Dark Genesis (Shadow and Shine Book 1)

by Danial Hooper

“Why?”

  “Don’t know why. I wish it were that easy. All I know is they took them, and at no point are we allowed to use guns.”

  “Not allowed?” Greg asked. “Who exactly is making the rules here?”

  “I know what I know, buddy.” That little Mona swag came out with her sassy smile. Baby sister was losing her patience with this dude. “I know we’re not allowed to. I know that breaking the rules is catastrophic. I know guns are not an option for this group. This is not up for discussion or debate. We clear?”

  “Crystal. You sound like you’ve got this all figured out. Glad we have you on our side.” Greg replied. He was trying too hard to be against Mona, either Tink was going to bust him in the mouth or the group was going to have to ask him to leave.

  “Thank you, Greg. Does that make sense, Harry? Guns will not be an option for us, unfortunately, but we won’t need them. We won’t be defended by weapons or power.”

  “Oh, well, I just would feel better about it. That’s all.” Harry said. Tink liked him. He was rough around the edges, for sure, but the old man was definitely willing to listen to Mona, and stick up for her too.

  “So then, what about for people without special abilities?” Greg asked.

  Mona sighed, she was getting tired of Greg, probably not as much as Tink. She said, “Stay close to someone who can defend you. Otherwise, you die.”

  Mickey stood, his eyes were big and he spoke very timidly, “Yeah, I uh, I have a question. Doesn’t seem like anyone else is asking the most important question to ask…”

  “Go for it, Mickey.”

  “What are the wolves, I mean, really?”

  “Thank you for asking, Mickey,” Mona said. “The simplest answer is; they are what happens when all of the goodness inside you leaves and only the darkest aspects remain. They’re chained by darkness. Their goal is to exterminate life. Greg is right in saying that they are no longer human, no longer bound by the same weaknesses as their bodies were before. They’re lone purpose is to serve the evil one.”

  “Who?”

  “The man in the black suit.” Greg said under his breath.

  “Exactly, Greg. His name is Adam. He’s ground zero. He’s the root cause. He’s the spring of rotten water. He’s the villain. Adam plans on taking over the world. Wolf by wolf. Shadow by shadow. His smile is sweet with decay. His heart is alive with dread. The blood flowing through those wolves belongs to him.”

  The room fell silent. Somehow, everyone knew who she was talking about. Even Tink knew somewhere deep inside himself about Adam and the fear he can produce. Tink wasn’t sure where the knowledge came from, but he knew there was some serious danger surrounding these people.

  Jenna raised her hand, Mona nodded in approval for her to go ahead. She asked, “I have a question, it might not be something anyone else cares about, but I wonder if, I don’t know… how do they become shadows or wolves or whatever you call them? How do people get turned into that? Is it like, just being around him? Or what about like cuts and wounds? Or maybe…”

  “You’re safe, girl. That bite mark needs medicine, but it ain’t gonna turn you into a monster. As you may have noticed, they collect their dead and take them away. I don’t know much more than that. But people don’t become shadows without death. This much I know, at least for now.”

  “Thank you.” Jenna said. Mona’s words took a load off her shoulders. She looked relieved to hear the news about her bite.

  Finally, it was Tink’s opportunity to ask questions, or, at least, ask a question. No more would Mona Leigh Morris dodge him. Tink had a turn. “Yeah, I got a question. If I’m allowed to ask…”

  “The floor is yours, big brother.”

  All of a sudden, his mind went blank. What was he planning on asking in the first place? He didn’t have questions about this. He didn’t have time to think about questions. First he watched his sister kill a dude, well, after driving twenty some hours straight. Then he carried a man into his apartment. Finally, after a few other crazy pieces of business, he got to sleep. No chance to take notes on questions, but now he had the attention. Now was his turn to speak, and everyone was looking at him, waiting.

