by J D Jacobs
Grant walks over to the animals. The dogs all growl viciously at Grant, chomping on the metal bars separating them from him. Grant then walks up to Abbi and watches as she studies him with her one eye. She looks like she’s healing from a clearly bad injury. I’m not sure how she lost her eye, but it still looks gruesome. In place of the metallic armor I’ve known her to wear are purple bald patches where she doesn’t have any feathers. Purple swarms over the half of her face that is missing an eye. Grant looks at her with pity, wanting to somehow help her.
“Oh my God!” I hear Dad’s voice as he finally makes his way in the room, carrying a syringe filled with some liquid. “You’re still alive! Amazing.” Dad is astounded and even a little impressed to see Grant alive. He places the syringe down and walks over to Grant and the animals.
“What’s going on?” Grant asks, bewildered. “And you… What happened here?”
“You’re alive, that’s what’s going on here. I never told you my name. I’m Anthony Foxx.”
Dad extends his hand for Grant to shake it, but Grant doesn’t react. It seems to take Grant a while to process what’s happening. He’s alive. Not long ago, he was asking Dad to move so he could die sitting, and now he is somehow miraculously alive. He finally reaches out and accepts my dad’s handshake. “I have so many questions, but I don’t know where to start…” As he tries to wrap his mind around his survival, he turns to the eagle. “These animals, they seem so… so hurt. What happened to them?”
“They’re tests,” Dad tells him. “Two dumpster rats, a few dogs I picked up from the pound, and an eagle that I found injured a couple of days ago.”
“Tests?” Grant looks at Abbi, who seems to nod her head. He places his hand up against her cage to try and pet her, but once he does, he notices something strange about his hand. “Hey, my hand! My fingernails; they’re purple! What happened to them? What’s going on here!?”
“I didn’t think you would remember… After your friend left you with me, I injected you with a vaccine; the only known Cozmin vaccine,” Dad smoothly tells him as he tries to calm Grant down.
“You injected me with a… a WHAT!?”
“I’ve been testing the vaccine on animals and studying how they react to the Cozmin,” Dad continues, ignoring Grant’s compete befuddlement. “The animals all seem to be safely immune to the Cozmin virus. The thing about the vaccine, though, is that it gives the animals a few side effects. For starters, all creatures that have the vaccine in their system have something of their body turn to a lavender color. That’s not the only side effect, though. The other side effects seem to differ from each species, as each animal gains its own unique set of mental and physical traits after they’ve been injected with the vaccine.”
Dad walks over to the cage of dogs as they bark rabidly at him. “These dogs were once domesticated; now they’re all completely deranged. Not only that, but over the last couple of weeks, they’ve seemed to grow in bulk each day. I’ve also noticed that this trait is hereditary. You should see how vicious the puppies are.”
He then moves down to the cage with Scar and Scat in them. “The rats are incredibly smart and possess traits eerily similar to house cats. They can also detect human emotions. If I were in pain or sad, they could react accordingly. The rats can’t reproduce, though. I’ve tried to get them to but no luck. I’ve also noted that they enjoy the taste of human flesh. They love licking my skin.”
Finally, Dad moves to Abbi’s cage. Grant looks at her with a combination of skepticism and admiration. “The eagle has the most bizarre traits.” Abbi shows her first sign of displeasure by ramming her beak into the cage, bending the metal wire and startling Grant. There’s the first indication that Abbi doesn’t prefer being called anything other than Abbi. “She has exquisite hearing and can understand a limited amount of human vocabulary. She is also very strong, much more than the average eagle.” She rams her beak again, bending the wire more. “She can pick up several hundred pounds with her talons and has, dare I say, impeccable force with her beak, as you can see by what she’s doing to her cage. She’s odd, I know. Very, very odd.”
Grant blinks multiple times, trying to comprehend what he heard. “What about humans? What happens to us?”
“No clue. I’ve been studying these animals for a while, but there may be more traits than that. As for humans, your guess on what the vaccine does is as good as mine. You’re the first human with the vaccine.”
