by Dave Nesbit
Walking over, I did my best to try to sound like I was somehow still in the game so to speak. “Come on, let's go home, nothing left to do here.”
Rachel nodded, then Ramon, then Shawn.
I walked over to Hamilton and said. “Got a ride for us?”
“We got it sorted out, might need to make a stop on the way.”
“Where at?”
“This is a time when a smart guy does not ask questions.”
Chapter 42
We did make a stop on the way home. Watson and Hamilton stopped at a liquor store and came out with a few bags worth of stuff. From there we had a long quiet car ride back to the school.
If anything the press and protester presence at the front of the school was triple its size. Part of me wanted to get out and deck every last one of them, but the smart part of my brain gave it a second thought when I realized it would help nothing and simply make things worse.
Rachel was looking them over as well, and I could see the look in her eyes. Then saw her turn her head away, she was headstrong but she also wasn't stupid.
The van pulled up to our house, and we exited quietly. To my surprise, Watson and Hamilton followed us in with the bags of stuff they had purchased. They sat it on the table and Watson gave us a very serious look. “Now I, of course, have no idea how this contraband got into this house, but seeing as how you, Mister Larkin, come from an Irish family; I am reasonably certain that you can think of a way to dispose of it.”
“Understood sir.”
“Try not to break anything too costly tonight.” Hamilton said and they made their exit.
I reached into the bags and pulled out a bottle of Coke and a huge bottle of Ron Rico Rum. Rachel reached in and found a bottle of Jameson whiskey. From there we proceeded to find glasses and ice, drinks were made in silence then we all stood fidgeting around the table.
Finally, Ramon broke the silence. “What did Watson mean anyway?”
“Never been to a wake have you?”
“Nah, what do we do?” Ramon said.
“Get drunk, tell stories, and try very very hard to get it out of our systems now.” Then raised my glass. “To Lynn, maybe some people are too good for this world.”
Everyone raised theirs and slugged down their drink. Once that was done, we all refilled and settled in for the night. I pulled off the bandage on my arm as I settled down in a recliner and relaxed looking at my now whole arm. Lynn's last little gift.
Tears glazed my eyes again and I took a deep breath. And steadied myself.
“What happened to your arm?” Rachel asked.
How did I explain all of this? “A very crazy person was exploring it with a scalpel before I showed up at the courthouse.”
“And how did that happen?” Shawn inquired.
That was the other problem. I was pretty sure I was gonna get a long debrief on this tomorrow. “Well let me see, the lady I thought was my girlfriend drugged me then turned me over to a few people who wanted to play a nice game of vivisection.”
“I am gonna kick that bitch’s ass.” Rachel said. Looking like she was going to get up and track her down tonight.
“It can wait.” I said and knocked back more of my drink.
“Dude, how did you get away?” Ramon wanted to know.
That’s when I thought about it for a second. Cathy had patted my leg and then a few moments later my powers began coming back.
Wait a second, when she patted my leg there had been a stinging sensation.
“One sec.” I said and ran to the bathroom. I shut the door and dropped my pants then ran my hand up my thigh.
That's when I felt it, a light raised ridge like the edge of a bandage. I pulled at it gently and it came loose. I held it to the light. It was a transparent square with the traces of a kind of clear fluid in it. One side was smooth but the side closest to the skin had a substance that felt like shark skin.
“Son of a bitch.”
I pulled my pants back up and walked back to the living room. When I got there I grabbed my phone and called Hamilton.
“Yeah?” He answered brusquely.
“Could you send a courier down here to pick up something for the lab to analyze?”
“What is it?”
“It's a med patch. I think Cathy put it on me.”
“Will do. We'll have a lab report in the am.”
I sat down looking at it and accepted a fresh drink from Shawn. “What's that?”
“The thing that likely saved my life.” Now Rachel was interested.
“How did it do that?” She said, looking at it curiously.
