by C. S. Won
“Who isn’t?”
“Ever since I woke up from my coma six months ago, nothing has made any sense. So much has changed in such a short period of time, and no one has stepped forward to offer an explanation as to why. We still don’t know why the storm appeared, or how people like me received their powers. It’s like the world has been steeped in a deep fog, and everyone has been walking around in a haze since then.” Jae pushed his coffee away. “My fiancée died because some madman who was blessed by that storm took her life, and every day I can’t help but wonder if it had to be that way. Not a moment goes by where I don’t ask myself: would she still be alive if there was no storm? Would she still be alive if this maniac and I never received our powers? I lost someone near and dear to me because of that storm and all I want to know right now is why? I want to know how exactly I got my powers, I want to know why I got my powers, and I want to know who or what started this whole damn thing.”
Mary appeared from the kitchen with her hands occupied with food plates. She made her way towards Clay and his son and dropped off their meals.
“Here we go. Eggs and toast for you, and waffles for the boy,” she said.
“Thank you,” Clay said.
“Need anything else, hon?”
“Just the coffee and orange juice.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sorry about that. I’ll be right out.” She left the three of them to their business, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Clay sprinkled some salt over his eggs. “What if I told you that I can help you find the answers that you’re looking for, or at least a part of it?”
Jae peered over at him. “Come again?”
“But I’ll need something in return.”
“What are you talking about?”
Clay stared at him, his eyes focused. “I know your brother.”
Jae wasn’t sure he heard correctly and leaned in closer. “Excuse me?”
“Han Yeon. Your brother. I know him.”
Jae studied him. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“He’s ten years older than you are. He went to Emory University to study languages. He left to work for the government shortly after your mother was killed by a fire. His favorite sport is baseball. He’s fairly thin, and—”
“Who are you?”
“He told me to find you. I need your help.”
Clay was a stranger, a complete unknown, a man Jae didn’t even know existed until today, a man he had exchanged names with only a few minutes prior—and now he was claiming he knew who Han was, and enough to know that he was Jae’s brother.
“He said you can protect me,” Clay went on.
“He said what?” Jae said.
“I know all of this is a little strange and sudden but believe me when I say I know your brother, Mr. Yeon. I can help you with what you want to know, but I need your protection. Your brother assured me you would help.”
“Who are you?” Jae asked again. He stood from his seat, pushing his stool screeching across the floor. The few diners left in the restaurant turned to look at them. Clay’s son inched away from his seat, his eyes going wide.
Mary emerged from the kitchen with coffee and orange juice in hand. “Jae, honey, is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean to make a scene,” Jae said, not taking his eyes off Clay.
“Is that man bothering you? Should I call the police?”
“That won’t be necessary. I have this taken care of.”
Mary stood at the entrance to the kitchen, hands gripped tight around the drinks.
“Who are you?” Jae asked one more time.
Clay raised his hands slowly, to show that he was no threat. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “That truth I was looking for? Your brother was helping me find it. He supplied me with classified information. We were working together to expose a conspiracy.”
“A conspiracy? What kind of conspiracy?”
“The kind that can make you disappear if you’re not careful.”
“What are you, some kind of spy? I thought you said you worked for a small-time, no-name newspaper?”
“I did work for a small newspaper, and that’s precisely why your brother wanted to work with me. He didn’t trust anyone working for any of the major media outlets. He thought they were all bought and paid for. He needed someone with a smaller profile, someone who hadn’t been noticed and enriched by specific parties yet. That’s why he sought me out, because I was small-time, and he figured he could disseminate information to me without drawing attention.”
“And you agreed to work with him, even though you had no idea who my brother was?”
“Believe me, when he first approached me, I thought he was a lunatic. The things that he told me, my goodness it’d make your head spin. But once he showed me proof of his allegations, I realized how big this was. This was information that could move the very Earth, something that could change the entire course of human history as we know it. This was the truth I was seeking, and it was something I was more than willing to put my ass on the line for.”
“What truth was this?”
Clay drew himself in closer. “Crimes against humanity. The government is waist-deep in activity they shouldn’t be involved with—amoral, reprehensible shit. And I’m not talking about things people already know about, like illegal wars for oil. I’m talking about human experimentation, the sort that’ll leave you horribly disfigured or maimed, or if you’re lucky, dead. Your brother, having seen his fair share of horrors, had enough, and decided he needed to blow the whistle. That’s where I came in, serving as eventual mouthpiece for the outside world.” He put his hands down. “And things were going smoothly for a little while, until we soon found ourselves in some pretty deep shit. Long story short, I had to go on the run with my son, and before we left the last thing your brother told me was to find you for protection. This was roughly six months ago.”
“One minute we’re introducing ourselves and making small talk about the weather, then the next you’re suddenly telling me you’re a confidant of my brother, who I haven’t seen or spoken to in years, and that he sent you to me for my protection?” Jae clenched his fists. “Is this a joke? Did Gabe send you?”
