The Fledge Effect

by R. J. Henry

  “Okay,” he said, straightening his back. To his amazement, she was anything but old. She appeared young, almost too young to have been doing this job for over a decade.

  “I need you to sift through some paperwork, and determine if I filed them wrong.”

  “So, I’m basically your secretary.”

  “Snide comments won’t get you anywhere. I just want to test your knowledge.”

  “Fine.”

  “Use my desk; I have a meeting to go to.”

  “A meeting, at this hour?”

  “Yes.”

  He relaxed in her chair. The plush cushion of its red velvet eased the tension he felt between them. She left without informing him of when she would be back. He rocked back into the chair. “I’m sure she filed them right.”

  In curiosity, he rifled through her drawers. One, however, was locked up tight. He searched the underneath for a key. Her door opened. He flung back into the chair, feeling his temperature rise. Another agent looked in. Agent Kay frowned. “Where is Brinks?”

  “Um, not sure. She just left.”

  “Damn. Okay.”

  “Wait,” he said, raising his hand in the air.

  “What?”

  “Where does she usually go at this time? She didn’t tell me when she would be back.”

  “You’re new?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then, you don’t know.”

  “That is what I am trying to figure out.”

  “No, I mean, nothing. Look, it’s best to not dig in places you are unaware of.”

  He was taken aback by the statement. Nevertheless, he didn’t press on. “Okay.”

  The other agent left the room.

  He thought of calling his neighbors, to let them know to keep an eye on Christine and Katie. But the clock read one in the morning. “I’ll call in the morning.”

  •••

  Boss put out his cigarette, as Brinks pulled her car into the lot next to him. The park was empty, which gave him the privacy needed for this conversation. She welcomed herself into his car. He frowned, but knew it was better than having someone drive by thinking it was a drug related meeting. Cops would swarm this place in a heartbeat.

  “Smoking? What for?”

  “Old habit.”

  “Yeah, a habit that almost killed you.” “Enough of the past. Now, I think Doctor Johnston may have completed his experiment a little early.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I don’t. I know.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You better. I gave you a chance in this life, now don’t blow it.”

  “I understand.”

  She left his car, heading towards her own. He sped off, joining traffic. She leaned against her car, tapping her keys in her palm. She fiddled with the tiny brass key that went to her desk drawer. She left the lot, heading back to her office.

  In the office, she saw Carlson napping with his feet propped up on her desk. She coughed, making him jump. He dropped to the ground. “Oh, I was just, um. I don’t know. Please don’t fire me.”

  “I don’t have time to replace you. You’re fine.”

  Really? He couldn’t believe how much easier going she is being. Nevertheless, he didn’t question it. He just enjoyed not feeling like he had to preform aerobics on eggshells.

  “Did you check my paperwork?” She knew he had not, but decided to ask either way.

  “No.”

  His honesty struck her as suspicious. In a field where everyone lies, it threw her off. She nodded. “Okay. I’m sure you weren’t thinking this was fun.”

  “No, not really.”

  “Well, I have some rules: Don’t ask me questions about where I go, or what I do. And don’t look in my drawers,” she said eyeing her half open top drawer.

  He chuckled nervously, as he rested his elbow on her desk. He tried to be discreet when he shut it, but she wasn’t blind to that fact. She was well aware of how nosey people can be.

  “Anymore rules?” he said, giving her chair back. She rested her buttocks in the warm seat.

  She tapped her fingers together. “Yes. Don’t get too involved in this job.”

  He didn’t know exactly what she meant. This job required involvement, but he figured she was talking about personal relationships between coworkers. “No worries there,” he said as he chuckled.

  “Good.”

  Chapter 3

  Marcel rubbed his head to ease the pain. Lifting his torso, he searched the room for Calista. Wincing, as his head throbbed, he rustled the scattered papers and searched for his phone.

  After finding it, he chuckled sarcastically. “I’m going to find you. Just like when you were a sneaky teenager.”

