Chapter 12:

On the road

Cybernetic Dreaming or The Allure of Overcoming Humanity


"They're gone," Mary said.

Jonathan took the trouble to turn around to check with his own eyes, though of course he didn't doubt his teammate's judgment. There was nothing to doubt.

It was either they were just there or they weren't.

Under other circumstances, one would have thought that perhaps there were hidden enemies, secretly following them.

A small force, to make things easier.

But under these circumstances it wasn't worth thinking about, it would be nothing more than paranoia. Because the "robots" didn't retain enough humanity to employ such tactics.

If they had left Max alive to give them orders, maybe.

Just maybe.

But of Max there was literally no trace left in this world. He didn't know what they had done, but they had finished what he started, tearing the other half apart.

Probably one of Jamie's staff explosions, which released fine dust full of nanomachines and caused an explosive reaction. Sometimes with the environment. Sometimes with what they were charged with. Or a bit of both.

Costly, difficult to maintain, but effective.

The most powerful weapon in this world.

No, he corrected himself, looking down at the Pistol resting in his lap. It was already only second best.

Jonathan turned again, looking down the road, saying nothing. Jamie was behind the wheel. Roxy at his side.

He ached all over. He raised his hands to rub his eyes.

"I guess they don't want to stray too far from their territory," Roxy said.

Talking about them as animals was correct. Yes, he supposed that's all they were. He didn't think they had enough humanity left in them to realize that they could never outrun the car, no matter how inhuman they were.

"What do we do now? "Jamie asked.

"Forget this ever happened. We're in enough trouble as it is," Mary said.

"Yeah, definitely," Jonathan added uselessly, his head down. Staring at the Pistol.

The most powerful weapon in the world... only, when push came to shove, it had only worked up to a point.

How many? He'd lost count.

Three shots, four? And now it was useless?

That would relieve him if he thought the government was going to stop chasing them or wanting them dead just because of that. Sadly, he very much doubted that was the case. Just as he doubted that his not being able to fire a moment ago was more than a glitch, or something temporary.

He had no idea how this thing worked " a battery that had to be charged, just like any car?

Maybe. Something like that, at any rate.

The only problem would be that it wouldn't passively regenerate, but would need something special. A specific power source. Or a device they hadn't stolen, because they hadn't had a fucking clue what they were getting into and now they didn't have much clearer ideas to tell the truth.

Jonathan felt like screaming. Or to bang his head against the seat in front of him, to tell the truth.

One or the other.

Something.

Mary accessed the terminal. She glanced at the screen of the device mounted on her wrist. He saw that he was looking for...

The coordinates of this site. Surely to report on this.

It hadn't occurred to him, he was still too... shaken by everything that had happened, but it was a good idea. They were a group of mercenaries. Not heroes.

Jonathan had never had any such illusions. He knew they had done terrible things for money.

Trivial things like compunction or morality wouldn't get you very far in the mercenary world. Although, of course, they had lines they never crossed.

For example, hurting children....

No, he couldn't say that. There was one time.

Jonathan once killed a little boy's parents... to free him from their abuse. Sure it hurt him a lot then, but in the long run he would thank him for it. Jonathan knew because he had been in the same situation. He knew because he had wished for a long time that someone had done the same for him.

And even if the boy still hated him, convinced that he had taken something from him (people had a tendency to delude themselves when the loved ones who hurt them were dead), he was okay with it.

Jonathan had saved him. He had given the boy that better place his sister had gone looking for.

He had no regrets.

Back to the subject, though. Once inside, once they had accepted the mission, they would see it through to the end no matter what.

But first they had to get them in.

There was nothing forcing them to accept any contract, no matter what sum they were willing to pay them.

In any case, yes... they weren't heroes. But this was bigger than them. Jonathan didn't want him or his group to have any more to do with it, but sending the government dogs to wipe this dead settlement off the map and put the people out of their misery was the least they could do.

Their responsibility as human beings.

Jonathan leaned back in the seat, tilting his head far back. That is, toward the ceiling. His eyelids were heavy, but he forced himself to keep them open.

They were out of that hellish place. The worst was over. However, he didn't exactly feel like celebrating. Partly because they had a sword hanging over their heads.

Partly because he was worn out, and had absolutely no energy for anything.

Fuck, his legs were still shaking.

