The B Gene

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The B Gene Page 3

by Carlos Hardy


  “And furthermore, you are an ignoramus…” The floor begins to vibrate gently, gradually growing harsher. The three of them are tossed from side to side before grabbing hold of one another to stabilize.

  Chapter Five:

  They Return

  Backed up against the wall, they witness a white pillar of light appear in the center of the room. As their legs begin to shift beneath them, Bree grabs onto Caleb and holds on tight. “What’s going on?” She asks.

  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Calm the hell down.” Jaylen demands, trying to grasp the situation.

  Vibrations intensify, rattling the floor and shifting the three of them around. As fear rises up, they fall to the floor. They quickly attempt to hold onto one another, desperately vying for something beyond the marble tile to grab onto. Ripples travel through the floor, rushing through their bodies as they slide in every direction.

  “Make it stop, make it stop!” Bree shouts.

  As if her request had been answered, the vibrations settle, returning to that low humming sound.

  “What is that?” Caleb asks, returning to his feet and helping Bree stabilize.

  “What about me?” Jaylen complains. “I gets no help?” He quickly stands, wiping away dust from his brand name jeans. “These cost a fortune.”

  The humming dies completely, leaving silence in its wake. They stand in the dimly lit room, listening for any sound at all. The silence is daunting.

  “We have to find a way out of here,” Caleb proclaims as Bree nods in agreement.

  “Is your phone working?” She asks, gulping down a breath of fear.

  Caleb attempts a phone call, but is immediately met with the humming sound through the speaker. He quickly hands up, mouthing “It’s dead.”

  Jaylen withdraws his own phone from his pocket, turning on the flashlight and pointing it around the room in every direction. “This is some eerie shit,” he says rather quietly. “Okay, so when ya’ll left me, I saw this kid. He like, disappeared into a tree or something.”

  “Liar,” Bree spits rather abruptly.

  “Oh, you see floating shit but I can’t see some kid disappearing? Get the fuck out of here. I’m finding a way out.” Jaylen moves towards one corner of the room before releasing a squeal. “What the hell!”

  Heavy breathing comes from the corner as Jaylen nervously backs away, lifting his fist into the air. In this moment, Jaylen remembers every street fight he was in back in Baltimore.

  “Who’s there?” He demands in a calm voice, showcasing his steel nerves. “I said who’s there?” He asks again as Bree and Caleb cautiously back away.

  Pointing his phone into the corner, the elderly professor from the lobby slowly emerges from the darkness.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he says rather freely.

  “Bro, you were about to catch some hands.” Jaylen exclaims. Caleb then moves his phone’s flashlight in the professor’s direction.

  “What are you doing in here?” He asks as Professor Green lifts a chair from the corner.

  “I could ask you the same question,” he retorts.

  Angrily pointing the phone towards the professor, Jaylen’s patience is running thin. “What’s the deal, Bob?”

  Professor Green swiftly snatches Jaylen’s phone right from his grip.

  “Did you really just do that?” Jaylen barks.

  “Go easy Jaylen,” Bree offers, her hand landing on his shoulder. “Hey, he helped guide us to this place.”

  Jaylen glances towards Bree, then back at the professor. “You know this guy?”

  “Our apologies professor,” Caleb extends his hand towards Green, easing the tension in the air. “Do you have any idea what’s going on out there?”

  Sensing Green’s trepidation, Caleb, Jaylen and Bree press him for answers. The hum from the storm is present, and Green takes a step towards the students, his expression bare and emotionless. It was as if someone turned off his personality in an instant.

  “I’ve studied this paradigm for years, but…” He starts, turning away mid speech. “Dammit!” He shouts.

  “What is it professor?” Bree asks as Jaylen takes wary steps towards him.

  “Look man, you got to tell us something.”

  “Moving in towards a threat isn’t the way to go,” Caleb interjects, capturing Jaylen’s attention. He walks over towards the professor, places his hands on his shoulders, and lowers his tone, dually attempting to appeal to him while patronizing him like a toddler that’s keeping secrets. “What do you know about what’s happening?”

