Callie started to cry and reached into her purse to pull out a handkerchief. With a few quick movements, she dabbed at the tears running down her cheeks. Her makeup ran, and she said, “Oh the hell with it,” while she wiped her face. “Screw makeup, anyway.”
Feeling I had to do something, I held her, and she clung to me like a drowning person would cling to a life preserver. After a series of deep breaths, the shaking stopped, and she gently disengaged herself.
“They took my life,” she said quietly. “Who would I have been without them messing me up? Would I have been this way or a guy or gay or straight? What would I have been?”
I had no answer. They’d messed with my DNA code, too, and they’d done worse to Neil. Right now, assuming what our source had told us was true, there was no way to reverse what they’d done.
We sat there watching the rest of the world pass by, enjoying their lives, not a care in the world, and I wondered why they’d chosen my parents. My father had been a paper pusher. My mother had a decent job. Neither of them had been incredible physical specimens, and while bright, they weren’t geniuses. So why us? And why me?
No answers, I had no answers. But this mystery man had given me some of the clues, and I was determined to find out the answers.
“Take me home,” Callie said. She sounded subdued, and who wouldn’t be after something like that? “I’ll see you Saturday night, but right now I want to go home.”
“Fly or bus?”
She put her arms around my neck. “Fly the friendly skies.”
Nothing I’d like better. After arriving back at her place, she seemed in a calmer mood than before. She proved it by kissing me hard before I set out for my house. “I’ll be okay. This is something I have to work through myself.”
She reached inside her purse. I heard the crinkling of paper, the scientists’ paper he’d given her. “Callie, if there’s anything I can do—”
“You can’t, but thanks all the same. I have to work through this on my own,” she repeated. “Don’t worry about me. Get going. I’ll call you later, okay?”
More than likely, my mother was working late, so Joe would come over and he’d raid the fridge while we talked. My mood sobered as I took flight. What would I do and what would the consequences be? All things considered, they’d be bad, but for the scientist who’d come forth, the consequences would be far worse.
Chapter Nine: Date night
“So that’s what he said?”
Joe posed the question while he cooked a massive pot of spaghetti in my kitchen. As expected, my mother had checked in to say she’d be home late. “If you can have dinner with Joe or your girlfriend, that’s okay.”
Good to hear her refer to Callie as my girlfriend. Then she used two dirty words. “There’re some frozen vegetables in the freezer for you.”
Frozen veggies—pass. Instead, I’d called Joe, and he’d dutifully brought over the necessary vittles and volunteered to do the cooking. Now, the smell of simmering meat sauce was intoxicating. I couldn’t even boil water, but he was a maestro, and for once, he’d made something edible.
“Hey, Earth to Mitch,” Joe said in a loud voice. “You listening, man?”
Reality snap-back time. “Uh, yeah, that’s what he said. And I believed him.”
A thoughtful expression settled over his features. “Dead scientists,” he murmured. “Eat first, and then we’ll check.”
Over dinner, we discussed the day’s events, and I brought up the subject of seeing Callie later on. A grunt greeted my statement. Joe still hadn’t found Ms. Right. Still, he didn’t seem the jealous type and anyway, he was more into research and eating than dating. “Glad you two are together. Double glad you found something out,” he said while cramming a huge amount of pasta into his mouth. “I’ll get on it.”
Three seconds later, he ingested his dinner and then spun upstairs to get to work. After doing the washing up, I went upstairs to join him at the computer. “I got nothing,” he said. “You can check if you want.”
We exchanged positions, and he took a seat on my bed to leaf through the newspaper. While running my check, I jotted down some potential sources on a notepad. No luck on getting the names of genetic research companies. They had lists of their personnel, but asking them to give me a list of their personnel, present, and past, was ridiculous to the max, so chalk that up to a dead end.
