by C. S. Won
It was then that Clay finally noticed Jae for the first time. “Jae? When did you—? My god, what did they do to you?”
Jae tried to talk, but the pain seething in his jaw nixed the idea. He motioned to his mouth, but it appeared Clay didn’t understand what he was gesturing about.
“They broke his jaw,” Tobin said. “But our friend here will make things right.” He nudged Dmitri’s head with his foot. “Won’t you?”
“We’re going to hunt you down to the ends of the earth, scum. You won’t be able to hide from us. We’ll find you again and dig you out of your little hiding places. Mr. Duffy will make sure of that,” Dmitri said.
Tobin rammed his foot into Dmitri’s stomach, folding him over, then grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck. Taking the knife, Tobin placed the point of it just underneath Dmitri’s chin. “Fix him.”
“Stop! Stop it!”
Tobin shoved Dmitri back into Jae. Grimacing, Dmitri placed a hand on Jae’s shoulder, and immediately strange, painful sensations surged through his body, the mending process of flesh and bone refortifying itself in a contracted process. He felt his jawbone shifting and reattaching itself into proper alignment, as if invisible hands were moving it back in place, and the growth of new teeth squeezing through his gums, replacing the old ones that were punched out.
“There, I’m done. Finished,” Dmitri said.
Jae sat up, amazed. Nothing thumped with even the slightest suggestion of pain. He was a new man, repaired and revitalized. A quick examination of his body confirmed that his wounds were truly gone. He touched his jaw, moving it around. Good as new.
Jae looked at Dmitri, but before he could say anything, Tobin grabbed Dmitri by the collar once more and dragged him over to Andrea’s unconscious body. The same threats were made, and Dmitri dutifully complied, the knife perilously close to his throat. Once hands were placed and the miracle started, Andrea awoke with a shudder and a tremble, rising up slowly.
“Where am I?” Andrea shook her head and took a look around. When she saw Tobin, she let out a surprised gasp and shuffled backwards away from him. “Who are you?” The first sparks of electricity danced around her fingers.
“It’s okay. He’s a friend.” Clay went over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, startled by his touch.
“Who . . . ? Wait, I remember you. You’re Jae’s friend.” Andrea then saw Jae. “Jae? I—” She looked around the room again. “Wait a second. This is . . . your hotel?” She rubbed her head. “No, that’s right, I remember now. I came over here to check up on you because of that strange phone call we had, and when I arrived, there was this big guy standing over you, and I had—” She pinched two fingers onto the bridge of her nose, trying to remember. She touched the back of her head, almost reflexively.
“Those people are gone now, and we need to be gone too. The police could be here any minute now,” Tobin said.
“Wait, who are you again?” Andrea asked.
“My name is Tobin. I’m a friend of Clay’s. I’ll tell you more once we get out of here. But before we do, there’s something I need to take care of first.” Tobin wrapped an arm around Dmitri’s throat, surprising him.
“What are you doing?” Dmitri struggled to break free.
“You’re too dangerous, more dangerous than the rest of us. You need to be gone.” Tobin shoved the knife into Dmitri’s gut, all the way to the hilt. Dmitri grunted, blood sputtering from his lips, and he stared wide-eyed at the leather grip sticking out of his stomach. A murky red blot was already forming where the blade was inserted, and like an oil spill it was quickly growing bigger and bigger, threatening to paint the entirety of his shirt a dark crimson.
Lips quivering in disbelief and pain, Dmitri looked at Tobin. “But I did what you asked.”
“You’ll survive. Maybe,” Tobin said.
They were gone, suddenly scrubbed away from existence. Silence followed their departure, and the three who still remained exchanged glances with one another.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” Andrea asked.
“How did you know where I was staying, Andrea?” Jae asked.
“I called Gabe to ask him where you were staying. I was worried because of how . . . terrified you sounded over the phone.”
Clay looked relieved. “I’m glad you came when you did. They would have finished us off if you hadn’t.”
