“What?” Jaxon roared, his eyes wide, jaw open. “You have one here? Where? Where is he?” He could feel a soft pressure start in his chest as he stepped forward, nearly in the man’s face.
“Calm down.” Duncan gently pushed Jaxon backward by his shoulders. “He’s locked in a room in the basement. Mari is guarding him.”
“Why aren’t you getting answers out of him?”
“We already have,” Aaron said. “Seriously, I’d think mind reading would be a power people remembered.”
“I want to see him. I want to talk to him.”
“What for?” Duncan asked. “We know what we need to know.”
“Such as where Vance is? How we can stop him?”
“No, no, nothing that big.” Duncan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This one doesn’t know where Vance is hiding.”
“Bullshit,” Jaxon spat. “He knows. Get it out of him. You can’t just ask. Is he tied up? I can get answers, I’ve been practicing my—”
“We’re not monsters, Jaxon,” Duncan said quietly, his eyes hard.
“He has to know.”
“Not true,” Aaron said. “Just because he’s one of Vance’s doesn’t mean he knows where he is. Hell, if Vance is in hiding, then why would this man be out in the open? He couldn’t have taken every single employee with him. There’s no reason those not being protected would know Vance’s location.”
“Well, he’s got to know something.”
“I can’t dig into people’s minds,” Aaron said. “I can hear what they think, though. We used keywords to trigger thoughts, but came up with only a little information. We know he worked for Vance, we know he was on the sidelines of your infiltration in Redborough, and good God, is he hell bent on finding the love of his life before you do.”
Chapter Twelve
THEN
1986
June helped me arrange my mother’s funeral. She was so caring back then, so perfect. In February of 1984, she moved in with me. I found out Eric, my go-to guy for transfers to steal ATM passcodes, had been fired because of all the missing money that happened to disappear hours after he was on site. I want to tell you I felt bad, but as I was mourning the graphic loss of my mother at the time while trying to keep June happy throughout my sometimes crippling depression, I can’t say that I felt any remorse. Eric quickly slipped into the back of my mind, and I began to steal the identities of elderly men and women, sucking their accounts dry without a trace before they even knew what hit them.
I know, I know. Coward. Liar. Asshole. That’s me. I do make up for this stuff, though. Promise.
By Christmas of 1984, I had proposed to June, and we married in April of the following year. I don’t even want to bother saying what day. A few months into our marriage, I realized that I’d been overlooking how much time June spent at work, especially late at night. She told me countless times the project she was working on was highly classified, which I never questioned. At that time, I trusted her completely, but her absence at home as well as how she was always too worn out to have sex for weeks at a time, continued to weigh on me until I decided to transfer into her one day.
It happened shortly after I got off the phone with her on a warm July evening.
“Another late night, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah. Sorry, babe.”
“When do you think you’ll be home this time?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“The way you ask when I’ll be home ‘this time.’ Makes you sound upset.”
“Maybe I am.” I frowned. We’d had our share of fights, and I could always tell when my stubbornness was about to clash with hers.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be. I’m pulling in the money for both of us, here. You haven’t had a job since your mom...well...it hasn’t been exactly fair.”
Her words stung. I’d told her I’d lost my part-time job after Mom had died and I was hospitalized. Sure, I could have created another fictional job, but the ruse would have been difficult to keep up once June had moved in. I could have gotten a real one, true, but I didn’t see the need, and boy, was I stubborn.
“Whatever,” I said. “I won’t wait up for you.” I slammed the phone down and paced in our apartment. We had upgraded to a two-bed, two-bath after getting married, and now, I stalked into the living room and flipped on the television set. For a moment, I considered walking to the video rental store to pick up a couple movies for the night, but an idea formed in my mind, stopping me. I have the power to check on her.
I’d never transferred into anyone close to me before. I never did it to my mother, or to June. I just found it to be not only too invasive of their privacy, but I really didn’t want to see them doing anything gross. Not like I wanted to see anyone doing anything gross, but for some reason it felt way worse on my end if it was one of them.
I relaxed on the couch. Let my mind drift, eyes closed. Moments later, I was looking down at June’s elegant right hand as she scribbled words and shorthand on a pad of paper. She was at a desk and I relaxed. I watched her write a bit longer, the words not meaning anything to me at the time. I enjoyed the little things in the transfer, such as the feel of the smooth paper underneath our hand, the weight of the pen in our fingers, how our hair felt as we tucked it behind one ear. Suddenly, a door opened, and we looked up. A tall dark-skinned man with black hair poked his head into the office we occupied, and smiled.
“Well hey,” he said, grinning. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“I’m always here, Frank,” we said, and capped our pen.
“Doesn’t your husband get worried about you, always away from home?”
“Of course he does. But there’s always something to be done around here.”
The man named Frank smirked. “I’ll say.” He sauntered over to our desk and sat on it, brown eyes trained on ours. “So how about you stop what you’re doing and let me take you out, hmm?”
“Out? Out where?” There was a soft lilt to our voice as June spoke.
“I’d take you anywhere.”
