Bad Jack ((Ascension: Book 1))

by Adam Moon

  The door before them slid open. For a fraction of a second Jack wished he could go back and tell Mr. Humboldt that he wasn’t interested. He wished he could take back the bitter words he’d spewed at his boss over the phone. Walking through this door felt like walking into another life and it scared the hell out of him. Billy took a tentative step through the doorway with Jack following close behind.

  Chapter 4: No Going Back

  Anticlimax was the word that came to mind. When they walked into the room it turned out to be a windowless (of course it was, it was underground) warehouse lined with shelves for inventory but most of them were empty. Some of the lower shelves contained crates but the top ones were unused and caked with dust.

  A stocky guy in military uniform with a tight lipped smile and dark, beady eyes approached them. He was about forty years old and half a head shorter than Jack, but made up for it with an air of dignity and self-assuredness.

  He extended his beefy hand. “I’m General Marks but you can call me Dave. Welcome.” He took Jack’s hand and gave it two quick firm pumps. He acknowledged Billy with a nod. “It’s good to see you William. I recommended you for this promotion personally.”

  Billy smiled and thanked him for the opportunity. General Marks beckoned them toward a shelf of inventory and Jack deflated. This was not what he’d expected at all. What could possibly be inside a crate that would warrant the attention of a psychology major? It surely wasn’t a live human subject. Maybe it was stuffed with dossiers on criminal sociopaths. In that case they should have just sent him copies.

  The General halted mid-stride and turned to face them. “I think you should know why you were chosen before I show you what we have here. We chose each of you because you have no ties to anyone outside this facility. Jack, I understand your parents and sister died in a car accident and you have no current personal ties. William’s circumstances were similar before we brought him in. You are both perfectly suited for this work.” To Jack he said, “If you breach the trust we insist upon, you’ll be executed without trial. I hope you understand this fully.”

  He let the malevolence of the threat hang in the air like a swarm of angry hornets. Jack’s mouth flopped open and approximations of half formed words rolled off his tongue. His mind was doing back flips. The General smiled cruelly at his dumbfounded display.

  “I’m glad you understand the severity of the situation. William has lived under these conditions for two months without incident. Don’t be alarmed by the threat, just take it seriously.”

  Jack’s speech center returned with renewed vigor. “Fuck this, I want out.”

  The General inhaled deeply and said with mock sadness, “It’s too late for that now, son.”

  Jack looked around for an escape route but Billy put his hand on his shoulder and said, “From what I hear this place is totally worth it.”

  Jack instantly melted. That tiny bit of reassurance was all he needed. He hadn’t had much to live for since Samantha had left him last year for a door to door salesman. The guy who stole the love of his life sold cat beds for a living. What a fuckin’ joke. He didn’t have any friends or family left, and his only hobby was his stupid blog that had sent him into bouts of depression on more than one occasion. No one even read it. All the hits on the counter were from him constantly checking to see how many hits he had. He’d pondered suicide twice and almost went through with it during a drinking binge a couple of months back. Well, maybe he didn’t really attempt it but he sure thought hard about it. His life wasn’t worth spit and yet here he was, on the precipice of some type of top secret knowledge that might just make his life worth living again. What the hell did he have to lose?

  All of these thoughts rushed through him in the time it took him to peel off Billy’s hand and nod his acceptance. Just as his decision had solidified in his mind, he suddenly felt a little rush of expectation.

  The General smirked. “I’m sorry for the threats but you need to understand how vital it is that this is kept classified as stated in your contract.” Jack nodded but he’d forgotten the duration of his contract. The General must have read his mind. “The non-disclosure of classified information is binding throughout your lifetime. In order to encourage this, you’ll continue to receive a paycheck after your work here’s done, and for the rest of your lives. It’s a good deal. Reread your contracts and familiarize yourselves with what’s expected of you. Now let’s get to work.”

  Chapter 5: What’s in the Box?

  The General led them over to the closest rack. He pulled a box down and rested it at his feet.

  Jack interrupted him before he could open it. “Sir, I don’t mean to delay what you’re about to show us, but can we just skip it and meet the actual patient that I’ll be studying?”

  The General stared at him like he was from another planet before comprehension lit up his eyes.

  “I see. You thought because you have a psychology degree that we must’ve needed you for an evaluation on a human subject. Not the case. You caught our attention because of your work on the symbolism of objects. I have objects in this box that will make you question your sanity.”

  Jack was dumbfounded. A couple of years ago he’d written a pamphlet sized book. It had made him just four thousand bucks. It was on the symbolism of objects that appear in dreams. It wasn’t even very comprehensive, just a list of all the major archetypes and themes. It was a passing fad for him too. ‘The art of dreams and how they shape you’ was the title – he cringed every time he remembered that. He didn’t believe in any of it anymore, and he certainly didn’t see how it applied to objects outside the realm of dreams.

  For a sickening moment he thought that they’d made a mistake. What if he was the wrong guy? If that turned out to be the case then he’d have to wing it the best he could just so they wouldn’t shoot him. An imagined conversation swept through his head: “Hey butt-hole, I told you to get that other guy. This one’s a dud. Take him out back and get rid of him.”

