He threw them in the back of the rusty bed. Harrison caught Reilly on his chest. His eyes rolled back and he let out a tiny cry as a 69’ Chevelle rose from the dust, “Midnight Rider” by the same band ringing from its radio. A skeletal man sat at the steering wheel. His flesh had been preserved by some unnatural means. It became clear quickly from his wide, yellowing eyes that he also had been suspended in waking death.
The sands began to stir, scattering seaweed, shells and small anxious crabs. Rusted out muscle cars were rising all around. They heard Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven as the once-white-now-pearly-rusted ’59 Dodge Lancer rose from beneath a sandcastle, sliding it to the ground. The driver raced to Taylor’s side. They could see through the windows that his body was still mostly whole. He coughed as he’d woken up. His throat had an opening in it and they could see a speech device had replaced his voice box.
“Ah! Good morning, man! I smell the stench of Jezebel!” The suspended man chattered his decaying teeth together, eyes spinning wildly in pain. Reilly shrank to the bed, hands scrambling for a weapon amongst the grand assortment of tent-stake nails that littered it.
“It’s Croc! Now the boys can ride again! Let’s put this Jezebel in the ground, dogs!” Taylor reached to the back seat and swung a bronze-engraved .410 Droplock to his shoulder.
Down every dusty path that traced the river heading back into the proper city limits of New Orleans and spilled to this finger of beach, Leona’s girls (and their Doppelgangers) raced over the horizon, some on choppers, some in hotrods. They were rallying to their leader, who was indisposed now, stumbling back, sending electric fields from the sea to the shore in circling ripples. Joseph, Dexter, and unconscious Jane were struck in the back and thrown in many directions.
Reilly saw as two men, one on fire, on that shook the ground and a giant hairless ape-looking thing rose up out of the scene. They moved to get the situation under control, just as the Airforce planes were rolled out of formation by the wild electricity, circled back around, and began to open fire on the beach. The El Camino jerked forward and rolled her heavily against a toolbox. She hit her head and was out before she could assess what was going down.
*****
Chapter 15
“Hello, kids. It’s Auntie Kiara. Do you remember me?” Kiara’s hands flew to her head. Her voice was heavy, on the verge of tears.
“Auntie?” Kingsley froze, spine tingling. Oh God! He had enabled that sick woman! That sick woman that had mutilated her own children.
There were at least 50 of them. Kingsley held his breath waiting for an explanation. They cowered around the staircase. Now he could see that they’d received mutilations and skin graphs from animal cross-genetic experimentations. One child had the scaly skin on his cheekbones of a young female alligator. A little girl’s hair had grown like the down feathers of an owl, falling in shaggy clumps over her large, golden brown eyes. Still another little boy’s collarbone protruded from his skin, human bones intermingled in a patchy, unnatural gene-splicing with a tortoise shell, into forming a hard, restrictive collar that made him walk half-bowed from its weight.
A boy who could be no older than 15 stepped forward and Kingsley flinched drawing back, hiding behind Kiara out of knee-jerk instinct. This was obviously the leader of the little band of ragtag orphans. His teeth had been altered with obvious modifications of shark DNA. He now had three rows of disproportionate canines that seemed to scrape at and cut his gums. What was more, his jawline had developed the fleshy webbing of gills that obviously wouldn’t be any use to him. His neck had produced the space for dorsal fins but made out of natural human tissue so that they resulted in skin flaps like an earlobe is made from. His hair put off an unnatural, greenish/gray mucus that slicked it in place to his scalp. It would have been a chestnut brown if not for that. Lastly, they noticed how dark his eyes were. An inhuman shade of black that glittered ominously against the whites of his human eyeballs.
“Have you come back for the dead at last, Bleach?” He swung his Mossberg 500 Persuader onto his shoulder, spilling the bullets into his open palm. Gritting his insane teeth, he surveyed Kingsley critically.
“Who’s the stiff?”
