The Omega Archives

by Erik Melendez

  I breached the door and found the office empty. I saw a computer on the desk with a file called “Omega_Project,” and I ran toward the computer. All of a sudden, I was knocked into the wall next to me. It was Jackson. He wore a trench coat. He was bald and extremely tall.

  “So, we meet again,” Jackson said.

  “I see you have gotten some work done on you,” I said from the ground.

  “Indeed. I must admit that the serum is amazing. I have never felt better in my life,” he said.

  “Trust me, it gets old after a while,” I replied as I got up.

  “Perhaps. Please take a seat,” he said.

  “You still wish to know what exactly happened to the Omega Project?”

  “Yes. All I want is to know what exactly happened when the facility was attacked.”

  “And just what makes you think that I will tell you?”

  “I will just ask nicely. Then I will kill you for leading and organizing the attack.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I was trained in deduction. I just put the pieces of the puzzle together. I started to put the pieces together when I met you. You’re the head of the Union’s bio-weapons division, so it only made sense that you knew so much about Type-1 serum and how you created Type-2 serum by deriving it from the Type-1 serum and modifying its chemical structure to mutate cells. The only way you could have gotten hold of the serum was to attack the facility. You sell it to other people via the black market, so that must mean that only you have access to the serum.”

  “You’re smart. And, yes, I orchestrated the raid on the facility that created you. You know what truly boggles my mind? It’s that we ask so little of you. We just want you to join us, and yet you refuse our offer constantly in some great crusade.”

  “I would rather spend the rest of my life trying to wipe you guys out than give myself to you.”

  “It’s a shame that you turn us down. I could have given you so much.”

  “So much what? Money? Power?”

  “Even more. The Union would have treated you like royalty. You’re the perfect weapon, and yet you waste your potential on fighting silly proxy wars and taking orders from old men.”

  “No. I fight to save the world from people like you. People who can’t tell the difference between saving the world and enslaving it.”

  “Again, that’s where you misunderstand us. The human race cannot be trusted with its freedom. The only way humanity can survive is that it must be ruled.”

  “So, what made you want to join this little crusade toward the new world order?” I asked.

  “Before I answer your question, I have a confession to make. I was one of the scientists on the Omega Project,” he said.

  I felt like someone punched me in the gut. I didn’t believe it.

  “What?” I shouted.

  “The doctor was a fool. He didn’t realize the potential of what he created,” he said.

  “So, all those innocent people had to die!” I said.

  “They were unfortunate losses. If anyone survived, it could mean trouble for us.”

  “It all makes sense now. You worked with the doctor who created the Omega Project, and you betrayed him for money. You must have wanted to do something different with the serum he created, hence the Type-2 serum, and he wouldn’t allow it. Probably because it raised a few odd questions. The Union contacts you, gives you the mission, and promises you riches,” I said.

  “Not just money, but fame. After the mission on the project base was successful, the Union appointed me to be the head of their bio-weapons division. A true honor,” he said.

  As we were talking, I slowly reached for my karambit, carefully observing where his eyes were pointed.

  “You have no honor. The only person you respect is yourself, and you betrayed your own partner just for a little money and fame. There’s no honor in that.”

  “What would you know about honor? You were raised to be a cold-blooded killer,” he said.

  “In my rehabilitation, I learned a few things about honor.”

  I quickly pulled out my karambit. I slashed at him, and he grabbed the knife by the blade. He squeezed the blade like it was tin foil. He then grabbed me by my throat and threw me out the window behind the desk. When I hit the ground, all the wind was knocked out of me. He jumped out after me.

  I got up and came at him with a punch. When I hit him, it felt like I punched a steel wall and wound up breaking my hand. He grabbed me and threw me into a tree. My insides felt like they were juggled around. I took a gun from a dead guard and shot at Jackson. The bullets bounced off of him like I was throwing rubber balls at him.

  “You can’t kill me, Alex!” he shouted.

  I retreated into the nearby forest to evade him and come up with a plan. I hid behind a small pile of dirt. My healing factor tried to repair my hand, so I waited for a few moments for it to heal. I had to think my way out of this. If smaller arms couldn’t do anything to him, then I would have to find something bigger to kill him. He walked around the forest trying to find me while I hid.

  “You’re wasting your time and strength, Alex. You should just give up now and join us. It would save so much time. Think of all we could achieve together,” he said.

  While he walked around the forest, I snuck back toward the mansion. I searched the grounds for anything I could find to kill him. By the time I got back to the mansion, my hand was all healed up. As I searched, I found a weapons cache in the basement. I found a rocket launcher, a grenade launcher, and some flashbangs down there. I loaded them up and went outside.

  I was on high alert for Jackson. I checked every corner and listened even for the slightest sounds of him. As I went outside, I looked around, but I didn’t see anything. Then, in the distance, I heard his footsteps. I took cover behind some crates and got ready to attack.

