Graham Whitiker: They Call Him Traitor

Present day 2090: Mendalton Prison

I wake with a start. After this many years, you’d think the dreams would stop. Drenched in sweat, I swing my feet over the edge of my cot-of-a-bed. The floor is cold. I walk to the small chrome sink in the corner of the room. The reflective peel mirror gives my wrinkles and white hair a clown-in-the-fun-mirror effect. Splashing water over my face, I sigh into my hands. Water runs over the ends of my black latex sleeves. I walk back to my cot. Taking my pillow case, I run the thin fabric over my wet hands. A buzzing comes from the end of the block’s hall. The doors open. The other inmates whistle. Another woman has been admitted. The footsteps stop at my cell. The C.O. bangs on my bars.

I nod. “Mornin’ Gary.”

Gary nods. “Got your next cellmate Whitiker. Be nice to her.”

I roll my eyes. He waves for me to stand. I stand, putting my hands through the slot for cuffs. Stepping back, I put my hands on the back of my head and spread my feet. Gary pushes the girl into the cell. She doesn’t look at me. She’s small, almost dainty. I can tell this is her first time, but I don’t know why she’s in the high priority block.

Gary uncuffs her, slamming his hands on the bars. “Behave now miss. Ya hear?”

She turns, rubbing her wrists and rolls her eyes. I step up to the bars to be uncuffed. She takes the cot opposite mine. Gary slips me a snickers bar, grinning, and leaves us. She sits quiet, knees to her chest. Walking in front of her, I stop. She pulls her legs in closer. The wrapper crinkles. I hand her half of my snickers. She looks at it, up at me, and then takes the piece with a slow deliberate hand. Her latex body suit squeaks with each uncomfortable movement. Another sign she’s a new transfer.

I watch her take a small bite. “You’re welcome.” I snicker, sitting on my cot.

She doesn’t look at me. “Thanks.”

I take a bite, looking at the floor. “First day?”

She snickers. “What gave it away?”

“You keep squirming in your suit.” I glance up at her; she stops moving and looks at the floor.

She shrugs, still looking at the floor. “How long have you been in here?”

I sigh, looking at the ceiling. “Since I was twenty-four by my original age. By body age, since I was eighteen.”

She giggles. “That was a long time ago. So what? Sixty something years?”

I lean back, looking her in the eyes. “Close. Seventy-three.”

She raises her eyebrows, rolling her eyes, and looks at the floor. “Didn’t mean to hurt your delicate features. You don’t look ninety-seven.” She looks off towards the mirror, dropping her voice. “More like a hundred, but who’s keeping track?” She looks me up and down. “Pretty cut for an old man.”

I chuckle to myself without giving myself away. Finally, a cellmate with a sense of humor. We sit in silence. I assess my new cellmate. Spunky, seemingly intelligent, fragile, witty, a good hundred and five pounds soaking wet, and scared. She takes another bite, trying to keep as much as possible for as long as possible. She’s smart enough to ration herself. She’s been on the streets for quite some time. Is this her first life?

She nods to me. “So old man, what’s your crime?” She looks me in the eyes.

I look at the floor. “Murder.” I look up at her. “You?”

She scoffs. “Prostitution.”

I lean back against the wall. “That’s not a high profile offense.”

She grins. “It is when you do it illegally.”

My eyebrows raise. “It’s legal?”

She nods, looking at the floor. “Yea. You didn’t know that?”

I chuckle. “I’ve been in prison since 2017.”

She rolls her eyes; eyebrows raised. “Well, not long after that, in 2045, they legalized and found a way to tax sex acts to the public.” She turns on her cot. “The top escort services from your time turned themselves into major corporations selling sex to the populace. The only thing that makes it illegal is selling to minors, using minors, or not being a registered freelancer.” She runs a finger over her knee. “I worked for two of those companies under two names, and worked for myself on the side.” She looks up at me. “Turns out it’s just as illegal as working unregistered. So here I am, sharing a cell with a geezer and wearing unflattering latex. I mean black is slimming, but come on.” She pulls at the collar of her suit. “Why do we have to wear skin tight latex anyway?”

I sigh. “Can’t hide weapons or contraband.”

She snickers. “Yea, like that’s gonna keep inmates from finding ways.”

I put my hands behind my head. “Since I’ve been in here, way back when they used cloth.” I cut my eyes at her. “It’s dropped inmate crime seventy percent and deaths from shanking by ninety.” I pause and shrug. “Plus, they’re easier to clean.”

She shrugs her lips, not looking at me. “Well, I stand corrected.”

…

Long, silent hours later, the dinner bell rings. Gary comes back, cuffs us, and escorts us to the caf. Gary uncuffs us as we enter the caf. I keep a close eye on her, putting her in front of me in line. We walk through the line in silence, but my training keeps my eyes on everyone. No one makes a move toward her. Yet.

I follow her to an empty table at the back of the room, sitting opposite her towards the crowd. She places her tray on the table. Heads turn to her. Heads turn to every woman in the caf. Their percentage being five in this prison. This particular section time, has four women, total. I can only protect one.

A brawny man, Carlson, stands by his seat. His latex suit is pushed down around his waist. His tattoos flex with his muscles. I’ve been wanting to kick his smart, cocky ass since he came in here. I almost got to once. Maybe this is my chance.

Carlson stops at the end of our table, leaning on his hands, and grins at me. “Hey marine.” He looks at the girl. “Who’s your friend?”

The girl looks at me, dropping her eyes to her tray. Carlson slides a hand closer to her. The girl puts a stray strand of her short brown hair behind her ears. She won’t look at him or me. Every muscle in my body tenses. A silence hangs in the caf. All eyes are on us. Even the guards’.

Carlson lifts a hand, running the tips of his fingers across her cheek. “She’s awfully pretty. Fresh meat always does well here. How much you want for her?”

Before I can stand, the girl grabs his fingers. Twisting them, she breaks three before he, or I, can react. Carlson screams, hitting his knees. She lets go of his fingers. Taking her metal tray, she slams it across the left side of his face. Food, spit, and blood splatter everywhere. He falls to the floor; nose bloody, two teeth on the concrete, and fingers twisted in unnatural directions. Guards run from across the room, from down the stairs, and some from the hallway. I put the girl between me and the wall. Carlson rolls on the floor still screaming, drooling blood everywhere. Watching him in agony, I have a strange sense of pride and jealousy towards her.

The guards cuff Carlson on the floor. Two of them come for her. I stand my ground. I know what happens to inmates who make trouble. They say solitary. They mean hazing. Female inmates get it worse than male. The percentage of female C.O.’s is less than that of inmates from the same male rituals. The girl clings to my arms. I stand tall. A guard clubs me in the gut. I hurts, but I don’t move. Both guards club me. I flinch, sucking my teeth. Gary walks up to me.

Gary looks from me to her; knowing who did it. “So Whitiker, who did this?”

I look him dead in the eyes. “Me.”

Gary nods. “Okay. Cuff him. Leave her in her cell until he gets out of solitary.”

A guard escorts me to solitary. I look behind me. Gary walks with a guard as he takes the girl back to our cell. Three hallways, two sets of stairs, and one elevator ride to the basement below the basement, and we are in what they refer to as solitary. What that really means is, you and a group of guards are out from under the warden’s watchful eye. Alone. To do whatever they want.

A guard, Johnson, points to me, smirking. “Strip Whitiker.”

Another guard, Hammond, chuckles. Five others stand and watch. I strip out of my suit. Standing naked in front of them, I stare them all down. A young guard, Dunrick I think, picks up a fire grade water hose.

Hammond nods to me. “This is gonna be good.”

A guard in the back, Stratten, claps his hands together. “I’ve been wantin’ to see this since I heard about you gettin’ put in solitary last time.”

Hammond takes hold of the hose. I brace myself. He turns it on. The ice cold water blasts against me. I try to hold my ground, but I have to crouch. Hammond holds the hose right above me, and I fall to my hands and knees. I know I’ll be bruised in a matter of minutes.

Thirty minutes later, I know because I counted, Hammond turns off the hose. Weak and out of breath, I stay on my hands and knees. Stratten kicks me. I fall over.

Stratten kicks me again, in my ribs. “Get up Whitiker. I thought you were supposed to be some bad ass marine from back in the day.” He kicks me again; a rib breaks.

I roll onto my back. Stratten raises his foot for another kick, and Johnson puts a hand to his chest. He shakes his head. Stratten stares at him.

Johnson shrugs. “Leave some for the rest of us.”

Dunrick steps forward. “Yea, let me take him first.”

Dunrick takes off his tan, latex uniform jacket. Putting up his fists, he nudges me. I roll onto my knees. Standing, I brush my ribs with my right hand. It hurts, but I can’t let them see all my pain. With one rib already broken, there’s a slim chance I won’t get out without having to go to the infirmary. I put up my hands, assessing my opponent.

Tall, slim, trimmed, cocky, trained but inexperienced. I can take him. I can dodge and block, but I’m not allowed to fight back. If I can get him in just the right spot, I can get him down without making an obvious move.

We move in circles, neither making the first move. The others egg Dunrick on. Some call him a pussy, others reassure him. Dunrick jabs at me with his right hand. I dodge. Whoops and hollers ring out. Jeers follow. He jabs at me again. I dodge. More noise. He jabs. As I dodge he left hooks, landing on my jaw. I fall to the floor. Spitting blood, I stay down. Dunrick grins to the others, putting his hands in the air as if hitting an injured old man was some kind of accomplishment. I roll my eyes.

