by Hanks, Greg
A soft crunch came from the other side of the couch. Rich, authentic adrenaline started to steadily flow again. In my sorry state, I could still feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. A piece of debris slid across the floor.
My rifle was too far away for me to grab. I was lying on my back, still clutching my arm. There was no way I would have the strength to do anything. I didn’t want Tara to figure out my secret, but I sure as hell didn’t want to die.
Damn it, Bollis! What were they doing up there?!
All of the sudden, large hands gripped my collar from behind and pulled me away from the couch. I squirmed, but it was a pathetic attempt.
“You bastards’re really somethin’, aren’t you?” growled a deep, male voice. The hands on my shirt gripped tighter as he raised me off the ground. He hurled me toward the middle of the commons and I hit the hardwood floor with a nasty thud.
I was in a murky daze. I honestly could not feel any other pain besides the regular surge of needles that rose up my arm every second. I rolled over and tried to gather myself.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” asked the soldier, stepping closer to me.
I was able to push myself onto my knees, shaking my head to rid my eyes of their cloudiness.
He clomped up to me and drove his boot into my ribs, flipping me over onto my back. As I gasped for air, he overshadowed me. I could only make out a thick outline, his helmet removed. I was coming in and out of consciousness, wishing he would just end it. The pain from my addiction was far worse than anything he could do anyways.
“I don’t know why you were so important,” said the soldier. “Or why my whole team—” he landed another kick to my ribs. This time I felt something crack. “—had to die because of you.”
I gasped for air and tried to hold on to one last thought.
“Pathetic,” the soldier finished, and withdrew a thick knife from his side. He held it in his hand, looking down upon me with hatred. He spit on the ground and wiped blood from his mouth. Finally, he raised his hand and brought the knife down.
I focused my vision as two holes broke open on the soldier, one in the neck and the other in the belly. His blood spilled over me, and he fell to the side, his knife clanking against the floor.
“Mark!” shouted a ghostly voice. Bodies started to surround me, but I was so cold and demolished that I couldn’t make sense of anything anymore. I started to fade into complete blackness.
26
“Where are you going?!”
The female voice spoke above me, but I couldn’t see anything. I was surrounded by pain and tar. It was constant, with no breaks or relief. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I was thinking. I was alive.
More muffled voices spoke around me.
“He’s not going to live if we stay here,” said a male voice, further away.
“Mark,” continued the female, “can you hear me?”
Yes, I could hear her. For some reason, I couldn’t speak.
“We need to bring him in here,” said the male, “hurry!”
I fell into another gaping abyss. I was being sucked into a giant vacuum. Then I was awake again. Still, I couldn’t see anything. This time I was somewhere else. My surroundings were colder, and I felt like I was lying upon a flat surface.
“Look,” said the familiar male voice, “once I get this thing moving, I can explain everything.”
“This thing?” said the female. “What thing?”
“You don’t have anything that can help him?” said a third voice, much younger. “I mean, I can always try to fix it.”
“No . . .” said the older male, extremely hesitant at the request, “let me handle this. I do have something, but it could do more bad than good.”
“We have to try!” said the female.
The voices became muddled and silence ensued. I knew the voices, but for some reason my mind wouldn’t register their names. I could also perceive my pain, but it was dulled, almost as if a thick cocoon encased me.
“Hold him,” said the older male.
A long period of reverberating noises began. My mind flashed white, and then became black once more.
“How long do you think this will give him?” asked the female.
I felt pressure on my upper body. Warmth invaded my core and rushed to my legs.
“I’m not sure,” said the older male. “But here we go.”
An icicle drove itself into my thigh. I felt the chill of winter rising through my groin, and into my stomach. I shook and squirmed. In a blast of light, I opened my eyes.
Expecting to see the owners of the voices, I was astonished to find something far different. I was sitting in a vast field of brightly colored flowers. They expanded as far as I could see, grouping together like a yellow blanket. I looked around, trying to find some shred of reality.
Behind me, a colossal tree stood like a majestic monument. It was the only thing for miles. Its branches extended hundreds of feet from the trunk, home to thousands upon thousands of golden, shimmering leaves. The magnificent tree stood upon a gentle knoll, with vivid, green grass rimming the base of the trunk.
As my eyes focused on the bottom of the tree, I noticed a person standing in the shade. All of it was completely absurd . . . but it felt real. Maybe it was real. Feeling lightheaded, I started to trudge through the knee-high flowers. I let my fingers dance across the tops of the petals. A soothing wind brushed my bubbling skin. When I came closer, I realized that I was approaching a woman.
Her chestnut hair fell to her shoulders, perfectly straightened. Her blouse, pants, and sandals emanated a white essence, making my eyes hurt as I looked upon her. Her back was turned to me, but there was something I knew about this woman. Something familiar drew me to her, like a faint memory.
I cleared the flowers and stepped on the freshly cut grass. I felt wobbly as I stood there, ten feet away from the strange woman. The tree above us moaned and creaked in the wind. A few leaves fell between us.
“You seem sleepy,” said the woman in a charming manner. I thought I heard her laugh a little.
