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Cosmic Girl Rising Up

Page 5

by R S J Gregory


  I spread my arms wide. “All of us.” I say.

  Mitchell and Paul come over and nod in agreement.

  The officer looks at me skeptically, but then he sees everyone else. We’re all pale and dressed the same.

  “Please stand over on the sidewalk.” He says and points to his right.

  I wave everyone over and does as he asks. They climb back in and then pull the car over to the curb.

  “Dispatch, this is car two one nine.” The officer says into his radio.

  “Car two one nine, go ahead.” A woman’s voice replies.

  “We need…” Then I see him do a quick head count. “six ambulances at Hyde Street, near the old condemned veterinary surgery.” The officer says.

  He looks at me as he presses the button on the radio again. “We have some folks who need assistance.”

  “Copy that, two one nine.” Then the radio goes quiet for a few minutes.

  “ETA ten minutes.” The woman’s voice adds after a while.

  It takes twenty minutes for the ambulances to arrive. Mitchell, Paul, Beth and Stuart climb into my ambulance. A paramedic checks us over quickly, then they drive us to the hospital.

  At the hospital, I tell one of the doctors there that I think we were exposed to some form of radiation. He quickly arranges some blood tests. We end up quarantined in the x-ray room until the results come back.

  We get the good news an hour later.

  “Some traces, but the levels are quite low. Nothing to worry about.” The doctor says and allows us to leave the room.

  After we’re given a once over, the police arrange for us all to be taken to the police precinct. Now comes the hard part.

  “You want to run that by me again?” The large police sergeant asks as he stops writing and looks at me.

  He seems like a nice guy, just a bit skeptical. He looks the same age as my dad, mid to late forties. He’s also a big bear of a man, barrel-chested, with thick arms. His hair’s black with flecks of grey and is neatly clipped. His black sleeves are rolled up, exposing his tanned forearms.

  “We were kidnapped. It happened immediately after the terrorist attack in Washington D.C.” I repeat.

  “That happened two months ago.” He replies.

  What? Oh my god!. We’ve been gone for two months. It’s January?

  Oh, man. I missed Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  “And during that time, we were being held against our will. We were tortured and experimented on. And I personally witnessed the murder of two people.” I say and look at him sternly.

  “Look, I appreciate this all sounds strange. But I swear to you, it’s the truth.” I say.

  I plonk the black plastic sack with the Rubik’s Cube inside on to the table.

  “What’s that?” The sergeant asks.

  “A Rubik’s Cube I took from one of the rooms. I’m hoping you’ll find some prints on it.” I reply.

  I push it across the table towards him.

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “What’s your name?” He asks.

  “Britney Brookes. I’m from Chicago. Check missing persons. I’m sure you’ll find my name.” I say confidently.

  “Wait here.” He says, then leaves the interview room and closes the door behind him.

  I sit back in the hard wooden chair and drum my fingers on the table.

  He returns after fifteen minutes, looking even more puzzled, which worries me.

  He closes the door and sits down opposite me again.

  “I’ve got some bad news.”

  “Great. Now what?”

  “You weren’t declared missing.”

  “What? That’s not possible. My dad would have filed a missing person report for sure. As would my school, Hackberry High.”

  “Like I said. You weren’t declared missing.” He looks at me expectantly, like he’s waiting for the penny to drop.

  “Just say it.”

  “You were declared dead two months ago.” The sergeant says grimly.

  Eight

  The news hits me like a volleyball that’s been spiked by an Olympic gold medalist. We were declared dead? So no one was looking for us? Oh my god.

  I recover and raise an eyebrow. “As you can see, I’m very much alive.”

  “Yes.”

  “So now do you believe me?”

  “I’m getting there.” He says and pauses for a moment. “How did you escape?”

  “The old surgeon guy had his back turned to me. I pushed him into the wall. I grabbed some keys from him while he was unconscious and unlocked my friends.” I lie quickly, then smile innocently.

  “Can you take me to this building where you were being held?”

  I nodded. “Right away. Come on, let’s go.” I say eagerly and stand up.

  “Not so fast, Miss Brookes.”

  “What?”

  “If what you say is correct, then that building is now a crime scene. We need to do this properly.” He gets up, grabs the black sack and then walks to the door and yanks it open.

  He hails an officer who is walking our way.

  “Mike, where’s Detective Romano?” The sergeant asks.

  “He was heading towards the armory.”

  “Thanks. Show this young lady to reception. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  “Sure.” The officer replies and looks at me. “Hi, I’m Officer Kent.”

  “Hi, I’m Britney.” I reply and smile as he nods to my right and begins to walk.

  “Let’s get you some clothes.” Officer Kent says as we get to reception.

  He leans over the counter and calls out. “Yo, Phil?”

  A short man wearing a white shirt sticks his head around the corner further back, and seeing Officer Kent leaning over the counter, walks over.

