by R. J. Henry
She snapped the light off. “How about
now?” His grip tightened on the arms of the
chair. “No change.”
“Hmmm,” Emily hummed. She pulled a
ripe fruit off the shrub and handed it to him.
“Try this.”
“I need blood.”
“Just pretend it is. Besides, whatever
happened to you is what happened to Calista.
And she was part of the same experiment these
fruits were a part of.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. He took a
small bite out of the Red Fate, feeling a warming
sensation ooze down his chin. “It’s blood!” “Are you sure?” she grabbed the other
half. Inside of it was a pool of red liquid surrounding a star-shaped seed. She placed the
seed on her desk, and took a small sample of the
liquid under her microscope.
“What do you see?”
“Red blood cells. But…”
“What?”
“They’re perfectly healthy and multiplying fast,” she said, turning the dial on the microscope. “They are stable as well.”
The tiny green lumps, on the plant, suggested
promising growth. She filled the plant with
more fertilizer, as Nick slowed down his pace
with the fruit.
“One bite filled me.” He dropped his
hands in his lap. “What does this mean?” “It means whoever had Doctor Johnston on this CBH experiment has a bigger plan
in mind.”
Later, Emily decided to leave work, and
head home. She couldn’t tolerate another second of Nick’s condescending voice. He has his
pleasant moments, but even through those
times, he would glare at her as if he wanted to
slap her stupid.
She knew trying to be friends with an ex
would be almost impossible, but she tried. She
sure the hell as attempted to mend that burnt
bridge she set ablaze to. But, to her, it seemed
as if all he wanted to do was throw more gasoline on their past.
Marcel tried to stop her, as she left the
building. But she assured him, it was for a good
cause. Mainly because she had, gotten hungry
watching Nick eat. She explained to him that if
she didn’t eat soon, then she would surely keel
over and underperform her work.
Besides, she thought, I want to see how
common those seeds are. They weren’t anything
she has ever seen before. But, maybe she just
hasn’t bothered noticing them before, if she had
seen them. She was determined to find out.
•••
George rolled out their weapons mat on a metal
slabbed table. He placed silencers on all the
guns; he had just assembled shortly after receiving Myers’ email. David walked up to him, whistling at all the metal. George threw his arm up, in front of him, blocking his grabby hands. Rachel picked one up, examining its long neck. She held it out in front of her, aiming it at the picture of their next victim. “Wonder why he don’t want us to kill her?” she said, squinting an eye towards the tip of the barrel. “I think he knows her.”
George grunted, and sighed. “It’s best to not question our duties.”
David agreed, and then looked at George. “But, did he even clue us in on her whereabouts?”
He nodded, tossing down a purple device. “He also wants us to never lose her whereabouts.”
“With a phone?” Rachel scoffed. “A tracking device,” George corrected. David rubbed his two palms together. “So, where do we go?”
George cocked back a gun. “Her house.” “But, what if she isn’t alone? In order to kill a person, you have to have zero witnesses.” George glared at Rachel. “Again. We are not killing her!”
“Right, right. No. We are just taking her chances of ever conceiving a child. That is so much better,” David said.
Rachel nodded. “A life like that. I’d want to be dead.”
He rolled their weapons mat back up,
clicked the buttons to secure it, and loaded it up
into one of the black jeeps. He placed on his
mask, along with Rachel. David, however,
sighed at the mask. He fiddled with it in his
hands.
George slammed the door shut. “What
now?”
“It’s just,” David, sighed, “I really
wanted to wear super hero masks. Not ski
masks.”
“Hey,” George bellowed, “we let you
come up with the name.
David nodded, chuckling. “Yeah, it is a
pretty bad ass name.”
“Bad, yes,” Rachel smiled. “Bad-ass?
No,” she said, laughing.
They piled into the jeep, waiting for
their GPS to direct them where they need to go.
•••
Soon after she came upon the block from where
she lived, on Foxtail Road, an unfamiliar car
rested in her drive. Holding her breath, she
turned her wheel pulling into the space behind
the black car. The cars bumper bounced off a
bright ray of sunlight, temporarily blinding her.
She quickly regained her sight, and through her
squinted gaze, a dark shadow moved across her
living room window.
She reached into her glovebox, and
without looking away, found her handgun. “Didn’t think I would ever have to use this again,” she said, clicking in a, replaced, filled
cartridge.
The dark figure moved frantically
across her house. It seemed the place it kept
running back to was the kitchen. Emily tried to
peer in closer, but was unable to see its face. She
waited for her chance to get out, and move in.
But the figure began bobbing its head from view
of the window. Who is it? Better yet, what is it? Her heart fluttered, she knew the damage Calista has done, but didn’t know whom else
it could have affected. The thought of a Fledge,
without knowing, for certain, of their nature,
made her chatter through her breathing exercises. Nick, Calista… They may have been just
the exception. Maybe, the only exception. She
knew of their capabilities, and didn’t doubt
what it could do to her. She bowed her head,
praying, “Please, God. Don’t be a Fledge.” She sidled up to her back porch. Her
roses, in superfluous amount, wilted in the lack
of sun. She kept her ears in steady listening
mode, as the trespasser stomped abruptly
throughout her house. A moving truck beeped
as it backed out of the drive next to her house.
