Transformations: The New Normal Ch. 06

"Thank you for everything, Mistress Manetti."

Tanya ran her finger down Teresa's cheek. "Break a leg, Miss Adkins."

Teresa smiled.

Patricia took Teresa's arm.

Tanya reached out and took Patricia's other hand. "It wasn't what I thought, detective. It's not what you think it is either. Come with me and I'll show you."

Patricia looked down at Tanya's hand. "I'm... going to need you to let go of me. Now."

Tanya just smiled. "There're so many things I could show you. So many wonderful things." She tilted her head to the side and stared into Patricia's eyes. "You want to fight what's coming. You can't. But you can choose to face it on your terms, detective. You won't always have that choice." She released Patricia's hand. "I'll be here if you change your mind."

Tanya turned away and walked back into the darkness. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "It's okay that you're looking at my ass, detective. I like being desired. Lust is the new normal."

Patricia blinked, realized she had been staring, and quickly turned away.

***

"This is Kennedy," Patricia said into her lapel microphone. "We're coming out."

Teresa Adkins smiled as she walked side by side with Patricia toward the doors.

"Miss Adkins, I'm going to take you directly to the airport. From there, you'll fly to Syracuse. It's very important that you not say anything to anyone until you're debriefed."

"Yes, I understand," Teresa said. The dazzling smile seemed permanently fixed on her face.

"Detective?" A voice said in her earpiece. "We have a situation."

"What situation?" Patricia said as she opened the door that led to the street.

Reporters with microphones and cameras converged from all directions. All of them screamed Teresa's name.

"Miss Adkins, what was it like in there?"

"Are you ill?"

"How did you escape?"

Patricia gritted her teeth. "How the fuck did the press find out about this?" She asked her lapel.

"No idea. They just came out of nowhere."

Teresa Adkins pulled away from Patricia and walked directly into the mass of reporters. "I'm fine. I've been fine!"

Patricia stared at her in disbelief as the crowd closed around her.

"I have to tell you, it was terrifying at first. Everyone on the street was sick and then the Church of Morpheus came. They literally saved everyone in the zone. They setup clinics, vaccinated everyone - honestly, this was better medical care than you can possibly imagine," Teresa said. "This country could learn a thing or two from the Church."

"Patricia, rumors are that you were in hiding?" A reporter asked.

"No, absolutely not! I was a guest of Mother Superior Hecate herself. I even helped out in one of the Church clinics." She turned and pointed toward the walls. "I know this is scary, but, trust me: everyone on the other side of those walls is happy and healthier than they were under our own government."

Patricia's cellphone rang. She pulled out her earbud and put it in her pocket. She put her cellphone to her ear. "Let me guess? My friend the spook?"

"How did you guess?" Her mysterious friend from Washington said.

"You watching this?"

"We're the government. We're always watching. They got her. They got to her. Nothing you could have done, detective. These people are playing chess and we're still playing checkers."

"Goddamn it," Patricia said as she watched the reporters hanging on every word out of Teresa Adkins' brainwashed mouth.

Her friend in Washington spoke: "Hang in there, detective. We lost a battle not the war... not yet anyway."

***

A Few Days Later

Random voices over the airwaves.

"...word from the New York City Mayor's Office that the Red Zone will be open soon and that, get this, prostitution has been legalized within the zone. Several gaming chains have announced plans to open casinos inside New York's new Red Light District..."

"...prostitution, legalized in New York City, coming to Boston, to Philadelphia, to Chicago - could anyone have seen this coming?..."

"...it's an assault on our Judeo-Christian values. This is the end of morality. This is how the world ends: in moral squalor..."

"...I mean, this Church of Morpheus, they're just giving sex workers a fair shake, you know? I mean, sex is free in the zone, man. The Church is providing free everything - sign me up, man..."

***

Betty Ludwig di Manetti fingered one of her nipple piercings as she leaned back in the office chair. She held the phone to her ear and laughed. "Listen, asshole, I was born and raised in Brooklyn. You are not buying a Caitlyn for a dime less than $150,000 per unit. I don't care if you want fifty units - the price is 150. We're selling perfection and perfection costs you 150 large."