  The General reached inside the box and held up an object wrapped in cloth.

  “This is your patient.”

  Jack reached for it but the General took a step backwards.

  “Not quite yet. Just take a look.” He unwrapped it and Jack couldn’t have been less impressed. The General gingerly held a child’s stuffed teddy bear between thumb and forefinger. It was bright red and fluffy, about the size of the General’s palm, just like one of those toys you win from a crane machine at Walwart or Pizza Hut.

  When he saw the blank expressions on Jack and Billy’s faces he offered, “As innocuous as this simple teddy might seem, it’s of the utmost importance we find out as much as we can about it. Now’s your chance to show us what you bring to the table, Jack.”

  Fuck, thought Jack. He couldn’t remember anything about teddy bears but he’d written a section on what it meant to dream about actual bears. His mouth opened and the sections from his book on bears and the color red rolled out verbatim.

  “The bear’s a threatening symbol. In a dream it may mean the dreamer feels superior in some way. The color red is aggressive and can be interpreted as a warning of some kind. On the other hand, the color red can indicate great personal distress.”

  He was blowing smoke; that was all dream interpretation mumbo jumbo really was anyway, but the General lapped it up.

  The General looked at Billy. “Why aren’t you writing this down?”

  Billy quickly reached inside his pocket pulling out a tiny notebook and pen, and began writing.

  Jack said, “What’s so important about the bear then?”

  “Nevermind that. What’s important is that you start analyzing as many of these objects as you can, as soon as possible. Is there anything you need before you get started?”

  Jack thought about this for a second. “I saw my computer has no internet access so I’m assuming I can’t have it for security reasons or something. I’m going to need to visit a bookstore and stock up on reference manuals.” He wi
shed he could think of something else but symbolism was pretty straight forward. “I want a coffee maker too.”

  The General smirked. “William will accompany you and purchase what you need.”

  The General held the teddy bear out for Jack to take as though he were holding out the Congressional Medal of Honor. When Jack took it a weird feeling passed through him. Something about that bear was abnormal. Ordinarily he’d have shrugged it off as a trick of the mind, but he knew that this object was special in some way. It made him feel a profound sadness. A single tear ran down his cheek and he swatted it away, ashamed. He hadn’t cried since he was a boy.

  The General laughed. “You’ll get used to it. There are a few items here that shouldn’t be touched at all; you’ll know them when you see them because they’re encased in glass or sealed in plastic bags. The teddy is alright once you know what to expect.”

  Jack turned it over in his hands. There wasn’t a maker’s tag or a ‘Made in China’ stamp. It was also completely seamless. He handed it back and the despair left him instantly, traveling out through his feet. He staggered back a step.

  The General wrapped the cloth around the bear, placed it in the box and put the box back on the shelf.

  “I’ll have these objects brought to you one at a time. William, it’s your job to procure them for him and return them when he’s done. This will be the last time you see this warehouse Jack so take it all in.” To Billy he ordered, “Take him shopping when he’s ready.” Then he handed them each a business card. “Call me for any reason at all. I mean it. It was good meeting you.”

  With that he turned on his heels and walked off. Jack heard him say into a walkie-talkie as he retreated, “Mr. Jack Mayberry’s access to warehouse A is once again restricted. Please make the necessary changes to the database.”

  Chapter 6: Live to Work, Work to Live

  Billy dressed in civilian garb before they set out.

  They’d been frisked at every guard station they passed.

  It was after two in the afternoon by the time they’d jumped through all the necessary hoops to leave the facility, and four o’clock by the time they found a decent bookstore out in the middle of nowhere.

  He kept piling on the books, waiting for Billy to say he’d spent enough, but Billy just waved him on. With that in mind, he bought the most expensive coffee maker he saw and filled an entire grocery bag with gourmet coffee grounds.

  He tried to pepper Billy with questions the whole time, but it turned out that Billy was just a grunt, recruited only a couple months ago for menial duties like patrols and such.

  Billy thanked him for the shopping trip because it allowed him the luxury of venturing out into the real world, something that, as a lowly guard, he wasn’t cleared to do on his own.

  He’d been walled up for two months; that sucked.

  Jack was told that, as a researcher, he could leave whenever he wanted as long as he got clearance first and an escort while offsite.

  That meant that if he wanted to go home at the end of the workday he'd be shadowed.

  He told Billy that he didn’t have room for him at his apartment but Billy said not to worry about that. If Jack insisted on going home every night, he’d work something out.

  They loaded up the SUV and made it back to the facility before nightfall. When they were unloading the last of the books, Billy looked up at the oppressive building saying, “Welcome back to Hogwarts.”

  He helped him dump his books off at the office and then set the timer on the coffee pot. Jack asked if he wanted a cup, but he shook his head. “I’m back at 0500 for debriefing. I need to get some grub and get to bed. Are you hungry? Do you think you’ll be staying the night?”

  “Well I’m not hungry, probably just nerves, but let me check out my bunk and I’ll go from there.”

  If it was a shit-hole that just didn’t measure up he’d head home for the night. He wasn’t a snob, but he was particular about his sleeping arrangements; the coziest hotel kept him up all night.

