by John Carrick
Ashley moved quickly, but without hurrying. By the time her brain realized it had been too easy, it was too late.
Ashley was halfway down the first flight of stairs when she saw Deputy Director Von Kalt. He was just standing there, waiting for her.
He was holding his gun at his side. He was also holding the second prototype. She could see it.
She could feel it, The Metachron.
Ashley was still holding the Micronix herself. She hadn’t retracted the blade. She had washed it, in the bathroom, but the matte black edge was still exposed to the cool night air.
Ash felt an alien confidence well up from deep within her.
She stood up straight and walked toward the man who’d been pursuing her for weeks.
Coming down the stairs, they both knew her power. Ashley reached Von Kalt. Saying nothing, she held out her empty hand.
Von Kalt could have raised the gun.
Instead, he handed her the Metachron and stepped aside.
Ashley didn’t look at him; she just took the device and walked past.
As she reached the landing, she heard him exhale.
The sudden shot startled her.
His body fell onto the hard metal steps with a resounding thud.
Three floors later, Ashley retraced the blade and pocketed the Micronix. She was evacuated right out the front door with dozens of other people. A crowd was beginning to form due to the ongoing chaos, and naturally, no one was being allowed to enter.
Not far from the shuttle gates, Ashley spotted a familiar little head, struggling to see above the adults and catch a glimpse of what was going on. Geoffrey and a young social worker watched the building, along with dozens of onlookers.
Ashley made her way over to them, gesturing for him to stay quiet. From just a few feet away, Ash nodded and Geoff slipped away from the social worker. She looked like a nice enough girl, but she could cause real trouble for them if she were to insist on delivering Geoffrey to proper authorities.
Geoffrey inched further and further away from the distracted girl. Before long he just turned and walked away from her.
Moments later the reunited brother and sister were sprinting away from the police station, dodging pedestrians, giggling and laughing, the chaos behind them forgotten.
Chapter 73 – Catharsis
Captain Snow watched Ashley and Geoff escape the police station, her long rifle held at her side. Reid hovered beside her.
Croswell, Ross and King had arrived late, and tried entering the department invisibly but had become enmeshed in the chaos on the lower floors, and completely missed the action.
Snow and Reid lost no time teasing them and complaining that they had allowed both Bergstrom and Dunkirk to escape.
“It was insane in there,” King argued.
“It looked crowded,” Snow answered, smiling.
From this position, King, Croswell and Ross discovered they could see right into the homicide wing of the department.
“But you saw what she did?” King asked. “That was great! Brilliant!”
Ana held up her rifle, with the huge scope. “I see everything.”
“She was great!” King laughed. “I don’t know why you were ever worried.”
“I’m not worried,” Ana rolled her eyes. “I mean, look at this, there’s five of us and we couldn’t protect them at all.”
“I don’t know if I agree with that?” Croswell said.
“I just wanted her, both of them, to have a normal childhood. Why can’t she just have a normal childhood? Why is that too much to ask?”
Secretary Croswell put an arm around Ana’s shoulder.
“What’s normal?” he asked. “When I was her age, Fox cut my arm off. That was definitely not normal.
“And if I recall correctly you were an Olympic double-threat.”
“That was at sixteen.” Snow begrudgingly returned the smile.
“Oh that’s right. At twelve you only won for track. It was four years later you won for track and marksmanship. I gotcha. Perfectly normal.” Croswell laughed.
The soldiers cruised along overhead, laughing and joking as Ashley and Geoff made their way down the promenade, putting distance between themselves and the Angel City Police Department.
“It’s not like you can change who they are,” Ross said. “And I don’t know why you’d want to. They’re perfect. You did a great job.”
Snow laughed, “She did a great job. I was out here, with you clowns.”
Ashley’s Journal, Monday, August 3, 2308
We got to the second backup cruiser after midnight. This one is bigger. There’s plenty of room to stretch out and the three monitors to surf all the vid streams we want.
We’ve been trying not to watch the news, but Dunkirk is everywhere. He escaped from the cops in an ambulance with another hostage. They lost him in a parking garage when he carjacked a rabbi.
Dr. Martin Evander Dunkirk III; once a frontline battle surgeon turned landowner and patron of the arts, new to the ranks of infamous sociopaths.
At least they didn’t mention me, or Stanwood, or Von Kalt That’s one thing to be happy about.
Ashley’s Journal, Wednesday Afternoon, August 5, 2308
With over a hundred victims discovered in the first days of the investigation, Dunkirk was the news of the summer. They’re calling him the Calistan Canyon Killer. Over the last few days, the whole world has watched the footage of bodies being airlifted out of the ravine. It was ghastly. The commentary repeatedly pointed out that most of the victims were children. Time-lapsed footage of the forest showed body bag after body bag just streaming out of the canyon.
The police got warrants for all the buildings owned by Mr. Dunkirk, and the horror show expanded to a dozen new locations. For years, he'd been abducting and murdering all varieties of people, some were his tenants, others complete strangers.