Tanya looked out at the Transformation floor. The bondage machines were full. Caitlyn's in every hair color and style and skin tone took up a quarter of the floor.

She was the top seller, in volume.

The rest of the floor was taken up by random celebrity clones, both female and male thanks to Demona.

They sold for much more.

Carrie stood by a cloned pop singer. The White Witch's eyes were rolled back as she transferred the original's personality into the clone.

Tanya smiled. Carrie was insatiable in bed and every bit as twisted as Cathy had told her.

She loved to play dominatrix games with Tanya, but Tanya had had to make sure the young White Witch didn't cause permanent damage to any of their "toys".

"You're going to need to expand to another floor," Cathy said as she walked into the office.

"We'll be on two more floors within a week - did you know the Church has started abducting celebrities all over the world and they're shipping them here for cloning?" Tanya asked.

"Yes, Hecate and Sister are very pleased with you," Cathy said as she caressed Tanya's back.

"I bought an island. Little one. Few miles off Bermuda," Tanya said.

"Retiring already?"

Tanya laughed. "No. Just a home for my coven. For when the real war starts."

Cathy frowned. "What makes you think there's going to be a war?"

Tanya shook her head. "Something's got to give. I want the people I love to be far away from it when it does."

Cathy nodded. "Good thinking." She took Tanya's hand. "I've come to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"Hecate is pulling out. The zone will be open soon. No more land to conquer - she's bored."

"So, you and Tracy are going with her back to Cuba?"

"Yes."

Tanya frowned. "Until the real war starts?"

"Yes."

***

Evie Price stepped out of the storage room and rolled the cart of medical supplies across the dark hall and to the clinic. She opened the door and heard Allen talking to someone.

"...way too much growth formula. Honestly, I don't know where Havana gets these imbeciles they call doctors," a woman's voice said.

"But you say she's a natural?" Allen asked.

"If it wasn't for those clumsy hands? She'd be the best nurse in the Red Zone. I intend for her to become the best doctor in the Red Zone," the woman said. "And we need as many doctors and nurses who don't owe their allegiance to Havana as we can find."

Evie was close enough to see them even in the dim light that Allen preferred. His hulking form was crouched behind his desk.

The brunette he was speaking to was sitting with her back to Evie. She was tall and dressed in a pink nurse's uniform.

Allen looked toward Evie and smiled... were his lips quivering? "We have a guest," he said.

The woman turned in her chair - a beautiful face, pale but with piercing violet eyes. She had a heart shaped tattoo at the outside corner of her left eye. "I'm Dr. Demona."

Evie stopped in her tracks, unable to find her voice.

"Demona, this is Mistress Ev..."

"Evie. Nurse Evie Price. Havana sent me to assist Dr. Thompson," Evie said as she finally found her voice.

Demona smiled. "She looks a little frail. Don't break her, Allen."

Allen shook his head. "Trust me. She's tough... like you. Looks can be deceiving."

Demona laughed. "Thanks for helping, Allen. I knew if anyone had what was needed, it'd be you."

"I'll get right on it."

Demona stood up. She turned and took Evie's hand.

Evie stared at the surgeon's fingers.

"Nice to meet you, Evie." She nodded over her shoulder. "Take care of this one. We need him."

Demona released her hand and walked out the door.

Evie stood motionless and stared at her now empty hand.

Allen knelt in front of Evie. "She just showed up. I didn't have time to warn..."

Evie threw her arms around Allen's neck and pulled herself off the ground. "It was her. It was her," she repeated over and over.

"Yes, darling. It was her."

Evie wept.

***

The crate arrived at the penthouse and Jeremy carried it into the living room.

Nurse Raquel was studying surgical techniques on an oversized tablet Tanya had gotten for her.

Jeremy set the crate down on the floor in front of her chair. "For you."

"Me?" Raquel asked.

The address on the crate read 'Nurse Raquel Leviathan di Manetti'. The return address was Ithaca, NY.

"I think I have a small crowbar here somewhere," Jeremy said as he turned away.

