A Poisoned Mind

by Andre Gonzalez

  The Colonel let that sink in, and watched as Jonathon's eyes widened in disbelief.

  "I don't understand, sir. Extraterrestrials? Aliens? They aren't real."

  Colonel Griffins grinned. "There are some things better not shared with the world. With your acceptance of this job, you need to also understand you can't speak of it with anyone. That includes your family and significant other."

  Colonel Griffins went on to explain more details on the extraterrestrial beings, known as Exalls. A handful of Exalls remained scattered across the globe at all times, but approximately every thirty years, hundreds would return to Earth and usually caused a disturbance. This is where The Crew came into play, working to prepare and fight for the pending invasions. The Crew served as the highest level of intelligence within the government, but only the President knew of their existence. The secret department had the tall task of remaining ahead of the Exalls' evolving ways. "Those gray bastards can do some really sick shit," the colonel admitted.

  Jonathon nodded, remaining silent as he tried to understand the bomb that had been dropped about the alien species he would work against.

  "I think I understand, but this will definitely take some time for me to grasp all of this."

  "Of course," Colonel Griffins said in a lighter tone. "That's common, and we have plenty of classroom type training to help get you up to speed on what you'll be dealing with. It's a process, but you'll find the work to be as challenging as you could hope. And of course you can always reach out to me with any questions."

  "Will do."

  "Now...you'll be heading back to California shortly. Try to clear your mind and celebrate the new job. We'll be sending your offer letter through another one of those protected links. Read through it all, it's kind of long. Do the electronic signature and get it back to me by end of next week. At that point, we'll be in touch on coordinating your move to the east coast, so start looking at some potential neighborhoods you might be interested in."

  Jonathon nodded and stood up. "I really do appreciate this opportunity, Colonel. I look forward to working with you." His voice came out sounding robotic like the automated phone tellers that answer when calling in to the cable company. He felt like he was in a dream, and wanted to pinch himself to arrive back to reality, preferably in his bed in California.

  There was no bed. No dream. Colonel Griffins walked Jonathon out of the office through the long stretches of cubicles and the elevator. He shook his trembling hand as they stood in the main lobby. "I know this is a lot to process. Please take a couple days to sleep on it and think clearly about what lies ahead. If you have questions, let me know. Otherwise, I'll expect a response by week's end."

  "Thank you, sir. I'll definitely let you know."

  Jonathon walked outside to find the same town car awaiting him for the trip back to the airport. Ciro continued his silence, having no interest in conversing with Jonathon during the ride. His mind raced, even though he knew he would accept the offer. First, he wanted to get an engagement ring for Gianna.

  ********

  These events three years prior were nothing but distant memories as Jonathon wavered in the shower, vomit dripping down his leg and swirling around in the drain. His head pounded in every spot, and he thought the walls were closing in around him and put out his arms to hold himself up.

  "We're still going to work today," he whispered. "It'll be later. You just need to call the colonel and let him know."

  He hurled the final remains of last night's spaghetti before shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower. His cell phone rested on the sink, so he grabbed it and dialed Colonel Griffins, catching a glimpse of the time as 7:45 a.m. while the phone rang.

  "Jonny, everything okay?" Colonel Griffins asked without greeting. "You're usually here by seven."

  "Sorry, sir. Don't think I'm gonna make it in today. Spent all night and morning puking my brains out."

  "Well damn, I'm sorry to hear that. It's a critical time for us, as you know, so I need you to stay home until you're a hundred percent. Can't afford to have anyone else on the team fall under the weather."

  "Of course, Colonel. I'll do everything I can today to speed up my recovery. Hopefully it's just a 24-hour stomach bug."

  "Sounds like a plan. Keep me posted, and hope you feel better."

  Jonathon hung up and felt the exploding bombs in his stomach disappear as if they were plucked right out of his gut. The headache that had sunk its teeth into his brain also gave way; he felt normal again.

  Except he didn't.

  He gazed at his cell phone in his wet hand and saw the completed call with Colonel Griffins, but couldn't remember speaking with him. He scratched his head in frustration, trying to recall the conversation with his boss.

  "Baby, are you alright?" Gianna called from outside the bathroom. Her voice was high pitched, but muffled through the door. "I heard you throw up some more."

  "Yes, I'm feeling much better after that last one. Could you bring me some water please?" he shouted back as he looked into the foggy mirror, unable to see himself.

  "Alright, I'll be right back."

  Jonathon figured dehydration caused his scattered mind. He lost track of how many times he had vomited since going to bed the night before, but realized he hadn't drunk any water to replenish his lost fluids. Red marks spotted his skin, another sign of dehydration. He sat on the toilet, looking back through his phone to try and jog his memory, but still couldn't remember anything but telling the colonel he would not be going in to work.

  "We're still going in, though," he whispered.

  Who the fuck is we? he thought.

  "We're everything that matters," he whispered again. "We're in this together. With you, Jonny." His mouth spoke, but his mind didn't authorize it. He had control over his thoughts, but suddenly felt helpless over his body, like a mere visitor in his own flesh.

  He could still see, but it felt more like looking out of a house window. His heart beat its steady rhythm within his chest, and he could still feel. Everything seemed connected except for his actual movements.

