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

by Orrin Jason Bradford

  She stared at her sisters with a look of determination on her face like she could will their hands up, but if that’s what she was trying, her powers didn’t work on them. Only Tina raised her hand.

  “The island doesn’t sound like it would be much fun to me either. I mean, I could go either way, but you know me. I like those modern conveniences. It sounds like a lot more fun on the mainland. Maybe we can find somewhere that’s safe and a little less simple.”

  “Okay, everyone else? Who feels it’s best to accept Damba’s invitation and head to Geluk?” Mia asked as she raised her hand. Heather slowly raised hers, then Kim and last of all, Connie.

  “I’m assuming you’re also for going to the island,” Mia said to Alp who nodded, “So that makes five for continuing to the island and three no’s. The island it is.”

  Tabitha opened her mouth, prepared to protest, but then, looking around at her sisters, closed it. Clearly, she was outvoted this time.

  “Listen, this island is a godsend,” Alp said with more enthusiasm than she felt. “It doesn’t have to be a permanent situation, but at least it will give us a safe place where we can plan our next step.”

  “What happens if this chieftain father of Damba’s refuses to let us stay?” Kirstin asked.

  There was a long pause as everyone looked at each other. Finally Mia replied, “Well, we’ll just have to win him over with our glowing personalities.”

  Lionel approached the hospital room where Dr. Chickowski lay in bed recovering from the gunshot to his leg. As he gazed around at the sterile environment, he wondered if the same interior designer that had designed BVT had received the contract for the hospital as well. The gray walls and checkered floors were suspiciously similar. He was glad he had had Franklin call ahead to clear the visit with the police officer who guarded Chickowski’s door. The police officer towered over Lionel, who was a good six feet tall himself. Did all the law enforcement agents come maxi-sized these days, he wondered as he showed his driver’s license to the officer to verify his identity.

  “How’s he doing?” Lionel asked as much to make conversation as anything.

  “About as well as you’d expect from someone who’s been shot in the leg with a 44-Magnum. He’s lucky he still has his leg. It really did a number on him.”

  Lionel nodded as he put his license back in his pocket. The officer opened the door. “Hey, C, you’ve got a visitor.”

  Lionel walked into the room to find Chickowski trying to sit up in bed. Evidently he’d been napping. His right leg was raised above him in a pulley system in an effort to reduce the swelling. The middle-aged doctor looked clearly uncomfortable. Good for him, Lionel thought. Serves him right for trying to kidnap the kids.

  “How are you feeling?” Lionel asked, unsure what else to say to break the ice.

  Recognizing who’d come to visit him, Dr. Chickowski looked away. “What do you want? Did you come to gloat? Well, gloat away. I’m miserable and in pain. The food here is horrendous, and that jerk-off outside is the biggest bore I’ve ever met. On top of that, all my nurses must have been Gestapo agents in a past life.”

  Not caring one iota about Dr. Chickowski’s condition and not wanting to listen to any more of his complaining, Lionel decided to get right to the point.

  “Where is it?” He asked, walking around the bed to be sure he could see Chickowski’s face as he asked the question. He inadvertently bumped the bed and was pleased to see Chickowski squint in pain.

  “Where is what?” Chickowski replied. “And how about not bumping the bed. My leg really hurts.”

  “Not a problem,” Lionel replied as he bumped the bed again. “Just tell me where you hid the template and I’ll leave you in peace.”

  Chickowski glared at him but continued to play ignorant. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. I don’t have your damn template, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you where I hid it.”

  “Okay,” Lionel said. He suddenly felt very angry; not only angry but also mean. This asshole had made his life hell over the past several months, not to mention that it was his fault the kids who’d Lionel had grown to love, were now missing.

  “I have nowhere to go today, so I’m just going to sit here and keep my old friend company.” As he said it, he jumped up on the edge of the bed, jostling it even more.

