Predominance

by H. I. Defaz

  “You're insane!” I exclaimed in shock. “Even if I choose to believe that an imminent danger is stalking Yvette and Sarah, I would never trust someone like you to protect them!”

  “Did you just say someone like you?” He seemed amused for some reason.

  “Yes! It's obvious you hate me. You've made that point perfectly clear. Why would you care what happens to the people I care about?”

  A long-suffering sigh escaped his lips before he began to speak again. “I don't hate you, Victor,” he said quietly. His voice was almost sad now. “How could I? In fact, I've often wished I could be more like you… just like I know you've wished to be more like me sometimes.” He paused again. “But that will never happen. It can't.”

  A cold shiver ran throughout my entire body. “Who are you?” I demanded, though I was beginning to suspect the truth.

  He ignored my terrified question and continued. “Our nature is to be opposites, sharing nothing but one thing. Do you know what that is, Victor?”

  A morbid feeling compelled me to probe. “No,” I whispered. “Tell me.”

  “Affinity,” he hissed sharply. “We share the same inclinations towards the same things.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked puzzled.

  “I'm saying that I love them, too, Victor. And just like you, I feel the conflict of loving them both at the same time.” His words made my heart stop, sending an icy shudder racing up and down my spine, as if my subconscious were truly beginning to understand the meaning of his twisted words. “I suppose that's another difference that sets us apart,” he added in a ponderous tone. “I'm not afraid to admit my emotional dissonance, which in my case only supports my claim. And my strong commitment to keeping both of them safe, no matter what extremes I have to take.”

  Though I was beginning to dread the answer, I kept asking the same question. “Who are you?” But he kept ignoring me, as if my question had never left my lips, let alone reached his ears.

  “And as for trust,” he continued, “Sometimes all we can do is take a leap of faith… Isn't that right, Victor?”

  “Who are you?” I demanded, edgier than ever before. “Tell me!”

  A powerful quake shook the room, knocking us both off our feet. And it continued to shake us with such magnitude that it made it impossible for either of us to get off the floor. I could hear the walls cracking, like a walnut under the pressure of a powerful fist. With every splintering sound I felt an agonizing pain that stabbed through my head like an ice pick—or one of Sonya's steel rebars. I applied pressure to my temples with the heels of my hands, like I used to do not so long ago when my headaches got the best of me.

  I felt crack after painful crack. I thought my head was about to explode—until the quake finally stopped.

  I opened my eyes and slowly lifted my head, to see that strange shafts of bright light were beginning to stream through the cracks in the fissured walls. I was relieved to see the light—relieved to discover that this dreadful darkness didn't continue beyond this room. The light was white and powerful, almost...cleansing. Yet the cracks where the light were entering were too narrow to illuminate the entire room, which—as strange as it may sound—made me feel safe.

  I no longer wanted to see the face of the man I had to relinquish my life to.

  “What… What just happened?” I asked, still shaken by the episode.

  “We're running out of time,” my mysterious cellmate replied, pacing nervously back and forth in the only corner still untouched by the light. “You have to let me out.”

  Then, driven by his trepidation, he strayed away from the shadows and walked right through one of light beams, which in its narrowed form created, from temple to temple, an unveiling eye-mask that allowed me to see, if only for one second, the intensity of his glare. A sharp knock of fear suddenly pounded my chest when I realized that I'd seen those eyes before. The color was pure gray, the same malevolent gray that had tainted my eyes when my anger and revenge had almost taken control over my volition. I stumbled backwards in fear and asked the same dreadful question, one last time: “Who are you?”

  He lunged at me like a raging bull, wrapping his hands around my throat. “Let me out!” he demanded. “Let me out!” His hands tightened by the second.

  I tried desperately to escape his grip, but he was strong—much stronger than I was at the moment. The ground began to shake again, this time crumbling down one of the walls behind me, flooding the room with a powerful white glare that finally shone upon the face of my oppressor. For a long moment, I couldn't believe, or understand, what I was seeing. This maddening reality couldn't possibly be real. The man with whom I've been speaking all this time, the man who had tried to convince me to forfeit my life for his sake, the man now choking me with all of his intense hatred…

  ...was me.

