Prologue
January 28^th, 47 A.R.

 

A.R. = Years After Resurgence

 

The snow fell lightly around the wooded swamp as dusk quickly approached the horizon. Her body lay in the week-old snowfall in almost an angelic way, her strawberry blonde hair slightly damp around her face.

With her eyes closed, he believed she wasn’t actually dying before his eyes—just peacefully sleeping in the cold winter woods. She was his masterpiece, his whole world, and she remained beautiful right here in this exact moment. Or that’s what It believed, not him. To him, she was perfect, alive, not dead.

Minutes passed before he slowly rose from his crouched position. The crunch of the icy snow beneath his feet echoed slightly in the empty wilderness surrounding them. He felt like they were in their own special place miles outside The City, while in reality, the sounds of The City lurked only a few miles away.

It never allowed him to touch the bodies after their kills. Instead, they lingered and waited for their victims to completely slip away from consciousness. Then they’d make their way back to his home and submerge themselves in beer and wine before passing out. In the morning, they’d watch the news with the discovery of the death on the screen.

The killings were few and far between, but this was their ritual together. They never felt the need to say goodbye.

But she was different to him. He loved her.

He imagined bringing her home and keeping her safe, like he had always promised. He almost felt her warmth despite the bitterness of the cold winter air around them. It wouldn’t allow her as a permanent part of his life, and he knew better. He was selfish and greedy, risking her by wanting her. By wanting only them.

Back to the ritual.

Her bright red lips, painted in her own blood like a shade of sticky, flirtatious lipstick, flickered in the moonlight. He felt her body growing colder as her pale skin turned a light shade of purple. This wasn’t the same shade of purple bruises that normally accompanied their killings.

This is where the ritual deviated.

The time to leave came, but he couldn’t stop looking at her. Breaking the rules tempted him as his thumb hovered over her lips.

“Do not touch her. We worked too hard,” It said.

But touching her is so damn tempting, he thought as desire crept into his mind. Memories of kissing her neck, her warm embrace, the tininess of her hands, and the smell of her hair consumed him.

It was right. He only made things difficult by dragging this out. They needed to leave now.

He looked away from her body toward the hiking path. The android police force wouldn’t catch them. They never did. An early morning jogger would likely find her tomorrow, and then they’d watch her story unfold on the news.

She was well known in the community. Her innovations in and commitment to pharmaceutical research and drug discovery spoke volumes. To the outside world, she was a lovely, smart scientist who left behind no husband and no children, with her priority solely focused on curing neurological conditions. Boring.

She was full of life, he reminded himself.

Seeing her mutilated and shallow stab wounds brought soft tears to the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t help himself as he bent down and stroked her hair. It shook his head at him but didn’t scold. It knew this wasn’t easy.

His hand pulled away from her face slowly. The smell of her soothingly lingered on his fingertips. Their final goodbye.

It brushed away their footprints and faced the trail.

“Why is this so hard for me?”

“You knew we had no choice,” It answered as they reached the car.

The engine purred to life at the command of his thumbprint, and the lights flickered on, illuminating the inside.

“Where would you like to go today, sir?” The voice activation emerged from the vehicle’s dashboard system.

“Home,” he simply responded.

It looked over at him from the passenger seat with an anxious twitch as the car calculated their route. He closed his eyes and lay back before the car pulled out onto the icy road. Lights quickly appeared on the surrounding streets as they exited the forest. Within minutes, the scenery changed from tall pine trees to crowded urban streets.

Duplexes and triple-decker homes squeezed close together as the crooked streets of The City led them through the most unsavory and neglected neighborhood within metropolitan limits.

A century ago, developers promised to clean up the riffraff and build picturesque, modern, sleek condos. Politicians in The Legislature assured better schools and safer streets for both humans and androids. While the plan infiltrated some neighborhoods in The City, this section wasn’t one of them.

As they neared downtown, the buildings stood taller, and revitalized glass complexes came into view. They neared a popular district, The Bay, which emulated limestone townhomes with large bay windows along tree-lined sidewalks.

Almost home.

He raised the volume of the music, and It looked over at him, smiling before glancing out the passenger window. Classical music made a comeback during the end of The Resurgence and
symbolized a sign of status. The reverberations of the pianist’s fingers against the keys soothed and mesmerized him.

The feel of an incline woke him from his lulled state. They were finally entering The Hill.

The Hill neighborhood held on to its historic charm even during the conflict of The Resurgence. Beautiful brick brownstones stood for centuries alongside gaslit lamp posts that now shined with
modern lights. This section of The City was built by old bloodline families. He was part of one of the most notorious old bloodline families, the O’Connors.

The car parked itself in a tiny garage attached to his townhome, and they both climbed up the stairs. Striding across the living room, he lit the fireplace and kept the lights turned off. He smelled the pasta she and he cooked earlier that evening, and the second bottle of wine they opened sat barely touched on the dining room table. He didn’t bother with a glass as he grabbed the bottle and headed toward the stairs. It followed him, grabbing a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator.

The ritual.

