The Evolution Trigger (Evolution Trigger Trilogy Book 1)

by C. S. Won

  Jae clicked on his radio. “Chief, I found the boy. He’s alive. I’ll need two fighters stationed outside the window in the northeast quadrant of the home for extraction. Have EMTs ready on standby. I repeat, have EMTs ready on standby.”

  “Copy that. They’re on their way,” the chief said.

  “Adam, Stephanie, I found the boy. Vacate the premises immediately.”

  “Fuck,” Adam said.

  “Copy that,” Stephanie said.

  Jae reached inside the closet. “Hey champ, how’s it going?”

  The boy gave the outstretched hand a fearful look, as if it was a serpent ready to strike.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Grab my hand; we’re going to get you out of here.”

  The boy shook his head. “I can’t. The fire is going to eat me.”

  “I won’t let it eat you. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  “How?”

  “You can trust me, son. Come on. We have to go.”

  The boy hesitated, whimpering into his blanket. “You promise you won’t let it eat me?”

  “I promise.”

  The boy uncoiled, but he was slow and unsure. Jae held his breath, wondering if the child was going to relent and choose to stay in the perceived safety of his closet. The boy was a living embodiment of doubt, fear, and uncertainty—imminently scared of the fire and perhaps of Jae himself, who was armored from head to toe in a thick coat and a breathing apparatus that would look monstrous to any child. But he waited patiently, even with the fire raging behind him, whispering soft words of encouragement and doing his best to allay the boy’s fears. The boy needed a pillar of strength, something that he could trust and latch onto, and Jae, who was staying firm in the midst of so much danger, hoped to prove that he could be that pillar of strength.

  After a long moment, the boy finally set his blanket aside and scuttled towards Jae. Hands and legs embraced him and tightened around his turnout coat.

  He turned and whirled his finger in the air. “Gabe! Window!”

  “Right ahead of you!” The two went over to the window, the small boy clinging to Jae like wallpaper. Gabe parked himself underneath the window and tucked his body into a quadruped position, his back humped upward to allow the boy a foothold to the world outside. Jae saddled up next to him and looked out the window. Two firefighters were already there, ready for the extraction.

  “You’re up,” Jae said. The boy nodded and peeled himself away, scampering onto Gabe’s back. Strong, gloved hands reached in, delicate but quick, and pulled the boy through the window. He vanished in a moment, like a magician’s trick. Gabe stood up and checked to see that the boy had escaped. Satisfied, he straddled the window, gave Jae a nod, and dropped outside.

  Jae placed a gloved hand on the blackened windowsill, ready to step through, but he stopped, compelled to look at the fire smoldering behind him. He turned, gazing at the fire. In those cackling flames, he saw history—history that he wished he could forget.

  He was nine years old again, back in his own room in a home long gone. The fire had arrived without warning that night, unannounced like a dagger in the dark. By the time he had woken up, before he could realize what was happening, he was already trapped. Fire tinted his windows ruby red, and debris that was too high and perilous for him to climb blocked the door. He could still feel the tears snaking their way down his cheeks and the heat that had kissed his face. By all accounts, he should have died that night. But his mother saved him, running through his door and jumping over the debris with the grace of an eagle and the strength of a lion. The sight of her cleansed his fears, and he remembered how safe he felt when she fell in next to him and embraced him, holding onto him tightly. Nothing could hurt them and nothing could separate them.

  A hand took Jae by the shoulder and shook him, pulling him away from his memories. The past sifted away to reveal the turbulence of the present. Gabe was reaching through the window. “What are you doing? Get your ass out of there!”

  Jae shook his head, the image of his mother fading away. “Sorry, I was . . . on my way.” He straddled the window and fell through.

  Their work was done. All that remained in the aftermath was a great plume of smoke billowing up into the sky. Red and blue sirens swept through the warm Atlanta night, circling endlessly like a sweeping carousel. Jae took his helmet and breathing mask off and took a deep whiff of the air. It smelled like smoke, gasoline, and another lease on life—it was that smell he most welcomed and cherished. He flipped his helmet to the side and wiped his forehead, letting the summer warmth caress his face. The chief patted him on the back, offering congratulations.

