Predominance

by H. I. Defaz

  “Geez!” she protested under her breath, pulling up. “For a guy with telekinesis, I sure have to help you out a lot. How many times do I have to pull you up from a ledge?”

  “Thanks!” I gasped, finally on top of the elevator.

  “That's three you owe me now, buddy.”

  I gave her a stern look as I panted, “Let's try not to keep score, all right?”

  She gave me a crooked smile and helped me shut the hatch beneath us. No need to make it obvious where we'd gone. Once it was closed, we were left in complete darkness; but my night sight was back, and we managed to find the ventilation shaft easily enough. We crept into the narrow flue and crawled towards the Lab. A moment later, a loud buzzer followed by a metallic thud behind us alerted us that the elevator had been overridden and was now on the move again. We registered the event and kept crawling toward the faint light at the end of the tunnel.

  Soon we reached a slotted panel underneath us that overlooked the Lab, and watched the two guards from my vision board the elevator and leave. With the Lab now empty, we unclipped the grill and climbed down onto a capsule that sat immediately below. If I wasn't mistaken, it was Tom's; and my stomach twinged as I realized that the nice man I'd met a few days before was now probably dead. Once I hit the floor I began to check every capsule, looking for Yvette, while Sarah ran to the control panel and locked down every entrance to the Lab, sealing us safely inside.

  Capsule after capsule, I found nothing. My heart was sinking fast, fearing that I'd been too late. But the last capsule brought hope back into my heart. Its mechanism was on, proving someone still lay inside, but the foggy glass shield made it impossible to determine who. So I rushed to open it with Sarah’s help. Finally, I yanked the lever and stood back while the glass shield slid open. Sarah and I stepped in closer as fumes escaped the capsule, dispersing and disappearing into the air.

  The shocking contents startled us both, making us stagger backwards in horror. A cold shiver crawled up my spine, lifting the hairs on the back of my neck “Oh, my God!” Sarah exclaimed in shock, turning her face from the horrific sight.

  I found myself struggling to register the gruesome spectacle, yet my intensified senses left no room for doubt—the nightmare was real. Swallowing hard to keep from vomiting, I scrutinized the blood-splattered interior of the capsule, where the body of a male patient lay, lifeless, his head blown apart like a burst balloon.

  His right eye, which barely remained inside what was left of its orbital socket, reflected the most disturbing look I've ever seen—as if he'd been conscious at the moment of death, and his death had been excruciatingly painful. It looked like his head had blown from the inside out, like an egg in a microwave. The identity of the poor soul was revealed the moment I checked his ID bracelet, which read: William Delgado.

  “Oh, Billie,” I groaned.

  Sarah came from behind me with a clean sheet and covered the mutilated body. “Did you know him?” she asked.

  “I met him the day I arrived. He was the youngest one of our group. He was just a kid, Sarah…” My eyes closed tightly as my feelings began to edge toward anger again. “I'm sorry, Billie. I'm sorry we were too late.”

  The thought of Yvette sharing Billie's fate transformed my anger into rage. My eyes began to burn as they had when I'd taken control of the guards during our escape. Sarah, recognizing the reaction, stepped back warily and looked at me with alarm. “Victor?” she called fearfully. “Don't—”

  A soft thud made us turn our focus to the elevator, which seemed to be arriving again. “Crap!” Sarah growled. “They know we're here, Victor. We have to get out now!”

  “No!” I snapped, feeling the dark force winning the game of mercy inside my head. “Let them come.”

  The rising tide of power was like a drug, fueling my brain with the same euphoria I'd felt back on the river. The idea of letting it control me was intoxicating—so much so that I found myself no longer fighting it.

  “Victor!” Sara said desperately, shaking me by the shoulders. “Look at me. Look at me! You can't let it win, Victor. Come back! Come back, Victor!”

  Part of me wanted to listen, but the other—the much stronger part—wanted revenge. Wanted to make them pay for what they had done. “Run, Sarah,” I told her thickly. “You have to run. Get out...”