I get up. He turns around; smirk faltering. We turn in circles again. He jabs, hooks, upper cuts. I dodge most of them, never getting to land any blows myself. The last strike puts me on the wet floor. Weak, I struggle to get on my elbows. Finding the strength, I stand. My ribs ache, my jaw aches. I’ve spit out three teeth with a fair amount of blood. I’ve managed to keep my eyes from being hit though.

Dunrick taps his cheek. “C’mon. I’ll let you have one free of penalty.” He sticks out his cheek to me, tapping it again.

I stand as straight as my ribs will allow. Stepping up to him, I can’t help but hesitate. Is this a trick? Will he hit me? I stop in front of him.

Dunrick laughs through his nose. “Look. How about this.” He puts his hands behind his back. “Is that better?”

Just as the last word leaves his mouth, I throw my right fist. Knuckles meet jaw bone. Spit flies from Dunrick’s mouth. His head snaps around. A crack hits my ears. Dunrick falls to the floor. I stumble back, holding my ribs. Dunrick doesn’t move. Johnson rushes to him. He puts two fingers to Dunrick’s neck.

Johnson looks up at me. “You killed him.”

Johnson stands. Everyone steps away from me. The only sound is the hum of the old florescent lights among the dead silence. Johnson looks from me to Dunrick.

Johnson points to Hammond. “Take Whitiker back to his cell.”

Hammond snaps up at Johnson. “But it hasn’t even been a day. He – ”

Johnson cuts him off short. “I don’t give a damn! Send him back so we can deal with this in private.”

Stratten takes a step forward. “We could just kill him instead.”

Johnson jerks his head to Stratten. “Do you know what would happen if it got out that a Marine sentenced to life was killed and reincarnated before he was supposed to? Or worse, not reincarnated? How do we explain to the Warden that Whitiker died of old age with signs of murder? Or that he just disappeared?” He slaps the back of Stratten’s head. “Think dumbass!”

They all stare at Dunrick lying on the floor. He will be reincarnated soon, but won’t be able to keep his job if they find out why and how he died. If they can cover it up, an investigation into his death won’t happen. That is, if they can cover it up properly.

Hammond takes my arms, cuffs me, and escorts me back to my cell. The girl sits in the far corner out of sight. Hammond takes off my cuffs, staring me down the entire time, and tosses my suit through the bars. If they had killed me now, my escape would be much harder to manage.

Once Hammond leaves, I collapse onto my cot; suit remaining on the floor. The girl sits on her cot. I close my eyes, putting my fingertips on my ribs. Three broken on the left, two on the right. None broken enough to hit my vitals. I run my tongue along my teeth. A molar and canine missing on the top right, a canine missing on the bottom left. It’s a good thing I get new teeth when I change.

I don’t look, but can tell she has gotten up. My suspicions are affirmed when she picks up my suit. Turning it right side out, she rolls a leg until the foot pad is between her fingers. She slips the foot pad over my left toes, then the other over my right. I stiffen my legs as best I can to help her. She gets to my groin and looks at the wall. I chuckle to myself. A shy prostitute? When she passes my hips, she scrunches the sleeves for my hands. Once they are in, she helps me sit up to pull the rest of the suit on. This is the most painful part. She pulls the suit over my shoulders, and I lie back down.

I wince. “Thanks.”

She sits back on her cot. “Don’t mention it.”

I sigh. First time a woman’s dressed me since I was three. A knock on the bars. I open my left eye. The infirmary nurse stands outside. The bars open, and she steps in. I guess they don’t see us as a threat, or they want to keep this secret. The nurse sets her medical bag on the floor at the foot of my cot. The door closes behind her.

She doesn’t look at me. “Mr. Whitiker, I will need you to take off your suit.”

I roll my eyes; the girl snickers and looks at the nurse. “I just got that on him.”

The nurse cuts her eyes at the girl. “You shouldn’t have done that. You could have furthered his injuries.”

The girl puts up her hands. “Sorry lady. I’m not a doctor.”

The nurse rolls her eyes and looks back at me. “Please, strip.”

The nurse helps me sit up and pulls off my suit. She gives my sides firm, annoying presses. After telling me what I already know, she wraps me in tight bandages and redresses me. That makes twice since I was three. After giving me obvious and explicit instructions to stay in bed, she walks the three steps to the cell door.

Stopping, she turns back to us. “I was never here.” She nods to both of us and leaves.

I sigh, closing my eyes, and lie on my cot. “So, where’d you learn to break a man’s fingers like that?”

She laughs through her nose. “I’m a prostitute.” She gets quiet. “Why’d you take the fall for me?”

I sigh, long and hard. I don’t really know why. I just know what happens when a woman is taken to solitary. My last female cell mate never came back.

I open and cut my left eye at her. “Seemed the right thing to do.”

She nods, grinning. Her short hair hangs over her straight bangs and into her face. Her hands dangle over her knees tucked close to her chest. I close my eyes, beaten and exhausted.

The call for breakfast is the next thing I hear. Gary brings our breakfasts to the door. “Mornin’ Whitiker.” He nods his head to the girl. “Ma’am.”

The girl gets up from her cot and takes both trays. “Call me Wire.”

Gary nods. “Hmh.”

I turn my head. “Hey Wire, bring that chow over here.” I look at Gary. “Thanks.”

Gary nods and leaves. Wire brings the trays to her cot, setting them down. She turns to me. I try and sit up, stopping short. She walks over to me and puts her hands on both my shoulders.

Wire squeezes them and pushes. “Just hold your horses old man.”

I grin. “That’s First Lieutenant Whitiker.” I cut my eyes to her. “Or Graham if you like.”

Wire snorts. “K, Graham.”

Wire helps me sit back against the wall. Wire brings me my tray. Setting it in my lap, she hands me my spork. Grits, biscuits and gravy, eggs, and bacon. Prison food has gotten almost gourmet since 2065. The newest President has made some odd changes since the advancement of the reincarnation mutations which emerged in 2017. I should know. I was patient zero. I sit and stare at my tray. Wire looks up from hers, smacking, and looks at me.

Wire tosses her spork in my direction. “You gonna eat it or stare at it?” She gets quiet and stares at me. “Cause, you know, I’m pretty hungry.”

I chuckle. “Yea, I’m gonna eat it.”

Wire reminds me of my Second Lieutenant.

…

2017: Deep African Jungle

I lead my men through thick brush. First time I’ve been to Africa. Our boots move across the jungle floor as quiet as the ground will allow. The darkness allows for good cover, but that doesn’t mean they won’t have night vision too. Not to mention, they know the area better than we do. The P.O.W. camp isn’t too much further. I put my fist in the air. A rustling to my left. Eyes first, I look in the direction. A snap. Red and yellow lights flash. A small mushroom cloud rises, and dirt flies all around. My ears ring as I, and my whole platoon, hit the ground. Rapid pops fill the air. We return fire. Bright yellow dots light the infinite darkness of the jungle floor. We are only a mile from the camp. We push through enemy fire. Breeching the perimeter, we fight our way into the belly of the camp.

I burst through the door. My Second Lieutenant is nowhere to be found. Three P.O.W.’s stand against bars. Their uniforms cling to and hang from their bodies. The mud and filth stains what’s left of their uniforms. Breaking them free, each man holds onto one from my platoon. Three years in the camp under deep cover of the African rebels. They went in to find the missing school girls; got taken instead. We fight our way out of the camp and trek our way to the rendezvous point.

Once at the Pave Hawk, the other men load the prisoners into the hawk. My Second Lieutenant is still M.I.A. I reach for my com. Pushing the button, it clicks and statics. I pull it to my mouth while watching the perimeter.

“Bowser, Bowser. This is Mario, over. Peach in bird. Do you copy?” I let go of the com. button. Nothing comes back. “Bowser, I repeat, Peach in bird. Do you copy?” Still nothing comes.

One of the P.O.W.’s grabs my arm just as I let go of the button.

He looks me in the eyes. “There’s something you need to know. We weren’t taken by accident.”

I lock eyes with him. “What do you mean?”

He looks to the sky. “We were set up.”

Before he can tell me more, a buzzing comes across the air. My Gunny taps my shoulder. When I look at him, he points to the brightening sky. A line of B-52’s scream towards us through the bluing purple. The ground rumbles. The transitioning light illuminates a mushroom cloud as it rises above the trees surrounding the clearing. We are all sitting ducks. I move for the pilot’s door. Opening it, he falls out. No one else with us can fly the helicopter. The bombs gain on our position.

Gunny looks me in the eyes. “Sir, don’t they know we’re here?”

I shake my head. “Negative gunny. Top priority. No one knows we’re here but one. And he’ll deny it.”

A bomb hits just outside our position. Dirt flies everywhere. Trees fall. Daylight continues to creep up on us. The bombs get closer until one hits right on us. I and those that can, run and duck for cover on the perimeter line. The last bomb hits. None of us should have survived.

The next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital, both hands cuffed to the bed. Weeks after the mission. N.C.I.S. agents stand outside my hospital room. How did I survive?

…

Wire dropping her tray on the shelf of the door, brings me back to the room. My grits are getting cold. First time in years I let any chow get cold. I look at her tray. She ate every bite. I eat my food in silence. She sits on her cot. She taps her feet on the cot’s thin mattress, huffing, and looks around the small white cell. I can tell she’s bored.

I finish my food, setting my tray beside me at the foot of the cot. “You know, boredom can be made better by talking.”

