“Where is Jason? Is he okay?”
“Jason is fine. He got a couple scratches and bruises, but he was able to walk away from the accident on his own. He’s with our intelligence team, telling them everything that happened.”
Kyle was satisfied with this response, and couldn’t have said anything more as the machine started humming and his body started sliding away into the depths of the CT scan.
“Stay still, this’ll just be a few seconds,” the man assured him.
Kyle’s head slid into a confined place, the scanner humming above his face as it took a reading of his brain. He lay there for about thirty seconds, wondering why The Crew had one of these machines in their underground offices. Surely it wasn’t needed too often.
They might have run Exalls through this to see inside their bodies. The thought caused an instant spread of goosebumps across his back, the idea of lying on the same machine as them making him queasy.
His body slowly pulled out from the scanner, the soldiers waiting on each side again.
“I think I can walk on my own,” Kyle said.
“We can’t let you do that yet,” the woman replied. “Colonel’s orders. He doesn’t want you doing anything until you have all of the soreness rubbed out.”
“Do we have a massage therapist or something?”
“We have everything,” she replied with a grin.
They lifted and returned him to the stretcher. His body was already feeling better, but if they insisted on pampering him with a massage, then so be it. He had almost died in a violent car crash, after all.
They wheeled him back up the ramp with the same urgency, jogging through the office as the man pushed the stretcher and the woman matched his pace by his side. When they arrived to the colonel’s office they were both gasping for air, and put their hands on their hips as they caught their breath.
“Thank you both,” Colonel Griffins said. Kyle wanted to turn his head to see the colonel, but feared they might attack him for straining any of his muscles. Instead, he kept his eyes to the ceiling, seeing a woman in a chair out of the corner of his eye.
The two soldiers left and closed the door behind them.
“Wells,” the colonel grumbled. “This is Ms. Fletcher. She’s the head of our technology department, but is also a certified physical therapist.”
The woman stood up, joints popping, and her warm, smiling face appeared in Kyle’s vision. She studied him from behind a pair of round glasses, her light brown ponytail hanging limply to the side as she looked down to him.
“Hi, Kyle,” she said. “You can call me Fletch, like everyone else around here. Would you mind rolling over on your stomach?” She grabbed an arm and helped him rotate. “The colonel tells me your neck is stiff. Is there anywhere else that is sore?” She asked this as she ran fingers over the surface of his neck.
“Not really; it’s just my neck and upper back.”
“Understood. I’ll massage your whole back, but will focus on the upper area. You can go ahead, Colonel, don’t mind me.”
Colonel Griffins cleared his throat and began speaking just as Fletch sunk her fingers deep into Kyle’s flesh, applying an intense pressure on his neck. Kyle fought every urge to let out a grunt that felt more like a reflex than anything.
“We have a major issue, Kyle,” the colonel said in a softer voice. “I wouldn’t have called you back here if it wasn’t urgent. In fact, every Crew member across the country is headed this way as we speak.”
Kyle wanted to ask why, but kept his lips clenched to not let out a scream from the excruciating pain Fletch was applying to his back. It felt like she was trying to push her way through his skin to rip out his spine. His eyes welled with tears as the colonel continued.
“They’re coming to attack us, but all they want is you.”
“Me?” Kyle managed to ask in a tone that sounded like a cry for help.
“I’m afraid so. The Exalls were terrified of your grandmother, and we suspect they’ve kept an eye on you since her passing. Now they’re worried because you’re her direct bloodline. All of the attacks these last few weeks have been them recruiting new Exalls while making their way across the country. They’re here, and that’s who tried to kill you on the freeway.”
Kyle’s mind spun. Maybe now isn’t the right time to tell him about Sandra.
Fletch ran her forearm over Kyle’s back, and seemed to put all of her body weight into it. Kyle thought his eyes might pop right out of their sockets if she managed to push any harder. There was a brief moment of relief as she stood to adjust her position over him.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked quickly, before Fletch clamped down on his back for more punishment.
“That’s what I wanted to let you know. We have a plan, but it involves using you as bait. It’s not what it sounds like, though. Simply having you present with us is all the bait we need—it’s not like we’re going to dangle you in front of their eyes. You’ll be fully armed and suited with protection. And you’ll be behind our entire team of soldiers.”
Kyle felt the pressure on his back lighten. “When?” he asked.
“Tomorrow.” The colonel checked his watch. “Well, today. We don’t have much time. In fact, we’re out of time. They already tried to kill you tonight. If your head would have struck the window at just the right – or wrong – angle, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We don’t know if they know you’re alive, but we assume they do. They seem to know everything lately, and are always a step ahead of us. Do you remember your friend Brian?”
“Of course.”
“Well, you might have to kill him. I just want to put that out there so you’re not surprised. He is very much part of this group of Exalls trying to hunt you.”
Kyle thought back to the text messages that Mikey received on his phone from Brian. Brian was still alive, even if having no control of his body. His conscience still floated, crying for help to return to normal.
“Brian isn’t dead—he texted my other friend, Mikey.” Kyle let the words fly out of his mouth and strained his eyes to meet the colonel.
