Predominance

by H. I. Defaz

  “Hey!” Yvette came to me with a smile and hugged me. “You look great,” she said, running her fingers through my silvery patch of hair again. “I'm beginning to like this. It's definitely you.”

  I looked into her innocent eyes and I couldn't help feeling guilty for keeping the truth from her all this time. I was just trying to protect her, but my time was running out and she deserved to know the truth. So I steeled myself and decided to finally reveal my secret. “Yvee,” I began. “There's something I need to tell you—”

  “It's all right,” she said swiftly. “You don't have to. I know.”

  “How…” I trailed off, confused. But then my eyes flew to Sarah—Damian stood silently behind her, studying our every move like a hawk.

  “I'm sorry,” Sarah said. “I thought you were never going to tell her—and like I said before, she deserves to know.”

  “So much for doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “I'm not a doctor, and you're not my patient. If it makes you feel better, there's a reason why I decided to reveal your condition. While you guys went to Damian's cabin, I managed to contact my mentor in Sitka. He's finally resurfaced, and says he's fine. He told me he's willing to try to find a way to help you and Damian, though he said no promises. I'm confident he can find a way to reverse the change.” She smiled hopefully. “Your guys are going to be all right.”

  A sigh escaped my lips and, once again, I was dumbstruck. I guess I was having trouble believing the good news. My eyes slid back to Yvette, who was caressing my cheek with the palm of her hand. “It's all right, baby,” she comforted me. “You're going to be okay.”

  I reached for her hand and kissed it, finally heaving a deep sigh of relief that I ended with an elated chuckle. “That's—that's great news,” I said, trying not to cry. “Thank you, Sarah.”

  “Hey, I wouldn't be much of a heroine if I didn't help my sidekick get better, would I?”

  That cracked me up. “So now I'm the sidekick, huh?”

  “You always were, buddy.” She laughed with me and then met Yvette's stare. “Is it okay if I hug this gigantic pain in my ass?”

  “By my guest,” Yvette conceded with a smile, and pushed me gently in Sarah's direction.

  Sarah leaned the shovel she had in her hands against a wall and walked to me with a serious look on her face. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, as if she'd been wanting to do this for a long time. Her lips graced my ear when she whispered, “You deserve to be happy, Victor. And I won't leave until I see that through. I promise.” She let go of me and met my eyes candidly. “We're still in this together, right?”

  I nodded, overcome with sentiment.

  “Ahem!” Yvette cleared her throat and addressed me. “Victor, I want you to go with Sarah and meet this doctor in Sitka.” She paused ruefully. “And I want you to promise me you'll respect my decision.”

  I let go of Sarah and turned to Yvette, confused. “What are you talking about? What decision?”

  “I know about Damian's wife, and I won't allow anyone to get hurt on my account. I've promised Damian I'll do the swap, without any tricks. That way he can have his wife back. And I'm sure that once you get better, you'll come back for me again. Sarah has information that you guys can take to the police. I'll just hold on until they arrive. I can do it.”

  “Are you crazy?” I asked, stunned. “Whose idea was this?” My eyes flew to Damian and Sarah.

  “No one asked me to do this, Victor,” Yvette continued firmly. “I decided this on my own. I just can't stand to see anyone else get hurt. And I need you to please just respect my decision, all right?”

  “No!” I barked. “And I don't care how much you'll hate me for it when I don't. I will never let you do this, not in a million years!”

  “Victor?” Damian finally spoke.

  “And you'd better stay the hell away from this, Damian,” I said defiantly.

  He smirked challengingly. “I guess I always knew it would come to this.” He dropped the shovel in his hands and strode towards me, as if ready to engage, his eyes faintly glowing the same sulfuric yellow I'd seen back at his cabin.

  My eyes began to burn too.

  “Wait!” Sarah shouted, jumping between us. “I think I have an idea about how to use this swap to our advantage. Damian!” She turned to him. “We're going to get your wife out of there—and we're all going to help you, all right? But we have to work together, you understand? And Victor.” She turned to me. “I know you're not going to like this. But in order for this to work, Yvette needs to be involved.” She lowered her voice. “Victor, we can still beat this… together.”

