Human Superior

by C. S. Won

  “Break this door down!”

  The thumping resumed, more ferocious this time, the desk and bookcase rattling from the force. Jae checked to see if there was a fire escape that led to the streets below, but nothing of the sort presented itself. There weren’t even any ledges he could hold onto, or nooks in the brick where he could shove his fingers in if he attempted to scale down the building. Jae let loose a torrent of expletives, cursing his predicament, his bad luck, Morgan Duffy, Pax Logan, Edison, and most of all, his own stupidity.

  Another vicious bang, loud and thunderous, took him from his thoughts, and Jae turned to see the bookcase upended on the floor, with another large crack running vertically across the door. Another loud bang quickly followed, nearly pushing the desk away, and the crack began to split even further, wide enough to allow thin beams of light to spill through. Jae couldn’t see any faces on the other side, but he saw shadows shifting every which way, and he could hear the clarity in the voices that barked commands. He surmised that the door only had one or two more knocks left before it finally gave way, which meant time was running short and options running even shorter. He had to act now, and the only option he saw was to jump. From this height, he wasn’t sure what would happen. He had survived the jump from the dormitory fire with only rattled teeth, but here he was much higher with no sense of where the ground was, and he feared his legs might break, or even worse, his back or his neck.

  Just jump, damn it. You’re dead for sure if you stay. Take your chances with gravity.

  Jae stepped through the window, crouching in the open panel, and looked at the darkened street below, where it appeared as though the world was falling away from him. The sounds of a breach echoed behind him, and a flood of lights spilled in, brightening his back. Without checking to see who or what had broken through, Jae made his jump.

  “Who the hell . . . ?”

  It was all Jae heard before Newton’s law took hold. The ground rushed up to meet him at breakneck speed, the blackness of it expanding wider and wider like a great big mouth ready to swallow him whole. Howling wind filled his ears, drowning out the sound of his own hurried breath. The force of the drop was so great that it felt as though his guts were being pulled away from him. Suddenly, the darkness receded, scampering away to reveal concrete taking form in the abyss. He tried to curl himself into a squat, to ready himself for impact, but with so much force pushing and pulling against him, it was difficult to maneuver, even with all his strength.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  The ground exploded, the force of his landing discharging slabs of gravel everywhere like confetti at a parade. The impact sent charges running up and down his body, making his teeth clatter, his ears hum, and his vision waver. Exquisite pain burned his legs, from his ankles all the way to his thighs, and even higher than that. He fell forward onto his hands and let loose a ragged, bellowing gasp, grinding his teeth like he was trying to chew the pain away.

  “Someone get him!”

  Jae looked up and saw a darkened figure leaning out the window, pointing at him. Get up. You need to run. With a loud groan, Jae heaved back into a crouching position and conducted a quick examination of his body. Despite the shocking numbness that was beginning to take hold, nothing appeared to be broken or sprained. He forced himself to stand, finding the task difficult, although he wasn’t sure if that was because of the uneven crater he was standing in, or the pain stabbing at his legs. Maybe both.

  He stepped out of the crater, and from the corner of his eye he saw several shadows dancing against the wall of an alleyway close by; blackened figures, expanding and contracting as they loomed closer. They emitted growling sounds and other angry noises, throngs of men and women hungry to find the criminal that was last seen doing god knows what in their boss’s office. For a split second, Jae thought about standing his ground and explaining to the mob what had just happened, but he quickly realized that a frenzied mob was something one should not try to bargain with. They saw the blood on the floor, they saw that Daniel was gone, and they saw Jae jump out of the window, so he was guilty in their eyes of a horrific crime. End of story. No investigation needed.

  Jae turned and ran.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Answer the damn phone!”

  It was at least the eleventh time Jae had called Clay, only for it to end at his voicemail. Messages that were left were not returned. It took everything Jae had to not toss his phone out of his window out of sheer, burning frustration.

