The Evolution Trigger (Evolution Trigger Trilogy Book 1)

by C. S. Won

  Madeline laughed. “Are you serious? Why didn’t he try and stop her?”

  “A part of me thinks he actually enjoyed it. He made no attempt to move away when she kissed him.” Jae shuddered. “I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”

  “Don’t be mean. It can’t be every day she gets an opportunity for some hot firefighter action.”

  “I know. She was a sweet old lady, and I’m glad Gabe took it all in stride.”

  “That’s good to hear. He’d be a dick if he got upset over something like that.” She narrowed her eyes at him, closing her left hand into a fist. “But I better not catch you messing around with any senior citizens, or you’ll get a taste of this.” She twisted her fist into her right palm, like she was grinding corn.

  “Don’t deprive me of my old ladies. A man has his needs.”

  “You’re so gross.”

  “Do you have any idea how erotic it is to see naked aged flesh?” He kissed his fingers, as if saluting a delicacy. “Truly a delight.”

  She punched him in the arm, feigning anger. “I catch you with my grandmother and we’re through.”

  “Don’t be jealous. You’re still kind of cute, even if you don’t have any wrinkles.”

  “You know I’m still going to be sexy when I’m of retirement age.”

  “Nothing says sex appeal like a pacemaker.” Jae kissed her. They looked up at the sky as they interlaced their fingers in a loving bond. The sun sank further beyond the horizon, the heat fading along with it. A gentle breeze came in, rustling the grass underneath their legs, signaling the imminent arrival of a cool summer night.

  The park still bristled with activity despite the waning hour of daylight. Joggers filled the paved walkways. Some of them brought their dogs alongside them—small dogs that had to scamper to keep up with their masters, and larger dogs that kept stride easily. Laughter and triumphant whoops reached over a grassy hill, courtesy of a youth league playing a competitive game of Ultimate Frisbee. Bodies soared through the air to catch that prized, spinning disk. A college student sat underneath a tree strumming his guitar, surrounded by doting young girls.

  Jae reached into their picnic basket and picked out a small handful of grapes, tossing one at a time into his mouth. He put a hand into his pocket and clutched the small box that he had deposited earlier. The weight of it bearing heavily on his mind, he glided his fingers along the edges of it. His heart raced. He had prepared for this moment a long time—rehearsing what he was going to say over a thousand times, working on his tone and posture in tireless fashion. And already his mind was seizing up. His prepared speech came to him like a broken puzzle, the pieces scattered all around him. He closed his eyes to streamline his thoughts, inhaling and exhaling in slow, steady, silent breaths.

  He looked at Madeline. Her long auburn hair rustled in the wind, wispy strands whipping across her forehead. She was transfixed on the sky, admiring the clearness of it all. The sunset hit her face at all the right angles, accentuating her features and highlighting the rosy tint of her cheeks. She had no idea what was coming.

  He sat up, propping himself onto a knee.

  “You know, Mad,” he said. She turned to look at him. “Speaking of growing old . . .” He pulled the small, black box out of his pocket and opened it. A diamond ring glimmered in the dying light of the sun. Madeline looked confused at first, as if she didn’t understand what the ring signified, almost frowning at it. But realization seeped into her eyes, and the gasp that came from her lips was sharp and sudden. The ring’s hard edges shone brilliantly. With trembling lips, she placed both hands to her chest.

  Thunder rumbled closer.

  “Mad, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’ve shown me so much respect and kindness. You understand what I need, what I want, and what I desire. And for that, I am eternally grateful. You care for me, you love me, and you’ve done more for me than anyone else that I know. You are the one, Madeline Ewing, my one and only. I love you. I always will.”

