Replication: A Kid Sensation Novel (Kid Sensation #6)
Page 36
I reached into my jacket’s interior pocket and pulled out the wooden case. As expected, Jack began moving towards me, closing the distance between us as he stared at what I held. In my head, I began playing out the upcoming scene: I’d pop open the case, grab the syringe and attempt to inject him. With his clairvoyance, Jack would see the threat coming and avoid it, after which Mouse would turn on the nulli –
My thoughts were cut off as I abruptly dropped like a stone down to the roof of the building, as did Jack. I landed on my side and pain lanced throughout my entire body as the wind was knocked out of me. (Much to my chagrin, Jack seemed to land on his feet.)
Then I realized I’d answered my own question: if the nullifier were on, I wouldn’t have my telepathy. But in that case, why had I fallen? And why wasn’t I able to turn off my pain receptors? (And believe me, I was trying.)
The Bolt Blast! I realized with a start. Jack hadn’t been trying to hit me. He’d been taking aim at the nullifier equipment. For a moment I was worried, as Mouse was actually with the equipment on one of the other buildings. Thankfully, Jack had only fired the one blast (and from all indications, my mentor was okay).
Because of the speed involved in telepathy, the conversation with Mouse only took a few seconds. Needing him to concentrate on the nullifier, I broke the mental connection to my mentor. I then turned towards my doppelganger and saw him bending down to retrieve something. It was the wooden box holding the syringe; I had apparently dropped it when I fell to the roof.
Somewhat panicked, I began trying to rise when I noticed two things. First, Jack turned the box upside down and shook it, but nothing came out. It was empty.
The other thing I noticed was the syringe. It was lying under an AC unit not far from my evil twin. It seemed that when I dropped the box containing it, the syringe had rolled free.
As I struggled to my feet, Jack apparently came to the same conclusion I did regarding the box’s contents, because he bent down, gripped the underside of an AC unit next to him with one hand, and ripped it up from the roof almost effortlessly, bolts and all. My eyes widened as I realized he still had super strength. Fortunately, the syringe was not under the unit in question.
Rethinking his strategy, Jack unexpectedly got down on all fours, peering under the structures near him. Seeing that, I became decidedly more anxious. Assuming he retrieved it, Jack wouldn’t know what the syringe contained, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that it wasn’t anything beneficial. More to the point, if he got his hands on it, I had serious doubts about my ability to take it away from him as long as he had super strength.
Feeling somewhat desperate, I quickly did a sound check of my powers as Jack came back to his feet – specifically, those that might let me get the syringe before Jack.
Telekinesis? No.
Teleportation? No.
Super speed? No.
Nothing that might help seemed to be working, and I grew a little anxious as Jack began moving towards the AC unit that was over the syringe. As he bent down and gripped the underside of the structure, I made a last-ditch effort. All of my prior attempts to use my powers were focused on getting the syringe into my hands; this time, I attempted to use a power that would keep it away from Jack: invisibility. Much to my surprise, it worked.
The expression on his face was classic as, after lifting the AC unit and expecting to find the syringe, he saw nothing. He then glanced around, looking completely befuddled – until his eyes settled on me.
Up until that point, Jack had seemingly forgotten about me. Maybe he thought that I was unconscious. Or maybe he believed that the fall had killed me. Or maybe he was just hyper-focused on the contents of the wooden box. Regardless, he had suddenly become acutely aware of my presence, and that was a serious problem.
“What did you do with it?” he asked, stalking towards me.
“Do with what?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
Rather than respond verbally, Jack growled and leaped at me. Anticipating something along those lines, I turned invisible, at the same time ducking and diving to the side. Luck was with me because I managed to evade his grasp, but just barely. I then scrambled away madly as he turned around looking for me, his face contorted with rage.
“Where are you?!” he demanded.
Oh yeah – like I’m gonna answer that, I thought.
I quietly slipped around a couple of AC units, heading for the syringe. My vision had switched over to the infrared once I became invisible, so I didn’t have any trouble spotting it. However, before I could get to it, I had my feet knocked from under me.
I landed on my backside, wondering what was happening since the entire building seemed to shake for a few seconds. An earthquake, maybe? Getting to my feet after the shuddering subsided, I looked around for Jack; he was standing in roughly the same area where he’d leaped at me, and as I watched, I saw him raise and then stomp his foot. In conjunction with his action, the roof shook again, and I struggled to stay on my feet.
So that was his plan. If he couldn’t see me, then he’d simply try to prevent me from moving by keeping me off-balance. It wasn’t a terrible idea, and with super strength, he could probably keep it up indefinitely. (Presumably, however, he’d only keep at it until he found some way to sweep the roof and locate me.) Not caring to wait until his plan unfolded, I came up with an idea. I employed my invisibility power once more, and then made myself visible.
Jack was in the process of raising his foot to stomp again when he saw me. Rather than say anything, he simply charged, growling menacingly. I stood my ground as he came barreling towards me – and then tried not to laugh as Jack seemed to run unexpectedly (and painfully) into an invisible wall of sorts. In truth, however, it wasn’t a wall but rather one of the AC units that I’d turned invisible (and I had to hustle to get out of the way, as – with a screech of torn metal – the force of Jack’s impact ripped it from its moorings and sent it skidding across the roof). It wasn’t as satisfying as maybe punching him myself, but it was the next best thing.