  Jonathon stood up and turned around to face the mirror, clearing up from steam, and saw himself grinning back.

  "Hello there, handsome," he said in his normal voice. "We have a big day ahead! Glad you cleaned up."

  Get the fuck out of my body!

  "Ha! I'll leave you alone when the time is right. Until then, we need each other. Got it?"

  I know who you are. You're one of them. If you think an Exall can actually get away with hijacking a Crew member's body, you must be high.

  "So high," he cracked a smile as Gianna knocked on the door. "Hey babe, thanks for the water. Think I'll be feeling great after I drink some!"

  He pulled open the door to find her concerned expression as she held a glass of water in hand. Her green eyes grew in shock, and she brushed her flowing light brown hair from her face to get a better look at the patches of red on his skin that looked more like rashes now.

  "Oh shit, what's wrong with your skin?" she gasped.

  He looked down, sure to wipe the grin off his face and faked his own look of disbelief. "Pretty sure I just need some water. I'm pretty lightheaded after all the puking."

  "Ok, well I'll be in the living room. Come lay down and relax after you get dressed," Gianna said and closed the door.

  He looked down at his naked body, having forgot that he just stepped out of the shower and still had speckles of water all over.

  You leave her out of this, Jonathon thought. I swear I'll kill you.

  "Well that's up to you Jonny Boy," he said, returning to that devilish smile in the mirror. "You do as I say and don't try to resist me, and GiGi will be left alone. But if you fuck with me, I'll fuck with you. Just remember that!"

  Jonathon kept his mind silent, knowing the Exall would hear any concrete thought that crept into his mind.

  "Then let's get the day started!" he exclaimed, puffing out his chest and flexing his arms
. "We have a busy day ahead of us. Places to go and people to see. Chop chop!"

  He felt his body moving in what seemed like the speed of light as he dried and dressed himself in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He started to lose hope as he felt control over his body completely slip away. How could he notify anyone at work that he had been hijacked by their sworn enemy if he couldn't pick up the phone and make a call for himself?

  I'll go along for this, but I promise you'll pay.

  "That's what I like to hear," he said, departing the bathroom and heading down the narrow hallway to the living room where Gianna laid across the sofa with her feet up on the arm rest.

  "Come lay down with me. We'll watch movies all day," she said, tying her hair in a ponytail to keep from falling over her face.

  "That sounds good," Jonathon said. "I think I'll go in to work after lunchtime. I really am feeling much better after the shower."

  "Babe, c'mon. Just have a sick day for once! You already called in." Disappointment took over her usual perky face.

  "I would if there wasn't a crisis going on. There's a situation in Denver and I need to make sure everything runs smoothly."

  Jonathon had revamped the software used to operate The Crew's highly advanced system to track the Exalls, known as the Exall Tracking Device, or ETD. It combined the sciences of geocoding, radiant energy, and complex programming. The ETD served as a heat map, showing green dots to represent Crew members and their families, and red dots to show the location of Exalls. His work directly effected the lives of those Crew members working in the field all around the globe. Without his refined system, many would be left vulnerable to attacks by Exalls, but instead could remain a step ahead.

  "If you say so," Gianna said in a dismissive tone. "Just don't be home late if you go in. I know how you like to play catch up. Besides, if you get home on time, I might not be wearing anything while I'm cooking dinner. It's feeling like one of those days."

  "Then I'll be home nice and early," he said with a wide grin.

  Don't you fucking dare! Jonathon shouted from within.

  Gianna would occasionally cook dinner wearing nothing but an apron. These nights often led to burnt chicken or noodles boiled into complete mush, followed by a trip to Mr. Panda down the street for carryout dinner. Jonathon hated seeing food wasted under normal circumstances, but when this occasion arose, he took no issue looking the other way, usually with a drunken grin and messy hair to go with it.

  After some TV and Chinese food, they often enjoyed each other for dessert to cap off the night, a tradition that had started in Gianna's dorm room at Stanford.

  Jonathon watched his hand push his glasses up the bridge of his nose and his legs walk toward Gianna. He laid down behind Gianna on the couch, his inner mind trying to figure out how to get out of this situation while he continued to have no control.

  "I love you," he told Gianna, and kissed her on the back of the head, cracking a small grin.

  ********

  Jonathon awoke hours later to find the clock reading 2:00 p.m.

  "Oh shit, I gotta go!" he jumped up from the couch, stirring Gianna who had also fallen asleep. Judge Judy played on the TV, shouting at a middle-aged man about his stupidity in handling a car accident.

  He ran into their bedroom and swapped out his lounging clothes for a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, his usual work attire. The Crew maintained a lax dress code. "We're two hundred feet underground and a secret. If you're not active military, who gives a shit what you're wearing!" Colonel Griffins had told him on the first day when he arrived in a three-piece suit.

  He ran down the hallway to find Gianna sitting up, arms stretched above her head while she yawned away her nap.

  "You're really going? Alright then."

  "I promise I'll be back on time. I love you." He kissed her on the lips this time, causing some fumes within as Jonathon tried to wrestle his mind to take control back.