He detoured in the cold, unfinished laundry room. He stared at the washing machine longer than necessary and stripped off his clothes. The water rushed behind the glass window as the machine zoomed to life. The smell of her from his clothes now lost forever.

Naked, he moved from the laundry room and up the next set of stairs, stopping every few steps and drinking directly from the bottle. The wine clouded his mind as a much-needed distraction.

He paused upon reaching the master bedroom, realizing he’d never forget her, no matter how hard he tried. How could he? Her things were everywhere: a tossed University sweatshirt, pairs of
mismatched socks, and her hairbrush. Her presence consumed the room as if she were still here watching him.

“She used you,” It yelled from down the hall, reminding him. Maybe she did use me, he thought, but didn’t I use her, too?

He took another swig from the bottle, emptying it. Tipsiness threatened him, but the wine wasn’t strong enough.

Instead of entering the bedroom, he walked down the hall to his study. Inside the cabinet he found his Scotch and poured himself three fingers. The amber liquid didn’t last long as he consumed its contents in a single gulp.

Forgetting what happened wasn’t enough—he wanted It to know how angry he was with him. He couldn’t be the only one grieving, the only one punished.

Her light chuckle rang through his ears as he reminisced about the first time he brought her into his home. The townhouse was impressive, even with a checkered past.

The home belonged to his family for generations, the old-world charm present among modern technology.

“This is yours?” she had asked, running her hand on the banister while taking in the artwork lining the walls. Her eyes had shifted to the original light fixtures and chandeliers.

He distinctly remembered the look on her face. She had always been observant and curious. A true scientist and researcher at her core. While she appeared cold and aloof to the outside world, she always approached him softly and gently. She held him during his night terrors, the night terrors that shook him uncontrollably. She was his sanctuary, promising to fix and cure his demons.

“But then she used you,” It whispered in his ear.

It always remembered everything when he so desperately wanted to forget.

 

***

 

Her body remained still, but her petrified brain raced rapidly. Her fingers twitched from the rawness of the winter air, and her body ached in indescribable pain.

But Julie Walsh didn’t lose a fight. Ever.

After a few pep talks in her mind, Julie opened her eyes.

How did I end up here? she wondered, taking in the strange and unfamiliar surroundings. How did I go from dinner with Colin to these dark and isolated woods?

Crying out for help required more strength than her body possessed. A searing pain jarred through her abdomen and ribcage, and the snow around her seeped in bright red. Her eyes rolled back into her head from pure shock.

Fight or flight took over. What mattered most was getting out of these woods alive. She opened her eyes again and looked up at the sky. The blackness shone without any stars.

So, I’m close to The City.

Julie observed the wilderness around her. If she didn’t act quickly, she’d suffer from her wounds and die. Blood poured profusely from several shallow stab wounds near her left ribcage and across her stomach.

Julie moved her hand away from her open injuries and up her body, stopping right below her left earlobe. She felt a small incision, a tear.

That was more of a concern.

The sound of branches snapping across the ground echoed around her. Panic and terror rang through her ears, and she wondered if the person who tried killing her returned.

Or is it someone who can help me?

She couldn’t take that chance.

Rolling onto the right side of her body, Julie struggled for a few moments, getting herself off the ground. The pain blinded her. Against Julie’s better judgment, she closed her eyes again.

“Hello?” a deep voice echoed out across the trees.

Julie instantly froze, attempting not to breathe or make any noise.

“Hello?” the voice came again.

The reality of her situation set in. She was gravely wounded and couldn’t escape these woods by herself. This stranger might be her only chance for survival.

“I need help!” Julie called out vulnerably, a foreign concept for her. Julie couldn’t see the stranger, but the sound of his boots on the snow crunched louder and louder as he approached.

When the man stood above her, Julie analyzed his appearance. He wasn’t overly intimidating and showcased an acquired honest look in the nighttime darkness. There was something oddly familiar about this old man. Without understanding why, Julie trusted him.

“I’m not sure what happened,” she said breathlessly.

The stranger looked her over, his face ragged and tired with fine lines around his dark lips and purple rings underneath his eyes. He wore a light windbreaker, not a puffy jacket needed for the cold winters in The City.

“Julie, I’m here. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” His warm, deep voice softened as she faded from consciousness.

How does he know my name? Julie wondered.

Miraculously, he lifted her with ease and carried her deeper into the forest toward a bright, shining light.

 

***

 

“You’re ridiculous!” Julie’s voice echoed in the hall as she ran down the stairs. She’d been tense lately, and this was the first time in weeks that he remembered her laughing.

“No, I’m not!” Colin called after her, laughter filling the townhouse. He smiled in her direction. She made him feel light, happy, and alive.

Julie continued racing through the townhouse in her oversized sweatshirt and ripped jeans. He liked how she dressed casually here with him, so different from her outside life.

Ducking into the living room, Julie quickly realized her mistake. Colin sprinted around the other side of the kitchen before running into her. She swiftly turned, but he caught her from behind and pulled her close to him, kissing her forehead and then her neck. His hands raced up underneath her sweatshirt.

“Colin!” she yelped through her laughter.