“Who are you?” I asked. My tongue felt sticky and heavy; it was hard to speak. Still, she kept her back to me.
“Are you ready?” she said, in her gentle voice.
“R-Ready? Ready for what?”
She started to walk forward, gliding closer to the trunk. She wasn’t stopping so I followed her, keeping my distance. We approached the crest of the hill.
“Please,” I tried, “tell me who you are. Where am I?”
She stopped at the top, looking upon the other side.
“I didn’t want this for you,” she said. “You can’t give up, though. Especially now.”
I inched closer to her, curious as to what she was seeing. I knew what she was talking about, though. I couldn’t visualize it at the moment, but it all made sense.
“I’m . . . afraid,” I said.
“I know,” she responded, as gently as a drifting cloud, “but that’s what will make you stronger. Others are counting on you. More people than you realize.”
I couldn’t take it any longer, so I used the rest of my energy to make my way to her side.
“Remember to breathe,” she said, as I came above the crest.
My eyes widened as I viewed the breathtaking scenery. Miles away, a giant basin of water lied before us. Massive waterfalls lined the basin, continuously emptying their contents. The hill we were upon was part of the basin’s edge, dropping down hundreds of feet. I took a few steps back, careful to keep my balance.
Then I turned to see the woman.
“Mark,” she said, raising her voice. “Breathe. Mark, breathe!”
Before I could make another move, she slammed her hands into my chest and shoved me off of the cliff. It seemed like I was moving in slow motion, falling backwards into the monumental gorge. My horror and confusion could be seen across my face as I looked into the eyes of my own mother.
“Mark! You’re o
kay!”
My eyes opened once again, but this time I was staring into the face of Tara Tracer. She looked gaunt, but happy. I lapped up the fresh air, feeling like I had been drowning.
“What happened?” I asked. Nausea started to creep upon me and I felt the silver dagger of my broken rib.
“You tell us,” said Justin with a bite of sarcasm.
I furrowed my brow at him, but then I remembered. My arm. My addiction. I sighed and noticed my weakness. I could barely lift a muscle.
“Just try to relax,” Tara said.
“How are you feeling?” asked Bollis, dropping the subject.
“I . . . where are we?” I said, starting to notice our surroundings.
“Remember that old ‘garage door’ in the back of the commons?” Bollis quizzed. “Well, we’re inside it.”
I was propped up against a cold, metallic wall, inside a well-lit, decently sized room. Nothing else occupied the interior except the four of us, and some kind of metal box attached to the adjacent wall. The surfaces and lights were all made from advanced materials, convex surfaces protruding from four sections. Things looked newer, cleaner, and intertwined with 2030 technology.
“This place,” I wheezed, “is different. What’s going on?”
“I’ll fill you in once you let me know how you’re feeling,” he retorted, crouching to my level.
“I’m fine,” I said. I was so annoyed at how things had turned out. I guess I was glad to be alive.
“Have you . . . seen anything? Any hallucinations?”
I stared back at him. Hallucinations?
The field of flowers.
The giant tree.
My mother.
“I don’t know,” I said sheepishly, truly confused.
Bollis glanced at Tara and sighed. “Look, I’ve put something called Amorphate into your bloodstream. It will help, but only temporarily. It sometimes causes weird side effects, like hallucinations.”
“Thank you,” I managed to say in between breaths. I caught his eye, and knew that he was definitely aware of what happened. Tara wasn’t saying anything about it, so I figured he had kept it to himself. I was thankful for that.
Tara looked back to Bollis and asked, “Well, don’t we need to get him somewhere then?”
Bollis shifted his attention between the two of us. He stepped away and sighed before saying, “I think we need to talk first.”
27
The look of bewilderment on Tara’s face was photo worthy. Bollis had just finished telling the three of us about the dark and dirty side of GenoTec. It was the same story he told me. Only this time, I backed him up.
“It makes sense . . .” said Tara under her breath.
Justin didn’t look affected as he sat cross-legged. The only look he wore was one of contemplation.
Bollis sighed, “I wish it were different. It’s completely screwed up.”
“Well, now we know who’s behind all this!” shouted Justin with a lustful grin. He started mumbling to himself.
“What else have they done, Bollis?” I asked sordidly.
He shook his head. “More than I can say,” he said. “And a lot more that we don’t know.”
I paused for moment.
We?
Justin caught it too and asked, “Who’s ‘we?’ You holdin’ out on us, Balls?”
After a moment of silence, Bollis nodded, ready to unleash a pocket of information. “Genesis. I work with an organization called Genesis.”
“Organization?” asked Tara, dubiously.
Bollis maintained eye contact and said, “We aren’t exactly . . . public.”
“Sick!” exclaimed Justin, running around Bollis for no reason. “That means more guns n’ ‘splosives n’ stuff! Ha! GenoTec don’t even stand a chance!” He donned his blue goggles this time and gave us all a huge mischievous grin.
“Well . . .” began Bollis.
I narrowed my eyes. It made sense. Bollis’ outfit. His skill with explosives and weapons.
But what did Tara and I have to do with any of it? That was the number one question of the week. I think I would have given my legs for the answer.