She heard the footsteps walk away, heading towards the living room window. Emily took her
chances, running through the door.
Inside was Maddie. She closed the curtain. The sound of the screen door squeaking caught her attention. She followed the noise, running towards the kitchen. There, she made contact with a metal barrel. It pointed, shaking, towards her. On the other end, stood her wide
eyed sister.
She stood, taken aback by her sisters’
lack of mannerisms. “Emily? Are you okay?” She knew it was Maddie, but unsure if
it truly is. “What are you?”
Emily scoffed, confused. She rolled her
eyes. “I’m a pie… What do you think?”
“No! Are you human?”
“Yes,” Emily said with a slight nod.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Emily pressed escaping air through her
lips. She dropped the gun to her side. “Nothing.”
She looked up at her frightened sister, smiling.
“What are you doing here? Did mom send you?” Maddie shook her head. “No. She
doesn’t know I came here, exactly.”
“Where, exactly, does she think you
are?”
“Shopping in the next town over.” “I missed you,” Emily said, and gazed
around her house. “My house is clean?” Maddie folded her arms behind her
back, and blushed. “I came in, noticed the mess,
and figured you would like to come home from
work to a clean house.”
“Thank you. But, how did you get in? I
locked this place up before I left.”
The place, now spotless, didn’t show
any signs of forced entry. She highly doubted
her sister could sift through walls or doors, so
her enthusiasm brightened. “Maddie, did you
inherit super powers after the last time we
met?” She let out a throaty chuckle, reluctant to
believe anything of the sort.
Sharing into her sisters’ laughter, Maddie spoke with a singsong chirp to her voice.
“You didn’t know? Yeah, totally. I accidently
bathed in toxic chemicals.”
Emily shook her head. With a wave of a
hand, she blurted out the first thing that came
to her mind. “Dying your hair don’t count.” She
eyed Maddie’s, once brown hair, which is now
blonde.
Maddie patted her hair down against
her neck. “You never know. Besides, a ceramic
frog is not the best place to hide a spare key,”
she said, shrugging as she tossed the key towards Emily.
They both stood twiddling their
thumbs. Maddie decided to break the silence.
“Um. Well, we should go shopping. What do you
say?”
Emily nodded, grabbing her gun off the
floor. She placed it on her kitchen table, leaving
the house. This time, remembering to keep her
spare key in her pocket. She locked all doors and
windows, ensuring no uninvited guests would
be able to gain entry into her home.
They took Emily’s car. And as they
pulled out of the drive, so did a few other cars.
All of which were avid shoppers at the market.
Except one, a black jeep. “Looks like the new
neighbor is following this conga-like line towards Barrett’s Market.”
Maddie looked back. “Wow, must be popular around here.” “Well,” she breathed, “when it only comes out once a month, it tends to be that way.”
Chapter 7
Emily slumped, cautious about her surroundings. Later that day, it had seemed, Emily and her sister, Maddie, walked down an empty path of the outdoor market, Barrett’s Market. They searched for a fruit that could resemble the ones in her lab. The marketplace was the first place to check. The one good thing about the marketplace was that Emily felt safe there.
She’d smile after passing each attended stand. Even though her breath would cut short after seeing all of the happing, smiling, infants receiving their parents’ loving natures. Her eyes would swell with the thick warmth of tears. But, luckily, Maddie was distracting enough.
Maddie turned to Emily. “Do you think it would really be here?”
There were so many people there, only trying to either eat right, or make an honest living. Everyone smiled, and waved at her, calling her by name. She comes there often, and knew exactly where to look, after helping Maddie finish her shopping.
“No,” Emily shrugged. “Maybe we should ask someone if they know the origin.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Obviously it is not something that is from this world.”
Emily thought about what she said, wondering if it were possible. “What are suggesting? That it came from another world?” she joked. Eyeing her sister curiously, an estranged man bumped into her shoulder. “Watch it!” she said, unable to see his face past his hand. Jerk, she thought. She caught a whiff of his cologne. It struck a familiar cord with her, but she wasn’t able to place it.
She bit her thumbnail, listening to her sisters’ conspiracy theories. “Could they be?”
“What? No. That is impossible. I am just saying that it was probably man-made. What did you say it was called again?”
“They’re called Red Fates. I don’t know the technical term.”
“Hmmm, doesn’t sound familiar.”
A Shadowy figure, standing in a dark stairwell, caught the corner of her eye. She pulled Maddie in, walking in a brisk manor. The figure came to the light, waving a wooden pole towards Emily’s feet. With a slam to her right ankle, she fell to the ground screaming. She looked up to her wide-eyed and frightened sister. "Maddie, run!”
