Dark Reality 7-Book Boxed Set

by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

Chapter 8

  Gabriel and Yoshi journeyed from Motuo County to Pai Village on foot. They traveled along ice- and snow-crusted trails, and endured cold that, though warmer than usual, blistered nevertheless. But Gabriel remained unbothered by the elements, or by the fact that he could no longer feel his feet. He would not stop walking until they reached Pai Village. Pai Village promised modern conveniences he hadn’t enjoyed in recent months. Electricity, indoor plumbing, phone and Internet connection awaited him there. Internet service was what connected him to the rest of the modern world, and to Melissa.

  Thoughts of Melissa had kept him moving along frozen paths, and had kept his heart warm along the way. He fantasized about hearing her voice, and envisioned her smiling face as she spoke. He had not had the privilege of hearing her voice in quite some time. The weather had been too harsh, the conditions too dangerous for travel. This particular trip had been unexpected but welcome. He and Yoshi were headed for a local Internet café. There, he would either call or message her depending on the time of their arrival.

  After what felt like an eternity spent walking along a frozen jungle, they reached Pai Village. Pai Village was a stark contrast to Motuo County. Bustling with people and filled with modern shops, the area was thriving and lively. Though he appreciated the energy of the village, he could not wait to get to the café. He also did not like how the villagers stared at him and Yoshi, how those who roamed about the streets browsing in local shops took notice of them immediately. Their clothes and travel gear along with most elements of their appearance suggested rural heritage, and for that reason, neither of them blended in. But most people focused their attention on him rather than Yoshi. They eyed him from head to toe, scrutinized him intently. Passersby studied his attire, but their eyes invariably focused on his face, lingering on it longer than he was comfortable with. In the last five months, he had become accustomed to the treatment he received in Motuo County, how the villagers expressed appreciation of one another subtly and silently, respectfully. Such discretion on the part of the Monpa people allowed him to forget that his maker, Dr. Franklin Terzini, had endowed him with superior genes, that his construct was branded as superior. He cringed at his maker’s hubris, his narrowed scope of vision that allowed him to think only in absolutes: superior or inferior; subordinate or insubordinate; for Terzini, there was no in between. In Motuo, a member of the community was judged primarily by his or her contributions to the group, by his or her achievements. Whether it was the family they raised, the art they mastered or the animals they drove across the region, the Monpa people placed tertiary value on physical appearance. In fact, the majority of homes did not even possess any form of reflective glass. Gabriel respected their values. And he loathed his reflection.

  As he walked through the heart of Pai and the area became more densely populated, he became increasingly uneasy. His face, deemed aesthetically perfect by Dr. Terzini, was a constant reminder of his plight, the never-ending question of his being. The bane of his existence rested in one question: was he, in fact, human? He had not been born of man and woman. He had not been conceived by conventional methods. He was the product of deception and thievery blended with genius, created without emotion to weed out what his maker condemned as “imperfections” in humanity. His advent was an offense to the highest deity religions prayed to. Gabriel was well aware of the circumstances. Yet, feeling had evolved within him. A conscience developed in spite of being conditioned otherwise. He felt human by every definition of the word. But his origins continually plagued him, his worries exaggerated by the unwanted attention he received as he moved toward the Internet café on the corner.

  “There it is,” Yoshi said excitedly. “I’m surprised you’re not running.”

  “Believe me, I’d like to. But I don’t want to draw attention to us, you know. I want to blend.”

  “Oh yeah, Gabriel, no one is paying any attention to us. We blend,” Yoshi replied sarcastically.

  Gabriel turned to his friend and shoved him.

  “Let’s not get started here, Gabriel, then we’ll really draw attention to ourselves,” Yoshi said returning a shove then gesturing to his otta.

  Gabriel laughed. A trio of women turned and stared at them, then just at Gabriel. The women nudged one another and whispered then giggled. Gabriel did not understand what they said; their dialect was foreign to him.

  Yoshi smirked and rolled his eyes as the women giggled and continued along.

  “What was that all about?” Gabriel asked.

  “They like the way you look,” Yoshi replied.

  “Oh.”

  “It’s not a bad thing, Gabriel. I thought Americans like it when others find them attractive.”

  “I can’t speak for the population of an entire country, but I’d rather disappear in a group.”

  “Good luck with that,” Yoshi said mockingly.

  “You know Yoshi, when I first met you, you were much quieter. Now you’re a smartass as we say in America.”

  “Smartass, huh? That’s a swearword, right? And it’s generally considered insulting if I am correct.”

  “You are correct.”

  Yoshi did not pursue a verbal response. Rather, he smiled and erected his middle finger to Gabriel.

  Gabriel laughed aloud then said, “Case in point, my friend.”

  Gabriel and Yoshi opened the door to the Internet café and were met with bright overhead fluorescent lighting and over a dozen kiosks. Each cubicle housed a desk, computer terminal and chair. For a small, timed usage fee, Gabriel was granted access to the outside world, to Melissa.

  Yoshi seated himself in a booth and Gabriel occupied a stall right beside him. His hands trembled as the computer wheezed and sputtered to life. He would e-mail Melissa first and hope that she received it on her cell phone. If she were available to talk, he would call her immediately from a landline phone. He could not wait to talk to her, and hoped his timing was okay. But before he started typing, Yoshi tapped him on the shoulder.

  “What the hell Yoshi? I’m in the middle of something here! What is so important?” he said sharply.

  “Check the Harbingers Herald archives. That’s what’s so important,” Yoshi replied levelly.

  Gabriel did not know why, but he felt his heart sink in his chest. He often scanned the Harbingers Herald archives, the local newspaper of Harbinger Falls, before they left the cafe for stories that might hold significance to him; stories that suggested Terzini had resurfaced.