  Professor Green snaps away, forcing Caleb’s hands from his shoulders as he turns his back on them. Finally, he says something.

  “I’ve studied this formation for years… during my time in the military. Fifty years ago, a similar storm arrived.”

  “Arrived?” Jaylen says with temper to his voice. “Storms don’t just arrive.”

  “Professor Green eyed Jaylen before continuing. “It arrived, and within hours was gone.”

  “I don’t follow,” Caleb said, “isn’t that what storms do?”

  “Not this storm.”

  Green’s voice lowers, fading out into nothing. He slowly looks up towards the skylight as he steps into the other room. Traces of green and white light continually outline the sky above.

  “What do you see?” Bree asks, looking towards Caleb for confirmation. He nods.

  “Okay,” she starts again after Green’s silence. “Once we escaped the storm, we saw students. A few of them floated into the dark clouds.” She pauses briefly, uncertain of the absurdity in her own words. “Something carried them into the clouds. This something seemed ordained or mighty.”

  “I think what the professor is saying, is that something pulled them up from Earth… it wasn’t just the storm.”

  Jaylen dims his phone light. “What is he talking about?”

  Professor Green stares coldly into the sky. “They are here for a specific purpose.”

  “Man, this guy’s a kook,” Jaylen accuses.

  “I want to hear what he has to say,” Bree states boldly. “Continue professor.”

  “They’re here to take what they want. They won’t concede to anything less than that.”

  “Who are they?” Caleb says through gritted teeth, tired of the charade and drawn-out replies. “Can they hurt us? Can we fight back?”

  “Professor Green,” Bree shakes his arm. He remains silent. “Professor Green,” she tries again.

  “Well, just replace they with America, and you’ve got every black scenario in the country.” Jaylen says, rather annoyed.

  “What do you even mean by that?” Bree asks innocently.

  “You’re the journalist. You see our democratic system. It’s rigged.”

  “Come on guys,” Caleb breaks up the fight before it can truly begin. “This isn’t the conversation we should be having right now.

  “Sure it is,” Professor Green says softly, eyes still set on the sky.

  “See?” Jaylen begins to gloat. “Even the kook is on board with my analysis. America don’t care about us.”

  “Professor, enough with the coy responses. Please tell us what this is all about.” Bree sounds more hopeful than adamant.

  “I take serving at Lanier Brown as a badge of honor,” Green begins as Jaylen rolls his eyes.

  “Big deal,” he says, “so what? You decide to come to a black college to teach black students. You wanted street cred?”

  “I think you’re missing the point.”

  “No, I don’t think I am. All my life, we’ve had white teachers. It’s like we can’t escape ya’ll.”

  “Enough Jaylen,” Caleb says. “You’re being rude, bro.”

  “Sometimes you gotta be rude, bro. It’s the law of the land, right?”

  “It’s okay. He feels how he feels, which is why they are here.” Professor Green says.

  “I’m not following
this,” Bree sighs, leaning against a nearby chair. “Who are they, and how do you know them?”

  Stabilizing himself in the center of the room, Professor Green releases a deep breath before beginning. “For over thirty years, I worked on top secret technology for the United States government. The they in question are directly related to you.”

  Seconds later, the skylight bursts open as a strong tunnel of wind barrels down to the floor. Caleb, Jaylen and Bree hold onto one another as they’re pulled towards the skylight. Bree is pulled away, her scream echoing through the room as Caleb reaches out, grabbing onto her legs. He finds himself lifting off the floor, noting the increasing wind tearing through everything in its path. Tables are tossed to the side, chairs are flung through the room as the vortex circles the room. Jaylen grasps onto Caleb in an effort to keep him grounded.

  This three-person chain begins to lift towards the skylight. Jaylen desperately holds onto Caleb’s foot in one hand, while the other grips a nearby column.

  “We’re going to die!” Bree shouts over the roar of the wind.

