Jude's thumbs were moving on the phone before the feed had even fully registered what he was seeing.
No good. Danton had nothing on him — wallet, phone, keys, all of it had been on the clone when it went into the water. The man in the basement had no way to receive a message even if Jude sent one.
On the nanobot feed, Danton was already moving. He hadn't processed the situation fully yet — probably still running on some combination of adrenaline and the phantom memory of dying — but his body was taking him upstairs anyway, one hand on the wall, gait stiff, like a man navigating by feel. The phantom pain of severed muscle and broken rib and the specific sensation of seawater entering the lungs: those things didn't stay in the clone. They transferred. The body remembered what it hadn't experienced directly, and it didn't care that the technicality was in Danton's favor.
He needed to confirm Elizabeth was safe. Of course he did. Jude watched him go.
She was asleep. The feed showed Danton standing in the bedroom doorway for a full minute, not moving, just watching the rise and fall of her breathing. Then he leaned in, kissed her forehead, and backed out of the room with the careful silence of someone who had just survived something and didn't want to bring it across the threshold.
Good. Jude exhaled. Now go back to the basement, Danton. Go back to the—
Danton walked into the living room and picked up his phone.
The screen lit up.
In its black glass, a yellow shadow was reflected from the window behind him.
Danton did not move.
His nervous system had been through enough tonight that the threat registered somewhere below thought — not fear exactly, more like every cell in his body simultaneously deciding to stop what it was doing and pay attention.
"A simple question," the yellow figure said. Its voice had slowed, each word placed with the deliberate weight of something that didn't need to rush. "When a person can duplicate themselves — how does anyone confirm which one they killed?"
It took a step toward him.
"Stagg has resources and no scruples. He might have anticipated the possibility of a meta among his opponents. So naturally, one would present the clone and hide the original." Another step. "I don't need to worry about that, of course. I have my own method for determining which body is which — I won't be sharing it." Another step. "So. Where is the original?"
"You think I'd tell you that?" Danton kept his voice level. He was proud of that. "So you can kill me without any effort?"
"I don't need your cooperation for effort." The figure's tone remained flat. "I just need to go upstairs and take one of Elizabeth's fingers. You'll tell me everything I need to know before the second one."
The silence stretched.
"Here's the arrangement," the yellow figure said. "Tell me your location. I'll kill you once. If I don't confirm the kill, I remove a finger. Ten fingers, then toes, then whatever comes after. But my honest suggestion is to answer now, because I genuinely prefer she not see me."
It stopped a few feet away.
"Three seconds, Mr. Black. I'll start with the one standing in front of me, since my working theory is that you don't let a clone kiss your wife goodnight."
Danton's hands were shaking. He made them stop.
"If I tell you what guarantee do I have that you leave Elizabeth alone? Your word? The word of—" He couldn't finish the sentence with anything civil.
"What would I gain from complicating things? I didn't want to be here tonight at all." The figure's voice was almost reasonable. "She's not the problem."
"You're asking me to stake her life on the promise of a deranged killer."
"You have no other options."
Another silence. Shorter.
"You're right," Danton said. "I'm the original."
The yellow figure almost smiled.
"Ready to meet your fate, Mr. Black?"
"That's a terrible exit line."
The hand came through his chest.
Death spread through him again — he recognized it this time, which was somehow worse than the first — and in the last fragment of consciousness before it closed over him completely, one thought surfaced, quiet and clear and not particularly angry.
I really wanted to be the one to cure her.
The crimson lightning left the room.
Jude was already on the second feed.
"He threw both of them to the same coordinates," Satsuki said through the earpiece. The two red dots on the map were nearly overlapping, somewhere off the waterfront. "The clone and the original. Same location in the water."
"Twisted," Jude muttered.
"Agreed. What's the—"
"Yomogi." He looked around. "Yomogi, where did you — Yomogi!"
"The moment the coordinates confirmed," Satsuki said, "she pulled something out from under the cart and disappeared. I didn't catch what it was."
Jude went still, then let out a breath. "The CatCart."
"The what?"
"It's fine. It's handled." He ran a hand over his face. "If she'd activated it here, inside the villa's surveillance range, we'd have had a much worse night. The timing worked out."
"What does the CatCart do, exactly?"
"Finds a chosen target. As long as there's a breath left, it reaches them." He watched the dots on the map. "By the time she gets to the beach—"
Something landed behind him.
Both he and Satsuki turned.
Yomogi stood in the alley, tail flicking, dragging a small wooden cart with both forepaws. On the cart was Danton — thoroughly waterlogged, visibly disoriented, apparently alive — who promptly rolled off the edge and hit the ground with a sound that was more sad than dramatic.
He lay there for a moment.
"...Where am I," he said, to no one in particular.
Jude looked at Yomogi. Yomogi looked at Jude.
"Why didn't you bring him inside?" Jude asked.
Yomogi glanced around at the alley — the hidden three-wheeler, the concealed wallpaper panel, the general darkness and concrete — with an expression of complete innocence.
"But boss," she said, "this is our camp, meow."
Danton, from the ground, made a sound that suggested he was beginning to remember what had happened to him tonight and finding the process unpleasant.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~