  “Holy shit, cut that out!” Chickowski swore. He turned in bed trying to find the call button. Lionel jumped off the bed and grabbed the button before Chickowski could reach it.

  “I’ve already told my friend out there not to let anyone else enter, not even the nurses or doctors. Not until you tell me what I want to know.”

  Chickowski stared at him for several seconds before replying. “Tell you what. You get me out of here, and I’ll tell you everything I know about your damn template.”

  Lionel considered his offer for a moment before replying. “That sounds like a perfectly fair negotiation…that is if you were in any position to negotiate, but you’re not.” He slapped Chickowski’s injured leg for emphasis and waited until the man stopped screaming to continue.

  “You’re not leaving here until you’re well enough to stand trial, at which time you’ll be convicted of several counts of attempted kidnapping. They’re then going to put you away in a maximum security prison where I’m sure many of the inmates will enjoy getting to know you quite intimately.” He paused to let his words sink in.

  “That is unless I intervene. I may be able to get you sent to a less secure facility where you won’t be with such hardened criminals. That’s about the best I can offer, and it’s a now or never offer. If I walk out that door, the offer is off the table, and I’ll see to it you’re sent to the worse hellhole of a prison. So, it’s your choice. You have until I make it to that door to decide.”

  With that, he turned and started walking slowly to the door. His hand was just inches from the door handle when Chickowski spoke up.

  “I tell you I don’t have the template. I really don’t,” he whined.

  Lionel paused for a moment, then started to place his hand on the knob again.

  “But I know who has it.”

  Lionel paused again and turned.

  “And who is that?”

  “You promise to put in a good word for me?” Chickowski pleaded.

  “Yeah, I’ll do what I can,” Lionel said. “Who has the template?”

  Chickowski took a deep breath before replying. “Franklin. It has to be him. I found him in your lab late one night. When I opened the door, he looked like the cat who’d eaten the canary, but he couldn’t explain what he’d been doing there. Said he was looking for you, but it was after twelve midnight. It didn’t make sense to me then, but it does now. He must have taken it.”

  As the fishing trawler drew closer to the island of Geluk, the haziness of the horizon grew into a dark cloud cover that threatened rain. The wind picked up, and Alp could feel the air temperature start to drop.

  “Oh no, looks like another storm,” Alp said as she stood on the deck next to Damba.

  “Yes, you would think so, wouldn’t you?”

  Alp glanced at her companion. “What’s that supposed to mean? Can’t you see those dark clouds?”

  Just as she spoke, the clouds were illuminated by a flash of lightning from within them.

  “Yes, I see them,” Damba replied with a chuckle. “I just happen to know they aren’t real?”

  “Not real?” Alp said. “Oh…more juju?”

  Damba nodded. “I’m afraid that’s not all the juju you’re likely to experience. You might want to go let your sisters, uh friends, know that they’re probably going start feeling strange any minute now.”

  Alp stared at Damba, wondering if he was making a joke. Before she could ask him to explain further, she had a sudden bout of vertigo like the ship was suddenly spinning on its axis. She started to take a step towards the stairwell leading down to the storage room and almost fell over.

  “Seems we’re a little t
oo late,” Damba said as he caught Alp to keep her from falling. As his hands touched her waist, Alp felt a second sensation, almost as strong as the vertigo and not all that dissimilar. Where his hands touched, she felt a spark of energy that was both exciting and unnerving. Everything stopped like a cosmic pause button had been pressed, then after some unknown length of time, everything sped up again as though to catch itself up to the present.

  Damba helped Alp to return to the railing. As soon as she grasped the railing, he released her and leaped away. “You hold on here, and I’ll go check on the others,” he said. As he turned to leave, he looked over his shoulder. “And don’t worry, it’ll pass in a few minutes, or at least I think it will.”

  Alp groaned. Seasickness had been bad but nothing like this. She felt like the world was turning topsy-turvy. And what had that other sensation been when Damba had touched her? Had Damba felt it as well? That sensation, well, she could probably get used to that one, she thought.

