Max Collins - Skin Game

Cindy thought about running, but the transgenic still held the stun rod in his other hand and she didn’t trust her achy body and throbbing skull.

They reached the intersection — to their right lay Terminal City; to the left, Logan’s building. Automatically, she turned right.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She turned back to face him. “Terminal City. Isn’t that where you wanna go, Bobby?”

He tossed the beam of the flashlight down the corridor to the left. “What’s up there?”

“How should I know?” she asked, her tone bitchy. “Do I look like a freakin’ tour guide? You wanna join your brothers and sisters, or what?”

On the ride over, Original Cindy had decided that the best course of action was to simply march this freak into Terminal City and let Max kick his sorry ass.

The bland face stared her down. “I think you’re lying to me. I think you know what’s down that direction. Do you think I’m stupid?”

She gave him the finger. “I think you should sit and spin.”

Bobby took a step closer to her and raised the stun rod. “Would you like to sit and spin on this?”

Though designed to stun, those rods could be lethal — she knew — if application was prolonged. And how long was too long, well, that was an issue she didn’t particularly want to research.

She smirked sourly. “Leads to a pad Logan’s got.”

The kid-on-Christmas-morning smile on Bobby’s otherwise blank face told Cindy that she had just revealed the piece of information that Bobby most wanted to learn...

She had to get away from this sick fuck and warn Max, and tell her Logan might be in danger.

So she took the right turn and started running, fleeing into the blackness of the tunnel...

... making it only a few steps before the pain in her head distorted her balance, and she went down.

She was about to scream for Max when she saw a blue spark in her peripheral vision, and white hot shards of pain shot through her every fiber.

She couldn’t talk or move.

Original Cindy just lay there, shaking violently, an epileptic having a hell of a fit, the pain greater than any she’d felt in her whole life. She only hoped that she would die soon.

Eventually, gratefully, she passed out.

When she came to, Original Cindy found herself tied to a straight-back wooden chair in Logan’s apartment. Bobby had lashed her wrists and ankles to the chair and run a strip of duct tape over her mouth. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled “Mmmmmm!”

He had placed her so she faced the door that opened to the staircase below. Turning her head as far as she could in either direction, she looked for Bobby but couldn’t see him. Either he was gone or he was directly behind her. She listened as closely as she could, but all she heard was the pounding of her own heart.

Trying to break free was useless.

Though she strained against her bonds, she made no progress. Finally giving up, she stared at the doorknob and waited. It didn’t take long before she saw the knob turning. She tried, but the tape over her mouth kept her from screaming for help.

Terrible elongated seconds passed before the door opened, and she was surprised to see the federal agent she’d seen at Jam Pony a few weeks ago. She hadn’t really caught his name — Gott-something?

Whoever he was, now he stood in the doorway, his hands behind his back, his mouth open in surprise as he saw her rocking from side to side in the chair. Over his shoulder she could just make out Logan’s freedom fighter friend, Asha.

They both came into the room, Asha with a pistol drawn and when she saw Original Cindy, the gun seemed to leap up in front of her face, both arms outstretched.

Then Bobby stepped forward from behind Asha. He’d blended into the wall and when Asha turned back to face Original Cindy, he made his move.

Sticking out her chin, gesturing with her eyes, Original Cindy tried to signal Asha that Bobby was behind her... but to no avail.

Cindy watched in horror as the stun rod touched Asha’s back. The gun leapt from her hand and she wilted to the floor in convulsions. The fed turned and tried to kick out at Bobby, but he succeeded only in providing the transgenic with an easier target. Hitting the agent’s leg with the stun rod, Bobby sent him writhing to the floor as well.

Bobby shut the door and dragged the wriggling figures off and out of sight.

And, minutes later, the door opened again.

Logan led the way inside this time, a bearded, wasted-looking man in a black suit trailing behind him. They both froze when they saw her...

... and again Bobby struck!

He touched the man in the black suit with the stun rod and he went down whimpering, doing the electric dance.

Logan dodged the first thrust of the stun rod and backed into the room, trying to put distance between himself and his attacker. Almost immediately, though, he started talking to Bobby in a cool, calm voice, and Original Cindy was reminded that one of her favorite things about Logan was his courage.

“Whoa — what’s the problem here?” Logan held his hands up, palms out in a stop gesture as he backed away.

“I have to remove you.”

“Remove me?”

Bobby moved closer but Logan kept backing away, keeping the distance about the same.

“I have to replace you.”

“Remove or replace me?... Who are you? What did I do to you?”

They wove around furniture in a slow, deadly cat-and-mouse game.

“I’m Bobby Kawasaki, Logan — you used to see me at Jam Pony... or maybe you didn’t notice me.”

“Can’t say I ever did. My bad.”

“The name they used to call me at Manticore was Kelpy.”

“You... you’re a transgenic?” Logan asked.

Seizing the doubt in the moment, Bobby lunged at him with the stun rod, just missing as Logan pitched to the right, the rod sparking angrily when it banged off a table.

“Bobby — I’m trying to help the transgenics...”

“You’re not helping me.”

“I’m not?”

“No! You stand between me and Max.”

Tipping over her chair, Original Cindy fought to get loose. She saw the look of confusion on Logan’s face.

“Between you... and Max?”

“I need your face!”

“My...?”

Bobby lunged again, and this time Logan tripped on a rug and fell; but it still served the purpose, the stun rod missing him.

“Logan!” someone yelled.

On her side, on the floor, still bound to the chair, Original Cindy turned to see Joshua piling through the door, Alec and Sketchy right behind him. Hope swelled in her chest and she thought that maybe they might get through this all right, after all...

Spinning, Bobby hurled the stun rod at them. Joshua went right, Alec left, and Sketchy stood stock-still as the rod handle hit him in the chest and dropped him to the floor in a quivering mass.

Whirling back, Alec picked up the stun rod and turned toward Bobby. Original Cindy looked back too and felt her newfound hope drain away. Before them stood Logan, and Bobby, who had a knife to Logan’s throat, Bobby partially crouched behind him, using the taller man as a shield.

“Move and he dies,” Bobby said, his voice raspy with emotion.

“All right,” Alec said. “Just stay calm.”

Bobby said, “Fuck calm — we’re leaving. Try to stop us, he dies.”

Motionless on the floor, Original Cindy watched as the transgenic pushed Logan slowly toward the door; something was strange, really weird — Bobby was changing, sort of morphing, but gradually, so subtle you almost didn’t notice...

Bobby’s back was to her now, as he kept Logan between himself and the others. A trembling Sketchy was sitting up, hands to his chest where the rod had struck. Between the intertwined legs of Logan and Bobby, Original Cindy had the perfect vantage point to see that Sketchy was moving his camera up ever so slowly.