Chapter Thirty-Five
Jenny woke to see activity outside the clear wall of her cell. Men moved furniture and cardboard boxes into the big concrete laboratory outside, while others watched Jenny with their TASER weapons drawn, even though she was trapped in her cell with both airlock doors sealed.
She kept her face blank—a stoic approach was the best way to deal with the seer, she thought, whether his name happened to be Helmut Kranzler or Ward Kilpatrick. She refused to complain or act upset by anything he did, because then she was giving him power over her. Her bathroom nook had clear walls like the rest of her cell, giving her no privacy. She’d first avoided showering altogether, then broken down and done a quick few minutes each week. Now she forced herself to do it every night, after most of the staff had gone to bed, and act like she didn’t care about the cameras or the dark observation windows above. Let them stare at her big pregnant ass if they wanted. She wanted them to know that nothing they could do would bother her.
Jenny heaved herself out of bed, which was becoming more of an effort every day, now that she was six months into her pregnancy. She eased her weight onto her feet. The baby awoke with her, swimming and kicking inside her. Jenny winced each time she felt the tiny girl kick—not out of pain, but out of fear that the baby would somehow kick loose the pox and get herself killed. The amniotic membrane protected the baby before birth—Jenny knew because, at times, she herself had been born wrapped in a caul, and those mothers had not died from giving birth to her.
“I hope we didn’t disturb you, Jennifer,” Ward said. His smile was predatory as he emerged from where he’d been skulking, somewhere behind her bed and out of her line of sight.
She noticed that her breakfast tray had not yet been delivered, which meant no coffee. She needed a cup, but wasn’t going to ask for one.
“You’ve been disturbing me since we met,” Jenny replied.
“Aren’t you curious what we’re building here? It’s quite a little project.”
“I’m sure I’ll find out eventually,” Jenny said. “Then I’ll get bored with it. So let’s just stretch out the mystery for now.”
“You should know, Jenny, that you’re the last to resist,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Everyone else has seen the wisdom of cooperating with us. Tommy, Esmeralda, Mariella...even Seth.”
“Yay for Seth,” Jenny said. She assumed Ward was lying.
“You don’t believe me? He did it for her, Jennifer. For pretty little Mariella. They’ve grown very close these last couple of months.”
Jenny tried to show him nothing. She didn’t want to think about Mariella’s prediction, that she and Seth would ultimately be together, how Seth was destined to be the love of Mariella’s life, that the sex would be amazing, and all that bullshit Mariella had chattered freely about before realizing Jenny and Seth were together. Now Jenny was isolated from everyone, while Seth and the girl were off doing God knew what together...according to Ward, Jenny reminded herself. Jenny would have to lie here alone, feeling her and Seth’s doomed daughter splashing inside her womb, until the inevitable happened.
Maybe it was destiny. Maybe Jenny needed to be sealed off from the world, unable to hurt anyone. Maybe she didn’t deserve a happy life, or love. She was a monster, and would always be a monster, and not even death could save her from it. She came back, and back, and back.
“Does anything look familiar yet?” Ward asked, walking out to where the furniture had been arranged. It looked like they’d built a small bedroom right in front of her cell...her bedroom, she realized. Her own bed, with her own patchwork childhood blanket. Her own bookshelf, her posters on temporary walls made of cork. Her own laundry scattered right on the floor, as if they wanted it identical to the day she’d left it. She realized that it had been at least a year and a half since then, and she was suddenly sick with worry about her father. She’d had no way of getting news from him at all. Clearly, Ward or his people had been to her house.
“We thought you’d feel more at home this way,” Ward said.
“Did you see my father?” Jenny asked.
“Oh, yes. Pathetic little man. He probably survived our visit, but I can’t say I followed up to check.” Ward smiled at her through the thick, clear wall. “Now, our special treat, just for you...”
Two men set up a very tall, very wide projection screen at the far end of Jenny’s reconstructed bedroom. All the lights in the lab dimmed. Images appeared on the giant screen, pictures of Jenny’s victims, kids from school, old people from church...their faces contorted, twisted, ripped apart by deadly infection.