Abomination

by E. E. Borton

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “If anything else happens to her, I won’t be the only person I can’t forgive. After I lost my mother, Emma is the closest thing to family I have left.”

  “Try to get some rest. We’ll be starting early.”

  Michelle walked Ryan to the door. “Do you think she’ll try to contact her?”

  “I don’t think so, but you need to make sure she doesn’t.”

  “What did you do with her phone?” asked Michelle.

  “We threw it away,” smiled Ryan as he left.

  *****

  “Yes, I’m sure. According to the GPS in her phone, you’re right on top of it.”

  “Okay, but we don’t see her out in the open – wait.”

  The men heard rustling in the dumpster a few feet away. One held up his finger to his mouth as he pulled his weapon.

  “Stand by. We may have found her hiding place,” he whispered into his radio.

  One man held his gun on the large container as the other quickly flipped open the lid. Pointing his flashlight into the garbage, he looked down to see their two missing associates bound and covered in blood. On the severely swollen face of one, a cell phone was duct taped to his forehead.

  “Fuck,” said the man holding the gun.

  “What’s your status, Blue Team? Do you have her?”

  “Negative. But we did find her phone and Red Team.”

  *****

  “Colonel, we’ve got a problem,” said Alex Tifton, walking in to the secure operations center at the Michaels Laboratory in Bar Harbor, Maine. “Dr. Anderson slipped away, but she seems to have acquired some help.”

  “How do you know?” asked Colonel Marcus Brown.

  “Two men from Red Team were just found beaten half to death, bound, and thrown in a dumpster with her cell phone taped to one of their foreheads. I don’t think she did that.”

  “Jesus Christ,” said the Colonel, rubbing his temples. “Those civilian security people are about fucking useless. We should’ve picked her up the same day we rounded up the other scientists. What I should’ve done was sent you. I knew this would bite us on the ass. If she talks and somebody with half a brain puts two and two together, that’s the end of us.”

  “Who could’ve taken her?” asked Alex.

  “It’s not Ryan’s team. They never left New Orleans. Besides, the deputy director would’ve told us. It’s obviously not us, so who else would be looking for her?” asked the Colonel.

  “You think Joshua or Derek took her, sir?”

  “At this point, I’m hoping it was them. They want to kill everyone who had any involvement in the Didache project. That includes you and me. We have the other three scientists secured here, so they may have simply chosen the easiest target as their first. No telling what’s going through their sick minds.”

  “Does this change our plan?”

  “Not the end result, but we do need to speed things up,” said the Colonel. “I want you to head to New Orleans tomorrow alone. I’ll let you know how to bring Elliot out in the open for the feds. If you can give me another head shot like Arrington’s, we’ll have this mess cleaned up in a few weeks instead of months. Go get your gear ready. I have to make a few phone calls.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  *****

  As the sun was peeking over the horizon, Kristina walked downstairs in search of a cup of coffee. She was wafted by an aroma of French vanilla when she reached the landing. She was also startled by Dallas who was moving quickly through the hallway.

  “Morning, Doc,” greeted Dallas. “I hope I didn’t wake you?”

  “No, I’m usually an early riser, but I’ll give you a million dollars for that cup of coffee.”

  “Here you go,” said Dallas, laughing as he handed her his cup. “Haven’t taken a sip, and it’s on Uncle Sam. Ryan brought it over a few minutes ago.”

  “Is he here already?”

  “Yeah, he’s on the back porch with Michelle and Tom. I’m going to be running around the house for a little bit installing your security system. Go ahead and take this,” said Dallas, handing her a small device resembling a remote keyless entry for a car. “There’s only one button. When you press it, an alert will be sent to our phones, along with GPS locating data. We’ll test it before I leave.”

  “That’s very James Bond,” said Kristina, walking toward the back porch. “Good morning,” she said to the agents sitting outside on the deck.

  “Go back inside,” said Ryan, standing quickly and startling her.

