Bought

People

I wanted to believe that my escape was some grand affair where I single-handedly robbed my masters and vanished into the night.  The truth was I would have been dead without Tyler.  I didn't even remember much of what happened.

The things I did recall were only snippets of memory tinted by a lens of pain.  Stumbling out of the house.  Tyler hailing a hovercar. Stretched out in the backseat, my head in Tyler's lap as he moped up the blood as best he could. Dark streets, whirls of passing light. At one moment I was composed enough to hear Tyler talking to himself as he programmed directions into the hovercar.

"Got to get to a hospital. They'll ask questions, but not too many. The purchase was legitimate. Doctors will see products, won't they?"

"No," I pleaded, grabbing his sleeve. Even that much movement sent bolts of pain through my body. "Don't take me . . . there."

"You need a doctor, Destiny. This isn't one of those things you can just tough out."

"No. No . . . doctors. Go to Stucki. Stucki Street, the headquarters . . ."

I faded back, my energy spent. I couldn't say any more. My energy was gone, my will spent. Fate had us now. It would do what it pleased.

When I woke up, it took me a long moment to figure out where I was.  The room was dim.  It seemed to be a garage of some sort.  Junk had been shoved against the walls in an effort to make more space for the patchy couch I was stretched out on.  I could see Tyler from where I was.  He was pacing across the floor.  His prosthetic arm was detached and placed on a table.  He glanced up and noticed me watching him.

"It's rude to stare," he said, but his eyes were smiling.

"You're plenty rude," I teased. I was feeling a little more in control of my faculties, but I wouldn't be running a marathon any time soon and my chest was still burning. To add to my discomfort, my abdomen was starting to hurt. What did I ever do to it?

"I tried to find the place you were talking about," Tyler said. "Stucki Street, the headquarters. But there wasn't anything there. Just a bunch of weird stores and employment facilities. What was I supposed to find?"

He hadn't found it. Good. And he wouldn't ever need to. I was disgusted at myself. I had almost revealed a secret that I had sworn to kill to protect. And not only had I almost shared the secret, but I almost shared it with a buyer. Where was the willpower I was so proud of? Where was the self control?

"There isn't anything there," I said. "It was the delirium talking. Where did you bring us?"

"A friend of mine's house. He said we could stay here as long as we need. But I still think you should go to the hospital."

"No. No doctors."

"Have you looked at yourself? My dad used you as a punching bag! He was going to kill you!" Tyler hesitated, but I could see the question burning in his eyes a moment before he said it. "Were you really going to use that knife to kill us?"

Honesty or what he wanted to hear? The guy had saved my life. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved the truth.

"I don't know what I was going to do with it," I admitted. "I didn't take it on purpose. But when your dad caught me eavesdropping on his phone call, I would have fought back. I was going to kill him before he could kill me, or you."

"He wouldn't kill me."

"He was planning to. Why do you think I stuck around to hear his phone call in the first place? He thought you wanted me to escape, so he was going to kill you to protect his career."

Tyler stumbled back a few steps. He sat down on a plastic crate, eyes unfocused. "He was going to kill me. My dad."

"Your dad sucks as far as dads go."

He rubbed his eyes. "Oh what did I get myself into."

"Well, for starters you shot your dad."

"Tranquilizer. Emergency defense mechanism. But I mean when I rescued you from the product facility. I didn't realize what I was doing."

"No, you didn't." I took a deep breath. "You were in a bubble. You didn't realize exactly how products are seen. We aren't people. We're things to be bought and used. We don't have rights, we don't have families, we don't have identities, and nobody sticks up for us."

I wanted to sit up, to face him as I finally told him what he should have heard a long time ago, but I couldn't so much as wiggle my fingers before things exploded into pain. I would have to settle for a bedside confessional. "If you want to survive, you need to leave. Go find somewhere else to live far from your dad."

"What, abandon you?"

"Yes. I have a record, Tyler. And your dad will do anything to either get me back or kill me. I've tried to escape fifteen times. And do you know how many times I succeeded? Zero. Not a single time."

"But it's different this time. You're not alone."

My eyes started to burn again, but still no tears came. I turned my head so I was looking at the ceiling. "I am alone.  I'm product 91668.  Destiny."

I long moment dragged by, neither of us saying anything.  I could only imagine what was going on in his head.  He was finally putting the pieces together.  He would run away, find someplace to live-

"What would you do, if you were free?"

I snorted.  "Never going to happen."

"But if you were.  What's the first thing you would do?"

I took a deep breath.  "I would find my real family.  But . . . I can't."

"Why not?  We just find someone with your same last name."

I grimaced at him.  "You still don't get it.  I'm a product.  I don't have an identity.  I don't have a first name, let alone a last name."

"But I thought your name was Destiny."

I wanted to think it was.  I wanted to agree with him, to tell him about my dream where my mother named me before letting me become a product.  But I had to be honest with myself.  With both of us.

"The stockholders gave me that.  Destiny No-name."

"But there has to be a record of your birth somewhere-"

I didn't hear anymore.  My body had erupted into chaos, rebelling over the fact that I was even still alive, let alone trying to hold a conversation.  My gut felt like someone was digging a knife into it.  My fingers tingled with pins and needles, my vision went dark around the edges, and I leaned off of the couch and vomited.  My brain was throwing hundreds of signals at me.  You're injured, you're sick, you're dying.  My eyes met Tyler's, his round with horror, before I lost consciousness.