“That’s a pretty useful talent to have.”
“It is.”
Quill stopped barfing long enough to wipe her face off with a piece of discarded paper. “Where are we going again?”
“Reno, Nevada,” Angela replied. “Stander gave us the exact location.” She cocked her head to one side and stood stock still, her mouth slightly ajar. “Yeah, got it,” she said as she walked to the corner, peered around the corner, and came back. “No one’s out there. We’re fine for now.”
Easy for her to say she was fine, Paul thought. Early mornings didn’t agree with his constitution, as a light sifting of snow was on the ground and it was bone-chillingly cold. His teeth began to chatter, and he wrapped his arms around his torso in order to retain a little more body heat, but knew he wouldn’t last long out here. While stamping his feet in order to keep the blood flowing, a thought occurred to him. “Didn’t he say the military banned the research on chambers?”
“So what if he did?” Quill asked. “Does that mean we can’t use them?” The expression on her face changed to one of heartbreak.
“It means,” Angela said, as she turned around to look her in the eye, “that he might not be allowed to use what they’ve confiscated. And we don’t know if Ooze has been able to repair one. All we know is he’s going to try.” She glanced up at the sky. “Sit tight. I’ll be back soon.”
A second later, she disappeared around the corner. Quill leaned against the wall. “It’s like a bad dream, you know? I wanted to be someone. I wanted to be—” she stopped, bit her lip, and her eyes began to glaze over. Her face lost all expression and now resembled a stone idol.
“What?” Paul was freaked out by this sudden turn. “Are you okay?”
Quill’s voice came out slowly, as if she’d fallen into a trance. “I…remember something. It just hit me. I lived in…San Diego. My name is… My name is Brianna.”
Information given, she blinked again and the drugged-out look disappeared. She shook her head, and when she looked up, her eyes were bright and full of wonder. “My name’s Brianna. I can’t remember my last name, but yeah, that’s it.”
This bit of good news made Paul temporarily forget about the cold. Perhaps the drugs they’d used on her were wearing off. No drug lasted forever. “Hey, good to hear, and maybe—”
A honk from a car horn interrupted his bout of praise. Angela cruised over to them in a station wagon. “Here’s our transportation. I, uh, borrowed this.”
Quill-Brianna giggled. “Borrowed?”
“Hotwired it, actually,” Angela replied. She pointed to her head. “Downloaded knowledge comes in handy when you have to steal a car. It’s got a full tank of gas and it’s got extra gas tanks in the trunk. Hop in.”
They did, with Quill taking the rear seat. She squirmed around in order to find a more comfortable position and immediately passed out. Paul slid into the passenger side. “Buckle up,” Angela ordered. “If I don’t stop to sleep, it’ll take around twenty-seven hours. Next stop, Reno, and no, we’re not going to Area Fifty-One.”
With a flourish, she threw the car into gear, and they motored off. Paul tried to keep his eyes from closing, but with the warmth of the car and the rocking motion, coupled with his fatigue, he soon slipped into the clutches of unconsciousness, and he welcomed it.
****
A lurching movement woke Paul. Instantly alert, he glanced out of the window. It was night, and Angela had pulled off the highway onto the side of the road behind a large sign. She wasn’t in the driver’s seat, so perhaps she’d gone out to reconnoiter the area. Quill was still sleeping, so he got out and swung his arms around in the frigid night air in order to loosen up.
It wasn’t easy, as he’d been sitting for a long time and everything felt stiff. As he shook out his legs, he gazed in front of him, taking in the lonely highway, the trees bare and empty and the desolate appearance of the countryside. A number of questions ran through his mind. Will we make it in time? Will Peterson be able to carry out his master plan?
He had no answers, and time always seemed to be working against them. “Angela,” he called out softly.
No answer came, and he wondered if she’d ditched them. “Where are we?” he muttered.
Taking a look at the sign, it read Topeka Joe’s—The Finest in Coffee and Donuts.
