Intercepts

by T.J. Payne

No matter how long I must search, no matter how far my mind must travel to get there, I will find Joe Gerhard. I will find those he loves. I will torture them. I will bring pain to them. Then I will bring pain to him. To Joe Gerhard. The master of my Hell.

“Bath first? Or dinner?” he asked. Bishop continued rolling on her back from side to side as she swatted at the air like a drunken cat, oblivious to Carson’s presence.

“I feel nothing… They did this to me… He did this to me…” Carson looked up, startled. “What?” “He loves you, Kate… You are his weakness…”

Then Carson saw it. Bishop’s jaw, lips and tongue moved, but not in some random assortment of shapes. She formed words. “I know you know him. His name is Joe. Joe Gerhard,” she said, her eyes still staring at the wall as though there was someone else in the room she was talking to.

“I see you,” she said directly to Carson. And then, Bishop’s right hand — still free of the safety mitt — swung out. It latched onto the hood of Carson’s suit.

She tore through his outer suit and then progressed quickly through his t-shirt underneath. At last she reached the flesh of his back. Her hands, never slowing, clawed at the flesh, tearing out large chunks of skin as she went. She ripped out bone and organ. Never pausing.

“You got it, boss,” came the response. “And what about Case 10598?” “What about it?” Joe asked. “Everything is set up in Cell Eight. Should we proceed?”

“There’s been an incident on Level Two. Due to that, we’ll be gathering no intercepts today.

“For those of you who don’t know, yes, there’s been a loss-of-life,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady and dispassionate. “It’s a sad day for our little family. I know you’re all aware of the rules, but I’m gonna remind you anyway. You are not to contact the deceased’s family without Company approval. No money, no cards, no phone calls.

His practiced glances revealed no abnormalities. In each cell, the Antennas — all with shaved heads, hospital gowns, and protective mitts on their hands — lay on their floors, gently rolling from side to side.

“What happened?!?” “Your ex-wife shot herself. In the head.”

“Hey, Riles,” Joe said. “Sup, Dad.” Something about saying that word — “Dad” — seemed to un-pin some emotional grenade in her. Her legs wobbled. Her mouth twisted into a mix of shock and complete despair. Before Joe knew it, he had his arms wrapped around his daughter, who suddenly felt smaller and more fragile than any teenager should feel.

wasn’t much light, but it was enough. Enough for Riley to see her. She was just within view of the corner of Riley’s eye. The light couldn’t penetrate too deeply into the hallway, but Riley could see that white gown. The woman stood there. Silent. Unmoving.

Riley lingered in the living room. “All clear,” Tyler’s voice announced from her bedroom. With her head down and arms clutched together, Riley stomped off down the hall. She took a right turn and joined Tyler and her father in her bedroom. AND THERE SHE WAS.

“I can’t feel it!” She flashed her fingernails and dug them deep into her own cheek, scraping out a chunk of flesh. Blood rushed to the slit she created on her pale face. It ran down her white cheek and splattered to the floor in a thick stream. “I CAN’T FEEL IT!”

Joe lingered in front of Bishop’s chamber for a moment. He looked at the woman on the floor in the hospital gown. Her eyes rolled and her mouth grinned. What was it Riley had said? The woman she saw had black hair? Down to her shoulders. Pale face. A hospital gown.

Joe cleared his throat. “Well, um, when urgent or high-profile intercepts are needed, that’s the Antenna we trust most. Tunes faster. Intercepts are cleaner. There’s more detail. The ratings for Antennas 201 are just better.” “Bishop has had seventy-one tunings,” Chuck reported. “And the next highest?” Aguirre asked. “That would be Ferro at… twenty-three,” Chuck said.

“Just that it’s a bad fucking idea to tune Bishop again so soon after what happened. But I’m just a fucking doctor. What do I know?”

Before he left, he glanced one more time through the window. Bishop’s eyes had stopped roaming. They stared straight ahead, seemingly fixed on something. They were looking at Joe.

Joe watched, stunned, as the straps that bound Bishop’s head loosened and stretched, giving way to an extra half-inch of slack. But that was all Bishop needed. Instead of using the relieved tension as an opportunity to pull away from the contraption that propped open her eyelids, Bishop leaned into the eye hooks. “She’s scraping out her corneas!” Chuck shouted.

Joe clicked on his microphone again. “Describe everything you see. Describe everything you hear. Describe everything you smell. If people speak a language you do not understand, repeat their words out loud. If you see writing in a language you cannot read, describe its shape. Omit no detail.” Bishop moaned.

She had no reason to awaken right then, other than that she felt her presence. She felt the eyes gazing at her. She felt the cold, wispy touch of her breath. She felt her screams rattling around inside her ears. Even if Riley couldn’t hear the screams, they were there, within her head. She knew the woman was near.

“What happened to you?” Riley whispered. “I don’t remember.” “Why me?” The woman stood silently. Riley wondered if the words had reached her. She was about to ask the question again when the woman finally spoke. “Because. You know him,” she said.

“I… I can’t take it anymore,” Riley finally said. “I’m scared of what I might do. I’m scared that I might…” the words and the thought trailed away from Riley’s lips before she could finish them. There was a pause. And then, with a sad conviction, she said, “I’m scared that I’ll end up like Mom.”