  “Um, uh… What’s gonna happen next?” he said and shrugged his shoulders like he was a dummy. He wasn’t great under pressure, but at least he asked something. As his sister smiled at him, he realized it apparently was a good question too.

  “Thanks, Tink. As you will remember from yesterday’s newspaper, a very large, very powerful bomb is going to explode over Salt Lake City tonight. If we remain here… we are going to die. There is only one bomb shelter close by that can protect us. It’s located at the capitol building in which we will need access to. As you might have noticed, Asher left early this morning to clear our path. If he does not clear the path… we’re going to die. While he is fulfilling his work, most of you are going out for supplies.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. A bomb?” Greg asked.

  The room was silent. Tink regretted asking the question. A bomb? That’s not what he wanted to hear. He knew this wasn’t going to end here, but a bomb? You can’t just walk away from that. If someone is sending a bomb to your front door, they’re not just trying to kill you, they’re trying to kill everyone.

  “Yeah. A bomb. But if Asher can clear our path, then we have the capitol. We will be in there for a few days.”

  “And then?” Tink asked.

  “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. We have to make it first.” Mona replied. “I won’t know that until we actually make it.”

  “We will need supplies,” Greg said. “Our group has already suffered enough, we should not go without food or water. Let alone Harry, he will need significant medical treatment if he’s going to survive tonight.”

  “I agree. Which is why I need you guys to go out and get supplies. Jenna and Mickey, you’re on food and water duty. Greg and Shelly, please go to the pharmacy for medical supplies. We need to be able to treat Harry’s leg. Tink, you’re going to need to go next door” Mona stood and stretched. She was the smallest person in the room, but she was the biggest too. Tink was proud of his little sister. In this crazy world, she was poised and strong.

  “May I ask one more question,” Greg said and cleared his throat, “who is attacking us?”

  “The United States government is afraid of the wolves. After a long series of attempts to keep the truth away from the American public, they are going to clean up the mess. They tried to convince everyone it was a fire, so they’re going to drop a bomb that creates one. This is going to lead our country down a real bad path. A lot of people are about to suffer because of this.”

  -

  President Watt preferred to have his meetings take place in the Oval Office because the location served as an unavoidable reminder of his title and severity of each decision. In more than one meeting he told Conrad, “This is the bunker of the Free World. In here, we are no longer military leaders but fathers and sons and brothers. We are America and removed from American emotion.” Conrad appreciated this perspective, which meant he was surprised to find out this emergency meeting was scheduled for the Third Floor West Wing Boardroom. Conrad had never even been in this part of the White House.

  He sat outside the room, surrounded by leather-bound books all along the walls, waiting for President Watt. After a few minutes, the wide-framed, oak door opened and in walked Arthur Hale. The hunchbacked Gollum with dyed black hair was one aspect of President Watt’s appointment in which Conrad vehemently disagreed with; Hale offered no experience in military, financial, personal, or leadership but Uriah selected him as Chief of Staff nonetheless. All due to a history with President Watt’s father. Hale was the perfect example of how it was better to know the right people than be the right person. Having the charisma of a hippopotamus meant he would have never won a popular vote.

  “Colonel,” he said with sarcasm. Calling Conrad a Colonel was a mistake made each time so far as to the point where Lieutenant Ser
geant Greene no longer corrected him. Conrad chose not to give credence to the blatant disrespect.

  “Hale,” Conrad replied and walked through the doorway. The room was only illuminated by the large, white screen on the far wall. The table in the middle of the room was surrounded by a number of unfamiliar faces. No one stood to greet him but watched as he crashed their party.

  On the screen ahead was a topographic map of a small country.

  “Lieutenant Sergeant Green, thank you for coming,” President Watt said. He sounded official, as if he was unlike the night before. “Allow brief introductions before we get started.”

  “Yes, sir,” Conrad said.

  Conrad knew the first man as the operator of the largest and most influential media outlet in America. His family also owned half of the European market as well. President Watt introduced him, “Christopher Martin, Director and CEO of Aviant Telecommunications.” Martin did not stand to salute or shake hands. His nod set a precedent for the rest to follow.