  The humming sound returns as wind fills the room, making it difficult to take in a breath. As the dark gray clouds envelop the top of the room, Bree’s head is mere feet away from its grasp. They desperately try to hold on, but the wind’s ferocity feels magnetic, pulling them upward without the willpower to hold on any longer. Their deafening screams are suffocated by the sheer wind force.

  Jaylen’s legs, wrapped around the pillar, are the only thing keeping them from being swept away. Caleb’s grip slowly eases on Bree’s leg. He attempts to readjust for a better grip.

  “Please don’t let go!” She screams.

  Professor Green leans against a wall nearby. The wind isn’t even rustling his hair. He stands up and effortlessly limps over towards Jaylen as Caleb takes notice. His hands find Jaylen’s waist as he pulls him from the pillar.

  “Are you crazy? You’ll get us killed!” Jaylen shouts.

  “We have to get out of here!” Green returns, effectively removing Jaylen from the pillar and somehow pulling the three of them towards a nearby door. As if personally selecting him, the wind pulls Caleb higher as Jaylen desperately holds onto his foot. He pulls on Caleb’s shirt, bringing him closer.

  “Yo, what’s going on in here?” Tony says as he opens the nearby double doors. Noticing the mayhem, with all his strength, Tony flings Professor Green out of the room by the collar.

  Tony keeps a solid grip on Jaylen’s belt buckle and yanks. The trio gets pulled downward. The mighty tug by Tony forces Jaylen’s grip to tighten onto Caleb’s shirt. Tony plants his feet in his usual squatting pose for weight training. He musters enough energy to pull Jaylen forcefully. Jaylen’s grip tears into Caleb’s shirt, ripping it. Tony effectively pulls all three into the hallway and shuts the door. They collapse on top of one another, spilling over onto the tile floors of the hallway.

  Tony kneels down, barely out of breath. “You guys okay?”

  “Yes, we’re fine. Rattled, but fine.” Bree says, catching her breath. She fixes her hair before pulling herself up and standing. “Where’s my camera?”

  Jaylen rolls his eyes at her selfishness. “Hello, you’re welcome!”

  Bree tenses, reluctantly releasing a soft thank-you before continuing to look for her camera.

  “Whatever,” Jaylen says dismissively.

  Caleb rises, finding Bree’s camera and handing it to her.

  “Thank God,” she says, “this camera is my life.”

  Caleb leans against the nearby wall, staring at the closed doors and letting his mind drift away. Professor Green stands up, noticing Caleb’s dilating brown eyes.

  “How did you do that?” Caleb asks.

  “I haven’t the slightly clue.” The Professor replies, noticing Jaylen’s confusion.

  “What did he do?” Jaylen asks, his tone sharpening.

  “The storm didn’t affect him… it’s like he was bolted to the floor.” Caleb is interrupted by a student running over from the lobby.

  “Guys, Mark got the TV working,” she says.

  Professor Green throws his arms over Tony’s shoulders for support, and silently limps away towards the lobby. Caleb is left dazed, trying to make sense of what’s happened. His shirt is all but gone, revealing his bronze skin.

  “Oh my God!” Bree exclaims loudly. She and Jaylen remain completely still, noticing Caleb’s exposed back. The pigment on his back is completely gone, revealing completely pale white flesh. In the paleness, the spotty skin creates an obscure design. Caleb turns his back away.

  “What?” He asks, and for the briefest moment, Jaylen and Bree put their differences aside an unanimously agree that what they see before them is horrifying.

  Chapter Six:

  Caleb’s Revelation

  The television flickers off and on as the students gather around the last beacon of hope in the student union building. Tony finds a way to increase the volume, somehow navigating the options despite the large crack in the screen. In an instant, the blare of a reporter’s voice echoes through the room. Students exit the cafeteria and make their way towards the news.

  BNC’s Patty Denker stands roughly one mile from Lymon Collins University, an HBCU in Alabama.