“I know it’s hard to believe. Honestly, I wouldn’t believe it myself either if I were in your shoes, but the fact of the matter is, is that everything I’ve said is true. How else could I know who your brother is and what he does? Why else would I even come to you with this information?”
“Dad.” Marlowe tugged at his father’s shirt.
“Marlowe, not now,” Clay said.
“He’s close.”
Clay turned to look at him. “He found us?” He suddenly looked frightened.
“He?” Jae asked. “Who’s he? What’s going on? Who found you?”
“He’s not entirely sure where we are, but he’s close and he’s looking, and he knows we’re somewhere in the area.” Marlowe ran over to the entrance and opened it, sticking his face into the open space. He shut the door and came back to this father. “It’s definitely him.”
“What the hell is going on?” Jae asked.
“There’s someone after us, Mr. Yeon, sent by those who want us to disappear. We’ve been on the run for months, and we’re tired of running. Sleeping inside dingy motels, or on the side of the road inside our car, constantly looking over our shoulders—we can’t do it anymore. We need your help. Please,” Clay said.
“How does your son know where this guy is?”
“I can explain everything later, but please, Mr. Yeon, will you protect us? In exchange, I will tell you everything I know.”
Jae could see the desperation in Clay’s eyes. This was no joke. Even his son was on edge, nervously rubbing his arms and hands, and constantly throwing glances at the door.
Insanity. Utter insanity.
Jae opened his wallet and threw down a few bills on the counter. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Three
&nbs
p; Jae hustled Clay and his son into his home and shut the door behind him. Marlowe went over to the nearest window, lifted a corner of the curtain, and peered outside.
“You have some explaining to do,” Jae said.
Clay took his coat off and pointed at the sofa. “May I?”
Jae nodded. Clay took his seat, draped the coat across his lap, then sat in silence, looking at his son.
“What is he doing?” Jae asked.
“He’s acting as lookout,” Clay said. “To see if he’s still following.”
“Lookout?”
“My son . . .” Clay nodded at Marlowe. “As you’ve probably guessed by now, is a neo-human. All of his senses were heightened to an enormous degree—touch, taste, smell, sight, and hearing. Even his sense of danger was amplified.”
“Your home has a nice smell,” Marlowe said, looking at Jae. “Mint and lavender, right?”
Those were Madeline’s favorite scents.
Marlowe closed his eyes. “It’s coming from the attic, through a small, enclosed space. It’s faint, but it’s definitely there. I really like it.”
When Jae moved into his new home, he brought a few of Madeline’s belongings as mementos, small items like jewelry and trinkets that had survived the house fire and stored them in a lockbox in his attic. Did these keepsakes retain a vestige of her scent?
“A neo-human,” Jae said, to no one in particular.
“His sense of smell far exceeds any dog I know. His vision is more acute than any eagle. His hearing is better than that of a bat,” Clay said. “He can sense anything within a one-mile radius, and within that one-mile radius, he can familiarize himself with just about every single detail of that environment. He’s like the Eye of Sauron, where little escapes his gaze. From there, he can make an accurate judgement as to whether a person is a threat, based solely on body temperature, heart and pulse rate, speech, and even smell.” Clay smiled, looking proud of his son. “He’s familiarized himself with the scent of our pursuer—or the stalker, as Marlowe likes to call him—and knows instantly when he steps within that one-mile radius. Because of that, it allows us time to leave before the stalker can even find us.”
The stalker. Such an ominous nickname.
“What happens if this stalker finds you?”
“I’ve had the good fortune to not know that answer, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say it wouldn’t be good. Thankfully, my son is really good at picking him up, so he hasn’t gotten too close yet.”
“What if he does get too close?”
“Then I’ll simply do this.”
Clay began to shimmer away, like that of a reflection in a rippling body of water, vanishing until nothing was left but his compressed imprint on the leather upholstery of the couch. Just like that, Clay was cleansed from this existence, nowhere to be seen. Marlowe, who didn’t seem surprised by his father’s vanishing, was already looking back out the window, resuming his duty.
“Clay?” Jae called out.
“I’m right here.”
Jae whirled around but saw no one. “Where?”
“In the same spot.” Clay took form again, flickering back into reality, a transparent, ghostly figure taking shape before finally solidifying into something substantial and whole. He was sitting just as he was before, in the same position and posture.
“What did you—”
“The power I gained from the storm last year was invisibility. I can vanish without a trace.” He motioned for Marlowe to come over. “I can also turn other people invisible too, as long as I touch a part of their body.” Marlowe came and stood next to his father. Clay took Marlowe’s wrist and they both disappeared. “Pretty neat, huh?”
Jae was speechless. Clay and his son shimmered back into corporeal form. Marlowe went back to the window, continuing his lookout. Jae took a seat in a chair adjacent to Clay and buried a hand into his hair. “You’re a neo-human too?”
“Sorry, I should have told you from the very beginning, but I didn’t know how to broach the subject. Plus, I didn’t think it was a good idea to openly advertise what I was, considering the current public sentiment surrounding neo-humans.”
A father and son neo-human. What were the odds? Were they the only ones like that, or were there others like them?