  An early forties brunette was next, “Sarah Francis, Senior Chief of Public Relations.” This woman did not react to Conrad either. She did not even look at him.

  They had once run into one another after a press release accusing President Watt of having “too redacted of a past for a future in politics.” She approached Conrad for a comment. Conrad replied with a scolding remarks and a harsh reminder of the role the press was supposed to play. Conrad was surprised to see her here as an advisor, he thought of her as closer to an enemy of the state rather than an ally.

  “Joseph Beck, Founder of BeckFi Industries.” Conrad saw this charming face on the cover of a major magazine last month while at the dentist. Apparently, he was the new face of finance and the one who would formulate the process to get American out of its dredges of debt.

  To his right was a middle-aged man of Middle Eastern Descent, likely Jordanian, “Hemant Chatra. He’s been leading environmental research and projects since I’ve been in office. Not that you’ve had time to read about his expertise, but trust me when I say this man has helped move us into a new age of awareness.”

  Finally, the lone person standing at the table, proudly at the right hand of President Watt, “Sergeant Major Paul Marshall of the Marine Corps.”

  Marshall was the kind of leader who did not simply shoot first and ask questions later. Instead, he was someone who would rather shoot everyone in the room for asking questions while assuming he already had the answers. He held a more decorated military career than any two men in active service, including Conrad. They did not agree on tactics, morals, or much of anything. Yet, they both shared a history with President Watt. Several times the three of them worked together, each time on delicate operations, from Sudan to Yemen to Nigeria, and every time Conrad regretted getting involved with Sergeant Major Marshall. President Watt kept Marshall’s methods more humane than Marshall preferred. Which is why Conrad refused to work with him since Uriah took office. No longer was there someone to hold Marshall at bay. Even his physical stature was massive and threatening. He was built like an ox in a uniform and white hair.

  President Watt continued, “Thank you for coming, Lieutenant. This group formulates my most reliable and trusted advisors. My cabinet has ulterior motivations which are too easily compromised, while these individuals possess foresight and understanding without emotion on key matters of our nation’s future,”

  No one had known Conrad as well as the President, and he must have been able to see the confusion on Greene’s face. President Watt knew of Conrad’s distaste of Marshall. There was a time where he shared those feelings, but now, as an advisor, Paul Marshall could duplicate any level of experience, rank, or knowledge in which Conrad possessed.

  Watt continued, “I do not have to tell you this, but this is a room with no secrets, no agendas, and no record. We disclose all information to one another, and I maintain complete veto power over any decision.”

  Hale’s voice creaked in, “This is a high stakes game you’ve been asked to join, Colonel. The President believes you are up for it.”

  Conrad replied, “I’m honored, but I ask you to please explain why I am here. I appreciate the invitation to the dance, or game, as you’ve said, but I do not see how I fit in with everyone at the table.”

  “Allow me,” Marshall said. “Uriah has expressed his trust in your aptitude in high grade responses to foreign threats. These experts before you, aside from President Watt and myself, do not have the slightest understanding of military strategy. There needs to be another voice in this room as we face an enemy unlike none we’ve seen before. You’ve been chosen to join, as well as potentially lead the operation. Watt gives the final green light, but he believes you are the man to pull the trigger on Operation Red Wave. An event that if handled correctly, will have never happened anywhere outside of this room. Clear?”

  “Clear.”

  Sarah Francis jumped into the conversation, “We supported the decision to bring you on based off your clean and deniable record in combat. Somehow you are one of the most popular men in America despite what appears to be minimal wartime involvement. John Q. Public sees what these people see; you get the job done quietly. It’s your most honorable trait,” She glanced at Marshall, he winked back. “If this is an ailment, you are our second-opinion doctor.

  Marshall followed her statement and said, “With all due respect, you were not my first recommendation, but President Watt values his experience and trusts your judgement.”

