by David Nell
Jimmy: Elvis was sleeping when I went into the room. Vernon was sitting in a chair by the window just staring out. Without looking at me he simply said, "He licked that son of bitch dry." I responded, "Excuse me?" "That steak, he damn near licked a hole into it."
The meat in question was on a plate on E's dresser. It indeed looked like it had been licked upon and had a faded discolored look to it as a result of the blood being drained from it.
After seeing and hearing all that had gone on, I had decided to stay the night and slept on their living room couch. I awoke to the smell of fried bacon and eggs, and the sound of an elderly woman gently humming a hymn. Elvis had slept through the night with no more strange behavior or further symptoms of anything seriously wrong. In fact, he was awake before I was.
PS: Was there anything different about him?
Jimmy: Not at first. He was his usual polite self. He kidded me a little for my bed head and drooling on his couch while I slept. But nothing that was out of the ordinary.
It wasn't till he went into the kitchen and grabbed himself a piece of bacon, that I noticed the first indication that he had had a bad night.
When he bit into the strip of bacon, he hollered and spit it out. Said his tongue felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper. I went over to take a look, and as I got him under direct light, I could see the lacerations from the previous night's licking on the steak. He had managed to rub off the external layer on his tongue and now it appeared to be blistering. The whole time I was looking him over, he kept saying, "What the hell is going on Jimmy?"
I also noticed that the goose egg on his head from the night before was still acting mysteriously. When Elvis moved his head in a certain direction, the bump would appear, and then it would slide and hide when he moved his head back. His coloring, too, was a little off. He was not as pasty as the night before, but he was still a little pale. I guess I hadn't noticed some of these right away, as I was still groggy from a poor night's rest on a stiff sofa.
PS: What was your first response?
Jimmy: To try and not look too alarmed. I knew Minnie Mae and Vernon were still upset from the night before, and I did not want to give them more to worry about. I decided to keep my observations to myself, thinking I did not want them asking any questions that I could not answer. But between you and me...I was pretty scared.
Again, like with Corpsman Romero, I had to play it cool. I teased Elvis about eating a raw steak and how, if he took any more blows to the head, he would really end up acting like a Hound Dog instead of just singing about them. I ate breakfast with them, explained how trauma to the head is a serious matter and can cause all kinds of strange behavior. I wanted to give them a reason to feel better and was hoping that I could talk myself into believing that that was all it really was. The whole time Minnie was God blessing me, and saying what a good southern gentleman I was for spending the night with them.
I must have done a pretty good job of convincing them that E was all right. When I left, they were all looking more relaxed and back to their normal selves. I told Elvis I would notify his commanding officer that he would be out for a few days until his tongue healed and be back later to check on him. After that I stuck around for a few more minutes and then left.
PS: I am guessing that you went to Neville after you left the Presley house. What did he think of all that had transpired?
Jimmy: It was still fairly early, but I went straight to his house. When I got there, I raced into his house like a runaway freight train. It was the Major's house servant that met me inside and asked me if I wanted to wait for the Major in the study. I had been waiting for a few minutes when he walked in to see what had happened. He brought me a cup of coffee and asked me what was wrong. Starting from the beginning with the football game, I recreated the last 24 hours. When I finished the tale, I expected shock or some look of real concern. Instead, what I got was a puff of his smoke and a simple nodding of his head.
Here I was almost in a panic. Elvis was not only my friend and the biggest star in the world, but also the prize of our top-secret project that we had all been dedicated to for the past year and a half. I had just shared with the Major an incredible story that could jeopardize all of that, and how does he respond? Like I had just read him an interesting letter from Dear Abby. Lounging around in his pajamas and bathrobe, he walked over to his bureau drawer, offered me a cigarette and asked me to sit down. It was only then that he looked me in the eyes and said, "We have to talk."
Jimmy really lost it at this point in his story. He started to weep. I tried comforting him the best I could, but even when I offered a gesture of kindness, it was met with more of his belligerent behavior. He did not want my pity, but he did not feel the need to contain his grief either. I decided that this was probably a good place to stop for the day. It was getting late and I still had not eaten anything and Jimmy clearly needed some time alone.
As I was leaving and walking past one of the nurse's stations, all eyes were transfixed on the television screen – one more city had fallen. Tallahassee was now the twenty-third victim of this global serial killer. Where were the answers? When were the best and the brightest going to stand up and stop this pandemic? Then a realization hit me. I am not the most religious man, and I don't even know if I believe in God, but at that moment the only thing I felt like I could do was pray. Dinner was no longer an option that night. I had just lost my appetite.
Day 3: Misguided redemption
Getting up has never been harder.
The world is spinning out of control. People are dying at the hands of other people and the only way we seem to know how to stop it is to kill even more of them. Watching two more cities reduced to ash and dust in 24 hours are hard realizations to swallow. Candlelight vigils and colored ribbons are all becoming hopeless symbols of failure – reminders of an ongoing defeat in a war that seems to bringing on the end. I said a prayer last night as I lay in bed, hoping for some of the same kind of miracles from the same God who parted the Red Sea for Charlton Heston when he was being pursued by Yul Brynner in The 10 Commandments. But in their place, I awoke to the mixture of sirens, aroma of orange citrus and the noises of fornicating couples in the rooms next to mine.
