Free Digital Heretic by Terry Schott Page A

predator… Humans. They are ferocious creatures, really not that impressive to look at, but effective at killing most anything when they put their minds to it.
      Then I recall my brother Carl, and I smile. 
      Perhaps humans are not apex predators either…
     
    Carl
     
      I can’t remember the last time I was this close to death.
      I reach down and press my hand to my side, then hold it up to the faint light. Yeah, that’s my blood, and lots of it. 
      The pain isn’t so bad; I’ve learned how to deal with pain. No one could cause pain like Cassie. She was an artist at delivering pain, and I had the misfortune of being her canvas for a quarter century. I was lucky to have killed her before she could finish me, but I’ve thanked her often for the lessons she taught.
      This isn’t good. Remembering stuff from thousands of years ago while I bleed out is a waste of time. Focus, Carl. The world needs you, old man.
      I laugh at the thought. The world will celebrate when I leave it, but I’m not going to leave if I can help it. 
      There’s still so much to kill.
      My side is numb from the wound. I’ve been running for the past two hours. That likely hasn’t helped it. I recognize where I am and start to slow down. I’m close to safety.
      I lean forward to knock on the door and stumble roughly into it. My legs are shutting down. Can’t seem to raise my hand to knock on the door. I hear sound on the other side, maybe my fall was enough to get his attention.
      “ Stitch,” I growl. “Open the door, I’ve got work for you.”
      “ Who is it?” the voice on the other side of the door whispers.
      “I’ll put my hand through this door if you ask another question. Then you’ll know who it is.”  That should get him to open up; he doesn’t like replacing doors.
      The door opens suddenly and he grabs me roughly by the shirt and drags me inside. The door slams shut as soon as my feet make it inside. It’s dark in this room. I can see two candles burning in the corners; smoke floats around lazily. I sniff but can’t quite make out what it is. That’s another bad sign for me; I usually have a good sniffer. I try to sit, but Stitch keeps his hands on my collar and drags me over to the kitchen table. He lifts me up then puts me down hard; I hear dishes fall to the floor as my legs hit the table. 
      He comes into my line of sight, sticking his filthy face near mine. “Damn, Carl, you’re not in a good way.”
      “ Really?” I try to sound menacing, but I don’t care too much about how I sound. “Can you fix me?” I ask.
      “ I can try,” he says.
      “ Will you?”
      “ If you say please,” he says.
      “ Ha!”
      “ Well, you still have your sense of humour, at least. What happened?” 
      “ New girlfriend,” I say.
      Stitch shrugs. “Fine, don’t tell me.” I can see him putting something into a syringe. Good, he’s going to help. “Nothing for the pain,” I say, “and don’t put me out.”
      “ This isn’t our first dance, Carl. It’s antibiotics. You need it.”
      I nod and he gives me the shot.
      “Okay, I’ll do what I can. Just lay there and shut up. You start thrashing around and yipping at me and I won’t put you out, I’ll just drag you outside and let you die.”
      “All right. How bad does it look?” I ask.
      He pokes his finger into my side and I hear a squishy sound. “That’s intestine. I’ll put it back in, but I think you’re finally gonna die.”
      “Don’t sound so sad.” I close my eyes and think of Cassie. She did worse than this to me — daily, at times. Of course, she had me strapped to a table in a clean room. Still, I’ve been through worse. 
      I know I’m safe here. I did my part and got here; the rest is up to Stitch. No use in worrying about things I can’t control.
      I let the pain wash over me as I pass out.

 
    Chapter 18
      It’s time t o meet Three. 
      I’ve spent the last