Genetic Abomination

by Dane Hatchell

  The World Wide Web was a wonderful place. You could buy practically anything online and never have to leave the comfort of home, because it would be delivered to your doorstep. Of course, there were certain restrictions on what you could legally purchase. That is, unless you knew your away around the web. Really, really, knew your way around the web. Because beyond Google and Bing, Amazon and eBay, there were other places the curious, the adventurist, could go. Places shunned by the good people of the local Baptist Church or the lawmakers of city hall. Douglas had found the Deep Web. Within the Deep Web, he found the Dark Web. Darknets made up the Dark Web. The Dark Web provided the ultimate shopping market for anything, and anything did mean anything, to those who had the means to purchase the illegal or extravagant excess.

  Douglas’ endeavor, though well-planned, was too difficult for him to execute alone. Fortunately, the acquaintance who had rebuilt his tractor proved to be a simple and trustworthy man. The man wasn’t very bright, despite his mechanic skills. But he had been ignored most of his life and was in need of a friend. A friend that he didn’t want to disappoint. A friend that treated him with respect and praise. A friend with a plan to make a large sum of money and share it with him.

  Dougie Douglas was that friend.

  A murder of crows squatting in a big maple erupted from their haunt in a mass of black, cawing in protest of whatever disturbed their rest, far beyond the barn.

  Douglas shifted his gaze from his mind’s eye and scanned the four acres of his garden. The land just behind his house was flat enough to more than double the size of his crop production if he wanted. But keeping up with four acres by himself was the best he could do. The property totaled thirty acres in all. The remaining land blended in with the other mighty trees of the neighboring national forest.

  Housed near the back of the barn, placed on the southern side in order to provide a little protection from the cold north winds of the winter, something raised the ire of his brood of chickens.

  First the crows and now the chickens. Somebody was on his property. It was probably those damn kids again. They had been messing with him of late. He had tried to quickly nip it in the bud, calling the local school and making a threat to shoot anyone he caught. He figured such an extreme reaction would prompt immediate action. Oh, he did get a visit from local police, too. But that had in fact been part of the plan. He wanted to show no fear of the authorities. If he was ever expected of being up to no good, why would he practically invite a call from the police? Douglas had confidence in his plan. He figured causing a distraction might throw a little more fear his way from the townspeople.

  The whiskey had found its way to the last drop in the bottom of the glass. Douglas pushed himself up from the rocking chair, feeling a sharp pain in his lower back for his reward in the field. He grabbed his shotgun and laid it on the porch while he sat on the steps and shoved on his boots.

  “They better not do something stupid, or I may not try to miss,” he told himself. He brought the long gun across his chest and pushed the safety to the off position. There wasn’t a shell in the chamber, but all it would take was a pull back of the front stock to load one in.

  The chickens had quieted by the time he made it to the back of the barn. Douglas’ tired eyes didn’t want to cooperate like they had when they were younger. He found himself making conscious efforts to discern images within his blurred vision. Of late, he had overlooked things he was searching for on a regular basis, even if they were in the drawer he was looking in. A trip to the eye doctor was something he admitted he had put off for too long.

  He turned his gaze to the ground. The dirt was drier now, so it would be harder for the culprit to leave tracks. The first time the unwanted visitor, or unwanted visitors, Douglas couldn’t be sure if there had been more than one person who had invaded his property, the ground had been softer due to an earlier drizzle. If it hadn’t been for the tracks, Douglas might have suspected a deer had breached his fence and got into what was remaining of his winter garden and some of the lettuce from his spring garden. But no, it was obvious an animal hadn’t done the damage. The prints left behind were made from shoes. Not just any ordinary shoes, but shoes massive in size. There was no way a conventional shoe had made that print; not even Shaquille O’Neal’s shoe could have been that large. These prints were obviously made with clown shoes epic in size. Douglas remembered seeing a clown at a circus wearing shoes that size once. He wondered then how the man was able to even walk in them.