  Damian and I kept glaring at each other.

  “I'm in!” Yvette snapped, making eye contact with Sarah, who smiled and nodded.

  “Well, that's one,” Sarah said. “Damian?” she asked, turning to him.

  “All right,” he said, backing off both literally and figuratively.

  “Victor?” Sarah turned to me now.

  I took a deep breath and sighed—reluctantly. “All right,” I said finally. “And what about Laura?”

  “She's in pretty bad shape,” Sarah explained. “I spoke with her earlier, and we decided it's better for her to just go home. Besides, we're going to need someone on the mainland to tell people what happened here, in case none of us makes it. She's got my flash drive with all the information I extracted from Walker's personal files. She knows what to do with it if she doesn't hear from us within the next forty-eight hours.”

  “All right, then,” I said grudgingly. “What's your plan?”

  The night was upon us, although the clock only read fifteen minutes to six. Normal for this time of the year, Sarah had said. Ketchikan nights weren't that much longer than the days during the springtime, yet nightfall finds you a lot early than usual. The cold front that had swatted us for the last couple of days was finally giving us a break, allowing us to enjoy a more comfortable night. A little outdoor thermometer in the porch pointed its needle at the lower fifties. It was the perfect setting to just stand on the porch and enjoy that naturally purified air that can only be found in a place like this.

  Unfortunately, I was incapable of enjoying anything at the moment. I was beyond distraught. I couldn't focus or reason anymore... And yet, I couldn't stop thinking about what was going to happen that night. I needed some time alone to reflect on the conflicting ideas that were muddling up my mind, so I thought I'd stay on the porch for a little while and try to reorganize my thoughts.

  I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to connect with my surroundings. It was an amazing feeling, having even partial control over this extraordinary power. This ethereal connection with nature was incredibly comforting. The trees, the calm waters of the pond, the air, even the sound of the crickets among the undergrowth were somehow soothing to my tumultuous mind.

  I was finally beginning to feel better when the sudden presence of a strange and almost negative energy rattled my concentration.

  “Hey,” Damian called from behind me. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” My tone was cold. “What's up?”

  “Everyone will be ready in about thirty minutes,” he said, uncharacteristically friendly. “The girls are just packing some necessities for the trip.”

  “Yeah, well… I'll be ready.”

  “Listen,” he began. “I know we haven't seen eye-to-eye since we met. But I want you to know, that doesn't mean I don't appreciate what you're doing.” He walked toward the newel post I was leaning against. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, um…” he trailed off, but managed to continue: “I'm sorry.” He turned to me and offered his hand for a shake.

  I stared at his hand for a moment before I met his shockingly sincere haze and sighed, letting go of my defensive attitude towards him. I pushed myself off the post and shook his hand firmly. “Apology accepted.”

  “Great!” he said, with a big smile on his face. “So…” he stretched, resting his arms on the porch railing, his eyes
peering into the dark night, “How bad do you think it's going to get?”

  “Bad.” My tone was ominous.

  “Come on!” He slapped my arm in a cheerful manner. “We have to have optimism and faith, right?”

  I chuckled sardonically. “You don't understand,” I said. “You're talking to the ultimate geek. Optimism and faith don't fit into any of the equations in my head. When I see a problem, I run the numbers and opt for the variable with the highest probability.”

  “Ouch!” he jeered. “That sounds cold. Did you run the numbers when you stormed into the Lab, looking for Yvette?” He sounded just like a trial lawyer then, trying to turn my words against me. He was good indeed.

  “No,” I confessed. “I didn't have anything to lose then.”