“Clay,” Jae said.
“I have to thank you too. If you hadn’t arrived, then I don’t know what—”
“Did you lie to me?”
A long pause.
“I’m sorry. What?” Clay finally asked.
“Were you already in contact with my brother?” Jae asked.
Clay opened his mouth to speak but said nothing. The color drained from his face. His eyes went wide with shock.
“When we first met, you told me that you hadn’t seen my brother in months. Was that a lie? Were you already in contact with him?” Jae asked.
“I . . . wait, listen—”
“You came to me for protection. You told me that if I protected you, you would help me track my brother down so that I can finally see him again. But you already knew where he was, and for whatever reason, never told me. Why?”
“Jae, what’s going on?” Andrea asked.
“How . . .” Clay looked too stunned to form a complete, coherent sentence.
Anger erupted in Jae’s chest. “How? How about why? Why the hell did you lie to me? Why did you string me along?”
A slight breeze rustled through the room, and in an unoccupied space, Tobin reformed back into reality.
“He shouldn’t be bothering us anymore,” Tobin said.
Still looking very confused, Andrea turned to look at him. “How did you just disappear with that guy? What did you do? Where did you go?”
“I’m a teleporter. I’m able to go wherever I please, and I just went to the moon.”
“. . . I’m sorry, what?”
“Dmitri—the healer—is an X-factor in the truest sense of the word. As long as he is around, the enemy will always have a chance. The only way to ensure he cannot do anything against us anymore is to bury him somewhere far away. So I took him to the moon, where no one will ever find him.” Tobin turned to Jae and stuck his hand out in a handshake gesture. “It is finally good to meet you, Mr. Yeon. My name is Tobin Aiono. I’m sorry we could not meet under more formal conditions.”
Jae stared at the hand but didn’t take it. “You work for my brother?”
“I am an associate of his, yes.”
Jae pointed at Clay. “And you know who he is?”
“He worked with Han. I acted as a liaison between the two.”
“Then are you part of this lie too?”
Tobin lowered his hand.
“Were you working with Clay to deceive me about my brother?”
Tobin put his hands in his pockets and took in a deep breath. “Yes, because I was the one who arranged that lie.”
“You did what?”
Tobin put his hand out. “Come with me. I’ll take all of us to a safe place. Once we regroup, I will tell you everything.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Tobin pressed his lips in, looking apologetic. “It was a grave miscalculation on our part to not tell you everything from the start. We were too cautious, and regrettably, too distrustful. We wanted to observe you for a time before we brought you into the fold, to make sure that we could trust you, but we played it safe for too long, and now we’re paying a terrible price for our lack of action. It’s a mistake I wish I could take away, but I promise, that as long as you come with me, I will tell you everything you want to know.”
“You didn’t trust me? Even though I am the brother of the man you work for? What exactly about me made me distrustful?”
“Jae,” Andrea said.
“You know what this is doing? It’s making me not
trust you or Clay. Funny how that works, right? Why should I believe a single word either of you are saying?” Jae asked.
“Jae,” Andrea said again, tugging at Jae’s sleeve.
“What is it?” Jae asked, turning to her.
“You need to see this.” She gestured at the TV, which had somehow survived the chaos. The TV was broadcasting a live look-in of Morgan Duffy standing behind a podium covered with microphones. A large crowd of people was gathered before him. Here and there voices shouted out, urging the murder of all neo-humans, while others shouted random obscenities and vulgarities at their disgust for them.
“What the hell is this?” Jae asked.
Morgan’s face shone red with tears. Although his words were subdued and soft, a reversal of his usual showy behavior, the speech he was giving stirred those who hung on to his every word, their hands clutched together against their chests. A heavy fist occasionally came down onto the podium, causing it to rattle, a stern gesture to emphasize a point Morgan was trying to make.
