Read Cain's Blood for Free Online

disgruntled?”
“how could he be? DSTI was practically his company. he could do
just about anything he wanted.”
“ ‘Just
about.’
What couldn’t he do? Was he working with a competitor? Influencing the stock market? Did he have money issues? Or
maybe he did it for the same reason you guys do a lot of things around
here.” he waved his hand, encompassing the acres of laboratories and
observation rooms surrounding them. “To see what would happen.”
The geneticist looked directly at him, brought the clipboard to his
chest. Cleared his throat. Castillo got the distinct impression that something of what he’d said had struck a little too close to home. Interesting .
“So,” erdman said. “What now?”
What now?
Castillo thought again of just leaving all this blood and moving on.
Going home. rather, making a home somewhere. A new life. That had
been the damn plan, hadn’t it?
But the words came to him then, an ancient mantra he’d commandeered and employed for more than a year now: “I will endure it, having
in my breast a heart that endures affliction. For ere this I have suffered much
and toiled much amid the waves and in war; let this also be added unto that.”
Can I reappropriate the line for this task also?
he’d been in the army for fifteen years and served with Delta force
most of those. he’d learned the art of finding people there. Hunting them.
“Now I’ll do my job,” Castillo said.
The scientists at DSTI had told him that only six boys had escaped.
They were not being entirely truthful.
hOuSe CALL
     
JuNe 03, FridAy—FeltoN, de
     
    A
    lbert could not sleep again.
his head filled with too many thoughts. each idea,
memory, and image leading to another as he stared up at
the shadow-lined ceiling.
    Final exam in Spanish. No clue, gonna fail. Gym first bell. Why bother get
    ting dressed? Never understand a word the asshole teacher says anyway ’cause
the fucking guy’s from Honduras or somewhere. Don’t ever go nowhere. Never
even been on a plane. So fucking lame. Retarded. Bullshit class anyway. Wetbacks should just go home. Learn English like everybody else. Adrienne Haller
and her fanastico tits. Two rows back. About always see her big giant nipples.
Love to watch her. Her mouth. Love to watch her mouth. “¿De dónde venéis?”
the mouth says. “¿De dónde venéis?” Wanna see that new movie, the one with
that one guy. Sometimes, she runs the pen along her lip. You know what she’s
really thinking about. Probably has stinky breath. Ashtray-breath like my bitch
mother. Haller’s a big freezer, probably. Cock tease. Heard Mike Gaffney was
looking for me after school. Wants to kick my ass or some shit. Another total
cockwad. Need a fucking car. Go somewhere. New York. Or Vegas. Or Honduras. Anywhere. Take Mrs. Nolan somewhere and check out her nips awhile.
    he’d already jacked off three times. Trying to relax. To get tired.
he just wanted to sleep. No more thoughts. he had to keep busy or
they came back again. every night. Sick of youPorn and redTube and
the shitty pictures in his shoplifted Hustler magazines. The one girl
had dark hair on her arms. Like an animal. ripped those pages out and
flushed ’em down the toilet with his jizz all over them. Sick. Freak. Me.
    Mrs. Nolan. right across the street. No more than a hundred feet
away. he turned onto his side and looked out the window toward her.
her bedroom. She probably jacks off sometimes too. She’s, like, forty but even
old people do that stuff. MILFs do, for sure. Lies in bed and jams away with
a giant purple thingee. Probably her own fingers too. Probably sick of that gay
husband. Chris. Faggot. Bet she’d love—
    Noise from the living room. Something breaking. his drunk
mother stumbling over the end table again. No doubt pouring herself
a last round of Jack and Diet Coke before bed. If he was lucky, she’d go
straight to sleep. Some nights she’d come in and start laying into