Free Monster Republic by Ben Horton Page B

hoped it would, and soon. Other wise there was a long night ahead. A night of just lying there, thinking about everything he had lost: his home, his family, everyone he really cared about. His whole life.

chapter nine
coming to terms
    Next morning, Cameron woke feeling rotten.
    He had lain awake for what felt like hours, his mind churning. When sleep had finally come, it had been like dozing in front of the TV, electronics buzzing away in a constant background hiss of static. Vague images had flashed through his mind – Marie, the Bloodhounds, Dr Fry – but nothing he could hold onto and call a proper dream. Now he was awake his body felt rested, but his mind was as confused as ever.
    Cameron wondered why Dr Fry hadn’t wired his subjects so they didn’t need sleep at all. It seemed a sensible thing to do if youwanted to create some sort of super-soldiers. Maybe he was working on it. But anyway, lack of sleep wasn’t his real problem.
    No, what was bugging Cameron most was the fact that all the questions that had kept him awake throughout the night were still with him in the morning, like a chesty cough that he couldn’t dislodge. Despite their endless cycling, they had gone nowhere. He couldn’t think his way through them.
    Maybe he could try talking. Speaking about his feelings wasn’t something Cameron enjoyed, but some of the monsters he’d seen the night before looked like they might have undergone similar ‘treatment’ at the hands of Dr Fry. Maybe they would understand how he felt.
    Cameron strained his enhanced hearing. Silence. No murmurs, no movements. The safe house sounded deserted. Rora had promised to take him somewhere where there were other people like him, but here he was, back on his own. With a sigh, Cameron got up and went looking for the bathroom. He foundit quickly, but he had barely got through the door when he stopped dead. He should have expected it, but the sight was still a shock.
    There was a mirror above the sink.
    Well, he did need a proper look at what had been done to him. If that didn’t wake him up, nothing would. Maybe that first time he’d seen himself in the lab window, shock had made his face seem worse than it was. Maybe shock had made his family react so badly. Maybe a second, more patient look now – now that he was prepared – would reveal a better picture.
    Deliberately avoiding a glance at the mirror, Cameron dipped his head towards the sink, ran the tap and splashed a couple of handfuls of water on his face.
    And froze. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that.
    Cameron waited for the flash, the cascade of sparks and the jolt of electricity, but nothing happened.
    He breathed a sigh of relief. There was so much to think about, so much to consider. New rules about how to go about everyday life– whole new minefields. Luckily it looked as if his new electronic eye was waterproof. That was something.
    Unable to put off the moment any longer, Cameron slowly raised his head and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. The glass wasn’t exactly spotless but it was a much sharper image than he’d got in the lab window.
    Sharper – and more shocking.
    A walking school reunion. Marie had been telling the truth. His face was a patchwork of bruises and scars, various features crudely stitched together. Just as she had taunted him the night before, Cameron had clearly been cobbled together from several bodies. That realization, as well as the portrait in the mirror, made him feel sick.
    Worse – much worse – he began to recognize some of the pieces.
    In the midst of the last night’s madness, Cameron hadn’t had time to think about what had happened to the rest of his class. Now, in the cold light of day, he was finding out. The horrible irony of it was that he had clearlybeen one of the lucky ones. One of the survivors.
    Some of the others had not been so fortunate.
    One ear and the top left-hand quarter of Cameron’s face was now black. From his first glimpse back in the