  “NO!” she yelped as a euphoric trance began to chain my will into final submission. “Wake up!” Sarah commanded. “Wake up!”

  Getting no response, Sarah decided to try a different type of persuasion: she grabbed my head firmly with both hands and mashed her lips against mine in a passionate kiss that snatched my concentration back from the powerful dark tide washing me away. Without its energy fueling me, my anger subsided and my volition returned. Finally released from its trance, I found myself completely subdued by Sarah's kiss.

  When our lips finally parted I was out of breath, stunned, and confused—but still myself. Sarah let her hands glide down my face as she backed away, her eyes fixed on mine. Too stunned to ask what had happened, I stood there, dazed and dumbfounded.

  “Are you back?” she asked in a shaky whisper. I could only nod in response. I was still trying to process the complexities that had just taken place, too baffled to speak. “Good!” she said sharply. “Now let's go.”

  I nodded again and followed her as she dashed back to the ventilation shaft. I shook my head hard, trying to shake off the groggy feeling the experience had left in me; but the daze lingered like a sedative. Sarah climbed up onto one of the capsules to reach the duct. I followed her as fast as I could, but my movements were clumsy and uncoordinated. Still, I made it into the duct...and she didn't even have to pull me in this time. Once inside, we set the slotted panel back into place and waited for company to arrive.

  The doors of the elevator slid open not 30 seconds later and footsteps clacked against the tiled floor, accompanied by voices.

  “Check the controls. The doors were locked from the inside,” said a snappish voice—probably the new Head of Security, or the leader of Walker's little army.

  “Yessir!”

  A familiar voice addressed one of the guards. “What seems to be the problem?” Dr. Walker asked.

  “We appear to have a glitch in the system, sir. First with the elevator and now with the lab's locking mechanism.”

  “I see.” I heard a scuffing sound. “There's still blood visible between these tiles here, Black. I want your men back in here to clean it up after we're done.”

  “Yessir. We'll scour it ASAP, sir.”

  “We're not friggin' janitors,” I heard another voice mutter close by, and held my breath. I hadn't even heard the guy approach.

  Through the slotted panel, I watched Dr. Walker approach Billie's open capsule. He stood silently in front of it, scrutinizing the sheet that covered the body of the poor kid. “Put the facility on full alert,” he said, disturbingly calm. “Glitches do not cover dead bodies.”

  “Yessir!”

  After peeking under the sheet, Dr. Walker turned to address the entire squad, his voice no longer serene. “Now listen up, everyone! We all know who the intruder is. He's killed four of our guards already and should be considered extremely dangerous. So use caution. I want guards at every possible exit. He's not to leave the facility this time—understood?”

  “Yessir!” a conglomerate of voices answered as one.

  “Now move!”

  Rapid footsteps exited the lab, leaving Dr. Walker alone with the one squad member who'd stayed behind. With the physique of a badass marine, the middle-aged soldier looked pretty intimidating, yet his eyes resembled those of a concerned father. And though the ugly scar he hid behind his goatee screamed “beware,” his demeanor radiated righteousness and trustworthiness. “Dr. Walker?” he called.

  “Yes, Captain Black?”

  “I've dug up some information on Bellator,” he said, giving Walker a dubious look. “And I must say I'm a little confused.”

  “How do you mean
, Captain?” Dr. Walker's voice was polite.

  “Well, let's see.” He pulled a file from under his arm. “Bellator, Victor: 23 years old, 5'7”, 160 pounds. Survivor of an automobile accident in which he suffered a major head injury three years ago. Diagnosed with an untreatable intracranial pressure. Suffers from headaches, sensitivity to light, and mood swings. Despite his condition, he continued his studies and graduated at the top of his class. His concentration was in physics and mathematics. He's been described by friends and colleagues as an upstanding, law-abiding citizen.” He stopped with a heavy sigh and closed the file. “Now forgive me, Doctor. But this doesn't sound like the profile of a dangerous killer.”

  “I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking me, Captain.”