Wire gets off her cot and puts my tray with hers before sitting back down. “Yea. Too bad we don’t have anything in common to talk about.”

I snicker. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Wire glares at me. “What then?”

I lean my head against the wall. “We can play twenty questions.”

Wire laughs. “Are you for real?” She rolls her eyes. “That’s a child’s game.”

I shrug and wince. “I guess I’m just a child at heart.”

Wire nods, smiling. “Okay. Me first.” She watches me nod. “When were you born?”

“Nineteen ninety-three.” I toss a finger at the white numbers and letters on her suit. “So inmate 73-DF-521, what’s your real name?”

Wire grins. “I was wondering when you’d ask that. It’s Darcy. Darcy Valentine.” She crosses her arms. “Are you married?”

I shake my head. “No. How old are you?”

Wire squirms on her cot. “Eighteen.” She looks me in the eyes. “Where’d you live before prison?”

I grin. Good, a year younger and she wouldn’t come back.

I sigh. “Clarksdale, Mississippi. Can’t say if there’s anything left of it now, damn gangs.” I rub my fingertips across my ribs. “Your hometown?”

Wire looks to the ceiling. “Atlanta, Georgia, but I’ve lived all around.”

Wire continues to stare at the ceiling. Before she can ask another question, Gary appears at the door. He holds a lumpy, white bag. I know what that means. Gary raises the bag, and the cell door opens. Gary walks in and stops in front of the door. He holds the bag in front of him with both hands. Wire looks back and forth between me and Gary.

I struggle to stand and look at her. “Laundry day.”

Wire shakes her head. “What does that mean?”

Gary looks at us both. “Strip. You will have them back in a few hours.”

Wire’s eyes widen. “So you’re telling me I have to sit naked for three hours for clean clothes?” She glances between us, shaking her head and hands. “Hell no, you’re crazy.”

I grin. “It’s not that bad, and if it makes you feel better, I won’t look at you the whole time.”

Wire rolls her eyes. “You wish old man. No one is seeing me naked for any reason.”

I chuckle to myself. Was she really a prostitute? I look at Gary. “I’ll need some help.”

Gary points to Wire and then me. Wire rolls her eyes. She walks over to me. Starting off rough, she slows down when I wince. When my suit is off, she puts it in the bag. She then strips herself, throwing her suit in the bag and wrapping her arms around herself. Gary nods, turning around, and leaves the cell.

I sit on my cot. The first time I’ve had to avoid looking at a naked woman since the time I lost my virginity. Caitlin Farrah; she wouldn’t look at me either. She barely kept her eyes open and wanted me to do the same. I don’t look at Wire. In fact, I try my hardest not to. Nothing more challenging than not doing what you’re told not to do. That tempting factor hangs over you, begging you to disobey. What I can attest to is the fact that she is sitting on her cot with her legs pulled up to hide her chest and lady parts. She has her arms wrapped around her legs with her chin on her knees.

I look to the ceiling. “So, it’s still your turn to ask a question.”

Wire laughs through her nose. “You still on that?”

I shrug.

Wire laughs again. “Okay, well, who was your first love?”

I sigh and grin. “Amy Swartz. I was gonna marry her when I came home from my last deployment. Didn’t happen. Didn’t even get to ask.” A silence fills the room. Never made a woman speechless before. “So, same question.”

Wire sighs. “Hasn’t happened yet. Thought it did when I was thirteen, but it turned out to be gas.” We laugh, and the silence returns until she breathes in a sharp breath. “Um, where were you deployed?”

I sigh. “That’s supposedly classified.”

Wire lowers her voice. “Of course it is.”

I look from the ceiling to the floor at my feet. “How is working for two prostitution corporations and for yourself considered a high priority case?”

From my peripherals, she shrugs. “I guess they don’t like being crossed like that. Plus it’s hard to tax if you’re not registered as a freelance prostitute.”

I nod my head to the wall. “Mhm… If you say so.”

Not too much longer, Gary comes back with our folded suits. He pushes them through the tray slot and leaves. I grab them both, tossing Wire’s to her. She catches it, moving to the corner. She puts it on, facing away from me. I guess you have to pay for her to be less shy. I dress myself slow and strained. By the time I have my suit up to my waist, Wire has turned around. She walks across the small cell and helps me with the arms.

Adjusting my collar, Wire glances at my eyes. “You ever think about getting out of this place?”

I cut my eyes at her. “Maybe.”

Wire snickers. “When? Before you die, or after?”

I chuckle. “Maybe before. Maybe in transport to re-registration. It all depends.”

Wire stops and looks at me. “On what?”

I look her in the eyes. “How long old Titus lives.”

Wire sits on her cot. “Who’s old Titus?”

I stretch out on my cot, holding my ribs. “The third generation of the Warden’s dog.”

Wire rolls her eyes. “What does a dog have to do with your escape?”

I shrug. “I take care of him, have since I go in here. He trusts me. I’ve felt that I’m dying. So, for the past few months, I’ve groomed him to this female not too far from the grounds.”

Wire shakes her head. “Why does a prison with inmate trackers need a dog? Isn’t that a bit two-thousand’s?”

I snicker. Oh how right she is. “Well, trackers can malfunction, dog’s noses generally don’t.”

Wire rolls her eyes. “Yea. Makes sense.” She nods her head at me. “Why are you tellin’ me your plan? Aren’t you worried I’ll tell?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

Wire shrugs. “Why not?”

I smirk. “Cause you and I both know I could kill you for good with one good slam through your brain.”

Wire’s eyes widen. “Noted.”

I smirk. “Night, Wire.”

Wire snickers. “Yea, night.”

…

2017- Three weeks after Graham and his men were fired upon:

I wake up, eyes blurry. I try to wipe them. When my hands don’t reach, I thrash about. Heart racing, I look down at the cuffs around my wrists and bed railings. I stop my thrashing and look around. White walls, 90’s box TV in the top corner of the room, controls on the bed railings. A hospital. Why am I handcuffed to a hospital bed? Safety? Am I under arrest? Why? By the time I come to terms with my predicament, two N.C.I.S. agents walk into the room.

The first one, in a blue suit, stands on my right. “Son, do you know why you’re here?”

I really want to mouth off. I just woke up in the hospital, obviously I’ve been injured in some way. I don’t though. Utter respect is expected.

I look him in the eye. “No sir, I don’t. But I assume I was injured on my mission. The last thing I remember was friendly fire.”

The agent in blue looks across the bed to the agent in a tan suit. “Mission?”

I look between the two of them. “Yes sir.”

The agent in the tan suit looks at me. “What mission was that?”

I look him in the eyes. “Classified. If you want the details you will have to ask my commanding officer.”

The agent in blue puts his hands on my bed railings, leaning over onto the balls of his palms. “Son. We did. He says you led a platoon into the jungle and left them to die.” He glances at the agent in tan. “He also said you leaked information to the rebels about where your platoon would be.” He stands tall, crossing his arms. “What do you have to say?”

My face and ears get hot. I know I’m turning red. I clench my fists, pulling against the cuffs. The metal presses into my skin. It hurts, but not nearly as much as the idea of someone thinking I’m a traitor.

I talk through clenched teeth. “I would never desert my men or my country. And I would never turn traitor, sir.”

…

Present day:

Wire and I sit in the caf. I sit with my back to the wall, the whole caf in view. Wire scrapes her spork through her refried beans. Carlson eyes us from the middle of the caf. He eats left handed. His right hand shakes. The splints on his first three fingers tap the metal table. The bruises on his face are between purple and yellow. Hard to believe it’s been a week since Wire put him in the infirmary. My ribs ache with every breath, but they’re getting better. I haven’t been this toothless since I was seven. I chuckle to myself every time I run my tongue through the gaps. I look across the table, tossing my spork at Wire.

I look her in the eyes. “You gonna eat that or play with it?”

Wire smirks. “Here. I don’t like them.”

Wire picks up her tray, scrapping the beans onto my tray, and grins. She sits back down, still grinning. The past week has been a comfortably silent one. We still have yet to finish our game. Officer Johnson walks past us. We meet eyes. He snarls at me. I smirk back, keeping eye contact. Johnson grabs at his belt and looks away.

Rubbing his nose with a finger, Johnson yells across the room. “Sit down inmate! Don’t you do what I know you want to!”

I grin to myself. Glancing up, Wire looks over her shoulder at Johnson. She looks back at me and tosses her spork.

Wire meets my eyes. “You ever gonna tell me what went down with you and the guards? I thought solitary was a single room all to yourself but without a window.”

I chuckle. “I’ll tell you when you’re older, but just so you know, solitary is not something you want to go to. So don’t volunteer.”

Wire snickers. “Why not?” She looks up at me. “You did.”

I just look at her and grin. “Yea, I guess I did.”

We grin at each other in silence and eat until the buzzer goes off for lights out.

Back in our cell, we lie on our cots in the dark. I can’t tell how Wire is lying, but I’m on my back staring towards the ceiling. Her breathing hasn’t shallowed enough for her to be asleep. I roll away from the wall. Sighing, I slip a hand under my head. I stare at what would be the other wall for what feels like hours before closing my eyes.

The next morning, Wire and I wake up to the buzzer. Shower day. Gary comes up to the cell door. He waves for us to get cuffed. We oblige. Gary hands each of us a towel and a bar of soap with a rope sticking out of one end.

Wire looks at her towel and soap. “What’s going on?”

I look ahead of us. “Don’t you know what soap is? You’ve been complainin’ about needin’ a shower.”

