Deadman Sequence

Scene 13: Tracking Shadows

A microfiction series by Lucas g. McIntire

“The Deadman Sequence: Scene 13 — Locked, Loaded, and Headed for the Police Station.”

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Scene 13: Tracking Shadows

The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint hum of monitors and the gentle glow of scattered LEDs. Damian rested against the edge of his workbench, observing Twila as she shifted uncomfortably on the steel stool. “So,” Twila said, “I was involved in the same government experiment as my brother, huh?”

“Not quite the same. But, a part of it, yes,” Damian admitted.

Twila folded her arms, struggling to process the revelation. “And I — what? — killed a guy, and now we’re caught up in some huge conspiracy?” Her voice wavered between incredulity and disbelief.

“First, yes — and more than one. Second, yes — but I don’t know exactly what they’re planning,” he said, fingers tapping the edge of a console. “All I know is it’s big. They used a lot of resources for this — namely, you and your brother. Sending you after Bison Walker was part of it.”

“Why Walker, though? He was just a donor — a hefty donor, but still, why not take out the senator himself?”

“My educated guess is that with the senator talking about conspiracy, assassinating him outright would most likely bolster the credibility of his claims. But right now, our problem is simpler. You could be reset if they catch you. And Daven…well, he’s been arrested — ”

“ — For my murders, apparently.”

“That’s how they’ve been using you two. But I had it backwards. Until last night, I thought you were the bait. And he was the trigger man. I was wrong. They send you in for the kill, and then him for the fall. We need to find a way to prevent you from being reset when we try to get him out.”

Twila’s brow furrowed. “Reset? As in erase everything?”

Damian nodded grimly. “Memory, training, everything except your instincts — the perfect cover for plausible deniability.”

Twila’s lips pressed together. She let the weight of the words settle before nodding. “Then let’s make sure that doesn’t happen. For both of us.”

Hours went by almost silently as they worked, bending wires, rerouting circuits, and accessing neural shielding protocols. When they finally stepped back, the protective measures were set. Two devices subtly attached behind her ears, with small blue lights indicating they were active. Twila’s pulse had slowed, fear replaced by a firm resolve.

“Alright. Let’s see if I can pick you up,” he said, typing on his keyboard. The tracing dot that once marked Twila’s location was now gone. “I believe this will do it.”

As Damian scanned his monitors for data, Twila’s eyes flicked toward the arsenal lined up against the far wall. “Now…” She strode forward, strapping on a dozen weapons with a fluid, almost theatrical precision. Pistols, knives, and a compact submachine gun. She paused, turned to Damian, and said, “…Let’s go get my brother.”

Damian turned, blinking at her. “You…know we’re going to a police station, right?”

Twila glanced down at her loadout, then grinned. “Right. I should leave one here.”

“Right,” Damian simply responded.

They arrived at the police station. Twila and Damian stepped inside — both unarmed — scanning the room of officers and clerks.

“Detective Halstrom?” Damian asked, approaching a man behind a cluster of monitors.

“Yes?” The officer looked up, suspicion in his eyes.

“We need information on Daven Keller. He was arrested this morning.”

“And who might you be?” asked the detective.

“I’m his sister, Twila Keller.”

“Well, isn’t he the popular one today.”

Twila and Damian glanced at each other in confusion.

“You’re about an hour late. He’s been — how should I say — transferred.”

“By who?” Damian asked.

Halstrom leaned back, pulling a file from under his desk. “Defense Department personnel took him. Along with blood samples, microscopes, files — everything. My desk is still here by some miracle. But my curiosity compelled me to pull this from surveillance.” He rifled through a folder and slid a surveillance photo across the desk.

Twila picked it up instinctively, eyes narrowing. The woman in the picture moved with calculated precision, a presence that commanded authority even in a still frame.

Damian froze. Recognition hit him like a punch. “That’s…that’s Commander Lisette Vale. I worked with her at DARPA. She knows exactly how to handle people like Daven — and exactly where they’d keep him.”

Twila’s gaze sharpened. “So that’s our lead?”

Damian nodded. “Yeah. And it’s not going to be easy getting him out.”

Thanks for reading Scene 13 of Deadman Sequence. If you haven’t read the previous scenes, you can read them here. If you like what you read, like it and leave me a note. Make sure to follow me to receive notifications when the next scene is released, or come back on Monday to see what happens next.