Impact (Book 1): Regenesis

by Harrison Pierce

  Audrey beamed and asked him how he figured out how to control everything. She asked him how the whole process felt, whether he worried about the fire, if he needed direct contact with the fuel source in order to form the fire, and she asked if he could stop the fires as well. Audrey continued to rattle off questions and Jason answered her as best he could for hours.

  ---*---

  3:41 PM

  Lynnwood, Washington

  Nick sat at the edge of his bed and ran what Mizuno told their group through his head. He tried to memorize everything, even though his part in their operation was miles away and wouldn’t involve more than delaying a family of three. Mizuno never specifically told him what he needed to do to impede his targets, but he assumed that Mizuno would either tell him straightforward the exact steps needed to be effective, or he would leave Nick to figure it out on his own, and Nick assumed it would be the latter option.

  His home was quiet, as usual, with only the faint mumblings of whatever program Paul watched in their living room. Nick hadn’t said two words to his stepfather or to his local friends since he’d returned to the state. Drake tried to call him once but Nick ignored it. He didn’t know what to say and he didn’t want to lie, but Drake and the others would only try to sway him if they knew he was wrapped up in a group, an organization, such as Impact. Nick wasn’t certain he fully comprehended what it was or what it could be, yet he knew Mizuno was the only person who could help him achieve his goals. Beyond that, Nick had no intention of remaining a member.

  Amy called and asked to see him and they planned a date that afternoon, which Nick felt apprehensive about. He felt nauseated thinking about what they would talk about, the inevitable questions she would challenge him with, and how he could and would lie to her without completely unraveling everything Mizuno taught him and expected of him. Nick was torn.

  A rustling came from the kitchen and Nick assumed his stepfather hunted for lunch. Nick hadn’t eaten at all and suddenly realized it as his stomach churned. He wearily brought himself to stand and left to join Paul. The old man hardly noticed him enter and didn’t say a word at first. Nick opened their fridge and saw how bare it was, aside from the alcohol. Nick shut the door and walked to a cupboard to retrieve an unopened sleeve of white square crackers and a jar of creamy peanut butter. After he selected a knife from the silverware drawer, Nick tried to slip out without a word to Paul, though he stopped Nick.

  “Where the hell were you for a week?” he asked.

  Nick didn’t make eye contact. “I-I was out w-working.”

  “You got a job?”

  Nick nodded.

  Paul showed mild astonishment and continued, “They have you working nights?”

  Nick shook his head, “I only work late,” he started. “I-I came home every n-night, b-but you were always asleep.”

  Paul shrugged and with another three beers in hand, headed back to his lounge chair in the other room. Nick left without hesitation.

  When Nick returned to his bedroom, he found Strom sitting on Nick’s bed with a book open. He didn’t look up at Nick when he entered.

  “Is that really what you’re having for lunch kid?”

  Nick didn’t answer him. He opened the sleeve and quietly munched on a few crackers while he took his seat. Nick offered Strom some but he only chuckled at the gesture.

  “Why don’t I take you to get something more substantial?”

  Nick frowned, “Why would you do that?”

  Strom told him he didn’t like to see a child starve, but the humor of his quip seemed lost on Nick. “But seriously, why don’t you just leave and get a bite somewhere else?”

  “We’re not exactly…” he paused and decided to select more accurate words, “We’re poor, so eating out is a luxury. And I have a date with Amy tonight, so I, I need to make sure I have enough to pay for her and myself…”

  Strom dog-eared the page he left off of and set the book aside. “How much do you need? Hell, how much do you want?”

  Nick blinked. “I don’t need charity–”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit,” Strom cut him off. “You are literally starving Nick and you aren’t going to take charity from me because you’re too proud or something?” Strom opened his wallet and removed six-hundred American dollars in large bills, took Nick’s hand, and forced him to take the money. “Let me do something kind for once, alright? I want to help you, not because I pity you or look down on you, but because you are the closest thing I have to a friend and I am not about to let your drunkard of a father-figure drink away all of your family’s income. So either you take this, gratefully or not, or I buy six-hundred dollars worth of food and place it in your kitchen myself and you can explain who I am to you stepfather.”