They’re saying he’s a killer of opportunity. He wasn’t particular about age or appearance, his victims ranged from children to the elderly. Where most other killers stick to a specific type, Dunkirk enjoyed variety.
At its peak, the investigation included two hundred, twenty-seven corpses, and sixty-four missing persons. They think his first victim may have been his mother, at thirteen. Originally her death had been ruled an accident, but now they’re saying it was probably Martin.
He is a genuine psycho.
If he comes after me again, I’m going to kill him.
I talked to Dr. Te for a bit this afternoon.
After Geoff and I picked up the second spare car Ross left us, I put the autopilot on a freeway loop, and we took a nap. I woke up, and he was sitting inside the transport with us.
I didn’t want to wake up Geoff, so we talked silently, just in our minds. I said it was nice to see him.
He said he was glad to find us healthy and whole, and that it seemed like we were finally okay, now that the heat was off of us.
I pointed out that our parents were still gone.
Geoffrey was crying in his sleep earlier, but he didn’t do it while Te was here, and I didn’t tell him about it.
He said we don’t need to worry now.
I told him we’d heard that before. Before Ross got killed.
He said that the police were working hard to catch Mr. Dunkirk.
I said, better him than us.
He asked what we were up to, and I told him that Geoff and I were on our way to Magic Mountains theme park, and that we planned to hit a new fair or amusement park everyday, whether they catch us or not. So it was just as well they weren’t looking anymore, or they were going to have a fight on their hands. I said even if we did go to Canada or Mexico, at least we would never go anywhere twice.
Dr. Te listened and then laughed really hard. He said he was jealous and that his body couldn’t withstand the challenge of one new thrill a week, let alone days filled with them, one after another.
He made me laugh too. I didn’t realize how long it had been since
I laughed.
Ashley’s Journal, Wednesday, September 2, 2308
After a month on the road, Geoff and I agreed that, with summer ending, we have to do something different. All the other kids are going back to school. We can’t pretend we’re on vacation much longer. I’ve been thinking about this, and I’ve got a good idea about what to do.
I plotted a course for Angel City, and Geoff immediately asked if I thought going back home was a bright idea. He said I was breaking our number one rule. I told him we were going somewhere neither of us had ever been before.
At a truck stop, I bought an electric razor and made him help me shave my head. Later that day, we arrived at the Flying Dragons Martial Arts Academy and presented ourselves for check in at the front desk.
A bit of digital preparation on Geoff's part made the paperwork a breeze. He used the Micronix to fill out the applications and forward our transcripts from Rivendell before we got here. Once the tuition charges cleared, there was nothing to worry about.
I’ve been using my parent’s accounts ever since Ross disappeared. We were safe for a whole week before they caught us at the campground. I’ve been thinking about all that.
When I bought the hover board, it wasn’t the transaction that brought the agents. If it had been the codec, it would have been the mall cops that caught me.
So… The charges cleared. After that, who cares? I’ll fight them when they get here.
Also, because of our short notice registration and late arrival, Ashton and Geoffrey would be rooming together, despite their age difference, which was what we wanted anyhow.
It will be a lot easier to maintain my disguise as a boy this way. I’m going to learn everything they teach here, the same way I did with ballet.
Someday, I’m going to see Martin Dunkirk again, and when I do, I’m going to finish the job. He’s been running circles around the cops. Sooner or later, he’s going to come after me. It’s just a matter of time.
The next time, I will be ready, and he will be dead.
Epilogue – Hic Sunt Dracones
A week after the horrors of Calistan Way, a pair of uniformed patrolmen wandered through the ocean-side park where Bobby slept. Their morning duties largely consisted of chasing away the neighborhood indigents, but a homeless child called for more immediate intervention.
A social services team was called out, and Bobby was transported back to a local holding station. It didn't take long to identify the silent child and deliver him to his new home.
District Thirteen, the Angel City Orphanage and Juvenile Detention Facility, housed almost ten percent of the metropolitan orphan population. The district maintained prenatal care for infants, school for orphaned students and a massive wing for the criminally inclined delinquents of Angel City.
Bobby hadn't uttered a word since his arrival. Silent amidst a teeming sea of children, he wandered the district, seeking hidden, quiet, out-of-the-way places where he might gaze upon his gleaming treasure of brass, copper, and lead.
Within a few days, Bobby discovered an abandoned wing of the orphanage. Wandering, he noted the strong scent of death and rot. He followed his nose and soon encountered a cruelly deformed guard. The man was a hulking brute and his eyes glittered with malicious intent.
Bobby approached with an honest, open expression and showed the man his bullets. The monster smiled and led Bobby through several locked doors into a concealed section of the district.
The reek of death was overpowering. They passed through a bloodstained dorm, beds gone black with gore. That was when Bobby first began to hear the cries.
They entered another dorm, filled with children, all chained to their beds. Several had been beaten or were the victims of hideous disfigurements.
Gruesome scars adorned their young bodies, holes in the flesh, when internal organs had been removed, stitched closed with stiff black thread. Those not chained to the beds were largely amputees. Misery, pain and torment, enveloped them.