“I remember, just before the Doctor got started she said she was going to leave, and as she left she touched my leg. I remember now that it stung when she did.”
“But why would she go to the trouble of setting you up, then...” Shawn stopped.
“It was never about letting them do all that shit to me, it was about getting me in the middle of those guys and then having me turned loose on them.” I said as it all came into focus.
There was a knock at the door, a young lady in military BDU's stood there. I took the patch, put it in a Ziploc bag and handed it to her. Thanking her as she left.
“This whole thing is getting weird.” Rachel said as I came back. I brought a few bottles into the living room with me to save us all trips back and forth to the kitchen.
“To be honest, I was hoping we'd be on the ass kicking end of this. With a whole lot less of the thinking, the spying and the bullshit.” Ramon said in agreement.
I tipped back my drink, saw it was empty, then mixed another. “Hell, I'll settle for just having any idea of the hands we're being dealt.”
“Yeah, now what did you do to Lynn's shithead ex-old-man?” Rachel asked.
“He's gonna be in the hospital a long time. Maybe, if the Gods smiled on me, they'll wheel his ass into the courtroom in a gurney wearing a body cast.”
“I would have killed his bitch ass.” Ramon said, his words kind of slurred.
“The thought crossed my mind but... he wouldn't fight back.” I remembered seeing the look of terror and the tear in his eye. Maybe at that moment he had realized what a complete piece of shit he was, and how it had brought him to that place and time.
Or maybe he was just a coward who could only fight someone weaker than him.
We drank more, a lot more. By the time we were done we had finished each bottle of the “contraband” Watson and Hamilton had supplied us with.
I stumbled off to bed. Near blind drunk, and exhausted. So tired that I couldn't think much of Lynn’s death and Cathy's betrayal.
Chapter 43
The upside of the next day was, due to a smiling God, I had no hangover.
The downside was I got woken by my phone. My hand managed to find it on the third ring.
“The fuck is going on?” Dad's voice said.
Okay I had to think about that one a moment. I wasn't hung over but my brain was fuzzy as hell. “Well I got laid, kidnapped, experimented on, then joined in a battle and one of my friends got murdered by her former stepfather. All this in less than 12 hours.”
“I'm gonna need some time to process all that.” Dad said.
“Hah! You need time to process it!” I said, slowly sliding out of bed. My clock read 8:30 am. “It's been a weird week, and I have a debriefing to go to, if they'll let me free after that maybe we can sort it out at dinner.”
“See if you can. Your mother is about to come unglued.” He paused. “Got laid?”
“Call it the consolation prize for all the other bullshit I went through.”
“Well at least you got that. OW!!” The ow was preceded by a sound that made me think Mom had just made her displeasure known by smacking him across the back of the head. “Okay gotta go, the second all the official stuff is over, call me. I'll be in town.”
“Will do Dad. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I pulled myself out of bed and
stood in front of the mirror in the room. I stood there, looking at myself as if I was taking inventory. ‘Who am I?’ I thought. At the start of yesterday, I was another student, albeit one with superpowers. By mid-afternoon I was a lover, not long after that I was a victim, then a survivor. Immediately after I was a fighter; now I was heartbroken and mourning.
Super-powered? Sure. Still human in all the best and worst ways? Yes.
Looking in the mirror, I saw the effects of the genetic impact on me. I was lean and hard all over. Muscles that stood out when I turned my arms and a six pack of abs. Long dark hair and a face that was finally shedding its zits. Who knows, maybe I'd actually look good in a shoe ad.
I shook my head and got dressed, opening my closet and seeing my old clothes and the ones Cathy and I had bought just a few days prior.
A sudden red hot ball of rage built in me, sweeping in from out of the depths of my heart. I grabbed them and pulled the lot, hangers and all, out of the closet and flung them hard against the wall of my room.
I took a deep breath, no need to trash it all now. I could go outside and burn the whole damn bunch when I got back.