Wire looks at Gary. “So what? Friday we clean ourselves, and Saturday we clean our suits?”

Gary nods. “Yes ma’am. Now move.”

Wire and I are escorted to the showers. Gary uncuffs us, and we strip; putting our suits on designated hooks. The two of us walk past the two guards on duty into the open shower room. Two shower heads are open between Carlson and a small guy by the name of Squirrel. I stay between Carlson and Wire. Wire covers herself, glancing around her feet. Squirrel and Carlson won’t take their eyes off her. She just stands below the shower head. Sighing, I turn on her water.

Wire looks up at me. “Thanks.”

I turn back to my water, scrubbing my armpit. “Better get washin’ before it turns ice cold.”

Wire snickers and mumbles. “Like it’s not already.”

I catch Squirrel inching closer. We meet eyes. He scoots away. Wire scrubs her body, but is gentler around her left jaw line and right thigh. Minutes later, the shower heads turn off. Wire wraps her towel around herself until she gets to her suit. The rest of us walk out in all our shriveled glory. I stay close to Wire while she slides on her suit under her towel. Gary comes back, cuffs us, and escorts us to the caf.

My favorite day of the week for breakfast. Mexican omelet day. Wire and I fix our trays, sitting in our usual spot. Squirrel sits at Carlson’s table. They eye us. Squirrel sucks his buck teeth. Upturned nostrils flare. He eats his omelet like a sandwich, all the while stealing glances our way.

I look at Wire. “You up for some fun today?”

Wire glances up at me from her plate. “What kind of fun?”

I shrug. “Nothin’ special, just some time off the grounds.”

Wire locks eyes with me. “You’re kidding right?”

I shake my head. “Naw, today’s the day I take Titus out for his weekly run.”

Wire’s eyebrows raise. “Ooh, I see.” She shrugs. “Yea, I’m game.”

I snicker. “Good.”

We finish eating just before the buzzer starts. I lead the way through hallways and doors, nodding to the few guards along the way until we reach the room with the dog cages. We walk past Bernice. She holds the front of her belt. Her uniform stretches tight around her round stomach.

I nod. “Mornin’ Bernice. Is that a new hairdo?”

Bernice’s plump red lips break into a smile. “You know it baby!” She pats at the back of her tight, black swirl.

I chuckle to myself, and we walk through the doors. Barks bounce around the cinderblock room. The cages line the walls. Police dogs from Terrier to Rottweiler. Down in the corner is a redbone coonhound just a wagging his tail, waiting on me. Wire looks around the room at the other dogs barking and jumping.

Wire talks over the noise. “You sure it’s okay for me to go with you?”

I grin. “Yea. Sure.”

Wire just stares at me. “They don’t know I’m with you, do they?”

I chuckle. “Nope.”

She can read me pretty well. Good. She’ll need that instinct. I open the door to Titus’ cage. He lopes to me from his house in the back. His loud bark hits my ears. Makes my teeth hurt every time. Wire hangs back, eyeing Titus. I crouch, scratching behind his ears. I grab the leash hanging by his door and lock it to his collar. Looking around us, I lead us to the door. No other C.O.’s see her leave with me. Steve doesn’t even speak when he lets us out the front gate. He just nods, never looking up from his sports illustrated.

It’s not but an hour out that we stop on the walking trail where I left Trixie. She bounds out of her little shack. Tail wagging, tongue flopping, she reaches the end of her rope. Her black ears hang by her red collar. Titus walks up to her, sniffing and pawing. They pant and sniff at each other. I tie Titus to Trixie’s stake and walk to a large stump a few feet away. Removing the top of the stump, I take out my Martin knife.

Wire jumps back. “What’s that for?”

I snicker. “Not you if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

Wire rolls her eyes. I sit on the edge of the stump and pull my left arm from my suit. Taking the knife, I slice the top of my shoulder about an inch down. Setting the knife on my knee, I grit my teeth and pull the computer chip from below my skin. I stare at the bloody chip in my hand. No bigger than an iPhone five sim card, and it can be tracked all around the world.

I turn to Wire, holding the knife to her, handle first. “Your turn.”

Wire looks at the knife handle. “Um.”

I grin. “You want me to do it?”

Wire locks eyes with me and nods. I wave her to me. She stands between my legs with her left shoulder to me. Closing her eyes, she turns her head away and bites her lower lip. I cut into her. She grunts, gritting her teeth, but doesn’t flinch. Higher pain tolerance than I thought. I pull the chip from her and sigh.

Wire opens her eyes and looks at me. “That wasn’t so bad.”

I chuckle. “Did better than I thought you would, kid.”

Wire rolls her eyes, grinning. I turn around to the stump and take out a small medical kit. Rubbing a thin layer of ointment on our cuts, I put butterfly tape on them and cover them with large Band-Aids.

I sigh, looking at the bottom of the stump. “I wasn’t expecting to do this with anyone, let alone a woman, so I got these last minute. I hope they fit.”

I hand Wire a hooded flannel shirt, tank, pair of tactical pants, and combat boots. She takes them, looking at the tags. Grinning, she looks back at me.

I shake my head. “Wrong sizes?”

Wire shakes her head. “Just right.”

I chuckle. “Good.”

I take out my own clothes. Turning away from each other, we change. I reach back into the stump, pulling out my old Glock 18 and tuck it in the back of my pants, flopping my flannel shirt over it. Reaching in again, I pull out my Berretta M9. Letting it swing on my finger, I hold it out to Wire.

Wire looks between the gun and me. “You want me to have a weapon? You trust me that well?”

I shrug. “If you try and kill me, I’ll just win anyway, so what’s the harm?”

Wire snickers, taking the gun. “Okay, if you say so old man.”

Titus meanders over to me. He rubs my leg with his side and licks at my fingers. Moaning and groaning, he pushes into me over and over. I crouch down, scratching his ears.

Wire watches us. “What’s wrong with him?”

I shrug. “Nothing, just he can tell I’m dyin’. Won’t be too much longer now. Maybe a day or two. I can feel it.”

Wire meets my eyes. “How can you feel it?”

I look back at Titus. “I’ve had cancer the past month. Doc said it would be any day now. Dogs’re real sensitive to stuff like that.” I look her in the eyes. “They can smell it.”

Wire crosses her arms. “Well, how can you feel it?”

I stand up, exhaling. “I’m weaker. It’s harder to breath, move. I don’t look like I’m sick ’cause I never sought treatment.”

Wire tilts back her head. In the looming silence, I take our tracker chips and put them in the stump along with our suits; taking out the one back pack. With one last moment with Titus, I stand up straight and lead us away from the prison without a single glance back. Wire follows as close as she can.

We tromp through the surrounding woods for hours until we get to the highway. Reaching into the side pocket of the pack, I take out a small compass. North is to our right. Turning to our left, I lead us south. Once we come into town, we stop at a small diner. Hoods up, we sit in a corner booth. The TV blares over the bar. A woman in a red shirt and black pants comes to our table.

The woman holds up her pad and pen. “What can I get you two to drink?”

Wire cuts her eyes at the woman. “Sweet tea please.”

The woman grins. “We only have iced tea miss.” She pauses. “Would you like some sugar packets?”

Wire shakes her head. “No, water then, thanks.”

The woman purses her lips, turning to me. “And you sir?”

I toss up a finger. “Coffee ma’am.”

The woman grins. “Okay then. I’ll be right back with those.”

The woman pivots and walks behind the bar. I glance at the TV. The alert for us is just now coming across the news. Our mug shots flit across the holoscreen. A ribbon moves along the bottom, reading: Armed and dangerous fugitives loose. Report immediately if seen. Do not approach.

I look at Wire, talking low. “Go to the bathroom. Leave through the window. If no window, leave after a couple minutes. I will follow closely after.”

Wire nods. I watch her walk to the other side of the diner; hands in her pockets and head down. She reaches the bathrooms no problem. I watch the clock above the bar. Two minutes down. She hasn’t come back.

The waitress comes back with the drinks. “There you go sir. Anything to eat?” I shake my head, and she leaves.

I wait until she’s behind the bar again. Putting a five on the table, I get up. Walking to the door, I bump shoulders with a young woman. Making eye contact, she glances up at the holoscreen. Looking back at me, her eyes widen. I rush through the door before she can call too much attention to me. Meeting Wire behind the diner, I grab her arm. Getting to the nearest vehicle, I look for a way in. No door seams. No handles. Not even a damn key hole.

I look at Wire. “How the fuck do you get into one of these things?”

Wire looks around us. “Watch.”

Wire reaches under the front driver tire. Standing straight, she holds a glove. She slips it on her right hand and puts it to the door. A blue circle surrounds her hand and lights up the glove. Within seconds, the door disappears. Wire gets in the driver’s side, opening the passenger door for me. Closing the doors, she starts the car and begins hitting buttons on the dash.

I glance between her and the dash. “What’re you doin’?”

Wire doesn’t look at me. “Disabling the tracer and anti-theft system before we leave the parking lot.”

I look ahead, then for my seatbelt. “Oh, good.” I pause, still looking. “Where in the hell is my seatbelt.”

Just as the words escape my mouth, a racing style seatbelt buckles itself around me. The speed from the belt locking and synching pulls me back into my seat. My head hits the small head rest, forcing me to look out the windsheild. Just as two people round the corner of the diner, Wire hits the gas and the car jerks forward. We speed away before the two strangers finish rounding the corner. I try looking behind us, but there is no back glass. In fact, there are no windows at all. My stomach drops, and I hold on to my arm rest and “Oh shit” handle. Wire cuts her eyes at me and grins. I stare at the supposed windshield. It shows the road, but not in a normal way; more like blur. I haven’t played that game since my kid brother begged me to before I deployed last.

