Hybrid

by Brian O'Grady

  “It’s either house nine or ten, that’s as precise as the techies can be,” he relayed to the agent on the scene. “Have him start there.” It had only taken two hours to transport Phil, Amanda, Greg, and an entire field support team to Clayton, New Mexico. Reisch was a hundred miles to the west, and everyone was hoping that he still had his claws retracted.

  “The roads are clear,” the agent briefed Phil. “There’s a thunderstorm about seventy miles from here, but it’s moving north at twenty miles an hour, I doubt you’ll even see it, but it left the roads wet. Drive fast, but get there safely. We think that he may be in one of these two houses, and on the move,” he gave Phil a map with two red circles. “If he is, then he has to drive north along this road before he reaches Highway 58. If we’re right about Dallas, he should turn east and come right at you.”

  Phil climbed into the unmarked police cruiser. Amanda opened the passenger door and sat down. “I thought you weren’t coming?” Phil asked, hoping that she had changed her mind. They both had very nearly mastered retracting their own claws, and he only felt anticipation in the air between them.

  “I’m not,” she said and his heart fell. “Don’t try and be a hero, Phil. We don’t want a confrontation; otherwise, I’d be going. Draw him out, and then get the hell out of there. Twenty, thirty miles should do it. He should pick you up before you sense him, so when you feel him, use this police interceptor engine and put some distance between the two of you.”

  “He’ll know it’s a trap,” Phil said. From the moment Amanda had suggested that they use Phil as bait, he saw the transparency of the plan. “You should just let me take care of him.” Phil had grown surprisingly confident in the force that was developing inside him. From a raw power standpoint, he was at least Amanda’s equal.

  “Thinking like that will get you killed, Phillip Rucker. This isn’t about power,” she said answering his thoughts. “This is about harnessing the force and directing it, and right now, he can do that far better than you can.” Her tone was stern, almost angry. “He will know it’s a trap, but it’s one he won’t be able to resist. It will offend him greatly that you were sent instead of me; he’ll want to send a message, and if you approach him full of naïve bravado, he will send that message.”

  Fully chastened, Phil nodded his head. “As soon as I can feel him, I’ll turn around. I sure hope I don’t run out of gas, or get a flat tire.” Phil tried to be funny.

  Reisch smiled when he first felt the tickle that could only be the mind of Phillip Rucker. “So you survived after all,” he said to himself. He glanced over his shoulder for his ethereal companion, but Pushkin hadn’t shown himself in days.

  They were still much too far apart for Klaus to read Phil, much less control him, but the very fact that he was here was a complication. He was driving in from the east, which meant that they had divined his plan; it probably also meant that Amanda was waiting for him to turn west.

  He leaned forward and looked at the thick cloud cover. He wasn’t an expert on satellite surveillance, but he was fairly certain that the Americans didn’t have cameras that could see through miles of clouds. They must have found the stolen Au di.

  “Damn,” he said to himself. He had meant to move it to the Theimes’, but old Elmer wasn’t much help, especially after he was dead. Klaus laughed. He wasn’t worried about the pathologist, or anyone who would have sent him. He could deal with all of them.

  “Aren’t you getting tired of having to adapt your plans because of these irritating Americans?” Pushkin asked.

  “I thought you had left for good.” Pushkin’s sudden and unexpected appearances usually irritated Reisch, but today he was glad to see the Russian.

  “Why do you suppose they would send him after you?”

  “It’s obviously a trap. I’m guessing that they want me to turn west into the lovely arms of Amanda Flynn, either that, or they have far too much faith in Dr. Rucker.”

  “It’s a little too obvious for my liking.” Pushkin was always the voice of doubt and restraint. Reisch had grown up respecting the man, but could never understand this character flaw.

  The rain had stopped and Klaus pushed the old pickup to its limit, which was just over the legal limit. He reached Highway 58 and had to make a decision, turn east, kill Rucker and face what waited behind him, or do what they wanted and turn west. He let the truck idle at the intersection and turned his mind west.