  “Sorry,” she said, closing the door.

  Michelle pressed her lips together and started shaking her head as Ryan returned to his seat. “That was a little harsh.”

  “What was?” asked Ryan, oblivious.

  “She’s had a rough couple of days because of you,” explained Michelle.

  “Because of me?” said Ryan, looking puzzled.

  “Yeah, because of you,” she repeated. “Let me break it down for you. You, a stranger with a badge, show up while she’s having a nice visit with a friend in a bookstore. You tell her four of her former patients have turned into raping killers. Two goons try to kidnap her and put her friend in the hospital. You then tell her she can’t go home or contact anyone and drag her to New Orleans without even a toothbrush or a change of underwear. You ask her to voluntarily turn her life upside down and she does. After all that, she comes outside with a smile and a good morning to us. And what do you do? Bark at her like a child to go back inside while the adults talk.”

  “Well, you certainly put me in my place,” said Ryan.

  “You’re welcome. And Dallas makes fun of me for being single?”

  “Thanks for the guidance,” said Ryan with a smile. “I need to talk to her alone for a few minutes. I’ll come get you when we finish so she can help you with the profiles. Tom, would you mind running out and grabbing some breakfast for us?”

  “My pleasure,” said Tom.

  Ryan walked into the kitchen and found Kristina sitting at the table reading a newspaper. She didn’t raise her head to look at him while he warmed up his coffee. He grabbed his notebook and files and sat at the other end of the table.

  “How did you sleep?” started Ryan.

  “I slept,” she responded, not raising her nose from the paper.

  “Tom’s going to grab us some breakfast. He’s pretty good at covering the basics, but if there’s anything special you’d like, I can let him know.”

  “I’m sure whatever he gets will be fine.”

  “Kristina, I’m sorry for snapping at you,” said Ryan, sensing her irritation. “But we can’t run the risk of anyone seeing you here, not even on the back porch. You came out with a smile and I ruined it pretty quickly. Sometimes I can be a little insensitive. I am sorry.”

  “I understand,” said Kristina, finally looking at him. “Your delivery sucks, but I understand.”

  “Thank you. I’d like you to take a look at these files,” said Ryan, sliding the stack of folders toward her. “I have to warn you, they’re very graphic.”

  She opened the first folder labeled with Peter Arrington’s name. Her eyes opened wide and she took a deep breath to maintain her composure. A wallet-sized photograph of Arrington was paper clipped to an 8x10 photo that captured the shredded body of the young woman killed in Syracuse. She flipped through a few more pages and then closed the folder.

  “He didn’t do that,” she sighed. “He’s incapable. I worked with him almost every day for years. He did not kill that girl.”

  “He’s killed men in combat, Kristina. I also witnessed him cut the throat of a woman he kidnapped and tied to a bed. When we tried to stop him, he ripped apart two of my agents with his bare hands. I assure you he’s capable.”

  “When he and the other four were chosen as test subjects, they had to go through an intense psychological evaluation,” said Kristina. “They had to have certain characteristics most people don’t possess. I understand he had to k
ill in combat, but he hated it. He truly hated it more than the others. He didn’t become a Marine to kill; he became a Marine because he’s from a long line of Marines. It’s what the men in his family do. We talked for hours about his wartime experiences. He had a kind heart and was a good man. You’re trying to tell me he just snapped?”

  “They all did. All except Alex Tifton. There’s no doubt they’ve snapped. The proof is in front of you. I was hoping you could tell me why. I was also hoping you could tell me why Alex didn’t.”

  “I still can’t believe Peter was capable of what you’re showing me. It really doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Would any of them be capable?” asked Ryan. “Because I don’t believe Peter killed that woman in Syracuse either, but I do believe one of them did. If you had to choose, who would it be?”

  “Ryan, it’s just my opinion,” replied Kristina. “You can’t take my word for it. I mean, I’m a scientist, not an FBI agent.”