  Jae walked over to his station truck to pack up his gear. A few yards away, he saw the boy he’d pulled from the building, an EMT hovering over him. An oxygen mask was clamped over his jaw, and he was nodding at something the EMT was saying to him. Jae transferred his axe and helmet to the truck and approached the boy, placing a hand on the shoulder of the EMT.

  “You feeling alright, son?” Jae asked.

  The boy nodded and smiled.

  “Smoke inhalation did a number on him, but a brief stay at the hospital should get him back on his feet in no time,” the EMT said.

  “That’s good to hear.” Jae turned back to the child. “What’s your name?”

  “Josh,” the boy said, his breath fogging the mask.

  “Josh, you were very brave. You did well. I’m proud of you.” A smile broke through the fog. “Once I have the time, I’ll come visit you at the hospital, okay?” The boy nodded, his eyes lighting up.

  Gabe walked up to Jae and threw an arm around his shoulders. “I think this calls for a celebration. How about we get piss drunk tonight? Stephanie’s down.” It appeared that Gabe had found the time to get himself cleaned up during the moratorium. He stood tall, sturdy, and strong—no longer hampered by his heavy equipment. His ink-black hair was brushed upwards in a casual wave, and the smoke that had caked his face earlier was replaced with a clean-shaven look meant to impress the ladies. It looked like he was already ready to get the party started.

  “Tempting, but I’ll have to pass. Madeline has the night off from the hospital, so we’ve made plans for dinner,” Jae said.

  “Madeline, eh? Speaking of which . . .” Gabe led him back to their truck, away from prying eyes and inquisitive ears. “Spill it, Yeon: are you proposing to her or not?”

  Jae offered a smirk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black box. He opened it, and nestled inside a slender nook was a gold band with a mounted diamond, sparkling in the darkness of the night. Gabe leaned in for a closer look, his eyes going wide.

  “Holy shit.” Gabe pulled him in for a hug. “Congratulations, man!”

  “It was difficult picking out the right ring, considering my small budget, but I think I made the right choice. What do you think?” Jae asked.

  “I think you made the right choice as well. Madeline is going to be pleased—more than pleased, in fact. When are you going to propose?”

  “Tomorrow, maybe, when we go to Six Flags. If that doesn’t work out, then I was thinking about making plans for a picnic at the park later in the week and asking her there. Right now, I’m leaning toward the picnic because it seems more romantic, but we’ll see.”

  “It won’t matter when she sees that rock, bro, so either way works. Have you prepared what you’re going to say?”

  “I have a nice little speech ready. I’ve been practicing it nonstop for the past week or so.”

  “Well shit, if I had a drink in my hand I’d raise you a toast. You sure you don’t want to celebrate this momentous occasion? It’ll be my treat, of course.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  “We’re definitely not going to skimp out on the bachelor party. I’m now making it my sworn duty to guarantee you enjoy one last night of debauchery in your waning days as a free man. You’ve got to enjoy bachelorhood while you still have it, right?” Gabe looked at the ring again and
shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “But still, it’s high time you made this official. You guys have known each other since you were like seven or eight, right?”

  “Just about.”

  “I’ve got to let everyone know about this. You don’t mind if I tell everyone, do you?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Well, maybe not everyone. I’ll exclude Adam, since we all know how he feels about your girl. He might break down into a crying mess if he heard the news.”

  Gabe bounded off, disappearing into a crowd of firefighters. Smiling, Jae turned and packed up the rest of his equipment.

  Chapter 2

  The meatballs were looking good.

  Jae rolled the meat inside the smoking cast-iron pan, using a well-worn pair of tongs to push and turn the meat around. A thin coating of butter bubbled underneath the protein; a pool of juices sang a seductive, crackling melody. He leaned over the pan and fanned the smoke with a flutter of his hand, drinking in the smell. The sharp aroma of herbs and spices tickled his nose.