  “I'm trying to understand how a legally disabled kid, who's never picked a fight in his entire life, came to overpower and kill four armed men, each bigger than him.”

  “I was under the impression you were sent here to assist me with the capture of a dangerous patient, Captain,” Walker said in a bleak tone, “not to start an investigation.”

  “Look, Doctor, I don't know exactly what is it that you do here, and frankly I don't give a crap. But I'm responsible for the safety of my men. I need to know what I'm really going up against here.”

  “All you need to know, Captain, is that Victor Bellator is mentally unstable and extremely dangerous. And if you're the one who happens to stumble upon him, I'd suggest you put two bullets in his head before he can lock his eyes on you.” They exchanged uneasy looks. “Now if you'll excuse me, Captain, I have patients to attend to.” Dr. Walker turned away from him and walked back towards the elevator.

  “Just one last thing, Doctor.”

  Walker turned around reluctantly. “Yes, Captain?”

  “How can you be so sure this Bellator is the intruder we're looking for? I mean, he took four lives in order to escape this place. Why in the world would he come back?”

  Dr. Walker smiled smugly. “Because love makes you do foolish things, Captain.”

  The captain pondered that while Walker gave his back to him again.

  “What about this Sarah Grey?” Captain Black called out.

  Walker stopped again, but this time he didn't turn. “I wouldn't worry about her, Captain. She must be dead by now.” Walker finally left the room, leaving Captain Black alone in the lab, upset and confused.

  After pondering Walker's words for a few minutes, a troubled look on his face, the Captain unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt and brought it close to his mouth. He hesitated a moment before he spoke: “Attention, everyone. This is Captain Black. I've been ordered to use deadly force against the intruder.” He hesitated again. “Shoot to kill. Acknowledge. Over.”

  “Copy that, Captain,” a staticky voice confirmed, followed by several others.

  After Captain Black left the Lab, Sarah tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to follow her. I did so, crawling back to the elevator shaft with her. She was quiet along the way. I knew it was because of what had happened in the Lab, and I knew she wasn't going to be the one to bring it up. So despite my personal mortification, I decided to ask.

  “Sarah?” I called in a whisper, trying not to make much more noise than we were already making inside the ventilation shaft.

  “What?” she whispered back over her shoulder, her tone guarded.

  “What happened back there?”

  She stopped abruptly in front of me, making me bump into her feet. “I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up,” she said bitterly.

  “I'm sorry. I just want to—”

  “Look,” she interrupted, “I've been thinking about my theory about anger being the main trigger for your loss of volition. And I figured that if I diverted your focus from your anger, it just might stop the change from happening, okay?”

  “So naturally you thought of kissing me.”

  She looked over her shoulder again. “Well, I thought that might get your attention.” Her penetrating eyes stared at me for the longest moment, and a faint smile curled her lips before she turned back to resume her crawling.

  I shook my head in disbelief and continued to follow her until we finally reached the elevator shaft. From there, we climbed up a ladder to the first floor and entered the utility room. As she headed for the door, I asked, “Where are we going?”

  “I think I know where your friend is,” she said, as she opened the door to peek outside. “There's an isolation unit on the east wing. That's where Walker keeps surviving patients for study. If she's still alive, that's the only place she'd be. Let's just hope we don't bump into any of those guards.” She released her breath in a long sigh and said over her shoulder, “Let's go.”

  “Wait!” I pulled her back in. “I think it's time to put my gift to good use.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “In the woods I was able to sense things from a long way off, especially animals. Maybe I can do the same here if I concentrate hard enough.”

  “No,” she argued. “I've told you what could happen if you lose control. You almost did just a few minutes ago!”

  “I know. But I'm calm now. And nothing bad can happen if I'm calm, right?”

  “Theoretically, yes. But what if I'm wrong?”

  “Then you know what to do.”

  She blushed. “What if that doesn't work again?”