Following the contact’s advice, I then turned to the subject of unusual deaths over the past three years. There were so many my eyes started to cross, so rubbing the tiredness away, I sent Callie an email, saying I was looking forward to seeing her Saturday night. Her reply came back almost immediately. I want to see you, too.
A reply like that made all the other BS almost worthwhile. I started to type a reply, but then Joe asked me to check on the scientists, those who’d died over the past three years as our mystery man had suggested. Searching... searching, yes, found something! “Joe, take a look at this.”
He came over to peer at the screen. “So, what is it?”
“Evidence is what it is. It’s not the best, but it’s a start.”
The names were there, and so were the dates.
Carl Ahlstrom, leukemia specialist and researcher, age forty-four, car crash... Lindsay Gray, bone marrow specialist and researcher, age sixty-one, car crash... Simon Cohen, cancer specialist and researcher, age thirty-nine, car crash...
In all, there were more than twenty researchers, and all of them had done research in DNA manipulation. As well, they’d all died within the past three years. “Lots of car crashes,” I muttered. “Still, that doesn’t show any ties to the government.”
Joe nodded, back in serious mode. “No, it doesn’t, but it does show they worked for various private firms before leaving. They were also specialists in DNA research. That gives us something to go on.”
If Chief Sullivan were here, he’d say the same thing a policeman or detective would say, that it was circumstantial and that we were chasing ghosts. “If you can find a link, then that would be helpful. They’re dead, and good luck in getting the police to check on foul play. The news sites said nothing about it.”
“I’m trying,” Joe said, now seated in front of the computer and tapping the keys at light speed. “I’m trying, but getting any information is going to be hard.”
Hard was an understatement. Impossible seemed to be the operative word. “All we’ve got is a list. And if we go to the press, they won’t believe us. I wouldn’t.”
Joe stopped tapping, and his voice grew angry. “So what do we do, wait until another monster comes by? If what that crazy guy said to you is true, they know where we live.”
“Everyone knows where we live. It isn’t a state secret,” I countered while stealing a look at the clock on the computer. It was almost eleven, and I was mentally drained. “I’m going to crash.”
Before I did, though, Joe’s voice stopped me. “Mitch, you’d better take a look at this. This is live.”
Going over to the computer, he pointed at the screen. He’d logged onto a local news station’s channel. A female reporter, young, dark-haired and with an earnest expression, stood on the concrete shoulder of a highway. Although it was night, I recognized the place. It was the highway leading from Portland to Tacoma.
A nondescript car sat at the edge of the safety lane but seemed undamaged. “The body of James Raney, age fifty-seven, was found only an hour ago,” the reporter intoned. “His body had been torn apart as if by a wild animal...”
A sense of dismay combined with helplessness hit hard as I saw the face of the man we’d met flash on the screen. Joe’s voice came dimly as I tried to process the ramifications of the news report. “Is that the guy you and Callie met?”
“Yeah, it’s him.” Jesus...
What made it worse was how he’d died. Not like the others, though—he’d been ripped up like a piece of paper. Raney had been our contact, and now he was gone.
> Another shock hit, this one closer to home. This murder led back to me. Raney had been torn apart by a wild animal. Animals had claws, I did, too...
“It’s a good set-up,” Joe said, interrupting my thoughts. He gazed at me, face blank.
That comment, I did not appreciate. “Thanks for turning me in.”
He shrugged. “All I’m saying is, they need a bad guy. You’re the obvious suspect.”
“Except I’ve been with you. That’s my alibi.”
It sounded good, but would Chief Sullivan believe me? Doubtful... and our only witness was gone. Joe shut off the computer. “So much for a possible witness,” he said. “Man, this is getting too deep.”
“I think we’re already in halfway at the deep end.”
Correction, we were in way over our heads. My bad luck continued when someone knocked on the front door, and I went downstairs to answer it. Sleep would have to wait. Opening up, Chief Sullivan stood there, a concerned expression on his face. “Let me guess, you heard about the dead guy?”
