Predominance

by H. I. Defaz

  “That'll buy us some time,” Damian said smugly as Sarah and I exchanged uneasy glances, understanding there was now another paranormal threat out in the world besides me.

  Chapter Ten

  Piano Key

  THE TOWN CAR'S engine objected strenuously as Sarah pushed the bullet-holed car to its limits. The tires squealed when she finally cornered onto the main road. The car flew along the empty highway. A distinctive glare coming from the distant horizon made me look up: the sun was rising, welcoming me to another day I'd survived to see. I turned to Sarah, who was taking turns watching me and the road. As soon as our eyes met, she flashed me a wide, victorious smile.

  I smiled too. We didn't need words to understand each other's feelings at that point. After everything we'd gone through, we'd made it. We had actually made it!

  Our celebration was cut short when the blonde woman in the back seat began to scream hysterically. I turned to find the brawny black guy barely conscious, with his hands covering his midsection. Blood flowed between his fingers. “Easy, buddy,” I said, reaching for his hands. He groaned. “I'm sorry, buddy, but I need to look.” I moved his hands away carefully and saw blood oozing out of a nasty gunshot wound on the left upper side of his torso. “He's been shot,” I said, turning to Sarah.

  The blonde lady began to scream again, only this time she didn't stop. Sarah cursed and hit the wheel.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” Damian turned to the screaming lady. “What's your name?”

  “Laura,” she cried, hyperventilating.

  “Laura?” Damian glared at her. “Shut the hell up!”

  It was crude, but it worked. Laura stopped screaming and began to sob quietly, staring at Damian with accusing eyes. Damian turned back to me. After another quick look at the big man's wound, he shook his head with bleak eyes. I gave him a disapproving look and turned back to the injured man. “Hey, what's your name, buddy?”

  “R-r-roger,” he said feebly, “M-my name's Roger.”

  “Okay, Roger. You're going to be all right. We're going to help you, okay? I just need you to keep pressure on this for a little while longer, can you do that?”

  He grunted as I put his hands back on the wound, nodding. “Yeah.”

  My eyes slid to Yvette, who was in complete shock. “Hey,” I said softly, stroking her head. “Are you okay?” She nodded, reached for my hand, and pressed it against her cheek—she was trembling. It was only when I leaned towards the back that I realized how much wind was entering the car through the hole where the rear windshield had been. “We need to stop to regroup,” I called to Sarah over my shoulder.

  “And where do you suggest we do that?” was her tart reply.

  I kissed Yvette's hand and sat back on the passenger seat, but not before I locked eyes with Damian again. He seemed to be scrutinizing everyone in the car, especially me. I dug through the glove compartment, and luckily I found exactly what we needed: an address. I asked Sarah for the map that had taken us out of the woods and studied it. It didn't take me long to get my bearings and locate the place I'd decided to go.

  “Keep driving south,” I told Sarah. “I think I've found a place we can go.”

  “Whoa!” Damian broke in. “I'm not going anywhere until I get my wife.”

  “Your wife?” I asked, taken aback.

  “Walker said my wife would pay the price if I didn't cooperate. That's the only reason I agreed to be his guinea pig for the last three days. I'm afraid when he finds out I'm one of the people who'd escaped…” he paused, “...that he'll send someone for her.”

  “Wait,” Sarah jumped in, “Walker's been studying you for three days?”

  Damian ignored Sarah's question and turned back to me. “I need to get to my wife.” His statement had the tone of a command—no, it was more like a warning, as if he were hinting that he'd stop at nothing and yield to no one in order to get what he wanted. Having watched what he was capable of, I knew I'd be a fool to piss this man off. Besides, how could I judge him for his adamant determination? Just an hour ago I was operating under the same sort of compulsion, so I knew exactly what he was going through. Yet I couldn't stop thinking about the safety of the rest of us.