  “Ah, there you are Amanda.” She had shut down her mind, but this close, she could never fully hide from him. Twice they had shared a mind, and he would always be able to find her. “It’s not a bad plan,” he said to Pushkin. “Only one road for me to take, and they have both ends covered. It’s too bad I’m not going to play nice.” He turned the wheel and the truck to the east. With Amanda accounted for, Phil and the entire U.S. Army posed no real threat to him.

  “Make it fast; this pig of a truck couldn’t outrun a snake.” Reisch looked at Pushkin. “It’s a Russian expression.”

  “Snakes don’t run, they slither.”

  “It loses something in translation. Pay attention.”

  Rucker was about fifty miles away, but the distance was closing at a rate of two miles a minute. Amanda was almost as far away, and once he had turned away from her, she began to give chase and was slowly closing the distance. “She’s at least forty-five minutes behind me, and if she gets too close, I can always slow her down.”

  There was no sense trying to hide anymore, so Klaus unreeled his mind. Aside from his two friends, no one was within reach. No army laying in wait; no air force waiting to blow him apart with a smart missile; just the three of them. He focused on Phil, his most immediate threat. Rucker’s heart was racing almost as fast as his car, but his mind was frustratingly closed. He would need to close the distance before he could concentrate enough mental energy to break through Phil’s pathetic defenses. It really was offensive that they would send a neophyte to draw him out. Did anyone seriously believe that he would be threatened by Phillip Rucker? He was little more than a speed bump.

  “Maybe it’s a suicide mission?” Pushkin offered.

  “Could be, or maybe this is Amanda’s way of getting rid of Rucker. Given time, I could see him being a threat to her supremacy. I wish I had a little more time, I could use him.” Reisch began to calculate how much time he would need to convert Phil, and how fast Amanda was closing the distance. “Pity,” he said. Phil would have to die, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself.

  Phil could feel the German’s attempt to control him, but the separation made the efforts weak and he easily resisted them. It was time to turn back; he had done his job; Reisch had shown himself. But he still drove on. Reisch drew him on, not the German himself, but his very existence. A little closer and he could reach into Reisch’s mind and destroy it.

  A blood lust unlike anything he had ever felt overwhelmed reason. Power surged through him as he saw Reisch in his mind’s eye twisting in agony as his body was slowly torn apart. He could do it; all he needed was a few more minutes. Amanda would be proud.

  No, she wouldn’t, the long-lost small voice had returned. She will think that you were a fool for getting yourself killed and undoing their best opportunity to stop this madman.

  Phil tried to ignore the voice, but like the rest of him, it had grown as well. He slowed the cruiser and turned around.

  Now she’ll be proud, the small voice said.

  “Why?” Reisch asked himself and Pushkin.

  “Curious,” was his only answer.

  Phil had turned around and was racing away at twice Reisch’s speed. There was no way he could reach Phil now. “Cowardice? Second thoughts? A logical response to an overwhelming threat?” He reached back and found Amanda closing as fast as her car would go. It made no sense.

  “Turn around, I don’t like this at all,” cautious Pushkin said, a note of panic in his voice. Reisch slowed the truck and let it coast down the long straight road. Amanda’s car began t
o coast as well.

  “They expect me to turn around. She wants me to come to her.” Indecision crawled into Klaus’s mind. He could feel Amanda now; she was cool and confident, but still too far away to be a threat or an opportunity.

  Phil continued to drive, but the farther he got from Reisch the worse he felt. Amanda didn’t understand what he had become. It was true that he was new to this, and she had seven years of experience, but by her own admission, she wasn’t an expert. All she had to draw on were her own experiences, which were clearly different from his. His mind had been much more powerful than hers before their infections, and it was only reasonable that after their infections he would be stronger still. She treated him like a fool, and he resented it greatly. His foot slipped off the accelerator, and he began to seethe. He didn’t care if she was proud of him or not.

