Rise of Aen

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Rise of Aen Page 13

by Damian Shishkin


  “Good morning, Sara Foster.” He said in a dull voice as she was but a few feet behind him. Sara was sure she hadn’t made a sound; she had taken great care in being stealthy.

  “How did you…”

  “It helps if you don’t sing and dance up the path before you decide to sneak up on someone. I heard you from about a hundred yards out.” He turned to her with a sly smile. “You are probably the happiest person in the whole boneyard.”

  For the first time, she noticed the glint of blue in his hair and the texture of his skin; both seemed to be…off. Sara couldn’t put her finger on it, but she sensed that this character was different somehow. All her instincts were screaming that something was wrong. Again she caught the faint scent of ash on him.

  “Kinda cloudy to wear sunglasses, don’t you think?” She had decided on a humor-based question to start with to test the waters of his personality. Hundreds of questions rolled about her mind, but she tried to focus in on the facts; and right now she had none on this man.

  “My eyes are sensitive to light,” he replied instantly. “Whether it is cloudy or clear, I wear these so I don’t get migraines.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said moving forward and extending her hand in greeting. “You seem to know me but I know nothing of you. You are…?”

  “Aen, my name is Aen.” He said accepting the greeting and shaking her hand. As soon as his skin made contact with hers, she felt an electric charge come over her. Not only was his touch familiar, but also there was an energy about him—literally.

  “That is an interesting name. Where are you from?”

  “Nepal. I was raised in a monastery up in the mountains.” He said as he motioned for her to join him on the bench to chat. Aen was amazed at how she had grown in the past few years in his absence. She was a bit taller, but not much, and her face had narrowed a bit as she had become more fit; less hanging with the girls and more working out he guessed. All in all, his baby girl was now a woman.

  “My mother said she didn’t know you, she didn’t recognize you when I described you last week and she knew every one of Dad’s friends.” She threw the challenge down, eager to hear the response.

  “She wouldn’t know or recognize me, as I met your father after that day.”

  Sara’s blood ran cold. She knew the day he was talking about just from the way he said it; the day they said he had died! This man knew her father from after that day, which meant…

  “Is dad still...alive?” she asked with tears in her eyes.

  “I am sorry Sara, but no. He did pass, but not when they said he did. Aaron Foster gave his life to let me live,” a minor truth, but there was no way Aen would tell her the full truth, not yet. “In my mind, he is a hero and that is why I come to mourn him.”

  Sara was in shock; everything she was fighting to learn was true! His death, the cover up, even the hefty insurance policy; it was all there. But why? Why was it done? She needed to know more and decided to push this man further to get the answers.

  “You need to tell me everything, now!” she said as she looked at him with anger and eagerness all in one. He could feel her heart pounding through the bench; her excitement was palatable.

  He responded by sitting up a bit straighter; craning his neck about as if he was looking for something or someone. “Not yet, but soon,” he said as he rose to his feet. “I am charged with yours and your mother’s well-being, and I will make damn sure you are safe from any and all repercussions before you can know the truth. Right now, you are not safe.” He said starting to walk away. “But that will change very shortly.”

  Watching as he walked away, Sara was dumbstruck. This man had come in and dropped a bombshell on her and then just left. She turned to her dad’s tombstone and wondered to herself what had really happened and what had become of him. Then she turned her gaze back to Aen, only to discover him gone. For the second time, he had just vanished! Now she was really confused and she began to feel very insecure. He had said she was in danger and Sara instantly thought about the threat made to her boss and her about pursuing this. The surface of all this had only been scratched and for the first time, Sara was truly afraid at what may lie beneath.

  VA Medical Center, Washington D.C.

  The air was crisp and clear, the day was warm, and the birds were singing beautifully in the garden. Emily Phillips sat in her wheelchair, enjoying the natural beauty of the garden plaza of the Veteran’s Hospital in Washington D.C. as for the first time she could remember she could be free of the confining bed and the infernal beeping of the machines inside. Today she was free, today she could be outside and away from the memories that haunted her day and night.

  The voice of the alien woman had never left her mind since that dreadful day, and her message robbed Emily of any sleep unaided by drugs. Even then, the thought of what was coming was almost too much for her to bear. But for the most part, she’d been able to keep herself together and apply every bit of strength she had into her recovery.

  Five surgeries in nine months and hundreds of hours in physiotherapy had resulted in her finally starting to walk again—with a great amount of assistance of course. Pain was a way of life for her now, it was there when she awoke and stayed with her in varying degrees until she fell asleep each night! Her legs were scarred from the surgeries; once her favorite part of her body, they were now a criss-cross pattern of scars and stitches.

  But today she was leaving that all behind. No physio, no white walls and hard bed—just fresh air and green grass along with all the splendors of nature. Today was all about her mental well-being and the want to be anywhere but cooped up indoors!

  The crunching of the rock pathway gave away the approaching orderly before Emily laid eyes on her; as the sound announced the arrival of breakfast. The woman, petite with a fake smile, drew closer with the food tray in her hands.