  Damian was borderline distraught and growing more impatient by the minute. It was like watching a time bomb getting ready to blow. I considered for a minute, throwing glances at every person in the car, especially my Yvee, and then tried to handle the situation. “Where is she?” I asked Damian.

  “We rented a cabin twenty minutes south of Ketchikan. Walker made me call her after I woke up from the procedure.” His jaw went taut with regret. “I told her everything was okay. I told her to wait for me.”

  “Does Walker know the location of this cabin?”

  Damian's face drooped, anger overflowing in his eyes. “Yes,” he rasped.

  “Are you aware of the details of your new condition, and the side effects of the procedure?”

  “The good and evil bullshit?” Damian's voice was hard. “Yes. I am.”

  A profound silence engulfed the car as I ran the numbers in my head. In the rearview mirror I saw Yvette, Laura, and Roger exchanging confused looks.

  “Stop the car,” I said to Sarah after a long moment.

  “What?” She frowned confused.

  “Stop the car,” I repeated. “Now.” She gave me a puzzled look and began to pull over. “Check on Roger, will you?” The car stopped on the gravelly shoulder lane and I opened my door in a hurry. “Damian?” I called as I got out of the car.

  Damian exited the car and followed me several feet away from the vehicle.

  “Look,” I said as I turned around to face him, “If you truly know your condition, then you know your exasperation can only lead to disaster. You need to calm down, understand?”

  “How can you ask me to do that when I know what those people can do to my wife? When you know that—”

  “I know!” I burst out angrily. “But for her sake and yours, you need to learn to control your feelings!” I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. “Sarah told me the details of our...condition. Once we lose our volition, it's over. We'll become a threat to the people we love—and we'll be taken down like rabid dogs. By R.C. Labs, by the police, by the military, or anyone else who learns of our existence.”

  “I won't let that happen. I've seen what I can do. I can take on a whole army if necessary—”

  “Oh yeah? At what cost?”

  “I can control it!”

  “No, you can't.” I sighed ruefully. “Not alone. Believe me, I know.”

  “What are you saying?”

  I took a second to respond. “I was scheduled for termination—vivisection—when Sarah got me out of the lab. You and I shared the same procedure, yet for some reason Walker intended to keep you alive. That means you have something he wants...and I'm sure he wants it back. By now he knows you've escaped, and he knows where you're going next. But knowing the level of control you have over your powers, I doubt he'd be stupid enough to come at you head-on. He'll wait for an opportunity to catch you off guard. And the only way to do that is by making you believe there's no danger.”

  I paused. “Going back to your cabin is a death trap.” Damian looked thoughtful. “Unless,” I continued, “we can find a way to create a diversion that'll allow us to go in and out undetected. Of course, that doesn't lower the risk factor. We can still spring the trap and get caught in another confrontation.”

  “We?”

  “I'm coming with you, Damian. I'm going to help you get her back.”

  He scoffed. “You don't even know us. Why would you do that? Why would you risk your life?”

  My response was plain and simple. “Because it's the right thing to do. Just like getting these people to safety is the right thing to do.” I looked into his eyes and saw reason coming back to his troubled mind. “Let me get them out of harm's way, and I promise you I'll go with you.”

  Damian considered for a moment. “Time’s of the essence,�
�� he said finally. “We have to move fast.” He stuck out his hand. I reached out and bound my promise to help him with a strong shake.

  ***

  Back in the car, Sarah informed me that Roger's wound had looked a lot worse than it actually was, and that he was going to be okay. All she needed was a medical kit to patch him up—which was great news, considering the circumstances. In the few minutes I'd spent talking to Damian, she had also managed to bring the others up to speed on what was happening. She did, however, manage to keep the fact that Damian and I were on the verge of turning into vicious, unstoppable monsters out of the conversation. Later she told me that was something I should tell Yvette myself, and I agreed. Sarah's abridged explanation had been enough to leave Yvette, Laura, and Roger in complete shock, so I figured I should let that settle before I jammed anything else in.