  “I understand. But you know more about these men than we do. So right now I’m just asking for your best guess.”

  “Joshua Bell,” answered Kristina. “He was different from the others. He was much more aggressive and would even bully the security guards posted in the lab. Sometimes he tried to make it look like a joke, but he would provoke them so he could show off his abilities. One guard had enough and took a step toward him. Before any of us could say a word, he had him on the ground. I thought he was going to kill him. Derek knelt down and whispered something in his ear and Joshua let go. He helped the terrified man to his feet and started laughing as if he was playing around. But we all knew differently. If Derek hadn’t had been there, I think he’d have really hurt the guard.”

  “I received a phone call right before we arrived at the house last night from my boss,” said Ryan. “You had a pretty rough day, so I didn’t tell you the reason for the call. I wanted you to get some rest.”

  “Okay, I’m rested. Go ahead.”

  “You’re wanted in connection with these murders,” said Ryan.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’m afraid not. I was informed you were in a relationship with Joshua for several months and you may know his location. I was also told you may be assisting them in some way because of that relationship. Now, I obviously don’t believe that’s the case. But I was wondering why they might have chosen to name Joshua as your boyfriend.”

  “It wasn’t for his lack of trying, Ryan. That’s another reason why I suspect he’s responsible for the brutality in those photos. There was hardly a session that went by where he didn’t try to make a move. After several turndowns, he seemed to get easily angry with me. He’d say things that made me uncomfortable, but I never reported it. I just wrote it off as some kind of Marine bravado, but I did make sure we were never alone. I can only describe it as a creepy feeling.”

  “Did the others make advances toward you or any other women at the lab?” asked Ryan.

  “No, not at all,” she responded. “I even think Derek picked up on the situation and kept a closer eye on me.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, he also made sure Joshua and I were never alone. Like I told you, most of the men around me think I’m frail. I guess Derek was no different. Peter, Richard, and Alex thought the same. They’d look after me like big brothers.”

  “Did you guys ever go off the compound?”

  “Once,” replied Kristina. “It was my birthday, and they wanted to take me to dinner. Other than the creepy vibe from Joshua, they really were great guys. We had a few drinks at the bar after dinner, and if a guy even looked at me, he had five big Marines circling him. I don’t have any siblings. It was kind of sweet the way they looked out for me.”

  “Well, you’re about to have another group of guys looking out for you,” said Ryan. “My team and I can’t risk exposing you by hanging around. There’s a possibility the bad guys may try to keep an eye on us as well.”

  “Another group of FBI agents?”

  “No,” said Ryan. “A close friend of mine from my Marine days now owns a security firm. They’re all ex-military and mainly do contract work for the government overseas. He’s the man responsible for the jet that picked us up in Richmond, the security system Dallas is installing, and a few other critical items. I trust him with my life. He knows everything, including you being wanted by my own agency. His team will be here later this evening.”

  Tom returned to the house with several bags of breakfast food. Ryan brought him and Michelle up to speed on the conversation he was having with Kristina. He instructed them to spend the rest of the morning with her working on Richard Elliot’s profile. Dallas completed the security system installation and tested her panic button. Everything was in working order. The entire group sat at the dining room table, attempting to enjoy the meal.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” said Ryan, taking his last bites. “Scott wanted me to ask you about Colonel Marcus Brown. He said you weren’t a big fan.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” she said. “He’s another one of the reasons why I left the project. And it’s not because of what he did to me. It’s because of what he was doing to them. I’d hear the speeches and pep talks he’d give them when it came time for them to sign waivers on a new round of experimental therapy.”

  “Waivers?” asked Dallas.

  “Yes. They have to consent to every new procedure we introduce. There are guidelines to human testing set up by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. The Michaels Laboratory itself was subject to unscheduled visits by investigators from a Congressional Oversight Committee. We operated under very strict rules and regulations. Colonel Brown did everything in his power to bypass those rules. He wanted maximum results in much shorter periods of time.”