“So you have a successful vaccination for the Cozmin disease?” Grant asks as if the information is just now registering.
“Yes. I shot you up with a vaccine, which is why you’re still alive.”
“Oh my God! That’s amazing! You can save this city before the virus spreads any further! You can save thousands–no, millions!”
“No,” Dad firmly rejects. “You are the first and only test I’ve done on humans. I don’t know what side effects will come of this yet, and until I figure them out, nobody else will get vaccinated.”
“Are you crazy? You saved my life! This vaccination made me new again! You can save so many lives with–”
“Listen,” Dad commands, annoyed, “I saved your life, but you listen to me good: if you ever tell a soul what I’ve done and what I possess, I will kill you myself. Nobody can know that I have a vaccine.”
Grant gulps, clearly not understanding why Dad wants this to be a secret. “Why would you…” he begins, but is too afraid to continue asking. This random man just saved his life and threatened to murder him all in a few minutes. Grant can’t decide if my dad is a dangerous threat. “Well, what about my friend, Phil? Can he have some of the vaccine, too, so he can stay safe?”
“What did you not understand about what I said?” Dad’s anger is shown, and I even cower down a little. A decade later and his bursts of anger still frighten me. “Nobody else can know about this! I don’t care if your wife and kids are all dying from the Cozmin, NOBODY can know! I only did it on you because I needed a test, so consider yourself extremely lucky.”
Grant nods his head, feeling threatened. “What… what do I do now? Will the vaccine protect me from here on out?”
Dad taps Abbi’s bent cage as he tries to settle down. “I don’t know. Like I said, you’re the first human test. We’ll see how this goes. In the mean time, I want you to stay here in Westwood, at least for a few hours. If you have any complications or other side effects, I need to know about them, not anyone else.”
“Okay. But I still don’t understand. Why would you make a–”
Grant’s legs give out from under him, his head hits hard against the cage, his eyes are rolled back. Dad tries to grab him before he falls, but he doesn’t react fast enough. Grant must be having his first flashback, as Dad frantically tries to wake him up.
The scene spirals away from me, and my vision fades again.
I feel hands on my shoulder. I hear groans. They’re my own groans. They seem to grow louder the longer I lie there.
“Son! Son, talk to me! You! Yeah, you! Go get some help. Get Grant Bryson, find him and bring him here…”
And then I’m thrown into another sepia scene.
This one is familiar because I’ve been here in a flashback before. We’re in Roaksville, and there’s a group of people circled together. Grant sits on the ground, bleeding through his mouth, two of his teeth in his hand. Dad walks away from him, shaking his knuckles. Cody, Scarlett, Ryan, and Mr. Armstrong walk away, too, knowing that they’re no longer welcome in Roaksville anymore. They just voluntarily kicked themselves out, and Dad punching Grant solidified that the bridge is burned right behind them.
“Hey, Avalon. Come here.” Grant points to Ryan as blood drips down his chin and covers the mask on his face. Ryan looks at Grant, reluctant. “Please.”
Ryan turns back and walks toward Grant. The other four continue walking further off toward two cars that are parked next to each other. I’m in between both groups so I have to decide which one I want to listen in on.
I follow Ryan.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Ryan tells Grant. The crowd that was gathered around has now begun to drift apart. “There’s a new hope out there, somewhere.”
“Save your breath, kid,” Grant apathetically claims. “You have to know something about that nurse you’re travelling with, Anthony Foxx.”
Ryan squats down to meet Grant’s lowered voice. I look behind him to see the other four in the distance. Dad is filling up his and Cody’s car with a gasoline jug, looking toward Grant and Ryan with suspicion.
“Anthony has a vaccine to the Cozmin,” Grant tells him, his voice hardy but quiet, “and for some reason, he doesn’t want people to know about it. He refuses to release it to the public and save billions of lives. I don’t know if it’s because he’s selfish or if he’s cautious or just plain scared of the outcome, but he has a vaccine.”