  Conrad forced a smile. Obviously, Conrad was not going to be the first choice by soldier more interested in plausible deniability rather than basing his decisions off integrity. Conrad wasn’t an altruistic man, but since he had been in command there had remained minimal casualties and proper representation of national values, even when no one was looking.

  “I hope you’re beginning to gather the gravity of this meeting. No one here will think differently if you walk away now. This is beyond anything you’ve been exposed to before. I’ll need your affirmative to proceed.” Marshal said, looking at the door.

  A meeting with this type of people, about US safety and security was backwards. Why bring housewives to the board meetings? Allowing them to partake in these secret happenings was trite and unlike the Watt of old. The decision to involve people with financial degrees and public relations expertise was confusing and not a place President Watt would typically ask for Conrad’s involvement. Conrad and Uriah served together for over twenty-five years; Uriah never before has asked for Conrad’s advice in the presence of outsiders. He looked to President Watt for validation or a silent acknowledgment of which direction he wanted this to go.

  Unfortunately, President Watt turned to face the screen, forcing Conrad’s decision to rest solely on Conrad’s shoulders. The rest of the room followed suite and looked ahead to the projector, except Marshall.

  Conrad spoke, “Continue, sir.”

  “Roger.” Marshall said, clicking on his small remote and the projector screen lit up. A large dining room restaurant appeared on the screen in low definition black and white. “Miss Francis, if you would, please explain to Conrad the background of what he is about to see.”

  Francis said, “The tragedy of Salt Lake City has been reported as a wildfire caused by faulty equipment and employees. Despite widespread reporting on the severity of the fires, there has been minimal footage of the city. This should come as no surprise to you, but this is no mere coincidence, as we do not want to share footage of Salt Lake City. Rather than being forced to answer questions, we have supplied answers to a narrative we have created.”

  The screen showed an aerial view of Salt Lake City.

  Marshall clicked over to a thermal scan of the same map. It was vibrant with red and orange.

  “This is Salt Lake City, April 7, 2016. Thermal scan shows an estimated two-hundred thousand people.”

  Another slide.

  “This is Salt Lake City, April 13, 2016. What do you notice about the thermal s
can here?”

  Conrad looked at Francis annoyed, “This is not a thermal scan. It is not even in color.”

  “Very observant, Lieutenant Sergeant. Unfortunately, this is a thermal scan, notice the little red blips in the heart of the city where a fire remains ignited.”

  “How?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Greeny.” Marshall said. “How about we let Miss Francis finish?”

  She continued, “As you’ve likely heard, the evacuation of all surrounding cities of Salt Lake City has already taken place. We have relocated all residents within a fifty mile radius. Northern and eastern residents have temporary housing established between Ogden, Utah and Logan, Utah. Western and southern residents between Provo and Cedar City. There is no traveling inside or outside of these safe zones. Communications have been reduced to by-appointment only, allowing us to monitor every call. While we’ve been able to build on a story of limited network availability due to the major towers being burned down, this story is going to be short-lived.”

  “Now Sarah, let’s not pretend we are the only ones with a hand in imposing a communications embargo with the state of Utah. While we certainly…” Christopher Martin said. His smug attitude and condescending voice were obvious reminders of how little this man understood about the world. While he was sitting in on his daddy’s board meetings, Conrad was spending six years in Qatar and other places to remain unnamed. While he was having some pretty girl give him make-up for the camera, the world was a bloody mess. It was people like this who would always keep Conrad from politics.

  “I was getting there, Chris,” Sarah said, she smiled through an annoyed look. Conrad remembered sharing this look with her a few years ago. “As I was saying, we have set up a large-scale, communications and travel quarantine for anyone who could have been impacted by the Salt Lake City phenomenon.”

  Another click. Video footage of a basketball game.

  “But there is also a separate comm-block imposed by a third party. Someone whom we’re convince is behind the disappearances.”