  By the time Damba returned a few minutes later, Alp was beginning to feel a little more like herself. “How is everyone,” she asked?

  “Boy, that Tabitha is quite a complainer, isn’t she?” Damba replied, shaking his head. “Other than I thought she was going to take my head off, everyone is coping. How do you feel?”

  “Better. I think it’s passing. What is it?”

  Damba looked out in the direction of his home. “Over the years, our shamans have developed various ways to dissuade people from entering these waters. Being from the island, I’ve never experienced it myself, but I’ve been told it’s quite effective.”

  “I’ll say,” Alp replied. “If I was on another boat and suddenly felt that, I’d be turning back towards the mainland fast.”

  Damba nodded. “It has worked for many years to keep us hidden from the world. Unfortunately, that has also kept us isolated. I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

  Alp was about to ask him what he meant by this when he stood a little straighter as he leaned against the railing and pointed. “There…you can just start to see the island now.”

  Out of the fog and hazy mist appeared a form, nebulous at first looking more like an amorphous mass but growing in details as they closed the distance between them. It was larger than Alp had imagined it would be and loomed out of the ocean like a huge iceberg with smooth edges. As they continued to sail towards it, the outline of palm trees mixed with various kinds of scrub pines started to appear.

  “Just exactly how large is this island of yours?” Alp said, in awe by the sight before her.

  Damba shrugged. “Not sure exactly. I'd estimate it's several miles long by a couple miles across. Large enough, I guess, but tiny compared to the rest of the world. These last few years it’s felt…well, small and confining, though I guess if you’re seeing it for the first time you might not have that impression.”

  He turned to Alp. “As a member of the Geluk tribe, I welcome you and your sisters to our island.”

  Not quite knowing what else to do to acknowledge his welcome, Alp half bowed and curtsied. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Now, I must ask you to return to your sisters and for everyone to stay below until I come for you.”

  “What will you be doing during that time?” Alp asked.

  “Practicing the fine art of persuasion,” Damba replied. “It may take a while but I’ll make sure you are provided with food and water and a way to relieve yourself in the meantime.”

  This last comment stopped Alp in her tracks. As she turned, she asked, “Just how long is this going to take?”

  Damba shrugged his muscular shoulders. “I have no idea.”

  Chunk's Meeting

  Andrea pushed the school door open with one shoulder while holding her younger sister’s hand. She was tall for ten with large bones much like her father. Even though she was only two years older than her sister, most people thought she was much older. The black skirt and sweater over the beige blouse that was required wear at the school only made her look that much older, even though, her sister was also forced to wear the same uniform.

  “Come on slow poke. Momma is probably waiting for us already.”

  Misha yanked at her sister’s hand, trying unsuccessfully to pull away from the larger girl’s grip. “Let go. I can make it without you pulling my arm off.”

  The lighter complexion of her hand and arms contrasted sharply with her sisters dark skin. Andrea ignored her as she pulled her sister along. Once out on the steps of the school, she stopped and looked around. Already the customary line of cars arriving to pick up other children were gone as were the school buses. She knew she’d be late if she met her friends after school, but the gossip they had to share was just too rich to not take a chance. Now she would pay for it big time. Maybe she could blame their tardiness on Misha. It was worth a try though she doubted her mom would believe her, and for sure Misha would make her pay big time later for the lie.

  But something was wrong, Andrea realized as she looked around. There was no sign of the dark green Prius her mom drove. They might be late, but mommy dearest was even later.

  “See, I told you we didn’t have to hurry,” Misha said, successfully yanking her hand out of her sister’s grasp this time. “Don’t you remember, Mom said she had a meeting with her volunteer group that might run late. We’re to stay at the playground until she arrives.”