  “Perfect day for a meal outside, Major!” the woman exclaimed in her dreadfully cheerfulness. “Do you want me to help you over to the table here?”

  “I can do it myself, thanks.” Emily bit back the need to reach out and choke the annoying little bitch of a nurse; she had a deep rooted hatred for fake people and this woman was one of the worst she had ever encountered. “Just leave it there, please.”

  The nurse did as she was asked and set the tray down before stepping back to allow Phillips to wheel herself towards the table. She just hovered momentarily before piping up once more.

  “Oh, and you have a visitor waiting to see you! Shall I tell him to wait until you are finished eating or shall I send him out right away?”

  A visitor! Emily had only had her parents visit her every weekend since she’d been transferred here and today was Wednesday. “Do you know who it is?” she asked curiously as she sipped her dreadful cup of hospital coffee.

  “He didn’t give his name, but he looks like Special Forces if you ask me.” The nurse replied in her chipper tone.

  Emily thought to herself quickly and decided that any company was good company right now. “Tell him to come and join me, if you would be so kind?”

  The nurse nodded with her fake smile and went back to the nurse’s station inside. Emily sat and picked through her food—stale toast, an orange, fake bacon and simulated eggs, not what she’d ever call fit for rations—when she felt a presence beside her. Startled that she hadn’t heard any footfalls on the path, she spun the chair around and slowly looked up at the man in dark body armor and a trench coat standing looking down at her. When she saw his face, she gasped and nearly fainted. It was him!

  “Major Emily Phillips, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” He spoke in a low, rolling voice. “May I join you?”

  “Why are you here?” she managed to stammer out nervously.

  “To meet with you, of course.” He replied coldly. “Been visiting some of the old gang; fun times! Not for them, of course, but you ge
t the picture.”

  “Are you here to kill me?”

  “That is yet to be decided, Major Phillips. I was hoping to pick your brain a bit before making any decisions.” He sat on the chair across from her as the iron creaked under his weight.

  “They will come if I scream for help.” Emily nodded in the direction of the doors leading to the hospital.

  “I would be long gone and you would be dead before they could react to those screams, so why even waste the breath? Besides, my mother chose to take pity on you and I would like to see what makes you worthy of it.”

  “I…I see.” She stuttered, in shock of how calmly he leveled the threat towards her. “So my life lays in my answers to your questions?”

  “No, your life was forfeit when you helped those monsters do this to me!” he pulled off his glasses and the eyes that haunted her dreams peered right through to her soul causing her to recoil slightly. “Our talk here is your way to cleanse your soul.”

  The hair on her arms rose up—Emily could feel the energy pulsating from this man sitting across from her and knew how powerful he could really be. He was in control here and he knew it! She just had to do what he said and hoped it would be what he wanted. “What can I tell you?”

  “Why me?”

  She sighed. She knew that question would be the first. “Because you had a genetic anomaly that helped you not only recover quickly from traumatic injury, but one that made you 99% compatible with the host subject. Finding you was like winning the lottery for our project.”

  “And that gave you the right to take me from my family and torture me? That’s right, it was for the greater good, I’m sorry.”

  “No, Aaron, it’s me who is sorry. For too long I stood by and watched you get ripped apart and made anew. For my part in it, I hope you can find forgiveness. Even with my injuries, I feel I haven’t been punished enough!” Tears streamed from her eyes as she poured her heart into the apology.

  “Interesting, the first one spits in my face and the second throws herself at my feet.” He spoke aloud, but clearly to himself as he stood up and took a few steps away. “Tell me Emily, did you know the full scope of the project? Do you know why they made me?”

  “At first no, but once I saw them milk you for DNA to make others I figured it out quickly.”

  “But the one in charge, this General Taylor, had no clue at what he’d made, did he?”

  “None of us did. But the prospect of alien life was so terrifying. We needed a response.”

  “It is not my mother’s people that pose the danger to your world, they were only here looking for me.”

  The tears had slowed, but still fell down her cheeks, leaving streaks of moisture behind. Emily was finally able to release all her pent-up emotions at long last, still she wondered if they would be the last she ever felt. Slowly she eyed him up, dressed in a deep grey suit with a long overcoat. His leather coat obviously was hiding a weapon or two; she noticed the bulges instinctively as he sat. Her eyes rose slowly over his face; his eyes were covered in black sunglasses that gave nothing away, and his hair tousled slightly in the morning breeze in waves of black, with bluish highlights—all the while revealing his elfish tipped ears from time to time.

  “So what do you have planned?” she asked, still wary of the predator before her.

  “For now I seek peace and quiet, but I am still considering a bit of revenge. Got a taste of its sweetness the other day and I must say I enjoyed it.”

  “And after you have killed us all, then what?” she was uneasy challenging such power, but her back was against the wall here. “You mother told me about an old enemy that would come and overtake us. Will you not help us then?”

  “You, as a military organization, no—I will leave you to wallow in your corruption.” He said with a quiet calm. “You seem to lack the sense of the big picture and how minute this world is in that context. Governments have built themselves high and will be the first of many parts of civilization to fall as the heavens rain down.”