Dorothy, it looks as though we’re in Kansas. He was tempted to say that if his girlfriend ever came back, but he didn’t know if she’d get the reference. And where was she, anyway?
Still cold and stiff, he was about to get back in the car when Angela’s voice from overhead called out, “I’m back.”
“Where’d you go?”
She dropped to the ground in a graceful move, holding a paper bag. “Guess what I found not too far from here?”
“You didn’t actually walk into a restaurant and buy that, did you?”
She gave him an arched-eyebrow stare as if he’d just asked the dumbest question of the century. “No, two people were coming out of a fast-food place, and one man put this bag down to look for his car keys. I just happened to be flying by and—”
“You took it.”
Grinning, Angela replied, “Yes.” The grin then disappeared and she assumed a practical air, putting her hands on her hips and delivering the information in a tone of a newscaster reading off the latest stock report figures. “Look. We’re fugitives, we can’t go into public places and you need to eat. So does Quill.”
Paul told her about Quill’s memory coming back, at least in part. “She said her name was Brianna. That’s all she could remember.”
A nod came his way. “Well, at least she remembers something.”
For the last few hours, he’d been debating whether to tell her about the cellular breakdown effect or not. Quill—no, she’d never be able to handle it—but his girlfriend would understand. Quickly, he related what Peterson had told him, and Angela’s eyes shone with sympathy. “Poor kid, she doesn’t know?”
“I don’t think I’d want to,” Paul answered. He’d been wrestling with the idea of telling Brianna-Quill, but hadn’t brought himself to go through with it. In a moment of supreme optimism, he figured she had around eleven months to go before time truly ran out, and he was counting on Ooze to make everything work. “But if we can get to Reno, then the chamber might be the answer to change her back.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s a plan.”
As she opened the car door, she suddenly doubled over and clutched at her stomach. “Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. Her face had gotten even whiter, if that was possible. “Can you make it?”
A grunt of discomfort emerged from her lips. “Let’s get going.”
It had been more than twelve hours. “You need your shot.” He tried to keep the worry from showing, but couldn’t. “I can drive.” She waved him off.
“You’re a lousy driver, and to answer your question, I need my shot, but I can keep it together for a few more hours. While you two were sleeping, I filled up the gas tanks. We’ve got enough fuel. I’ll make it.”
“You can always bite me,” Paul offered.
Angela gave him a smile as they got in. “Yeah, and even before you transformed, you tasted pretty good.”
Her comment made him feel hot all over, and in order to not sweat and stumble out a response, he switched to a more pertinent topic—Peterson’s findings and the enzyme in her blood holding the key to immortality. Her eyes widened with shock. “Me?”
Her exclamation woke Quill-Brianna up. “What’s going on?”
“Dinner,” Paul said, giving Angela a wink as a sign to keep quiet. He passed the bag over to Quill, and she snatched it from his grasp.
“Oh,” she said, opening it and laughed with delight. “Hamburgers, there are four hamburgers…and fries, too!”
Angela muttered something about being just another lab
test subject, then fell quiet and focused on the road. As they drove along at a fast but steady eighty miles per hour, he turned around and asked, “Uh, what do you want us to call you?”
“Quill’s okay,” she replied with her mouth full. “It’s cool that I remember my name, but until I turn human again, I’m keeping this one.” She passed the bag back, burped and lay down. “Thanks.” Soon, she was snoring again.
At least she’d left half the food. Paul ingested his share in a minute and shifted around to find a more comfortable position. Angela drove fast but surely, drove with a grim purpose and he figured with luck, they’d be in Reno in about ten hours.
“Now that Quill’s asleep and you’ve eaten, tell me why Peterson changed you back if my blood is so important,” she asked, as they changed lanes and got onto a different highway. She glanced in the rearview mirror and checked the lanes for oncoming cars, but there seemed to be very little traffic at this time in the morning.