  “All right, all right. You don’t have to rub it in Miss Know-it-all. Let’s go over to the swings where we can sit and still see when she drives up.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. At least she’d not be in trouble, but she’d have to let her mom have it for leaving them alone at school. How many times had her mom lectured them about the dangers that lurked in every corner of the world?

  “I know we live in a nice quiet community. Just the type place you’d never expect anything bad to happen…just like Sandy Hook or Columbine,” her mom had said more than once. Of course, her mom hadn’t bothered to explain anything about either location. Andrea had to look the names up herself on the internet. Afterward, she’d had nightmares for weeks.

  But still, the playground seemed to be safe enough. It was fenced in and well within sight of the school building, and besides, she enjoyed swinging. It was one of the few things that she and her sister could do together that they both enjoyed.

  “Race you over there,” she shouted over her shoulder after she’d made sure to get a head start. Misha might be two years younger and several inches shorter, but she was quick as the dickens for an eight-year-old especially over short distances. The two black girls ran to the line of swings just inside the playground with Andrea winning by only a foot or two.

  “No fair, you cheated,” Misha whined.

  “Did not,” Andrea said, then seeing Misha was about to cry, added. “Okay, it was a tie.”

  Misha’s face brightened. “I would have beat you if you’d played fair.”

  Andrea opened her mouth to argue then stopped. No telling how long they’d be here by themselves. No need to start an argument over such a small matter.

  “Okay, okay. Do you want me to give you a push?”

  “No, I can do it myself.” Misha jumped on the swing seat; her legs just barely touching the ground. Stretching out her legs, she kicked off then leaned back to get as much leverage as possible. In no time, she was making a large arch through the air.

  The two girls continued to swing for several minutes until they finally grew tired, and then continued to sit together making small patterns in the dirt with their feet. Neither of them saw the young man until he spoke.

  “You two really know how to swing.” His voice was soft, almost melodic, but even so it caught both girls by surprise. Their heads jerked up at the sound.

  “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. You’re Andrea and Misha Robinson aren’t you? Boy, you two have really grown since the last time I saw you. Guess it’s been a couple years at least.”

  Andrea stared at him suspi
ciously. She didn’t recognize him. He looked to be about twelve or thirteen, maybe a little older. His hair was jet black, and his complexion was light, even for a white man. Pale like he’d been out of the sun most of his life. But the most noticeable feature was a scar on the left side of his face.

  “We’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” Andrea said as she moved a little closer to her sister.

  “Silly, he just said he’d seen us a couple years ago,” Misha countered. “You must be a friend of our dad, right? He’s away on a business trip…a long one,” she added with a look of longing growing on her face.

  “Misha! Quiet. We don’t know who he is,” Andrea warned.

  “But she’s right you know,” the boy replied. “I met you back shortly before your father took that job, don’t you remember?”

  Andrea shook her head but didn’t say anything. Come on Mom, hurry up and get here. Suddenly, the memories of nights when her mom had shared stories about children being stolen away from their families, stories that had filled her with horrendous images, flashed through her mind.

  She was about to tell Misha to follow her back to the school when she saw the green Prius turn the corner. She jumped up from the swing, grabbing her book bag in one hand and her sister with the other.

  “It’s mom,” she yelled as she pulled her sister away.

  “So it is,” the man replied nonplused by the proclamation.

  “I’ll walk with you. It’ll be good to see your mother again.”

  Without waiting for him, Andrea and Misha ran on ahead, the boy following close behind. As they reached the car, Andrea opened the back door behind her mother’s seat, and the two girls jumped in. Andrea reached over Misha and locked the door, then noticed that her mom’s window was half way down.

  Before she could say anything, the boy was beside the car and leaning to look into the window.

  “Hello, Mrs. Chunk. It’s good to see you. Even better to spend time with your kids. Please, tell Chunk I said hi next time you talk to him. Tell him to hurry home. He’s needed here.” And with that, he turned and walked away, humming a tuneless song as he went.