  Something dropped on the top of Douglas’ floppy hat and hit the ground by his feet. He looked down and saw an acorn. Turning his gaze up, there were no trees near, especially not an oak, for the acorn to fall from. Maybe a bird dropped it, he thought. Though, he looked and didn’t see the culprit anywhere. But, his vision wasn’t the best, so where the missile had come from would just have to remain a mystery.

  Stepping over to his winter garden, someone had helped themselves to a few more turnips. The large shoe prints were in the area, but Douglas couldn’t be sure if any were fresh or just remnants from the day before. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure why kids would come all the way to his place to steal vegetables. He’d understand if maybe if they egged his house or TPed some trees.

  Whoever it was must have been strange. But having a snooper around wasn’t good. No, not good at all. He couldn’t afford to have some prankster spoil his plans. He’d have to go and buy one of those wildlife cameras and set it up to find who was trespassing. He’d do it first thing in the morning. The agitator needed to be brought to justice.

  Douglas headed back to the house and laughed to himself at that last thought. Justice, funny how people felt the wrong that they do as permissible, but let someone else try to take the same advantage, and they are in the wrong. It was all just part of human nature, he figured. So were vices. Some people could put limits on the things that tried to own their souls. Some people were weak and couldn’t control themselves. Those were the people Douglas sought out on the Dark Web. He could make their desires come true, and they would return the favor. To each, his own.

  An old green Chevy S-10 with a camper on the bed had pulled up in the back. The driver leaned against the vehicle while letting the sun warm his back. He pulled away to meet Douglas. His hands hid behind the front of his bib overalls.

  “How’s it going, Dougie?” the man asked.

  “Had a good day. Every day’s a good day when you know you’re going to hit the lottery,” Dougie said. He grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and rested the butt of the stock on the ground. He wiped some phlegm from the side of his lips, thinking that another glass of whiskey would be good right now. “Make any progress today?”

  The man shrugged. “I got my ears open. We gonna do it like the last time. Take our time. Wait for the opportunity to present itself. Then, bam! We’re in an’ out before you know it.”

  “I like a man with confidence,” Dougie said. “Say, you thirsty? I could use a little hootch, and I don’t like to drink alone when I have company.”

  The man laughed. “The only other person that comes around is me.”

  Dougie closed his left eye and shook his head. “Nah, I got someone poking around here. That needs to stop.”

  “Still?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m surprised. They sent out emails at the school. Made an announcement over the morning intercom and everything. I figured that would have spooked any kids off,” the man said.

  “Not yet, but I’m planning on getting one of those wildlife cameras and catching whoever it is.”

  “Good idea,” the man said.

  “Com’on, Buddy. Let’s go pour ourselves a stiff one. We can check on the goods a little later on.”

  Chapter 13

  The Future

  Breakfast ended with Tarik, Zax, and Lixa sharing company with their inner silence. Tarik’s mind raced with possible scenarios of today’s raid. He wanted to be prepared for any possible situation but knew the
re would always be an aspect of the unknown. Just like the Skink that came upon him and Zax in the city, right before they entered old-life. It was impossible to anticipate all the conceivable surprises. He was just going to have to stay focused and be one hundred percent on guard.

  Communications from the rebel team brought news, that after they had escaped the base in the two-people jumpships, efforts to create a false trail to lead the Skink security regiments had been successful. Grim reality set in when Tarik learned that a number of Nu-Man supporters had lost their lives in the process.

  This made him feel incredible guilt. Lives were sacrificed so that he might live. There was no reward for them other than the pride they felt in a last attempt to strike at the alien invaders.

  Tarik owed them a debt impossible to quantify. The only way he could repay was to make sure their blood hadn’t spilled in vain.

  “It’s almost time,” Zax said as Tarik exited the washroom. “How are you feeling?”