  A street sign warned Jae to lower his speed to forty-five. He glanced at his speedometer; he was going twice that. But he didn’t care. As long as Pax was in the same room as Clay and doing god knows what to him, Jae’s foot would remain firmly planted on the accelerator. If the police wanted to pull him over, then they were more than welcome to try, but he wasn't going to stop for them, not until he at least knew what had happened to Clay. Driving laws were the last thing he was worried about.

  How could I have been so stupid? With his frustration mounting, Jae slapped his steering wheel and nearly broke it in two. Hindsight often had an annoying habit of making people feel pretty stupid, and this was no exception. Clay had the right of it; common sense dictated that if a deal sounded too good to be true, then you decline the offer and walk away, no matter what. But Jae’s desperation had weakened his resolve, and an opportunity to end this city’s crisis was too tempting to pass up. The potential consequences mattered very little. Whatever they were, he figured he could deal with it when the time came. All that mattered was putting an end to the violence, and while he could technically say the violence has indeed ended, it ended in a way that Jae could not have imagined. Not with Daniel’s face obliterated.

  And worse yet, it wasn’t even over. Morgan apparently knew where Clay was all this time, and that only brought up the question as to why he didn’t bother to make his move against Clay until tonight. Why wait so long? What were they planning? Did it have something to do with Daniel’s death?

  Jae took his phone out and dialed in Clay’s number again. Straight to voicemail. He tried once more; same thing. “Shit!” The engine howled even louder as Jae flattened the accelerator, squeezing more speed from his car, or as much as it could give him. Too much time had passed since Morgan’s neo-humans had left for the hotel, and with each new minute that ticked away, the bad feeling in Jae’s gut grew heavier.

  His phone rang. Jae answered it, nearly fumbling it away in his haste. “Clay! Are you okay?”

  “Woah, what? Clay? You’ve got the wrong person, mister.”

  A woman’s voice. Rena? No, not her. This one was different, a voice that he couldn’t quite place, but before he could ask who this was, she answered it for him.

  “It’s me, Andrea.”

  It took another moment before recognition flickered. “Andrea?” Jae pulled the phone away and looked at the number listed. It was a number he didn’t recognize. “I . . . how did you get my number?”

  An embarrassed chuckle. “A couple of nights ago, after the bombing, when we were helping with aid and recovery, Gabe came up to me and just kind of handed me your number. He didn’t really say why. He just simply told me that you’d appreciate it. It was all a little weird, but . . . I’m sorry, I should have told you beforehand.”

  Jae closed his eyes. “I—shit.”

  “I’m sure this is all a surprise. I really should have told you. If you want to hang up—”

  “Sorry, no, it’s just—”

  “I’m sure I caught you at bad time.”

  “. . . Actually, yes, I guess you can say you did catch me at a bad time.”

  “I just wanted to know how things went. If I remember correctly, you said you were going to deal with Daniel tonight. Were you able to stop him?”

  Jae squeezed his eyes shut. “Daniel? Yeah . . . I guess, in a manner of speaking, you can say that. Listen, can I call you back?”

  “Did something go wrong?”

  Jae opened hi
s eyes. “I can’t explain right now. I just—” His words trailed off into silence.

  “Hello? Jae?”

  The neon glow of the hotel sign, red and green radiance burning against the night sky, emerged not too far away. As Jae drew closer into the parking lot, he saw the door to his hotel room ajar, with a faint block of light spilling out from the opening and into the outside world.

  “Oh god, no,” Jae said.

  “Jae? Is something wrong? What’s going on? Jae? Tell me what’s—”

  Andrea’s consternations were rendered into soft, garbled noises as the phone slipped from Jae’s hand and clattered on the floorboard near his feet. Jae let the car running as he got out and ran to his hotel room. When he pushed the door open, the hinges squeaking as it gave way to a wider berth, the blackest of shadows encased the interior, with the only light coming from the bright, moving images of the TV. He took a step forward into the darkness and fumbled for a light switch, fingers grazing against the wall.

  “Clay?” Jae called out. He found the switch, and a dull light filled the room. His heart sank.

