by R. J. Henry
The door gently closed shut behind his back. He peered over to his right. Agent Myers, in a stance, unsettled something fierce inside Jeremiah.
“Mayor.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been watching this place. A Fledge came here in the middle of the night. She still in there?”
“I-I d-don’t know… what you are talking about,” he denied. “It’s just my son in there. All alone.”
Myers smirked. “Don’t lie to me, Old Man.”
“Well, if you knew, then why do you have to ask me?”
“No reason.”
“You hurt either one of them, I will have you killed,” Jeremiah whispered. “I am dead serious.”
“Fine.”
His words, much like his stare, sliced through Jeremiah to his core. He decided to wait outside the door. But as Hank shut the door between them, just a few feet away from him, the click of it locking sent Jeremiah pounding his feet towards the door.
He slammed his palm against it, and yelled, “Open up, now.”
He attempted twisting the doorknob with no prevail. He slammed his shoulder against it, and yelled again. “Agent Myers! I swear to God!”
After a couple of minutes of metal clashing, and the sound of shattering wood, a single blow from a gun stopped him in his tracks. He released his grip from the doorknob, watching as it vehemently rattled. Myers tugged it open, as if something enlarged blocked its way.
Jeremiah stole a quick glance towards Myers. He stormed in the lab, Calista was gone, and his son lied stiff upon the chilly tile of masqueraded papers.
Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump.
Nothing, besides the beat of heart, thickened inside his ears. Growing louder, with each hesitant step. Warm wells of serene waves crashed down out of his eyes. Seeing is not, cannot, always be true. At least in this case, he hoped it to all be a trick of his darkening mind. However, in the truth of the matter, he stood, weakly, in a mass pool of his own sons’ blood. It stuck to his sole, both shoe and spirit, as his steps slowed, crepitated with each mind-triggering step.
His throat, sticky, thick, tearful, and taut with pressing distress, cracked through his words. “M-my… N-no! My son!” he growled, clenched.
His hands shaking with severe vigor, relished with the tingling sensation of anger, and numbing pains of depression, as he grasped his sons’ face, burrowing it into his chest.
“You will pay! I will kill you, Hank Myers! I promise you!” He couldn’t scream anymore, as his throat became tight with raw hoarseness. Taut with plans, he choked back more tears. He whispered to Grant, “I love you… Those should have been my last words to you. I never say it enough… I should have more often. No more! No more! I’m done! You are my son, do not leave me!”
“Hello?” Calista cried. “Mayor Daly? Is that you?”
He followed her voice coming from the closet. He placed his ear against the door, but the locked knob proved to not open with any ease. “Where is the key?” he said, bolting his eyes around the room.
“In here. Isn’t there a spare?” she said, trembled.
The switch for the Fledges went missing. Left behind were Grants’ only set of keys. He jingled the keys in the doorknob, but none of which suited his needs. “No. None. I’m sorry.”
“What?” she cried out. She couldn’t believe what he was stating.
His breathing became raspy with rage. However, it sharpened in his lung. His entire left side squeezed as if an elephant sat on his chest. A dreadful ache, in the arm he held Grant up with, gave into a burning, ripping pressure, almost like pens and needles, if the needles were molten with fiery tips. He couldn’t take no more than short rapid breaths. Any deeper, left him curling in pain.
Two hours passed, before he regained consciousness. Even though he blacked out, he could scarcely remember the faint rush of footsteps followed by medical terms.
A pale hand, tipped with red, squared, nails tapped his face. Black sleeves met with her wrist, covering the charmed bracelet of the sun he had made for Brinks. He was the eclipse of her bright, sunny, rays. He gave her that charm, to remind her that she is the Sun.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
She leaned her head down towards him, sliding a chair beneath her. She brushed back her stray strands of red hair behind her ear. “Why are you sorry? You’re the one in the hospital. My partner was way out of line. I should be apologizing.”
“He went rogue. That was not your fault.”
“It was my fault for trusting him. Gish, what am I doing?”
“Following orders.” He drifted his eyes off towards the agape door. “My orders… My oldest enemy, time, has failed me.”
“You’re still alive. What are you talking about?”
“I was fearsome. No one dared cross me. Like my trust, my age, has ran its course in virility; fragile.”
“I can find a way to make you like me. If you would let me.”
“But, your bite doesn’t turn anyone, anything, into what you are.”
“That is not the only way.”
“I won’t have it any other way!”
“You could die, anytime!”
“So be it. My plan turned against itself. This is not what I envisioned. And in the wrong hands, could turn evil. This has to be stopped. It has gone on for too long. I refuse to wait around and see how this ends.”
“What?”
“I didn’t tell you all of the details, because of this. The containment, let alone the prevalence, of this DNA copy of Fledges, will be too much for one nation to control, but will give Myers the power to control one nation. He has the second switch. He took it from my son.” His words turned into a series of heartfelt sobs. The only type of pain a father would understand. Especially a single father, who taught his son everything from pitching his first baseball, to landing his first date. Now, he will have faced with the choice of picking his sons’ last outfit.