Getting up has never been harder.
When I finally make it to Moncrieff Army Community Hospital, it is around 11 o'clock. The entire building is quiet. The typical sounds and automated noises that are part of the daily routine are watered down by the anticipation of a looming death. Everyone: doctors, nurses, staff, patients and their families, all seem to be just going through the motions and hoping to avoid the world that waits outside the doors at the end of the day.
For myself the only thing that seems to help me these days are the stories like Jimmy's. Tales that – even if unpleasant – allow me the opportunity to forget the reality of today. As a journalist, it is my hope that when completed, they help my readers to do the same.
I arrive at Jimmy's room and am greeted with a healthy dose of his brand of sickly curmudgeon that has been our only companion the past three days.
Jimmy: Glad you finally decided to get your ass out of bed.
PS: Sorry Jimmy, tough night.
Jimmy: I am sorry to hear that. You dying of cirrhosis of the liver, too?
I decided to ignore him the best I could, as I was in no mood to do this that day. I also tried to remember where he was at in life; lying in bed in a hospital with only a few weeks left at best. But then, as I looked out at the world around, maybe at best that's all any of us really had.
PS: Yesterday, we left off with the Major sitting you down. You were clearly upset about this both then and now. Do you think you are ready to finish your story?
Jimmy: I am sorry you had to witness that spectacle. I normally can keep it together as it is not a habit of mine to cry like a baby in front of other men. But to answer your question: yes, I am ready to finish, as I cannot stand the thought of one more day of packing this shit around in my consci
ence.
Yesterday, I told you that the Major had sat me down and told me everything. He had been holding out on me. Both the Major and Doctor Häussermann had been seeing results from the experiment for the past eight months. Before Neville went into the details, he tried reasoning with me, justifying why he had chosen not to share with me this information sooner. Both of them had seen how close I had been getting with Elvis, and they also knew I was supplying him with pills. They were worried that I would have a conflict of interest, a crisis of conscience, and would jeopardize the project.
I was fairly angry, but I did hear the validity of his words. I did feel like a member of Elvis's family. Besides Charlie Hodge, I was E's closest friend in Germany. Feeling sheepish, I decided I needed to hear him out and find out what the hell was going on.
PS: It does make sense...Neville's logic for excluding you. From what you have revealed to me at this point, you can easily see the bond you shared was strong.
Jimmy: You're right. It was strong. My personal pride, wanting to feel like I was adding something to a great cause for our country, making history, all while maintaining my relationship with Elvis...it was confusing, maybe even frustrating. It may have been why I started giving him pills to begin with, a way of dealing with the conflicting guilt.
It made me wonder though, the fact that they left me in the dark for so long. If Elvis had not had the bad night, how long would they have let this go on?
I don't know...
Jimmy still looked like he didn't quite know how to feel about what he was about to share. I could see the anger and the hurt, but I could also see glimmers of a deeper confusion or the wish to remain behind the veil of deceit that Major Neville had so carefully placed them under all those years ago.
PS: Can you tell me what followed?
Jimmy: The Major went into the details of the most recent findings of Methuselah. However he did not start with what they had observed from Elvis's blood work. He went back to the initial experiment with the chimps. Specifically with Donner.
PS: Donner? The cannibal chimp?
Jimmy: Yes. As I stated earlier, I had been out of the picture for quite a while at the lab. Working with Elvis and monitoring him took up most of my time. So what he shared with me was a real shock.
Apparently about a month after Elvis started receiving his doses of Endal, Donner had been exhibiting more strange behavior and changes in his physical condition. The gene therapy was working, but working too well. To start with, all his hair follicles lost all pigment. He went white overnight according to the Major. The chimp's skin had taken on a purple-grey hue and the overall appearance of it had a tight, viscous-like quality. Neville had best described it as being reminiscent of sausage casing, like it was only there holding in its contents. That his complexion was nearly translucent and the purple hue to his skin was the processed dead matter.
Endal was a success; it did as we all had hoped. It had the ability to stop aging, but in the process of mutating the host's cells, it nearly stopped everything else as well.
But it did not end there. Donner's craving for blood had only increased. He became violent in his wanting to eat all the time. They were feeding him raw, fresh meat around the clock. He had this newly acquired elastic skin, and he was taking in the nutrients, but not processing them like a normal creature. Simply put, he stopped shitting. He started to bloat, hence the Major's Jimmy Dean reference to Donner's skin condition.
PS: Why Blood? Your story makes two very distinct references to both Donner and Elvis wanting fresh meat and blood.
Jimmy: Okay, in real lay terms: the mutated tortoise cells transform the host's stem cells into a parasite body. Each cell now feeds off of the other cells until it runs out of fresh ones. The human body produces billions of new cells each day, but when we introduced a new player into the blood stream, we had halted the body's need to replace the dying cells that were being kept alive by the attached new ones.