The more Joe stared, the more his eyes strained, the more that the shadows in that area of the table seemed to swirl and move. The feed had the slightest delay. It caused a hiccup. A small glitch in the unfocused background images. He leaned even closer. The shadows seemed to coalesce. Joe’s eyes went wide and the breath became trapped in his throat. The faintest outlines of a pale figure emerged from the blackness.

Judging by the way her mouth hung open and her eyes widened in fear, everywhere she looked, she saw something. She made heaving, gasping sounds as tears began to stream, uncontrollably, down her face. The tears of some horrible realization. “She’s everywhere… she’s everywhere…” Kate cried out.

It was then that she considered that there was only one potential sure-fire way to rid herself of the woman. One way for her to sleep. One way to see her mom again. She envisioned pressing a knife against her wrist.

“Did your mom tell you about your dad and me?” Hannah asked. “No,” Riley said, her eyes now gazing intently at the center of the table. “Did you overhear it in a conversation? Or a fight when you were young? Some little comment that your mom said that you’re only now putting together?” “No.”

Joe stared at his screen. Looking back at him was a bloody, pale face. Long, black hair framed the face, but Joe immediately recognized who it was. He knew her only with a shaved head, but he knew it was her. It was Bishop.

“—she’s been watching us for ten years. Riley says this whole time she’s just been sealed off, growing stronger, and watching our personal lives.”

“We have to report this.” “No.” Joe grasped her wrist, holding back her phone in his gentle but firm grip. “Joe, Bishop is communicating.” “I know.” “HQ might be able to help.” “I know exactly what kind of help the Company will provide.” “Oh, come on. They wouldn’t—” “You know they would, Hannah. They’ll lock Riley up. They’ll study her. They’ll push this research as far as it will go.” “But we’ll be there. We can protect her.” “We’ll vanish. They’ll see to it.”

“Gentlemen,” Joe said, interrupting them. “We’re gonna do a full-system reset today.”

He watched as two of his medical team carried a stretcher out through the airlock from Bishop’s chamber. The black plastic body bag was zipped up tight.

“I’m in your truck.” Joe froze. His jaw tightened and his hand clenched on the phone. “What?” “I’m here. At your work. Please come. We need to talk.” “Riley, honey, how do you know where the office is?”

She simply said, “They showed me.”

Chuck highlighted the cell of the Antenna and turned on the speakers in the Control Room. The man’s voice came through clear, although emotionless. “Come outside, Dad. I’m right here,” he said.

“Is she still here?” Joe asked. “She is gone,” Riley responded, her voice robotic. “Then what’s happening? Why are you here? What are you seeing?” “Before she left, she showed us how to be free.”

A sliver of a grin stretched across Riley’s face. “She is ours. We can do what we want with her,” Riley said. Suddenly, her hands shot up to her head. She pressed her thumbs into her eyes. They began to dig in deep.

“What do you want?” Joe asked. “Give us what you gave her.” Riley said. “Who?” “Our friend.” “You mean Bishop? I… I don’t understand.” “You set her free. You took away her darkness,” Riley said. “You gave her light. You gave her touch. You gave her everything.”

Strangely, despite the sheer amount of flesh that had been peeled from her own body, Bishop never touched her mouth. There was blood and pulpy tendon everywhere, except for Bishop’s little, immaculate grin.

“Joe, what are you saying?” His eyes became cold. “Somewhere in my mind, I decided that the only way to help Riley was to burn down my work. Burn it all. But tell them, whoever asks, that it was my choice. That I’m the one who cracked.

“There are eleven more gas lines,” he said. “You’re going to work fast and do it as quick as possible. Tyler’s probably coming down the access shaft right now. I want the lines cut. I want it done in ways that can’t be immediately repaired.” “They’ll tear themselves apart,” Hannah said. “Yes,” Joe said sharply.

Tariq stood there and blinked in confusion. This wasn’t the stairwell at all. He was in one of the Antenna’s chambers.

It was when Tariq looked back at them from over his shoulder that Joe realized what was happening. He saw it in Tariq’s eyes. The kid was looking right at them, but not seeing them. Tariq was seeing something else entirely, and whatever he saw filled him with fear.

“She’s freeing the others,” Hannah said, a sense of realization evident in her voice. “That was their plan. They coordinated this. They needed Joe to get them all off the gas so they could move.”

“Welcome to our world,” the voice said. And suddenly, like the flipping of some switch… CLICK… all of Joe’s senses turned on. That’s when he felt the pain.

Judging by the fleshy Hawaiian-shirt-covered torso in the center of the hall, Chuck hadn’t made it out alive. Someone had tackled him from behind. They had shredded his shirt from the back and ripped out sections of spine and rib, then flung those around. His arms, legs, and head had been pulled from his body and thrown to various ends of the hall.

“IT’S A HALLUCINATION!” Hannah screamed. *** Tyler heard Hannah’s shout, but he still couldn’t quite process it.

His clothes had been ripped from him. His skin lay in shreds around his legs, arms, and chest. They had peeled back his flesh, taking care not to dig too deep. They hadn’t torn out his organs or nerves like they did to the others. They had carved around his arteries but didn’t sever them. Despite all the blood, he wasn’t bleeding out. He was alive. Very much alive.

“Kill them,” Joe said weakly. “Kill them all.” Tyler wasn’t sure if the voice came from Joe or if it had been implanted in his own head. But suddenly, the only thing that felt real were the bullets in his gun. Without another word, Tyler fired. Single shots. Controlled shots. Head shots. Bang! Bang! Bang!