I cut my eyes at a still grinning Wire. “What’s so funny?”

Wire cuts her eyes at me. “Been a while since I had an uneasy passenger.”

I take in a breath. “Been a while since I’ve been in a car with no windows.” I cut my eyes at her and grin.

Wire snickers at me. “Where to?”

I look forward. “South. Home.”

Wire looks at me. “Bad idea. They’ll be lookin’ at every place you ever lived now that you’re out. Me too.” She looks forward.

I adjust my grip on the “Oh shit” handle. “Not this place.”

We drive in silence all the whole nine-hour drive to Walnut Community, MS. Slowing down, we turn onto a turn row. We follow along the cotton field’s edge and make our way to a small, pink house. Looking around, we walk inside. Seventy-three years, and the place still looks the same. One bedroom, one bath. The double door, stainless steel 2010’s refrigerator still stands in the corner of the yellow kitchen. Is Consuela still cleaning and stocking the kitchen after all this time, or did she have a kid to take over? Hmph.

I throw the pack onto the brown leather couch. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to take a hot shower.”

Wire sits on the couch next to my pack. “How do they not know about this place?”

I grin. “I paid for it under a different name before I went into the Corps.”

Wire shrugs her lips, not saying another word. I walk into the bathroom. Staring into the small mirror above the little sink, I sigh. I turn the shower on and get in. Gradually, the hot water hits me, filling the room with steam. The door knob clicks. A small gust of cold wind makes it way past the shower curtain.

I look at the curtain. “Wire, that you?”

A short pause before Wire answers. “Yea, I had to pee.”

I chuckle to myself. “Don’t flush. The water gets scaldin’ hot.”

Wire snickers, and the toilet paper roll taps. “Yea, I’d enjoy that after this mornin’.”

I chuckle. “Yea.”

A long pause sits between us until the door clicks again. I finish up, wrapping the towel around my waist. Drying my hair with another towel, I flush the toilet and wipe the steam from the mirror. The dyingness sinks in, weakening me to the bone. I strain to put my clothes back on. Staggering out into the living room, I hold myself up on the wall. Wire sits up from her perch on the couch.

I toss a finger to her. “Ima lay on the bed. I can feel it comin’ sooner than I anticipated.” I meet her eyes. “No matter what you hear, don’t panic. I’ve been through this before. I don’t remember it, but was told it was loud.”

Wire wrings her hands. “What do I do?”

I shrug. “There’s water and aspirin in the kitchen. Have it ready.”

Wire nods. She looks down at her balled up hands. I nod to the floor and stagger my way into the bedroom. Lying on my back, I stare at the ceiling until my vision goes black, my hearing wavers, and my body seizes. Then black, for what seems like hours, before an excruciating pain sets in to my core. My bones break, grow, and mend. Muscles snap, tighten, and move into different patterns. My airway is the first to come back. I scream. My sight is next. I cut my eyes to my right. Wire stands in the doorway, hand to her mouth. She gags, turning away. My hearing returns. She throws up in the bathroom. I keep screaming, trying to hold it in. Grunts follow screams and harsh breaths. Long moments later, the pain subsides to a dull ache. I breathe easy and relax.

Turning my head, I glimpse Wire poking her head around the corner. She holds a glass of water and four aspirins. She puts her head all the way into the room. Eyes wide, she walks over to me. Her hands shake as she hands me the aspirin. I roll onto my side, dizzy, and take the glass. Rolling back onto my back, I close my eyes, and fall asleep.

…

2017: One week in the hospital after Graham woke up:

I sit in my hospital bed, left hand cuffed to the plastic. They say I’m a murderer and a traitor. I say I did what I was supposed to. No one else was going in for those men. Apparently, no one was supposed to come out either. I need to know what that prisoner meant by they were set up. By who? Why? The charge nurse walking in to take vitals and check my fluids interrupts my thoughts.

I look her in the eyes. “Ma’am, why was I moved so far away from the rest of the population?”

The nurse glances at the door, lowering her voice. “You’re a special case. We’re not supposed to talk about it.” She raises her voice, handing me a mirror. “Sir, I’m not supposed to talk to you about that.” She looks back at me, whispering again. “Do you see why?”

I sit there, studying myself. I pull at the skin on my face. Is this really me? What happened to my long, blonde hair? Now it’s a brown, douchey, spiked mess. Hazel eyes turned blue. Full square beard turned baby face. What the hell happened? Who am I now?

I look the nurse in the eyes. “How old am I now? I look so much younger.”

The nurse focuses on her work. “Physically, eighteen. Mentally, so far you’re still however old you were when you came in, apparently with all your memories intact as well.”

I stare off into the void. Eighteen again? What? Wait, I have to check something. The nurse turns away for a moment. I take my chance. Lifting the covers, I shrug my lips. It’s not smaller. It may be even a little bigger. The nurse moves, and I put the covers back down. She finishes up and leaves the room.

…

Present day:

The sun shines on my face from the crack in the curtains. Sitting up, I put a hand to my head. I wonder what I look like now. I put my hand on my pillow, grabbing hold of my old hair. Rolling off the bed, I stagger to the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, a new set of eyes stare back. Solid green eyes, black ear length curls, and another baby face. Standing tall, my figure hasn’t changed much. Still pretty cut. I think I might be a little taller this time too. My clothes fit a little tighter. Boots too. Clanking brings me back to the house.

Walking into the kitchen, Wire shuffles around the room cooking breakfast. A pot of coffee sits warm and ready. Bacon, eggs, toast, and grits inhabit plates on the counter.

Wire wipes her hands on the back of her pants. “I didn’t know when you would wake up, but I wanted something ready.”

I grin, eyeing the grits. “Yea, um, this is great.” I scratch my stomach, looking her in the eyes.

Wire smiles, looking at the plates. In the silence, she points to a plate, taking the other. We stand around the kitchen, holding our plates and eating in silence. Wire turns to the sink, putting in her plate and fork. She doesn’t turn around.

Putting her hands on the edge of the sink, Wire looks at the stainless steel. “You look different than I expected.”

I smirk, chewing on bacon as I speak. “Bad or good?”

Wire shrugs. “Good, I guess.”

I take another bite of bacon. “What’d you expect?”

Wire shrugs again, holding up her shoulders. “I donno, not so young I guess.”

I chuckle. “I may look young, but I’ve still got plenty of life experience.”

Wire giggles, cutting her eyes at me. “Of course you do old man.”

We laugh, looking in different directions. Maybe she’s not all that bad. Maybe I did make a good choice in bringing her along. She moves to the stove next to the opening. I move to go past her when she steps toward the opening. My hand brushes her butt and thigh. I jerk my hand away, putting it on my neck as she whips her head to me, stepping to the side. I grin, scratching my neck and walk to the bedroom again.

Opening the closet, all of my clothes from my original body frame hang and swing in the light breeze. The closet gives off a musty cedar smell mixed with original Gain laundry soap. I strip. Standing in front of the closet, I try to make up my mind what I want to wear.

Wire stops I the doorway, staring for a second before turning around. “Um, so, you’re a bit naked. Is that on purpose, or is there a freaky side to you old man?”

I can’t help but laugh aloud. “Sorry, clothes don’t fit with the new body. These are from before I served. I was around the same size then.”

Wire crosses her arms, facing away. “Ah, well, I’ll be in the living room.” She cuts her eyes back at me for a hot second.

I watch her leave, shaking my head, and grin. Pulling down a Motley Crue t-shirt, jeans, and my old pair of Justin’s. Walking back into the living room, I stop.

Wire looks up at me. “What?”

I shake my head. “What’s that peelin’ off your face?”

Wire’s eyebrows furrow as she reaches to her left cheek. “Oh, um. That.”

I clear my throat. “Uh, yea, that.”

Wire holds her hand to her face. “I, um, I was injured. By a dog when I was younger.”

Wire speed walks to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Ten minutes later, she emerges; hand still covering her face. She doesn’t make eye contact as she makes her way past me to the couch. Sitting down, she removes her hand only to turn her face from me.

I sit by her, elbows on my knees. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad.”

Wire turns to me, short hair swinging. “Yes, it can.”

My eyes widen at the scars running from her forehead past her eye down to her chin. I lock eyes with her, not knowing what to say. So I just rub my mouth with my hand.

Wire smirks. “I know right? Hideous.” She looks at the flat screen TV in the corner of the room. “I need more makeup.”

I turn her face to me. “I think they’re pretty cool. Better battle scars than mine.”

Wire grins, looking at the floor. Another silence, awkward this time, hangs over us. I hop up, clapping my hands together. Taking in a deep breath, I cross my arms.

Wire looks up at me. “What now.”

I sigh. “Now, we lay low for another day. The body takes a little while to recuperate after the transition.” I watch Wire nod and run her finger over her scars.

I pick up the remote, turning on the TV to a blue screen on every channel. Guess I need a holoscreen. The rest of the day goes by slow. I give Wire a book from the shelf on the wall. She sits at one end of the couch and reads while I take a nap at the other end.

Hours later, I wake to an empty living room. I walk to the window. The car’s still out there. The bedroom door is closed. Maybe she went to sleep on the bed. I turn to the bathroom. Reaching for the knob, the door swings open, and a naked Wire bumps into me and turns around.