In a world of powerlessness, man finds a way to overcome the willingness of the weakminded individuals. Yet, it is the ones who are strong that fear not the power, but the results severed down the backbone of civilization, that face everything and fight. Jeremiah knew this, but he did not foresee the possible repercussions of his actions.
“Then, what was your intended plan?”
“To make an army. One that was ruthless, and would never quit. One that could win a forthcoming war.”
“You were building a swarm of mindless robots, in order to protect us? Using me?”
“Hey! I saved you. The doctor, a hackwannabe-doctor, that found you, wanted to do things… awful things with your DNA, and possibly to you. I wouldn’t have it; I didn’t stand for it.”
“Then let me save you! Please.”
He pressed the back of head, hard, against the hospital pillow. He groaned, fierce in his decision. The monitors beeped, and whooshed, reminding him he was still alive. Not just physically, but his soul remained intact with his earth-bound body. The way he wanted it to remain. “No.”
“How can we stop this? Was that, yet, another detail you left out?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated, drawing in a deep breath through his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut, deciding to say it fast, as if ripping off a bandaide. “You are the Mother Gene to these copies. They are connected to you, as you are to them. But, whatever happens to you happens to them. Not vice versa.” He stared into her blank expression.
What he didn’t know, was that she already calculated his words carefully. Her eyes lit up, dispirited, once realization hit. She was speechless, attempting to mutter words, but failed as ghastly noises quietly escaped from the back of her throat.
She spun around, heading towards the door.
“Jane, wait.”
She took a step back, shutting the door. “What?” She looked back at him then. Her eyes wildly blue against the fair complexion of her tone and fiery hair.
“There is one more thing, I didn’t tell you.
We did, however, conduct another test, straight after finding you. But, it only worked on one person out of the batch we tested. The rest died, but this person survived. I don’t know who it was, or if the person is a he or she, but all I know is that it worked.”
“How was that possible. My team of separate scientists were unable to pull it off.”
“Stem cells, but then the use of them for any medical, or experimental, purposes were banned in the U.S...”
“Where is this person now?”
“No clue. They disappeared. The group of scientist appointed to the project were all slaughtered after disposing of his identity. Except one. The man who found you.”
“You two are the only ones that know about this person, right? Is that what you are saying?”
“Yes. You need to find this person. It will be tricky. This person has undeniable strength. They are strong enough to kill a Fledge with their bare hands.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“They are valuable. They are almost exactly like a human, and doesn’t need blood to survive… and based on what just happened, I have no doubt that Hank would try to use this person against everyone. Find this person before he does.”
“What if I can’t?”
He patted his blanket down upon his chest. He drew it up to his chin, like a child hiding from monsters. “Then we lose. All will be lost. All I wanted to do was help people. Instead, I cursed them.”
She perched next to him, in a leather seat. “Shhh. I’ll find him.”
Without them realizing it, Myers stood within earshot right outside the door. He picked up his cell phone, and rang the Amherst PD.
A woman picked up. “Hello?”
“Agent Hank Myers here. We have a traitor amongst us. Lock it all down.”
“Code Black?”
“Very black.”
•••
Emily came up to her destination. You’ll know what to do, she remembered. She didn’t know what Brinks could have meant. The bridge was empty. There were no cars, and the one remaining was empty. Odd, she thought. She looked around, surveying the area for the owner of the vehicle. She saw a lone man, walking to the edge of the bridge.
Nick was expressionless during the entire trip. “I don’t trust it. What if it’s a trap?”
Parking her car, she stood on her feet, and chased after him. He hoped on the ledge, and she saw who it was. Agent Carlson. Katie’s dad, she realized.
“Hey! Jack!”
He took one glance at her, tipped back with a mouth full of whatever lingered inside his silver flask. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, swaying the flask between his knees.
“What do you want?” he said, as she rushed towards him. She barely had enough time to catch her breath. “Humph. Gasping for air. You’re human at least.” He emptied the flask, flinging it into the freezing water beneath them.
“I’m not sure. Can you get down, so we can talk? I was instructed to come here.”
“By whom?”
“Your partner, I believe.”
“I don’t want anything to do with her. She killed my family.”
“Huh?”
He stood up, balancing his wobbly stance on the metal beams.
“W-what… Get down! You’re going to kill yourself.”
“Good,” he chuckled, “that’s the plan.”
“Why?”
“Why, not? Everything I love is gone! My wife… Even my baby girl! Because of that bitch that sent you on this goose chase.”
“Jack, right? Jack, your daughter is alive! Please, get down here, and I-I c-can prove it.”
“You would say just about anything to get me down there. So, what? So you can off me her way?”
“W-what? No. Please. Trust me.”
“I won’t trust you,” he hoped down in front of her, “but I will let you kill me. I guess it’s better to have someone do it for you, right?”
“I’m not going to kill you. Katie misses you. You are all she talks about.”
“You’re lying! I watched her die! I clung her lifeless corpse to my chest!”
“If I were lying and you truly believed she was dead then why didn’t you jump instead? I mean, really?”
He didn’t respond with words, only an icy glare spoke to her, telling her to stop talking. But, she didn’t listen.