His hands traced along the curves of her body while he kissed her neck more aggressively. Colin pulled himself away to remove her sweatshirt, but when he looked down, his hands were covered in blood.

Colin’s eyes darted open. He was back in his bedroom, not the kitchen. There was no Julie in sight.

As he lay drenched in sweat, the sun shone through the window, illuminating his bare body. The pillows and sheets littered the floor as if someone threw them at an intruder. An empty bottle of wine left a purple ring on the nightstand next to a half-empty bottle of Scotch. His head pounded from a terrible hangover.

Colin grabbed his device without hesitation and requested access to the local news. The familiar news anchors smiled in their overly done makeup on the razor-thin screen on the wall. Jessica
Something-or-Other was the main reporter on the screen. She once interviewed Colin when she was the political correspondent.

A news segment played on a clean water initiative from The City’s most prestigious and innovative corporation. The representative from that district excitedly shared his optimism.

Fucking Representative Joel Kennsington. How does he keep getting elected? Colin hated that man.

As a politician himself, Colin recognized that humans preferred the devil they knew better than the devil they didn’t know.

Back in the newsroom, Jessica introduced the progress of the high-speed, emissions-free floating tram. A new route was proposed, legislature Colin specifically remembered listening to only weeks ago. Eventually, they moved on to the weather forecast.

Where is the breaking news about a famous scientist found dead in the wooded reserves outside The City? Has someone not found her yet?

He felt heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

“Shit,” It echoed.

 

***

 

“I’m Mick,” the old man said, “a slightly different version of Mick but still Mick.”

Mick Taylor was Julie’s friend; he was her age. Not an old man. They stood at the entrance of the mesmerizing and hauntingly beautiful light coming from a small chrome box. Julie tilted her head, unsure if she were hallucinating in these woods.

Mick looked down at her and smiled.

“Do you trust me?”

Julie nodded, realizing she had no other choice.

Mick sheltered Julie’s eyes with a pair of glasses. She couldn’t see anything through the dark lenses, but the darkness calmed her. She concentrated on her breathing and pushed aside the pain coursing through her body.

A soft clicking sound cascaded from the glasses, and a vibration pulsed through her body. The experience was noticeable but not violent or unpleasant.

When Mick removed the glasses from Julie’s eyes, The City’s skyline appeared. Unlike the clean streets and scenery she was accustomed to, she observed garbage and debris surrounding her in unforgiving gray colors.

Reality crashed around her as the pain thundered back with a vengeance. Mick propped her up against the building behind them before retrieving the small rectangular device on the ground. He flattened the box and placed it in his pocket with both sets of glasses.

“We need to move quickly before the bots come out and enforce curfew hours,” Mick said.

Julie’s brow raised at his statement. The term “bots” was derogatory, referring to the android citizens of The City. People barely used that word anymore, especially someone like Mick. He cared about androids, even loved one.

He scooped her back up and carried her through the streets at a slow but steady pace. They passed a woman who didn’t even bat an eye their way. Many humans and androids surrounded them with no concern of a man holding a bloody woman.

“They can’t see you,” Mick said as if reading her mind. “It’s like you don’t exist to them.”

“Why?” Julie asked, her ghostly presence an uncomfortable notion.

“You’re only visible in dimensions where you’re alive. You’re dead in this one.” His words sliced through her as this harsh reality set in.

“This is the future?”

Mick didn’t respond, his silence deafening against the loud noises of The City.

They reached a paved parking lot, and Mick opened the back door of a sleek vehicle she didn’t recognize. As they drove, Julie observed The City while applying pressure to her wounds. This
future version of The City looked vastly different.

Polluted clouds lined the tops of skyscrapers, so she couldn’t see the highest floors of the buildings. Some appeared abandoned. People on the sidewalks wouldn’t look at one another, and children were held close to their mothers’ chests. Everything was cold and gray. There were no vibrant colors, no sense of greenery anywhere. An overpowering sense of sadness overcame her as she pieced together why society looked this way.

“Humans and androids have no control here anymore,” Mick said from the front seat.

Julie looked out the window again. Humans wore dull black clothing as they passed by vehicles and one another. The androids among them also wore muted tones, but their beautiful scales
reflected starkly off the glass buildings.

Mick’s vehicle turned the windy street corners gently as if he knew her unbearable pain. Comfort filled Julie for the first time once they approached a familiar part of The City. The Hill.

When she wasn’t in the lab at COLI*GO, Julie spent her time in The Hill. This was where the secret part of her lived. The real part of her.

The vehicle stopped in front of the O’Connor townhouse.

“Colin is still here? How did he let any of this happen?” Julie asked, fear trickling out of her voice.

“Let’s not talk about Colin yet,” Mick said while maneuvering her out of the back seat.

Her body left a bloody mess behind as Mick carried her up the stairs and into the elegant dining room.

Nothing about the O’Connor townhouse changed. The immaculate furniture was organized meticulously. The smell of the home even put her at ease. It smelled like Colin.

New waves of pain spread across her whole body as Mick tried gently placing her on the dining room table. Julie’s eyes widened as a familiar shadow loomed above her.