"No need," Raquel said. She dug her fingers into the lid and wrenched it free with a squeak of wood and nails.

There was a letter on top of the packing material.

Nurse Raquel,

I was very impressed by your work when I was in the Red Zone. Tuesdays and Thursdays at 7:00 PM you will videoconference with myself and my medical students with the goal of your becoming a doctor. To aid in this, a colleague of mine, Dr. Allen Thompson has sent you a set of his medical instruments. I hope you find them more suited to your hands.

Sincerely,

Dr. Demona

Raquel re-read the letter. Then she re-read it again. Inside the packing material were instruments with oversized handles that fit her hands perfectly.

***

Cathy sat beside Tracy in the quadcopter and watched the Manhattan skyline disappear through the open rear ramp. Dozens of Church quadcopters flew in formation beside them.

They were headed east over the Atlantic toward international waters.

Far in the distance, Cathy could see US Air Force jets shadowing them, making sure they did not deviate from their course.

"It's fucking loud," Tracy yelled into Cathy's ear. "Is she ever going to close the fucking door?"

Cathy looked at the open ramp.

Hecate stood in her black rubber bodysuit with nun's coif and stared out at the receding skyline.

"She likes the view," Cathy said. "She's pretty sure she'll own it all soon."

Tracy laughed.

Cathy stood up and walked on the pitching deck toward Hecate.

She reached Hecate's side and put her arm around the woman's waist. "Hecate, are we riding all the way to Havana with the ramp open?"

"Not much further," Hecate said over the rushing wind. "We're almost to international waters." She pulled free of Cathy's grasp. "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?"

Cathy frowned. "What?"

Hecate looked over Cathy's shoulder at Tracy. "For the past thirty minutes I've been projecting pain at your girlfriend. She hasn't even blinked."

Cathy swallowed.

"Did you think me a fool, Cathy?" There was murder in Hecate's eyes.

"Hecate..."

"An immune? You transformed an immune? And then you have the nerve to claim that abomination as your own?"

"She is with us, Hecate. She is one of us. I love her. Give it time and you will love her as well..."

Hecate turned away and stared out into the empty sky. "You push me, Cathy. Again and again, you push me beyond my limits."

"No one need know Tracy is an immune..."

She spun on her stilettos. "I know! I know, Cathy! I am Sister's right hand! General of her holy army," she said over the howl of the wind. Her eyes were wild. "Bring your whore over here."

Cathy turned and looked at Tracy. The girl was sitting with her eyes closed. "Why?"

"Because we are going to throw that abomination off this quadcopter and into the sea. And then you are going to beg my forgiveness for this treachery!"

Cathy stared into her eyes. "No. I will do neither." She clenched her fists by her sides.

Hecate gritted her teeth. "Too far, Cathy. You've gone too far..."

"No. You have. And now I'm telling you: enough! Enough, Hecate! If you throw that girl off this quadcopter, I'll be right behind her. I'll throw myself off this machine while you watch."

"You wouldn't..."

Cathy took a step toward her. "Yes, I would. And you know I would."

"It's too much, Cathy. You want too much from me!"

"Yes, I do ask too much of you. I want you to dig down deep inside and find what shred of humanity, what dim spark Sister might have left inside you. Find it Hecate, or I will follow Tracy out this door." She stepped closer still. "And then, when you reach Havana? Sister can try to explain to Maria Marapova why you killed a member of Whore Caste along with one of Maria's White Witches."

Cathy smiled - Hecate looked afraid.

"Throw that girl off this quadcopter and you will start a war I don't think you can win, Hecate," Cathy said. "But, by all means, if you want to find out? Let's go."

Hecate reached up and pressed a red button on the bulkhead.

The ramp slowly hissed shut as Hecate stalked away toward the cockpit.

Cathy leaned against the bulkhead and watched as Manhattan disappeared behind them.

***

Six Months Later

Colonel Menser sat in the SUV as it idled in the parking lot. The lot overlooked the Potomac in Arlington. The street beyond was crowded with people going in and out of the surrounding restaurants.