  He was my own spit and image—and yet he wasn't. His unnatural gray eyes were filled with an anger and hatred I could almost taste, like a disgusting bile that was trying to invade all of my senses. His feathered hair was silver, the same dead silver that streaked my hair in an uneven patch above my forehead...and his inclination toward evil made him the perfect opposite of me.

  Fortunately, his eyes were overwhelmed by the same light that had exposed his identity, making him turn away from the intensity of the glare. I took advantage the second he turned his head away, yanking his hands off my throat and delivering a powerful kick to his solar plexus that sent him sailing ten feet across the room and gave me the opportunity to turn and run toward the light.

  “This isn't over, Victor!” he screamed furiously at the top of his lungs. “You can't run from me forever! Sooner or later, you're going to have to let me out! It's inevitable!”

  I kept running toward the light, until I was no longer running, but floating bodiless in the comforting white glow: not in body, but in my own subconscious mind. I waited there patiently, until a familiar voice that echoed in the distance brought me back to reality…

  Chapter Fifteen

  Laws of Physics

  “VICTOR, COME ON, wake up!” Sarah sounded distressed. She kept speaking, and her voice grew stronger by the second—unlike the white light, which was diminishing into a soft yellowish glow that began to warm my eyelids. I tried to open my eyes once I realized I was reconnected to my corporeal self, but my eyelids just fluttered, as if refusing to wake up from a nightmare—a very vivid nightmare. When I finally did open my eyes, I saw a distraught green-eyed face break out in a smile of relief.

  “Sarah?” I croaked feebly.

  “Yes, I'm here!” she answered.

  “Where… Where's Yvette? Is she all right?”

  Sarah sighed, as if relieved to hear my voice. “She's lost a lot of blood,” she said, “But she's going to be all right.” Her eyes flew to my far left.

  It wasn't until then that I realized I was lying on a bed, apparently in a motel room. Sarah was sitting on the edge of my mattress, while Yvette lay on the adjacent bed. She was asleep; I later learned that Sarah had administered morphine for pain, enough to knock her out for a good, long while.

  “She was very lucky,” Sarah said. “The bullet went through and through without hitting any bones or major arteries. I just had to stitch her up and gave her some pain medicine.” She paused for a second, changing her tone. “You, on the other hand, had me worried to death!” She chuckled with a mixture of anxiety and relief. I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “You don't remember, do you?”

  I shook my head silently.

  “I had to extract a bullet from your shoulder, which caused an infection. You've been fighting it for two days.” I was shocked to hear that I'd been out for so long. “Do you remember the explosion?” she asked.

  “Vaguely,” I said, still disoriented.

  “When the oxygen tanks went off, the explosion launched you far out into the meadow. By the time I got to you, your heart had stopped. Yvette and I worked on you for the longest time before we brought you back.” She
cleared her throat. “For a moment there, we thought we'd lost you.”

  “Damian,” I asked fretfully. “What happened to Damian?”

  Sarah lowered her head. “He didn't make it, Victor. He was too close to the oxygen tanks when they went up.”

  I closed my eyes tightly, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. “I failed him,” I said miserably.

  “He was trying to kill you, Victor.”

  “I failed him,” I repeated, holding back tears.

  Sarah stroked my head. “Just try and get some rest, okay?”

  “No,” I disagreed, remembering what had just happened inside my brain. “We don't have much time. We have to get to your mentor, before my side effects become irreversible.”

  “All right,” she conceded, a confused look on her face. “He gave me his address. But I'm afraid we can't get there by car, and we've already run out of money.”

  “Don't worry about money,” I answered confidently, thinking about the settlement money I'd never used. “I have enough to go around.”