  Tarik’s stomach had been tied up in knots since breakfast. The emptying of his bowels did little to lighten the heavy burden he carried. “I feel like a lit fuse waiting to explode.”

  “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but it’s part of our training. Stay calm. You know the plan. Everyone else knows their part, too. We’ve proven we’re smart enough to stay one step ahead of the Skinks. We’ll hit fast and take them by surprise. You’ll be through the time window, and I’ll be out and back at another safe-house soon after.”

  Yes, that was the plan. Tarik would concentrate on executing the plan and not entertain any other distractions.

  After telling himself that, Lixa came away from the communications transmitter. “The scout ship will be here soon. You two need to get ready.”

  “I don’t know how they did it,” Tarik said. “Stealing a scout ship must have taken a lot of resources.” That was a kind way of saying lives were lost.

  Then Lixa’s words dawned on Tarik. “Uh, what about you? Your jumpship is coming to pick you up too, right?”

  “Mine will be here a little later,” Lixa said.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Tarik said, he looked over at Zax to judge his reaction.

  “It can’t be helped. She can’t come with us. We’re leaving straight from here to the nuclear facility.”

  He turned his attention back to Lixa. This wasn’t good. No matter how well they had covered their tracks, the Skinks were sure to discover their ruse at some point. Tarik would have felt much better knowing Lixa was heading off to another safe-house at the same time.

  “I’ll be fine. My ship will be here in less than an hour,” Lixa said. If she were pretending to be brave, she was doing a good job of it.

  “You need to suit up,” Zax said. The Nu-Man had his body armor and backpack on, ready to roll.

  Tarik turned his gaze toward the mech-armor across the room and realized he might be looking at his coffin. The thought of dying didn’t make him feel sad. Dying alone inside an alien exoskeleton did. He would prefer to meet his demise while holding Lixa in a loving embrace. That thought seemed almost blissful.

  “You’re going to make it, Tarik,” Lixa said. “I can feel it in you. There’s an unstoppable power inside your soul.”

  The human stepped over and looked deep into her green eyes. He was going to make it. He was going to succeed not so much because of himself, but because of what others had invested in him. Tarik was the accumulation of hundreds of others’ hard work.

  Lixa’s soft smile and the memory of the shared night made him feel like he could take on the whole Skink invasion single-handedly, without his mech-armor. He reached up with both arms as she leaned forward, and the two hugged. “Thank you for everything. I can accomplish things today that I couldn’t have yesterday, because of you.”

  A tear from Lixa wet Tarik’s cheek.

  “Goodbye, Tarik.” The words she had spoken struggled to get out.

  They parted with an awareness that Zax was in the room with them. Lixa stiffened her back and straightened her shoulders. Tarik walked dutifully over to his mech-armor.

  The maroon transmetal armor opened at the head, arms, chest, and legs, welcoming Tarik in its cold embrace. He stepped up to it and turned around, reaching the hold with his right hand to pull himself up. The ritual continued with his right foot finding the foot frame until his heel secured in place. Nestling his back and arms in position, he brought his left leg in its spot until his body fit in snuggly. Secure, the armor snapped together, and man and transmetal were one with each other.

  The electronics came to life, and the HUD’s startup routine passed all of the system checks. Tarik was now isolated from the rest of the world. He had breathed unfiltered air from this Earth for the last time. Wearing the armor skewed his reality and strengthened his resolve. The suit made him feel invincible.

  *

  It wasn’t long before the communication came of the scout ship’s arrival. The three exited the safe-house and walked a short distance to an area suitable for the ship to land.

  Zax and Tarik waved farewell to Lixa, who stood tall and proud returning the wave and offering another toward the cockpit, where she knew her father, Bix, was most likely waving back.

  The Nu-Man was the first up the landing ramp. Tarik stopped before he stepped up and gave Lixa another wave. He turned and disappeared into the ship.

  Lixa watched as the alien craft rose from the overgrown area to a level above the trees. It quickly gained speed until it was no longer in sight.

