by J. M. Pierce
“What happened?” asked Enrique.
Alyssa glanced to James; her tongue tied in knots.
“Alyssa, what happened?” asked Enrique once more.
“Rob was here.” As soon as she’d said the words, she held her breath, instantly realizing what she’d done.
James stared at her, perplexed by her expression. “Alyssa…Rob is dead.”
She stared back at him blankly. A fear that she’d known since childhood suddenly paralyzed her. With great pain, she forced the words to from her lips. “I know,” she replied.
Enrique put his hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get him to the truck.” As he spoke, he looked to James. He knew that he was going to fracture his relationship with his niece, but it was for her own good.
With a gentle nudge, Enrique moved Alyssa from Test’s side. He looked down at the young man with regret, but the regret quickly turned to anger at the thought of such betrayal of trust. Enrique rolled Test’s body, placing his left hand under his shoulders and his right arm in the crook of Test’s knees. With a grunt, he stood up.
The air was silent. No one spoke as they walked down the road. Alyssa walked beside her uncle, rhythmically running her fingers through Test’s blood soaked hair. After a hundred yards, Enrique began to fatigue.
“Call him in,” said Enrique. “I can’t carry him any farther.”
Alyssa looked at Enrique curiously. “Call who in?”
Before she could get an answer, James was on the phone and speaking to someone.
Alyssa stepped in front of James. “Who were you talking to?” she asked.
James looked to Enrique, hoping for guidance to keep from answering the question. He looked back to Alyssa and opened his mouth, but before he was able to speak, the sound of tires sliding on a dirt road grew in intensity.
Alyssa looked to her right to see one of Enrique’s trucks speeding up the road. “Who’s in there?” she asked nervously.
Neither Enrique nor James provided an answer. The both of them stared down the road with a grim expression.
“Who’s in that truck?” yelled Alyssa as she pushed James.
“It’s for your own good!” shouted Enrique. “He’s a damned freak; a murderer! I won’t let you ruin your life!”
She turned to her uncle with tears in her eyes and ferocity in her voice. “What have you done?” she asked. “What have you done?”
The truck came to a sliding stop ten feet from where they were standing. Before the dust had a chance to settle, the soldier jumped from the vehicle and ran to them.
“That was fast,” he said. He then noticed the blood. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” replied Enrique as he handed Test’s limp body to the soldier. “Here’s your fugitive. Go be the damn hero.”
As Enrique stepped away from the soldier, Alyssa jumped in front of him. “You asshole!” she exclaimed as she slapped his face.
Enrique grabbed her wrists and held her firmly. “I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you. But I’m not going to let you hit me again, is that understood, young lady?”
Without so much as a thought, Alyssa spat in his face.
At the limit of his patience, Enrique grabbed her arm and led her to the truck. “That’ll be enough of that! I’m taking you home.”
Alyssa dragged the tip of her toes with each step, making her uncle work as hard as possible. He was much stronger than she was, and she knew better than to fight too much, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t make it difficult. She watched as James let down the tailgate, and then the soldier gently rested Test’s body on it. James jumped up into the bed, and lifting under Test’s arms, dragged him into the bed of the truck.
“Get in, Alyssa.”
She turned to see Enrique holding open the passenger door. Without a word she climbed into the truck, stuck between her uncle and the soldier. As the truck began to move, Alyssa heard a voice.
“Don’t worry, miss. I’ll stay with him.”
Chapter 19
He awoke to a darkness and pain like he had never felt before. He became aware of the cold, hard surface on his bare back, and the aching in his head was overshadowed only by the fog of semi-consciousness. His body felt like it weighed the equivalent of a tank, and as he tried to lift his arms, he felt the straps that held them down.
Mentally searching his body, he realized that his arms were not the only thing restrained. Both of his legs, as well as his forehead and torso, were immobile. He strained to open his eyes, and after several moments he was able to peer through a blurry slit. His only view was that of a bank of spotlights that shown down brightly upon him. His eyes felt pressurized, and he struggled to remember his last moments of consciousness. The recollection of the beating he took came back to him with a rush of fear. He hadn’t ever felt as helpless as he had then—until now.
The room was alive with the buzz of electricity, and the white noise blared like a siren in his ears. He began to struggle, but the constriction upon him was tight. The frustration within him grew, and he focused to light the energy within. Nothing happened. His mind drifted wildly, unable to focus on the task at hand.
“Focus,” he said to himself.
His voice echoed around the room. Once more, he strained to ignite his powers, but as before, the fire was gone.
Suddenly, he was overcome with a wave of dizziness as the room seemed to rock back and forth. The nausea it caused forced him to take deep breaths to avoid vomiting.
“Hello?” he asked desperately. “Cliff? Are you there?” He was taken aback by the slurring of his words. “Is there anyone there? Where am I?”
Breaking the steady electric hum was the sound of a door opening, and then closing.
“Hello, Mr. Davis.”
“Who’s there?” he asked, attempting to turn his head in the direction of the voice.
A second voice whispered inaudibly to the first.
“Where am I?” asked Test once again.