  After reaching for my backpack and dragging it over, I gave Sarah a credit card and asked her to arrange transportation to wherever we needed to go. She agreed and left, reassuring me she wouldn't take too long. Just a few minutes after she left, Yvette began to wake up. She turned and moaned in pain before opening her eyes. “Victor?” she called in a hoarse whisper.

  “I'm here!” I answered eagerly, although it took me a minute to get out of my own bed—the pain in my shoulder was excruciating. I lumbered across the room until I reached the side of her bed, then sat on the edge of her mattress and ran my fingers through her hair. My touch elicited a soft moan that made her close her eyes and curved those sweet lips into a soft, pleasing smile, as if my mere touch had somehow abated her pain. But the fact was, a touch shared between us could do a lot more than that, as she reminded me the moment she opened her eyes.

  “I love you, too,” she said softly.

  “Hey!” I complained playfully. “I'm supposed to say it first, you know?”

  Her voice suddenly overloaded with emotion. “You did.”

  Despite her obvious pain, she grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me toward her bee-stung lips. My blood rushed faster through my veins, accelerating by the escalating rhythm of my enamored heart, just as it had the very first time under the weeping willow tree back at the Lab. The taste of her lips was definitely the nourishment my heart had hungered for all along—an aphrodisiac that was driving me absolutely crazy. And though we knew there were a thousand problems hovering around us, we decided to forget the world and get lost in our kiss.

  My God! I really thought I could go on kissing her forever. And I could have if her caressing hand hadn't strayed from playing with my hair, to wander down to my neck and then go straight to my wounded shoulder, triggering a sudden jolt of pain that made me stop and groan like a baby.

  “I'm sorry!” she apologized, biting her bottom lip—which I swear only drove me crazier. I cupped the back of her head then and mashed those fleshy lips against mine, as a highly uncharacteristic lust suddenly took control over me, plunging me into a deep ocean of ecstasy, in which I'd rather drown with her than resurface without her. I slowly began to caress her bare arm, brushing her soft, milky-white skin with the backs of my fingers, until my hand reached and cupped her delicate elbow. My mind then began to branch out, reaching an incredible resonance with Yvette's heart, which seemed to match the accelerated beat of my own. I listened to this hypnotic rhythm as I continued my search for Yvette's hand. I wanted to interlock our fingers like we'd done back in the meadow. So I kept gliding my fingertips along Yvette's forearm, raising tiny goose bumps on her skin along the way.

  This was, without a doubt, the most erotic moment of my life up to that point. But more than that, it was a moment of tenderness and complete surrender, in which I realized once again that this woman was not only the love of my life, but from now on my sole reason for existence.

  I finally found her hand resting on top of her bare thigh, which, I have to confess, only made me stray from her hand. Call it instinct, heat-of-the-moment, or simply naughtiness. But the truth is that I just couldn't restrain myself from gliding the palm of my hand over the side of her bare leg—so gently that I was barely touching it. Unfortunately, an oversight on my part was about to ruin the moment. It happened when, despite my gentle touch, my hand stumbled upon a thick dressing around Yvette's wounded leg.

  Yvette's reaction was instinctive. “Oww!” she wailed, cringing in pain and dropping the hand she'd buried in my hair right onto my wounded shoulder again. I joined her painful cry, grabbing my throbbing arm. We both winced and complained for the next few seconds, and then we laughed in unison. “I'm sorry!” she apologized again.

  “No, I'm sorry...” I trailed off, trying to snap out of the euphoric stupor I was in.

  “I guess it's not safe for us to be this close right now, huh?” she said, blushing.

  “I think you're right!” I laughed, stroking her head again.

  ***

  After our intense yet painful romantic encounter, Yvette and I decided to behave ourselves and just talk over a cup of coffee, which Yvette managed to make with one of those funny one-cup coffeemakers often found in motel rooms.

  We sat at a small round table near the window, where I decided to tell her about my horrific experience after the explosion. I emphasized that it could have been nothing but a nightmare, or a delusion caused by the explosion—hence the reason why I left out a few points from the conversation, like the fact that my evil counterpart had accused me of having feelings for Sarah. However, I did tell Yvette about the danger my dark twin had warned me about.