“We are not safe, and we never will be, not as long as these neo-humans continue to walk among us. They are all evil, and they want nothing more than to kill us all.” Morgan swept the crowd with his finger to indicate who the neo-humans wanted to kill. “When some delusional fool tries to tell you about the existence of a good neo-human, call them a liar. Tell them no such thing exists. It’s fake. All fake!”
“Fuck neo-humans!” someone shouted.
“But if even by some miracle a good neo-human actually does exist, does it even matter? The power they wield will eventually corrupt them. It is inevitable, and I will prove it.”
Jae took a step closer to the TV.
“Tonight, my son was murdered by one of these so-called ‘good’ neo-humans. This man—no, monster—was a highly decorated, celebrated hero, who at one point used to dedicate his life to saving others. But even he was not immune to the rot that took over. It trimmed away all that was good about him, and left behind a man that was threadbare, hollow, and brimming with ill-intent. Some of you may even know who this man is, as he often had a habit of being in the news. His name is Jae Yeon, one of Atlanta’s most respected citizens, and now . . .” Morgan paused to wipe away a tear. “He killed my son.”
“No.” Jae knelt before the TV. “That’s a lie.”
“He killed my son!” Morgan pounded the podium. A man from the audience rose up and demanded to see what this Jae Yeon had done, and Morgan obliged, taking out a photograph and holding it up to the lights. The cameras zoomed onto it, and it showed Daniel, his face destroyed, lying on a metallic slab. Audible gasps swept the crowd.
“My own flesh and blood, my legacy, my gift to the world, killed by a supposed ‘good’ neo-human, a man many thought was a hero. Jae Yeon killed my dear, beloved son because he refused to kneel to his terrifying power, and he paid the ultimate price for it. Jae Yeon is a man hell bent on exerting his will, and my son resisted. He resisted!” Morgan’s voice boomed. He put the photo away and lowered his head, taking a moment to wipe away more tears. “And to add insult to injury, we’ve received evidence that Jae Yeon was the man responsible for the attacks on both Atlanta and Chicago. I was told not to show this, but I don’t care. Put me in jail if you must. The people must know.”
Grainy security footage was shown, with a line going right down the middle to show two different areas at two different times. Both areas appeared to look like some sort of maintenance room, with heavy machinery, dim lights, and other large industrial equipment. A figure emerged in both portraits, his back against the camera, and a bag hanging over his shoulder. It showed the person punching a hole in some dark, obscure corner of the room in both portraits, then inserting the bag into the hole. When he was finished, he did his best to cover it up, then walked back from where he came. The footage paused, and on both sides, it showed a clear image of Jae’s face as he looked briefly up at the camera.
“That wasn’t me. I didn’t bomb those buildings. It was your son who did that. Your son, you lying scumbag! Your son was responsible!” Jae shouted.
“This is proof that even a ‘hero’ like Jae is not immune to the corruption that fought to take his soul,” Morgan went on. “He had a taste of what he could do, and he couldn’t settle for just that. He wanted more. Neo-humans like him will always want more. They want to usher in a new era, one where they rule. They have unimaginable power, and they want to use it. Bombing our cities was only the first step, and killing my son was their next, to remind me and everyone else that they are our new masters. But I refuse to bow my head in servitude. I refuse to let my son’s death be in vain!” He slammed the podium again, and like a signal, a huge roar rose up from the audience. “What these neo-humans do not seem to realize is that a man who is provoked is a dangerous man indeed, and while individually we may be powerless, as a group, as a community, as a nation, we are powerful! We must show these would-be subjugators that we cannot and will not be trifled with! We must show them that we are the future, and they are not!”
Another cheer rose, and in unison, hundreds of fists clenched at the darkened skies, chanting Morgan’s name.
Jae gripped the TV. “How can you go on and lie like that, you backstabbing son of a bitch? How can you—”
A hand touched Jae on the shoulder, and he turned to see Tobin standing behind him.
“Let us go,” Tobin said.
And the world went dark.