  When he approached, I got up and shot my grenade launcher at him. It pushed him back a little, so I kept firing. When I ran out of ammo for the grenade launcher, he got back up.

  “Is that really the best you could do?” he asked.

  He ran at me as fast as he could. I ran toward him, and we slammed into each other. He was so strong that it felt like a truck drove into me at top speed. My feet dug into the ground, leaving long trails of dirt behind. He slammed me into a wall where he then punched me in the head several times. It felt like I got hit by a car several times.

  Blood and some teeth were flying out of my mouth. He then picked me up over his head with both of his arms and threw me across the lawn.

  I could barely move for a bit, let alone get up. As I laid there, I saw the rocket launcher laying a few feet in front of me. It must have dropped when he threw me. He charged at me again. I crawled to the rocket launcher, picked it up, got up, and fired it at him. But he grabbed the rocket and smashed it into his head.

  “You’re going to have to do better than that!” he said.

  I took out a flashbang, threw it to stun Jackson, and retreated back into the mansion. I searched the mansion for anything I could use, and then I came across a small room that had been turned into a chemical lab. I went through the decontamination airlock and went inside.

  It seemed like an ordinary lab with stainless steel countertops, and it was completely sterilized from top to bottom. I looked around for any kind of chemical that could be fatal to Jackson, but I couldn’t find much. I then came across a cylindrical container with a handle on the top. I turned the handle and pulled up on it. Out came two vials. One had a purple substance in it that was marked “GH14,” and another vial held a grayish liquid.

  I looked around the lab for any indication on what it was, and I came across a note book. According to the notes, GH14 was a genetically engineered airborne nerve agent that was derived from the Type-2 serum. When released, anyone exposed to it will start to feel symptoms, such as headache, nausea, trouble breathing, blurred vision, and rapid heart rate. First, it shuts down the lungs, and then it proceeds to overl
oad the internal organs. This is followed by death. Even a small drop could kill an entire room filled with people. Even I could not survive it, and nor could Jackson.

  However, the notes did say that there was an antidote, which was the vial of gray liquid that was next to the nerve agent. Taking it would keep you immune. I took the vial of antidote, looked for a needle that was sharp enough to penetrate my skin, and injected myself with it after I found one. Once that was done, I took the vial of the nerve agent, turned out the lights, hid somewhere, and waited for Jackson to show up.

  He eventually found out where I was and entered the lab, where he continued to taunt me.

  “Your attempts to kill me are futile. You’re wasting your time. Let me ask you something. Do you really believe that you could have a normal life? Did you really think that you could just go to school like a normal teenager? You’re not even a human being; you’re a biological weapon. Your only goal in life is to kill and destroy,” he said.

  As he walked around, I waited until his back was toward me. When he got into position, I turned on the lights, and threw the vial at Jackson. The vial shattered into small pieces, and the nerve agent splashed all over his face.

  “Did you really think it would be that…,” he asked.

  He started to act weird. He looked like he was trying to breathe but couldn’t. He turned and saw the open container where I got the nerve agent. His mouth opened, and he placed his hands on his neck gasping for breath. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull; he started shaking. Then blood poured out of his mouth and nose as he shook violently. He eventually dropped onto the ground and died.

  I went into the decontamination lock in between the lab and the rest of the area, went through the decontamination cycle, and left. I was then greeted by several National Guard soldiers.

  “Are you okay, sir?” the lead soldier asked.

  “Fine. Jackson is in there. Don’t go in though; the whole lab is contaminated with some kind of nerve agent,” I replied.

  “Understood. We will get a HAZMAT team to clear it out,” he said.

  I went back to Jackson’s office to search his computer. In my search, I found information on the day of the attack on the facility. It said that he orchestrated the attack with heavily equipped soldiers. Their objective was to take any information on the Type-1 serum, kill all witnesses, capture as many augmented children as possible, and kill, if necessary. The computer showed plans: blueprints for the facility, guard shifts, and the number of personnel and weapons on the base.

  As I looked at the computer, Max called me on my radio.

  “Did you get him?” Max asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Nice. Did you find all the Omega Project stuff?”

  “Yes, I have the computer.”

  As I left the base, I saw the HAZMAT team walking into the mansion with full HAZMAT gear on to clear out the nerve agent in the lab. The other National Guard soldiers patrolled the area while waiting for cleanup teams to come clear out the area. I got on a truck that took me to the nearest airport to take me back home.

  I returned to the STR base for debriefing.

  “After three years, we finally got him. Nice work,” John Mathis said.

  “Thanks. The computer I brought in had info on the Omega Project attack. How long will it take for the technicians to examine the files?” I asked.

  “Give us a couple of days, and we will dissect the files. In the meantime, go home and get some rest. You have done enough for now,” he said.

  I left and went home. I met up with Max at my house. I told him about the mission, and how I killed Jackson.

  “So, you literally had to throw a nerve agent into his face to kill him?” he asked.

  “That’s exactly what I had to do,” I replied.