“It’s a mighty useful talent, I must say. It made my job as a reporter a lot more interesting, that’s for sure,” Clay said.
“Tell me more about this stalker that’s after you,” Jae said.
Clay exhaled. “Ruthless. Relentless. Uncompromising.”
“What does he look like?”
“Marlowe describes him as a bald, white male. Tall, and kind of skinny.”
“That doesn’t really help much. There are a lot of bald white men out there.”
“Not like this guy. What’s especially concerning is that this stalker will pop in and out of my son’s periphery at random times.”
“What do you mean?”
“Imagine that my son’s radar is like a large, enclosed circle around him, and that the only way to enter inside that circle is from the outside, like through a gate or something. The only two ways that I can think of that can circumvent that is if someone parachuted from above or dug in from underground. Extraordinary circumstances basically, which means it should be impossible for anyone to suddenly appear within the margins of that circle unless they walk through that gate, right? Well, for our stalker, that’s exactly what he does, each and every time. He’ll somehow suddenly appear within that circle and not through the outer edges of it, and we’re at a loss as to how he keeps doing it.”
“That sounds like neo-human behavior.”
“We can’t rule it out.”
“Who sent him?”
“Certain parties within the government are probably behind this, if I had to take a guess. The information your brother gave me is pretty damaging.”
“Damaging enough that they would actually send someone after you?”
“Is that so surprising? Assassins come in all forms. Some carry a federal badge.”
“But to harm an American citizen on US soil?”
“The US government isn’t some virtuous institution. They’ve gotten their hands dirty before, and they’ll happily do so again if need be.” Clay pointed at his coat. “It’s why my son and I wear this, even in the heat of the summer. It’s lined with Kevlar. Probably won’t do much against a sniper bullet, but it gives me peace of mind.” He rummaged through his coat and took out a gun, compact and dark as oil. “And if need be, I also have this. A little extra insurance.”
Jae shook his head. “Government assassins. A kid who can smell and see and hear everything. A real-life invisible man. The whole world has gone crazy.”
Clay tucked his gun back into his coat. “When was it never crazy?”
“What sort of information did my brother give you?”
Clay reached into his coat again and pulled out a folder. “It doesn’t paint a complete picture, but it should give you an idea of what’s been going on for the past year or so.” He dropped the folder on the coffee table between them and pushed it towards Jae. He took the folder but didn’t open it.
“Why isn’t my brother here with you?” Jae asked.
Clay hesitated. “That . . . is complicated.”
“What do you mean? Is he safe?”
“I believe he is.”
“You believe he is?”
“Before the storm’s arrival, your brother and I had an open line of communication. He would reach out to me, or I would reach out to him, then we would meet, and he would drip-feed me bits and pieces of information if he had any to provide. That was our arrangement. But after I had woken up from my half-year coma, I found that our line of communication was severed. I couldn’t reach out to him anymore, and he never reached out to me. Your brother had gone dark, and I wasn’t sure if he had done so voluntarily, or if someone had done it for him. And since I was out for six months, I had no idea what had happened t
o him.”
“But you told me that my brother asked you to seek me out. If you hadn’t seen or heard from him after the coma, how was that even possible?”
“Your brother did tell me to find you, but that was before the storm occurred. I just never paid any heed to his warning because I thought he was just being paranoid. That was an error on my part, because I learned the hard way that his paranoia had teeth—very sharp teeth.”
“The stalker,” Jae guessed.
Clay nodded. “I was driving home one night with my son, and as I pulled up into our subdivision, Marlowe noticed a strange presence in our home, along with the bloody stench of our dog’s fresh corpse. I knew right away what something like that meant, so I quickly hightailed it out of there. We hid out in some hotel until I could figure out what to do, and it wasn’t until a couple of days after that incident that an associate of your brother had suddenly reached out to me and reiterated the protection you could provide. It was a proposition that I gladly accepted this time.”
“An associate of my brother?”
“More of a good friend, really. Han wasn’t with him when we last met, but he assured me that your brother was safe, although he admitted that they were in a bit of a bind themselves. He promised me that once things settled down, they’d reach out to me, but again, that was nearly six months ago, and I haven’t heard from them since.”
“That’s not a good sign.”
“I prefer to be optimistic and say they’re just lying low.”
“Why did it take you so long to seek me out if you were told to find me six months ago?”
“Because I was having second thoughts about inviting you into our danger, especially when you had nothing to do with this. Plus, I figured with Marlowe’s powers and my own, we could evade the stalker for an indefinite period of time. But . . .” Clay looked at his son. “The chase was starting to take its toll, and I realized that I couldn’t do this on my own anymore. I had no choice but to finally ask you for your help.”
Jae looked at the folder in his hands. What had Han gotten himself into? If what Clay said was true, then Han had essentially committed treason. He stole classified information and turned it over to a third-party recipient, and apparently the information was so damaging that the government was willing to commit murder over it. And now, almost as if this turn of events was woven by the hands of fate itself, it was up to Jae to guard and protect. What sort of information did this folder contain? What was in there that compelled his brother to rebel?
