by Nathan Wall
“Did you hear that?” Austin asked.
“Hear what?” Christian looked at Travis and the two shrugged. The door to the room slid open, and sure enough, two men with guns at their sides stood waiting. Christian took a step forward, but Austin pulled him back.
“You two stay,” he said, nodding at Jarrod. “They just want to talk to us.”
“We'll keep you informed,” Jarrod added.
“Sure thing.” Travis looked away, his eyes wide with relief.
Jarrod and Austin followed the two men to an elevator. It opened and the guards motioned them into the lift, but didn't follow. The doors slid shut and the elevator descended even further into the ground. The two friends looked at each other closely and then cast their weary gazes at the doors. The elevator reached the bottom. Austin stepped out first and looked around. Sanderson, Lian, Jackson, Hershiser, Dr. Shah, Elliot, and his two psychic guards waited for them.
“Is this the inquisition?” Jarrod said under his breath. The two walked side-by-side to a crescent shaped table and sat down. Elliot nodded at Sanderson and walked into the middle of the floor, flanked on three sides by the table.
“You two are here because you fit a mold we are looking for,” he said, pacing back and forth with a clicker in his hand. He pushed a button on the clicker and the lights dimmed. A projector came on, casting an image on the wall across from Jarrod. “The Aberration Force, which we are all a part of, has been tasked with the job of global intelligence and national security. What started off as a branch of the CIA was quickly sectioned off on its own when certain instances became too big and grand to be kept in the hands of individuals not properly trained for such things.”
“Instances?” Jarrod asked.
“Encounters with the paranormal, Mr. Ryan,” Sanderson replied, looking down at Jarrod’s folder. His finger tapped on Jarrod's picture and recruitment papers and then shuffled through the sparse information about his juvenile years.
Something familiar about this guy, Sanderson thought.
“After the Second World War was over, American forces uncovered all sorts of research done by the Nazis. It was written off as mostly nonsense as rumors of Hitler's madness and desperation to win the war was pretty much common knowledge by the end of 1945. However, by the time the Cold War geared up in full swing in the sixties, we realized the research we locked away was something that should be used to our benefit.” Elliot flicked the clicker again and images of soldiers being ripped apart and set ablaze in the jungles of Asia appeared on the screen. “The Nazis ran tests in their concentration camps on people believed to have exceptional abilities, like Lian here. They attempted to contact spirits, but they believed their message was lost. It wasn't, it just took longer than they expected to get a reply.”
More images of floating specters, beasts with wings, large one-eyed men, and the like populated the screen. The pictures were from all over the world. Monsters swimming in lakes, hairy beasts walking through a forest. Sightings and sounds written off by the masses as nothing more than hoaxes were being paraded on the screen as truth.
“You're saying Bigfoot didn't exist until the Nazis created him?” Austin sighed, rubbing his temples and trying not to laugh.
“No. I am saying he was either hibernating or hiding in another version of reality until someone unlocked the door,” Elliot replied.
“Reality is not a single line floating in space,” Lian interrupted. “It is a bendable string circling around, touching in spots, allowing things to coexist and occupy the same space. When you knock on the door hard enough and mess with things you can't understand, you move the string in another direction.”
“Lian, that's enough,” Sanderson grunted, glaring at her and causing her to shrink down on the bench behind him.
“Yeah, look, I was going to go to college on a baseball scholarship, not because I am an expert in Astrophysics.” Austin sat forward and looked at Sanderson.
“Has nothing to do with Astrophysics,” Lian said under her breath, rolling her eyes.
“What I want to know is what it has to do with Jarrod and me.” He pointed his finger into the table, looking at his friend before turning his attention back to Elliot. “This special project that only he and I are suited for and not our two friends.”
“Shah, go ahead,” Sanderson granted. He couldn't keep from staring at Jarrod. He'd seen this young man before. He just knew it.
“A little over fourteen years ago, Drs. Sanderson and Foster here developed a process which enhanced physical characteristics in certain qualified individuals. Individuals such as yourselves.” He took the clicker from Elliot and inserted his own mini-disc into it. “The process was based off of previous theories Dr. Sanderson—”
“—They don't need to hear any of that, Shah,” Sanderson interjected.
“I think it's quite interesting to hear about,” Elliot whispered to Sanderson.
“We've been over this.” He swallowed, pausing for a second to glance at Elliot. “That research is long gone.”
“I wouldn't be too sure about that,” Elliot turned and said to himself.
“Well, long story short, what we have now is called the Double-Helix Project,” Shah continued while Elliot and Sanderson bantered back and forth. “It's the process of modifying your DNA structure and enhancing it by injecting samples from a catalyst. It's the similarities between your DNA structure and that of the samples we give you that allow for the process to work. The end result is what you see in Jackson here. Simply put, the weapons he can use only identify with certain sequences within his DNA, which we intend to replicate in you.”
“Why us and not Travis and Christian?” Jarrod asked.
