Matthew chapter twelve verse thirty three says, “Either make the tree food and his fruit good; or else make the tree corrupt and his fruit corrupt: for the tree is known by his fruit.” What does that make me? Kendra Hecksford died years ago leaving Hex. My parents were part of something so dangerous that it could not be controlled. Why did the program exist?
I began to discover more after The Corps death. After outrunning the police Downtown I made myself scarce for a few weeks. I cut my hair and dyed it. Eventually I was drawn to the cemetery. I visited my father's grave. Near his tombstone a guy dressed in a gray suit stood near it and waved me over. I felt no burn in my brain and walked up to him.
“Ms. Hecksford?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said. “You look very different,” he said checking a photo taken of me during training. “I am so low
down on the totem pole so killing me would do nothing. I was told to give this to you upon the deaths of three key members. I have been waiting here for you a few weeks.” He handed me the note, put his hands up, and walked away. I opened the letter and took it back to a car I “borrowed.”
“Hey, Hex,
If you are reading this that means I am dead and probably fucking pissed off. I can only hope your fine ass is doing well and not too mad that I am dead and can't fuck with you. Not like THAT! Inside this letter should be a disc. On this disc is the entire history of the program. Fuck, I hate calling it that. The real name for it is 'Project: Killswitch.' You'll find out why some of us could do shit others couldn't. What part your mama and daddy had in it and why you were chosen and not your brothers. And why I fell in love with you. Don't believe everything Raves tells you! He fucked way more bitches than I did. Did that offend you? Too bad. Write Raves ‘Kilo Sierra Echo.’ He'll know what it means. Do some good with what you got, Hex. Fight crime or some shit. I don't know. Just don't die. Even though right now You’re lying in a bed because I put a bullet in your head You’re still fine as fuck. Damn. I can't believe I'm dead. See you sometime.”
L.T.
I placed the letter on my lap and flipped the disc over in my hand. I headed to a small hotel room and placed the disc into my player. Before it started I stopped it. Maybe this was shit I didn't want to know? Maybe it was time for me to just fucking move on.
“Kilo Sierra Echo?” I said and my brain burst into flames. Blood spewed from my mouth and nose. I fell to my knees and watched the blood gather into the carpet. What the fuck was happening to me? I felt the blood in my ears as everything became muffled. The disc began even though I had stopped it. On the screen was L.T smiling.
“Are you sure you wanna watch this?” he asked. “Just one warning: Think it all you want, but don't ever say it aloud. You don't wanna know what'll happen.” As he talked I saw things that I never wanted to see. I heard things that I never wanted to hear. I could not move. I was in too much pain to even reach for the remote and stop the disc. After six hours of agonizing pain I was finally able to move. I crawled over and tried to stop the disc but it would not. I unplugged it but it continued to play. I had enough strength to climb to bed and try and use pillows to muffle the sounds of my mother being tortured. My father beating the table because more recruits were dying faster than he expected. Footage of my brothers being watched at sporting events by The Corps and my parents. Just when I thought I had enough L.T appeared on the screen again.
“’Project: Killswitch’ was supposed to be the ultimate security for this goddamned country. So don't think your pops was this horrible Dr. Frankenstein or some shit. A pussy, yes. But not evil. He had good intentions. So did your mama. The Corps, or as he was known back then, General Watson, was the one that fucked it all up. Then along came Kilo Sierra Echo. K.S.E. It means 'Kill Switch Engaged.' The ultimate weapon for one of us if shit got heavy. Properly trained a graduate could takeon a small fucking army by himself by muttering those words. That’s why I told you not to say that shit aloud and to write it to Raves. I can say it all I want because I know shit you don't. That’s to let him know that I am dead and shit is getting really real, real fast. If you say that shit and live then you’re the shit. But use it only when you are sure you can't win. I gotta bounce. You should be awake and I can't wait to see you. Later, Hex.”
How can something be too much and not enough at the same time?