  He turned to me, leaning on his side, his elbow against the rail. “But all that changed the moment you found her, didn't it?” His eyes scrutinized my reaction, making me feel like I was sitting on the witness stand. I turned my eyes to the night sky, ignoring his rhetorical question, knowing that my face reflected the answer. “Yeah,” he said, turning to the night again, “maybe one day I'll be able to run the numbers, too.” He turned around and walked away, stopping right at the door. “But not tonight,” he added, turning his eyes back to me. “Not as long as she needs me.”

  “I know,” I admitted. “That's why I'm still here. Because I know how irrational love can make us. In my case, it was worth every dumb decision I made.” I shared a hopeful smile with him. “We're going to get her back, Damian.” My tone turned serious again. “I promised.”

  He nodded, a wistful smile on his face. “You're a good man, Victor. It's a pity our paths crossed here and not under more favorable circumstances. You're someone I'd be proud to call my friend.”

  I smiled. “Likewise.”

  Coming back to Denali's cabin was no longer part of the plan, so we packed as many provisions as we possibly could. Sarah brought some canned food, water, and medical supplies, while Yvette packed the camping gear she'd found in the cabin's garret. Damian, on the other hand—despite my firm disapproval—insisted on bringing as many guns as he could. In the spirit of keeping the peace, I let him bring them. After all, if everything went according to plan, we'd be in and out of that place long before anyone needed to discharge a firearm.

  “Victor!” Sarah called. “We're ready.”

  I took a final look at Denali's place, swallowing the Gordian knot my guilt had created in my throat, and said, “Thank you, Denali.” Then I slung my backpack over my shoulder and turned around. I jumped into the truck bed with Damian, letting Laura and Yvette ride in the front with Sarah, who we had picked as our designated getaway driver. I tapped on the window and gave her a good-to-go signal. She shifted into gear and took off.

  None of us had the strength to look back.

  Our first stop was the ferry terminal, where we dropped off Laura. Strangely, she had been the only one who had survived the procedure without any adverse side effects. And not only that, but her original condition seemed to have been cured as well. Perhaps we saved her just in time, which gave me an incredible feeling of accomplishment. At least one of us was going to make it out of this damned place alive and well.

  Laura was nervous, but happy to finally be leaving. Sarah gave her a few last-minute instructions, along with some money she could use to get home. Yvette gave her a tight hug and wished her well. “Take care,” she said, still sitting in the cab of the truck.

  “You too, sweetheart,” Laura whispered maternally, and got out of the truck. She walked toward the terminal, looking back and waving over her shoulder every two seconds. But then she stopped and pondered for the longest moment, her eyes to the ground. She looked up as if with a sudden insight and turned, calling my name.

  I jumped out of the truck bed and ran to her. “What's wrong?” I asked, watching her smile for the first time.

  “You get to see her again!” she blurted.

  “What?”

  “You don't need to be sad,” she said, holding my hands, her eyes filled with hope. “You get to see her again,” she repeated, as if convinced of her own words. “Don't let your sadness turn you into something you're not.”

  “I-I don't understand,” I muttered.

  She leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “You even get to see her dance.” She quickly moved away, letting go of my hands, smiled, and ran towards the terminal. “Remember,” she called over her shoulder, “Don't be sad!”

  I returned to the truck, staring blankly into space, trying to find some meaning to Laura's words. But I found myself musing to no avail. “What did she say?” Damian asked as I jumped back into the truck.

  “Beats me,” I muttered, sitting on the bare truck bed, pondering on whether Laura had really survived the procedure without any consequences—or if she'd been the smartest one of all, keeping her new talents a secret. And if so, to whom was she referring? Yvee, or someone else?

  I guess I'll find out, I told myself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tragedy at the Warehouse

  THE ROAD AHEAD was as dark as the ominous future that had awaited us at R.C. Labs. But in our own ways, we all seemed determined to do our best to achieve what we believed to be our last mission against the man we'd once thought was our last chance for survival. I reiterated to Damian that my goal was to get his wife out of there by using the element of surprise—via wits rather than force. I reminded him that the success of this operation depended on our ability to maintain cool heads, no matter what happened.