  A voice called from the living room. “Jae, have you put the sauce on yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  Jae reached into the cupboards and pulled out a metallic-silver pot. A flame sparked to life as he turned the stove on medium, and placed the pot on top of the fire. He walked over to the kitchen counter and peered inside a cluster of brown paper bags, rummaging through an assortment of vegetables and boxed goods.

  “Honey, where’s the sauce? I can’t find it,” Jae called. No answer. “Honey?” He walked into the living room, looking around. “Madeline?” He heard the faint rush of water running somewhere in the back of the house. Must be in the bathroom.

  He went back inside the kitchen, took a quick glance behind his shoulder, and pulled the engagement ring out of his pocket. The ring sat in the creases of his palm, its diamond glimmering brilliantly in the smoke of cooking meat and hot butter. It was so small and felt like nothing. For such a diminutive thing to hold so much importance—the symbolism was not lost on him.

  “The meat’s burning.”

  Jae swung around with a jump, almost dropping the ring. Madeline Ewing stood at the doorway, hands on her waist, sporting a smile.

  “Sorry, I was a little preoccupied.” He balled his hand into his fist, concealing the ring, and went in for a kiss. Her lips met his, and she looked into his eyes. “Lost in my thoughts of you,” he said.

  “Can’t leave meat burning like this, silly. And you call yourself a fireman?” Madeline picked up the tongs, peeling the meatballs out of the pan and placing them onto a paper towel. Her long, red hair swished behind her like a yarn of fire, dancing and swaying with her body. A smattering of freckles was splashed across the bridge of her nose, and an ever-present cherry tint that matched the color of her hair colored her cheeks. Her eyes were big and round, her irises shaded a golden-brown like wheat.

  “What can I say? Put me in a turnout coat and I can do anything, but once I’m out of it I lose all my powers.” Jae came up behind Madeline and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the warmth on the nape of her neck. She giggled in his arms.

  “That’s why I’m always asking you to wear that coat to bed,” Madeline said. “I’ll wear my nurse’s uniform if you do.”

  “You naughty girl.”

  Jae pulled away from Madeline and went to the kitchen sink, sneaking the ring back into his pocket while filling a glass with water. Madeline opened the cupboard above her and took out a can of marinara sauce.

  “So that’s where it was,” Jae said.

  She chuckled and poured the sauce into the steaming pot. The scent of spiced tomatoes gusted throughout the room. Jae took a long whiff and felt his stomach yearning. Madeline took out a long wooden spoon from a drawer and began to stir.

  “I heard from my sister today,” she said.

  “And here I was about to call the missing persons hotline for you,” Jae said.

  “Don’t tease. I was really worried. A week is unprecedented for her.”

  “There’s a first for everything.”

  “Not this, but it was good to hear from her. We had so much to talk about. I think we were on the phone for almost two hours.”

  “Two hours? What could have possibly happened this week to warrant spending two hours on the phone with your sister?”

  “What can I say? We love to talk.”

  “Talking about how much you love me?”

  “Well, she is always asking when we’re getting married.”

  Jae snorted, failing to hide his grin. Madeline brought the sauce down to a quiet simmer.

  “Do you miss him?” She asked, stirring.

  “Who?”

  “Han.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. I guess talking about siblings just made me reminisce about your brother. How long has it been?”

  Too long. “Twenty years, just about.”

  “Then you definitely miss him, don’t you? I know I would if I were in your shoes.”

  Jae sighed. “Not really.”

  She turned to look at him. “How come?”

  “Twenty years without contact is a long time. We drifted apart. Well, actually, to be more accurate, he’s the one who did the drifting. He abandoned us, pretty much.”

  “He didn’t really abandon you. He took that job, right? With the government?”

  “Yeah, some top-secret gig that he couldn’t talk about, and ever since then I haven’t seen or heard from him. Not a single letter, e-mail, or phone call. Nothing. Not even a text. Sounds like textbook abandonment if you ask me.”