  The tracker, he installed on her phone when she was a teenager, gave him directions to where she was headed. “Dammit.”

  He pounded his fist against the steel legs of his desk. Pulling himself up from the mess, he wobbled towards the glass medicine cabinet above the sink. He retrieved a bottle of sedative, and a syringe.

  His fingers fumbled, holding it upside down, as he attempted to insert the needle. The glass shattered inside the metal sink.

  He yelled. “Fuck,” he said, and then he reached for another bottle. “One last chance.”

  Marcel filled the tube with the sedative, holding his grip stronger than before. He dropped the empty vial in the sink, and it broke alongside its similar counterpart. He placed a cap over the tip, and slipped the syringe inside his lab coat pocket.

  He left the institution, bracing the brisk October air. As he trekked down the road, the essence of putrid blood filled the air. His phone ensured the direction he was headed down.

  A misshapen black lump sit in the middle of the pavement. He narrowed his eyes, as he approached it with hesitation. The caution in his steps began to tremble when he realized what he was staring at.

  Three bodies with each of their faces frozen in complex and bloody states. Marcel brought his shivering hand to his lips. The air worsened the shaking his body involuntarily succumbed to. “Oh God!”

  “Ahhh!”

  The wail of a man caught the attention of his ear. He followed the sound to an open window three stories high on an apartment complex. The man screamed again, this time initiating Marcel’s instincts to bolt up the concrete steps. He shoved the door open, and followed the steps towards the third floor.

  There was a cluster of doors along the walls, leading down to a window. He ran up to it, popping it open. He checked both sides, searching for the open window.

  Both were closed.

  He spun on his heels and faced the opposite end of the hall. With his heart galloping like a racehorse, he heard a woman’s laughter coming from the last door on the left. Calista, he thought.

  Marcel forcefully opened the door, causing a loud bang against the adjoining wall. In a daze, Nick heard a man holler the last part of what he could hear through the pounding of his heart. “… You can’t do this! Now come with me!”

  Nick’s consciousness soon faded after the man pounced on her back. However, he was still able to catch glimpses of the two struggling. Sound evaded his ears and an icy fire burned throughout his chest. Screams, on the inside, filled his head with the only noise he could remember.

  “Please don’t make me do this to you.” He closed his eyes, retracting a metal syringe from his coat pocket. “I’m begging you to stop!”

  “Never, Father!” she growled. With a hiss, she lowered her face. “Never will I stop.”

  He jabbed her in the shoulder, sinking the needle deep into her clavicle. He exhaled as the liquid transferred inside her. “I’m so sorry.”

  She collapsed on Nick, as her muscles stiffened. Pulling her up to his chest, he whispered in her ear, “I’ll fix this. I know I can. Calista, I’ll bring you back to life. Your old life… As a human. That is a promise.”

  With his other hand, he tapped on Nick’s face. Each tap hardened. “Sir? Are you ok
ay?”

  Nothing but trapped groans escaped his lips.

  Nick’s eyelids weighed down as he lifted them open. Flames now ignited inside his chest, falling down from the side of his neck. He groaned, “I can’t… I… My chest… Breathless.”

  Marcel tilted Nick’s head to the side, checking for a pulse. Two puncture holes bled without pause. The man slapped his face harder. Without a response, he sat back on the bed, thinking I’m too late. But, not too late to save my Daughter. Heaving the stiff body over his shoulder, he left Nick’s home praying this is the end.

  On the way back to his lab, he aimed to take samples of the three lifeless bodies that laid still on the pavement. When he approached the spot, he lost his breath. “They’re gone!”

  He searched the open road, wondering, who would have taken the bodies. He prayed that no one would know it was he. But, the cameras in his lab would suggest otherwise.

  The door to the institution proved difficult to open with only one hand. He patted his pockets, searching for his key card. “Shit!” He realized it was on his desk. He searched the parking lot, looking for another worker.

  Two beeps, from a car alarm being engaged, caught his attention. “Emily?” he asked, as she retreated from the driver’s side.