PART TWO
The Impossible
Chapter One
The Little Sahara seemed to stretch almost endlessly, like a vast ocean of red dust and beige sand, speckled with wind-molded rock mounds and prickled cacti, the perimeter of this far-reaching Oklahoma terrain bordered by sloping mountain ranges both hazy and dreamy grey. A hot gale blew in from the south, bringing with it a collection of irritants, kneading it into their skin. A lone raptor circled the sky above them, a small black shape against the sundrenched blue.
They sat on grime-stained circular benches just outside an unmarked black cabin. Clay, dressed in jeans and a tank top, and his skin glistening with sweat, sat on top of a table with his feet resting on the benches, staring at the dirt below him. Tobin stood near the entrance of the cabin, sheltered beneath a small barrier of shade provided by the sloping roof of their new home. Jae sat at a different bench with Andrea next to him, both staring at nothing.
“Divide and conquer,” Clay said. “It’s a good strategy. The oldest trick in the book.”
“Yes,” Tobin said.
“And Morgan played it to perfection.” Clay grimaced at that admission. “By portraying his son as the victim of a senseless crime, and Jae as the neo-human hero turned murderer, Morgan has solidified his notion that we are nothing but walking time bombs. Pinning the terrorist attacks on Jae was a disgusting masterstroke, and people readily believed it.”
“People are readily gullible,” Tobin said.
“Everything that he claimed we were—rabid, violent, destructive—has come true, all by his design. People looking for an excuse to openly hate us have now found it. This was Morgan’s ‘I told you so’ moment, and he has successfully turned the people against us. We have no allies. Whatever support we had has now eroded. People are thirsty for a fight.”
“And through all that, Morgan has somehow suppressed information about the true nature of his son,” Tobin said. “No one can be convinced that Daniel was a neo-human, or that he was the real culprit behind the bombings. Everyone thinks he was just a regular, innocent, soft-spoken young man, and anyone who steps forward to claim otherwise is shouted down by the mob. They refuse to believe it.”
Clay looked dejected.
“In addition, the sudden disappearance of Daniel’s body, along with Edison himself, has been a backbreaker for many in Daniel’s former organization. They do not want to believe that Edison was a traitor, but they also cannot deny the truth right in front of them. How else could Morgan have access to his dead son unless someone delivered it t
o him? Paranoia is now running high because of this. Fingers are being pointed at anyone suspected of treason. Daniel’s most trusted lieutenants have been running an inquisition. Heads have literally rolled.” Tobin turned to Jae. “Many also believe you were working with Morgan and Edison, and they want nothing more than to make an example out of you.”
“How can they think I’m working with Morgan if I’m the one taking the fall for his son’s death?” Jae asked.
“Too many of Daniel’s people saw you at the scene of the crime, and that’s enough evidence. Most they’ll believe is that Morgan threw you under the bus after you served your purpose. Either way, they want you dead.”
“Morgan sows distrust, paranoia, and fear, turning human and neo-human against each other in various different ways, while he stands behind the curtains and pulls the strings, laughing at the chaos he has fermented. He knew what he was doing,” Clay said.
“Why is he doing all this? Why is he so determined to start a fight?” Andrea asked.
“Because Morgan is a merchant of death. Peddling conflict is how he makes his fortune.”
“But to go as far as to kill his own son?” Andrea asked.
“It’s not just that,” Tobin said. “I’ve heard rumors that Morgan is convinced that a war is inevitable between humans and neo-humans, and he believes humans will ultimately lose that war, with the outcome resulting in their extinction. So everything he has done up to this point—publicly disparaging neo-humans, encouraging people to take up arms, and killing his son just to further his point about people like us—were steps that he took to try and prevent that. He wanted people to believe that neo-humans were out to get them, so that they’d prepare themselves for the coming conflict ahead.”
“Both father and son wanted war, ironically, but for different reasons,” Clay said.
“Then we have to convince people that there is no enmity between humans and neo-humans,” Andrea said. “We have to stop this war from happening.”
“Then we have to stop Morgan.”