  Back on the road, I let the severity of my thoughts disconnect me from reality. Once or twice, I think, Sarah tried to talk to me, but I was too far away to hear her. I had no idea how I was going to ask Yvette to wait for me again, or tell Sarah I'd decided to go on another suicide mission—without her this time. Knowing how stubborn she was, I knew I'd have to talk her out of coming with me. By now Sarah had begun to think of herself as my official sidekick and I… well, I had begun to care about her. A lot. She was not only my friend, but the woman who'd saved my life more than once. I didn't have a shred of doubt about my feelings for Yvette; I loved her more than life itself. But I really hoped I'd never have to explain to her, or to anybody else for that matter, my feelings towards Sarah... because that was something I couldn't explain myself.

  Sarah followed my directions into a small gravel path off the highway. At the end of the road stood a log cabin. The place was rustic in nature, yet it held a beauty I'd only seen in paintings. A peaceful pond, just a short stroll away from the entrance, reflected a dull image of the old cabin; tall, majestic firs kept it well hidden from prying eyes. The name Johnson was stenciled on the rusty mailbox outside the porch.

  I asked Sarah to stop the car and stay put while I knocked on the door. I tried to be subtle, but the squeaky floorboards on the porch gave away my presence before I got the chance to knock. My knuckles were left hanging in the air when the solid wooden door flew open and a rifle barrel stopped an inch away from my face.

  “Whoa! Whoa! It's me!” I waved my hands frantically in front of the cocked weapon.

  “Mr. Victor?” Denali lowered his rifle as soon as he recognized me.

  “Yeah. It's me.” I exhaled heavily and tried to recover from the shock. “Geez! You scared the shit out of me!”

  “You scared me. I wasn't exactly expecting company after what happened last night.” He paused and uncocked his rifle. “How did you manage to find me, anyway?”

  I pulled a wallet from my pocket and handed it to him. “You actually did leave your wallet in the Town Car. I found it in the glove compartment.” He took it and thanked me with a confused look on his face. “Look, Denali, I'm sorry I've dragged you into this. But you're the only other person I know within three thousand miles that I feel I can trust.”

  “Are those your friends?” he asked, throwing a quick look toward the car, where Sarah stood impatiently by the open door.

  “Yes,” I said quickly. “And one of us is wounded. Can you help us?”

  He looked at me for a long second and smiled. “Sure, Mr. Victor,” he agreed, inviting me in. “I have plenty of food and water. You and your friends help yourselves.”

  “Thank you, Denali.” I heaved a deep sigh of relief and patted him on the shoulder. Then I turned to beckon the others to the house. I did the introductions as they came inside. Yvette quickly noticed that Sarah wasn't introduced, but rather greeted by Denali as a known acquaintance. “Do you have something for them to wear?” I asked Denali, pointing out that everyone—except for Sarah and me, of course—was wearing hospital gowns.

  “Sure,” he said, watching Yvette walk into the house barefoot. “This, um, this was my grandmother's cabin,” he added. “I'm s-sure there are still some dresses in the closet that you can wear. Some shoes too. You're welcome to take a look,” he said, pointing at a built-in closet in the living room. Yvette thanked him and walked to the closet, where she began to dig through a couple of boxes labeled “Granny's Stuff.”

  Damian helped Laura bring Roger to the couch, and Sarah began to treat his wound with a first-aid kit Denali fetched for her. Meanwhile, I brought Denali up to speed with everything that had happened during our daring escape from the lab. The poor man didn't take it so well. His face paled, and for a moment I thought he was going to throw up.

  As soon as Sarah finished with Roger, she came over to me, took my face in both hands, and tilted my head to the side. “I need to clean the cut on your head,” she said, and began to unwrap the piece of cloth that covered my wound. “Don't move,” she commanded as she wiped the dry blood from my forehead with a piece of gauze soaked in alcohol. The sting made me flinch. “Oh, come on! Don't be such a baby.”

