The Immortal Gene

by Jonas Saul

  “We didn’t think so. That’s why a demonstration is in order.”

  “A what?”

  A car screeched to a halt on the highway. Then it made the turn and started up the side road toward them.

  “Here comes Mr. Radcliffe now,” the man said in a maddeningly casual voice, his timbre even, monotone.

  The urge to drop into his car and squeal away overwhelmed Edwin, but he couldn’t. These men were a mystery and without knowing their intentions, he was stuck.

  The truth was, he desperately needed to deal with Terry Radcliffe as soon as possible. To have him lured here allowed Edwin that chance.

  But why? Who were they and why help him kidnap Megan? Nothing added up.

  Terry’s car raced up to them and skidded to a halt beside the SUV. Before the car had fully stopped, the driver’s side door swung open, spilling Terry out too fast. He dropped to one knee, pushed up off the ground and lunged toward Edwin.

  Before he made it to Edwin, two men, one on either side of Terry, ceased his forward motion by wrapping arms up and around his shoulders. They lifted him up, Terry’s legs pin wheeling several times before they set him down. He grunted and struggled to get by them, reminding Edwin of the game called British Bull Dog that he’d played as a youngster back in grade school.

  The man without the overcoat moved closer to Edwin.

  “We’re not that dissimilar.”

  “How so?” Edwin asked.

  “You take specimens. Isn’t that what she is?” The man pointed at Edwin’s closed trunk lid. “A specimen? For your lab?”

  Edwin shot a glance at Terry who was strangely quiet. One of the men had jammed what looked like a tennis ball in Terry’s mouth. A quick look at the man beside him, then the trunk, and Edwin nodded.

  “Yes. A specimen.”

  The man stuck his hand out.

  How odd? Why so formal? Edwin took the proffered hand and shook it.

  “Call me Adam,” the man said. “Always address me as Adam.” Suddenly, his other hand came out of his pocket holding a cell phone. “Use this. Call me only on this. One number is programmed. When you have what we want arranged, call me. You’ll have twenty-four hours to achieve our goal. Do we have a deal?”

  Edwin had zero idea what he was agreeing to. Adam had told him nothing.

  Edwin released Adam’s hand and took the cell phone.

  “I’ll call,” Edwin said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “But you’re going to have to tell me what the hell we’re doing here. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Adam stepped away to stand directly between Edwin and Terry. The headlights of Terry’s car cast a strange light on Adam’s face. He appeared more sinister than a moment before.

  “We aren’t very different than you, Mr. Gavin. You collect specimens and do experiments. Your experiments are more depraved than ours, but we won’t split hairs. We don’t judge.” He turned his full attention to Edwin. “I collect things and use them in experiments. If certain souls knew what I do, those people would call me Lucifer, or God, depending on who I’m talking to. Having said that, I am willing to offer you a trade.”

  “What trade?” Edwin asked.

  Terry grunted from somewhere deep in his throat. A large truck drove by down on the highway, breaking some of the surrounding silence the night offered. “What could you possibly have that I would want?”

  “Your freedom.”

  Edwin thought about that a moment. He looked up at Chris Manks, who was staring back.

  “Option number one. We release Terry Radcliffe here and help him break your legs. Chris Manks then calls his brother and explains that Megan Radcliffe was kidnapped and that the perpetrator was captured by Megan’s husband, Terry here.”

  Terry grunted deep, struggled with redoubled strength. Edwin felt sick. Was there a way out, an escape route? Could he make the bushes by the car and hide out in the woods overnight? But to what end? Where would he go? Home was out of the question. Using bank cards would lead the authorities to wherever he was.

  Edwin wasn’t the kind of man that could live a life on the run. He knew nothing about that. All he’d ever wanted was to follow in his father’s footsteps and be a better man about it. To have families. To perform Gatherings. He didn’t want this trouble. There was no way he could’ve foreseen Adam and his crew of seven to eight men in professional attire. This was like some science-fiction novel or a movie, like Neo and Morpheus in The Matrix, about to make a deal with the Agents, well dressed, besuited men with deadpan voices and lackluster expressions.