“Over the course of several millennia, DNA structures have varied greatly through micro-evolutions, putting distance between once closely related sections of the population,” Shah replied. On the screen, a map of the world appeared. It quickly changed colors, showing the different patterns of migration and growth of population of the planet over several thousand years. “One thing determined was that we did indeed all spring from one woman. But just like the fact explorers from Europe brought diseases that wiped out hordes of Native Americans of the New World, it's become obvious not all groups of people evolved at the same rate. You guys are a match because your structure is not as far removed from that of the catalyst as most people would be.”
“Great. So you're saying we're from the shallow end of the evolutionary pool,” Jarrod laughed. “Fantastic.”
“In this instance, Jarrod,” Elliot interjected, “it's actually a good thing to be as pure as you guys are.”
“He just called you pure.” Austin nudged Jarrod. “That's gotta be a first.”
“If you weren't as close of a match as you are, then the Double-Helix process wouldn't work,” Shah continued, “and you wouldn't be able to do the things Jackson does. You wouldn't be able to help in our battle against terrorism and the supernatural the way he can.”
“What are the drawbacks?” Austin prompted.
“There are none.” Elliot sat forward, but was cut off.
“You'll still talk like you, think like you, and act like you, but you won't be you.” Sanderson stood and lit a cigar. An Oscuro. “We are modifying you to be better. You won't get sick as easily, you'll be stronger, faster, more cognizant, but on average every two months you'll need another dose. We're going to be telling your bodies to reject everything they've learned so far—to reject thousands of years of evolutionary advantages to afford it. We're wiping the slate clean and without constant doses to keep you refreshed, your body will start to feel the effects of a clean slate. The DNA upload from the Double-Helix process isn't permanent.”
“Your body is like a computer performing functions outlined by a code in your DNA. We'll be wiping that code clean,” Shah added. “With no code or procedure running it, a computer stops working. The anti-malware and computer virus protection uploaded through evolution will also be gone. Your bo
dy will reach a stagnant state.”
“So become a slave to this program for the rest our lives? No thanks.” Austin stood and walked away from the chair.
“Surely, Mr. Hanigan, someone who has gone through the experiences you have is sure to understand the need for this to be done.” Sanderson walked over to Austin and stood toe-to-toe with him. “You have a chance to help make sure no one else's parents are murdered at the hand of a terrorist-incited crowd.”
“So that's why you picked us?” Austin shook his head, looking at Jarrod before glaring at Sanderson. “Because I have nothing to go back to and he won’t let me do it alone. Is that it?”
“This choice isn't for someone with a life calling them home. It's true.”
“What about you, Jarrod?” Elliot sat forward, rubbing his hands together. “I can see the wheels spinning in your brain.”
Lian tilted her head, trying to figure out more about this Jarrod guy. She closed her eyes and tried to see into his mind, but couldn't get anywhere specific. Instead, she went to a thousand places at once as if she was scanning the memories of other people and not his. Her heart rate quickened as her stomach turned upside down, wondering why.
“I don't know,” he replied.
“What do you mean you don't know?” Austin slammed the table.
“I mean I don't know,” Jarrod snapped back. “It'd be a chance to do something big.”
“And what about Aunt Olivia and Claire? What about them? There is no walking away from this project for that life again when you change your mind and fade away in two months.” Austin let out a stressed laugh. “Way to think of someone else—”
“—I've always thought about someone else.” Jarrod stood and walked out of the room.
“We'll let you boys stew on it for a while.” Sanderson put the cigar into his mouth, snapping his fingers for Lian to follow him out.
“There are other options.” Hershiser approached Austin. “They don't get too mad at you if you decide this isn't the path for you. A lot of guys actually have the same reaction. I was one of them.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Actually, Jackson and I were both prepped for the program at the same time. We were friends much like you and Jarrod. Neither one of us wanted to do it.” Hershiser put his hand on Austin's back and led him out of the room. “There is always a position open on one of the sector squads. I'll need more men for my unit. I'd love to have you guys.”
“You said Jackson rejected the program at first. What happened?”
“Oreios happened.” The elevator opened and they both got in. “He took away all the reasons for Jackson to reject the program.”
* * *
“Sanderson, I have to talk to you,” Lian said, trying to keep pace with him. “Can you please stop for a second?”
“Not now, Lian. I have to go find something.”
“Bill, will you stop?” She stomped her foot in frustration and Sanderson stopped in his tracks. Relenting, he turned around. She continued. “It's time to stop the program. If these two guys are the ones you need in order to keep it going, then you just have to stop. You can't use them.”
“I know,” he sighed, continuing his march.
“Wait, what?” She sped up to walk alongside him. “You didn't even let me tell you why.”
“I'm not recommending the Ryan kid for the program, and the Hanigan kid won't accept it.” He scanned his hand over the keypad in front of his door. The two sides slid open. “I don't know how they did it, but they found a way to end the program for good.”
“Wait, I'm confused...?”
“Remember when I said life is just a series of decisions that other people make for you?” He looked at her from behind his desk, continuing to rummage through old files. She nodded. “Well, this is one of those instances.”