  Blood covered the walls, smeared from one end to the next in wide, uneven, opaque crimson sweeps. Jae took another step forward, and found the floors were also painted in a canvas of blood, his shoes nearly sticking to the carpentry as it squished in warm, dark, red fluid.

  “Clay?”

  The signs of an obvious struggle adorned the room. The couch in the furthest corner was broken in half, wood and cotton jutting out from its insides. What once remained of the coffee table near the TV was now shattered into a million small pieces, the remains of it strewn everywhere like hay needles. An open suitcase sat askew on one of the beds, with unfolded, wrinkled clothes hanging out over the edges. Craters pockmarked the walls, many of them large and deep, with jagged cracks streaking out in all directions. Only the TV remained untouched, an anchorman’s commentary filling in the silence.

  “Clay! Marlowe! Answer me!”

  Jae moved among the wreckage, stepping around debris, the soles of his shoes kissed with a coating of red. He looked at the ground and noticed a pathway of blood starting from the base of one of the beds and traveling all the way into the bathroom—as if a body was being dragged. Ignoring the sourness churning in his stomach, Jae followed the bloody trail into the bathroom, and just across the threshold of the bathroom’s entrance, he saw spent shell casings littering the floor. Near that, a gun—Clay’s gun—was lying astray, mangled into an unrecognizable shape. The blood trail continued past that, and it led to Clay hunched over the bathtub, his entire body painted head to toe in a thick coating of blood. All around him, his life’s essence decorated the ceiling and walls in an aggressive pattern, as if a painter had taken his blood and splattered it everywhere in an attempt to conceive art.

  Jae tried to take a step forward, but instead he fell backwards against the wall, the cold plaster smacking the back of his head, numbness taking hold. He felt a painful but familiar sense of anger, fear, and regret seizing him, the sort of pain he had become all too accustomed to since Madeline’s death, grabbing him right in the guts and refusing to let go. Oath after oath had been sworn, promises whispered as he lay awake through many sleepless nights, pledging that he would never let anyone get hurt again on his watch, not after what happened to Madeline, but time and time again he’d shown that he’d had difficultly upholding that oath, always a step behind and always the laggard, never around when he was needed the most.

  Crawling on his hands and knees, and smearing blood all over himself, Jae made his way over to Clay and gently turned him over. His body was not cold, but also not warm. Just mute, like charcoal waiting to be burned. Clay’s face was battered and bruised, eyes swollen shut, nose broken, teeth missing. Several cut marks defaced his cheeks and forehead, some shallow, others deep, all bloody. Similar wounds were also present on his arms, and upon closer inspection, the skin on his fingertips and knuckles were bloodied and worn off, indicating that he tried to fight back against his assailants. Jae lifted Clay’s head slightly and placed two shaking fingers on his neck, mouth wrenched tight as he waited for the bad news that he was sure to come, but much to his surprise—and overwhelming relief—a soft beat thumped against his fingers, albeit slowly and inconsistently. Clay was alive, but barely so.

  But why didn’t Clay turn invisible? Was he just slow to react? Was he confused by what was happening?

  Marlowe. Jae set Clay down and ran out of the bathroom, hoping by some miracle that Marlowe would suddenly be standing right in the middle of their hotel room, but he saw only the same bloody scene. He checked the closet but found nothing. He looked underneath the beds but saw nothing. He ran outside into the night, hoping to maybe find Marlowe wandering around in a daze, but not a soul lingered. Jae went back inside, panic gripping him, and he leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, staring at Clay’s barely functioning body. He remembered the order Edison had given to Rena, to kidnap the boy, but Jae had hoped that maybe it was just a ruse, and that they wouldn’t go as low as to abduct a defenseless young child.

  I’m such a fool.

  “Like what we did with the place?”

  Jae turned and saw Pax, Rena, and Dmitri standing just inside the entrance of the hotel room, looking pristine against a backdrop of slaughter. Pax, with his arms crossed, had a smug, satisfied look on his face. Dmitri took a seat at the corner of one of the beds, all quiet and stealth-like. Rena kicked away a broken table leg.