  Anger began to pulse inside him, and the car slowed to a stop. Reisch had stopped as well, and for the first time he picked up Amanda’s presence. She was west of Reisch and waiting for him to turn around. She wanted to kill him. It was all right for Phil to flush Reisch out, but not all right for him to kill the German. That pleasure belonged to Amanda. Resentment began to mix with anger, and he turned the cruiser around.

  “To hell with that,” he said and hit the accelerator. The car leapt forward as all four hundred and forty horses started streaking back towards Reisch. The blood lust returned, and he could feel its energy in every cell of his body. For the first time in his life, he began to giggle with enthusiasm. He was getting closer to Reisch, and he began to tingle all over, and even that felt wonderful. He was more alive than he had ever been. Sparks began to snap loudly in the dashboard and Phil laughed. The radio shorted out in a haze of blue smoke and before Phil could react the car lurched and died.

  Now all three of them had come to a stop. Reisch looked at a puzzled Pushkin. “It’s a trap,” Klaus said. “They want me to turn towards Amanda and Rucker will sneak up behind me.”

  “Kill Rucker and get the hell out of here.” Pushkin’s voice was decisive, but Reisch caught the undercurrent of fear.

  “I think you’re right. This is getting out of hand.” Reisch was losing control of the situation; the behavior of Amanda and Phil was strange and unpredictable. He scanned the area as he hit the gas, but there were still only the three of them.

  Amanda started to follow again, but maintained her distance, which only confused Reisch even more. They drove quietly for fifteen more minutes until Reisch reached the point where he could direct Phil. He reached for the pathologist, but all he grabbed was metaphysical air. Rucker had deflected him.

  “Turnabout is fair play,” Reisch said as Phil reached for him, and was repulsed.

  The two fenced back and forth; each effort becoming stronger as the distance between them dwindled. Amanda had chosen to be a spectator and maintained her distance.

  Maybe she does want me to rid her of Rucker, Klaus thought as he crested a small hill and finally saw him with his human eyes. He was sitting alone in an unmarked police car. Klaus put on the brakes of the pickup one hundred feet from the cruiser and stared at Phil. They had stopped their futile sparring and silently regarded each other.

  Reisch could feel the anger and conflicted emotions radiating from Phil. Maybe he did have time to turn him. Reisch got out of the truck and walked towards the police car. The air began to thicken and buzz. Rucker climbed out as well, confidence and fear enveloped him.

  “So you thought you could kill me,” Reisch taunted.

  “A speed bump?” Phil said with mock indignation. They both did their best at closing their minds to the other, but the proximity limited their success.

  Reisch felt the skin on the back of his neck begin to tingle, a reminder that Amanda was closing in on him. Facing both Amanda and a speed bump like Phil could prove to be challenging. “I’m going to give you a single opportunity to join me, but I’m afraid I’m going to need an answer immediately.” It wasn’t often that Klaus felt or acted mercifully.

  A laughably weak wave of mental energy was his answer.

  “They sent you to kill me, and that’s the best you can do?” Klaus laughed. Phil backed away as the German began to advance. “Go ahead, run; it will make this so much sweeter.”

  Phil walked backwards down the road trying to keep his distance from Reisch.

  “Do you think you can entertain me until Amanda gets here? You see, Phil, you have to concentrate your power if you want to hurt someone. Let me show you.” Reisch blasted Phil off his feet. He landed in a clump of sage weeds twenty feet from where he was standing. His left arm had crumpled beneath him and snapped on impact.

  Phil’s pain filled Klaus’s mind, and he began to wonder if he could wait for Amanda. “You know a couple of weeks ago, I would have been satisfied in just driving you insane, but I think your arrogance needs to be punished.” Reisch tried to surround Phil’s mind, but he resisted. “So you do have some talent,” a straining Reisch said.

  Slowly Phil began to push the German out of his mind. “I’m stronger than you, Klaus,” Phil said, panting into the weeds as the two took a break from their mental wrestling match.

