Sons of Abraham: Pawns of Terror Read Online Free

Abraham replied. “However, it is unnecessary. I was astonished to find her in this condition.”
    “Really?” Jenna stamped. “How’d you expect to find her?”
    Abraham looked down to his daughter, brushing a pale finger against the side of her face. A faint smile formed on his tight lips as he withdrew his hand and folded his arms over his narrow chest.
    “She’s only twenty years younger than I am,” he stated. “I expected to find a grave. She was a child when I made her a Cyber. I’m guessing she’s in her late twenties now.”
    “Yeah, about that,” Jenna started. “How exactly did you decide who to turn into Cybers? Was there a certain trait you looked for? Organ donors may be?”
    “Not quite,” he laughed. “There was a test performed on them before the procedure. We worked within what used to be London. Children and young people did an aptitude test. I monitored their scores. When a candidate came along, I would check their test history.”
    “So she volunteered?”
    “No. Poor thing was in a car accident. She’d been in a coma for three months when her parents signed the waiver. I warned them for hours that her memories would be lost. I never have seen a couple fill with such joy when she woke, then such sorrow when she couldn’t recall whom they were.”
    “So sad,” she added, tracing the girl’s face with the back of her finger. She didn’t know why she felt compelled to touch the unconscious woman, but something about the sorrow in Abe’s voice made her feel for the woman. “So was she always bald?”
    “Oh no,” Abraham replied. “The cryo caused that. It should grow back. As well as her skin color.”
    “Skin color?” she stammered.
    “Yes,” he said. “The freezing process crystallizes the water in the cells. Her parents were of mix race. One African, one Caucasian. Her skin is usually a light brown color, with curly brown hair to match.”
    “That explains the lips,” she muttered without thinking.
    Abraham looked up to her, his brow furrowed in distaste.
    “I’d rather hoped that racism had died a long time ago,” he told her.
    “It’s just an observation,” she shrieked, jumping back from the table, her face turning pink. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear Abe.”
    Abraham leaned over the table, his head hanging low against his chest. Jenna couldn’t tell if he was looking down, or if his focus was up in her direction. The lack of pupils made it impossible to tell what the Cyber was looking at.
    “No, I should apologize,” he whispered. “I’m upset and exhausted. Will you help me with her, please?”
    Jenna stormed around the table and threw her arms around the disheartened man. His head slumped onto her shoulder as her hand clutched the back of his shirt. She felt his chest stutter but knew his eyes were not capable of producing tears. She couldn’t imagine such a hell.
    “Of course, I’ll help you,” she whispered.
    ***********
    Vice President Jana Wilkes had to maneuver well out of her way to avoid stepping onto the grating that covered the middle of the floor. The location left much to be desired as she kept wringing her hands together, petrified she’d catch a disease from the slime and filth that covered the walls. She made a mental note to burn her shoes. She swore under her breath. The shoes were expensive, a gift from her late sister. The blue leather heels were hard to come by, shipped all the way from Mesa nearly ten years ago.
    She had reached the sub-basement of the abandoned structure, the cool, damp air making her wish she’d brought a jacket to the ordeal. The foundation of the building was cracked, a faint trickle of groundwater proving that anything can be washed away, given enough time. In the center of the barren basement rested two screens resting on a portable station, the familiar site of Mr. Jones guarding the units, waiting for his guest to arrive.
    “Could you possibly have picked a worse spot?” she asked,