  He realized how put out Billy might be if he had to make the three hour drive to and from work with him every day but he couldn’t base his decision on that; he had to make sure he was well rested. This was too important; the money was too great to jeopardize. Exhaustion was a researcher’s worst enemy and he didn't want to risk making mistakes because of it.

  When they’d traversed the labyrinthine corridors and finally arrived at a door marked ‘unit 16’ Jack was drained. The emotional turmoil of the day had caught up with him leaving him dead limbed and hollow. Billy handed him a key that he shoved in the lock.

  Billy didn’t wait around.

  “I’ll come get you at 0700. It was great to meet you.”

  He was around the corner before Jack could ask him to wait.

  The sneaky bastard.

  What if he hated the room? How was he going to find his way out of this place?

  He turned the key and swung the door open. He reached his hand inside and felt along the wall for the switch. When he flipped it up he was awestruck. It was a lot better than he’d expected.

  Chapter 7: Accommodations

  He’d imagined a ten-by-ten box with a cot, sterile walls and dangling strips of fly-paper. What he found was radically different. It was so big he couldn’t see it all from the doorway. He walked through and slipped the key onto the ring with his office key.

  There was a hallway before him with doors on both sides, and a single open doorway at the end. The switch had turned the light on in that room too.

  He shut the front door behind him and walked to the room on his right. When he opened the door, a light turned on by itself via motion detector. It was a bathroom and it gave him hope that his quarters would turn out to be less than squalid. There was a double sink set into a marble top with a Jacuzzi bathtub opposite, fitted with a triple shower head. At the far end was a toilet with a bidet. He’d never used a bidet before, and didn’t plan on using this one. The floor was tiled in granite. Everything was beige except the floor mats which were a bright burgundy. There were no windows but the soft hum of an exhaust fan would have to suffice for those more dramatic morning dumps.

  He opened the medicine cabinet and saw that it was fully stocked. There was even a nose hair clipper inside. He saw two single serve packets of aspirin and wondered why they didn’t just leave a bottle. Maybe they were worried he’d eat them all at once.

  As he flipped the light on in the next room he discovered it was a large bedroom. There was a king sized bed with an oak headboard and plush comforter against the far wall. He walked up to it, turning around slowly to take it all in. There was the usual, a large dresser, a bedside table, a closet.

  He opened the closet door and saw it was full of uniforms. They had his name sewn into the breast pocket. That unnerved him a bit. He’d only agreed on taking the job yesterday (they must have known the money they offered was too good to pass up, or that he was desperate). One side of the closet was lined with button down shirts and sweaters, all in his size, the other had slacks and even a few pairs of jeans but when he tried a pair on they were the right length but too loose. He’d have to gain a few pounds or wear a belt, no big deal. There was a shelf at the end that had stacks of t-shirts and boxer shorts and socks, black and white.

  As he left the room he noticed a flat screen TV beside the door that he’d be able to watch from bed. He’d be able to sleep in this room, he decided. It was perfect.

  He went to the open door at the end of the hall and wasn’t surprised to see it was a living room and it was awesome too. The flat screen in here was bigger and it was surrounded by a couch and loveseat. The high pile carpeting gave beneath his feet and he had the sudden urge to take off his socks and shoes and wriggle his toes in it.

  To his right was a small kitchenette with a sink and fridge and oven but no counter space, the bastards.

  There was a faux fireplace at the opposite wall that he immediately switched on even though the room was alread
y warm. The fake plastic logs glowed in a mesmerizing way that put his mind at ease. He flopped down on the couch and snatched the remote off of the coffee table. Then he got up and went to the fridge. He was starving but decided he was thirsty instead when he saw all the imported beers in the door. The food inside was mostly snack stuff anyway; yogurts and juices and fruits. He popped the top off the beer and flopped down on the sofa again. The TV was rigged with the craziest surround sound he’d ever heard once he’d figured out the remote. He had all the premium cable channels but just to be a dick he ordered a pay-per-view movie and settled in.

  He noticed some additional buttons on the remote and experimented with them. One was for the fireplace so he turned it off. Another was for the ceiling fan overhead and he switched it on. There was a call button too and he wondered if a butler would show up at his door if he pressed it. The wafting sweet scented air from the overhead fan, the comfortable sofa and the beer in his belly eased him to sleep.

  Chapter 8: Day Two – The Artifacts

  He was ready when Billy showed up at 0700 on the dot. He hadn’t slept so well in years. He didn’t even remember his dreams which were generally lucid enough to wake him up several times a night.

  For sleeping on a couch, his back felt realigned and his neck was loose. He felt pretty great.

  “So you like the digs?”

  Jack nodded dreamily and Billy laughed out loud.

  “Thought you might. Mine aren’t quite as nice but it’s shit loads better than how I used to live.”

  “Yeah, me too. This is something else.”

  Billy stepped back to allow Jack to lock the door, “Wait ‘til you get a load of the grub.”

  Billy was right of course. The food in the community kitchen was Michelin star quality, not that Jack had ever tasted food from a Michelin star chef but he couldn’t imagine anything tasting better.