He doffed his cap. “Mitch, he was torn apart by something with claws. That makes you suspect number one. I have to ask you where you were before. That man, did you know him?”
Oh crap, time to lie. Telling him that Callie and I had known him would only make me appear guiltier—and I wasn’t. So doing the Oscar thing, I stared him straight in the eye and lied my butt off. “I didn’t know him. I was here, with Joe. He’ll tell you.”
Fortunately, Joe spun down the stairs to corroborate my story. Sullivan listened, nodding at the details. “I figured as much. This has gone beyond what I can handle.”
Great, thanks for admitting your incompetence, I thought. “So what happens now?” It was the only question that came to mind.
Sullivan replaced his cap. “I’m going home. Just be careful, the both of you.”
He went back to his car and drove off. It wasn’t until after his car disappeared around the bend that I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah buddy,” Joe whispered as he began to move off in the direction of his house. “You be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once he’d gone, I locked everything up securely. In my room, I stripped down and got into bed, but didn’t fall asleep right away. Our contact had been one of the last links in the chain. For all I knew, he was the last link. So what to do now? I had no idea, but soon sleep came up to catch me.
The next morning, my mother knocked on my door as I was getting dressed. “Just a minute, Mom.”
I finished pulling up my jeans, tucked in my shirt, and then opened up. My mother stood in the aperture, wearing a contemplative look. “What is it, Mom?”
She bit her lip repeatedly, eyes shifting back and forth. Finally, she plowed ahead. “Mitch, I heard about the scientist at the office. Then I watched the news—and you locked all the windows.”
No other words followed, but then again, it wasn’t necessary. I told her about me and Callie running into Raney. She listened attentively, nodding at all the right spots, but her expression remained stoic. Finally, I’d had enough of the statue thing. “Mom, are you trying to tell me you think I did it?”
“No, I know you wouldn’t, but people... they’re not going to believe you.” She cast her gaze to the floor. “They don’t believe me, either.”
Where was all this going? “You didn’t lose your job, did you?”
A few tears leaked from her eyes. “No, but everyone at my office, they’re wondering, and...”
It figured. Everyone just had to blame someone innocent. Going over to her, I gave her a hug. “Mom, this is me. I didn’t do it. Besides, Joe was here.” I searched her face and found honesty. “You believe me, don’t you?”
With a shaky hand, she wiped her eyes. “Yes, I do.” Then she took in a deep breath, held it, and blew it out. “They can say what they like. My son would never do such a thing.”
A smile, small and strained, emerged. “Don’t you have a date this weekend?”
“Yeah, I’m meeting Callie at her place.”
Wordlessly, my mother turned around and went downstairs. After she’d gone, I got back on my computer, trying to find additional information. So many sources and so little time. Whoever was behind this, they’d planned it out well. Me and Joe against the government. At least Callie was safe, and all I could do was pray for her continued safety.
Saturday night, date night, night flight. Callie was waiting outside her house. I’d gone shirtless, my t-shirt tucked inside my pants, and landed a few yards away. After I folded my wings inside me, I hastily put on my shirt. She wore a light blue dress, simple and stylish, and had a bag slung around her shoulder. Her hair hung in waves of gold and my breath hitched in my throat. My date—she looked perfect.
“Hi,” she said once I got close enough. “Thanks for picking me up.”
I didn’t have a driver’s license so how to go downtown? “No problem, but I, um, don’t have a car. I could fly you down.”
She put her hand up. “It took me over an hour to get everything just right with my mother’s help. Flying, uh-uh, no to that. We can walk. This outfit isn’t air compatible.”
“Aren’t you worried about changing or anything?”
Callie favored me with a smile. “Are you?”
“No.”
Maybe my answer came too quickly, but it didn’t seem to bother her, and we walked along the quiet street as a warm summer wind caressed us. Part of me wanted to take her hand, but the other part, the cautious—okay, chicken—part, said to wait and let her make the first move.