  Tears welled up to the brim of her eyes. He wasn’t sure if this was genuine surprise on her part or if she was just relieved that this was finally happening. Talk of marriage was never a prominent topic of conversation. When it did come up, it was often relegated to half-joking, shoulder-shrugging, what-if scenarios. They had been together for nearly two decades, first through a budding friendship, then something more deep and intimate. But even then, she never gave any indication she wanted to be a wife. Perhaps she was just letting him bide his time, knowing that he would ask the question when he was good and ready. If that were the case, it was all the more reason to love her. She never threw down any ultimatums, or unleashed a flood of passive-aggressive threats about marriage. Patience was her strategy, and so she let time work its course, never forcing the issue.

  She was a keeper, and Jae wanted to keep her.

  Thunder boomed nearby.

  “But not only that, Mad . . .” He paused for dramatic effect. “You’re one of the best lays I’ve ever had.” He could only imagine how stupid his grin must have looked. Madeline gasped, eyes wide with surprise, but she quickly chuckled, and slapped his shoulder. “Madeline, will you . . .”

  Thunder cracked and groaned in the skies above them. Jae looked up. Dusk was no more. In its place, a thick blanket of dark clouds loomed over them, stretching far across the skyline to distances the human eye could not perceive. Everybody in the park stopped what they were doing and looked up at the sky.

  “Impossible,” Madeline said, surveying the grey overcast. “It was clear like a second ago. Where did all these clouds suddenly come from?”

  “I knew I heard thunder. Damn it, I didn’t want to believe it,” Jae said.

  “The weather forecast called for clear skies all week.”

  “They really screwed that one up.”

  Mountains of murky clouds lit up like light bulbs. Lightning brewed inside, waiting to be unleashed. A drizzle began, whispering promises of something far more sinister to come. People made straight toward their cars or for the nearest shelter, rushing to beat the newly arrived storm.

  “Honey, maybe we should…” Madeline began, but Jae cut her off with a shake of his head. He wanted to finish this. This was their moment. He wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way, not even a little rain and thunder. Not this time. All he needed was a one word answer.

  “Will you marry me?” Jae asked.

  Lightning severed the skyline in the far distance, striking down in a cut of white. A roar of thunder followed at its heels, its call so powerful that it shook the ground they stood on. Madeline screamed, crouching low against the grass. More thunderbolts boomed, one after the other like explosions in a war, endless and persistent and terrifying. Powerful winds blew in from the west, then from the east, and then from the west again. Neither rhyme nor reason governed where the winds came from. They pulled Jae and Madeline in a thousand different directions. The rainfall developed a sharp edge, gaining strength as the turbulence grew wilder.

  Jae looked at Madeline. Fear was in her eyes, the storm rendering her incapable of giving the answer he wanted. Her hair, now doused completely, leaned heavy on her face, almost swallowing it whole. She had withdrawn against the sudden chill and arrival of the storm, slouched over with her arms bundled against her torso. Jae stood, annoyed but understanding why it was not to be. The proposal would have to wait for a third time. The magic and surprise would be long gone at that point, but the moment could be recaptured, at least.

  He helped her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist, ignoring the squall snapping at the back of their necks. The tempest, as if angry that they would dare to stand before it, grew in strength and intensity, doing its best to knock them back to the ground. Thunder bellowed overhead, urging them to respect its power. The air grew heavy and thick, the pressure almost unbearable. Most of the people in the park had already disappeared, leaving the two mired in the feverish storm alone.

  Gree
n grass turned luminescent white, a nearly blinding burst of light thrown onto their path. Jae looked up. Streaks of lightning surged across the clouds, traveling over the ridges and curves of the nimbus path they rode on, collecting at a single point that emulsified into a colossal swirl of pure elemental fury right above him. The clouds crackled at the seams, bubbling and expanding. Their edges brimmed with twinges of raw power, as if whatever was brewing inside was waiting to break free.

  Jae looked at Madeline and pushed her away, acting on instinct. She landed in an awkward sprawl several feet away. Her hair clawed at her face as it flapped wildly in the chaotic wind. She scrambled to her hands and knees, and yelled something at him. But her words were lost in the storm’s wrath, dying the moment they escaped her lips. The opera of thunderclaps drowned her out, the furious howl of the squall booming over her. But judging by the look of desperation and horror on her face, Jae knew she was yelling at him to run.