"Jonathan... How are you?" Jamie asked. Since she was behind the wheel, she couldn't look at him while she was talking. Well. Obviously. "And what exactly happened before? I've never seen anything like that."

Speaking of not having the energy, he didn't have the energy to talk about it, and he didn't want to, to be honest. But he couldn't just keep quiet. He sighed.

Whatever, Jonathan thought. Whatever.

"Well... It's hard to explain." And it wasn't a lie. "I.... I fell unconscious, and I saw memories. My whole life flashed before my eyes."

"As if you were dying?"

Jonathan was surprised, but it didn't take him long to realize what she really meant by that. He was a little off, but not that much. He wasn't an idiot.

"No, literally. My whole life..."

A relatively short life, but full of misery. Jonathan had even remembered things he hadn't even told his family, this family. Things he'd rather forget.

But in one way or another, such horrible things had a great influence on one. They took root inside people's hearts and eventually, sooner or later, they came back.

Now he knew it.

Jonathan hadn't thought about such things for so long. About his sister...

As if he had become a different person. But now those things consumed his thoughts.

Maybe he had known all along that this was inevitable.

Jonathan shook his head.

He was too absorbed in his thoughts. He had to concentrate, the sooner he got this shit over with, the better. Then he could close his eyes. And truly allow himself to rest.

"When the cascade of memories ended, he was there. Max. He told me he'd drag me with him to hell. That it wasn't real, but he could kill me anyway, implicitly. And I believed him. I defeated him in that kind of mental space. He also told me..."

They didn't need to know at all.

For them to have to know, when had they finally escaped and washed their hands of this after sending the coordinates and information to the government?

Jonathan really didn't need to worry them with the information that bastard had given him.

He couldn't even be sure Max had told the truth, come on.

He had accepted it, first because he didn't think he was lying to him and second because it fit his thoughts. But it wasn't like he'd seen anything, and it didn't make much sense. Like, how did you do that to a human being?

It had to be something new.

But no, no, those were just excuses.

It was the truth. Jonathan knew it, deep down inside. It was the truth. They had entered an undead settlement, controlled by the will of a psychopath. Human beings reduced to robots.

And they deserved him to be honest, at least in this.

Yes, at least. He couldn't deny that he felt guilty for continuing to hide his past from them, when they had been so open.

That was a part of his decision about telling the truth even though there was no need. But only part of it.

He simply believed it was the right thing to do.

So he dropped the bombshell.

"Those weren't robots. Or they weren't always. He turned them into those things."

There was silence.

"God," Mary mumbled, horrified. Yes, what else was there to say?

So many innocent lives used as if they were trash, wills corrupted, when their only crime had been to seek a life outside the oppressive establishment.

And all for what, so that Max could reign over a ghost town?

The horror and yet triviality, if Jonathan was right about the motive of his actions, chilled the blood in his veins.

It wasn't something he wanted to think about. He felt dirtier just doing it. In any case, the son of a bitch had deserved his fate.

He just wished Max had suffered more.

"Yeah. Crazy shit," Jonathan said. "Can't catch a break, huh?"

"You don't say, but..." Jamie replied hesitantly. It wasn't strange to see her insecure, as harsh as that thought might sound, but there was something in her voice that he didn't like at all.

Something's wrong, it made him think.

"What is it, Jamie?"

He was going to go on. To say something like, "You can tell me anything," but he didn't get the chance.

Because she abruptly, for some reason, pulled the car off the road and parked it to the side.

"Huh? "Roxy exclaimed, clutching one hand on the dashboard.

Jamie opened the door. Stupidly, Jonathan wondered what for, but of course what she did was get out of the vehicle.

But it just didn't make sense. He couldn't make sense of her behavior, no matter how hard he tried. As a result, his heart was racing.

What could be happening to make her act like this?

Had the robots followed them, after all?

No, if he had realized that she wouldn't have stopped the car. Nor would she have gotten out of it. Jamie would simply have stepped on the pedal even harder.

So... what was going on? Because there had to be an explanation.

"What's going on? You're scaring us," Roxy said.

That too.

That she was keeping quiet, for some reason. It was all strange, but especially that.

Jamie didn't move far away. She opened his door, leaning against it. Immediately she bent her knees slightly to bring herself to his eye level.

She looked back at him.

Had they just gotten out of one good mess and were already in another? He hoped not. Or that it wasn't too serious, at least.

They deserved a fucking break.

They always had, but especially in these last few weeks.