“My name is Agent Dawson,” replied the first voice.
“What do you want with me?”
Dawson replied with a sinister laugh. “The question isn’t what do I want with you, it’s more what you can do for me.” Agent Dawson’s voice moved around him as he spoke. “How are you feeling?”
Fighting off the continual urge to vomit, Test replied. “I’m dizzy.”
Dawson chuckled. “That would be the fresh dose of sedative kicking in. You need your rest, Mr. Davis. You’ve been through quite a lot.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m the one you’ve been hiding from for the last year.”
Test’s heart stopped.
“You are, how should I say this…unique, Mr. Davis. Your powers pose a severe threat to the general public; to the world, really.”
“I wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Test replied.
Test could here Dawson take a deep breath.
“Wouldn’t you? Mr. Davis, do you forget the armory in Lincoln; the soldiers that you killed there?”
“They were…”
“And what about Robert Mills? Surely you remember killing him? That was just a short time ago.”
Test struggled beneath the straps. “It was self defense! If everyone would just leave me alone, none of this would have ever happened!”
“I don’t believe you,” replied Dawson as he slammed his fist on the table where Test lay. “Professor,” his voice faded away from Test. “I think you’d better increase the sedative a touch. We can’t have Mr. Davis getting too worked up; now can we, Mr. Davis?”
Test heard a couple of clicking sounds, and then yet another wave of dizziness hit him. His body felt so heavy now that breathing was difficult. Test felt Dawson’s touch on his fists.
“Speaking of getting worked up, how are your powers working for you?” asked the second voice in a thick Russian accent.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Professor Gusyeva. Please answer my q
uestion, young man. How are your powers working for you?”
“If you’re able to ask, then you know the answer,” replied Test.
Test couldn’t be sure if he had actually said the words aloud. He held his eyes closed tightly. The room was spinning so violently that all he could do was hope to pass out.
“So, is it true?” asked the Professor.
“Is what true?”
“You don’t know how your powers work; their origins?”
Test couldn’t answer. The word origins echoed through his mind as his last bit of focus faded.
Dawson quickly turned to the Professor. “You gave him too much. Juice him back up a little.”
Professor Gusyeva grabbed a syringe and filled it with a clear liquid from a vial that had rested on a small stainless steel table next to Test. Without any regard for pain endured, he stabbed the needle into Test’s shoulder and forced the liquid into his body.
“Not too much, damn it! I don’t feel like dying today,” yelled Dawson.
The Professor looked at him out the corner of his eye. His gold rimmed glasses sat crooked on his nose.
Test felt the wave of nausea subside, yet his body continued to lay dormant under an invisible weight. He turned his eyes to the Professor and was surprised at his unkempt appearance. He had thinning white hair and a messy white beard that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks.
“What do you want with me?” asked Test.
“It’s quite simple really. We want to understand you,” answered the Professor. He straightened his glasses and continued. “Let me ask you something. Are you familiar with the Tunguska event of 1908?”
Test reached back into his mind. The name was familiar, but he couldn’t recall it completely. “Maybe,” he replied.
“In 1908, there was a massive explosion in the heart of the Siberian wilderness. Everything for eight-hundred and thirty square miles was leveled. Mysteriously, there is no impact site.
“It has been speculated that the explosion was caused by a comet fragment that exploded miles above the ground. The destruction was immense, and to this day, there are investigations and studies that are yielding little if any positive explanation.”
Test’s mouth had become dry, and he tried to wet his lips as he spoke. “What does that have to do with me,” he asked.
“Have you ever thought that, perhaps, you’re not the first of your kind, Mr. Davis?”
Test took a cleansing breath. “Of course I’ve thought about it, but there’s no way.” His dry throat cracked his words. Scowling at the Professor, Test continued. “They would have ended up like me; stuck in a lab.”
The Professor let out a grunt. “Why? Just because you suffer from behavioral issues, could it not be possible for someone more level-headed to keep themselves and their powers under control?”
Test closed his eyes. Suffering under the weight of the Professor’s words, he replied in a defeated tone. “Up yours.”
Without acknowledging the comment, the Professor continued. “Near the impact site, there is a group of native people known as the Evenks. Some of them claim to have been witness to a brilliant blue light that streaked through the sky minutes before the explosion.
“In the late thirties, I was fortunate enough to have been included on an expedition to investigate the area. Part of our mission was to interview as many surviving witnesses to the event as possible. One of the women that we spoke with was just a young child when the event took place. Her name was Janna, and she told us that she had actually seen the blue streak in the sky. When asked what she thought it was, she replied, “the shadow woman”. Of course it is common for indigenous peoples to grant god-like status to things that they don’t understand, so this didn’t strike us as terribly odd. When asked to explain, she suddenly became withdrawn and silent.
“Over the next few days, we continued to ask others about their accounts and never heard mention of the shadow woman again; until the last day. It was then that we were approached by a young male who identified himself as the son of Janna. He explained that the story of the shadow woman had been a long guarded secret within his family. His mother wouldn’t speak of it for fear of retribution or ridicule.
