Kindle Series 3-Book Bundle: A Genetic Engineering Science Fiction Thriller Series

by Orrin Jason Bradford

  "When did this call come in, Fred?"

  "About fifteen minutes ago, I think. At least, that's when the switchboard got it to me. I've been looking for you. Bad news?"

  Chickowski shook his head. "No, not really. Actually, I'd say it's good news. It's from Chunk. He's checking in to let me know they're leaving Danville in a little while. They captured one of the kids and shot the other one."

  "Shot one? Damn!" Fred said.

  "More importantly, we have only a few hours before they'll be back. I want to be ready to transport the kids out of here within the hour."

  "Where are we going to take them?"

  "We aren't going to take them anywhere. I'm taking them and where is none of your business – least, not for now. Let's just say they're going where they will be safe, and where I won't be hampered in my work with them. Is Barry back with the van yet?"

  Chickowski wasn't about to depend on Brown's crew totally. He wanted to have a backup just in case. At least the van would serve to get them away from Bio-Vita. He'd have to improvise beyond that. Besides, it kept his two cohorts occupied and would serve as a diversion. They'd be expecting him to leave by way of the van when, presto, here come the helicopters.

  "I don't know, but I'll go check." Fred pushed himself out of the chair. "Shot one." He mumbled to himself as he left. "Damn."

  Chickowski walked over to his desk and picked up the phone. He punched the intercom button and then, the number to the nursery.

  "Who's speaking?"

  "This is Mary, Dr. Chickowski. The children are all sleeping fine. No problems."

  "Good, Mary. Now I want you to listen very closely. It's very important you follow these instructions explicitly. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Doctor."

  "I want you to initiate Plan Evacuation. Mary, this is no drill. I know we never thought we'd need to do this, but we must get the children out of here within the hour. It's very important, Mary. Their lives are in danger here. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Doctor, but I thought only Dr. Franklin could give such an order."

  "Dr. Franklin has placed me in charge of this part of the evacuation. You are to follow my orders. It's okay, Mary. Just do as I say. We need to get the children to safety immediately."

  "Okay, Doctor. I'll have them ready in half an hour."

  "Great. I knew I could count on you." He hung up the phone and smiled. It's about time the loose management of this place started working in my favor, he thought.

  Denise pulled her head in from the window.

  "I think I can make it," she said as she turned to Bridgette.

  "You've got to know one way or the other, Denise. I won't let you climb out on the ledge just thinking you can make it. If something happened to you, I couldn't deal with all this by myself."

  Denise turned back to the window. She followed the imaginary pathway she had outlined down to the ground. It would work, she thought. If I can remember my high school gymnastics and concentrate on my balance, it'll work. She pulled herself back in again.

  "I can do it, no question."

  "Great. Now, there's just one more thing. We've got to figure out what to do once we get you out of here."

  "What do you mean? I'll go for help."

  "Yeah, but that could take too long. I'm afraid we won't have that much time. If Chickowski finds out you're missing, it'll be all over for the kids. I'm certain he won't hesitate to kill one or more of them for revenge. It's too risky."

  "What if I get out and sneak back in and phone for help?"

  "That might work, but what if he has the outside lines cut-off or monitored?"

  "But we've got to do something," Denise said in exasperation.

  "Yes, we do. Now we need to figure out what we can do that won't further jeopardize our children." There was a muffled sound from outside the door. "Quick, close the window. Someone's coming."

  Denise closed and locked the window just as the door opened. The guard held the door open, as one of the nurses pushed a cart of food into the room. The guard closed the door behind her. The nurse smiled at Denise and Bridgette and held a finger up to her lips.

  She walked over to the other side of the room, as far from the door as possible. Denise and Bridgette followed her.