Then I decided, no, I’d made a commitment before, and it was only right to follow through on it. I took her hand in mine. She held it tightly, and then said, “You’re not worried about people saying anything, you know, about us?”
Truthfully, yes, but I’d come too far to back out now and didn’t want to. “I’ll deal. I’m more worried about other things.”
“Such as...” She left the question hanging.
I led her to a park bench. “Let’s sit down first.”
Taking our seats, hands still joined, I inhaled the clean air. A sense of peacefulness hit me, something that noticeably absent in my life as of late. “So talk,” Callie prompted.
How to say the impossible had happened? “Oh, it’s just what’s happened so far. I mean, that thing that came after me, and the guy we met the other day—”
“I saw the news,” she interrupted and turned toward me. “I know you didn’t do it. I trust you, but Mr. Lucas is the only one left... and he was with the government.”
“Maybe he’s still alive.” Truth to tell, I’d been thinking the same thing. The only question was what we were going to do now. There didn’t seem to be any way out. It was like a noose had been placed around my neck, and an invisible force was drawing it ever tighter. Callie’s touch on my hand disturbed my thoughts. “What is it?” I asked.
“Are you thinking about me?”
“Yes,” I answered, lying and not liking it. I didn’t want her to worry. “I’m thinking about us and where we’re going to go.”
A smile flashed across her face. “That’s the kind of thinking I like. I’m still trying to get used to me being me.”
If her being this way was the way she’d stay, then call me in on the plan. “If you’re okay with this, I’d like to help you get used to you being you. You said you wanted something more permanent. I do, too.”
As soon as I uttered those words, Callie snapped her head up. “Are you sure?”
Heat rushed through my body and right now, I was never surer of anything in my life. “Yeah, I mean, everything.”
She leaned forward, her mouth slightly open, eyes closed, and I leaned forward as well. Our lips were about to meet when an odor drifted over to me, something foul and evil...
“You—I’ve come for you!”
A breath of heat that quickly turned into a blast of fire scorched my toes. Reacting fast, I brought
out my wings and leaped into the air with Callie in my arms. The remains of my shirt fell to the ground. “Holy crap!” I yelled, my heart hammering away. That damn thing had come out of nowhere.
“Huh... huh... huh...” the creature said, pacing around, its heavy feet making thudding sounds upon the soft turf. It stayed below, breathing fire and torching a few bushes along with scorching some trees. A few seconds later, it stopped flaming on and turned its head to the sky. “You can’t stay up there forever, Mitch. I will find you, and I will kill you—all of you!”
Talk about new and totally different. Before, I’d faced off against a toad. This thing was a solid mass of rock with beady black eyes and a slash of a mouth that vomited fire. The only thing that was the same as its predecessor was the voice, deep and menacing.
Oh yeah, the smell was the same, wood alcohol mixed with crap. And when it spoke directly to me, I believed it. Who in the hell had engineered this thing?
“Why do you want to kill me?” I asked.
“You... exist.”
In a not-unexpected move, it blew a flame-blast at us. Callie yelped, and I barely got out of the way. Flying her over to a safe spot, I ran at the creature, dodging its flames and smashing it on its jaw with the hardest punch I could throw. As soon as I connected, I felt something in my hand crack, but the monster fell on its back. “You’re strong,” it said.
Not dazed in the least, it quickly got to its feet, slammed me with a thick forearm that knocked me back ten feet, and then took off. For something that large, it moved fast and soon disappeared into the forest. “Are you okay?” Callie asked as she came over to help me up.
The flames were dancing all around us, and my hand hurt like crazy, but I could still function. “Are you okay with me flying?”
She gulped. “I’m good.”
Picking her up in my arms, I lifted off and circled away from the heat, doing my best to spot a moving rock, but saw nothing. We landed at the edge of the tree line, and Callie pointed off to our right. “I see something over there.”
Outcasts Page 11