  The young man nodded and thanked Strom while he put the money away. He continued to eat the crackers for a moment before he asked why Strom was at his house.

  “I wanted to check in on you, for starters,” he admitted, “But I also wanted to ask you what you know about the guy who killed your brother.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to help you.”

  “But why do you want to help me Strom?” Nick asked. “I don’t understand.”

  Strom glanced away from Nick and told him it was simple, “I like you Nick, and I want to help because something bad happened to you and I want to bring whoever wronged you and yours to justice.” He rubbed his eyes, swore under his breath in German, and continued, “Nick, I don’t need a reason to help you. And like I said, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, so I want to help.”

  Nick thanked him again but admitted that he didn’t know much. “Apparently he looked a lot, well, exactly like I do.”

  “So he was a doppelganger?”

  Nick told him he didn’t know what he meant.

  “It doesn’t matter…” Strom sighed and told Nick he would talk to Mizuno about the murder. “I’d better be leaving now anyway. But seriously Nick, don’t let your stepdad have a cent of that, okay?”

  He agreed and watched as Strom left through Nick’s window. Nick removed the money from his pocket and stared at it, as it was one of the largest sums of cash he’d ever had in his possession at one time.

  ---*---

  7:50 PM

  Kenmore, Washington

  Jessica sat in her bedroom engaged in a conversation about the uprising heroes throughout the world. It was the only thing she and her tight knit associates through REFOIA seemed capable of talking about since they were all granted access to the enigmatic video of Nick and the assassin Ghost in the Las Vegas desert. He still worried her, even though they weren’t the best of friends. They actually only talked when school was involved or on the rare occasion that he needed her help with something. Things simply weren’t the same since Victor died, which worried her.

  balt_raven00: u heard about the 2 newest idiots n london, right?

  mhanzo40: Yes.

  kirasho52: of course

  jess_VII: Just this morning, but yeah.

  balt_raven00: well I found 2 more

  mhanzo40: Really?

  kirasho52: who? where?

  balt_raven00: first’s n san diego

  jess_VII: You mean Law?

  balt_raven00: yeah, u kno?

  jess_VII: I told you who he was.

  balt_raven00: oh

  kirasho52: who is he?

  jess_VII: Real name’s Jericho Law. He has heightened senses and strength and I guess is partially invulnerable.

  mhanzo40: Partially?

  jess_VII: I’ll send you all video…

  jess_VII: One sec…

  jess_VII: He takes crowbar to head, leg and groin and looks like it doesn’t hurt.

  mhanzo40: Thanks again. (@jess_VII)

  kirasho52: how is he part. invulnerable?

  jess_VII: He cuts his fist when he punched through window, watch video.

  Jessica took a quick look at the video and watched as Jericho Law, a hero without
a mask or costume, took on four men at once in a brawl in a parking lot. He didn’t seem fazed by any of their blows, even when one guy slammed a crowbar into his groin. What perplexed their group was a part of the fight where Law missed his opponent and punched through a car window and actually bled from it (though he continued to fight as if it was nothing at all).

  kirasho52: weird

  mhanzo40: Who’s the other one? (@balt_raven00)

  balt_raven00: In tokyo, called Hanzo, ha ha.

  mhanzo40: Seriously?

  balt_raven00: yeah

  kirasho52: cool, what’s he like?

  balt_raven00: there’s one vid, I’ll send u

  The next video was much different than the first, as the hero in question wore a suit of armor, carried a katana with him (tied securely to his waist), wore his long jet black hair tied back behind him, and fought off over a dozen armed men. Hanzo seemed calm, or rather, if he had any doubt or fear at all, he failed to manifest it. Bullets whizzed past him but his fluid and controlled movements prevented him from even receiving a single graze or knick from any of the projectiles.

