Realm of Shadows

by Eldon Farrell

  Turning on Cummings he yells, “Where is he!?”

  Pushing him back Caleb asks, “Where is who? What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “Nicholas Talbot,” Cole replies, “My friend. He followed his trail to this island and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. What did you do to him?”

  “I assure you I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cummings says with a dismissive look.

  “Why don’t I entirely believe that?” Caleb asks with a mistrustful air about him.

  “Let’s just all calm down,” Ling Tran calls for order, “We’re in the midst of a hurricane here and don’t need to be at each other’s throats as well.”

  “The lady makes sense,” Jing comments in support of her, drawing an uneasy glance his way.

  “Yeah…she does,” Caleb points a finger at Cummings saying, “But tell you what; we’re all going to be here for a bit so I think we should get to the bottom of whatever the hell happened here while we wait.

  “Call me crazy, but I think at least one person in this room knows exactly what happened.”

  “Theories Agent Fine,” Cummings smirks, “All you’ve ever had are theories. How’d they work out for you the last time?”

  “I know exactly what happened here!” Cole exclaims.

  “Cole!” Jeremy chimes in nervously from across the room.

  Turning his head for a moment, Cole says, “No, we’re not keeping this quiet any longer.”

  “Keeping what quiet?” Ling Tran asks.

  Staring at Cummings for a long moment Cole finally declares, “I saw the bullet holes and the blood you tried to wash away. I know what you did here. I can prove that Black Creek has here before the supposed disappearance of these people and they are in fact responsible for murdering them all!”

  From the corner of his eye Caleb notices Jing and Slade tensing. Turning to them he asks, “You’re the man in charge, any rebuttal?”

  Trying and failing to affect insouciance Jing offers, “Pure nonsense. My company arrived here in response to the disappearance.”

  “You executed these people!” Cole accuses, “I spoke to a witness who heard the shots and saw Black Creek soldiers loading bodies onto a barge. I’d bet anything that Nicholas found out why you did it too and you had him killed for it!”

  The storm raging outside is the only sound for a moment. In the lull, Hong hears Amir’s voice in his head warning him about his father.

  ‘Your father—the mercenary who has ordered the deaths of how many people in his twisted life?’

  His conscience plaguing him, Hong still tries to defend his father one last time. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Hong!” Jing snaps at him—his voice that of the father he knew for so many years.

  “No Dad,” Hong half-smiles, “Let me help you. They think you’re a cold-blooded murderer, but that isn’t what happened.”

  “Then what happened?” Caleb asks.

  “Yes, the people here were executed.”

  “Shut it you sniveling little shit!” Slade bellows as he lunges for Hong only to be stopped by Chase and Clay.

  Startled by the outburst, Hong falls silent as he looks to his father for guidance. Finding only rage there he turns away in confusion.

  He doesn’t understand what I’m doing. He thinks I’m going to fail him. But I won’t. He’s innocent of this—he only did what had to be done. They’ll understand once they know the truth.

  “They were infected,” Hong rationalizes, “They were contagious. We couldn’t cure them—we tried. In the end we couldn’t let it spread beyond this place. My father had no choice; it was for the good of all.”

  Slade stops struggling in the arms of Chase and Clay, pushing back from them with a look of pure disgust spreading across his malevolent face.

  All around Hong, all eyes are on him as the tempest outside thunders and silence reigns throughout the room.

  “What did they have?” Wendy asks from onstage, her arm around a despondent Lynne.

  “You wouldn’t know it,” Hong responds.

  “We’re the CDC,” Clay states, “Try us. Hell, for that matter why didn’t you call us in for help before…executing innocent people?”

  “You’ve said enough Hong!” Jing barks at him, “Not another word.”

  “No I think he has more to say,” Caleb smiles at Jing before adding, “Go on Hong.”

  “It’s OK Dad,” Hong says, “They need to know and then they’ll realize you did nothing wrong.”

