Beyond the Horizon

41. Hatred

Even in death, VC-17 continued to plague him.

          The long hall outside Officer Rashi's office was wide and tile-floored. The lighting was muted and cool, one of the LEDs flickering where the bulb had gone bad. It made an aggravating buzzing sound that Rashi had long since gone deaf to. Somewhere not far above him, people strolled into Horizon Labs with their punch cards, logging into their computers and submitting reports to upper management in order to avoid another tax audit.

          Rashi's boots echoed on the ground as he stormed toward his office. He clenched his jaw, his heart hammering in his chest like a wild bird.

          After leaving the Doctor's office that afternoon, Rashi had been followed back to Section M by a young man in a solid white coat with the Horizon Lab's logo stitched into the lapel. Officer Rashi recognized him as one of the Doctor's top lab monkeys, but Rashi had never paid enough attention to him to remember his name.

          The lab monkey fell into step behind Rashi, looking at his clipboard and pretending not to survey the officer's movements. Rashi narrowed his eyes and glared over his shoulder.

          He wasn't an idiot. He'd been tailed before. After a VC died under "mysterious" circumstances in Section M three years ago, the Doctor had tasked a handful of agents to follow Officer Rashi and report their findings back to him.

          Rashi hadn't needed to act any differently because he'd had nothing to hide. The VC's death had been a fluke, an unnatural occurrence that no one had quite been able to explain. Sudden arrhythmic death syndrome, the Doctor reported, etching it permanently into the VC's records before filing them away. A rare happening that plagued a notable 0.16 out of 100,000 people. The fact that it had happened under Officer Rashi's care had been nothing more than a strange coincidence.

          This time, the lab monkey's presence made Officer Rashi uneasy and embittered. The tape holding his index and middle fingers together ached. It was bad enough he'd had to relearn how to use his right hand; to realize that he might be unable to move his middle finger, even with surgery, felt like a punch in the gut.

          Frustration clenched in Rashi's stomach as he stepped into the elevator. Section M was down a few levels from the Doctor's office―where Rashi had spent the past forty-five minutes being lectured on the importance of keeping his prisoners properly nourished.

          "I understand this might be a difficult position for you, Officer," the Doctor had intoned, looking as bored and distant as he always did. "But it's imperative for you to acknowledge that VC-221 is not VC-17, as much as you might wish it otherwise."

          Rashi's teeth plunged into his lower lip as the lab monkey slid into the elevator beside him. It was big enough to accompany a hospital gurney―which sometimes became necessary when transporting VCs to new Sections―but Rashi felt cramped and uncomfortable as the lab monkey's brown eyes peered over at him.

          "Going down?" Officer Rashi hissed.

          The lab monkey's lips drew back in a blank smile. "Yes, actually. I'm heading to Section P to review the condition of one of the VCs."

          I didn't fucking ask. Rashi knew it was a lie, all the same. The lab monkey had been tasked with monitoring his condition after leaving the Doctor's office.

          "Hmm, indeed." Officer Rashi forced a smile on his face. His jaw ached from the force of his teeth grinding together.

          He pressed the button that would guide them down to the floor where Sections M-P sat. The door squeaked closed, and then, with a gut-churning lurch, the elevator plunged down the shaft.