“What do you mean he ‘texted’ your friend?”
“When I was home, Mikey showed me. It was a chain of messages from a blocked number, saying it was Brian trapped and trying to get out.”
Fletch stepped back and shook her hands. “All set. Anything else you need from me, Colonel?”
“Functioning ETD’s would be good. Thanks for your help.”
Kyle sat up and put his shirt back on, his clothes piled neatly on the corner of the colonel’s desk. His entire body completely relaxed, like he was floating on an inflatable bed in a swimming pool. The pain had been worth it, seeing how he now felt drunk with relaxation.
Fletch packed up her duffel bag and quickly left the office, likely not wanting to hear where this conversation was headed.
“Look, Kyle, I already know where you’re going with this; you want to save your friend. I’m afraid it’s too late. We can only save those who have been partially infected by Exall blood. He was infected four years ago, and has since been on the run with this doctor. There’s zero chance his blood level is less than ninety percent Exall blood.”
“Why not try?”
“We have tried. The blood is too toxic and kills anything we try to infuse it with, human blood included.”
Kyle scrunched his face, wishing there was a way out of this entire situation, but knowing it would never happen.
“Look, you should probably head to sleep,” the colonel continued. “Tomorrow is a big day for all of us. Security will be heightened all night, so we’ll be safe here. Tomorrow we have to take action before it’s too late.”
Kyle didn’t know how he’d sleep while scheduled to be live Exall bait the next day. It also became clear that a conversation about Sandra would have to wait. Aside from putting more on the colonel’s plate, it didn’t sound like there were any resources to even send to Denver at the moment. Whether he t
old him now, or later, they would still have to wait until this battle with the Exalls passed before doing anything.
“Thank you, Colonel.”
Kyle stood, his body feeling light as a feather, and held out a hand to shake.
“Thank you, young man. Let’s rest tonight, and tomorrow we can go out there and make your grandmother proud.”
They shook hands and Kyle departed for his room, knowing sleep would be an impossible task.
28
Chapter 28
The heavy rain continued well into the night and deep into the woods. The doctor cackled during the entire drive back, many times looking up to the truck’s ceiling and howling like someone had just told him the world’s greatest joke.
Brian sat in the passenger seat, his hands with a death grip on the door’s handle ever since they had arrived to the airport over an hour ago, waiting for Kyle’s arrival. He had tried slipping out of the trance the doctor held over him, desperately wanting to send another message, this time to Kyle’s phone. Only this time he was blocked, trapped within his own mind and unable to do anything but watch the terror unfold.
He remained silent while they sped away in the dark night, the streets slick and shiny with rain.
When they approached the woods where they were hiding, the doctor said, “We have company.”
Brian didn’t know what that meant, and didn’t ask. The doctor didn’t sound worried, perhaps even a bit excited, but it had become impossible to know what madness was riling him up recently.
They reached the open space where they had parked their truck earlier, tucked behind a thick stand of trees. There were another dozen cars and trucks jammed together in the lot, and Brian’s mind immediately sunk into a state of complete panic.
Every day that passed, going back four years when he had undergone this transformation, he suspected was one day closer to his inevitable death. He was on the run from a secret military whose only job was to kill those like him. Going closer to Washington where they were headquartered seemed like the worst idea in the world, but here he was, out of his own control, as the doctor hijacked his mind and made him his involuntary sidekick.
They parked and the doctor hopped out of the truck with a childish grin stuck on his face. “Tonight has already been so intense, and it’s only getting better.”
Brian followed suit, dragging his feet through the dirt and freezing at the sound of distant howling.
The doctor sensed his concern and explained, “Our people have arrived. I told them when and where to meet, and here they are. Do you hear that sound they’re making? That’s the sound of fulfilling our destiny.”
He threw his head back and howled to join the chorus, reminding Brian of a werewolf on the eve of a full moon.
“Let’s go,” the doctor growled, starting into the woods, rocks and sticks crunching beneath every step like old bones.
Their campsite was a quarter mile into the trees, where a fifty-foot radius opened up on flat land. They had a small tent, and Brian used it each night to try and sleep while the doctor wandered the woods like a Sasquatch.
They jogged through the trees, their vision unaffected by the darkness of night as they could see as clearly as if the sun were at high noon. The howling grew louder, and the soft orange glow of a fire splashed across the trees in a haunting strobe.
“I’m here, ladies and gentlemen,” the doctor shouted as they stepped onto the flatland. At least 500 Exalls were huddled around multiple campfires, their gray faces tight with intensity, but their expressions relaxed at the sight of Dr. Klemens.
Their huddle tightened, each Exall seeming to take another step closer to the fire, rubbing shoulders with each other as they gazed in unison at the doctor walking toward them, his hands held high, grin widening with each step.
“My good friend and I have already started tonight’s festivities. Tomorrow we FEAST!”
The crowd cheered, screaming, howling. Brian looked around, sure the noise in the silent night would draw the attention of a park ranger who would have the misfortune of tumbling into this mess with no chance of escaping.
Just another recruit, Brian thought.