She softened her voice, and looked back to see Nick still in the car with the windows rolled up. She knew he couldn’t hear what she was about to say. “Look. I know how you are feeling. I know it very well.”
“Heh. No. No, you do not,” he said, swinging his hand down in the air as if he were slicing the tension between them.
“You’re right. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have your child ripped from your arms,” she sarcastically said. “But, from experience, I do know what it is like.”
He tilted his head to the side, leaning in with his eyes. His face said, “Go on.” But, his voice said, “Shut up!”
“My baby was taken from me. She would be eighteen, tomorrow. She was put up for adoption. I-it’s soul-crushingly, agonizingly painful to walk through every day without her. A black abyss swallows your heart, chews you up, and spits your soul out on a daily basis when you see the laughter shared between a parent and their child,” she choked up, but pushed through to her point, “but, you, you have a chance to share that laughter. You have Katie. She is safe, and well, in New Haven.”
“Those are real tears.…”
She nodded, wiping away her soaked cheeks. “Yes.” She pulled herself together, “Come on, I would feel much safer if we were back at my mothers’ house. We have someone helping us. He claims he might be able to help solve this Fledge gene.”
“Who?”
“Doctor Seizer.”
He stopped walking. “What?” she said, discerned by his blank face.
“That name… it was on the Project Fledge files. Doctor H. Seizer.”
“Yeah, he used to work for Boss. But he said he quit.”
“You can’t quit Boss. Besides, I found his initials on a batch of the latest tests done. A week ago, actually.”
“What?” Emily’s voice hardened. Her gut tightened. “I left Katie with a worker of Boss’? We got to hurry, now!” she said, rushing to the car. She slammed down the gas pedal, turning the wheel back to New Haven.
“What’s going on? Is someone after us?”
“You remember Doctor Seizer?” Her eyes widened, wildly stern. They spoke for her, but her message was, rather, slowed in transmission.
“Yeah?” He held no conclusion as to what she was pointing at, but the look on her face, relaxed his senses in allowing him to realize what she meant. His face tensed, awry. “Oh, shit.”
Chapter 19
Trudy was flustered. Her forehead beaded with tiny drops, and cheeks reddened with warmth, despite the dropping temperatures of the brisk, mid-October, air.
She dabbed her face with the tightly wrapped purple scarf. However, clearing her throat proved difficult as it tightened with anxiety.
Frightened eyes stared heavily upon her. They demanded safety from whatever is happening.
Even the Mayor, Eugene, held a cynical gaze on his recently appointed Councilwoman. His hair, the color of rusted steel, pulled loosely off to the side of his rounded head that ended with a double chin, and small mouth. His eyes, green as money, revealed the only reason why he ever became a man of power.
He rolled his eyes. “Are you sure? Maybe all of this is a hoax. I don’t want to give these people worries about nothing. These type of feigned stories, are the reasons for the newcomers in the first place, supplies are running low. Closing the wall will only result in an even further depletion of such, besides, who told them to even come here in the first place?”
“No, just listen to me!” “You’re insane. I should remove your name from office.”
“Please do not punish her. She is only doing what is best.” Katie, with folded hands behi
nd her back, stood just below the podium. She stepped up on the stand, next to Trudy. “Trust us. This is no hoax.”
“How many more people do you have believing this crap?” He turned to the audience. “Who told you to come here?”
One man stood out in front. “Mayor Jeremiah Daly told us that this is a safe place. From Middletown.”
“Well, maybe you, too, would believe it if you weren’t always hiding inside your house like a turtle in its shell,” she said, eyeing him with a tight gaze.
“What would that smug, Daly, know about this? So, he has a problem then passes it over to the next mayor willing to deal with this? I think not!”
“She’s telling the truth!” Doctor Seizer, who stood amongst the crowd, stepped forward. “I can prove it more elaborately than Trudy, here.”
She eyed him curiously, haven’t any idea what proof he could show. As far as she knew, George remained buried, and not to mention, he turned human after his passing. She shook her head. No way has he had any proof than a real-life Fledge, she thought.
Eugene, however, crossed his arms tight enough to bunch his blue button up shirt. His black overcoat wrinkled, matched his wrinkled forehead. “Fine. I’ll play along with this little charade.”
“Why don’t you believe my mother? Has she ever led you wrong?” Maddie’s voice chirped, snapped at his reluctant attitude.
He ignored her, allowing Seizer to proceed. “Prove me wrong, then.”
Seizer held up a vial, filled with green liquid. “This, right here, is a substance I have created, replicating the very problem we are having today; the Fledge gene.”
The audience squirmed in place. Creased faces and bitter spurs washed over them with pure anger. Some demanded it to be destroyed along with the rest of the Fledges. Others demanded to know the man responsible for such a creation. They were answered with a stony gazed, silence.
Eugene chuckled. “Okay… I think we have had enough of this little game. You’re upsetting everyone.”
“Heh, it proves everything.” His tongue, thick with British dialect, ticked. He rolled up his sleeve, exposed his forearm, and filled a syringe. “I will inject myself with it, and then you will see.”