“He said the mixture was the key,” Paul answered. “Yours and mine, and he thought the combination would be stronger. But yours is the key to, uh,” he searched for the right words, “molecular stability.”
A grunt of discomfort escaped her lips. “I swear, when we face off again, he won’t be leaving the fight alive.” She threw a glance in his direction. “Are you into some music? We haven’t gone dancing in a long time or listened to music.”
Her tone sounded so winsome, so lost… “Yeah, keep it low so Quill can sleep.”
Switching on the radio, Angela searched around and finally came up with a station that played the Golden Oldies. “Does this sound good?” she asked, as a ballad by a trio of singers started.
The chorus of Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow filled the car. It was a sad yet touching ballad, and Paul liked it. “I think it’s good,” he said. “If you like it, then it means it’s good to you.”
Nodding, she continued to drive, but a few seconds later, the music was interrupted by a flash news report.
“And it has been determined that the escapees from the holding cell in New York have been positively identified as Paul Wiseman, his girlfriend Angela, a sand being and a junior member of the team, a porcupine girl—”
“Her name is Quill—or Brianna, you moron,” said Paul, then he chastised himself for rebuking a radio. If that wasn’t the height of stupidity, he didn’t know what was.
“These four members comprise the Nightmare Crew,” the announcer continued. “An additional member, a being known as Ooze, is also on the wanted list, and its whereabouts are unknown. The rest of the members are wanted in conjunction with causing a number of injuries, as well as fatalities, in the altercation the other night in Times Square. They are considered to be highly dangerous and should be approached with extreme caution.”
Their physical descriptions followed, and in a fit of pique, Angela smashed the radio with her fist. “Wonderful, now we’ve got the whole country after us.” She continued to grouse about how ungrateful people were, and Paul closed his eyes and tried to shut out the noise…
Only to be awakened by the erratic movement of the car. “What’s going on?” he asked, then blurted out, “Oh crap!”
Angela’s body was draped all over the wheel. Paul frantically push-pulled his girlfriend back in her seat and took control of the steering wheel, guiding the car off the highway and down the off-ramp.
“What’s…?” Angela woke up long enough to ask the question, and she pushed Paul out of the way. “Hang on,” she cried. They took a detour into an underpass. There, she stopped just shy of the concrete piling. “Can’t go on,” she gasped, her face ashen. “Sorry.”
Wordlessly, he held out his arm. “You have to.”
“I won’t take much.”
As she’d done before, Angela’s fangs came out and she fastened her mouth around his wrist, biting into it. A brief stab of pain came, along with a cold feeling sweeping up his arm and invading his body. Yes…yes…he felt that connection again, something deeper and more primal than sex, closeness beyond closeness, an exquisite kind of intimacy only they knew about. It was sweet and deep and… He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the moment.
“I’m finished,” Angela said, and ripped off a piece of her cape to bind the wound closed. “Are you okay?”
Paul opened his eyes. A slight sense of fatigue remained, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “Yeah, we’re all good.”
She wiped her mouth and kissed him. “I’m good, too. Let’s get out of here.”
Angela started the engine then got them back on the highway. Once they were underway, Quill popped her head over the partitioning. “Like, did you guys just have sex or something?”
Immediately, Angela blushed and a pink hue suffused her features. Startled by the question, Paul mumbled something about Angela drinking his blood and how good it felt. His answer received a ‘humph’ from Quill.
“I know I’ve got a messed up memory,” she said, “but I remember from sex-ed class that if you’re gonna have sex, drinking blood has got nothing to do with it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Getting It Back
Angela drove steadily. The influx of new blood gave her the energy she needed, and Paul felt pretty decent as well. Quill slept most of the way, and they stopped only long enough for the requisite bathroom breaks and occasional stretches for their tired and cramped muscles.