  “What’s up?” The man asks.

  Officer Kent nods down at me. “Need some clothes. What have you got?”

  “Just some cheap-ass jeans and some unwanted souvenir SFPD t-shirts.”

  “You got…” then Officer Kent sizes me up. “…an extra small?”

  The other man disappears around the corner and comes back carrying something wrapped in cellophane and some blue jeans. He pushes the items across the counter to Officer Kent.

  “You’ll need to sign for them.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Officer Kent says, then quickly writes in a pad and then pushes it back.

  “Here.” He says kindly and hands me the clothes.

  Okay, I have a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt with a chunky seven-pointed blue star, with the letters SFPD embroidered with gold thread on the chest.

  “Thanks.” I say as I rip away the cellophane, while I look around for somewhere to change.

  “Oh, right. They’re just over there.” Officer Kent says and points towards some washrooms behind me near the waiting area.

  I smile and head into the washroom to get changed. As I walk to the washbasins, I check my reflection in the mirror.

  “Whoa.” I blurt out when I see myself.

  It’s been such a long time since I last took a good look at myself.

  The change is shocking. I look so….thin. My cheekbones are very prominent, and I have dark circles under my eyes.

  Wow, my eyes. Beth’s right. They’re now a pale blue. I never had a chance to check them out before, but now, as I lean in and take a closer look, I see something flickering around my irises.

  “What the hell?”

  There’s a wafer thin line of purple around the inside of my irises, and….well…it’s rotating, and pulsing gently.

  From a distance, it’s almost impossible to see, but up close like this, wow. It’s official. I’m a freak.

  And my hair, geez, I look like I’ve been sleeping rough. Which is true, I suppose.

  I go into a cubicle and get changed. It doesn’t take me very long. My body feels charged, like a muscle car waiting at the stop light, revving and trembling with power. Within two microseconds, I’m changed into the jeans
and t-shirt.

  I emerge a few seconds later from the washroom carrying the green smelly hospital gown. The sergeant is walking down the hall towards us. The sergeant stops at the counter and speaks to Phil.

  “Where are the other victims?”

  “Some are having counselling. Some are phoning their loved ones.” He then nods towards the entrance. “Some are outside getting some air.”

  The sergeant turns to me. I don’t like his expression.

  “Ready to go?” I ask, full of hope.

  He shakes his head sadly. “More bad news, I’m afraid.”

  “Great. Now what?” I say and throw my hands up in frustration.

  “We just got a report in of an explosion, near where you were picked up.”

  I shake my head. “Man, they thought of everything, didn’t they?”

  He comes towards me and places his big hands on my frail shoulders.

  “I’m going to send some men over there, after the fire department have finished. We may still find something.” The sergeant says.

  He takes my gown from me and gives it to Officer Kent.

  “Mike. Take this gown, and mark it as evidence. Case number 496. Got it?”

  “Sure. Will do. Case 496.” Officer Kent replies.

  Then the sergeant walks back the way he came.

  My heart sinks as I watch him walk away. Well, at least they have the Rubik’s cube. Maybe they’ll find some prints, who knows? I then turn as I suddenly realize something.

  “Sarge!” I call out as I hurry after him.

  I see him turn and look back at me.

  “Please, wait. I saw the men who did it. I can identify them.” I offer.

  “All in good time, Miss Brookes.” He says and then looks at me more closely.

  “When was your last meal?” He asks.

  I shrug. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a decent meal.

  “That’s what I thought.” He reaches into his wallet and gives me a wad of bills. “Go and get something to eat, you and your friends.”

  Before I can protest, he turns and walks through a door marked as Strictly No Admittance.

  I turn and head outside through the double-doors.

  Mitchell, Paul, Stuart and Beth all huddled together by a police car, enjoying the sunlight. They’re also wearing blue jeans and an SFPD t-shirt. They look over as I approach.

  “Hey, guys.” I greet as I get closer. “Whose hungry?” I ask as I hold the cash in front of me.

  I follow my nose and find a burger joint a couple of blocks away. We order and take our trays to a window booth.

  My mouth is watering as I inhale the smell of grease and melted cheese.

  I almost choke on my own saliva after the first bite. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry before. And judging by the silence as we all eat, they haven’t either. I eat slowly, savoring every bite. The burger is so juicy, I have to wipe my chin with a paper napkin every couple of bites.

  “That, was amazing.” Paul says and sighs with contentment as he sits back in his seat.

  I finish my last French fry and take a big gulp of Coke.

  Wow. I’m starting to mist up. I have missed this so much.

  “Speaking of amazing.” Beth says, breaking me out of my reverie.

  “Yeah, how the hell did you bust that cage open?” Paul asks.

  “And how did I punch through that wall?” Mitchell asks.