I put up my hands. “Oh, I’m sorry. Thought you were asleep in the bedroom.”

Wire talks over her shoulder. “I thought you were still on the couch.”

Wire grabs a towel, wrapping it around herself, and turns to me. I look down at her as she puts her hair behind her ear. I run my finger down her scars. She looks down and away. I put a finger below her chin, bringing her face back to mine. She glances between my lips and eyes as she moves closer to me. Our lips meet. I hold both sides of her face as we kiss. She’s a damn good kisser. I scoop her up, towel and all, and lay her on the bed. She gets my clothes off in record speed. I kiss down her scars to her shoulders as I slide into her. We get tangled up in the sheets, and the next thing I know, it’s morning.

I roll over to an empty bed. Bacon, eggs, and coffee fill my nose. I get dressed and walk into the kitchen to another full plate. We eat side by side in a relaxed, relieved silence. Once we finish eating, we gather our things. I give Wire some of Amy’s old clothes she left here. We load up, Wire driving.

Wire talks, looking ahead. “So, what’re we doing now?”

I look down at her. “Now, we find someone.”

Wire looks over at me. “So, who you lookin’ for?”

I sigh, looking out the windshield. “He was my best friend.” I shake my head. “My Second Lieutenant, Marren Webster. That jackass abandoned me.” I put my elbow against the door, fist to my teeth. “Left me for dead or some shit. I donno. Maybe he was the one to take me to the hospital. Either way, he has some answers I need.”

Wire looks ahead. “Whoa, talk about messed up.” She pauses, cutting her eyes at me. “Why don’t you just Google him?”

I snicker. “That’s still around?”

Wire nods. “Oh, yea. Never left. It’s the internet now.”

I jerk my head to her, scooting around in my seat. “What?”

Wire laughs. “I know it sounds weird to someone your age, but it’s true.”

I just stare at her. “You mean to tell me, Google has taken over the entire internet networking system?”

Wire nods, tightening her lips. “Yepp. No joke. Google started by taking over every search engine, then Apple, then Microsoft, then every internet provider and app producer.”

Eyes wide, I look out the windshield. “Well shit.”

Wire giggles. “Here.” She brings up the Google search page on the dash. “Just type and look.”

I type in Marren Webster. Not much pops up. His old Facebook page, Twitter account, and YouTube channel. Nothing that tells me where he is. As I reach for the close button, a black and green code screen pops up.

Wire slams on the breaks. “Shit. We have to ditch this car.”

I unbuckle myself. “What’s wrong?”

Wire gets out of the car, hanging between it and the door. “I’m so stupid.”

I get out, getting our stuff from the trunk. “Why?”

Wire sighs. “Of course! They wanted you to look for anyone you knew so they could track you. They were waitin’ for you to use Google.” She grabs her bag from me. “We need to get as far away from this car as possible.”

I look at the car. “Can’t we just torch it and let it blow up?”

Wire shakes her head. “It’s electric. We could short circuit it.” She looks at the car. “But it won’t matter, they already have the car’s location.”

I look from her to the car back to her. “Damn.”

Wire nods. “The longer we stay here the faster they catch us.” She turns around. “Besides, I know another way to get what you want.”

I follow Wire down the road. We throw out our thumbs to anyone passing by. A truck stops, letting us sit in the bed.

The driver opens what should be a back glass. “Where to?”

Wire looks him in the eyes. “Just the nearest town with an identification station. We need to renew our SSC’s.”

The man nods, closing the glass. He takes us Northeast to Southaven, MS. The man drops us off at the identification station.

I stop at his window. “Thank you mister.” I shake his hand, slipping him some cash.

The man taps his hat, and drives off. Turning around, I look the station over. Similar to a DMV, the small building gives me a sinking, nauseated feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. Much like the DMV, I don’t want to go any further.

We walk through the sliding doors into a hallway with a number selector and a long line. I look for somewhere to pull a number from the dispenser, finding nothing. Wire sighs, moving in front of me. She puts her wrist under the dispenser. A blue and red light move their way around her wrist, putting a glowing purple number across her skin.

Wire turns to me. “I’ll take care of this. Just tell me the name and how it’s written.”

I grab her arm as she turns around. “How exactly are you going to be able to get this information?”

Wire cuts her eyes at me, pulling my hand from her arm. “I have my ways. How’s his name spelled?”

I look at the head of the line. “M-A-R-R-E-N W-E-B-S-T-E-R”

Wire nods. She throws out a thumb to the chairs on our right. Rolling my eyes, I sit where I can see the head of the line. Not ten minutes later, unlike the DMV, Wire is at the front of the line. She leans over on her crossed arms and talks low to the woman behind the counter. The woman puts what looks like a price scanner up to Wire’s eyes. A red beam crisscrosses all over Wire’s face. The woman nods, looking at her holoscreen computer. Seconds later, she hands Wire a glowing blue stick.

Wire speed walks back to the door, grabbing me in tow. “C’mon. We need to leave now.”

I follow close behind. “What now? How’d you get that stick thing? Is that a flash drive?”

Wire won’t look at me. “It doesn’t matter right now.” She holds out the stick to me, tucking it away in her pocket. “Here’s what you wanted. Now let’s get out of here.”

Wire stands by the highway and puts out her thumb. A car slows, but speeds up when the male driver sees me stand next to her. After an hour of walking through parking lots and next to highways, a trucker lets us board at a truck stop. After he lets us off four hours west, we hide out in the woods. Using the spot light from my pack, I take us far into the woods and set up camp.

Settled with the tent up and fire burning, I toss my hand to Wire. She hands me the stick. I look it over, finding a button on one end. I press it. A holoscreen pops up, showing me tabs similar to browser tabs. The first few tabs are his school records starting at kindergarten finishing with his college transcripts through the military. A small full body picture comes to the front of the screen. Past that is his military record. The last tab is his newest identity. I would never have guessed what the picture would show. The file says he works at Nibbles and Tits strip bar in sunny L.A.

We travel the long distance from Mississippi to L.A. in an uncomfortable silence from truck to truck. It was too easy for her to get his file. I understand secrecy better than anyone, but this is different. I’m starting to distrust her.

We arrive on the outskirts of L.A. I thank the last truck driver, giving him a twenty. Walking into town, we go into the nearest rest stop.

I nod to the guy behind the glass windowed counter. “Hey man, is there a phone I can use?”

The guy nods over to a rack. I look at the sign. “Cell phones. Pay by the minute.” Shrugging, I take two packages off the rack and hand it to the guy.

The guy looks at the boxes. “How many minutes?”

I shrug, shaking my head. “What’s the max?”

The guy sighs. “Haven’t you ever bought a phone before?” I glare at him until he sighs again. “$50 for 5,000 minutes.”

I take out my wallet. “I’ll take that.”

They guy takes my money, giving me the boxes. Walking outside, I open the plastic of one, handing the other to Wire. After all these years, they haven’t found a better way to package shit like this? After using my knife to get it open, I look at Wire. She sighs, rolling her eyes, and configures the phone. She pushes the main piece just above my right ear, between it and my temple. The extended probes press above my eyelid, eyebrow, cheekbone, and jaw line.

Wire steps back. “How does that feel?”

I look at her and shrug. “Okay, I guess. What do I do now?”

Wire crosses her arms. “Voice commands.”

I roll my eye, lacing my fingers. “Call a taxi.”

A female’s voice comes through to my ear. “Calling Marco’s Taxi Service.”

The phone rings, and a man picks up. “Marco’s taxi, how can I help you?”

I bow up, spreading my legs. “Yes sir, I need a taxi to my location, please?”

The man smacks. “On its way.”

The call drops. Within five minutes the taxi pulls up in front of us. Wire doesn’t speak the short ride to the club. We walk inside, setting our stuff against the bar. Strobe lights, neon lights, and glitter fill the building. I walk over to the bar. Spotting Marren’s new identity, I sit on a stool and wait. Wire sits next to me.

Marren walks over, flipping his long hair over his shoulder. “What’ll it be?”

I lean forward, knocking my folded fists on the bar. “I’m looking for Evelyn Webster.”

Marren shrugs his bony shoulders. “Well you found her.” He adjusts his corset, new breasts jiggling. “What do you want?”

I chuckle, leaning back. “I heard you make the best hurricane in three counties.”

Marren grins. “You bet. That what you want?”

I nod. Marren turns around. It’s weird looking at him now. He’s a tall, thin, big-in-every-right-place kinda hot. His black leather pants hug all the right parts. I look at wire. She sits back, getting a lap dance from a woman dressed as a glittery, half-naked, purple squirrel. I smirk. The knock on the bar turns me around to Marren. Piercing green eyes look back at me. I put the hurricane to my lips. The same way he made it back home.

Marren nods to me. “Live up to the rumors?”

I nod. “Perfect.” I take another sip. “When do you get off?”

Marren moves around to other customers while talking. “In an hour.”

I grin. “I’d love to get you off thirty minutes after that.”

Marren laughs. “Is that all it takes?” He nods, grinning. “Back alley. Meet me at the Blue Lexus.”

I grin, drinking the rest of my hurricane, and take in the view of the dance stage. An hour flies by faster than I would’ve thought. I wait for Marren to leave first. Walking past Wire, I pat her shoulder.

I lean down to Wire’s ear. “Follow, but don’t get spotted. Blue Lexus. Back alley.”