  "I've got a message for you from Mary. She's the duty nurse this shift. First, all the nurses were amazed when they found out what Dr. Chickowski did to you. We don't agree with it, but there's nothing we can do. Mary told me to tell you the children are fine. They had a rough night last night, but they're fine now. She also wanted me to let you know Dr. Chickowski is getting ready to evacuate them from the premises. No one understands why. She thought you might want to know."

  "When is this going to happen?" Denise asked.

  "I don't know exactly, but I think it'll be soon."

  "Do you know how they're planning to get them out?"

  "Mary said she heard one of Chickowski's technicians talking to a van rental agency."

  "We've got to do something," Bridgette said. "If Chickowski gets the kids away from here, we'll never see them again."

  "Can you help us?" Denise asked. The nurse took a step back and lowered her eyes. "I don't know what's going on around here. I've only been working here for a couple of months. I can't afford to lose this job. If Dr. Chickowski caught me helping you..."

  "Okay, never mind. Just thank Mary for letting us know what's going on."

  The nurse finished taking the food off the cart and left.

  "Now what?" Denise asked as she walked back to the window and looked out.

  "Now we figure out some way to put a monkey wrench in Chickowski's plans." The two of them thought hard trying to come up with a plan, completely ignoring the food that had been left for them.

  Denise continued to stare out the window while Bridgette paced behind her. After several minutes, Denise broke the silence.

  "I think I know where to throw the monkey wrench. It just drove up."

  "What do you mean?" Bridgette asked as she joined her at the window.

  Denise pointed down to a blue van in the parking lot. The two women watched as the driver jumped out.

  "There's the van." Bridgette looked at Denise and smiled for the first time in days. "Shall we use your monkey wrench or mine?"

  "I think both of them would be appropriate," Denise replied as she hugged her friend. She opened the window and swung lightly out on the ledge. "Wish me luck. I'll be back within half an hour."

  She started inching her way along the ledge, then, stopped. "I've always wondered how many different ways there are to disable a car. I finally get the chance to find out."

  It had been a difficult night for Flip, as he reacted in his own way to the news that one of his children had been injured. Tabitha had delivered the message to the Kindred but Flip had felt the change in psychic energy as well. He had been unclear of its source until Tabitha informed him that Mel, his only son, had suffered a serious wound.

  How is he? He thought to Tabitha.

  She did not answer at once but Flip could feel the ominous mood preceding her thoughts. I don't know for sure, but for the first time in weeks, I can't feel his presence.

  He's not dead, is he? Flip asked before he thought what the statement might do to the others.

  I don't know, Tabitha replied.

  The Kindred had responded to the news with alarming ferocity, as though they were a great beast of prey that had just lost an appendage while doing battle. Perhaps the analogy was not far off, Flip thought. Maybe that is what we are, not each an individual, but just a small part of a greater whole.

  Flip couldn't dispel the feeling of loss and sadness. Had he lost his only son, before ever having the chance to see him? An interesting thought. He had never truly seen any of his children, although they each appeared in his mind very clearly. Except for his two strays. They were still too far away to know what they would look like. Now, it appeared that he might never know.

  And still,
in the back of his mind, underneath all of the grief, was a sliver of relief. He was ashamed of the feeling. So ashamed, he fought to keep it out of his mind, but still, it persisted. For deep inside, beyond what he would even admit to himself, Flip was relieved. Perhaps it was best for everyone that Mel had been killed. Perhaps the Kindred itself had been saved by the sacrifice. Maybe a cancerous filled appendage had been severed from the beast--a malignancy that needed to be surgically excised in order to save the rest of the animal. Maybe, just maybe, it was all for the best.

  Flip felt the tears pool in his eyes, and then, streak down the sides of his face. Strange to feel tears after all these years--strange to feel anything at all. Suddenly, it dawned on him, how strange it truly was. He'd had no true bodily sensations for over three years. Wait a minute. That wasn't true. He had felt something before. He remembered now.

  He'd opened his eyes once, hadn't he? It had not been a dream. He knew that now. He'd opened his eyes and had seen his room for the first time. And now, he was crying and feeling it. He was still alive, and not just his mind, but also his body.