“More of us are coming,” the doctor said. “A lot more. When we gather in the morning, there will be 1,500 of us, and once we have that, we’ll make our move.”
They howled again, like a pack of hyenas, and Brian wondered if they even knew what they were going to do in the morning. Dr. Klemens had been vague with every one of his statements. The Exalls were likely just brainwashed, programmed like robots to cheer for any words that left the doctor’s mouth.
Just then, an idea struck Brian, and he stepped forward, sliding in front of the doctor, all Exall eyes now glued to him.
“Are you all ready to kill?!” he shouted.
The Exalls looked around, unsure how to react, then howled.
“Can you taste the human blood in your mouths?!” Brian shouted again.
The Exalls responded with more excitement, and Brian felt the doctor grinning proudly behind him.
“Tomorrow we’re going to snap their necks and feast until there are none left!”
The Exalls lost all means of control as they jumped, whistled, and screamed to the night sky.
Brian had only wanted to see if they would respond to him. If they would, he’d have a chance to prevent whatever doom waited on the other side of dawn.
The doctor’s hand fell on Brian’s shoulder and squeezed it briefly.
“Let’s settle down, everyone. Save your energy for tomorrow,” the doctor said. “The night is yours to do as you please. If you want to relax here, please do. If you want to go recruit some more people for our big day, go right ahead. Just be back here by 7 A.M. sharp. That’s when the rest will be here.”
They gave one more cheer for the doctor, and some dispersed away from the fire. Others sat down in the dirt, settling into their positions for the rest of the night.
Brian wondered where the other 1,000 Exalls were coming from. Were they just marching down the street, walking here like a group of zombies following the scent of blood? Or were they all driving trucks like he and the doctor had on their trip across the country?
Brian wanted to sleep, but knew he’d never be able to. He also toyed with the thought of slipping away from the group. Perhaps there were enough Exalls where he could take off without the doctor noticing, assuming he still wasn’t in his mind like a leach refusing to let go. If he could make it to the truck undetected, he just might be able to make it all the way to Kyle, warn him about what was coming, and either get killed by a swarm of Crew people, or disappear into the night.
The only problem was that the doctor never seemed to leave. Brian looked and found him mingling with his new Exalls, laughing, clapping hands on their backs as they swapped stories about traveling across the country as an alien species.
Oh, you killed people at a gas station, too? Haha! How original, because that’s what we did on our way. Those silly country bumpkins and their pickup trucks make it so easy for us in the middle of nowhere!
Brian had the confidence built up, only needing an opportunity to turn and make a mad dash for freedom. He watched the doctor from across the open space, much like a hawk tracking its prey from hundreds of feet in the sky.
At one point, the doctor let his gaze wander across the gathering and met Brian’s intense eyes. He winked at him, as if daring him to try something.
He can’t possibly know what I’m trying to do, Brian thought. But deep down he knew the doctor could probably hear any thought that popped into his head as clearly as if Brian were standing on top of a nearby tree and shouting it.
A prisoner in my own head, he reminded himself. And the doctor nodded as if he agreed.
He wished he could die, but wasn’t even sure of how to kill himself. He didn’t bleed like a human, didn’t even feel pain. During one of their earlier days together, the doctor was proud to demonstrate to Brian just how strong their new bodi
es were. Giggling, of course, he had pulled out a scalpel from his work bag, and slashed a quick gash across his leg. The black tarry blood had oozed out and formed a pool on the ground like a car leaking oil. The doctor howled when he saw the sheer terror on Brian’s face. He handed the scalpel to Brian, who promptly chucked it away and took off running for his tent.
Later that night, Brian experimented, first by biting down on his lip as hard as he could. He felt nothing, as if he had bitten into a thick cut of raw sirloin. He then scratched at his own flesh on his arms and legs, again feeling nothing, and not seeing so much as the little red and white streaks that accompanied a claw mark. He progressed later that night, as the tug of fear wore off, and grabbed a switch blade they had found in one of their first stolen trucks. He cautiously cut at the flabby skin of his calf, not wanting to stab at it like a serial killer, but rather use the precision of a heart surgeon. A line of blood appeared, but no pain accompanied it. When he cut himself, his flesh started to turn the gray color that was common for Exalls, and this was when reality started to settle in his mind. It was the first time he accepted what he had become, and wondered what abilities he had beyond a resistance to pain. He raised the switchblade and stabbed himself in the thigh, bracing for a burst of screeching pain, but nothing ever came.
It may have been the first and only time Brian smiled as an Exall, fear washed away by a new sense of invincibility. Who wouldn’t want to live forever, after all?
Brian had lost sight of this feeling, the maniacal doctor distracting him from all the beauty that life as an Exall had to offer. Why have I been so ungrateful? he wondered, finding the doctor in the crowd and shooting him a grin. I was given this chance for a reason, and all I want to do is piss it away to save my friend who will kill me when he gets the chance.
A new confidence now bubbled up within Brian. A confidence that he could leave a legacy as one of the deadliest Exalls to have roamed the planet. A confidence that engrained the belief that he would kill Kyle before Kyle killed him.
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