  Loneliness set in immediately on the walk back to the safe-house. But the feeling was unlike any common emotion she’d had before. Part of her felt missing. The part of her heart that Tarik took with him. She’d chastised herself for being so silly, not knowing Tarik but for a couple of days. Then, there was that minor issue being intimate with a human. Interspecies relationships were unheard of. Skink and Nu-Man romances were non-existent. Of course, there were no humans other than Tarik on the planet for any relationship to develop. She wondered what Zax thought of her deviant behavior. It was hard for her to judge herself because of the mixed feelings.

  Even though the safe-house was empty of people, it somehow felt smaller. Zax and Tarik were only a memory, almost like they had never been there. And what of her future? What of the future? As each second ticked by, she was faced with the possibility of reality shredding into an unknown outcome. She would simply cease to exist. As scary as that thought was, she had to reason with herself that if that happened, she wouldn’t be aware of her loss. Almost like dying in her sleep; she wouldn’t be aware of the event.

  Lixa’s mind drifted off into a million different directions. She thought of the special times she’d shared with her parents. Simple things, like little games when she was a small child. Her dad, a big and brute Nu-Man with few peers worthy to challenge him, often came to impromptu tea parties in her room. Lixa had a child’s table set up with her dolls and stuffed animals sitting around waiting for an imaginary cup of tea. Bix would sit on the floor and share in conversation with the whole group. He would repeat questions he pretended Lolly Dolly would ask, or other toys, and give funny answers. Lixa used to laugh and laugh how silly her dad could be.

  The trip down memory lane ended when she noticed the time. The jumpship should have been there for her by now. In fact, the whole situation felt very wrong.

  Something bumped the house. It didn’t sound like the wind and trees outside.

  She listened intently. The silence seemed to grow louder.

  All she had was a blaster, as Tarik had taken the railgun. The blaster, even with the special ammo, would have little effect if Skink warriors showed up.

  There was another noise from outside.

  Lixa ran to the zero energy battery used to recharge Tarik’s mech armor and pushed it over by the kitchen table, near the other zero energy battery used to power the house. Frantically, she sifted through supplies and electric extras until she found a set of cables
.

  A hard object pounded the front door, splintering wood, and slamming it against the wall.

  She connected the clamps on one end of the cable to the positive and negative poles of a battery, and just one clamp on the other battery.

  Two Skink warriors busted through the entrance and stopped when they entered the room. The two looked about, seemingly uninterested in the female in the kitchen.

  One of the warriors finally acknowledged her, and asked, “Where are they?”

  Life had abruptly come to this point. Her turmoils of the day had all been for naught. The future was clear. There was no longer any doubt.

  Zero energy batteries contained vast amounts of potential power. Crossing the negative and positive poles on two ZE batteries would result in a massive explosion. Of course, safeguards had been built into the battery to prevent such a mistake from happening. But, if the circuitry safeguarding that event was disabled, well, nothing inside a half mile radius would be left standing.

  “You will tell us where they are,” the other Skink warrior said.

  “This is not your world,” Lixa said. She brought the last clamp near the open pole. “You should have never come to Earth. We’re going to make you regret you ever did. I’m starting the war now.”

  The clamp touched the pole.

  The world went bright, and then it went dark.

  The darkness was comforting. Lixa felt like a swaddled newborn.

  She knew, but she didn’t know.

  She was a seed waiting to be planted and grow.

  *

  Larex was in the cockpit piloting the scout ship. The seven other rebels greeted Zax and Tarik as they stepped aboard. Each Nu-Man wore their protective body armor and were ready for war. The team, minus the two lost in the earlier battle, was whole again.

  “You two good to go?” Bix asked. The somber look on his face masked any fear he might have felt.

  “As well as can be,” Zax said.

  “I’m loaded and fully functional,” Tarik said. “This is as good as it’s ever going to get.”