  "Love you too. Have a good few hours."

  He walked outside and sat down in his car, an all black Toyota Camry.

  "Let's do this!" he shouted in the empty car. "I'm so glad you're along for the ride, Jonny Boy. We're gonna have a blast, if you know what I mean."

  He didn't. He knew something was going to happen, as if he could catch a glimpse into the mind of his hijacker. He couldn't pinpoint the exact plan, but could sense the danger in his poisonous thoughts.

  The drive was short, usually twenty minutes with traffic. Leaving after lunch time, however, meant an open road and their arrival to the Pentagon in ten minutes. Jonathon had made the drive hundreds of times and could navigate the route in his sleep. This time he couldn't help but notice every tree, bird, and cloud that passed him by as he watched through the lens of his eyes.

  This doesn't end well for me does it? he asked.

  "Jonny Boy! Everything ends great for us. You'll be a legend!"

  There is no us, so stop fucking saying that.

  "I'll say what I want, and you'll do what I want. Don't forget that."

  What are you planning? What difference does it make if you tell me or not? I can't stop you at this point.

  "Nice try, Jonny. Don't try reverse psychology on me, that's child's play. I'll keep the surprise so I can see your face when it's time for the big show."

  They drove in silence until arriving to the Pentagon's main entrance. Jonathon hoped somehow the guard would identify him as someone else, even though his appearance remained unchanged. He felt a rush of panic as the car approached the guard at the arm gate.

  "Now, now. Stay calm and take it easy. We have some work to do, and I need to access your mind. Hard to do when you're so flustered."

  He flashed his badge which he kept stored in the glove box, getting the familiar nod from the guard. "Have a good one, Mr. Browne."

  Shit.

  They drove to the staff section of the parking lot and parked the car three rows from the entrance. Jonathon stood and walked with a confident posture to the familiar lobby of The Crew's office, flashing his badge at the soldier guarding the entrance.

  He kept his smooth stroll going through the lobby, nodding to the soldier at the reception desk and greeting, "Good afternoon!" in a cheery voice. He pushed his way through the side door to the offices and walked as quietly as possible, slouching to keep his head from being seen above the cubicles he passed.

  "We need to make this quick, or they'll kill us both," he whispered. "Now give me your password for your computer."

  Gianna090114.

  "How lovely, your anniversary."

  He hurried down the long hallway of cubicles, passed the elevator, and pushed open a door to take the stairs instead. The Exall's body control was as graceful as a veteran basketball star as he sprinted down the flight of steps in what seemed like seconds. He shoved open the door upon arriving to his floor and continued his stealthy walk to Jonathon's desk, sitting behind the idle computer. Pictures of Gianna posted on his wall greeted him while he waited for the computer to power up. His leg bounced in rapid succession out of control.

  Nervous? Asshole.

  "C'mon, c'mon," he whispered impatiently before the screen lit up with its familiar glow, prompting for a login. He smiled and licked his lips as he typed in the password. "Now we need to rework your tracking system. I presume it's this application called ETD Coding?"

  Like hell you're getting in there. Absolutely fucking not!

  "We don't have time to bicker. If you don't turn off the piece of coding that shows me sitting at your desk right now, they will come over here and shoot us in the head! Now is that the right one?"

  Yes.

  "Great!" he said, returning to a normal tone before lowering his voice for a follow up question. "Now how do I delete the red dots that represent us?"

  He told him the line of coding to find and had him delete it completely from the program. The Exall was right. If anyone had caught the flashing red dot at Jonathon's desk, it would be lights out with no second guessing, so he h
ad him confirm and save the changes, leaving the entire Crew clueless to Exalls' locations all over the world.

  "Absolutely beautiful, Jonny Boy. Nice work! Now how can I confirm that we are all set?"

  He directed him to another program on his desktop titled Live ETD which opened an interactive map of the D.C. metro area. Green dots lit up the Pentagon and its surrounding area. Not a single red dot appeared along the entire east coast after he zoomed out on the map for a broader search.

  "I love it!" he gasped, clapping his hands like a little kid.

  Okay, now leave me alone and let me go home. I've done enough damage for you.

  "On the contrary, our work has just begun! Here I am inside the walls of the terrorist group that wants to wipe out my species' existence. And you think I wanna leave now? I haven't done a thing yet."

  He watched as his arms reached over to the old, rusty filing cabinet underneath the right side of his desk and pulled open the drawer to reveal a dark gray pistol. The steel gleamed as he pulled it out, admiring it.

  Don't you fucking dare!

  "Why didn't you tell me you had a gun?" he asked while gripping it so tight his knuckles turned a shade of white. "Now we can really have some fun."

  You'll never get away with this. We have so much on you. Our team will figure this out and save me from you.

  "Who said anything about getting away? We die together if it comes to it. Or we live together forever. Admit it, once they find out what you did, they'll kill you. I know your game and how it works."

  He kept his thoughts silent, realizing what the Exall said was true. He would have to watch through his own eyes as his body was shot dead. Too much damage was done by his own hand and he had no way out. Cameras covered every inch of the office and they would see him deleting coding from his computer. He felt the draining feeling of heartache as he realized he would never see Gianna again.