A noise from outside interrupted our discussion. Bollis quickly rounded our huddled mass and stood a few feet away from the giant door. He waited.
“Is it—” said Tara, before being silenced by Bollis’ hand.
The three of us got to our feet.
Another noise penetrated the steel door. Bollis whipped around and said, “Listen, I’m sorry it has to be like this, but right now, you three have to make a choice.”
We were glued to his face.
“I wish I had time to explain everything,” he said promptly, “but there are people outside who want nothing more than to kill you. They won’t stop until you’re dead. I’m here to offer you a way out of this mess. I won’t force you, but if you come with me, you can have a chance to make a difference. You have to decide now.”
Tara gave me a look of astonishment. I stepped closer to Bollis, feeling reluctant about taking the next road.
“Bollis,” I said, “why did you come for us?”
“Mark, please, we don’t have—”
“Tell us why we’re here!”
He looked at me, sighed, and said, “I don’t know.”
Voices could be heard inside the commons.
“GenoTec obviously wants something from you two. We needed to figure out why.”
Did he actually know anything?
“What happens if we come with you?” said Tara. There was a tone of submission in her voice. I already knew she had decided.
“All I know is you’ll be safe,” he said. He readied his weapon. “It’s now or never.”
The tension was supreme. I couldn’t think straight. The recent attack on my body had drained all of my strength. I was surprised to have been standing for this long.
“Mark,” said Tara, breaking me from my spell, “all this time we’ve been running from our problems. This is our chance to figure everything out. This is our only way to fight back. I hate how things have turned out, but I’m not going to die knowing I could have found the answer.” Her blue eyes were dark and serious.
Maybe it was the tired, broken soul inside of me that agreed with her. Or maybe it was the fact that if I didn’t go with Bollis, I’d die. Honestly, I don’t think that either of those things were the case. It was the surging rage inside of me that wanted nothing more than to get even with GenoTec. That was the one truth that I could agree on.
“How are we supposed to go anywhere with them out there?” I said, sparking a rather vulgar, but happy response from Justin and an appreciative look from Tara.
Bollis smiled and said, “I’m not all out of surprises yet.”
He threw his rifle around his back and went to open the small box on the adjacent wall. As soon as he pressed a few holographic glyphs, the room shook, making me fall into Tara. She caught me just as the room started to move—diagonally.
“Whoooo!” exclaimed Justin. He proceeded to bend over, showing his butt to the door and said, “Y’see this, GenoTec?!”
As the room lurched away from the commons, a thick piece of metal slid down from the ceiling, covering the door. If the metal-heads opened it up, they would only see a wall.
“Where are we going?” I asked, beginning to feel drowsy again.
Bollis took in the moment before he said, “To the Underbed.”
PART
2
THE PROTOTYPES
28
Erin Hansen tapped across the cold marble in her three-inch pumps. They were cherry red, matching her black pencil skirt and pink blouse. She wore thick black glasses that seemed almost too big for her, but accentuated her bright blue eyes. Attached to her bosom was a clearance card, showing a picture of her smiling face.
She ignored the groups of people lingering in the lobby and pressed on to the information desk.
“Hello,” she said with a wispy voice, “m
y name is Erin Hansen, I’m the Volunteer replacement for Geno Security.”
The woman at the desk peered up at Erin with a confused look. “I didn’t know we had a replacement scheduled for GS—”
“If you could check, I’m sure you’ll find me,” said Erin, with a broad smile.
The dark-haired Volunteer searched her computer’s interface, a bright orange, see-through touch screen. After flipping through a few yellow squares, the Volunteer pulled up a big window plastered with Erin’s face.
The woman made a soft noise and said, “All right, I guess you’re good to go. Just step through security and find Aural by the elevators. He’ll tell you where you need to go.”
“Thank you,” said Erin, stepping through the security machine and passing her first obstacle without a flinch.
Two giant staircases rose on either side of her and four elevators lined the back wall. In the middle of the elevators, a strange looking person stood on a small pedestal awaiting her arrival. As Erin approached, she noticed that it wasn’t a person at all. It was a shiny, faceless statue, completely covered in chrome. A bluish hologram materialized over the face, coming together like sand particles. The blue element formed into a handsome male and smiled.
“Hello, I am Aural, how may I help you?” he said.
“I’m looking for Geno Security.”
“Ah,” said Aural, “level four. Your elevator awaits.”
“Thank you, Aural.”
“Enjoy your stay at GenoTec’s Manahattan Branch,” he said, as the elevator closed.
Erin exited onto the fourth floor; her heart didn’t skip a beat. She was calm, determined, and stoic. This was her chance to prove herself to everyone.
She walked to another kiosk with the words “Geno Security” hanging above.
“You must be the new one,” said a thin man with receding hair. He sprang from behind the desk and rushed to greet her. “Are you ready to jump into things?”
“Absolutely,” said Erin.
“My name’s Harvey,” he said, handing her a portfolio filled with papers. They exchanged greetings and he led Erin to the very end of a row of cubicles, packed with busily working Volunteers.