  He retrieved a few throwing stars from a small satchel fastened at his waist and threw them in the general direction of his enemies. Jessica believed he’d missed at the start and some did only embed themselves into the rooftop where they fought, but others suddenly arched in various ways and attacked Hanzo’s enemies. The ones left on the ground prevented his enemies from actually reaching him, which Jessica believed aided him, though she wasn’t sure as the video ended prematurely.

  kirasho52: whoa

  mhanzo40: I like him, he’s interesting.

  jess_VII: how many people is he fighting?

  balt_raven00: 14

  mhanzo40: Fifteen, actually.

  balt_raven00: srry, frgot ur always right

  balt_raven00: *sarcasm*

  mhanzo40: Well I can count, so I am right.

  mhanzo40: *fact*

  kirasho52: hahaha

  kirasho52: so what is he?

  balt_raven00: A ninja

  kirasho52: yeah right

  balt_raven00: Yeah, heightened senses. He dodged those bullets like a pro would.

  mhanzo40: And it seemed as if he could manipulate where his shuriken flew, as some looped back after they missed their targets.

  balt_raven00: yeah.

  jess_VII: A living ninja…

  kirasho52: Ninjitsu is still practiced

  jess_VII: Oh…

  mhanzo40: A ninja in the sense of the fantasized take on ninjas would seem more accurate…though I would still hesitate to even label him in that manner.

  jess_VII: Does anyone know what our count is?

  balt_raven00: over 100

  mhanzo40: One-hundred forty-three allegedly, thirty-four which are confirmed.

  kirasho52: that’s still pretty good

  balt_raven00: k

  balt_raven00: so who’s everyone’s fave?

  balt_raven00: mines law

  kirasho52: *sigh*

  kirasho52: Hanzo

  kirasho52: so far

  mhanzo40: Human Titan.

  mhanzo40: I admire someone of that brash stupidity.

  kirasho52: lol

  mhanzo40: Does Ghost count?

  balt_raven00: how can u like him?

  mhanzo40: I never said that I did; answer the question.

  kirasho52: does he have n e powers?

  mhanzo40: None that I can tell…

  kirasho52: then no, I guess…

  balt_raven00: whos ur fave? (@jess_VII)

  jess_VII: You all rem. that video of Ghost in Vegas?

  kirasho52: yeah

  mhanzo40: Yes, why?

  jess_VII: I think I know who that other kid is.

  mhanzo40: How do you know?

  kirasho52: who is it?

  jess_VII: Just a friend of mine.

  balt_raven00: ask him

  mhanzo40: What? Just walk up and ask ‘do you hang out with the assassins?’

  balt_raven00: ha ha.

  kirasho52: do u see him a lot?

  jess_VII: no

  kirasho52: oh

  mhanzo40: Just wait. It’s not like it’s important right now.

  jess_VII: You’re right.

  jess_VII: gtg

  [jess_VII has left chat]

  ---*---

  8:00 PM.

  Kenmore, Washington

  Nick and Amy spent the afternoon talking in the small coffee shop Nick agreed to meet her at. He arrived at four and they hardly had a break in conversation since then. He’d hardly touched his drink and neither had she, but neither of them noticed. Amy wore Nick’s jacket and couldn’t keep herself from examining the change in him. Nick’s hair was longer and groomed and without his jacket she noticed his muscle tone. She hadn’t said anything about it to him though.

  “So your friend Teresa tripped into a pool?” Nick asked her.

  Amy laughed and shook her head, “No, it was more like a coin fountain, but it was still hilarious.”

  “She wasn’t hurt or anything, was she?”

  “Of course not. But she did ruin her only formal gown, so she’s going out to get another before homecoming,” she told him. “I think it might be a bit presumptuous though, considering she hasn’t even been asked by anyone yet.”

  Nick felt a shock run through him, as she obviously brought it up with the intent of letting him know that she wanted to go. He wasn’t one for formal gatherings, and even more so opposed and uncomfortable with the thought of dancing, at all. Even at the party they went to weeks earlier, they hardly danced at all, even on the slow songs.

