The Iso-Stasis Experiment (The Experiments)

by Jacqueline Druga

  Jake, rolling his eyes, shrugged. He lifted his hand to the door. “Jennifer?” He knocked. “Are you all right?” The silence was broken by a ‘thump’ at the door. It caused Jake to jump back. “Rickie, Carlos, John, step into the gathering room. Cal, get ready to back me up.”

  Cal raised the rifle as she stepped back against the wall in the hall.

  Jake’s hand turned the knob on Jennifer’s door. He peered to his left, making sure that Rickie and the others were out of range. With his left hand turning the knob, he raised his shotgun with his right. The door opened with ease into the room and Jake’s eyes widened in shock as the room immediately came into focus. His whispered words were heard only by Cal. “Holy shit.”

  Gasping, Cal covered her mouth to stop from gagging as she stood in the doorway with Jake. “What happened?”

  “Keep you weapon up, Cal. And stay back.” Jake stepped into the room with the gun ready. The room was silent. Splattered blood looking like thrown paint covered the walls. Jennifer lay on the bed, and on the floor, and everywhere else in that room that pieces of her body could be tossed. “What the hell did this?” As Jake took another slow and apprehensive step forward, his foot touched down in a substance that squished. Lifting his foot to see what it was, he saw a long slimy clear substance stretched from the sole of his boot from the ground. He looked around the room which was still boarded up and closed off. “Cal, join the others.” A bad feeling hit Jake; it surged into his gut, the type of feeling he did not often get. Walking backwards, slow and ready, Jake pulled the door closed as he stepped from Jennifer’s room.

  “Jake?” Cal called from behind him. “What did that?”

  “I told you to get with the others.” Jake held his gun up, backing her with him toward the gathering room.

  Carlos, John and Rickie, heard Jake’s voice. They ran into the hall with him and Cal.

  “Jake,” Carlos called staying close to the other two men. “What happened? Is she all right?”

  Jake’s head tilted. “Shut up.” He pumped his shotgun. “Something is in . . .”

  The cry out came first. With a loud bellowing gut roar, the door to Griff’s room exploded in splinters and the Catch stepped into the hall. Its arms were stretched outward in attack mode. It stood over seven feet tall with barely interpretable human features on a grotesque muscular body. It was covered in grey downy hair from head to toe. It snarled, yellow eyes peering forth, an almost slime-like substance dripped from its jaws.

  Without any hesitation Jake began to fire. Cal’s weapon echoed his as they stood nearly side by side firing into the beast which was still stained with Jennifer’s blood.

  Determination glared on Jake’s face but quickly changed to apprehension as the shots he blasted didn’t even faze the creature. “Get back Cal, he’s not going down!”

  Cal ignored him and kept firing. She could smell the thing as it moved fearlessly toward them.

  “Cal, get . . .”

  The thing reached outward and, smacking the rifle from Cal. It spun from her arms and hit the floor. Stepping toward Jake, it reached with one hand, and easily snatched the shotgun from his hands and dropped it out of the way. The Catch then lunged. Gripping Jake with one hand it lifted him from the floor, turned and tossed him with ease down to the other end of the hall.

  Jake slid, on his back at first, and then rolling from the force of the throw until he crashed thunderously into the far wall.

  Carlos, shaking, leaped forward to get Cal. “We’re fucked.”

  Jake shook his head. He could see his shotgun, Cal’s rifle and the glaring look of the beast all but saying ‘try it.’ Almost as if taunting Jake, the Catch stopped watching him and reached for Cal.

  “No!” Jake screamed, picking himself up from the floor. In an emotional rush he charged forth at the creature. Raging like a bull, he ran as hard as he could; snatching up the first weapon he could grab in his run and barreled into the creature with all of his two hundred and sixty pounds. The floor vibrated as Jake and the thing crashed together not three feet from the others. Knowing he had stunned it, Jake jumped to his feet, stood with one foot on its chest and emptied the six remaining shells of Cal’s M-16 into the head of the huge destructor. Jake didn’t flinch, didn’t move, until the empty chamber clicked twice.

  Cal stepped closer, still in shock from the sudden chain of events. “Jake, is it . . .”

  Jake poked the motionless thing with the end of the rifle, moving its body, looking for a response. “I think it is.”

  Carlos and John, knowing it was now safe, moved in to get a closer look.

  John looked to Jake, who still stood atop the beast’s chest. “What the hell was it, Jake?”

  “How the fuck should I know.” Jake looked back at the room three feet away, the room the thing had charged from. Jake didn’t want to say what was going through his mind. He was too much of a realist to believe it. “Let’s just get it out of here. I’m sure the wolves would like some dinner.”

  “Dude.” Rickie finally came from behind everyone and gaped at the bloodied thing. “You know what? You killed Bigfoot.”

  ^^^^

  Cal was worried about him. That was why she disobeyed his request and went to search for him. She found Jake where she thought she would, standing before what used to be Griff’s door, standing amongst the dried blood, wood chips and sour smell. He leaned in the archway, elbow up, and his hand resting downward on the back of his neck. “Jake?” she whispered, running her hand down the crease in his back. “What are you doing?”