Their trip took them through the rest of Kansas and on through Colorado, where they tasted the freshness of the air. “We’re going to enter the Salt Flats later on,” Angela announced. “You know what they are, don’t you?” she asked Quill.
“Uh-huh,” she answered. “I think I do. I sort of remember seeing them in my school textbooks.” A troubled expression settled over her face. “I just wish I could remember my school’s name or where it was. I mean, like, you guys had families, didn’t you?”
“Not me,” Angela said. “I was created from a stem cell…but I have a family with Paul and Ooze and Sandstorm. They’re all pretty decent.” She reached over to squeeze Paul’s arm.
The gesture wasn’t lost on Quill, as she laughed. “Yeah, so you’re into him. That’s cool. Paul, you have a family?”
He didn’t see any reason to give her the gory details. “No, I don’t, just the same people as Angela. They’re all I need.”
“Can you remember anything else?” Angela was sitting in the passenger side while Paul spelled her at the wheel for a few hours. “Your last name, maybe?”
Quill shook her head. “No, just… Wait, I remember something about a mountain.” She blinked rapidly and scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, it was a mountain, but it was dark inside, like I was underground. The air smelled old…musty… Is that a word?”
“It is,” Paul answered. “Maybe what you’re remembering is Peterson’s main base. I wish we knew more.” He kept his eyes on the road, endeavoring to drive carefully. It was night time, around seven-thirty, and the air had turned frigid once again after they’d moved just beyond the border of Utah and into Nevada.
Not only that, but there were patches of dark ice on the road along with snow, and occasionally the car slid and he had to wrestle it under his control again. They’d be at the airport by midnight, if not before. He only hoped everything would be ready.
“Yeah, me too,” she affirmed. Settling back, she drummed her fingers on the seat and then changed to a brief bongo drum impression before asking, “So, are you two going to get married?”
Change of theme meant major embarrassment. As before, a bright pink hue swept over Angela’s face, and Paul cleared his throat a number of times. “Well,” Quill pressed. “Are you?”
Paul glanced over at his girlfriend. “Are we?”
“You want to?” Her voice came out hesitantly, almost shyly. Angela was nothing if not forthright, but now she’d suddenly gotten reticent.
&n
bsp; It was a big step, but the way he figured it, they only had one life and he was certain of one thing. He loved his girlfriend more than anything, and he didn’t want to be without her. “Yeah, I do, and when this is all over, powers or no, I’d like to get married.”
Quill clapped her hands like a little girl. “Cool! I can’t wait to see this.”
Her words, so innocently spoken, made Paul all the more aware of the passage of time, the transience of life, but most important, the need to hurry. He’d live, either as a hybrid or a regular person, but Quill, she needed to…
“Paul, look out!”
Angela’s cry made him look up and he saw seven soldiers standing in a straight line right in the middle of the road. They wore bright Day-Glo orange uniforms and carried rifles.
“Crap!” The cry came involuntarily as he swerved to avoid hitting them. The station wagon fishtailed off the road and into a field, where he managed to bring it to a full stop. He sat back, breathing heavily and thanking his lucky stars.
The soldiers marched over and stood in front of the vehicle, holding up their hands. “We need you to step out of the vehicle and get on the ground,” they said in unison. Their voices sounded robotic, making Paul think of something he’d seen on television about clone wars and aliens taking over.
“Why are they all speaking at once?” Quill asked.
Good question, and one that no one had an answer to. In a flash, adrenaline began to course through Paul’s body, and he broke out into a sweat. Breathing deeply in order to calm his pounding heart, he wondered what to do. These guys weren’t attached to any particular unit, were they? “Uh, Angela, does your download tell you anything about the uniforms those guys are wearing?”
After the soldiers had repeated their order, she cocked her head to one side and tapped it as if to draw out the information. “I can’t find anything about them. Let’s get out and ask.”
They got out, and the soldiers immediately took two lateral steps away from each other. Angela wondered aloud, “What is going on here?”
Integration Page 17