  “Do you resent him for that?”

  Jae took a sip of his water. “For a time I did, especially when my dad was dying. His last wish was to see my brother, to look on Han’s face one last time before he passed. He just wanted to know that his son was still out there and doing okay. So I sought Han out, using every resource I had to try and locate him. I contacted extended family, ex-girlfriends, and long forgotten acquaintances. I even got in touch with the local authorities here, but despite all that I couldn’t find him. The day my father died it killed me. I remember the look on his face as he drew his last breath, realizing that he would never see his eldest son again. It broke my heart. It took me a long time to forgive Han for that, but even then, the anger still lingers.” Jae sighed. “I guess I lied. Talking about this is making me feel a little resentful.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I like to think that he at least knows dad is dead, and that he visits his grave from time to time when I’m not around.” He took another sip. “But it’s whatever. I’m over it. I’ve moved on. Water under the bridge, as they say.”

  “Yeah.” Madeline gave a small nod and turned back to the simmering pot of tomato sauce, fingers finding the temperature settings and adjusting the stove back to a medium heat. Jae walked up behind her and draped an arm around her shoulders, leaning over and giving her the sweetest kiss on the cheek he could muster.

  “Let’s eat some of this good cooking. I’ll get the plates.”

  Jae shifted under Madeline’s arm, rubbing his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time in the last forty-five seconds. He looked at the clock on his nightstand: 3:11 a.m.

  Another restless night. He folded back into his bed and let out a long, frustrated sigh, resting the back of his hand on his forehead. A soft, vibrating hum beckoned for his attention, and he turned to look at Madeline sleeping beside him. Half her face was sunken into her pillow, lips parted slightly as she snored. A silk blanket draped the moonlit curves of her body, feminine contours shimmering in the silver light. He reached over and brushed the strands of hair that pressed against her face, pushing them back from her eyelids. Her skin was smooth and warm, glowing like marble in the moon’s light.

  He looked outside the window. Nothing moved at this hour of the night except for shifting shadows and tricks of the mind. Cricket chirps and frog songs harmonized
outside, nocturnal noises humming without pause. Overhead, in the oily ocean of stars, the moon curved like the Reaper’s scythe, the bottom half of its crescent draped by drifting clouds.

  He looked away and stared at the dark canvas of the ceiling, conjuring a memory of his brother, vibrant and full of smiles. A scene flickered within sight of his mind’s eye. His mother emerged next, lean and strong, with long, straight black hair and wisdom etched in the skin under her eyes. She approached Han and kissed him on the cheek, welcoming him home. Jae’s father loomed behind her, with his big, wide shoulders and big, wide chest. His black hair was cropped short to the scalp. He lumbered over to Han and scooped him up, bear hugging him like he was just a little boy again.

  Jae closed his eyes and the image shimmered away. When he opened them back up, nothing flickered on the ceiling. Han was gone, as were his parents. Only the darkness stared back, that vast emptiness. A painful game, replaying memories. Those memories served as nothing more than a constant, harsh reminder of what he used to have and what was now lost.

  He shifted his body and lifted Madeline’s arm with careful delicacy, placing it back on her side of the bed. The arm curled up in reflex, digging underneath her pillow and propping her head up. She sighed, low and quiet. Jae slipped out of bed, the springs creaking beneath him, and maneuvered through the darkness, taking slow steps and navigating with prodding hands.

  He slipped on a robe and made his way over to his desk, blindly rummaging around until he found a key. He inserted it into a locked drawer and took out a photograph, business card, and burner phone. Locking the drawer, he turned around and drifted outside the bedroom. He took one last look at Madeline before closing the door.

  Jae took a chair at the dining table and placed an arm on the cool, varnished wood. Overhead, a hanging lamp provided a cone of illumination, insulating him from the darkness. After a brief moment, he took out the business card and unfolded it. The name and title read Bruce Grayson, Private Investigator. Jae flipped open his phone and dialed in the number. Several rings passed before an answer.