The incident left Jack momentarily disoriented, and I used the opportunity to go after the syringe. Switching my vision to the infrared, I noticed that it had rolled away from its prior location – presumably because of Jack’s earthquake mimicry – but didn’t seem to be damaged. Gripping it in my hand but leaving it invisible, I looked back at Jack and saw that he appeared to have recovered.
Jack rushed me again, with similar results as the first time, but he was obviously a quick study. It only took two more unexpected encounters with roofing structures to make him tire of this new game. A little banged up but none the worse for wear, he changed his tactics and gave up on charging at me like a shark that smelled blood in the water.
On my part, I was disappointed. I’d been hoping Jack would be so enraged by me evading him that he’d keep running into things until he knocked himself out. (Or, barring that, at least dazed himself sufficiently for me to inject him with the neural blocker.) Now, noticing the way he stared at me, I could tell that he was thinking of some new way to deal with the problem I represented.
&
nbsp; There was about forty feet between us when Jack made his move. Unexpectedly, he reached for a satellite dish that was near him and, in one fluid motion, ripped off the reflector and flung it at me. Shaped like a dish, the reflector came in low and fast, and I instinctively jumped to avoid having it take me out at the knees. It was a critical error.
Once, years ago, I’d had a short stint playing basketball in an intramural league. We’d been fortunate to have as our coach a neighborhood mom who had played both in college and professionally. One of the things she’d taught us was that when you have the ball and someone’s defending you, if you can get them to leave their feet you’ve got the advantage, because they’re committed at that point.
That’s exactly what Jack had gotten me to do. Jumping up had committed me to a course that I couldn’t deviate from; once I was in the air, I couldn’t do anything but go back down. And Jack, apparently guessing what my reaction would be to the projectile he’d flung my way, had followed up on his throw by immediately leaping at me.
In the movies, it would have been one of those scenes where everything slows down: as Jack came at me, I would have brought up the syringe, popped the protective cap off, and put my thumb on the plunger. And then, as he reached me, we’d go down to the ground with him on top of me. A moment later, I roll him off me, with the syringe sticking out of his chest. Cue applause.
None of that happened.
Having left my feet, I saw him coming at me and realized there was nothing I could do. There certainly wasn’t time to get the syringe in position to inject him. All I could really do was try to brace myself somewhat as he hit me like a missile.
I went down hard, banging my head soundly on the surface of the roof as once again I had the wind knocked out of me. At the same time, I lost my grip on the syringe, which went skittering off to the side. I was a little stunned and trying to get my bearings when I found myself hoisted off the ground by the neck. Jack, holding me aloft with one hand, smiled.
“I told you this wouldn’t end pleasantly for you,” he reminded me. “I’m sincerely sorry it has to be this way.”
Slowly, he began to squeeze.
Chapter 90
Feet dangling, I clawed and beat frantically at the hand gripping me, but to no avail. My efforts made no impression on Jack – I’m not even sure he felt them. As my body began to run out of air, I started to see spots before my eyes. In about a minute or less, I’d pass out and it would all be over.
Oddly enough, what flitted through my mind at that point wasn’t nostalgic memories of my family, recollections of having fun with my friends, or reflections on time spent with my girlfriend. No, what popped up in my brain was what I considered the one silver lining that would come out of dying by Jack’s hand: I wouldn’t have to work for Gray now.
Gray! Just the name brought to mind a crucial fact I’d forgotten, and gave me a slim sliver of hope.
Almost in a panic, I began trying to alter my features. I didn’t even know if I still had my shapeshifting ability, as I hadn’t tried it since we’d been on the roof. A moment later, I felt a small sense of relief as I felt changes taking place with my countenance, but with Jack’s iron grip around my throat, I was still deep in the danger zone.
Without warning, the vise around my neck loosened. It wasn’t enough to let me drop to the ground, but I was able to draw in air again. After a few deep breaths, my vision cleared, and I saw Jack staring at me with a mix of bewilderment, anger, and determination. The hand that held me seemed to pulse, squeezing and loosening almost rhythmically. I understood what was happening: flexor and extensor muscles in Jack’s hand were engaging in an epic battle, with the former trying to choke me out and the latter trying to let me go.
Jack’s hand began to tremble with the conflicting effort, which was basically a reflection of the mental battle he must be going through. On the one hand was his desire to kill me; on the other was the fact that his conditioning wouldn’t let him harm Gray, whose face I now wore.
“What is this?” Jack asked. “What have you done to me?”
Despite how dire my situation was, I laughed – right in his face. Jack obviously didn’t know about the psychological barriers his handlers had placed in his head.
My amusement infuriated Jack, and he literally redoubled his efforts to strangle me by placing his other hand around my neck as well. Arms trembling and visibly straining with exertion, he continued trying to throttle me, grunting loudly. As much as he tried, however, his handhold never got any tighter. Finally, after about fifteen seconds of futile struggle, he released me, howling in exasperation.