  He had opened his eyes once -- and he'd do it again. Now. Now. Open them now!

  The light was blinding and life giving, all at the same time. The tears felt wet and warm on his face. A chuckle gurgled its way to the surface and broke from his lips, sounding like a cow regurgitating its cud.

  His eyes wandered around the room trying to take in every detail. It lasted for only a few seconds before he felt the black weariness rolling over him. He fought to maintain consciousness. Someone please, see me. I'm alive -- I'm awake. No one saw, and no one came. There was only the black tide rolling over him and in the distance, a muted pounding.

  The climb was more difficult than Denise imagined. From the security of the third-floor room, it had seemed like an easy task. Now, as she hung from the ledge trying to find the railing of the balcony below with her foot, she wondered what had possessed her to think so foolishly. Then, her foot touched the railing, and she started breathing again.

  Once on the balcony, she stood for a moment to let her heart rate catch up with itself. As she looked around, she realized the balcony was only a thin ledge with a railing, not useful for anything but esthetics. And, she had to admit, it made a nice temporary sanctuary for novice climbers. She tested the window in front of her in hope that someone had left it unlocked which would allow her to retire from the climbing business. She was not so lucky.

  She walked over to the edge and traced the pathway along the ledge of the second story, over to the overhang that protected the service entrance. Once there, she would lower herself down as far as possible, and then, drop onto the roof. That would be the most difficult part. If she lost her balance, she could fall from the overhang to the ground and break her leg or worse. She started to climb over the railing when something made her stop.

  She suddenly noticed a crack in the drapery that gave her a partial view into the room. As her eyes adjusted to the subdued lighting, she realized the room was a familiar one — one she'd been in many times before. It was Flip's room — but no. Flip's room had been on the first floor. Then, she remembered that Chickowski had moved Flip. Could this be Flip's new room?

  She strained to look closer at the form in the bed, shielding her eyes with her hand. Her breath caught in her throat. By God, it’s Flip. She was sure of it. She continued to study the familiar features of the man she loved, longing to reach out and caress his cheek as she had on her other visits. She felt the familiar pain in her chest she'd often felt on those visits. The old questions of "what if" arose again. What if I had asked Flip to stay, not to fly to Atlanta when we’d first met? What if I hadn’t played so coy?

  She shook herself from those thoughts. What if you'd been born a boy was the question her mother had always asked her. We'd have to rename you Dennie instead of Denise. How'd you like to go through life with such a name? Be glad for what is and don't worry about what could have been because if it could have been, it would have been. Denise smiled, as she remembered her mother's wisdom. She started back to the ledge, but as she started to look away, she noticed a strange glitter around Flip's eyes.

  Were those tears she saw? No, they couldn't be. She placed both hands against the window so she could see more clearly.

  They were tears! Somehow, Flip was crying. She'd never seen or heard of such a thing. She continued to watch intently. A flutter. Wasn't that a flutter of his eyelashes? No, she thought, I'm making things up now, but she continued to watch.

  Then it happened. Before she knew what was happening, Flip’s eyes opened -- those beautiful eyes that had captured her heart from the first moment she saw him. His eyes were open after being closed for so very long. The scene didn't last long, perhaps no more than fifteen seconds, but during those moments, Denise’s world stopped. All the possibilities, that had become impossibilities on the night of the shooting now, returned fresh, renewed. If Flip could open his eyes and cry, what else was possible? Anything…everything.

  The eyes fluttered again, then, slowly closed. As they did, Denise realized Flip was drifting off again. No, not yet Flip. Stay with me for a while and dream with me. She found herself slapping at the glass with both of her hands, despite the need to be quiet. She didn't care. Flip was inside, and he needed her. He needed to know she was there for him — but it was too late. Already, the dark wave of unconsciousness had reclaimed him.