  “I suppose I’ll just have to kill you then, “Reisch said, disappointed his fun had to end so soon. He compressed the air around him and sent a shock wave moving faster than the speed of sound at the prostrate Rucker.

  Once again, Phil was lifted off his feet and thrown high into the air; he struck the barbed-wire border fence and slumped into the dirt, his broken left arm impaled on a post.

  “Still with me, Phil?” Reisch walked to the top of the embankment and stared down at Phil. He was conscious, but all his mental resistance had crumbled. The tingling in Reisch’s skin began to take on a burning quality, so he stepped away from Phil, but not so far that he couldn’t watch the pathologist die.

  “Still here,” Rucker whispered. “She’s coming for you, do you know that?”

  “I’ll be long gone, and you’ll be long dead by the time she gets here.” Reisch turned to his left in response to something unseen. “That’s plenty of time,” he said to the air.

  Phil looked at Reisch with confusion written across his bloodied face.

  “Before you die, can I ask if you can see my friend here?” Reisch turned and pointed at empty space. His expression changed to surprise an instant before his head exploded.

  Phil blinked several times; his brain not processing what had just happened. For more than a minute he stared at the German’s mutilated corpse, waiting for it to reassemble itself, and then heard approaching footsteps.

  “You forgot your pouch,” Amanda Flynn said, dropping a small black bag at the feet of what was once Klaus Reisch.

  Phil stared speechless at Amanda, a faint glow of light framing her.

  “I told you not to try and be a hero. I should just let you hang there awhile.”

  It was the second time he had ever been in a helicopter, and once again, he couldn’t speak properly. His arm, along with a piece of fence post, was wrapped in a large bandage. Several of his ribs were broken, and by the way he was breathing, he was fairly certain that his left lung had been punctured. There was no doubt that he had also sustained internal organ damage, but on the whole, felt reasonably good with morphine circulating in his veins. Amanda sat next to him as the rotors began to turn. “How?” he whispered, but it was lost in the whine of the turbines.

  She looked down at him, earphones tucked inside a ski cap. “Don’t try to speak,” she yelled.

  Phil looked back up at her and the helicopter lifted off. He thought that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. An hour ago I hated you, he thought.

  You didn’t really hate me then, and you’re not really in love with me now, she thought in return. Can you sleep?

  No, I want to know what happened back there.

  You didn’t listen to me and nearly got yourself killed.

  I know that part, where did you come from. You were fifty miles
away, how did get to me?

  My Jeep was fifty miles away; I was only a few miles away, and if you had done what I asked, you would have driven right past me. Phil suddenly saw through Amanda’s eyes as she sat alone in the dark desert, waiting first for him and then for Reisch. Frustration, concern, and anger filling her mind as he turned the police cruiser around and closed on Reisch. I al- most didn’t make it. If you hadn’t shorted out your engine you’d be dead now.

  God watches out for fools and idiots, he thought, trying to fight the narcotic fog. What did you do to him? The memory of Reisch’s head exploding replayed in Phil’s mind.

  Very dramatic, she said, sharing the memory.

  Phil was suddenly Amanda again and they were running up a dark and wet highway. From the top of a small hill, he watched as his body flipped through the air crashing into the fence, and then the memory froze and dissipated. Hey, we were just getting to the interesting part.

  You don’t see the rest until you’re ready, Phil.

  Emil St. Clair closed the first edition volume of Dickinson and waited for the intruder to come into the light. “I guess I won’t be finishing this tonight,” he said as the man dressed in black stepped between him and the fireplace.

  “You failed, Monsieur St. Clair. More than that, you were exposed.” The accent was European, but the language was English.

  “Yes, I agree with you on both accounts. Did you find the vials?”

  “I have them. Perhaps you should have hidden them a little better.”

  “I doubt that it would have made any difference. Still, I have appreciated the extra time.”

  “We are not barbarian, just businessmen, ” the dark man said and fired two silenced rounds.

  “So they just dropped him on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial with the name David Moncrief pinned to his jacket?” the president asked Kyle Stanley.