  “Dallas, let’s do a little digging and find out more about the security group assigned to the lab,” said Ryan. “Michelle, any luck on the phone records and IDs from our two dumpster divers in Baltimore?”

  “Not yet,” responded Michelle. “It usually takes a few hours, but add a couple more since I’m circumventing normal channels at the Bureau. I should have an answer shortly.”

  “Good,” said Ryan. “We need to know who they are and who’s giving the orders. Tom, I’d like for you to stay with Kristina and go over some of the more technical questions about her work at the lab. You’re the biggest nerd on the team, so I need you to absorb it and then dumb it down for me when I get back. Also, get a preliminary profile created on Elliot. He still needs to be our primary focus while we’re conducting our own investigations on the side.”

  “Will do, Boss.”

  “Let’s keep our eyes and ears open,” said Ryan. “I have a funny feeling this town is going to get more crowded the closer we get to Elliot. I want to know who everyone is that decides to show up at the party.”

  10

  Unquenchable

  Richard Elliot was on his knees with his head over a large bucket quickly filling with blood. The average human body holds roughly ten pints. He consumed over six of hers. His own body was rejecting the massive amount of metallic tasting liquid refusing to settle in his stomach. A final wave of nausea passed through and he rolled onto the floor exhausted after wiping his mouth with a crimson rag. He forced himself to look over at the drained body of his last meal.

  The burst of endorphins and adrenaline which coursed through his veins as he tore into her flesh were subsiding. The reality of what he did to the beautiful young woman was replacing the euphoria of the kill. Richard began convulsing and crying as he looked into her lifeless blue eyes only a few feet away.

  He saw the large hole in the side of her neck where he ripped through her skin with his teeth to start his feeding. He kept her alive as long as possible so her beating heart would force the blood out of her body and into his. When her heart mercifully stopped, he sucked harder to bring more fluid to the wound. After the first source was depleted, he used his clawed hands to punch into her abdominal cavity to re
move her blood engorged liver. With his insatiable thirst still unsatisfied, he used rags to absorb any fluid left inside her open torso and squeezed the last few ounces of her into his mouth.

  He didn’t disembowel and consume her out of unbridled rage or sick ritual. In the chaos of his mind, her body was just a vessel that held the substance he craved. In the chaos of his mind, the woman he abducted was merely a container. If he was a junkie, she was a porcelain doll stuffed with heroin. But what he craved was the blood running through her veins.

  As he lay at her side crying, he welcomed the pain shooting through every electrified nerve as his grotesque clawed hands and fangs began receded back into his body. The swollen blue veins under the pale skin of his face and neck started disappearing beneath the surface. It would take several minutes for his features to return to their familiar human color and tone. His fangs retracted quickly into the roof of his mouth, but it would take another several minutes for the elongated bones of his fingers to be reabsorbed into his hands. The process was excruciating.

  After thirty minutes, he slowly rose to his feet, unable to look directly at her anymore. He took his false teeth out of a small plastic container and pushed them into place. The people responsible for his transformation didn’t take into account that the spaces needed for the fangs to fully deploy were already occupied by teeth. During the first mutation, the pain was so intense the teeth had to immediately be removed. Shortly after the first episode, they tried to remove the fangs. They grew back stronger four weeks later.

  Richard pulled himself together and walked into the backyard of the abandoned house located in the middle of the still deserted Lower Ninth Ward in New Orleans. When the levees failed during Hurricane Katrina, the house he eventually turned into his lair was under six feet of water. Even though there were efforts to rebuild the devastated area, Richard was isolated for over a mile in every direction. Curfews were still in effect, and it was only on a rare occasion a patrol car or survey crew passed within a hundred yards. His keen senses greatly enhanced by the genetic alterations alerted him to any presence. Richard could easily avoid detection and was free from any interruption for weeks at a time.