I landed off-balance and flopped onto my rear. I put a hand up to my neck, gently massaging my throat while at the same time awkwardly scuttling backwards, trying to put some distance between myself and Jack. But it turned out that there was no need to rush, as my doppelganger was momentarily preoccupied.
Jack was staring at his hands in utter confusion, as if he didn’t know what these weird appendages were that happened to be attached to the ends of his arms or where they’d come from. What had just occurred had to be unsettling for him; his body had essentially refused to obey him. It was akin to going to the fridge for a soda, but every time you try to reach for it, your hand grabs the milk instead.
All of a sudden, Jack put his hands to his face, covering his eyes. It was an unexpected move on his part, and ostensibly, it gave the appearance that he was weeping. Somehow, though, I doubted that’s what was happening; in my opinion, my evil twin wasn’t the crying type, and in short order that was shown to be a correct assessment.
After a few moments, Jack removed his hands and I simply stared, not believing what I saw: his eyes were gone. The area where they had been was now featureless, unbroken skin.
At first I thought maybe he’d gouged his eyes out. (After all, he did reach into his own chest to pull out a toxic organ.) Then I realized that what he’d done was shapeshift in order to avoid seeing me since I was still sporting Gray’s face. It gave him the appearance of something out of a horror movie, but would presumably be effective in regard to the conditioning that prevented him from harming Gray.
As if to test that theory, Jack all at once went down to one knee and smacked a fist almost exactly in the spot where he had dropped me, causing tremors to once again shake the building. Seeing what Jack had just done, I almost felt like I was precognitive to some extent, and I sent up a small prayer of thanks that I’d had the presence of mind to move after he let me go.
Once the shaking subsided, I noticed that Jack was still down on one knee. His face was close to the rooftop, and he seemed to be taking slow, deep breaths – as if he couldn’t get enough air – although he only inhaled and exhaled through his nose. Without warning, he stood up and began to methodically turn his head from side to side while appearing to sniff the air at the same time, his actions putting me in mind of a human bloodhound.
Jack looked in my direction and grinned. (“Looked,” however, is probably a misnomer since he didn’t have any eyes. It’s more like he faced my direction and grinned.)
“You know, Jim, you really should have taken me up on that offer to help develop your powers,” he said. He sniffed the air again and – waving an outstretched arm in the air in front of him – took a ponderous step towards me.
“My latest pet project has been enhancing the senses,” Jack went on, sniffing the air as he spoke. “You know – sight, touch, taste, and all that.”
He took another stride in my direction.
“Of course, I’m not using the eyesight right now,” Jack admitted. “And the hearing’s not where I’d like it to be yet. But smell?”
Without preamble, he tilted his head back and drew in a long, exaggerated breath through his nostrils. He embellished the act by simultaneously stretching his arms out to the side. The overall effect was one of a person inhaling a heady ambrosia.
“My sense of smell,” he went on, “is beyond belief. For instance, I can smell y
our sweat…”
Hand out in front of him again, he put another foot forward. “The blood from the scrapes and bruises you’ve picked up on this rooftop…”
Jack took another step. “Your girlfriend’s perfume from your being next to her…”
He shuffled another foot in a beeline towards me. “The soap you showered with this morning…”
By this time, I was already crabwalking backwards as Jack advanced on me, reciting the long list of things he could smell on me thanks to his super-sniffer. Sadly, I hadn’t gone far before I found my retreat (which was what it was) blocked by the metal racking that held up the solar panels. Unable to go back any farther, I got to my feet as quietly as I could and then continued to fall back by moving parallel to the solar panels as quickly as humanly possible without making a sound.
Glancing back, I saw that Jack had reached the racking. He sniffed loudly, then turned his face in the direction I’d gone. (In the back of my mind, I realized that my comparison to a human bloodhound was a lot more accurate than I’d intended.)
Apparently not wanting to chase me across the roof indefinitely, Jack then did something completely unexpected. Reaching up, he grabbed the metal racking – and then pulled the whole thing down!
Chapter 91
The network of solar panels didn’t actually fall all at once. It was comprised of numerous interconnected sections, only one of which Jack had yanked down. However, that was enough to make the entire thing collapse. (It was easiest to imagine the solar sections like a line of trees in the forest that are tied together. Cut down the first tree, and as it falls it will pull down the next tree, which will pull down the next, and so on.)
As I watched the solar panels starting to topple, filling the air with metallic creaks and groans (as well as a shower of electrical sparks), my instinctive response had been to phase. Then, upon recalling that I no longer had that ability, I did the next best thing – I ran.
The goal, of course, was pretty simple: to get clear of the area likely to get smashed by the falling solar panels. I understood that, like a tree falling in the forest, the bottom part of the racking – the segment that was nearest the roof surface – would hit first; then, as it toppled over, the top portion would strike last. I had judged the height of the solar panel framework to be about forty feet. Thus, running from the side where the solar panels were located towards the center of the roof, I needed to clear a little less than fifteen yards in order to reach safety.