Menser thumbed through a file of intelligence reports. "Flying man sighted in upstate New York. Reports of demonic possession. Mass disappearances at a ski lodge... which exploded. You know, I used to read the National Enquirer for news like this. Now I just read NRO official field reports." He looked at his watch. "Your girlfriend is late."

Agent Walter Jones sat in the back of the SUV. "She'll be here."

"We should have sent an agent with a bigger dick to that slave auction. Obviously, you didn't get the job done."

"She called, didn't she. My guess is Tracy Dufresne is watching us to make sure we aren't planning on kidnapping her."

"We are going to kidnap her," Menser said.

Agent Jones blinked. "Excuse me?"

Menser pulled a syringe out of his jacket pocket. "They tell me this is enough to roofie a rhino. Hopefully it's enough to subdue one transformed hooker."

"She's not a hooker."

"Fuck's sake, Jones..."

"Sir, I think she can be a real asset for the NRO."

"Well, we'll know in a few minutes," Menser said as he nodded out the window.

Tracy Dufresne walked through the crowd dressed in a tight, red, Italian leather mini dress with matching heels and jacket. She stepped straight up to the SUV and opened the driver's side rear door.

She slid into the seat beside Menser. "You the chief spook?"

Walter laughed in the back seat.

"I'm Colonel Menser."

"I don't fucking care, just so long as you're the guy in charge."

"I am."

"Before we get started? I have some ground rules. They aren't negotiable."

"Go on."

"One. I won't do anything to hurt Whore Caste. Got it? Do anything you want to those evil Church of Morpheus fucks, but you harm one Whore Caste? We're done. Got it?"

Menser shook his head. "I can't promise that."

"Then go fuck yourself." Tracy took hold of the door handle.

"I'll do my best, okay? We're in agreement that the Church is the biggest problem."

"I mean what I say. You kill one Whore Caste? We're done. Number two, when this is over? Full amnesty for Whore Caste."

Menser laughed. "Miss Dufresne, respectfully? Fuck you."

"You want my help or not?"

Menser shook his head. "What makes you think I can keep that promise? Why do you think I have that kind of pull?"

"If you don't, I'm talking to the wrong asshole."

Menser stared at her. "Okay, done. What else do you want?"

"Number three? Whatever you're planning on doing to me in this SUV? Forget it."

"What do you mean?"

Tracy smiled. "You have no intention of letting me out of this truck. I think it has something to do with what you're hiding in your jacket."

Menser frowned. He pulled out the syringe. "I have no intention of killing you. There are limits to my inhumanity, Ms. Dufresne. But, you are correct: you're not leaving this truck."

Tracy smiled. "Aww! It's cute you think you can overpower me. You can't. But, it is cute. I also have something up my sleeve."

She pulled her left hand out of her jacket pocket.

She was holding a hand grenade.

"Jesus," Walter whispered.

Menser stared at her hand. "Miss Dufresne, you do understand what you're holding there, don't you?"

"Hmm? Hand grenade. Pull the pin - which I already have - let go of the handle, goes boom? Feel free to mansplain it to me if I left anything out."

Menser shook his head. "No, that about covers it. You do realize that's going to take you out as well, right?"

"Yeah, I figure there will be pieces of us in the lobster bisque across the street. Do I need to let go?"

Menser smiled and shook his head. He put the syringe back in his pocket. "No. We'll play it your way."

Tracy reached into her other jacket pocket with her free hand. She pulled out a vial of red liquid. "My blood. Hopefully this will give you something to go on to find a way to make immunes." She handed it to Menser.

He held it up and looked at it. "This will help."

"I'll get you more when you need it."

"What I really need, Miss Dufresne? Intel. I need to know what is going on in that Church. When they decide to make a military move? I need to know, preferably before the tanks start rolling if you know what I mean?"

Tracy nodded. "When I know, you'll know, Colonel." She looked in the backseat. "Nice to see you again, Walter. If I wasn't holding a high explosive, we could have some fun. Maybe next time."

She opened the SUV door and slid out. A moment later, she disappeared in the crowd.

Menser watched her go. "Goddamn, Agent Jones, no wonder you're in love."

The End