The beat of her sisters’ feet pounded against the brick pavement as Emily turned to face her assailant. The figure wore a skintight ski mask made of cloth, and baggy black clothes. “Who are you?” she said, shivering as she held her knee to her chest.
Without an answer, the masked attacker waylaid the thick pole against her temple.
•••
Marcel climbed back into his car, after filling his order. He admires the luxury of his recent purchase, but doubted it made him look as young as he felt driving it. In order to parade it around in pride, he insisted on driving across town just to get a simple cup of coffee. Even though the fifteen-minute navigation back to the University, amongst the normal morning rush, drove him crazy.
After driving for a while, he seen he was only a few blocks away from being back into the comfort of his lab. The cars in front of him slowed to a near stop.
He honked his horn, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. “Come on, grandma!” The irony made him giggle.
“Speed up or move!” he said to the silver car ahead of him. He knew they could not hear him, but he wished they could.
The pace of the vehicles sped up, swerving like a giant metallic serpent. “Finally,” he breathed.
He reached for his coffee, bringing the steaming liquid to his lips. That’s when a man, running from the laundry mat, heeded towards the middle of the road. Marcel slammed on his breaks, spilling his coffee all over his shirt as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands. The man his bumper, flipping up into the air, and landing on top of his hood. He jumped down, completely unscathed. He stared at Marcel, with glowing blue eyes and visible sharp teeth. Blood dripped down his face as the man grinned.
Marcel gasped in response. “Another Fledge.”
He looked back towards the laundry mat. Screams of women and children as they maintained a refractory to the sacrifices they were forced to make. Many people were turned into a Fledge, aiding in the massacre. Some were lucky enough to escape with only a bite, but not so lucky to the experiences that would inevitably come next. Marcel feared the worst, locking his two car doors.
He looked back at the man in front of him. Before he ran away as the occupants in the neighboring cars quickly escaped their vehicular prisons, Marcel seen lesions peeling from his skin. The sun. The sun is burning him. But, Marcel couldn’t stop what happened next. The man stopped in mid-step, illuminating a golden ring around his body as it encased his entire being. Swallowed up by its fiery trenches, the man screamed. What appeared to be an outline of his shadow, flowing up to the sky, Marcel gazed at it in disbelief.
Marcel searched for a route big enough to squeeze his car through. He turned the wheel, and then maneuvered through the two rows of cars. The screech of metal-on-metal pierced his eardrums as he pressed on the gas. “Shit!”
After making it to a clearing, a woma
n began banging on his window. She hung on tight to his handle, allowing his car to drag her along the road. She screamed profusely. “Open the door, please! Help me!”
He stopped the car, and reached to unlock his door. He couldn’t allow an innocent soul to be taken.
Then, he noticed a mark on her forearm. Two puncture wounds leaked out blood. He knew he couldn’t allow her to enter his car. Keeping the doors locked, he pressed harder on the gas pedal and sped off. She released her grip from the handle and dropped to the ground.
Sweat dripped down his face as he fumbled with his collar. “Shit. Damn. Hell.” •••
Emily began to flutter her eyes open, blinded by the sun. She noticed a dock, in the shape of an L. She then realized her entire body felt submerged into water, and wrists were bound to a wooden stud. Her head bobbed above the water. She tried to kick her feet, but they were stiff. She groaned, heaving, as she thrusted up her legs and revealed their ice-block bound prisons.
On the other side of the dock were two people dressed in all black and wearing the cloth ski masks. They noticed her thrashing in the water.
Emily spit out a mouthful of water. “Hey! Let me go!”
In silence, they approached her and placed a burlap sack over her face and head. They proceeded by pulling her out of the water and smashing the block of ice off her feet. Then, the taller one tossed her over his muscular shoulder and carried her off the dock, and into a black jeep.
She squirmed around in the leather seat. “W-where are you taking me?”
No response, other than the occasional click of the blinker. In the driver seat sat a smaller man. He munched on a toothpick, as he created an unheard of beat from fidgeting his fingers on the steering wheel.
She sighed, tapping her fingers against her knee. “P-please don’t kill me.”
A woman’s voice broke the silence. “We’re not going to.”
“I-I’m s-so cold,” Emily said with a shudder.
“Shhh,” the woman hushed.
Emily didn’t want to risk another blow to head, and followed the woman’s silent command.
The jeep came to a halt. They led her into a metal building, surprising her with another warm blast of air. Her fingers and toes started to numb. They removed the bag, pushing her to sit down on the ground. “No chair?”
The one, who pushed her down, glanced at her. “No. It’s cooler on the floor,” the woman said.
“Can I at least s-see your faces?” Emily didn’t know why she wanted to know what they looked like. She assumed it would be an easier death if she could see her killers. But, she shook her head at that idea. She just wanted to know if they were human.