  We spoke for hours, about many things: Denali, Damian, Dr. Walker, and even Sarah. But mostly, we talked about us and our plans. Yvette was firmly convinced I was going to be okay, and that our real story was yet to be written. And though I didn't share her blind optimism, I was beginning to feel like there was, indeed, a light at the end of the tunnel. I decided to put away my negative thoughts and began to embrace a more positive frame of mind.

  I remember sensing Sarah's presence even before she even got out of the cab that had brought her back to the motel... and I have to admit that my mind not only alerted me of her approach, but jolted in happiness at the thought of having her near. This irrepressible feeling made me ponder again the words of my evil reflection. Could it be true? I asked myself. Could my gratefulness toward Sarah have developed into something more? If so, what was it—what was this feeling that brought guilt to my heart the moment I felt her? I knew it was more than friendship, but I couldn't allow it to be any more than that.

  I turned my eyes to Yvette, and realized that whatever this feeling was, it would never be able to compete with the love I felt for her. The thought of hurting her, if only with my thoughts, crushed my heart into a million pieces. Yet the truth couldn't be concealed by denial, and the truth was that Sarah's presence did bring a warm feeling to my heart. “Sarah's back,” I informed Yvette nonchalantly. She looked toward the door as the key turned in the lock and Sarah entered.

  “Hey, guys!” Sarah said as she came in, setting a pair of crutches against the wall. Then she turned back outside and picked up a bunch of shopping bags that she juggled through the door and set on my neatly-made bed.

  “What's all this?” Yvette asked, a smile on her face.

  “These are for you.” Sarah handed Yvette the pair of crutches. “I also got us new clothes”—her hands dug through the bags—”some toiletries, new bandages, pain medicine, an arm sling for Victor—oh! And, of course, some food!” She grabbed one of the bags and put it on the table. “I hope you guys like Chinese.”

  The smell that emerged with the steam was intoxicating. “Mmm!” Yvette beamed as she dug through the takeout boxes.

  “What about transportation?” I asked, concerned.

  Sarah pulled up a chair and put it in between Yvette and me, then grabbed an eggro
ll before she began. “It's all arranged,” she said, taking a big bite. “We're taking a six o'clock charter to Juneau tomorrow morning.” She paused to chew. “When we arrive, I'll call Sidney, my mentor. He'll tell us where to go from there.”

  “A charter?” I asked. “You mean a plane!? Can't we just take the ferry?”

  “No,” she said, annoyed. “It's a ten-hour ferry ride.”

  “And?” I urged.

  “And the plane only takes one, Victor!” she answered, confused. “Besides, the tickets are already paid for. And they're non-refundable.”

  Yvette grabbed my hand, noticing my sudden anxiety. “What's wrong, Baby?”

  “Nothing,” I lied unconvincingly.

  She closed her eyes then and tightened her grip on my hand, as if reading me with nothing but her touch...which was exactly what she was doing. “Aw, Victor,” she said wistfully, opening her eyes, an empathetic smile on those precious lips. “You needn't be worried about how high planes travel.”

  “Is this what this is all about?” Sarah jumped in with an amused smile. “Your acrophobia? Don't tell me you're afraid of flying, too.”

  I scowled, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  “You know about his fear of heights?” Yvette asked, almost suspiciously.

  Sarah let out a loud snort. “Yeah! Can you believe, with an army on our tail, he froze like a statue at the edge of a cliff? I had to push him off into the river!”

  “What?!” Yvette exclaimed, then joined Sarah in a fit of giggling.

  I crossed my arms and took turns scowling at them. “Well,” I said sarcastically, “I'm so glad my phobias amuse you both.”

  They laughed even harder.

  After a few moments, Yvette caught her breath and said, “I'm sorry, Baby,” trying unsuccessfully to suppress her laughter. “It's just cute, you know? You're so brave about everything else, and then...this. We're not laughing at you,” she assured me, doing her best to look serious now.