  “Option number two. You take Megan with you—” Adam stopped talking as Terry growled and lunged hard to the right, causing one of the men to momentarily lose balance. The man on the left yanked something from his jacket pocket and aimed it at Terry just as he broke free.

  A clicking, like an electrical unit shorting out, filled the quiet evening and Terry danced where he stood. The Taser did its job with unfailing accuracy and without mercy, bringing Terry first to his knees, then the ground, where he vibrated a moment longer. The electrical snapping stopped and Terry stilled.

  Adam faced Edwin again. “As I was saying. Megan is yours. We will deal with Terry. No one saw a thing and we never have to see each other again. You’re free to go. But I need Jake Wood and you are the one person who can bring him to me.”

  “The coma man?” Edwin asked, confused.

  What would Adam want with Jake Wood?

  “The one. You work on the BEK killer case. Your contact with that case is the lead detective, Kirk Aiken, Jake’s old partner. Arrange within twenty-four hours to have Kirk and Jake come to your office. Call me once that meeting is set. My men will apprehend Jake Wood and your obligation to me is over.” Adam moved back toward Edwin as Terry tried to get up. “What will it be? Option one, where you’re arrested and hospitalized? Or option two where you keep Megan?”

  Edwin didn’t have to think about it. This was a no-brainer.

  “What about trust?” Edwin asked. “I deliver Jake, then what? How do I know this won’t come back to bite me?”

  For a brief moment, it almost looked like Adam cracked a smile, but then it was gone.

  “Tell me if we have a deal or not.”

  Edwin frowned. This guy seemed odd. How would he secure anything?

  “Number two,” Edwin said. “I take Megan. I will arrange a meeting. You get Jake Wood. Now, secure it for me.”

  Adam pivoted to face Terry. A wounded man, exhausted with the struggle, urged on by loyalty, love, fighting against odds he couldn’t win, surrounded by men stronger than him and armed with Tasers. Terry raised his head. Adam pulled something out of the inside of his pocket. The SUV’s headlights shone on the gun’s shiny surface, looking to Edwin like the weapon had just been polished.

  They were going to deal with his Terry problem for him. Right there and then. He could take Megan and move on. It was a deal after all. A pact. An arrangement. And Adam was prepared to seal the deal on the spot.

  The gun roared in Adam’s hand, recoiling twice. Terry’s head jerked back as two neat holes formed in his forehead. Slowly, like he was in a yoga pose on his knees, he leaned back, farther, farther, until he was at an impossible angle, then fell to the cement. A small amount of blood was visible in the car’s headlights as he died.

  Edwin felt nothing. If he had done it like he’d done it countless times, he would’ve been the one taking Terry’s life. The man’s back would have been ripped open, his lungs fluttering outside the ribcage. Terry should thank whatever God he believed in when they met up shortly.

  Two bullets were better than a bird in the cage.

  Adam handed the gun to one of his men. Several of them moved out of the light coming from Terry’s car and hopped back inside the SUV. Their impromptu meeting was coming to a close.

  “Edwin, I’ve secured our end of the deal. Terry Radcliffe has been dispatched. He will be found dead by his car right where
it stands. His wife will have disappeared. No one will be the wiser. I will get Jake Wood and Kirk Aiken tomorrow from your lab as agreed. Use that phone. Call me. Give me the time. Is there anything left unsaid? Do you understand your role?”

  Edwin nodded.

  “I need to hear your compliance.”

  “Agreed. I will call. Tomorrow. And you can have Jake. Kirk too.”

  Adam backed away. Before entering the idling SUV, he stopped and looked back.

  “Don’t break our arrangement. If you know the story of Adam and Eve, I’m the serpent in the grass. I will rise and strike without warning and the tree of knowledge you eat from will cause great pain and enormous suffering for eternity if you betray my confidence.”

  Adam disappeared inside the vehicle and slammed the door.