  “Jeez. His skin was that strong?” he said.

  “Yeah. Pretty much,” I said.

  “So, is this it then?” he asked.

  “I think so. I finally might be able to find out what happened that day,” I replied.

  “What do you think they will find?”

  “I don’t know. I hope they will find something in those files.”

  “Will your parents let you stay in the STR?”

  “Yes. At least I’m making money.”

  “Yeah. What’s funny is that you’re not even legally old enough to have a job yet.”

  “I know, right?”

  We talked for a little while longer and played some video games. Mostly tactical shooters. My PTSD crept up a little, but it wasn’t bad. I could easily control it by focusing on the game and keeping my mind of the missions I did. No to mention it was just a game, and not real.

  The next day, I went to see my therapist to tell her the good news.

  “Good to see you!” I said in a cheerful voice.

  “Well, it’s good to see you in such a good mood.”

  “I feel great. I got Mikhail and Jackson. The tech department at the STR is about to find out some more info on what happened to the Omega Project.”

  “Well, that seems exciting.”

  “It is, for me. I may finally have the closure I have been desperately looking for.”

  “And what closure is that?”

  “Finding out what really happened to the Omega Project.”

  “I see. How have you been feeling lately?”

  “I’m feeling better. I took your advice, I read a book my school counselor gave me, and it worked. I now have better control of the flashbacks. You’re breathing techniques that you showed me helped out a lot. However some of the fighting still gets to me sometimes, but now I can manage it,” I said.

  “That’s great. So, what’s your plan now?”

  “I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing. And when I graduate, we will see.”

  “That’s good to know. Do you plan to still stay with the STR?”

  “Yes. After I find out what exactly happened to the Omega Project, I will find and destroy the Union.”

  We continued to talk for a little while longer until my appointment concluded.

  Chapter Thirty

  I spent the next morning sitting on my bed, staring at my phone while waiting for a call from the STR. Eventually, sometime in the afternoon my phone rang. It was John.

  “Mathis here. Good news! After going through Jackson’s hard drive, we found information the Omega Project. If you want to see what we found, come on in and we can talk about it,” John said.

  The STR sent a truck to come and pick me up, and I went to the STR headquarters to talk about what they found.

  “After digging through the files, we found the location of the Omega Project facility. It turns out it was hidden under this mansion,” John said as he showed me a picture of the mansion on the big screen in front of the room. It was old and rundown with shrubbery growing around it. “We will send you the coordinates, and there you might be able to find more answers on what exactly happened.”

  “I never could remember where the facility was. Mostly because I spent no time outside of the compound,” I replied.

  “Well, why don’t you head over there and get some closure on what happened?” John replied.

  Before I walked out, I turned around to ask Mathis about PTSD.

  “Hey, before I go, I was wondering: Did you ever suffer from PTSD?” I asked.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. A lot of us during Nam did,” Mathis said.

  “How did you get over it?”

  He sat down on a chair nearby.

  “Well, when I spoke to a therapist about it. He told me that one of the things I needed to do was to surround myself with positive people and to do things that wouldn’t stress me out. One thing my therapist had me do was write in a journal about what I was going through. Eventually, I got over it. It’s not the easiest thing to get over, but it is possible. Are you having problems with PTSD?” he said.

  “Yes, but I’m working on it,” I said.

  I turn
ed around and walked out.

  Over the weekend, I was driven to the mansion site, which was located somewhere in northern Oregon. I must have spent weeks on the run before arriving in California. I arrived at the mansion. It was gated off with the standard, “Private Property, No Trespassing,” sign on the front of the gate. The lawn was covered in overgrown grass. The outside of the mansion was withered down, and some of the windows broken. I climbed over the gate and went into the site.

  Inside, the mansion was old and dark, and I could hear nothing but silence. The walls were rotting, and it smelled moldy. There wasn’t any furniture anywhere. I began to explore the front area. I didn’t see much except a gate behind the stairs, which was locked. I tried to kick it down, but the stainless steel was too strong even after years of sitting unused.

  I pulled out the flashlight I brought and explored the mansion to find a way further inside. I started by going upstairs to explore the rooms up there. The hallways had old cupboards with old china inside, and the hallway was completely dark. I checked the rooms, which mostly had nothing, but I came across one room that was structured like a puzzle of some kind.

  There were four statues of what looked like gargoyles and one structure in the middle that looked like a lion. The lion statue had a strange riddle on it:

  “The four guardians must see in order to release.”

  I had no idea what that meant, so I messed with the statues for a bit, until I pointed one of the statues at the center piece and it locked into place. From there, I pointed the other three statues at the center. All of a sudden a key rose out of the top of the lion statue in the middle. I took it and went downstairs. I tested it on the gate behind the stairs, and it didn’t work. It must have been a key for a different lock.

  I searched the whole mansion to find where the key might fit into, until I came across a door that the key fit inside. The door was made out of metal with the number “B1” etched on it.