We giggled, much to my irritation. “Oh?”
Frank nodded, a vile grin on his face. “I’d take you to get some food, or to see a movie, or for a walk in the park.”
We smiled shyly.
“Or even just right here, on this desk of yours.”
We laughed, and I snapped back into my own body, fury in my heart. Without thinking, I stormed to the front door, grabbed the keys to my car, and left, slamming the door behind me. I quickly made my way to the Buick - no I hadn’t upgraded yet, hush - teeth clenched, mind caught up on how June had giggled at Frank’s advances instead of pushing him away, or telling him to leave her the fuck alone because she’s married. Hell, he knew she was married, so what does that tell me? He knew she was easy regardless of the ring on her finger. I got into my car, turned the ignition, and slammed my foot down on the accelerator.
My tires screeched as the Buick lurched into light traffic. I swerved in and out of lanes, took corners too sharply, all while my mind dredged up image after image of June on her back on her desk, Frank buried between her naked legs. Fury flashed white in my vision, and more than once I nearly collided with another driver, but I quickly arrived at the gate where I often dropped my wife off when I needed the car and she didn’t want to take a cab to work.
“Hiya, Bruce,” the lone man in the booth to my left said. “Haven’t seen June come out yet, she expecting you?”
“She is,” I said, managing to keep my voice flat and even.
“I’ll call up there and—”
“Can’t I just go in? You know who I am.”
“Sorry, bud, not without direct clearance.”
“From my wife?”
“Or anyone higher up.”
I waited, engine on, as the man used a phone to call someone. I always forgot his name, mainly because I’m so awful at remembering them. I stared forward, trying to keep my b
reathing steady and regular. The man, barely older than me and in army fatigues, hung up the phone.
“In you go,” he said with a crisp smile and single nod. I looked through my windshield and watched as the large metal gate slowly swung open.
I drove along a ridiculously long and winding gravel road through a mass of dense trees and foliage. A few more curves later, I found myself suddenly staring at a small, light grey, concrete square with a single door and two windows with bars on them. I slowed to a halt and exited the car, keys in one hand. Was this it? Or was I at some weird side location? Or hell, their storage shed? I walked forward, retracing my path along the road, but didn’t remember seeing any side paths branching off of it.
I approached the door, and it swung open to reveal June, dark hair long and straight and smooth, eyes concerned.
“Bruce, what the hell?”
“What the hell do you mean, ‘what the hell’?” I snapped back.
“What’s the matter? Why are you here?”
I looked behind her, but she was alone. I turned and moved away from her, fury returning ten-fold at what I’d witnessed earlier.
“Bruce?” June moved up behind me and slipped an arm around my waist.
“Tell me,” I said as I wrenched free from her embrace. “How’s Frank?” I nearly spat the name at her.
June’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well. Is he going to take you out, hmm? Or just take you on the desk?” I spun around and glared at her, my wrath burning in my chest, ignoring her incredulous look.
“What the fuck?” she whispered to herself. To me, she said, “Are you spying on me?”
Ignoring her question, I replied with, “Are you cheating on me?”
Her angry gaze faltered. “Bruce, how did you overhear my conversation?”
She wasn’t denying anything. For a moment, I thought that, yet again, I might be overreacting, that maybe after I had left her and gone back to my own body, she had turned down Frank. That, however, didn’t make up for the fact that he assumed that she’d hook up with him even though she was married, and my fury returned.
“It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you—”
“Yes, it, does matter, damn it. You can’t spy on your fucking wife!”
“You’re just pissed I almost caught you in the act! Or did I? Huh?” My voice flung through, around, and against the trees as it rose in volume. “Tell me, did he get a quick fuck in before I got here?”
“Back off!”
In my anger I’d gotten toe to toe with her and stuck my face in hers. She shied back, eyes uncertain, but held her ground.
“There is no way you could have infiltrated the building here, so unless there’s a huge camera in my purse I have somehow failed to notice, tell me how you fucking heard my conversation.” She was beginning to tremble. “I didn’t do anything,” she yelled.
My emotions were flying high. I know I shouldn’t have said it. Hell, maybe it would have saved everyone’s lives from that point on had I not, I don’t know. But I did.
“Because I can, that’s how,” I said furiously, and began to walk back to my car.
“Stop.” Something in her voice halted me in my tracks, and I turned back to her. June was absentmindedly touching the spot between her eyes on her forehead as she stared at me. “What do you mean?”
“I can. I don’t know how,” I yelled. “I just can. I saw you in your office, flirting with that asshole.”
My anger started to seep out of me as I realized what I was saying. I felt my face go slack.
“You’re an Evo,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“Bruce, you have to come with me. Quickly. Inside.”
“No, fuck no. We’re not done here.”
“This is bigger than the both of us, please.” June came toward me and grabbed my arm, but I pulled away.
