Bought

Pierced

Halfway up the stairs I was hit with a wave of exhaustion.  I stumbled against the banister and rubbed my eyes.  Sure, I didn't get much sleep last night, but this was ridiculous.

I made it into my room and flopped into bed. I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

When I came back around it was late afternoon, possibly evening. Without any way to tell the time I just had to make my best guess.

I climbed out of bed and stretched, relishing the sensation.  I wasn't feeling as exhausted as before but fatigue still tugged at my bones.  The bed looked terribly inviting.  I pushed away the urges.  It wouldn't do for Tyler's dad to catch me napping.  Even if I did finish all the work he left me.

Glancing down, I realized that I was still wearing my cleaning tool belt.  Which meant I had slept with the knife. Thank goodness I didn't move around a lot.

A quick glance into the hall revealed that Tyler was in his room. It looked like he was writing in some kind of notebook, occasionally muttering to himself as he crossed things out. I crept away as silently as I could. I was in no mood to continue our conversation from before.

I descended to the main floor, glancing at a passing clock as I did so. I had been off on my initial assessment; it was late evening. The sunlight streaming through the windows was all fake.

"No, Will, it isn't reasonable."

I slowed. Someone was up ahead, in one of the rooms to my right. The door was barely cracked open. I recognized it as the dad's office. So he was back.

"I already talked to the therapist. She thinks he's hitting that rebellious stage."

So he was talking about Tyler. I hesitated. At this point would it be better for me to keep walking past and risking him hearing me, or should I turn back? He might have already known I was sleeping.

"Yeah, he got a product. A product of all things, and a rebel at that. She was in the middle of an escape attempt when we got her. Yeah, I hear you, Will. And I haven't ruled it out. In fact, it might even make sense. Tyler has been complaining about how he never sees any of his old friends anymore, if they even remember him. He might have got this product in hopes that she would escape and share his secret. Then there wouldn't be a point to keeping him separated."

Using me? He thought Tyler was using me? It did make a strange kind of sense. Tyler needed someone to blow the secret for him, someone expendable. Someone he knew had a good chance of getting away. I was the most convenient option. My blood boiled at the thought, but the dad's next words chilled my heart.

"Yeah, I know, Will. If anyone finds out about my boy then my career is finished. I might have to. It might be better if I have no son."

I clutched at my throat. He was going to kill him. He was going to kill Tyler, his own perfectly good son, for no reason other than to protect his career. And while he was free to murder his kid, my parents were forced to give me up for no reason at all!

Pounding footsteps, then the door burst open. My terrified eyes met those of Tyler's father. He stared me down for a moment, a cellphone held to his ear. He scowled.

"I'll call you back, Will, I got a problem to deal with."

My eyes flickered to his hand as he lowered the phone. There. A removable ID patch. The key to my freedom.

I plunged my hand into the tool belt, holding back a cry of pain as the knife blade sliced my index finger. Tyler's dad lunged forward and I drew the knife. For as fast as my reflexes were, he beat them through sheer brute strength. He simultaneously ripped the knife from my grip and delivered a crushing blow to the side of my head with his other fist. I shrieked and tumbled into the wall, colliding with a desk on my way down. Something shattered. I tasted blood.

"How dare you try to kill us?" he roared. The sound pounded through my head. Or were those footsteps? I couldn't distinguish the two.

I struggled to push myself up but a powerful kick to my ribs sent me spinning again. I cowered, pushing myself against the wall, keeping my head down. A stabbing pain in my side; at least one rib was broken. Maybe more.

"DAD!"

That was definitely not his voice. Tyler had emerged just in time to watch me get beaten to dust.

"DAD, STOP IT!" Another kick, but this one was just a glancing blow on my leg. I threw my hands over my head. "WHY ARE YOU HURTING HER?"

"She was going to kill you," the father growled. I could only assume he was showing Tyler the knife. "I told you this was a bad idea. Products never change. They aren't human."

"No," I whispered. It was shameful to beg for mercy from them, but self preservation was in control now.

"She wasn't . . ." Tyler stuttered, "that isn't . . ."

"Stand back, son. I'm afraid this will get messy."

I turned my head. My vision was going double and encircled by stars, but I could still make out Tyler's dad clutching the knife as he leaned over me.

There was a click and a metallic dart sprouted in his chest. His body went limp, teetering on the brink of consciousness, and collapsed.

I turned my head further, ignoring the thundering pain in my temple. Tyler stood, face pale, eyes wide. His prosthetic arm pointed where his father had stood only moments before. The index finger had disconnected, revolving on some invisible hinge, to reveal an empty chamber.

"What did I do?" Tyler croaked. His arm dropped. "What did I just do?"

I could only stare. Moving would hurt too much, and I was afraid of what would come out if I tried to talk. My body was broken. Badly. And Tyler was in no state to act.

"Why did I do that? Dad's going to kill me. It's official. I'm grounded for eternity. Just like that."

"Ty . . ." I croaked. His gaze flickered to me.

"You're hurt. Oh, that looks bad. I don't know what to . . . I don't know how to . . ."

"Ty . . . ler," I repeated, sharpening the look into a glare. He swallowed and straightened his shoulders.

"I have to get you out of here. The tranquilizer won't last long. My arm isn't built for carrying heavy loads. Can you walk?"

I would have to be able to. At this point it didn't matter if I could or couldn't.

My escape had come, but apparently Tyler was coming with me.