Wire nods, paying the dancer. I walk outside through the back door. Marren waits for me, propped up against the car with his hands in the pockets of his bright red coat. He smiles at me. I walk up to him. He spreads his legs. I stand between his knees, inches between us.

Marren grins. “You ready?”

I nod, smirking. “Are you?”

We get into the car. I hope Wire follows close enough. It takes us only twenty minutes to get to Marren’s apartment. Standing just inside, I look around at how womanly he’s become. Floral furniture, nice curtains, a bed full of useless pillows. Marren sits on the foot of the bed. He wiggles his finger at me, biting his lower lip. Just as Marren pulls me between his legs, my phone rings.

I sigh. “Answer.”

Wire’s voice hits my ear. “Where are you? Are you safe?”

I cut my eyes at Marren sitting on the bed. “Yea sis, I’m fine. I made it to town safe. Why don’t you just let yourself in? I’ll be home soon.”

I listen to Wire’s breathing. “What floor?”

I grin at Marren, holding up a finger. “You don’t remember? Third floor, last door on the left. Yea, just go on in and watch some TV for a bit.” I sigh. “End.”

Marren sits on the bed, biting his lower lip, and looks me up and down. “Who was that?”

I chuckle, moving between his legs again. “My sister.”

Marren takes me by the collar, pulling me to him. “We both know you don’t have a sister.”

Marren tightens his grip, pulling me into a head-butt. As I fall back, Wire busts through the door. I rub my forehead, reaching for the gun tucked in the back of my jeans. Wire makes her way into the room. Bullets fly between the two of them. Wire hits Marren in the leg. He falls back, still pointing his gun at us. Marren pulls the trigger again. It clicks four times. He drops the revolver. Regaining my vision, I look at Wire holding out her gun on Marren. Wire walks between Marren and me. I stand, pointing my gun at Marren.

Holding my forehead, I look at Marren. “How’d you know it was me?”

Marren snickers. “You’ve been using that lame pickup line since we met at base camp.”

I roll my eyes, waving my gun at Marren. “Get in a chair.”

Wire rips the cords off some things in the bedroom, bringing them back. I hold my gun on Marren. Looking at Wire, I watch the way she ties his hands. With one hand, she makes sure to keep his hands flat. How would a prostitute know to do that? She does the same with his legs before taking her spot next to me.

I look Marren in the eyes. “What happened that night? Where were you?”

Marren snickers. “I was doing my job. You weren’t supposed to lead that mission, but the perfectionist in you had to make sure it was done right.”

I tighten my grip on my gun. “You killed my men.”

Marren laughs. “They were expendable, who cares?”

My grip tightens even more as I stomp my way to him, hitting him across the cheek with the grip of my gun. Marren’s head whips to his left. He spits blood, licking his lower lip. His long hair sticks to the blood running down his chin. He smiles at me.

Marren giggles. “What happened to your rule about not hitting women?”

I wipe my mouth, looking Marren in the eyes. “We both know you’re no woman.”

Marren locks eyes with Wire. “You’re pretty cute, except for that ugly ass scar.” He giggles. “Watch yourself with him though. He’s known for hittin’ and quittin’. You’re nothing but a hole with a mouth to him.”

Wire steps towards Marren, gun steady. “Can I kill him?”

I cut my eyes at her. “No.”

Wire keeps eye contact with Marren. “Maybe just a little bit?”

Marren looks at me. “She’s got fire. I like her better than Amy.” He looks back at Wire. “Bet she fucks better too.”

I hit him again. “Shut up! Where’s Ruby?”

Marren spits blood across the floor. “Which is it? Shut up or answer your question?”

I roll my eyes. “Answer me.”

Marren grins. “Retired.” He looks at Wire. “Prolly on the other side of the world by now with a model.”

I step closer to Marren. “You’re lying.”

Marren locks eyes with me. “You sure?”

I shoot the wall by the window, putting the gun to his head. “Don’t play games with me. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to die for good this time.”

Marren laughs, spitting more blood. “He really is retired. Died in combat, came back, left his wife, and lives up in Washington. A cabin in the woods. 301 Iwik Road, Redmond.”

I take the gun away from his head, turning to leave. Wire holds my arm. I cut my eyes at her, and she lets go. As we get to the broken down door, Marren stomps his foot. I stop and turn back.

Marren shrugs. “You gonna get me outta this?”

I turn back to the door. “Get yourself out.”

Getting in the newest stolen car, I check my clip. Full clip. I slam it back in. Wire looks over at me. When I don’t say anything, she looks back at the windshield. I put my elbow on the door, fist to my mouth.

Wire looks over at me. “To Washington?” She watches me nod. “You wanna tell me why you didn’t kill him?”

I look out the windshield. “He ain’t worth it.” I cut my eyes at her as she looks ahead. “Since you’re in the mood for questions, you wanna tell me how you know your way around a gun so well?”

Wire shrugs, not making eye contact. “Daddy was a hunter.”

I stare at her for a short moment before looking out the windshield. She’s not telling me something. I’ll find out soon enough. We spend the sixteen-and-a-half-hour trip in a tensed silence between stops. Once we get to Redmond, we let the GPS show us the way to his cabin.

Tucked away on top of a hill, a small cypress cabin sits with smoke rolling from the chimney. We park the car at the bottom of the hill. Taking my pack, we approach the cabin from behind. I knock on the back door. Not long after, a young man with short brown hair and blue eyes answers the door.

The man looks between us. “Can I help you?”

I take a step forward. “Yes, we’re lost. The GPS died about three miles back, and we have no idea where we are.” I look at Wire. “Go camping she said. It’ll be fun she said.” I look back at the man. “Women.” I laugh, hoping he takes the bait.

The man steps aside. “Well, why don’t you two come in out of the cold?” He puts a hand out. “I just made a pot of coffee.”

I smile, stomping my feet on the mat. “Thank you, kindly.”

Wire follows me inside. I set my pack against the wall by the door. Wire makes herself comfy on the couch. No one else is in the cabin. Ruby moves about the kitchen section and brings us cups of black coffee. Wire takes one, holding her bare hands around it. She takes a sip, closing her eyes.

The man cuts his eyes at Wire. “You like it?” He watches her nod. “It’s my own blend.”

I take my cup by the top, putting it to my lips. I know that taste. Shit, he knows it’s me. I should have killed Marren. I put my cup down, but it’s too late. The drug has already started taking effect. The room starts to spin. Wire drops her cup. Coffee splashes everywhere. Wire falls over onto the couch. I try to stand. My knees buckle. Ruby catches me.

Ruby takes the gun from my jeans. “Now, now Whitiker, we can’t have you shootin’ up the place.” He lets the clip fall from the grip and discharges the live round.

Ruby drags us to separate wooden chairs. He ties us up with paracord. After an hour, the drug has left my system, but Wire is still groggy. Ruby sits in front of us, hanging his service weapon between his legs. I look across the room. My and Wire’s guns are on top of my pack.

Ruby tosses his gun about. “Did you really think you would come into my home and get the jump on me?” He snickers. “Really Whitiker? I taught you that ‘I’m lost’ trick.” He drops his gun back between his legs. “Besides, GPS’s don’t die these days.”

I try and hold my head up to look him in the eyes. “Why did you want me and my men dead?”

Ruby shrugs. “You were in the way of my operation. You weren’t even supposed to lead that mission. I never wanted to kill you, but you gave me no choice.” He gets up, walking around the room. “Those P.O.W.’s stumbled on my drug operation. They had to be taken care of.”

I struggle against my ties. “Those were good men you slaughtered!”

Ruby chuckles. “Why do you care? You lived.”

I grind my teeth. “Seventy-three years in prison isn’t living.” I pull against the cord. One of the knots breaks free. “You framed me. You stole my life.”

Ruby laughs. “I stole your life? You’re on your what, third?” He points his gun at me. “No, you have endless lives now, but I could take yours and your girlfriend’s for real right here, right now.” He walks up to me, putting the gun to my head. “What’d’ you say? Wanna die for good this time?”

I wait until he’s right in my face, then I punch his jaw, dropping him to the floor. His gun slide across the room to the far wall. Wire starts to groan awake. She pulls at her ties. I pull the knife from my belt, cutting the rest of my ties. I jump on Ruby just before he gets to his gun. We tumble to the ground. Ruby lands on top of me. I cover my face with my forearms as he keeps trying to land blows. I maneuver myself to where I can wrap my legs around his body, putting him in an arm hold. Ruby tries to break free, but I break his arm. Wire has gotten her hands free somehow and is trying to free her legs. Ruby lies on the floor, holding his arm. I go for the gun, but Ruby comes after me with my knife. He slashes and jabs at me, hugging his left arm to his chest. I dodge the strikes. Putting up my arm, Ruby slices it. I kick him in the gut. He stumbles backwards. Wire trips him with a sweep kick. Ruby falls on his back. Wire puts her foot to Ruby’s throat. There is no way a prostitute would be trained like this. Who is she really? I grab Ruby’s gun. Standing over him, I point his gun at his face.

Ruby looks up at me, grinning. “Come on, do it. We both know you wanna pull that trigger.”

I stare at his new face as Wire digs her foot into his throat. “I hope all this was worth it you bastard.”

Ruby smiles up at me just as I put my finger to the trigger. “You do know your cop friend has been helping you against orders, right?”

I take my finger off the trigger and look at Wire as she cuts her eyes at me. “You’re a cop?”

Wire looks between Ruby and me. “I can explain.”