“In the weeks prior to the event, his mother and her siblings had happened upon a woman in the forest. She was different from them in that her skin was very pale and she had curly brown hair and blue eyes. Protected from her view by the dense growth of forest, they watched as she approached a collection of fallen branches. She stood with her right arm outstretched for a moment. It was then that a blue light began to come from under her skin on the back side of her hand.”
Test listened intently and his heart began to race as he watched the Professor tug at his beard.
“The youngest of the group couldn’t contain her fear and let out a scream. Instantly, the woman turned toward the children and then vanished. Between the children and where the woman had been standing, it appeared, in their words, that the forest had been painted on a piece of cloth that was waving in the wind. The children remained motionless and watched as the waves moved through the trees and away from them until it disappeared.
“The oldest stood to follow, and was instantly lifted from the ground by an unseen force. The other children screamed and ran away; all but Janna. She stayed and pleaded with the invisible hand to let her brother go. Tears streamed from her face as she begged, and within moments her brother was released. The two of them ran back to the village and never looked back.
“Their father was tending to their herd of deer when the children ran towards him, screaming about the woman that they had just seen. He listened to the children’s fantastic story, and quickly dismissed it as an imaginative tale.
“The children pleaded with their father to listen, but there was no shortage of chores to be done, and he quickly reminded them of their own duties. Rejected by their father, the children reluctantly walked away having been sure of what they had seen.
“Weeks passed, and one day the father and his eldest son journeyed into the woods to gather firewood. Night came, and neither of them had returned home. Janna and her mother tried not to worry. Instead, they tended to the younger ones. As they readied them for bed, a scream echoed from outside. Janna’s mother ran to the door. She could see the outline of her son in the moonlit shadows of the tree line. At the sight of his mother, the boy began to run towards her as his screams echoed through the house.”
Test felt like a young boy listening to a scary bed time story; he listened intently to every word the Professor spoke.
“Once in his mother’s arms, the boy stammered as he gasped for air. “The woman…the woman is…,” he said. “She killed Father.” Immediately taken aback by what the boy was saying, Janna and her siblings listened mournfully as their brother spoke of him and his father happening across a tunnel in the ground.
“Every square mile of land that surrounded their home was known by the family. The tunnel had not been there before. Their father entered the tunnel cautiously, and disappeared from the boy’s sight. After several moments, the man returned holding what appeared to be a small bundle of blankets.
“The boy tried to speak to his father, but before the father could answer, the silence of the forest was shattered by a loud scream. The boy turned to see the shadow woman standing twenty meters from him. She was staring straight at him and yelling in an unfamiliar language. She had apparently been unaware of his father standing down in the tunnel, because as he emerged, she reacted by thrusting her glowing red palm toward him. Instantly, an eruption of dirt and debris exploded between the boy and his father, and when the dust settled, he saw his father lying face down on the ground roughly thirty feet from the entrance of the tunnel. He watched as his father struggled to his hands and knees, frantically sifting through the bundle of blankets. It was then that on the ground beneath his father, he saw a baby lying motionless and quiet. The father leaned down and placed his ear to the baby’s chest, and th
en looked back to the boy as he shook his head.
“In an eruption of light, bright red flashes of light shot from the woman’s torso and down her arms as she burst into the air. She moved so quickly that the boy’s eyes could barely follow, and she suddenly appeared in front of his father. He watched helplessly as she threw his father into the trees, killing him instantly. She picked up the dead baby in her arms, and cried with her eyes to the sky. The boy turned and began to run through the trees, his adrenaline and fear carrying him over fallen limbs and uneven ground with blind ease.
“After running for several minutes he turned to see if the woman was following him, but could see nothing. He turned back to continue his run home and saw a shadow looming before him. Standing some ten feet in front of him was a darkened area of forest. The outline was nearly impossible to discern, but it was as if someone had dimmed the light on this one section of landscape. And then it moved closer. The boy could see waves radiating from the sides of the shadow. He’d seen it before and instantly knew that it was the woman.
“He turned back and began to run once more. Tree trunks snapped and fell behind him as if a giant was pushing its way through the forest. With a glance over his shoulder, his foot caught a limb and he fell haplessly forward. Suddenly, he felt a constriction around his torso, and stopped falling as fast as he had started. He couldn’t breathe; not from the constriction, but because his lungs burned from the run. He looked to the ground and found himself suspended at a forty-five degree angle. Floating in the air, his body began to roll over, and his eyes fell on the shadow that stood motionless behind him. His fear forced him to sob uncontrollably; crying his mother’s name with each breath. As if someone had lowered a curtain, the woman’s face slowly materialized atop the shadow. Her eyes were swollen with tears, and the pain on her face was unmistakable. The remainder of the shadow disappeared, and the woman stood in full form with an electric blue and red light emanating from beneath her skin. She stood with her left arm reaching to him, her face full of sorrow. She walked towards the boy, spoke words that were unknown to him, and touched his cheek with her right hand. Before the boy could react, he was standing on the edge of the forest looking at his home.”