Bobby realized that he once again stood with Death. He found that he didn't mind the stench of their suffering. In fact, he rather relished it. The pain and suffering of others made him acutely aware of his own excellent health, his own good fortune. He felt Death was a wise and generous friend, the only friend he needed. He felt honored to be so warmly wrapped in its embrace.
It was after Thanksgiving and before Christmas that Morgenstern got a line on their former associate, Mr. Dunkirk. He was in Phoenix. The battle-scarred giant packed provisions for the trip and double-checked his route into the desert.
The grizzled veteran had once worked as a surgical assistant to then Dr. Dunkirk. He was now employed aboard the Angel City Orphanage - Juvenile Detention Facility, as its coroner. It wasn't everything he'd ever hoped for in life, but it did provide an unending feast of delicious victims.
Franklin Gustav Morgenstern had accepted his appetites early in life.
Several of his co-conspirators aboard the floating orphanage were intrigued by the proposal of meeting the infamous Dunkirk. They wished him safe travels and hoped he returned soon.
Before Morgenstern set off, he stopped by Bobby's room to let him know that he might have a surprise for him in a couple of days. The light reflecting off Bobby's necklace of brass shells made the serial killer smile.
Bobby asked Morgenstern to reaffirm his pledge, once they found his father, they'd go after the person responsible, the one who'd betrayed him and informed the police.
Morgenstern nodded. He was fascinated by what he'd heard of Miss Ashley Fox. She sounded like marvelous sport, and he was looking forward to the hunt. He didn’t inform Dr. Bergstrom however.
Dr. Bergstrom didn’t know what to make of Bobby. After a brief conversation; establishing that the boy had indeed grown up just a few doors from the Fox family, Cedric kept him at a distance. Bobby was pleasant enough, and everyone else he met seemed enamored of him, another effect Bergstrom couldn’t quite wrap his head around.
He was clearly Dunkirk’s son, but he had some internal power of his own. He smelled and sounded like the Micronix, but something was wildly off. The patterns and commands were skewed.
Cedric was content to refrain from action until he knew what he was dealing with. The Micronix had adapted after his last encounter with it, and Ashley had taken the counterfeit device from that fool Von Kalt. He feared the other shoe had yet to drop. He intended to be anywhere but beneath it, when it finally did come down.
Six months after he died, Doctor Andrew Fox was awakened by a jolt of electricity. He sat up, his head and shoulders breaking the surface of the tank. The sensation of air on his skin and a second shot of electricity contracted the muscled of his midsection, causing him to exhale the breathable fluid from his lungs and take his first breath of recycled laboratory oxygen.
A third shock and he threw himself from the tank, a puddle of blue syrup spreading beneath him. He vomited and coughed up the blue-tinged fluids. Doctor Fox caught his breath and stood. He wiped the thick syrup from his limbs and reached out to a nearby stack of towels. In a few minutes he was mostly dry, if stained a faint blueberry. He ignored the puddle he’d left, the bots would get it soon enough.
Wrapped in towels, he walked from the tank, passing another with a similar, recently cleansed but not-fully-faded stain on the floor.
Fox dressed in the locker room. The clothes he’d requested were there; simple linen pants, a long sleeved shirt and a pair of casual loafers. He’d grown quite fond of his prison outfit. It was rather comfortable.
He had also noticed the chill in the air and as this was his locker, he ignored the desert apparel and opted for something warmer. Fox exited the locker room in jeans, boots and a heavy shirt. He’d recognized the surroundings already, the chill in the air confirmed his suspicions every bit as much as the snow-covered landscape outside the frosted windows.
Apparently Stanwood never made it down to Chile to visit Wyndham. In a moment of weakness, Fox had told Stanwood everything. He�
��d given up the testing site on the Isle of Man, the fabrication site near his wife’s childhood home in Czechoslovakia and the McMurdo annex, where he found himself at the moment. He hadn’t lied. He’d just set out some diversions for his old friend.
Fox knew Joe would have had the footage analyzed; he had to give him some version of the truth, just to move things along, or he’d probably still be out there in the desert.
He heard voices from somewhere nearby.
Fox continued down the hallway and entered the common area. The room went silent as he entered. He saw the faces of his friends, Ross, Croswell, King, Reid, Wolf and Becket. Dr. Te was there, with both Anastasias, the original looked pissed, but he’d come to expect that. Even Sabor and some of Te’s bots were present.
Fox took a seat on one of the empty couches and smiled.
“So, how are the kids?” he asked.
###
About the Author
John Carrick grew up in northern Illinois and spent four years with the Marine Corps. He graduated from The Art Institute of Los Angeles with a degree in Computer Science: Animation and continues his education at The Gnomon School of Visual Effects and The Taoist Institute.
The next volume in The Trials of Ash is finished, check out TrialsofAsh.com and AlphaChannelBooks.com for…
The Legend of Ashley Fox.
Bonus Chapters
Blue Goo
August 29th 2273 - 35 years ago
The first day of eighth grade and half the class stood huddled around Wendell Meyer, seated on an industrial table in the science laboratory. His pants were pushed up to his thigh, his ruined knee exposed for all.