“Your Uncle Lucien Kingsley, M.D. Sorry, you’ve never gotten to meet him. Lucien, say hello.”
Kingsley paused, stunned for a moment by the fact that she had called him their “uncle”. Did that mean she was beginning to feel the same way about him that he did about her?
“Speak up, Louie boy. I haven’t got all day. Only have a haunted hospital to protect from her crazed henchies. They’ll be back to do tests. I will defend this place until my second death!” The boy pulled back the pump on the Mossberg, loading it. Kiara nodded. Kingsley sputtered.
“Wh-What? What happened here?”
The boy smiled.
“Meet my brothers and sisters. We’re the result of one of the early surrogate mother pregnancy projects. That damned Caroline Riveaulx’s eggs were submitted to various willing females just itching to give birth for a woman they thought for years was incapable of pregnancy. I find it ironic that she had our little sister just a handful of years after she did us in. One Reilly Riveaulx, although I think she goes by Reilly Linden now.” The boy winked and shook his head.
“Ah, sorry. I forgot to introduce us by our proper names. In She-Hitler’s massive criminal enterprise we and our hospital home are now known as Revived Farms. My name is Jessop Riveaulx. Most people call me El Sharko though, because, well it’s obvious, yeah?” He chuckled, darkly.
“Your mother…Did this to you?” Kingsley’s hand flew to his chest, gripping where his heart spasms took his breath.
“Did you think her zombie experiments and all of her medical voodoo began with Harrison Kelley? Son, you’re dumber than you look.” Jessop chuckled and spit on the floor.
“What do you mean? First, I’m old enough to be your dad, and second—”
“Save the speech, old timer. You think that her experiment with Harry-the one you headed up- was her first one that really broke through and gave her all the secrets she needed? No, man! She’d been trying and failing to do it on her own for years. The Harrison’s Cure, the Andromeda Extract, those things finally just gave her the keys to this zombie freak show kingdom she’s been building on the blood of beasts and slaughtered relatives for decades. See, she finally cracked the secret of optogenetics and suspending animation at will and all the freaky stuff that we used to just see on the silver screen.
“She realized that to make DNA do what she wanted to do and create the master race for her Nazi world-wide dictatorship she’d have to just add some extra spice to the DNA recipe. She’d have to perform a series of DNA methylations that would make said DNA more easily ready to conduct electromagnetic pulses and pretty much conduct radioactive energy with its holographic engineering.
“I know it sounds like I’m talking a line of smack. I kinda wish I could say it’s all baloney. Yet the whole denaturation of human blood is what caused me to be a fishy Frankenstein, and caused the Andromeda to be a scary freaking live nuke lady.” Jessop’s mouth formed a tight line. Only now did Kingsley realize he could even close it all the way.
“I really have no idea what you just said, dude. Or how you could know all that stuff stowed away in here.” Kingsley swallowed. The kid was obvious intelligent beyond his years and savvy to what was going on in the engine of Leona’s world.
“Ah, I have surveillance. It’s how we survive. Come to my lab, kid. I’ll fill you in on all the juicy details. But first…” The boy looked Kingsley up and down, studying him with his tongue in his cheek.
“Bring me my beautiful Matilda, somebody.” Jessop snapped his fingers. The nervous children swarmed around each other, whispering among themselves about the newcomers and what that might imply.
A small girl that had developed bat like wings out of her own skin from flaps that spread like webbing under her arms and fingers brought forward a Japanese katana. Jesso
p tossed it to Kingsley.
“Discipline and self-protection. Compassion and understanding. This isn’t a game. You should know that by now, kid. This is serious. There’s no glory or beauty in the sickness she intoxicated you with. The sickness that caused her to mutilate our humanity! Know that, Louie, and you may be able to beat the Devil.”
*****
Chapter 16
“Are we back online? For real? Oh, thank God!”
Kendra’s hands flew to her headset. She was having heart palpitations again. The in-flight medic pushed to her side. Lights flashed frenetically. The camera crew was bandying about some nonsense about cutting footage.