  Jing is seething with rage as he helplessly watches his son speak.

  “It all started ten months ago when my team of astrobiologists made a discovery in the depths of Mono Lake out in California. Testing revealed that it was unlike anything else on this planet. It had six nucleotides instead of four, arsenic in place of phosphorus and possessed opposite chirality.”

  “And all that means what mate?” Chase asks for the group.

  “It was proof of a second genesis event. All life that we know of shares the same DNA structure indicating that at some point in the primordial past, it sprang from the same source. What we found—Spirochaeta X1—came from a different source!

  “It is so unlike anything else that exists that the only explanation for it is for life to have started a second time here. Think about that; if life began more than once here what are the odds it hasn’t started somewhere else? To say we were thrilled is an understatement.”

  “But…” Cole pushes him on.

  “But we needed to be sure before we published. My father offered to help us confirm our findings.”

  “I’ll bet he did,” Caleb expresses, “Probably went straight to Chimera for that help too, am I right General?”

  Ignoring the barb, Hong continues, “My friends felt the same distrust of my father that you display Agent Fine. But like you, they were wrong. He only wanted to help me; to have a relationship with me.

  “Everything that happened here was not his fault. My research partner…my girlfriend…stole our samples and gave them to The Sword who released X1 here. We didn’t call the CDC in because my father knew they would never do what was necessary.

  “X1 is foreign to us in every way imaginable. If it had made it off this island millions could’ve died!”

  “Who weaponized it?” Caleb asks while staring straight at Cummings.

  “No one,” Hong replies, “It didn’t need weaponizing. That’s what I’ve been trying to say; its foreign elements alone make it dangerous to us.”

  “That’s true enough,” Wendy points out, “But those elements don’t make it contagious. How did it become contagious?”

  Hong opens his mouth to reply but remains silent. The barrier he’s constructed in his head to wall off his doubts cracks just a little bit as he stands there grasping for an answer.

  “Who is your girlfriend?” Ling Tran inquires, “How did she become involved with The Sword?”

  Choking up Hong answers, “Felicia Werner…they killed her. They ran her jeep off the road after she gave them what they wanted.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Tyler manages to croak. Shaking from his ordeal in the principal’s office he nevertheless is able to say, “You claim you were her boyfriend? I knew Felicia as a child—we grew up together right here.

  “Anyone who really knew her would know she’d never do what you’re suggesting she did.”

  “But she did,” Hong insists, “I didn’t want to believe it at first either but…they killed the only other person who knew of the discovery as well—my friend Amir Singh. They made it look like a mugging just to cover their tracks.”

  “Why? Because Daddy said so?” Tyler struggles to his feet pointing a shaking finger at Jing, “If he has all the answers than why did he have me tortured looking for a notebook he thinks Felicia mailed to me? After hearing all of this I’d imagine an incriminating notebook.”

  “That’s not…” Hong starts again then stops as another crack in the wall spreads. ‘Then w
hy else would she take the X1 samples? Why would she give them her notebook? Where else was she going that day son?’

  Looking to his father the wall holding back all his nagging doubts finally gives way. The lies—long wished to be truths—overcome him.

  He finally sees him for what he is. He finally sees what Amir and Felicia saw. The curtain has been pulled back and Hong can see the spiteful hatred emanating from his own father.

  “It was all lies,” he whispers as the pain of realization overwhelms him. “You were never interested in me; they were right, it was X1 all along.”

  There is not a hint of regret in Jing’s expression as he stoically listens to his son’s heart breaking.

  “How could you do this to me?” Hong moans, “It was you…you killed Amir and Felicia. Jesus you really did it. I loved her! And then, to actually turn me against her after the fact by lying about her being a terrorist—why?”

  He begins to hyperventilate and collapses to his knees saying, “Oh God…all these people. Felicia didn’t infect them…you did.” His stomach lurches and he deposits his lunch all over the cafeteria floor.