  Simultaneously, both SUVs backed away and disappeared on the highway within a minute.

  Edwin glanced down at Terry’s body. It was Jake Wood he was thinking about. How creepy that man was. How he had watched him. And how these men were going to deal with him.

  He pitied Jake. Whatever Jake had done to piss these guys off would cost him dearly.

  Edwin felt the weight of the phone in his hand. He looked at it. One meeting, one call. That was all it took to finish this chapter in his life. Then he would never deviate from the plan again. He would return in a year or so as the Blood Eagle Killer and offer a Gathering to another deserving family. One that didn’t throw parties and one that was less visible. They were all over the country, just waiting for his arrival.

  Eager with anticipation, he needed to drive home and secure Megan in his safe room. There was still so much to do.

  In the morning he would call Detective Aiken and set up a meeting.

  It would all work out. The people who were supposed to die would die. The woman in his trunk would serve her purpose. Life just went back to normal in one quick moment.

  He was on the right path in life. If there was a God, this intervention would have been the end for Edwin. But as before, he didn’t believe in such silliness. He couldn’t imagine following a man who was born from a virgin. A man whose blood and body are eaten as wine, or juice, with crackers in large churches where donations pay to employ child-molesting priests. Accept him in your heart as Lord because a woman, borne from a man’s rib bone, was conned into eating fruit from a forbidden tree, deceived by a talking snake who was possessed by an egotistical angel. And this was the largest religion driving humanity.

  And they thought Edwin was crazy.

  Edwin Gavin was a rapist-murderer and humans were his prey and nothing would ever stop him because he was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be as good as he was.

  He was the living proof that there was no God.

  And soon Megan Radcliffe would know why God hadn’t saved her or Terry.

  Elated beyond his wildest dreams, he dropped behind the wheel of his car, performed a U-turn, and headed for the highway. It was time for a beating. It was time to hurt Megan for the trouble she had caused.

  And when he woke her from her stupor in a week, he would thank her.

  Edwin smiled as he drove, a Duchenne smile, maintaining the speed limit all the way to Toronto with his prize in the trunk.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Jake woke to the sound of Kirk blabbering on his cell phone in the living room. He got up and sat on the edge of the bed to rub his face.

  Kirk’s voice grew more agitated. Jake stared at the closed bedroom door for a moment, then got up and got dressed. Whatever was bothering his old partner could be worked out with coffee.

  Once in the kitchen, Jake put on a pot of hot water and waited patiently until Kirk hung up. During the call, he had overheard snippets. Something about a crime scene and how it had nothing to do with Kirk but they wanted him to attend anyway.

  Kirk entered the kitchen and nodded at the water about to boil.

  “Good,” he said. “Need that.” He plopped down at the kitchen table.

  Jake pulled two large mugs out of the cupboard.

  “What was that all about?”

  “Kidnapping a few kilometers from here.”

  Jake turned to him. “Kidnapping? Since when do they call Homicide for a kidnapping?”

  Kirk drummed his fingers on the table. “Murder too. Husband shot twice in the forehead. Car left on the side of the road.” He continued drumming his fingers. “Wife missing.”

  Jake poured the hot water into the French press, let it steep then poured the coffee into two mugs. He set a mug in front of Kirk, leaving it black as they both liked it.

  “What do they want with you?” Jake asked.

  Kirk stopped drumming his fingers and picked up his cup.

  “Formal request to attend the scene.”

  “Since you’re out of Toronto Division, how did they know you were even local?”

  “Probably because we bumped into that Officer Manks yesterday by the liquor store.”

  “Right. That would be it.”

  They drank in silence until Kirk fixed his eyes on Jake and studied his face.

  “Come with me,” Kirk said. “Let’s go together. Like old times. What do you say?”

  Jake shook his head. “Not me. Have you seen the case files I have to read out there in the living room?”

  Kirk slapped the table and stood. “Forget about that.” He moved closer to Jake. “Come with me. Walk through the couple’s house. Examine everything with me. Make mental notes like you used to. Bounce ideas off me. Then come out to the murder scene. Walk me through a scenario just like the old days.” He raised a finger as if dramatically making a point. “If it’s the last case we walk together, at least make it more memorable than the Maytag death.”