  Aen sighed and stood up once more. “But humankind is worth saving, Emily Phillips. I believe that because of the memory implanted in my head of your kindness to my mother, despite the circumstances. There are many worth saving; the bright and adventurous, the passionate and the kind; all of which are being drowned by the ignorance who seek to lead you for their own personal gain. So yes I will help you fight, but I will also let those who deserve to die.”

  “So where do I fit in those categories?” she asked as he began to walk away.

  “That depends on your choices between now and then.” He said cryptically as his attention diverted to a beeping sound emanating from his gauntlet. “Time is running out for the world you know. It may be days and it may be years, but the darkness looms and it is certain.”

  “So you are letting me live?”

  “I’m leaving you to fight, whether you live or die depends on you.” He was at least twenty feet from her at this point when he turned back to face her. “I would make arrangements to leave soon, they are closer than you think.”

  “How much time do we have?” she asked, reaching out to the stranger in desperation.

  “How much do any of us truly have in this life, Emily? It just matters how you use the time you have and not waste it. I thought I had all the time in the world, and then you came for me and took it all away. What’s different from us is that a few of you will see the darkness and truly understand it, before it’s too late!”

  Before she could respond, the man disappeared in a bright flash, leaving her alone in the courtyard. The few nurses that were watching the exchange came running out frantically, babbling nonsense about what they just witnessed. Emily ignored them and began to make a checklist in her head of what to do and where to go. She had been given a prophetic warning and was damn sure she wasn’t going to waste any more time here in this hospital!

  SEVEN

  Rocky Mountains, Utah –

  Military Installation Code Named White Rock

  It was dark tonight, much darker than it had been of late. An overcast sky helped the matter as it kept the usual shining stars wrapped up in a smothering blanket and held the mountain range in a black coldness. Standing on the roof of the facility, General Patterson couldn’t help but notice the symbolic nature of the sky. It held all the characteristics that recent events held over the once vaunted project, and he hoped it wasn’t a foretelling of the fate of all involved.

  What was once the most celebrated of all the black operations, Star Child was now the new textbook case of the worst-case scenario. Yes, they had achieved the impossible. They had created the perfect soldier and combined the DNA of humankind and an alien. But then, due to poor management, they had let it get out and now had to deal with the repercussions of this creature being out there turning its power back on them.

  “How do you fight this thing?” he asked the darkness, not expecting it to answer but more to vocalize frustration. “How do we get you back on our side?”

  “Sir?” Davis’s songbird voice chimed in behind him. He was amazed that he had been so distracted that he hadn’t even heard her approach. Everyone was frazzled and he had to show composure to right the ship, so to speak.

  “How can I help you Sergeant?”

  “I hate to add to your worries, but we lost contact with the team following the daughter sir.”

  His head hung a little lower as he remained focused on the dark horizon. “Get a search team mobilized and...”

  “We don’t have to, sir, we found them already.”

  This was the first bit of good news he had in a few days. “Well, get them back here and debrief them on their absence then.”

  She hesitated and he knew instantly something was wrong. “That will be difficult—they are in the city morgue.”

  Now he was incensed; not at Davis of course, but he wonde
red what the hell was going on. “How? What happened?”

  “Both their necks were broken; quite forcefully—the heads were nearly spun right around. And there was a message for you on the bodies; the P.D. wouldn’t open it as soon as they realized this was a government affair.” She said as she handed him the note.

  Snatching it from her hand, Patterson dismissed her with a nod and waited for her to be gone before unfolding it. It was handwritten, and like she had said made out to him. He sat down on the helipad as it was the only light out here and began to read.

  General Patterson,

  I believe we had a misunderstanding about the proper distance to be given to myself and my former family, a misunderstanding I hope that is no longer there. I had warned your men on the consequences of harassing them, but as I suspected, you failed to listen. I hope I have your attention now.

  Let me make my expectations clear: this fight is between you and me. They are to be left alone, period. Harassing them, spying on them, even using them as bait to lure me is unacceptable behavior and will be met with escalating force—and the pile of bodies I will deliver to your doorstep will be staggering.

  If you have any doubts about my conviction on this, know that I had a wonderful evening at your granddaughter’s piano recital. She is a lovely child, very talented. My family’s safety and peace for yours; quite a fair trade, don’t you think? I’m glad you agree.

  Now, let the hunt begin. Let loose your dogs as you try and chase me and know that I will be waiting. Let us see who is hunting who and which one of us is left standing for the dark days yet to come. Odds are you and I will speak again.

  Your friend,

  54

  His granddaughter, the fucker was threatening his granddaughter. How did he know? Patterson’s files were so top-secret that there were four people, including the president, that had clearance to read them and know any family details. He had to warn them and get them to safety. He silently wondered what the hell they created here. The stakes had been raised, and it was his turn to move. Patterson knew he had to be careful; this was no fox hunt he was on, this was the hunt for a tiger and this one had home field advantage

 

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