Ryan turns around to look at the group. He and Dad lock eyes for a split second. Ryan turns back around to Grant with doubt in his face. “There’s no way. If Mr. Foxx had that, he would’ve shared it with us. I mean, we’re his son’s best friends. Even if he had a vaccine, he would’ve given it to his son, Jaden, but he already died from the Cozmin. There’s no way.”
“I’m telling you the God’s honest truth. He gave me the vaccine and told me not to tell anybody. And I promise you, if you take that mask off of Anthony, you’ll see that his goatee is purple. That is, if he hadn’t shaved it off by now.” Grant lifts his hand and shows Ryan his fingernails. “It’s the same color purple as my nails. All those that have the vaccine have purple in them.”
“That’s insane,” Ryan says. “The fact that you painted your fingernails just to try and convince me that Ant would do such a thing is hysterical.”
“Fine. You can believe me or not, but you have to be wary around Anthony. Why do you think I was so mad about that wall idea? He was right: the wall worked, it was only put up too late. I was mad at Anthony because he has a better alternative that would save the human race, yet he doesn’t want people to know it.”
“That doesn’t…” Ryan thinks it over before continuing, “…why would he even create the vaccine then? Better yet, how did he create it?”
“He knows something about the Cozmin that no one else does. What it is, I don’t know.”
I take a step back as the words slap me in the face. I look over at Dad, who’s now talking to Cody but still eyeing Grant and Ryan from across the park. I pace over to them to hear what’s going on.
“…but it should be over there.” Dad points to a building away from them. “If you go get it, I’ll go refill this jug and put gasoline in the other car. Our car should be good enough. I have extra jugs in the back seat, too.”
“Sure thing,” Cody says and jogs off. I’m not sure what Dad told Cody to get, but Dad begins walking away from everyone else and toward a gas station that’s further off, carrying the large, red gasoline jug with him.
I quietly follow him as he hikes his way to the station. I can hear a decent amount of gasoline splashing in the jug he’s carrying, so apparently the jug isn’t empty. Perhaps he just wants to be safe.
He stops and looks around to see if anybody else can see him. After seeing that the coast is clear, he passes the gas tanks altogether and heads into the convenience store. Once in there, he approaches a case of bottled water and rips the plastic open. He then starts pouring bottle after bottle of water into the gasoline jug.
I rub my eyes for clarity. What I’m seeing is what happened. I cannot believe this one bit.
Dad fills the rest of the jug up with water, then makes his way back to the two getaway cars that the five have planned on leaving in. Ryan, Scarlett, and Mr. Armstrong are all talking as Dad comes back.
“What did Grant want?” Dad asks Ryan as he walks up to their other getaway car and removes the cap to the fuel tank. The mixture of gas and water glugs its way down the jug’s nozzle.
“Oh, nothing important,” Ryan says, trying his best to act like it really was nothing. “Just, you know… goodbye.”
Dad grins at Ryan as the jug tilts higher up. I wonder how long down the road Scarlett, Ryan, and Mr. Armstrong got before their engine gave up. I wonder how long Dad continued to drive away, knowing the other car broke down. I wonder how long it took Cody to notice that Ryan, Scarlett, and Mr. Armstrong weren’t anywhere around.
The sepia world spirals.
I’m groaning for my dad. Lost in a sea of black, I can’t see him anywhere. But I can hear him.
“Jaden! I’m right here! You’re okay, you’re just having flashbacks. Stay with me, son!”
I’m sent into another sepia world.
This one takes place in Dad’s hospital office in Tryton. Dad stands behind his desk, his arms extended and propping him up. He’s furiously waiting on someone.
The door barges open. Jenkins strides in with a wry smile. “Good morning, Anthony!”
“How dare you make a fool of my son last night like that!” Dad barks at Jenkins. “Dragging him out into the Crowbar and tricking him into going on stage? That’s a weak move.”
“Please, Anthony, you act like you’ve never used low-blows before,” Jenkins says as he closes the door behind him. “I simply had to confirm what I was thinking, and I was right. The boy is immune, and the immune have purple. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about your old goatee, Anthony. You may try to shave it off two or three times a day, but you aren’t fooling me: you’re immune to the Cozmin, too.”