“No, damn it! No! The people need to see the truth. That’s what we do. That’s the master key to our survival as a Planet!” Kendra stomped her foot, spun on her heels, and swiveled the main camera back around. She held onto it by either side, bowing to look up into it as Air Force One dropped in altitude ready to land on the beaches of the New Orleans area. Electric fire had damaged its engines.
“I’m Kendra Reagan, live from the airspace above the Lake Pontchartrain,” she said into the camera. “We’re here witnessing live the transformation of the vigilante, would-be dictator and femme fatale Leona Kelley into a hybrid human much like the Andromeda herself. From what we can see, Kelley just ingested the Andromeda’s hyper-radioactive blood.
“Normally, we’d be in the dark about the actual mechanics of what we’re witness. Today our crew’s fortunate to be on board with nuclear specialist Dr. Julius Lorraine who has some insight into how the human body could actually become a nuclear reactor in this extreme case. Doctor Lorraine’s research might give us some insight into how to avoid contracting this radical disease. Dr. Lorraine?” Kendra indicated that the camera should cut to the specialist. It was the right balance between exposing the truth and shielding the public from some of its impact. This cleverness was the reason why Kendra Reagan had become the anchorwoman for Hot News Channel 16.
Lorraine had been brought on board by President Matthews himself as soon as activity was sighted in the New York skyline. The sub footage cameras were closing in on the shoreline, identifying some of the other members of this massive catastrophe. He’d known the kids from the Shreveport National Guard. He’d worked with them in the Leona Kelley investigation previously. This was all highly personal for Dr. Julius Lorraine. He straightened his collar and cleared his throat. After many years of ridicule, his advanced EMP-optogenetic nuclear manifestation research was beginning to receive credit from the academic public. It was beyond time for that. This tragedy may have been diverted otherwise.
“Ah, well, Kendra, you know that the human body is a mystery that continues to and probably always will baffle us to a degree. While normally high levels of ionizing radiation disband and weaken DNA, even leading to cell immortalization (which is a bad thing as it’s the first step to cancer) new studies are now revealing that an artificial holographic intelligence released chemically into DNA, what we call bio-chemic android optogenetics, is probably the secret to the human body absorbing, adapting to and overcoming ionizing radiation.” Julius nodded and let a heavy breath. He wasn’t liking this being on camera thing too well, despite how badly he’d longed for his work to receive public credit.
Kendra smoothed her jacket out and extended a backup mic close to Lorraine’s mouth.
“There were some big words in there, Doctor. Could you break it down for those viewing at home?” She forced a laugh and drew a wild strand of hair back over an ear.
“Well, basically it works like this. Scientists have been exploring gene optimization for years. Somewhere along the way, we discovered the practice of optogenetics, basically controlling brain functions with lights. It’s a way of influencing the DNA to build itself for better performance.
“The research team of Kelley Pharmaceutical discovered many years ago a second step to optogenetics,” Dr. Lorraine continued. “Drugs created from the diluted genome of certain exotic animals and then processed into a balance with the human genome recipe. Drugs that could be infused with enough electromagnetic pulses and thorium-based nuclear reactive diluted plasma products that it would render the DNA a ‘safe’ nuclear reactor. This useful radiology would then be translated back into the blood compounds and DNA strand and influence the body to be able to “outthink” diseases and “recycle” ionized nuclear waste product.” Lorraine paused, clenching his teeth.
“So, basically, anyone who is injected with this Andromeda One Extract or whatever Leona Kelley is calling it, will become a human smart bomb?” Kendra’s jaw dropped, remembering on the verge of tears the day Jane Lewis died.
“Well, it is a little bit more complicated than that. It’s more like the person that is injected with the disease will start to become a fuel source for endlessly updated radiology and brain stimulus. It would be like isolating our solar system’s sun and stars into one human body, that body learning to change its chemical infrastructure from the inside out into the right plasma base to actually house said solar system and then letting it loose in the mix with the rest of human flesh and bone, but—”
Lorraine never finished his sentence. Sergeant Manson came hurtling through the air, fire catching up with him in greater volume by the second. His shoulders hit the cockpit window and cracked them, breaking them open. The plane began to rattle from the disrupted interior by reason of the G-Forces.