  Thunder roared. The swirling deluge of lightning above him pulsated, yearning and hungry and eager. Jae was awed. He had never seen anything like it before, not even in his wildest dreams. What was it doing? Why was all the storm’s lightning gathering above him?

  The clouds opened up for the briefest of moments. Lightning spilled out, flash-banging the world, devouring Jae and the earth he stood on.

  Chapter 11

  Gabe entered Adam’s room with a slight stumble in his steps. Weariness burdened his shoulders. Pain thumped in every corner of his head. Exhaustion pulled at his eyes. He closed the door behind him and took a sip of his coffee, black, and grimaced at the bitterness. He cursed at the heat singeing his tongue. Never again, he thought. No more late nights. I’m too old for this shit. He made his way across the room, a groan riding his lips as he struggled to recall what had happened the night before, but his excursion into Atlanta’s nightlife left him with nothing but a confusing swirl of events. Memories came to him in a grainy, fragmented highlight reel. The only thing he could recall with any modicum of clarity was from early in the night when he’d asked a striking raven-haired woman if she was from Brazil. Everything thereafter became a blur, a dizzying series of flashing lights, bodies grinding to loud music, and drinks being downed in rapid succession.

  He paused for a moment, fingertip scratching at the lid of his coffee cup. Something substantial began to crystallize in his mind, something evocative, and when the mental image finally took form and definition, he smiled. It was the Brazilian raven again, but this time it was much more than just a fleeting, incoherent memory. Here, he could remember the taste of her lips as they brushed against his, and how eager they were to find him. He could feel the firmness of her butt, his groping fingers marveling at the shape of her derriere, and the heat of her body as she pressed against him. They were midnight strangers dancing in a drunken, erotic haze—their hands exploring the space of the other.

  So, the night wasn’t a total loss then, he thought, smiling even wider.

  Adam’s room wallowed in heavy shades of pitch-black, soupy brown, and dirty yellow. The sun’s light barely managed to leak in through the thin cracks of the curtained window. Golden rays bled in a scattered arrangement across the length of the room. Dust motes danced in those thin traces of light, bouncing and swaying, eager to get their fill of the sun’s warmth. Gabe made his way to the window and yanked the curtains back with a flourish. Let there be light. Darkness scurried away from the sudden intrusion of the sun’s might, taking refuge beneath Adam’s bed and slinking back into the furthest corners. Gabe looked out the window, and to his mild surprise, saw that the sun had already begun its evening retirement, despite the tremendous amount of heat and illumination it still generated. A beautiful mesh of colors painted the world, fading orange bleeding into purple dusk. Gabe opened the window slightly, inviting a warm, easy wind to stream refreshment into the room.

  He took a seat next to the window and placed the coffee cup on the sill behind him. “What’s cooking, Adam?” He shook his head. “Sorry, that was in poor taste. I blame it on the alcohol. I’m still drunk from last night, I think.”

  The rhythmic ping from the EKG machine answered his attempt at humor, a pulsing heart beat beeping with cold indifference. Sighing, Gabe settled into his seat and began the difficult task of watching over this burned ruination of a man, studying the injuries, alert for any changes. Adam lied motionless save for his heaving chest. His body was tilted upright in his bed, while the machines that surrounded him monitored and nurtured him. Gabe watched him fight to draw breath, a battle to take what was once rightfully his. Every intake of oxygen was accompanied by a fogging of his mask and a sharp, ragged hiss.

  Gabe’s eyes fell to Adam’s missing arm. That hollow space sent sharp, cold twitches running up his spine. The sight of it still left him in disbelief. It was a scenario so surreal, so strange, and so foreign that the whole idea struck him as impossibility, as if it went against all laws of nature. He arched his own arm out in front of him, bending it at the elbow, curling his fingers, flexing his muscles, and opening and closing his hand. With each action he could feel the weight of his own blood and tissue and bone, connected, interlaced, built, and working in ways that were beyond his comprehension, yet so important for everyday function. An arm was a vital extension of a man, and to lose such a fundamental part staggered Gabe and made his head spin.