  She looked up, and smiled. “Dr. Johnston.” Her smile soon faded. “Who is that on your shoulder?”

  “No time for questions. I need in.”

  “Forgot your card again? Is that Calista?”

  “Err, um, yes. But, I need to get in.”

  She pulled her card from her purse. “Okay, okay. Don’t rush me. Is she okay?”

  “Yes,” he half-grinned.

  She squinted her eyes, not believing him for a second. “What’s going on?” she said, opening the door open for him.

  Before she received an answer, he disappeared down the hall to his lab. He slammed the door shut, and seconds later reopened it. “Get me a cage. Preferably a big one. Just leave it by my door.”

  He almost shut the door, and then he remembered his manners, “Oh, and thank you.”

  “Sure, thing,” Emily said as he shut his door. “Something is up, and I am going to find out.”

  A student that had been shadowing her greeted Emily at her door. “I called you three hours ago.” His lisp, caused by his braces, made her grunt. Her head was banging.

  “Get me some Tylenol and water, please.”

  “Okay, but first, I have something important to show you.”

  She rubbed her temples. “Is it anything to do with teaching the monkey sign language?”

  “Yes,” he grinned, returning with what she had asked for.

  She shook her head. “Go home, Frankie.”

  He frowned. His pimply face turning red, he said, “Okay.”

  Emily signed out on the biggest cage she had available. She grimaced at the dirtiness of the cage. However, she got the hint it was needed ASAP.

  She heeled it down the hall, knocked on his door, and waited for him to answer. She peered over his shoulder. Only a woman’s hand was visible. He stepped in her way, blocking the view.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing,” he grinned.

  “Then what is this cage for?” she said, gripping it tightly close to her.

  “No reason,” he said trying to yank it from her.

  “Then there is no reason you need this.”

  He reached for it again. “I can’t answer you at this moment.”

  “I want answers. Now, Marcel!”

  “Later,” he hissed. Calista groaned behind him.

  “At least tell me what is wrong with her. Maybe I could help.”

  “No. She is just sick, that’s all.”

  “With what? Come on. We are scientists; we can help her get better together.”

  “She is fine. She just needs to rest.”

  “She is my friend,” Emily said, burrowing her eyes deep into his.

  He shook his head. “She is my daughter. I got this. Now go away!”

  Emily felt reluctant to leave, but allowed him to take the cage.

  •••

  Grant found it hard to rest his eyes. More shrieks continued to grow outside his window, keeping him wide-awake. He got up, rubbed his eyes, and sat on the edge of his bed. He groaned, “Crap.” He didn’t have a clue as to why sleep evaded him. He couldn’t get the conversation out of his mind.

  He stood, grabbing his phone. He wondered if his girlfriend was awake as well. He watched the slightly lighted streets through his window curtains. Misses Sawyer ran down the street, and she was still in her pajamas. Grant flipped his ponytail over his shoulder, getting a closer look as he ended his phone call. “What the… That is odd attire to be doing some late night jogging.”

  He rubbed his eyes. Am I dreaming?

  He tried to see if she were being chased. But no one was behind her. “Hmmm. She’s a weird one.”

  He ran down the stairs, but noticed he was alone. Jeremiah wasn’t in the study, kitchen, or anywhere. Grant rounded the corner that separated the kitchen from the dining room. “Hmmm,” he sighed. Extinguished cigarettes sat in the ashtray near the entranceway. He knew his father left quite some time ago. But he hadn’t the faintest idea of when that time was.

  A motor could be heard nearing the house. A block away, as far as Grant could tell. He headed towards the living room, half expecting to find his father smoking on the porch swing. But, he wasn’t there.

  He noticed a pair of headlights, shining in from the living room. He heard the car park in the driveway, followed by a slam of the car door. He looked out the window. It was his dad. Jeremiah treaded up the porch, swinging the door open.

  “Where did you go this late?” Grant interrogated.

  He lifted up a grocery sack. “We were out of eggs.” His hand shook in the air. Just the weight of the eggs was enough to make him give out. He rested his arm to his side.