  “Seems like a bit more than just theories,” Caleb nods to Cummings, “Wouldn’t you say?”

  “You’ve got nothing on me,” he brazenly retorts.

  “Nor I,” Jing adds, “Despite the ravings of my son; none of you can prove a damn thing.”

  Pointing at Cole, Caleb says, “But I’ll bet his friend can. Or maybe even that notebook you’re so hot for. We find either one, and I’m thinking you two can look forward to a needle in your arm.”

  “But they have Nick,” Cole states.

  “Nah,” Caleb slowly shakes his head as he stares down Cummings, “They don’t. If they had your friend, he wouldn’t still be here would you General? You’re still here because there’s no one else you can trust with cleaning up your mess this time. Your desperation is showing.”

  Cummings opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again without uttering a sound. In the look that passes between them Caleb knows that he’s right.

  “But if they don’t have Nick, who does? Where is he?”

  Caleb and Ling Tran look at each other—their thoughts veering to the same dread conclusion. Slowly, they look over at Lynne seated on the stage, her eyes pained and empty.

  Tyger, tiger burning bright in the forests of the night, what immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?

  Chapter 39

  It’s just a matter of time.

  The roar of the wind is deafening as it pounds the rain against the walls and roof of St. John’s Academy. With sustained speeds of 130 miles an hour it won’t be long now.

  While the structure is soundly and solidly built, nothing made by the hand of man can withstand such fury forever. The downfall of this particular edifice will be its concessions to style. The numerous overhangs around the exterior will soon betray the sanctuary within.

  If anyone were outside at this moment they might be able to see the gymnasium roof beginning to shake as it threatens to lift. Without mercy the winds blow, catching the roof overhang.

  In an instant a large section lifts and is blown away to land for a moment on another section of roof before it is picked up again and cast into the night sky.

  Rain pours in through the nine square foot hole, drowning the court below. The large scoreboard loses one of its moorings—wrenched free by the powerful gusts—and dangles precariously from only three points of contact.

  It’s only a matter of time.

  The booming sound on the roof nearby startles the inhabitants of the cafeteria, lifting their eyes heavenward.

  “Wha-what was that?” Jeremy stutters from his corner in the rear of the cafeteria.

  His query is ignored as none have an answer as to what it could’ve been. What they all know though is to have been heard over the hurricane it must’ve been large.

  In the front corner of the room, next to the stage, Jing, Slade, and Cummings have bent their heads together in private discourse.

  “So how bad is this notebook?” Cummings concludes, “It must be plenty damaging for you to risk bringing Edlund here just to find it. Why didn’t you just have me snatch it from him in Washington? Why the ruse?”

  “Have you snatch it from him?” Slade snorts, “That would’ve been the greater risk. You fuck it up and suddenly he realizes what he has. You’ve already allowed one leak on your watch; we hardly need another.”

  “Well you got one now,” Cummings fires back, “Your son just served you up on a silver platter in front of the FBI.”

  “What do you mean you?” Slade hisses, “We go down, you go down with us.”

  “Quiet,” Jing urgently whispers, “We are not dead yet. So long as they don’t find that flash drive they have nothing but conjecture. They have no one on their side that really knows anything.”

  Tilting his head toward where Hong is sitting staring vacantly into space Cummings asks, “What about him? He knows—he was there for the executions.”

  “I will handle my son,” Jing declares, “You find that infernal flash drive and destroy it before it sinks us all. Take your soldiers—Slade go with him—search this place top to bottom while you wait out the storm. Finding that data is our only priority.”

  “What about this notebook?” Cummings inquires, “Who’s looking for it?”

  Glancing at Slade, Jing answers, “No one. I’m assured that the boy never received it. In any case, it’s no longer a priority concern; it can’t hurt us.”

  “Then why did you want it so bad?”