He didn't like what he saw in her eyes. He'd be capable of doing or deciding anything to reassure her.

"What's wrong? "she repeated. "I wanted to ignore it, because it's so obvious that you don't want us to notice. But I care about you. I'm sorry, but you understand me, don't you?

At last he got something that sounded like an answer. It only sounded like it, but hey, at least it was progress. Any kind of progress, no matter how small, was valid and he would gladly accept it.

Jamie had asked him a question, at last.

Unfortunately he couldn't answer it positively. Jonathan was trying with everything he had, but she wasn't being very clear. Maybe he was stupidly overlooking something obvious.

"What are you talking about?"

Jonathan decided to be direct, after all.

"You were there when I needed you most. If it weren't for you, I'd...."

Her legs trembled, just like his.

Jamie trembled, even her throat, as she swallowed her saliva. The intensity of her emotion made him happy, deviously so, because he knew she was worrying about him. But mostly it scared him.

He couldn't say he'd never seen her like this. But it had been a long time since the last time. That was when the world had almost literally fallen apart on her.

What could be happening to make it comparable to that?

Jamie pointed at herself from head to toe, with both hands.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I wouldn't be me, even if I was. You know I owe you everything, and…" She faltered, her eyes filling with tears.

Oh, please. Don't talk like that. Don't make that face. Or you'll make me cry too.

Jonathan still didn't understand why she was so worried about him, but now he understood something, at least. His expression softened. He reached out a hand toward her, stroking her face.

"No, Jamie. No. You're beautiful." It would be hard for him to say something like that to any of the others, but to Jamie... Well, it was just different. You always have been. And I know you would have found your way, sooner or later.

It was no lie.

At least, Jonathan didn't see it as a lie. Surely Jamie herself wouldn't be so convinced.

But that didn't make it any less true.

She was the strongest person he'd ever met.

"Regardless, I want to be there for you. What did you see, Jonathan?"

Ah.

So that's what it was all about, after all. He supposed he should have figured it out and had no right to be surprised or upset by the revelation.

But how had Jamie realized he had lied, or at least not told the whole truth? She was right, but what had made her think that?

Jonathan supposed the woman simply knew him well enough.

And what could he tell her? The truth, after all this time keeping his past to himself? Years and years.

"Why do you have that look on your face? I... I... I recognize it. You can't fool me."

Jonathan looked away.

He simply had to, though naturally it was like admitting she was right.

"Jonathan!"

She was desperate to hear the truth. To be able to help him. Her concern wasn't self"serving; it was concern for him.

Of course. Of course.

He already knew he could count on her, all of them. That they were his family. So why was it making such an impression on him? Why couldn't he even meet her gaze?

"If... If I have to get down on my knees, beg, I will. But let me help you."

That was all she wanted. To help him.

He had to remember that, even though this would do anything but help him. Or maybe it would? Maybe it would help him to finally talk to someone about this?

For Jamie and the others, at least, it had helped them. And he had been the one to listen to them. So this was the fair thing to do, was it?

This was the way things had to be?

"All right. You win. It's not the best place or time, but I think the moment has come."

They all got out of the car. He still couldn't walk very steady, but he didn't have to. Jonathan just got out and held onto the car with one hand to keep his balance.

He had said Jamie won, and it was true. He had no intention of taking it back.

First of all, he asked everyone to not interrupt him until the end. Because if they did, he wasn't sure he'd have the courage to start up again.

It was too great a weight.

Letting go would perhaps make him walk lighter. Or maybe he'd end up crushed in the process, because it wasn't easy at all.

He didn't know. He couldn't know. But his mind was made up.

If he was anything, at least he had made up his mind.

Jonathan finished telling the story. It dragged on for him, but it didn't really take that long. Also including the long pauses he took. By the way, they respected the promise they had made to him and didn't interrupt him even then.

He finished, and the silence grew longer. Of course.

It was very difficult to find the words in a situation like this. It was very difficult...

"Have you ever thought about doing the same thing as your sister?" Jamie asked.

But she did. Words like a punch in the stomach.

"How do you ask that! "Mary said. She understood her indignation and surprise, however, she also understood why Jamie had asked that question in the first place.

He decided to continue his streak of honesty, with that in mind.

"Yes." One word, one word. Ah, but how hard it was for him to tear from the back of his throat, how hard.

Did he feel good after admitting it, albeit with some reluctance?