  The last thing he needed was to think such depressing and profound thoughts, especially after last night’s drunken bender. Gabe dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand, as if that were enough to make such dark thoughts flitter away. The company of food was just the thing to take his mind off such morose matters. He rummaged through his front pocket, and dug out a rumpled tuna sandwich he had hurriedly packed an hour prior to his visit. The plastic wrap sang as he peeled it off the sandwich, which was rolled up into a ball of sorts, the crust cracking and breaking at the edges. He flattened the bread out the best he could, careful not to tear it into pieces, and shoveled back the tuna spilling out from the corners. His nostrils flared as he gave it a good sniff. Satisfied that it smelled clean, he took a hungry bite. Delicious, despite its poor presentation.

  “Did you know they weren’t going to allow me to bring this in here?” Gabe waved the sandwich in the air. “The coffee, too. What kind of crazy rule is that? Did they really expect me to starve while I’m visiting you?” He shook his head at the gross injustice of it all. He took another bite. “Thankfully, I was able to charm the receptionist and have her bend the rules just a little bit. Wasn’t too difficult. All it took was a smile and some compliments, easy as that.” He smudged away some tuna creeping at the corner of lips with his thumb. “Speaking of which, I was thinking that maybe once this is all over, we can go pick up some girls, you and I. What do you say? We’ll hit the clubs, bars, streets, whichever you prefer, and I’ll make sure you get the highest quality trim. That’ll be my gift to you for being such a tough son of a bitch.” He shoved the last remaining bit of the sandwich into his mouth, savoring it. “I imagine there’ll be some girls out there who would go for the whole burned-man theme you’ve got going for you. You never know, right? Different girls love different shit. You just have to leverage what you’ve got.” He washed down the tuna with a sip of his coffee. “Just make sure you don’t marry the first doeeyed groupie that pouts her lips at you, okay? We all know how that worked out for you the first time around.”

  Thunder drummed softly in the distance. Gabe looked over his shoulder through the window, expecting to see a darkened sky sealing away the sun, but he saw an orange-purple tint to the heavens, instead. He scanned the horizon, looking past the skyscrapers, past the canopy of trees shimmering in the distance, but saw nothing to indicate an impending storm. Huh . . . must be hearing things. Shrugging, he turned away from the window and balled up the plastic wrap, flinging it towards a nearby trashcan. The ball careened off the lid and landed near the base of the can, rolling an inch or two before stopping.

  “Damn it.” S
quatting on his haunches, Gabe picked up the ball and flipped it underhanded toward the trash. But just as the ball was about to enter its cylinder, thunder rang out behind him, louder this time, like a gunshot going off right next to his head. He strangled out a sort of yelp and felt the ground leave his feet. His leg kicked out, sending the trashcan spiraling, aluminum screeching against marble. Gabe quickly grabbed it to stop its spinning, fumbling in his haste. Once the trashcan was settled under his control, he turned around and looked out the window again, wondering just how close that thunderclap was. Just as before, all was serene. Nothing drifted in the sky, not a single cloud. Only the sun was present, venturing farther away from him, sinking in the distance. “What the hell?” He walked over to the window, wondering if he was going insane. He braced himself for the next mysterious roar of thunder, but nothing ruptured the sky above. The only thing to disturb his hearing was the labored breathing of the unconscious man behind him. He turned to look at Adam, lying motionless in his bed, oblivious to the happenings of the outside world.

  Just how much did I have to drink last night?

  He struck his head with a firm thump of his hand, attempting to clear out whatever impurities were clogging his mind, and then hit it again for good measure. His skull throbbed and his ears rung from the self-inflicted punishment. The world spun for a moment, like he was going dizzy. But the thunder he thought he had heard rumbled no further, so he was satisfied that he had fixed whatever ailed him.