We had successfully tricked the body into believing it did not need to create more new cells. The thing is over a prolonged period of time, when the body does not replicate or produce the needed cells, the host starts to slowly die. This is the result of the DNA being corrupted and no longer remembering how to replicate. This is where the parts of the brain that give us that sense of self-preservation kicks in. It is here where they get that craving for fresh meat, blood and the nutrients needed to survive, and the only way to get the needed cells is to collect them from others. What you see is the primal instincts of the mind taking over. Judgment and rational thought go right out the door.
PS: Wait a minute...Do you know what you just said? If I did not know any better, I would swear what you just described is almost exactly what we are witnessing in the world today. Are you telling me you are the ones responsible for the hell we are currently seeing?
Hearing his words instantly brought me from curiosity to righteous anger. Their misguided attempts to play God had led to the decay we were all experiencing that day. The blood of millions of lives was now on their hands. I wanted to kill the old bastard. I wanted to take a pillow and smother him to death. I had to leave –if I didn't – who knows what I might do to him. I needed a drink, so I left the room, the hospital and went to the nearest bar. I did not come back for a few hours.
After several rum and cokes, I decided to head back. I needed to hear the rest of the tale. I owed it to myself and the rest of the globe to find the silver lining. When I arrived back in the room, I had a definite buzz going on. And it allowed me to muster up the courage to tell Jimmy exactly how I felt. I did not mince words. What you read may not be the most professional story, but it is the reality of a man who is simply tired of living in a real-life horror film.
PS: Look, Jimmy, I need to say something and you need to listen...In my entire life I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you at this moment. Knowing that you have had a huge hand in creating hell on earth, that fact is forcing me to fight my every impulse not to hurt you in some way. If you weren't dying a slow, painful death, I would wish you were. I am angry, and I want answers.
So here's the deal: You are going to finish your story and you are going to give me and the rest of the world reason to have hope again. Also, if I hear any more sarcasm or any sort of indigent tone come out of your mouth like I have had to hear and put up with the past three days, I am simply going to smack the shit out of you...
Now please continue.
The look on Jimmy's face said it all. He knew I was angry and that I was serious on my threat to harm him. However, he did not appear surprised by any of it. I am almost positive that he was even expecting it once he shared with me that part of his story.
Jimmy: Now do you understand why I asked you here? The world, the refugees of this plague that is devouring the cities and towns at the hands of people we once knew and loved...I believe had its start with Project Methuselah and the injections of Endal into Elvis Presley.
But I need you to hear the rest of the story. If I end it here, it will sound as if the men who created this did nothing to stop it, and that is far from the truth.
I could see the validity of Jimmy's words through the windows of his eyes. It was as if his soul had leapt out screaming the truth that kept his conscience prisoner over all those years. Immediately, Jimmy's appearance had the look of less weight upon him, as if just admitting that part of the story had turned the pressure valve that had building up to that moment of his life.
Although I could see he felt better, it brought me no pleasure. My anger had prevented me from enjoying the moment that I had helped provide.
Jimmy: The Major realized that what we had created was far from the hope of creating an ageless soldier. In its place, we had created a science experiment gone wrong from the likes of the Saturday afternoon matinees. Donner had become a monster, but he was not the only one. The rest of the chimps had started displaying the various symptoms in different stages that he had seen in Donner.
He d
id have hope though. He and Dr. Häussermann had some ideas on where they went wrong. They both felt it was using the reptilian cells that had caused the change. Apparently, according to the Major, some reptiles have the ability to change their DNA structure over time to adapt to their environment, an evolutionary process that takes millions of years to develop. What they think they did was inadvertently trigger this ability in the host's cells when they injected them with Endal.
According to Major Neville, both he and the Doc believed they could reverse engineer this process and create a proper antidote. In fact, they were already doing the blood work to start this. They both thought that even though they could see the same changes developing in Elvis, they had more than enough time to create a vaccine that could cure E of the same thing that was happening to the chimps.
Then trying to lighten the mood and make me feel better, he joked that the Doc had been bit by Donner a couple of days ago – that he tried tricking him with a leg of lamb, so he could take his blood while he was distracted eating. Apparently, it didn't work. He laughed and said, "I guess he had a craving for German." Still chuckling, he said that he had never seen the old Kraut move so fast.
Major Neville kept saying everything was going to be all right; that Elvis was going to be okay. As he explained this and reassured me, I started to realize he was right. We did have all we needed to fix this problem. But the Major, sensing that I was still a little uptight, really wanted me to relax. He gave me another cigarette, had me use his shower and loaned me a clean set of clothes, all while his servant prepared a bite for us to eat. During our meal, he explained that once we were done, we were going to go to the lab and meet Häussermann, and get started right away on the solution. One thing he did stress, above all else, was that he wanted me to keep this quiet, to not give Elvis any impression under any circumstances that he was in danger. The less people knew the better, as we did not want this to fall into the wrong hands.