  As he skimmed the headlines, one from several days earlier caused his breath to catch in his chest. He blinked several times, certain that his eyes had somehow deceived him. But they had not. The words raged impossibly from the Harbingers Herald website. “LOCAL TEENS MAKE DRAMATIC RETURN” the front page from the previous day read. Below it was a picture of Kevin Anderson, Chris Mace and John DeNardi.

  Gabriel felt his mouth go dry. He tried to swallow but could not. The back of his throat blazed. The room began to spin. He struggled to regain his composure, and focus on the words before him.

  The article continued and explained how three local teens, all celebrated athletes, from Harbingers High School had disappeared mysteriously and were believed dead according to an eyewitness statement. It stated that, although no bodies were ever recovered, the circumstances of their disappearance had been suspicious and that the police department, along with the entire town had feared for Kevin, Chris and John’s safety and well-being. In an interview with the Harbingers Herald reporter, the three had claimed to have been spending time abroad. They had stated that they had made an impulsive decision to travel overseas together without bothering to inform their parents, friends or family. In the interview, they had apologized profusely for causing worry to those closest to them.

  Gabriel’s mind reeled as he stared at the monitor. What he was reading seemed impossible. He had seen their corpses firsthand after Eugene had attacked them. He had
been running for his life and hadn’t had the time to stop and inspect their bodies. But judging from the condition of the bodies he’d glimpsed, they had been dead. Their bodies had been so badly beaten, so dreadfully positioned, that survival had seemed impossible. They had been dead. Gabriel had been certain of it.

  As he quickly searched his mind and replayed the scene in the woods from five months earlier, no doubt had existed then that Kevin, Chris and John had been killed. But now, he hesitated. Uncertainty began to invade his thoughts. A new idea began to present itself, an idea that was more stirring than three teenagers surviving an attack and deciding to travel abroad. He began to worry that Dr. Franklin Terzini was responsible for their dramatic return.

  The room began to spin again. Thoughts raced through his mind, disjointed and unclear. Terzini’s possible involvement suggested dire circumstances. It also meant that Terzini had not upheld his end of their agreement. He began to doubt what he’d seen in the woods behind Harbingers High School five months earlier. As far as he had known, Terzini had not had the ability to resurrect someone from death; he could only form them from their most basic building blocks. Furthermore, if Kevin Chris and John were re-creations, Terzini would have had to have taken their bodies from the woods unassisted. Too many questions existed, too much doubt abounded surrounding that fateful fall night. He suddenly realized it would be necessary for him to see for himself whether their return was as they had stated in their interview, or if something far worse had happened.

  A sharp pain in Gabriel’s hand distracted him, forced him to look away from the computer monitor. He had been unconsciously gripping the desk with such pressure that the flimsy corrugated wood began to splinter and had speared his hand with one of its jagged shards. He glanced down and noticed that a rivulet of red trickled from his hand. His hand smarted and bled, but he ignored it. He did not waste time dwelling on his bloodied hand, a more important matter pressed. He needed to read on.

  Gabriel frantically scrolled through the archive, traveling back in time farther and farther until he reached November of that year. He scanned several articles frantically searching for one in particular. He stopped when he found the article concerning the ambulance explosion the day he left in late November. The article stated that the bodies of two paramedics had been recovered. Though burned beyond visual identification, their dental records had indicated that they were Robert Hernandez and Joseph McCauley. The body of the unidentified patient they had been transporting had never been recovered; he had been presumed dead.

  The details of the patient’s condition were topped by the sensational nature of the accident, and as a footnote, the piece commented on the lives, careers and contributions of the paramedics. Gabriel did not need to read the name of the patient in the ambulance that exploded. He knew it had been Eugene, that it had not been a coincidence his body had never been found and that the drivers were dead. He had always assumed that Terzini had been responsible for the accident, that he had taken Eugene’s body to conceal his research. He just never understood how such a feat had been possible, and why two men had had to die in the process. If Terzini had been capable of taking Eugene’s body, then he would have been capable of finding a way to take Kevin, Chris and John’s bodies as well.

  Staring at the article from November, nothing made sense in his mind. The timeline, the ambulance explosion, the disappearance of the patient, the return of Kevin and his friends, nothing added up. Melissa’s safety could no longer be guaranteed. She was in danger.

  Trembling with rage, he rose from his workstation and tapped Yoshi’s shoulder. Yoshi removed his headphones and turned to face Gabriel. His eyes registered understanding in them.

  “Melissa is in danger, I need to go,” Gabriel said levelly.

  “We will go then,” Yoshi said.

  “You’re not going with me to America.”

  “You’re not going without me. You’ll need all the help you can get. I just need to tell my family.”

  “There is no time to return and tell your family, Yoshi. I have to leave now.”

  “I see,” Yoshi stated solemnly and hesitated.

  “You go back. Go be with your family. This is not your fight, Yoshi.”

  “If it is your fight, then it is mine as well.”

  “No Yoshi. This is not a sparring match. This is real. There is a good chance you will never return here alive. You have a family who needs you.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Yoshi attempted sarcasm. “As you are well aware, I am a much better fighter than you. I trained you, remember. So I’ll come back to Motuo County when I’m ready. Furthermore, you will not be risking my life. I’m going with you because you need my help and we are brothers.”

  “Yoshi, that’s nice but,” Gabriel began.

  “But nothing,” Yoshi interrupted. “And don’t go getting all misty-eyed on me, Mrs. James. I said I’m going, so I’m going. End of discussion. We’ll go to America and end this once and for all. Then you can show me the skyscrapers and roads paved in gold as planned.”

  “Fine, but we need to leave now.”