  “I didn’t think you’d make it out after we abandoned you to Daniel’s men. Quite the feat I must say, considering he had some real killers in his rank.” Pax began clapping. “Bravo.”

  “It takes the three of you just to hurt one man, you spineless, gutless cowards?” Jae asked.

  “Oh, you got me. You really know how to hurt a girl’s feelings, don’t you?” Pax clutched at his chest, feigning heartbreak. “He may not look like much, but Clay was dangerous. He had a few things in his possession that he shouldn’t have had, things that kept my employer tossing and turning at night. So yes, in a way, it did the take the three of us to do this job, thank you very much. And speaking of which.” Pax took out a folder and handed it to Rena, who inserted it in her jacket. It was the same folder Clay had that contained evidence of government-sanctioned neo-human experiments.

  “You think he didn’t make copies of that?” Jae asked.

  “Of course he did. That’s why we’re going to take him back with us, then stuff him in a dark, wet room no bigger than a broom closet. Once the good doctor here heals him up—” Pax jutted a thumb at Dmitri. “—we’re going to reacquaint ourselves until he tells us where he kept his copies and who he gave them to.”

  “You’re not taking him anywhere.”

  “Ohhh, tough talk. I like that. Pretty funny coming from a guy like you. But you want to know what’s really funny? The fact that you’re going to such great lengths to protect a liar.”

  Jae furrowed his brow. “Liar? What are you talking about?”

  Pax smiled. “Let me show you something.” He went over to one side of the wall and ripped off the wallpaper. There, he revealed a small black dot about the size of a thumbtack, buried into the plaster. Jae stared at that black dot, and the implications of it felt like someone had just kicked him in the gut.

  “We heard everything—all the little things Clay never told you, or outright lied about,” Pax said.

  Jae said nothing. He only continued to stare at that small black dot.

  “I mean, damn, it almost made me feel bad knowing that he was deceiving you like this, while you acted as the gracious host and provided him with home and hearth. I don’t know about you, but in my line of work we’d call that ungrateful.”

  “You had us bugged the entire time?” Jae asked, although he knew the answer was obvious.

  Pax pointed a finger at him. “Bingo. You see, this is why they say Asians are smart.”

  “No. This is bullshit. You’re playing one of
your games here. Why would Clay lie to me? What would he even lie about?”

  The smile on Pax’s face grew wider. “How about the fact that he was already in contact with your brother, and that he could have taken you to him at any time?”

  “He . . . what?”

  “Where do you think your best friend was running off to when you weren’t around?”

  Jae fumbled for an answer. “He was . . . meeting with his sources, to gather intel on Han and Daniel’s whereabouts.”

  “His sources?” Pax laughed. “That’s a good one. No, he was meeting up with your big bro, probably talking about how stupid you are.” Pax paused to laugh again. “It’d be tragic if it wasn’t so funny. You’ve been looking for your dear old brother for such a long time, then suddenly here comes a guy who could have taken you to him at any time, but he doesn’t. Why do you think that is?”

  Jae didn’t say anything.

  “Because . . .” Pax paused. He looked contemplative. “Nah, I won’t tell you. It’s more fun seeing you squirm.”

  “I don’t believe you.” It was all Jae could think of to say, but there was no strength in his rebuttal, because the sick feeling in his stomach told him that Pax spoke the truth. The conviction in which he said it convinced Jae that he had no reason to lie about this.

  “It’s all so ironic if you think about it though, because Clay asked you to trust him, then he promptly deceives you. So in the end, he pretty much used you like a condom, and he had the gall to call himself your friend. What sort of friend does that?”

  “I don’t believe you!” Jae said again, louder this time, although he still lacked any strength behind it. Anyone with enough sense would know that it wasn’t Pax he didn’t believe, but rather himself.

  “You should be thanking me. I pummeled the liar who lived under your roof. I’m more of a friend to you than he ever was.” Pax shrugged. “But we’re not friends and that’s okay, because it means I get to tie up this loose little end with no regrets.” He turned to Rena. “You took care of the teleporter, right?”