  Grant didn’t know how that was possible, when there was already a full carton in the fridge. He shrugged. “Okay.”

  He felt sorry for his father. He was afraid the old man was beginning to get senile. He patted Jeremiah’s shoulder. “Okay, now time for bed.”

  Jeremiah coughed. “I’m not that old, boy.”

  “Sure you’re not.” Grant was determined to ensure his father’s well-being. He promised his mother that he would. After she passed away, Jeremiah was diagnosed with lung cancer. Then, after several years of battling it, it was gone. No trace of it ever being there.

  Grant didn’t understand how that was possible. The doctors claimed it was a medical miracle, but Jeremiah didn’t seem too impressed. Almost, as if, he expected that to happen. It baffled Grant. Yet, he always gave thanks. He knew his father as a good man, and knew it was about time for a good person to get what they deserve.

  Lately, to Grant, it seemed as if only the bad ones were ever having anything good happen to them while the actual good people had to suffer just because they were nice.

  Jeremiah passed it off, handing him the eggs. “Put these away. Night.”

  “Hey, did you happen to pass Misses Sawyer on your way here?”

  He paused at Grant’s question. He did, indeed, pass her. How could he forget the sight of nice lady becoming ravenous for blood? He couldn’t it. He wanted to forget the sight, as if it never happened. “No, son.”

  Grant nodded. “Should we call someone? She looked hurt, drugged, or something.”

  Jeremiah flung his bedroom door open. “No!” After realizing he was louder than need be, he corrected his tone. “I’m sure she is fine.”

  Grant stepped back, afraid. “Sure, maybe. But, I have my phone here. It would just be a click away to call for help.”

  “No,” he said, again. He snatched Grant’s phone. “No more of this.”

  “I’m a grown man, who pays my own bills.”

  Jeremiah tossed it back. “No call for help. And cut that damn ponytail off. You look ridiculous. You ne
ed to impress the dean.”

  “Sure.”

  He sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t believe his father, the Mayor, didn’t want them to help a civilian. Maybe he didn’t believe me, Grant thought.

  His phone rang. It was Melissa, his girlfriend.

  “Hey,” he answered.

  She groaned.

  “Are you okay?”

  She groaned again.

  “Okay, well call me when you are fully awake.” He hung up. “That was weird.”

  He caught his reflection in the glass of the empty gun safe. For once, he agreed with his father. It’s a good hairstyle for those hacks who sit at café’s pretending to write their screenplays. But not for a scientist, he thought.

  •••

  Early, the following morning, Maddie traced down the street. She lived a few houses down from her mother’s house. Leaving town would have been too much for her to handle. After Emily up and left, Trudy, their mother, was all Maddie had left of her family. Everyone seemed to move away after the 2012 scare. Trudy, owning more property than Mayor of New Haven, set up the entire town as apocalypse proof. Bomb shelters, safe houses, and walls were all built to ensure the safety of the townspeople. Yet, it scared more off than it attracted.

  Her older sister couldn’t wait to leave town. Maddie, however, loved New Haven too much to leave. There wasn’t much to New Haven. Enough to get by, but due to lack of population not much was given to New Haven. The remaining people who did stay, worked together to make it beautiful. Flowers would spring up, and trees blossomed all without a struggle. It brought in plenty of visitors. But only long enough for small weddings, or pictures.

  Maddie wished the visitors would choose to stay. Considering, the fact, if she were to lock the wall and trap them here, it would be considered kidnapping.

  However, she did plan to leave for the day, to visit Emily. It worried her that she would not answer her phone. After everything that has happened, Maddie could only assume all what Emily needs is family at that moment. She knew Emily would never come back, that is why she chose to go to her. She tried to beg her to move back, but Emily remained firm in her decision.

  Trudy answered the door. “Hey sweetie, breakfast is almost done.”

  Maddie walked in, her palms sweaty. “A-actually, m-mom. I won’t have time to eat.”