  Breakdown

  Lionel sat in the back seat of the cruiser, next to Alp. How long would she sit there staring out the window, he wondered. Probably for days, if we let her. The last few days had no doubt, been very traumatic for her. First seeing her mother brutally killed by her brother and then, losing him only a few hours later. It was too much to expect anyone to take, much less a little girl – special gifts or not.

  He reached over and patted her hand. "A penny for your thoughts." It was all he could think of to say.

  She didn't respond at first but continued to stare unfocused out into space. After a moment, she glanced over at him as though realizing where she was for the first time.

  "Oh, I was just thinking about how I expected this trip was going to be; what it would be like to see my sisters, and how much this isn't like what I thought it would be. Mel and I were going to have this beautiful trip in a big plane. We were going to free our sisters and run away to some private island, where we wouldn't have to worry about what people thought of us. Where we could be free just to be who and what we are."

  A pair of tears stained her cheeks. "But now, Mel is gone, and I'm being thrown in the same cage that I was going to free my sisters from. And, we'll continue to be looked at as though we're freaks."

  Lionel felt his own chest tighten as she spoke. What in the world were they doing to these kids? Why had he allowed himself to become a part of this atrocity? Didn't they have the same rights as everyone else? The questions haunted him, but the most difficult one of all was what was he going to do about it.

  He reached out and patted her hand again. ''It won't be as bad as you think. You won't be kept in a cage at all. In fact, you'll have a very nice nursery with lots of toys to play with and lots of people who love you." His words sounded like someone beating on an empty oil drum.

  "We'll be at the center in less than an hour. You'll see. It's not so bad." Alp moved her hand away and placed it in her lap. She leaned her head against the car window and stared into nothingness.

  "What do you mean, the van won't start?" Chickowski screamed at the top of his lungs. ''It has to start. We need to get these damn kids out of here now!" He shouted; his red face only inches from Fred's.

  Fred's jaw muscles flexed spasmodically, as he fought to maintain control. "I don't know what happened. It ran perfectly fine on the way over here, but just now, I went to move it closer to the door, and it won't start. Hell, I'm a lab tech, not an auto mechanic."

  Chickowski turned and looked at the only other person in the room.

  "How a
bout you? You know anything about cars?"

  Barry nodded. "Yeah, I know a little. Do you want me to take a look?"

  "No, no, that won't be necessary. Why don't you just stand there with your thumb up you ass? Of course, I want you to take a look. Now!"

  The two technicians turned to the door, thankful for an opportunity to escape. "And let me know something within ten minutes. We need that van running."

  Chickowski continued to pace the lab fighting to calm down. No word from Brown and now, his alternative plan was running afoul. He turned to the intercom on his desk and punched the button for his secretary.

  "Call down to the nursery, let them know there has been a delay and find out if the children are all still asleep. Then, find the nearest rental place that rents vans and see how quickly they can get one out here."

  "Yes, Dr. Chickowski. Do you want me to have the nurses take the jackets off the children while they wait?"

  "Of course not," Chickowski snapped. Then, realizing how he sounded, added in a calmer voice, "We can't take the chance that they'll react violently to the move and injure themselves."

  Chickowski sat at his desk and thumped his pencil against it. Could one of the children have awoken and done something to the van? Were their powers so strong they could do something like this even in their sleep? How in the hell am I going to control them if that's true?

  He flipped the pencil into the trashcan. He didn't know how, but he'd find a way. He'd be damned if some snot-nosed little brats would get the best of him. He decided to walk down to the nursery and check on the Kindred himself.

  Denise crouched behind a prickly shrub next to the rear entrance of the building. She had just watched Fred storm through the doors, after trying unsuccessfully to start the van. I make a pretty good saboteur, she thought, but now what do I do? She was free, at least for the moment. Why would she want to go back up to that tiny room and play hostage again? I could go for help and be back before anyone notices I've left. Or, maybe I could find Mary or one of the other nurses and explain what’s happening. Surely, they would help me.