SUPERWORLD

Clayton III

Sleep had been bliss, even if it had been involuntary. Nine identical men in sci-fi pods , naked as the day they were born and old as the day they had been left for dead at a hospital was not a sight that most men could endure, if any. And so, Clayton Barnes convinced himself that he wasn't a 'Candy-ass pansy' for fainting at the sight of Dallas Preston. Though he recognized his feelings to be valid, it didn't help him overcome them.

A lie? Nah, it all happened for real. So, the truth, then? Nah, he was pretending.

Clay went around in this infinite cycle as he stared at the ceiling of a cheap motel Marco had stopped at to give everyone a chance to rest outside the car. Clay could understand the choice, in this instance, to slow down while being pursued, but he couldn't understand Marco's decision to 'activate' the thing.

"We need answers, he's got 'em." Marco had tried to explain calmly, but Clayton didn't care.

"Just keep that thing away from me!" Clay had warned.

Clay, who had feigned sleep since waking in the car, was not tired after being given the relief of true sleep every so often during his pantomime. The moments of peace he'd earned in the car were now coming back, having only been a waylaying of this infinite track he thought he'd run until he was dead.

Dallas ain't real? But I met him. That ain't his real name? He ain't real.

Marco snored lightly and the two scientists slept shackled to a bed. At Clay's request, the clone stayed in the car, the clone was only too happy to oblige, having a strange docility that betrayed it as an imposter of the fiery, combative talk show host.

Can't be an imposter of someone who don't exist. But then who's he pretending tah be? Aww, tah hell with it!

Clay shot up from his bed and charged toward the thin motel room door. His boots stopped a few feet from the door, fear having frozen over the weak trickle of Clay's feigned resolve. He tried to extend a hand to the door knob, it stopped five inches from the faux brass. He pulled his hand back but stopped again before fully retracting it. He thought about reaching out again, then thought about pulling his hand in, then thought about going back to bed, then about shooting the clone, then about shooting himself to make the horrible loop end.

God fucking damn it! Clay squealed in his head, as bitter tears broke out of his eyes, stinging him with the pain of frustration that choked his mind.

If he went out and confronted the clone, he might get answers, on the other hand, he might get answers. Clay wanted to punch something or kick something so hard with his boots that it broke, shattered, or otherwise fell into violent, satisfying, disrepair, but to wake Marco would lead to Marco asking questions, which wasn't allowed. And there was his answer

I ain't going out tah talk tah the clone...I'm going out to break something where I won't wake up Marco! Clay snatched up the keys and fled out into the night so his placebo pretext didn't wear off.

Stepping out into the night brought Clay immediately into his confrontation, as the car was parked just outside the door of their room. Behind it was the road that led to the highway, and beyond that, the dark outline of the trees. The backdrop gave the SUV the appearance of a bear emerging into human territory, ready to wreak havoc.

The boy gulped as he stared into the car windshield knowing that, just below his line of sight, the clone lay sleeping.

He pushed the unlock button on the key FOB.

The car beeped open.

Clay stepped past the light gray walkway and onto the black asphalt, entering the danger zone.