  “You didn’t punch through the wall, you obliterated it.” Stuart adds.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But my guess is, it’s got something to do with those meteorites.”

  “Hey, I just noticed. Your eyes have changed.” Mitchell says as he looks at me.

  “I know.” I say and take another sip of my Coke.

  “Do you think we all have powers?” Paul asks excitedly.

  “I hope not.” Stuart says.

  “We should keep this to ourselves.” I say.

  “You think?” Beth says.

  “Yeah. I mean, what do I say? Oh, hi Mum, I got superpowers from a piece of space rock. Ain’t it cool?” Paul says.

  “Subtle.” Stuart says and chuckles.

  “We better speak to the others too. We wanna make sure we all keep quiet.” Beth says.

  “Agreed. Let’s go.” Mitchell says and rises from his seat.

  We find the majority of them waiting outside in the parking lot when we return.

  Some see me and rush over. They thank me for getting them out of that hell-hole. I smile politely and ask them to keep what happened a secret.

  “I unlocked the cage, okay?” I say to all of the other survivors.

  “You may find that you too can do things that you couldn’t do before,” I add.

  “Don’t be afraid. If we can control this new power, then it can be useful.” I say, just as Officer Kent comes walking over.

  “Hi.” I greet him as he stops near us.

  “Hi, everyone. The F.B.I. are on their way over, so we’re going to need you to speak to them.” Officer Kent says.

  “Oh, one other thing. The press…” His head turns.

  I hear the sound of several cars heading our way. “Damn, they’re already here. Everyone inside, now, please.” He says quickly and begins to usher us towards the police station entrance.

  I look over my shoulder as we head towards the precinct. I catch a glimpse of CNN on the side of a van that is pulling up in the parking lot as I follow everyone back inside.

  When we get inside, we’re herded down the corridor to the door that has the Strictly No Admittance sign on it.

  “How did they get wind of this already?” Officer Kent mumbles to himself.

  He knocks on the door and it opens after a few seconds. He holds the door open as we walk through. We’re back near the interview rooms again. The door slams shut behind us, making some of the young ones jump.

  “Sorry.” Officer Kent says, and then walks past us.

  The sergeant turns a corner further along. Seeing us filling the hallway, he heads over.

  “The Press are here.” Officer Kent tells the sergeant.

  “Damn,” The sergeant replies gruffly. “The F.B.I. will be here any minute.”

  “Any good news from the crime scene?” I ask.

  His face tells me already that it’s not good news.

  “Everything’s destroyed. Sorry.” The sergeant replies.

  “Maybe the Feds can find something?” Officer Kent says.

  “Hmm.” The sergeant says, and then turns to head back the way he had come.

  “Wait.” I call out. ”There’s something that I want to do.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Officer Kent asks me.

  “I have to know.” I reply.

  He leads me through a throng of reporters and cameramen, to his squad car. I climb in, and he slides in and starts the car. He drives out of the station parking lot, then joins the traffic flowing west.

  It takes about thirty minutes before we get to the hospital. I walk behind as I follow Officer Kent through the hospital. It doesn’t take long.

  We get out of the elevator on the third floor. We’re met by a young man in a white coat and black pants. He’s wearing a dark green rubber apron and surgical gloves, and is in the process of eating a shiny green apple when he walks over.

  “Good afternoon, Officer.” The man greets Officer Kent.

  “Hi.” Officer Kent replies as we walk over.

  “Please sign in.” The mortician says and points to a ledger that lies open on the counter.

  Once we’ve signed in, we follow the man through two double-doors.

  “I hope you’re not squeamish?” He says bluntly, as he leads us into a large rectangular room.

  The smell instantly changes from sterile to putrid as soon as we’re inside. Several metal tables lie in the center. Only one metal table is empty. There are forms hidden inside black body bags lying on six tables. He leads us to the first one. He takes a bite of
his apple as he unzips it.

  “Geez!” I gasp and quickly hold my nose.

  “Yeah, they’re a little cooked, huh?” The mortician chuckles with a mouthful of apple.

  He reveals the contents of the body bag and steps back.

  “Do you recognize him?” Officer Kent asks me.

  I hold my breath and step closer. My god, this is gross. He looks like he’s been barbequed. His skin is black and peeling back in some places, while his forehead and chest are red, like a lobster. But his features look familiar enough.

  “Yeah. He was one of the gunmen.” I say and step back.

  I quickly turn away and close my eyes. I take a deep breath and then nod.

  “Next.” I say as I fight to overcome the nausea rising up inside me.

  I hear the zip as the guy closes the body bag. I’m then led over to the next table. I take a deep breath through my mouth while I pinch my nose. I close my eyes to try and get myself together, then I hear the body bag being unzipped and pushed back. The smell is just as bad. I open my eyes and step forward while clutching my nose. I nod and step back.

 

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