Reaching in I grabbed a pair of jeans and a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt, added a black over shirt, slipped on a set of white socks and my old combat boots.
Who was I? I was me, a wonderful disaster and a work of art in progress. That wasn't going to change.
Chapter 44
The only way to describe the next few hours was feeling like my life was getting a colonoscopy.
In retrospect I have to give Hamilton props for letting us blow off steam before the process began. If I had gone through this right after leaving the place where Lynn had been murdered, I might have snapped and done something I might regret. Not for having done it, but for doing twenty years for tossing a federal agent through a wall.
Aside from me being played like a damn harp, and the incident with the crazy doctor and his associates, most of whom were now cooling their heels in a federal lockup in Quantico. There was also the matter of the serious injuries Lynn's step-dad had suffered which were not limited to 8 fractured ribs, a broken pelvis and damaged vertebrae.
Amazing what happens when you slam a douchebag into a wall as hard as you can.
I tried not to smile at that, as the guy behind the table was a former federal prosecutor and was doing a good job of trying to rattle my cage.
Thankfully Watson and Hamilton were acting as my council on the subject. We had a signal arranged. Anytime it looked like I was being set up for a “gotcha” question, one or the other would tap my shin with their foot so I knew to tread carefully.
It took till about 3 pm for me to be let free of the debrief, and walking out I felt like my brain had been put through the ringer.
“What do you think they'll charge me with?” I inquired as we walked out.
“Nothing.” Watson said flatly.
“Come again? The guy tried to paint me as an active participant in a security breach, an attempted murderer and overall idiot.” I said as we all walked toward the commissary.
“Well, that's his job.” Hamilton said. “But in the end he’s got nothing. You are a 17-year-old kid that got played by a pro, then reacted the way any person would when confronted by the man who killed his friend. No jury in the world would convict you of anything more than poor judgement.”
“Mind you, it does mean I'm going to have a nice long talk with the FBI's counter intelligence branch, so if you'll excuse me.” Watson said. He turned to leave then looked back. “You're gonna tear yourself up over this, just take my advice. Learn from it, don't let the bullshit define you or you'll never trust yourself again.”
“Sounds like the voice of experience.” I said with a grin.
“Only in others.” He said with a warm smile, something I had not really seen on his face before. “I emerged from the womb perfect and prepared to kick ass on behalf of my nation.” He chuckled as he walked off.
“Now what?” I asked Hamilton. He was staring off into the sky looking like he was collecting his own thoughts.
“School day is over; we're making arrangements for Lynn's funeral. She'll be getting full honors.” He shook his head. “Don't know if it will matter to her family, but it will to me.” He paused and grinned. “Any contraband left at your place?”
“There might be a bottle stashed somewhere for emergencies.” My smile was weak as I said it.
“Good, keep it handy. The fallout will take time to settle and when it does I might need a drink.”
Hamilton walked off slowly, his head turning to take in the gray grass and trees with no leaves. The barren feel of the place matched how I felt. I needed something warmer. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out my phone.
“Hey Dad, ready for an early dinner?”
“I already got the place picked out. See if you can get cleared to fly to 612 North Wells.”
“Will do. If not, I'll kidnap a taxi. See ya soon.”
I retrieved my helmet and set the coordinates. The nav program now automatically listed my flight plan with O'Hare and Midway Air Traffic Control. It paused a moment and gave me an altitude and route.
To fight against the day’s chill, I added a biker jacket, then stepped outside and pushed off. Making my way over the press, gawkers and protesters keeping my speed high enough that the signs some held were a blur. Today was not the day for me to be reading someone’s hate filled piece of foam core board.
I followed the green line religiously down the north side, and landed behind the address I was given. Turning to the front I smiled. Carson's is a Chicago landmark. It was a rib joint, admittedly a very high class one, but their BBQ ribs and steaks are the stuff of legend. I considered my bank balance. Considering my now massively larger appetite, asking Mom and Dad to pay up for the carnage that was about to happen seemed to be kind of rude.