  He doubted he’d be so lucky at the next event. Nick felt his pulse quicken and his hands shake, but he asked anyway, “D-Did you want to go?”

  She smiled sweetly and said she thought he’d never ask. “It’s in a few weeks, so, if you don’t mind I’d love to go.”

  He put on the best grin he could and told her he’d be happy to take her.

  Amy thanked him and asked, “So what are you doing tomorrow?”

  Nick only shrugged. “I don’t know. My work’s kind of touch-and-go.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why? Did you want t-to do something?”

  “Yeah, but if you’re busy, we could just hang out later.”

  “I’d love to hang out tomorrow,” he told her, “Just give me a second and I’ll call my…” he searched for the title, “Employer, I guess, and I’ll ask what time he needs me and we can hang out afterwards.”

  “Okay.”

  Nick grabbed his phone and dialed a commercial number. After it connected, he quickly dialed the numbers four, six, seven, two, two, and eight. From there it connected to another line where he entered six, four, nine, eight, six, and six before it called Mizuno who answered, “Nick.”

  “Hey, I was wondering–”

  Mizuno stopped him and told him to take Amy home. “I need you to get back to your house as fast as you can.”

  “Okay, what’s this about?”

  “I’d rather not say over the phone. Just get over here.”

  Nick agreed, but before he hung up he asked how Mizuno knew he was with Amy. Mizuno only hung up once the question was asked though.

  Nick put his phone away and apologized to Amy, “I need to get going, I guess there’s something going on.”

  “Okay. Um, what about tomorrow?” she asked.

  “I’ll call you in the morning, if that’s okay.” She said it was fine. “D-Did…Did you need a ride?”

  “No, you said you needed to get going.”

  He shook his head, “No, I can swing by your place on my way anyway.” She thanked him and accepted the ride back.

  They left the shop, he gave her his jacket and helmet as he always did, mounted the bike, Amy took her seat behind him, and they left.

  Nick didn’t know what Mizuno wanted (or that Mizuno even knew where he lived, but Nick guessed he learned that as soon as they met). The urgency
and promptness of Mizuno’s alert worried Nick, especially since he wanted him to rendezvous at his home, which wasn’t the best environment for a meeting whatsoever.

  Nick and Amy quickly arrived at her home. She returned his helmet and started to unzip his coat but he stopped her.

  “Wh-Why don’t you hang on to it?”

  She smiled and thanked him. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Nick watched her walk inside before he left.

  -- -- --

  Nick soon arrived at his house, noticed a black car out front (which he assumed was Mizuno’s), parked his motorcycle in his garage, and hurried inside.

  “We’re in here Nick,” Mizuno called out as soon as he had the door open.

  Nick slowly closed the door and walked into the living room. He found Mizuno seated in a chair Nick knew usually housed Paul’s empty bottles, though the containers were simply stacked next to Paul’s chair and the seat Mizuno took was moved away from Paul.

  Paul didn’t look happy about entertaining one of Nick’s guests at all.

  Nick would have been embarrassed by the sorry state of his home, but since he knew Mizuno already knew how bad it was going in, he didn’t feel ashamed. It was a mess though, considering Paul hadn’t emptied his ashtray in days, bottle caps and chips lay scattered across the floor, along with dirty socks, plates, cups, glasses, wrappers, and all sorts of other trash.

  Mizuno seemed unaffected by it though.

  Paul looked up at Nick and asked, “You mind tellin’ me why your boss is here?”

  “Oh, we just need to chat briefly,” the guest answered him.

  “Well do it somewhere else,” he spat.

  Mizuno let out a breath and stood up. “You’ve misinterpreted what I mean Paul.” He walked over to stand between the man and his television while he adjusted his gloves. “We need to talk.” Mizuno then swiftly kicked Paul in the chest and caused him and his lounge chair to flip over.