“Look.” She stepped into my personal space, but I didn’t back away. “Yes, I flirted with Frank. He’s a friendly guy. He says those kinds of things to me sometimes, but he does with every woman around here. There’s not a lot of us, and I think it just makes him feel better to have some attention. That’s all, okay?” She grabbed my hand and began to bring it down toward the skirt she wore.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
“After we have sex, there’s stuff down there. Feel for yourself, it’s dry. My underwear is in place. I didn’t do anything, Bruce.”
I stared at her, my hand still in hers, near her thighs, stopped mid-air. Did I trust her? No. Did I want to trust her? Of fucking course. So, stupidly, I did. I pulled my hand away from her and frowned.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“I’m sorry, too,” she replied. She stepped forward and pressed against me, mouth on mine. “I love you.”
At that time, I still loved her, and I told her I did. Then I let her lead me into the building, into Lab 14, straight into the nightmare that awaited.
—-
June led me down a flight of stairs and along a hallway. Everything was bright white, so bright it hurt to look at. My wife brought me to a small side room that led into an office, where her father, John, sat, eyes trained through the viewpiece of a microscope.
“Daddy?” June said, her voice kind and sweet.
“Hmm?” He didn’t look up.
“Don’t be mad...”
Then he looked up. He looked right at me, and stood harshly from his chair, which rolled back at the force and bumped into a workbench a few feet behind him.
“June, what the hell?” he said.
“I know, but listen. I think he’s an Evo.” She walked over to her father and they both stared at me. I felt like a caged animal in a zoo.
“What’s an Evo?” I asked, but of course, they ignored me.
“Baby girl...” John looked down at his daughter, skepticism in his gaze.
“If I’m wrong, we can just wipe him.”
He sighed, then smiled at me. “Bruce.” He opened his arms and walked toward me, then pulled me into an awkward hug. We’d always gotten along, especially during times he and his wife had us over for long weekends at their cabin up in the woods. “Off the map,” they loved to call it when we went there, since it was damn near impossible to get to by vehicle.
“Have a seat.” He pulled up the chair he’d been using, and I sat, slightly dazed.
“An Evo,” June said, “is a person who has evolved past what we consider ‘normal,’ someone who has a certain ability beyond the scope of our beliefs.”
Ah, fuck. I knew it was too good to be true. I guess I wasn’t alone.
She told me they were collecting the DNA from these evolved humans, or “Evos” as they called them, to create some kind of superhuman to populate battlefields in war. They wanted the upper hand against the enemies, and were hell bent on creating people who could read minds, who could phase in and out of time, ones who were extremely strong and fast who could heal quicker than the rest of us. As she spoke, she looked at me as if I were a child about to throw a fit. I thought the whole thing was freaking cool.
You might be wondering why I didn’t doubt anything she was saying. I’d like to draw your attention to the way I’d been gaining a shit ton of money over the last four years. I knew they were telling the truth because it was the only explanation of my ability that made sense. Well, the only one at all. Simple enough. Anyway, the short of it was this: they wanted my DNA. After, of course, proving my ability to them.
Throughout that night, June’s possible indiscretion forgotten for the moment, I showed them how I could transfer into other people. I first used them as they sat in a different room and looked at objects I couldn’t see from where I was. Then I flung myself into lab animals in the lower level and described what they were doing while June and her father watched them on surveillance screens. After a few hours, a bit past midnight, they finally gave me a break, mainly because my transfers were getti
ng harder to hold and shorter in length.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?” June asked after her father left to get a sample kit.
“Hi, my name’s Bruce, I’m a freak. Yeah, that would have gone over well.” I grinned at her, then looked away.
“I get it. Still.” She smiled.
I didn’t meet her gaze.
“Hey,” she said softly. She took my hand. “Hey, come on. You can’t still be mad.”
With a scoff, I said, “Why not?”
“Because we’re on the verge of creating our very own Synth together. And I didn’t do anything.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. What?”
“I told you, Frank was—”
“No, not that.” I waved a hand. “Our own Synth?”
“Synthetic.”
“I know, I know. We’re creating one? Now? Why?”
“Why not? All we need from you is your DNA. We’ll store it, and tomorrow the scientists can use it to create a Synth.”
“Neat.”
“No shit.” She grinned at me, then sat on my lap. Her weight didn’t bother my legs in the rolling chair, but her closeness made me uncomfortable, only since the hurt from her flirtatious night was still fresh. Nevertheless, I let her wrap her arms around my neck and look into my eyes. “Kind of like our own baby,” she said.
I blinked. “Whoa, that’s a little fast.”
“What?” She laughed. “Three years together isn’t enough time?”
“I mean, I guess.”
“Besides, it’s not really going to be our kid. It will be born here, in the lab, raised here, and trained for war.”
“Isn’t that a little...inhumane?”
“So is war.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, June. This is all happening, like, really, really fast.”
“You don’t have to even do anything.” She rose from my lap as John came into the room. “Just give us your DNA and we’ll do the rest.”
There was a whole five seconds in which I resisted the temptation to make a super cool, totally awesome super child who would grow up, be cloned, and fight in wars for our country. Do I have to repeat that sentence? A super cool, totally awesome super child. Fighting for our country.
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