  My eyes narrowed to slits. “I meant run, Sarah.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now stand back.” I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts on the corridor outside the room. The spark in my head didn't take long to ignite. The invisible ramification that connected my brain with everything around me allowed me to smell, taste, hear, feel, and even mentally see my surroundings out to several hundred yards. The feeling was overwhelming, yet incredibly soothing at the same time. I felt no sense of rivalry within my mind, nor euphoria doping my brain; and yet, for some reason, I felt temped to taste it again. I ignored the feeling, focusing on the things I could sense around me. My mind traveled the empty corridors of the mansion, stopping at a huge metal door marked by a sign: Block-A. For some reason, my mind couldn't go pass that threshold. It did, however, reach outside the mansion, sensing the presence of guards swarming the perimeter.

  “The halls are empty,” I told Sarah, opening my eyes. “All the guards are outside covering the exits.”

  “Amazing,” Sarah whispered in awe. “You can actually see them?”

  I nodded diffidently, not knowing how to explain the lights, colors, and shapes that my mind was able to interpret as objects, animals, and people. Noting the confounded look on my face, Sarah dropped the subject and readied herself to go out the door. “All right, then,” she said, peeking again from the threshold. “Let's go.”

  Her red curls bounced as she moved along the hallway, graceful as a gazelle. I followed close behind her, though not nearly as gratefully. The polished marble floor of the hallway shone like a mirror, reflecting the lighting fixtures that hung above us, as well as the images of our own bodies. After cornering into another long corridor, I was able to see with my eyes the big metal door that I'd seen in my vision: a massive stainless steel double door that shone nearly as much as the perfect marble floors. A keypad on the wall beside it prompted for an access code.

  Sarah quickly punched in some numbers and waited.

  “Crap!” she grunted as a cutting beep denied her access. She sighed in frustration and tried again. But the same annoying beep followed the last digit she entered. “The master code isn't working. Walker must've disabled all security clearances after what happened in the lab. We can't get in.”

  My first reaction was to punch the door, over and over again, while Sarah, her back against the wall, slid down to the floor in dismay. I actually dented the damned thing, but quickly realized I was hurting myself more than it. I pressed my forehead against the cold steel of the door, eyes clenched shut, feeling nothing but hopelessness. I tried to control my breathing,
suppressing tears of frustration. Then I took a deep breath and tried to push myself off the door. But something odd happened: the palms of my hands stopped an inch away from touching the door, like a magnet will when driven toward another of the same polarity—yet magnetism wasn't a factor here.

  Something was creating an invisible field of energy between me and the door, an energy that allowed me to feel every inch of it...as if it were a part of me. Palpating the invisible field, I realized that this wasn't the first time I'd felt it. I'd felt it in the lab during our first escape, while I was falling into the gorge, and in the river when Sarah almost drowned. Suddenly, everything was clear. This was some aspect of my telekinesis manifesting: the ability to manipulate matter without touching it, once the mind established a connection with the molecular structure of an object.

  I couldn't help but see the irony in this. A skeptical physics student endowed with an ability that contradicted his knowledge, the very foundations of his faith? Xavier would've had a blast laughing at me.

  Suddenly I found myself reasoning with the impossible—or at least, with what I had thought was impossible—and I began to analyze the variables at hand. The more I concentrated on the door, the stronger this force field seemed to become. Pressure only seemed to reinforce it. After running the numbers in my head, I found myself stepping back while pushing at the invisible field, forcing it to expand between me and the door.

  “Victor?” Sarah called, clearly confused by my strange behavior.

  I stopped at what I thought it was a safe distance, and planted my feet firmly on the ground. Understanding the only logical step left for me to take, I braced myself internally as well and began to push the field—not only with my hands, but with my mind as well. “Sarah, stand back!” I warned as I leaned forward, applying more pressure to the invisible field. The doors creaked loudly then, and Sarah's eyes widened. Her face held a mixture of fear and excitement as she witnessed the paranormal phenomenon.

  I closed my eyes as I felt the doors shake on their hinges, and increased the pressure against the force field. The nature of the event itself challenged my concentration, which made my arms weaken and quiver. The door, however, seemed to be finally yielding to the pressure. So I steeled myself and pushed with everything I had.