I take a few steps back, pointing my gun at both of them. “When were you gonna tell me? After you let me commit a felony so I can go back to prison?”

Wire keeps her foot on Ruby. “I’m under cover as a prostitute. I gave you my real name, but I’m not nineteen. I’m twenty-five. Those are they only things I lied about. Besides, my precinct would never blow my cover just to get an escaped convict back. I was supposed to break out after a month and go back to one of the escort services. You were my ticket out early, but I got wrapped up in helping you. I didn’t want to leave you without backup.”

I snicker. “Well how sweet of you.”

Ruby laughs. “You two didn’t?” He pauses, looking between us and smiles. “You did!” He chokes out laughs as Wire’s boot presses down harder. “Good for you man!”

I roll my eyes, shooting the floor by his head. “Shut up Ruby.”

Wire tears up, looking at me. “I really wanted to tell you. I just didn’t know how. I’m sorry.” She looks down at Ruby. “Wait, how did you know?”

Ruby shrugs. “You have a tattoo of your precinct number on the inside of your right ring finger. I have a friend in that precinct.”

Wire rolls her eyes, dropping her shoulders. “You’ve got to be joking.”

When she drops her shoulders, her foot comes off Ruby’s neck just enough for him to turn and grab at her ankle. Wire drops to the floor. Ruby scrambles behind the couch as I open fire. Somehow, Ruby gets to the room behind the kitchen. I stop shooting. Wire and I take cover in the hallway around the corner. The next sound is a clip clicking into another gun. I check my rounds. Ten left. I look around the corner. Ruby lets loose with his Glock 19 at us. I move back out of sight. He stops shooting. I turn and fire three rounds. He returns fire.

Wire rolls her eyes, looking at the Berretta in my hand. “You dinosaurs and your primitive weapons.”

Wire stands up, pulling down her pants, and peels back a huge chunk of fake skin from her thigh. How did I miss that every time we did it? She pulls a small gun-like object from the blob. Stepping over me, she walks right out into the line of fire. I turn and watch. Ruby shoots at her, but Wire keeps walking. She points the gun at Ruby and pulls the trigger. The gun sounds like Iron man while a Star Wars beam makes its way through the air. The beam hits Ruby right in the shoulder. Ruby flies back into the kitchen cabinets, landing slumped on the floor. I get up, making my way over to them. Wire walks over to him, kicking his weapon away. We stand in front of Ruby. I stare at the small, smoking hole still burning away at his shirt. Blood dribbles down Ruby’s chin. He smiles up at me, then looks at Wire.

Ruby coughs out his words. “You got me partner.” He chokes out a laugh. “You did good kid. Too bad it wasn’t a head shot.”

Wire looks at me, handing me her gun. “I’ll let you have the honors.”

I shake my head, and Ruby chuckles. “You know, you always were my favorite soldier. You never backed down, never gave up, and always obeyed orders.” He coughs again. “You could join me. The men I work with have plenty of space for someone like you.” He looks around. “With them, you could have a cabin of your own where you two could live out peaceful lives off the grid.” He takes a ragged breath. “All you have to do is walk away, otherwise this is just the beginning for you. Kill me and there will be hell to pay.” He looks me over. “What’d’ ya say kid?”

I chuckle, holding up Ruby’s Berretta, and look at him. “I say go to hell you prick.”

Before Ruby can get out a grunt, I shoot him between the eyes. His body falls limp against the cabinet corner. His eyes stare off into the void. The room gets quiet. Birds sing outside the windows. The sun shines bright against the thin layer of snow on the back porch. I wipe the gun down, putting Ruby’s hand around it, and toss it to the floor. Walking to the back door, I stop and put my gun back together and tuck it in my jeans. I look at Wire standing across the room, and toss her the gun I gave her.

Wire looks at her hands. “You still trust me?”

I shrug. “You may have lied about what you do, but you’re still a person I trust.”

Wire smirks, putting the gun in the back of her pants. “Where to now?”

I put the pack on my shoulders, opening the back door. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

Wire shrugs. “You could always kill me and we could run away together.”

I grin. “It’s your choice.”

We walk back to the car. Wire starts the car, but leaves it in park. She looks at me and sighs.

I look back at her. “What?”

Wire turns toward me. “I want to.”

I toss out my hand to her. “To what?”

Wire crosses her arms. “To die and run away with you.”

I laugh. “You’re serious?”

Wire nods. “Like a heart attack.”

I can’t help but laugh more. “Why?”

Wire shrugs. “I guess I kinda like you enough to build a new life.” She grins. “You can use Ruby’s social, and I’ll find an inactive one from before the rejuvenation phase that they won’t realize it’s fake.”

I laugh again, adjusting myself in my seat. “You really want to do this don’t you?” I watch her nod. “Okay. How do you want to die?”

Wire studies the steering wheel. “It’s gonna hurt no matter what, right?” She watches me nod. “Well, just shoot me through the heart.”

I chuckle to myself. “Well, okay then.” I point to the cabin. “Go back inside.”

We go back into the house and clean up. I drab Ruby’s body deep into the woods and bury him. Going back into the house, I have Wire strip to her underwear and lie on the floor. Taking my gun, I put it to her heart.

I look Wire in the eyes. “You ready?” She nods, closing her eyes. “Here goes nothin’.”

I shoot her in the heart. Her body jolts, and eyes open. Her hands fall from her chest to the floor. Blood pools around her. Within a few seconds, she’s dead. Minutes later, her body jolts. She writhes, mouth opening and closing. Once her lungs start working again, she screams out. Her body contorts, bones and muscles changing. I watch the clock. Thirty minutes have gone by and she’s still changing. All her brown hair falls out. It grows back long and red. Her dainty figure fills out to wide hips, bigger breasts, and long legs. Another thirty minutes go by. Her screams subside, breathing growing normal. Wire’s body lies still, and she looks at the ceiling. She doesn’t move for another fifteen minutes. I jump when she cuts her new hazel eyes at me.

I put my hand to her left cheek, and she grabs my hand. “Am I ugly?” She pauses. “Am I still a girl?

I laugh. “Yes, and you’re beautiful.”

Wire runs her fingers along her cheek. “They’re still there.”

I shrug. “Good.” She smiles at me, and I smile back. “Wanna see what you look like?”

Wire nods. I help her up and to the bathroom. She looks herself over in amazement. While she gets to know her new self in the shower, I rummage through Ruby’s files for his social. After digging for hours, I finally find a document with it written. Writing it down on a separate piece of paper, I get Wire dressed.

Wire looks at the social in my hand. “Where’s mine?”

I grin, and write down another number. “My mother’s number. She died before I turned eighteen and didn’t come back. I never reported her as dead. That’s how I still have the pink house under her maiden name.” I pause, looking at the number. “You can have it.”

Wire looks up at me, mouth open. She takes the slip of paper, and we leave for the closest identification station.

Wire and I stand in line together with consecutive numbers on our wrists. When it gets to me, I slide the social to the woman.

The woman raises and eyebrow to me. “What happened?”

I clear my throat. “I died and lost my card all in the same day.”

The woman grunts like she’s heard that one before. “Our DNA scanner is down for maintenance today. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” She looks up at me, crossing her hands between her oversized breasts and the holokeypad.

I sigh through a smile, looking down at the desk, and knock a few times before looking back at her. “I really need this done today. Isn’t there some way you can bypass the scanners until then?”

She purses her lips, dropping her shoulders, and looks around as she leans forward, voice low. “They don’t like for us to do this, but there is an override form you can fill out.”

I hit my fingertips on the edge of the counter on my side. “Perfect!” She shushes me, and I laugh. “Sorry, and I’m sorry for this too. Ima need two of those forms.” I point behind myself. “She was with me when we were in our fishing boat and got attacked by sharks.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “You’re the third case of shark attack this week. Those damn scientists need to reign in their experiments.” She sighs, taking the social, and types on her holokeypad while looking at her computer’s holoscreen.

The woman looks at me. “Our records show you died six years ago of a gunshot to the chest. Is that correct?”

I grin. “Yes, ma’am it is.”

She grunts again, typing some more. Within five minutes of filling out both forms, I have a new security card and I.D. I walk back to Wire, giving her a summation of our demise, and she walks up to the counter. The woman does the same for Wire with my mom’s social.

The woman looks at Wire. “We don’t have any record of you dying recently. You would have been over one hundred years old a month ago.”

Wire nods. “That’s right, I just celebrated my one hundred and sixteenth birthday. Died yesterday celebrating with a nice day out on the boat when the sharks got after us.”

The woman purses her lips, looking her over, and grunts at her. “Well, happy late birthday.”

The woman turns back to her holoscreen, typing yet again. She gives Wire a new security card and I.D.

Just as we turn to leave, the woman holds up her hand. “Hold on.”

All I can think is shit. She knows something’s wrong. Something didn’t line up, and now we’re caught. I look at Wire, turning back to the counter, and prop onto my elbow with a grin, and shake my head.

The woman crosses her arms, leaning back in her creaking chair. “We will be sending a home kit for your DNA. If we don’t get that kit back within a week from arrival, you will be sought after and prosecuted for forgery.” She eyes us both, sucking her teeth. “Other than that, you two have a nice evening.”

Wire and I look at her, offering nods and grins of understanding, and turn away from her. We walk out of the station, looking at our I.D.’s.

I cut my eyes at Wire. “So, what now?”

Wire taps her I.D. on her hand. “Let’s go to our new home.”

I chuckle. We walk to the car, heading back to our cabin in the woods.