“Do you even want to know why I am agreeing with you?” She tilted her head, puzzled, and put her hands to her side. “Quite frankly I am a bit taken aback here. You've never agreed with me on anything. This is weird. I don't know if I like it.”
“You're rambling.”
“Yes, sorry, I'll get on with it.” She stood rigidly, straightening her clothes. “The Ryan guy. He's... I don't know how to explain it, but I can't see in him. Like with you, when I can tell you're about to slam a stack of six files on your desk, rummage through a few, and then take some out and shred them.”
Sanderson completed the tasks she just said in order and rolled his eyes at her.
“Sorry.” She took two steps forward and continued. “When I looked in him, I don't know what I was seeing. It was like he had memories he couldn't possibly have. And the strange thing is he doesn't know he has them. Someone has been in his head before and they've done a hell of a job putting barriers up... but they're coming down and he doesn't know it.”
“Lian, things are going to get out of hand here very quickly. I need to know you're ready for what's coming.” He walked around the desk and started rubbing her arms. “I know it didn’t seem like it, but I've been prepping you for this for a long time. And I know you've snooped around in my head and you've seen what is really down below. You're the second strongest psychic I've ever seen. You need to keep people out of my head.”
“I will.” She looked at his shoes and smiled. She slowly lifted her face and looked at him. “Who was the strongest?”
He just looked at her, not acknowledging the question. Deep down, she already knew the answer. She'd seen it before when his nightmares got so bad that they bled over into her dreams. She turned around and shut the door to his office.
* * *
Sixteen Years Ago
My heart is broken, a middle aged woman wrote. She could barely apply enough pressure to the pen in order to keep it on the piece of notebook paper. She looked up at the boy, who was running in the snow with his arms spread wide and face lifted toward the sky, wondering why she was writing this. Who was it for?
It is broken because thousands, millions, maybe even all of us, will most certainly face death, but it's the right thing to do to preserve innocence. That's why I did it in the first place. That's why I agreed to bring this sweet, unassuming, long lost shadow of the past back to life.
She looked back up at the boy who did not yet own a real name, and smiled out of the side of her mouth. He dropped into a large pile of snow and started swaying his arms and legs back and forth.
How appropriate. She thought of the image he was creating in the frozen white powder.
I agreed to carry this reinvention because I believed in the ideals we originally adhered to. I was wrong. I thought this child would be a beacon of hope. A way in which all disease, sickness, and heartache could be purged from the face of the Earth. I'll say it again, I was wrong.
The boy sat up, giggling and smiling ear to ear as he waved at her. She waved back and giggled along with him while he ran around the park. The animals, which were previously stowed away for the winter, meandered out of their homes to take a closer look at the boy. She thought of how they couldn't help but be drawn to him. She turned her attention back to the paper.
I know now what we did, but I can't say for certain I would change it if given the chance to go back and have a do-over. Maybe that's a bit selfish. Maybe I'm letting the fact that I could never conceive naturally cloud my judgment. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I believe this boy should still be given a chance. He has yet to do the things I have seen. Maybe, with the right amount of love and guidance, things could change.
I can tell the boy feels things at work that he's still too young to comprehend. The nightmares, what he understands them to be, are happening, have happened, and have yet to come. Perhaps I'm delusional, but I think the events yet to pass aren't the only ones he can touch. Then again, I've admittedly been wrong before.
“No,” the boy screamed, falling to his knees and hiding his face behind the hood of his jacket.
She stood from the park bench and ran to his side. As she got c
loser she slowed her pace. The scene which caused him to cry out played out again in the form of visions in her head. It was a gift she passed onto the boy—or so she believed. It was something her husband said wouldn't be possible.
“I didn't mean to,” he said, sobbing through his hands, spreading his fingers just enough to catch a glimpse of her wide-eyed and pale-faced gasp. The veins in his arms and neck shimmered with blue light.
“It's ok.” She slowly stepped toward him. The dead people and animals were sprawled out in a circular contour, almost as if they fell over in their tracks. She wrapped her arms around his chest and placed her right hand over his heart. It felt like it was trying to push out from behind his rib cage. She tickled him with the tips of her fingers and he slowly relaxed, sinking back into her grasp.
The people in the park who heard the scream looked on in disbelief. The crowd grew larger. Their whispers picked up momentum. This wasn't the fresh start she was looking for. Their journey would have to continue. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and the people went about their business, their minds completely unaware of their presence and of everything that had happened.
She picked the boy up, clutching him in her arms with his head resting on her left shoulder, and started walking through the busy crowd, passing through them, undetected by their eyes and touch.
* * *
Jarrod wandered through the halls of the underground complex, scouting out all the rooms and checking to see what sort of mischief he could get into. As he approached the end of one of the many corridors, an elevator slid open. He stood for a second, debating whether or not he should get on or head back the direction he came. The voices of everyone he knew told him all about curiosity and what it did to the cat, but he couldn't resist.
Once inside, the doors slid shut and the elevator moved in a backward direction, not up or down. It slowly came to a stop and Jarrod turned as the doors behind him opened. He stepped into a large cavernous room. The lights came on one by one as he walked further inside.