Mom's Volvo Station Wagon was parked in the lot and as I passed by the valet he looked at me and my helmet, then looked again. “Hey, aren't you...?” He was a guy in his sixties with cafe au lait skin that looked like someone had taken careful time tanning it into leather.
“Yeah.” I answered. “Hope I'm not crashing the party.”
“You're just fine young man.” He smiled. “Hope to see ya soon.”
“Thanks boss.” I said and walked inside the place. The room was well lit; the lights hadn't been taken down yet for dinner. The walls covered in pictures and old news clippings of sports highlights and news that had happened in the city since the place opened.
Looking to the back, I saw Dad wave at me from a corner booth so I walked past the maître d’ and came on up. Both Mom and Dad got up, and before I could say anything, I was wrapped up in group hug. After the last two days I really needed it on a level that bordered on the primal.
It took us a minute to simply let that get out of our systems and we all sat down. Mom spoke up first. “Tell us what happened.”
The waiter walked up and I ordered a soda, water and a rack of ribs. Mom and Dad gave their orders and once he left I started in. “It all begins with a record shop.” I said.
Then I told the whole tale. Jimmy, Lynn, Rachel, Ramon, Shawn, Cathy, the ship, the bank bust, Lynn's step-dad and the evidence against him, getting poisoned, getting tortured, escaping, the battle and the murder. I decided to skip the wake part. They didn't need to know about that. By the time I was done, dinner was brought to us and well and truly gone.
“Jesus, and it's only the first semester. I wonder what you'll have to do for an encore.” Dad said.
“At this rate it's anyone’s guess.” I replied.
“I want you out of there.” Mom said with a tone that had nothing but finality to it.
I had to admit I could see her desire to have me out of the place. The last few months had been anything but safe. But on the other hand.
“I want to stay.” I said simply. Before either of them could respond I jumped in. “How often do you get a chance to do anythi
ng important? I mean really important? The world has so many ‘Touched’ in it now that someone has to be the one who works to keep the bad ones in check and points out to the people who aren't ‘Touched’ that we're not all monsters.”
“But still, why does it have to be you?” Mom queried in a worried tone of voice.
I shrugged. “Because I lucked out when that piece of the comet exploded? Would you rather I puzzle out how to use my abilities at home or have me figure them out in a place that’s built to take the potential abuse? Because these aren't going away anytime soon.”
Mom shook her head and Dad rolled his eyes. “Long story short.” He began. “There's no simple safe answer.”
“Pretty much.” I grabbed a stray steak fry from dad’s plate and wolfed it down. “Hey, it's like if I decided to be a soldier or a cop. Dangerous but necessary.”
“True and it pays more.” He said. Reaching down into the booth on the side furthest from me. He pulled up a folder that was chock full of paper. “The other reason I wanted to talk to you was the lawyers got done arguing with the Adidas people.”
“Well that was a left turn.” I said. “What’s the final deal?”
“To put it simply they supply you with shoes, clothes etc., you do a few photo shoots for posters and ads, maybe a TV spot.” He paused. “Maybe. Then you wear the shoes and such in public and they pay you this amount of money.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and pointed to a final figure at the bottom.
My Jaw hit the floor. “I could retire on that.”
“After you pay the lawyers and your agent. It's an option.” He said with a grin. “You also get royalties for any clothing or shoes based on designs with your name on them, you could see serious money for quite a while from the deal.”
I sat back. My head settling on the high cushioned back of the booth. “Okay where do I sign?”
“Right here. Your mom and I co-sign as you're still technically a minor.” He said.
I fished a pen from my jacket and did the deed, Mom and Dad both signed their dotted lines. Part of me wondering what brand new mess I might have stepped in with this, and another part of me jumping with glee over the sheer amount of capital I'd have.