  “I repeat, if you can hear me, please listen,” she says, quickly looking over her shoulder. “The government has issued a state of emergency. If you are not on the streets, you must return to your homes immediately.” Her voice cracks as she pleads with what she suspects are home viewers. “It is feared that a massive storm has taken over every HBCU in our country.”

  Bree and Caleb listen intently. Jaylen advances towards the television slowly, his eyes glued to the screen.

  “As reported earlier, it is our understanding that National Security Adviser Brad Doley will be updating on the severity of this evolving situation.”

  The hall falls completely silent. All present black students appear genuinely nervous, failing to put words to the situation at hand.

  “It started at noon today,” Patty Denker continues, “Clouds and an ominous green glowing ring hovered over every predominantly black university in the nation. Several students are feared to have disappeared in the mist.” Caleb glances over at Professor Green, who tries his best to keep his eyes on the television set. “Here is what we know so far: all one-hundred and twenty HBCUs are at risk. If students of these universities can hear me, please lock your doors and stay inside.”

  Patty nervously forces a strand of hair behind her ear as the wind picks up. Her hand shake while trying to retain a grip on her microphone. She taps her earpiece, undoubtedly receiving an update from her producers.

  “I’m being told that the National Security Adviser will be issuing a statement. Let’s cut to him now.”

  With some static in between their transfer, they cut to Brad Doley, a heavyset white male with jet black hair, slightly graying near his ears. His expression is unnerving, completely different from the reporter. Standing proudly at the podium in front of federal agents on an airline tarmac, he looks out to the barrage of ravenous reporters.

  “As most American citizens have heard, this unprecedented storm is devastating.,” he begins, clearing his throat during a pause. “Over the last few hours, several circular storm clouds have cascaded over the aforementioned one-hundred and twenty HBCU campuses in our country”

  Brad loosens his tie, removing the suffocating view of his too-tight dress shirt. He glances down towards his notes for a moment, his following words were slow and steady, intentional. “We are not certain as to the cause of these storms.”

  Jaylen’s whispers reach Caleb’s ear. “You know this asshole is lying, right? They always know.” Caleb snaps his focus back to the screen as Adviser Doley continues.

  “We are taking every measure to assure the safety of all Americans. We are studying and moving with the storms to determine the cause behind them.

  Professor Gr
een breaks the attention of the room. Placing his hand over his mouth, he limps closer to the television. The entire room remains silent, all eyes glaring at the professor.

  “This is such bullshit,” A female student in the room blurts out.

  “Furthermore,” Doley says as he returns to his notes, “we will not be frightened by nature’s wrath and destruction. We will get through this together as one nation. Thank you.”

  Reporters begin firing off questions one after another, creating a den of illegible speech that clouds the screen. One man’s voice overpowers the others, cutting through the madness.

  “Where did the storm originate?” He asks, forcing the microphone on Doley. He clears his throat before continuing. “In the deep south.”

  “Can you predict the pattern of these storms?”

  “A professor at Morehouse is helping us to determine the path. Next question.”

  Voices roar through the air. Doley is visibly sweating, his nerves on end.

  “How convenient is it that every storm is over an HBCU?”

  Doley takes a moment, scanning his mind for answers. It’s simple to spot a liar when you see one, and every second he waits to answer, the nation grows more skeptical.

  “That fact is irrelevant at this time. We are simply looking at that as a coincidence.”

  “He’s lying,” a fellow student interjects.

  “Is every other university in the country safe?” Another reported asks.

  “It appears that way,” Doley responds rather gingerly. “Next question.” He points towards a woman with her hand raised.

  “In certain parts of the country, all communication has been lost. Can you speak about the global impact of the storms? Are we the only continent affected?”

  Doley quickly turns to his chief of staff, who points to his watch.

  “This will be the last question. Our intelligence tells us that we are the only nation affected at the moment.”

  Jaylen shakes his head. “How convenient,” he states sarcastically.

  Doley mentions that he’s finished taking questions, and states that more information will be unveiled at the upcoming briefing. As he attempts to leave the podium, the chief of staff’s face coils: Doley turns to one more reporter.

 

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