Captain Matheson was suspended in the air, using his seismology to keep himself level as Andromeda was hauling him and the Geryon through midair. The Geryon thrashed trying to tear free of Andromeda’s attack. The Andromeda wailed as the Geryon’s claws tore into her skin, tossed her prey over the plane’s roof and collided on the Boeing’s nose.
Their upheaval was interrupted by Leona’s advent in the sky. They pounced her with their collective strength as she came crawling from the Boeing’s underbelly, attempting to tear rifts in the fabric that held its cockpit in place. She shrieked and leaned back. Her palm’s magnetism created vacuums that pulled the water into massive spouts.
President Matthews was shouting orders. His cell phone’s ringing cut through the static and his eyes bulged in surprise. He put it on speaker so his team and the news crew could hear the caller.
“Mr. President, sir. Listen to me. This will save your life.”
The whole world went deathly cold at the sound of Jane Lewis’ voice.
*****
Chapter 17
“Jane. You realize we’re on live television, don’t you? Please, give me some good news.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I wish I had a better diversion for this, but I don’t. The two men and the creature. They’re not the bad guys here, only soldiers caught up in the midst of a war they can barely even comprehend. They have better insight on the long history of She-Hitler than I do and direct physiological communication with me.”
“Alright, so I see that they’re friendlies. I’ll order my boys to stand down.” President Matthew’s held his breath. The wind was beginning to tear his coat from his body. The pressure filling the cockpit from the sky bound seismology on its outside walls was enough to shatter the windows. Some of the crew were shrieking as they were torn into the sky and dropped like tears into Lake Pontchartrain below.
“Sir, Matheson and Manson are going to take you into protective custody.” Jane’s voice was a dull echo above the noise. Captain Matheson dropped through a luggage rack in coach. Papers, cloth, and briefcases scattered. He let out a heavy huff and started to force his way forward propelling himself from the chairs. The President’s guards began to open up fire on him.
The Geryon dropped through another luggage rack and shrieked, deflecting the bullets with his bloodless wrists.
Last of all came Sergeant Manson, burning a hole straight through the ceiling. His eyes burst with unholy flames that cried sparks down his cheeks.
“My God, Jane?!” The President shrank backward.
“Sir, I know what you
’re thinking, but you have to trust us. Leona Kelley is transforming now. She’s going from psycho Hitler chick to raving nihilist superhuman hybrid with nothing better to do than to make you like one of us.” The Captain held out a hand.
“Trust us, Mr. President. We know it isn’t easy, but we can show you a solution to all of this.” Manson took a protective stance as the front windows broke open. Leona tore through the cockpit shield, making the high shrieking sounds of a young cougar. Her fingernails had become ultra-hard. Her hair had grown a rapid inch and was burning on the ends. Her eyes blazed like the core of lighting, spreading through her skull around the rims to her teeth and tongue which had been converted to a solid spiking flame like a welder’s torch.
“Don’t scramble from it, you idiots! Footage! Give them an eyeful of it. Make the people face the future!” Kendra swung the surviving cameras toward Leona’s face.
Andromeda came rolling through the wormhole gaping cockpit, colliding with Leona’s shoulders, sinking her blazing teeth into her throat. The two superhuman women thrashed in the tandem limbo of the collapsing Air Force One.
“Come with us!” The Geryon’s voice began to gather momentum until it went from an animal growl to articulate human speech. Matthews paused, which gave Derek time to dive in and grapple him by the waist.
Leaf turned back to the rest of the passengers, blazing teeth clenched. He bowed down and began to melt a massive hole in the floorboard.
The Good Death Box Set: A Hard SciFi Science Fiction Series Page 28
