me are plastic, not strong enough to even give her a nasty scratch.

  I dig into the stew. That’s not part of the act; I’m really hungry after nothing but IV fluids for however long it’s been. “This is good. Did you make it?”

  “Yes. It is a family recipe.”

  “So you’ve made it for your family?”

  “I did.”

  “But not anymore? They didn’t come to America with you?”

  The pained expression comes across Qiang’s face again. “This is not an appropriate conversation. I will pick up your tray in a few hours. Does your bedpan need changing?”

  “No, not yet. Wouldn’t it be easier to let me use the bathroom? I assume there’s one in this place somewhere.”

  “That would not be acceptable. The bedpan will have to suffice.” The way she marches out of the room with her back ramrod straight and legs stiff tells me she’s trying not to break down after what I said. Something in her past haunts her, something about her family. If I can work on her a little bit, maybe she’ll help me and Maddy escape.

  Qiang stops by the next time while I thumb through the history book. I didn’t do so well in my American history class at community college, despite that I’d lived through the last fifty years of history. “I don’t suppose you could get me something else to read? A newspaper maybe?”

  “I will ask about that.”

  “Dr. Ling, right? He’s the one running the show?”

  “It is not my place to say.”

  She takes the tray from where I left it on the floor. I left her a little present in the bedpan too. She picks up the bedpan delicately, but doesn’t show any sign of revulsion. She’s probably done this before. “So are you a nurse back in your country?”

  “Dr. Ling says I should not answer such personal questions.”

  “I see. He’s probably watching us right now, isn’t he? This is a real nice prison he’s built for us. How long is he planning to keep us here?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Is he going to hurt Madison?”

  “I do not know.”

  I jump off the bed. I take a few steps towards her. I lower my voice to make sure Maddy can’t hear me through the wall. “I have to know: is he going to hurt my daughter?”

  “I do not know.”

  She starts to walk away, but I lunge at her. I grab her shoulder. “Tell me!” I can’t get any farther before someone comes through the door. Something heavy hits me in the back of the head.

  I’m out before I hit the floor.

  ***

  I wake up to something cold against the back of my head. With a groan I reach back and feel an ice pack with a hand on it that’s not mine. I open my eyes and see Qiang beside me. I’m back on my bed, the top part of the gurney up so I’m in a reclining position.

  “You should not have done that,” Qiang says.

  “No kidding,” I grumble.

  “You must not try to escape. You will only end up hurting your daughter.”

  Qiang’s probably right about that. I might be too valuable for Ling to kill, but Maddy isn’t. “Is she all right? Did they hurt her?”

  “No, she is fine. For the moment.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “I am afraid not.”

  “I won’t try to run again. I just want to know she’s all right.”

  “That is not possible.” She takes the ice pack from my head and then smoothes down my wet hair. “You must try to relax. We have no wish to harm either of you.”

  “Yet. But when they’re done with us, what do you think is going to happen? Those friends of yours will put a couple of bullets into us and then drop us into the river.”

  “Dr. Ling would not do that. He is an honorable man.”

  “Just like his father, right? Did he ever tell you how his father died?”

  “That is not relevant.”

  “He was trying to buy the formula—the one in my blood—from a gangster named Artie Luther. The deal went sour and he got shot.”

  “That is not relevant,” she says again, but I can see her face tighten.

  “These aren’t nice people, Qiang. Do yourself a favor and get out of here as soon as you can because chances are you’ll end up in the harbor with us.”

  “Dr. Ling would not hurt me.”

  “Oh no? You, me, and Maddy can compromise his little operation. If any of us goes to the cops, he’s screwed. You really think he’ll keep us around?”

  “He promised—”

  “Promises aren’t worth a damn from people like that.”

  I’m not prepared for her to slap me. I’ve been hit a lot harder, but the sting is still enough to bring tears to my eyes. Qiang seems as surprised about it as I am. She presses the ice pack to my cheek to take away the pain. “I am sorry, Stacey. I did not mean to strike you.”

  “It’s fine,” I say. I push the ice pack away from my face. “What did he promise you? Money? A job? Love?”

  “My daughter,” she says. Then she turns on her heel and storms out.

  ***

  I wait a little while before I go over to the wall I share with Maddy. I tap on the wall and hope she’s not asleep—or something worse. “Maddy? Are you all right?”

  I sigh with relief when I hear Maddy say, “I’m fine. How about you?”

  “Just a little headache thanks to Dr. Ling’s friends.”

  “Who?”

  “Dr. Ling. That’s his name. The guy who took us. He hasn’t been in to see you?”

  “No, just that woman. I know this sounds weird, but she seems nice.”

  “I know. But we have to remember she’s the enemy.”

  “Right.” Through the wall I hear Maddy sigh. “What do you think Grace is doing right now?”

  “Probably thinking about you.” Thinking about us, I want to say.

  “I miss her so much. I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to her.” I hear Maddy start to cry.

  I desperately wish I could break through the wall so I could hold her. All I can do is sit there and say, “It’ll be all right, Maddy. You’ll see Grace again. We’ll find a way out of this.”

  “I know,” she says with a sniffle. “I’m going to sleep now, OK?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” I fetch the pillows off the gurney, and make myself a nest by the wall. For hours I listen to Maddy cry before her sobs finally turn to the soft breathing of sleep.

  Chapter 10

  Now that there’s a little bit
of light in my cell and no one constantly drugs me, I can keep better track of the days. The plastic utensils Qiang gives me for my meals can’t do anything to a person, but the prongs of the fork can scratch the wall. That lets me keep track of how long Maddy and I have been here.

  As the notches start to pile up, I continue to work on Qiang. But since she mentioned Ling’s promise about her daughter, Qiang has all but clammed up. She still encourages me to eat and relax, though now with an iciness in her voice. Maddy’s noticed the difference too. We spend a lot of our time talking through the wall. I read from the history textbook sometimes to help us stay occupied.

  Other times Maddy talks about life outside of this awful place. I start to feel like a priest in a confessional as she opens up to me. “Last Christmas Mom finally asked me the Question.”

  “What question is that?” I ask.

  “When am I going to settle down and make her some grandchildren?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. She just blurted it out over dessert, after Number Four went to watch football or something like that.”

  Number Four would be my ex-wife’s fourth husband, the third after me. I’ve never met any of them; Maddy hasn’t reintroduced me to my wife yet. I haven’t been adamant to make that happen either. “She does know about you and Grace, doesn’t she?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “She knows I’m a lesbian. She was really cool about the whole thing when she found out. We had one of those Lifetime talks on my bed when I was fifteen. She said all that stuff about how it’s OK if that’s what makes me happy and everything.”

  “Well, that’s good,” I say. That’s been my opinion of Maddy’s lifestyle as well, not that I ever got the chance to have a heart-to-heart with her about it. “So she knows you can’t really make a baby, doesn’t she?”

  “She knows.” Maddy stops to laugh bitterly through the wall. “Mom doesn’t know shit about computers, so I guess she went to the library to ask the librarian about it. Can you see that? This old lady asking some dried-up librarian about how lesbians make babies?”

  I force myself to laugh. It’s hard for me to think of Debbie as an “old lady.” She’s only forty-nine. To a girl Maddy’s age that’s ancient. “That’s pretty hard to believe,” I say.