  “Not your concern Wolf.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Cummings lifts a corner of his mouth in a wicked sneer, “That’s not going to fly with me Chance. You want me to recover the flash drive; you tell me what’s in that notebook cause if you expect me to believe it’s nothing important you must think me as foolish as your lapdog here.”

  “You really think we have time for this?” Jing asks impatiently.

  “That’s really up to you. All you have to do is tell me what was in it and I’ll go.”

  As Slade glowers at Cummings, Jing quietly seethes. With a dismissive wave he relents, “It stood in the way of us profiting from X1 in so much as it proved we did not create it. With the notebook in my possession—”

  “You could patent the organism and make another fortune,” Cummings finishes for him. “You risked exposing what happened here for money?”

  “You risked exposing it for a lot less,” Jing replies, “Savage was one of yours. You vouched for him. Now find and destroy his flash drive before I see to it that you join him in the grave.”

  With Slade in tow, Cummings gathers up the two remaining soldiers of his entourage and the four of them quietly slip unnoticed from the room.

  “I need to get this grime off me,” Lynne announces while staring at her filthy hands.

  Beside her Caleb offers, “I’ll take you to the washroom.”

  “No,” she shakes her head.

  “I’ll help you then,” Wendy says with a pat on the shoulder and a wide smile.

  Still shaking her head—almost vehemently—Lynne stands up saying, “I’ll go alone.”

  “Not a chance,” Caleb gently grips her by the elbow, “It’s not safe for you to be wandering around by yourself. Besides, I just got you back and I’m not letting you go.”

  His caring smile nearly brings tears to her eyes.

  “Hey,” he wraps his arms tightly around her and pulls her into an embrace. This time she hangs on to him tightly—as if it were her last embrace.

  Finally releasing her hold on him she says, “Have Ling Tran escort me then.”

  Looking out from the stage to the center of the room Caleb nods at his partner who catches his gesture and excuses herself from conversing with Clay. Approaching the stage she asks, “What’s up?�
��

  “Can you,” Caleb indicates toward Lynne, “Can you take her to get washed up?”

  A quizzical look flows over Ling’s face as she clearly wonders why she was chosen over Wendy or Caleb. Slowly she cracks a smile and nods, “Sure thing.”

  Cupping Lynne’s face in his hands Caleb whispers, “I’ll be right here when you get back.” With a kiss to her forehead he allows her to be led away from him.

  They quickly cross the cafeteria and exit through the front doors next to the stage. Out in the hallway Ling points straight ahead but after checking the corridor, Lynne heads to her left.

  Once past the cafeteria, the hallway becomes surrounded by safety glass on all sides—a crossways between outside and the inner courtyard. Stopping here for a moment Lynne gazes out at the black heart of Fiona.

  “We probably shouldn’t stop here,” Ling Tran suggests.

  Wiping at tears running down her cheeks Lynne breathes, “I’m sorry Ling.” Turning around to face her she sees the confusion on her face and repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

  A flash of lightning overhead bathes them in a bluish haze before the track lighting blinks out. Seconds later, the generator kicks the lights back on and Ling sees the Toymaker standing in the hallway over Lynne’s shoulder.

  The shock freezes her momentarily before her instincts take over. Reaching for her weapon she pushes Lynne aside with her left hand as she brings the Glock 9mm in her right hand up to aim directly at Heath’s chest.

  “Don’t move!” she hollers; her voice still sounding tiny against the backdrop of the tumult beyond the glass.

  Another bolt of lightning scores the sky and reveals the ghastly smile parting Heath’s fleshy lips. “An excellent choice,” he hisses as he licks his upper lip adding, “Though not entirely unexpected.”

  Taking one step toward him Ling orders “Put your hands up!”

  “I don’t think so,” Heath replies, his demented gaze ever so subtly shifting to Lynne behind her.

  Ling doesn’t catch it and never sees it coming. The knife slips between her ribs so easily that it’s a moment before the pain bites into her causing her fingers to loosen and her gun to drop to the floor.