He couldn't say, really.

He couldn't say if it felt good or bad. Just... strange. That was the only word he could think of to describe the feeling.

Jamie clenched his fists. It was impossible to miss, even before they began to shake from the strength... and the pent-up rage in them.

"I'm so sorry that a wonderful person like you had to go through all...that. But I also feel ashamed."

Ashamed? Once again, she had him completely baffled. What was that all about?

It wasn't that he was averting his eyes from something obvious that he simply didn't want to accept. He really had no idea, this time.

"So many years together, and you never told me."

Ah.

That was all he could think. Ah. Like a fool.

"You've always been there for me, but I've never been able to return the favor, not with what really counts." Jamie stepped away from the vehicle, approaching him, gesturing with her arms energetically. There was so much passion in her voice that she practically spat out everything she said. "Did you think it would be useless to tell someone like me?"

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

How could she think that? The others said nothing, kept to themselves. Better. This was something between the two of them. And anything they might have said, in their defense or in Jamie's defense, would surely have only made things worse.

Besides, they surely didn't even know what to say.

He'd never seen Jamie so angry. That much he could say for sure. Never.

"No. Please, Jamie. The past is the past. That's why... I saw no reason to bring it up. That's all there is to it."

"If it was in the past, you wouldn't have that face."

Again with the face thing. Jonathan bit his lower lip hard. But she was right, of course. All that had happened years ago, but it hadn't passed.

Jonathan hadn't been able to bring closure to that stage of his life. All he had gotten was a dead sister and a life on the streets. For all he knew, his "parents" could be living happily after being relieved of the burdens that were their children.

So it was only natural that he couldn't keep his cool. But it hadn't been that long since he had been forced to relive his past and had almost lost his life. Even if he had really gotten over it a long time ago, it would have affected him anyway. An experience like that could shock anyone.

But he would get over it.In time, he would get over it. If he was anything, he was a survivor.

"You're right, but..."

"But what?" Jamie demanded, defiantly.

Jonathan clasped his hands together, squeezing hard.

But what? Yes, good question. He knew that, not that he was drawing a blank, but what to say was only the first part. How to say it was harder.

"I'm not wrong either." Yes, no one was wrong, no one had done anything wrong here. "I was bringing you together, little by little... helping... And it's going to sound selfish, but in the process I felt better."

He did.

By bringing a family together, helping people in desperate situations like his, he had rebuilt himself.

Jonathan had been nothing more than a broken toy, with no home, no purpose, no nothing.

But he had become a real person through the formation of this group. A different person, or so he had thought. The roots of the past were still deeply embedded in his heart.

He assumed they might never leave. But...

"I came to feel that I had put all that behind me. That I wasn't even the same person. I'm a little shaken right now, but it'll pass.

"Just like that? "Jamie asked. Defiant, again. She couldn't take no for an answer.

And he couldn't blame her, because she believed she was doing the best thing for one of the most important people to her. Because she believed she was returning the favor.

This wasn't returning the favor, though.

As Jonathan had mentioned before, he felt strange. He didn't blame her, since he had made the decision, he and no one else. But he felt strange. Like he had bugs under his skin. He almost wanted to scratch himself until he drew blood, hoping to get that thing out that was disturbing him.

"I think you're being too direct," Mary interjected, finally. "But it's true that I don't think things are that easy either, Jonathan."

Her eyes seemed to be saying to him, "You helped us. Let us help you now."

I know, he thought. I know, but...

It's not that easy.

"One way or another, I.... "He got stuck at that point, for long enough that he feared he wouldn't start up again. But in the end he got it. "I guess I'm not the kind of person who feels better telling what's going on with him."

It wasn't a lie.

He could only say that he felt strange, he couldn't identify what he felt, give it a name. But still, a strange feeling was anything but pleasant, wasn't it?

So that was more than enough reason to say that he wasn't that kind of person. For better or worse.

"I'd rather help others instead. Like then. I think that's the best thing you can do for me. Don't talk about it and let me be."

Still, he only said "I think."

"How can you know that's the best thing to do when you've never tried anything else?" Jamie asked. That felt like a slap in the face. No, worse, it knocked the wind out of him.

"I..."

Now he was really drawing a blank. True, he wasn't that kind of person. But was it because he was born that way, plain and simple?

Or because he had never tried? Because he had never learned?