  I scowled at the grin on her face. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Damian staring at us. He'd found some clothes in Denali's closet and was now leaning against the door frame with his arms folded, watching Sarah replace my dressing. “Done!” Sarah finally said, placing the last piece of tape over the wrap.

  “Now all you have to do is kiss it to make it better,” Damian said sarcastically.

  Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and then turned back to me. She took my face in both hands again, pressed her lips against my bandages, and smacked a kiss that was heard throughout the entire cabin. “There!” she said with a smile on her face.

  Damian sneered.

  Looking in his direction, I noticed that Yvette had been standing behind him this whole time, her eyes moving back and forth between Sarah and me. She stalked hastily to the front door and opened it. “Yvette?” I called after her. She stopped at the threshold and waited, her eyes looking at the floor. “Where are you going?” I asked.

  Her eyes rose with a glare that pierced right through me, practically making a hole in my chest. “I need to get some air,” she said icily and stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind her. Damian gave me a trenchant look, and walked over to Denali.

  “I'll be back,” I told Sarah, and ran after Yvette. I didn't have to be a genius to understand what had upset her; I only hoped I could set things straight. I looked around from the porch and found Yvette standing by the pond, her eyes facing the water. As I walked over there, I examined her pick from Granny's Stuff. She was wearing a tea-length flowered dress that ended exactly at the beginning of a pair of three-quarter length boots. The dress was old, yet it fit perfectly, as if tailored intentionally to accentuate the curves of her body. The boots were made of suede with an embroidered pattern on the sides, which gave them a Pocahontas look.

  The cherry on top of the ice cream was the black-and-white Yankees jacket I'd given her when we escaped from the lab, which she'd decided to wear over the dress. And although the whole outfit was a complete mismatch, I couldn't help noticing how well she pulled it off. Her beauty was so compelling that she could've been wearing candy wrappers for a dress and still would have made it look like a fashion statement.

  “Yvee?” I called, trying to sound comforting—but, for some reason, I sounded guilty instead. “Are you all right?” I asked.

  She spun around and faced me; anger filled her eyes. “No, Victor! I'm not all right! I thought I understood what was happening, but I don't! I'm more confused now than ever before—and it's killing me!” She paused and took a deep, calming breath. “Please, Victor… just tell me the truth.”

  It took a long moment for me to figure out what truth she was talking about. I really didn't want to try to answer an unasked question, especially one where I'd be at a loss myself. “Well,” I finally began. “I still don't have all the answers, Yvee. All I know is that the procedure wasn't what we thought—”

  “I'm not ta
lking about the procedure!” she cut me off sharply. “I'm talking about you and Carrot-Top over there!”

  Though her words didn't catch me entirely by surprise, they still startled me. “Sarah?” I said innocently. “She's my friend, Yvee… She saved my life. Several times.”

  She sighed in defeat, her voice calm now. “Yeah… I know.” She paused regretfully. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm acting like a psycho… am I acting like a psycho?” she asked distressfully, too cutely for me not to laugh.

  “No,” I said, reaching out to her. Her eyes followed my hands as they entwine with hers, then rose to meet my gaze. A coating of tears glazed her amazing baby blues now. My smile disappeared as I got lost inside her eyes, which sent an inexplicable shock of energy throughout my entire body. A message was decoded in my brain in a fraction of a second, as if the wave of energy I'd felt from her had been nothing more than an unspoken question my mind had been able to sense through our touch. “Do you still love me?” my mind interpreted, as her eyes probed the depths of mine.

  “With all my heart,” I said aloud, tightening our clasped hands.

  My words startled Yvette, yet a soft smile lit up her face. “What?” she asked.

  I shook my head, as if coming out of a trance. “I'm sorry. I thought you asked me something.”

  “I didn't say anything,” she mused. “But I felt it… Just like I felt your answer before it came out of your lips.” She exhaled heavily, confused. “This is weird. Should we be worried?”