Dad shoots daggers at Jenkins, scowling menacingly.
“And it won’t be long before people start making the connection,” Jenkins proudly continues, “because, if I recall correctly, before the bird captured your son’s purple eyes, nobody knew that purple had any significance. You had it your first day in Tryton when you took your mask off for the first time, but you quickly shaved it off when you found a razor. Certainly–surely–people don’t remember your purple goatee from months ago, right? You hoped everyone would forget about your short-lived purple goatee, but now your son just keeps forcing people to remember, constantly bringing up the purple color. It won’t be long, Anthony, until people start putting two-and-two together: ‘Anthony and Jaden are father/son, they both have purple, and they’re both from Westwood, Mississippi. Something’s fishy here.’”
“Shut the hell up, Harrison. You don’t know anything. You may pretend to, but you don’t have a clue.”
“Oh, I don’t? Really? Because it seems pretty obvious to me that you possess something important. All those connections with your son, the immune savior Jaden Foxx himself.”
“Quit bashing my son! Drag me all you want, say whatever theory you have and point it at me, but don’t you dare target Jaden.”
“Why not? There’s gotta be something to it, right? Take a look at Westwood, Mississippi. Population 30,000 or something. That was where scientists believe that the Cozmin disease originated. A small town in Mississippi having the first documented case of a murderous epidemic? How could that be? Even stranger, there’s three Westwood survivors currently in Tryton, and you also demanded that I deny three more from Westwood…”
Jenkins leans in over Dad’s desk, owning a fiendish smirk. Dad’s eyes have now drifted to the floor. “What is it about that city? Is there something you don’t want to tell me, Anthony? That man and those two kids from Westwood that you told me to reject; did they know something about you? Maybe there’s more to you than just the immunity.”
Dad slams his fists into his desk. “Enough!” He looks up at Jenkins, disgust and pure revulsion spewing from his eyes. Jenkins has a victorious glare. “Don’t you ever mention my son’s name in this. If you ever manipulate him again, I’ll take you down myself. Get out of my office.”
Jenkins’s lips curl into an even broader grin. “This isn’t about the boy, Anthony. This is about you. It always has been.” He then pinches his fingers to his lips and zips them shut. “Your secret is safe with me!” He
turns to leave, but as he opens the door, he taunts Dad one last time. “At least for now.”
Jenkins closes the door behind him. For a solid minute, Dad stares angrily at the floor. He then bursts into tears and shoves everything off his desk. Pens fly across the room, papers float down on the floor. Dad’s elbows jam into the desk and he buries his head in his hands, tears rushing out through his knuckles.
His desk isn’t completely bare: there’s still one blank piece of paper and a red pen barely holding on from the ledge. Once Dad’s hand reaches for the paper, the scene spirals out.
But this time, another scene immediately replaces it.
Behind me, I’m on top of the Tryton hospital’s roof. Grant sits in his chair, per usual, staring intently at a small picture held in his hands. The door under The Spot bursts open. Dad struts angrily out, a folded letter in his hand.
“Where’s the bird!?” Dad roars at Grant.
Grant jumps up from his chair and drops the picture, startled. “Jenkins locked her up. Why?”
Dad purses his lip in overflowing frustration. “Come with me. I have a mission for her.”
Grant’s head twitches, a sliver of worry in his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I need this letter sent to Avvil. Now!” Grant grabs the folded letter from Dad’s hand. He stares at it, wanting to break the seal, and Dad can tell he’s curious. “Don’t worry about what it says. I need it sent. Come with me and we’ll let your bird out.”
“Jenkins is okay with this?”
Steam blows through Dad’s nose. “I don’t give a damn what Jenkins has to say! Now let’s go!”
“Okay, but Jenkins and Jaden are leaving for Avvil in two days, why can’t they take it?”
“Stop asking questions and come with me!” Dad says, trying to get off the roof as quickly as possible. “The bird doesn’t like me, so I need you to tell her to send it. I’m not leaving until I see that paper in that bird’s mouth.”