Jonathan sighed deeply, ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't want to talk about this." He added quickly: "Please."

"Okay." The one who said that was Roxy. Jamie was the one who worried him the most, because she was the one who had insisted from the first moment. Not her. Still, he was relieved to get an answer.

"Yes," Mary said, nodding her head.

Jamie turned to them, his expression showing her emotional conflict.

"Girls..."

"What do you want us to do?" Roxy said.

She hadn't said it, but the rest of the sentence was clear - what you think is best or what he thinks is best? It was a harsh thing to say, and it felt wrong, but it was enough to convince Jamie. At least for the moment.

She remained silent.

Slowly, shrouded in that silence, they got back into the vehicle. Jamie didn't sit back in the driver's seat. Didn't feel like driving.

After a while, they resumed their journey.

On the way, along the road...

Jamie burst into tears. She did her best to avoid it, shrinking in on herself, stifling her sobs. But it was too small a space for him to overlook, for anyone to overlook.

Besides, he knew her.

How could he not see when she was suffering? He could almost say he sensed it. Not with her specifically, with all of them.

Jonathan reached out a hand toward her shoulder. Thinking, of course, to comfort her.

They were like family. And that was what family should do. Or good friends. But his hand didn't reach her. Before it could, he dropped it.

Why?

Well, because he felt he had no right to comfort her.

He was the reason for her tears, after all.

Later, a while after Jamie finally calmed down, the television between the front seats suddenly turned on. On its own.

"What the fuck?" Jonathan mumbled.

A face appeared on the screen, silhouetted against the static covering it.

It wasn't a human face.

That was the first time they ever saw the cybernetic god.

A demon, that was the first thing that crossed his mind when he saw it. It had to be a demon.

Its eyes swam in a sea of black. Eyes that glittered like gold, literally. His skin was extremely pale, like that of a corpse, except for the golden markings that ran down his chest and arms.

He was naked from the waist up, so the markings were clearly visible unobstructed.

As were the ribs, which were marked against his skin like shadows of swords.

He had the feeling that (if he could touch it, of course) he would feel it as cold as a corpse. At first he thought there were marks of blood, or perhaps tears, on his cheeks. But then he realized that they were strange black grooves.

Like wounds inflicted by a knife. Wounds that hadn't healed.

And this was harder to describe, more subtle. But there was something about the head that made his hair stand on end, that affected him above all else.

Something inhuman.

Yes, it didn't look human at all. What the hell was that?

And more importantly, how had it accessed the car's display, why?

"It doesn't matter who I am. All that matters is that you have something I want." Even his voice was anything but human. Jonathan did his best to suppress a shudder.

Evidently it wasn't smart to show weakness, even though they could be miles and miles apart.

What was this now?

A government agent? He'd never seen such a thing, but of course, they kept a lot secret. Like the Pistol that was still on his lap, making him feel safe just by touching him.

What was this monster compared to the Pistol's secrecy?

Since its appearance, they were standing in the middle of the road again, of course. It had been a sudden scare, but fortunately they hadn't had any accidents.

"Oh, yeah? What's that about?" Jonathan asked, though he was sure by now, regardless of who this guy was or who he worked for.

Assuming he worked for anyone.

The thing inside the screen held out a hand, and Jonathan stepped back unconsciously. As if fearing that its hand might reach through the glass and reach him, as if what separated them was just a window. How ridiculous.

But he couldn't help that the son of a bitch was intimidating. He'd never seen anything like it. It wasn't his fault.

It wasn't his fault, but he had to do better. Keep his composure.

"That, of course. You killed one of my henchmen with that. And you put a dent in a small part of my army."

Now he couldn't suppress the shudder.

"What did you say?"

"How is that possible?" Roxy asked. We practically just got out of that settlement. "And we killed him. Like you said, we..."

"We are connected," the monster said, plainly and simply, with an expression of pure contempt. Perhaps offended that she had interfered in the conversation, for some reason. "I don't want to waste my time. A god doesn't have to waste it. You have something I want, Jonathan. And so do I."

"Yeah?" he said cautiously.

"Indeed. I have what you want most in this world."

The thing pulled something up. Chains clanked noisily, but Jonathan forgot about that, forgot about everything, even breathing. Yes, it wasn't an exaggeration.

That monster had exactly what he wanted most in this world.

From the screen, his older sister was staring back at him with milky eyes, as if half asleep.

Lucianael
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