  Jake chuckled, but he cut it short. Kirk had a point. He’d missed being in the field. To walk a crime scene, to feel the area out. He could smell it, hone his new skills. Who knew what would come of it?

  He set his coffee cup on the counter beside the sink.

  “I’ll shower and dress. I’ll go. But you’re buying lunch. And I want a fucking prime rib.”

  “Shit man, you can have the cow. Just come with me and deduce as only Jake Wood can.”

  Jake walked by him, headed for the bathroom.

  “My old pal Jake, attacked by a snake, comes out of recluse, to attempt to deduce, the murder and the crime, that happened in the time, that it took to blink, but can he think, of what would make, someone so vile, to take ...”

  Jake yanked the knob on the shower and the water’s stream drowned out Kirk’s prattling. The rhyming shit wasn’t something Jake had missed.

  When they got in the car fifteen minutes later, Jake punched Kirk in the arm.

  Just to let him know that with every rhyme going forward, a shot in the arm would accompany it.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  When Edwin arrived home, the car securely backed into his garage and the door down, he opened the trunk.

  Megan was still unconscious but breathing steadily. Blood covered most of her face and where it didn’t, she was ash-pale. The skin on her cheeks had split and her entire lower lip was double its original size. Blood had pooled under her head, his trunk a crime-scene tech’s dream. A thick scab was already forming over her cheek. She was a mess with blood matted in her hair as well. It would take weeks for her pretty face to become something less grotesque.

  He held the trunk open momentarily, staring down at his new wife. She was his, fair and square. Only Terry had seen him, but Terry was dead. There had been a moment when he’d thought his entire world was crashing in around him, but then it was over.

  He would rest. Wake at noon. Then he’d come up with a believable reason to need to see Jake and Kirk, and call Detective Aiken to arrange it.

  He grabbed Megan’s arms and lifted her out of the trunk. Being too heavy to carry in his exhausted state, he pulled her far enough over the lip of the trunk and let her go. Megan dropped like she was dead onto the garage floor.
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br />   A grunt escaped her lips at impact. She rolled onto her back, her eyes trying to open.

  Edwin slammed the trunk closed, wrapped a hand around Megan’s wrists and dragged her hundred and twenty pounds toward the door that led inside.

  She moaned and kicked in a dazed state. Once inside, he only had to go five feet until he reached the basement door. She was almost fully cognizant by then, so he opened the door and shoved her down the stairs.

  He prayed she wouldn’t break her neck in the tumble. He wouldn’t want her to die so soon. Not after all that he had gone through to get her.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he realized he had gotten his wish. She wasn’t paralyzed, but her right hand was scrunched up under her.

  He rolled her over and saw the damage. In the fall, her baby finger had twisted back like a broken pretzel, snapped at the second knuckle. On that same hand, her wrist hung at an odd angle. She wouldn’t be using that hand for a few months.

  Before the rush of pain, before the realization of what was happening settled over her, Edwin snatched up her feet, wrapped his meaty hands on her ankles and dragged her toward the bookcase. Once the door to the safe room was open, he pulled her inside.

  She moaned softly, then moaned steadily louder. But what did he care? The safe room was entirely soundproof. She wouldn’t hear him and he wouldn’t hear her. No one would ever hear Megan again except Edwin when he came for his visits to either beat her or fuck her.

  Two backward steps and he was clear of the safe room door. Tonight—or rather this morning—she would be spared a beating. She would also be spared a rough session of violent sex. He was simply too tired. He needed sleep and he needed to fulfill his end of the deal made on the side road, south of Huntsville. Once Jake Wood was dealt with, Megan was officially his, free and clear. Then he would begin his treatment, his special husbandly duties.

  “We’re going to have a splendid time together, my love.”

  Megan screamed, her broken hand held above her head as she lay sprawled out on the safe room floor.