  I understood that this was easier said than done, but the last thing we needed at this point was another bloodbath like the one at Damian's cabin. Damian didn't argue with me, but he didn't agree to anything either. He just sat there in silence, leaning against the cab with his arms wrapped around his knees. Eventually I realized that he wasn't even paying any attention to me; he was listening to a conversation taking place in the cab.

  I'd been so busy with my own thoughts that I'd forgotten completely about Yvette and Sarah being alone together in the cab... and they were apparently having a very engaging conversation. Sitting with my back against the tailgate didn't allow me to hear anything. Damian, on the other hand, seemed amused by their repartee. At one point, he even pressed his ear against the sliding glass to try for clearer reception.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked him, annoyed.

  “Shhh!” he hissed, finger to lip. His brows puckered in surprise then, as if he'd just heard something of great interest. “Wow!” he exclaimed, finally leaning away from the glass. “You just missed a very interesting chat.”

  I narrowed my eyes in disapproval, giving him nothing but silence. “What?” he demanded; an annoying grin on his face. “Aren't you going to ask me what I heard?”

  My silence continued. “Oh! I see,” he realized, letting out a sarcastic snort. “A goody-goody Boy Scout like you probably thinks eavesdropping is an evil thing, right?”

  I smiled at his taunt. “Information from third parties can often be… misleading,” I said, feeling it was my turn to taunt. “Even a sleazy shyster like you should know that.”

  He broke into laughter. “You really don't like lawyers, do you?”

  “Nobody likes lawyers, Damian. Let's just say that I've seen how you guys take advantage of easily misconstrued information in order to manipulate the system—without even caring what's right or wrong.” I flashed him a sarcastic smile.

  “Right…” he drawled, a wry tone in his voice, “The good ol' debate about what's right and wrong.” He mused for a long second. “It's useless, you know?”

  “What is?” I asked, intrigued.

  “Trying to separate the two,” he said.

  “Not in my book.”

  He chuckled, a mixture of sadness and irony on his face. “You'd be surprised to see how easy it is to vindicate a wrongdoing when you know it could save someone you love, Victor. And if it does… then how can that be wro
ng?”

  I sat quietly as he elucidated his own justification of evil. “Motivation and purpose,” he declared. “They both cling to our own personal viewpoints, which in turn determines what's right and what's wrong… what's good and evil.” He smiled at me, as if he'd just won a debate. And although I know I could have argued this radical conclusion, instead I found myself pondering its disturbing logic.

  “So,” he said, returning to our previous conversation, “Do you want me to tell you what I heard or not?”

  I smiled. “Well, let me ask you this… Is it something that I'll be able to find out for myself if you don't tell me?”

  A mischievous smile curved his lips as and nodded his head. “Yeah, probably.”

  “Then I'd rather wait.”

  “Suit yourself,” he chuckled, leaning back against the cab.

  We both remained quiet for the rest of the ride.

  ***

  Sarah's plan consisted of using an unpaved road she knew connected the Lab's warehouse to one of the main highways. The road had never been finished, so it lacked surveillance and security. No cameras or guards would learn of our presence once we'd reached it. It was the perfect infiltration point, as well as the perfect getaway. Once inside, Damian would approach the entrance to the warehouse, where a single camera was used to check the outside of the overhead door. There, he would deliberately give away his presence, which we hoped would bring Dr. Walker out to negotiate, giving his keen desire to acquire Yvette.

  There were two strategic points in our plan: a utility shed between the warehouse and the road, where Sarah would have the truck running and ready to go, and a lamppost thirty feet away from the overhead door—the only source of light in that part of the facility. Yvette was to wait behind the shed for Damian's signal. Once his wife was sent out for the trade, he would call Yvette, who would walk towards the warehouse to complete the swap. When the moment was right, I was to smash the light on that lamppost using my telekinesis, leaving the meadow in darkness, which we hoped would cause enough commotion for us to move in closer. Sarah then would drive the truck to the 'swap spot' and have everyone jump into the truck bed before bolting for our exit.