  “Cal.” Jake brought his hand down. “I uh, I thought I told you wait in the room.”

  “That was fifteen minutes ago Jake.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been standing here thinking.”

  “So, I see.” She wrapped her arm around his waist leaning into him. “You left me with Rickie. He was really rattled. Him, John and Carlos are camping out in John’s room. He keeps rambling on about Bigfoot.” She smiled a very nervous smile. “Jake . . . you don’t think that in a way he’s right do you?”

  “No, Cal. It’s not Bigfoot.” Jake faced her, a serious look on his face. “It’s Griff.”

  “What?” Cal gave a disbelieving laugh. “Griff is . . .”

  “Come here.” Jake took her hand and led her into the room. “Look at this.” He indicated the brownish, hairy mound which appeared to have broken open and was lying on the floor. “Look at it. It’s like a shell. And this ooze.” Jake lifted his boot to show her how it was so similar to glue. “It’s everywhere and it’s the same stuff that was in Jennifer’s room. It’s the same shit that dripped from his mouth.”

  “You think he hatched from there?”

  “Sounds unbelievable, but, yes, I do. This is a scientific experiment. Suppose they gave something to him before he came up here, something that was going to make him like this?”

  “Jake, I find this so hard to believe.”

  “Me, too, but this is a cocoon, Cal.” Jake shoved it with his foot. “This is exactly where Griff fell when I killed him.”

  “That’s right, Jake, you killed him. So how can it be Griff?”

  “I don’t know. I know I unloaded my entire revolver into his head. I also know this room was sealed. And this blob of a thing was not in here. It’s Griff, Cal, and they did something to him.”

  “It’s over though. He’s dead.”

  “Thank God for that.” Jake led Cal from the room. “It was strong, whatever it was. I’m a big man, and it threw me like I weighed nothing at all. I’ve never been thrown. I’ll tell you, Cal, that thing was frightening.”

  “Then you hid it well.” Cal started walking with him. “You didn’t look scared in the least.”

  “I wasn’t. I said the thing was frightening. I never said I was frightened. Please . . . and do you think I’d let you know it if I was?”

  “No. You wouldn’t.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” Jake brought her into their room, shut and locked th
e door. “I want you to feel safe with me, Cal.”

  “I do.” Cal leaned into his arms, letting Jake hold her.

  “There’s something I want to tell you.”

  “What’s that?” Cal asked.

  Jake rested his chin on her head. “Since that thing was going after you and I had to take it out, I’m counting it. I’m winning, four to three.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I-S.E. Twelve - Seal River Complex, Manitoba, Canada

  December 6 - 3:00 P.M.

  “Cal, this just isn’t going to work.” Jake stared around Cal’s room. The room that once had enough room to move about in now seemed crowded. “Explain to me why I had to move everything in here just so those three can huddle together in some sort of male bonding slumber party in my room.”

  “No one said to move your stuff in here, Jake.” Cal began to place things under the bed. “You’re the one who didn’t want them to have access to your things like your beer.” She looked at the cases lining the walls of her room.

  “Speaking of which . . .” Jake opened the little fridge and grabbed a beer. He removed and tossed the cap in the trash. “OK, Cal, I need to talk about this situation.”

  “No, what you need is to bitch about the situation. Tough Jake, there is safety in numbers.”

  “I don’t need them to be around to feel safe.” Jake took a drink. “They should have thought about their safety before they came up here. I did.”

  “Yeah, well, not everyone does what you do for a living.”

  “This doesn’t bother you?” Jake asked. “All of them next door? It should.”

  “It doesn’t.” Cal took the beer from his hand, took a drink and handed it back to him.

  “Hey.” Jake looked at the bottle. “Get your own.”

  “Oh, loosen up, Jake.” Cal opened his mini fridge and took a beer out for herself. “I’ll bet you go to the officer’s club every day after work.”

  “Just about. What the hell else am I supposed to do? Go home? To what?” Jake took another long drink. “Cal, when you have absolutely nothing to go home to, why go home?”

  “Tell me about it.” Cal sat on the bed.

  “Sometimes the peace and quiet you get is a welcome after a bad day.” Jake sat next to her. “But the emptiness can be a killer.”

  “I really didn’t expect to hear something like that from you.” Cal was surprised. “It’s just so, I don’t know, un-Jake?”

  “These past four months have bred a lot of un-Jake moments.”

  “Like the time you filled my bed with flowers?” Cal laughed. “You know, if I ever meet this Chuck guy that’s your friend, I will tell him.”

  “Please don’t. And you will meet Chuck. When you do, don’t listen to a word he says.” Jake leaned forward placing his empty bottle on Cal’s desk. “He’s an asshole. And . . . he’ll probably hit on you.”

  “Is he cute?”

  “Oh, yeah, Cal,” Jake answered sarcastically. “He’s a doll. How the fuck should I know?” Jake stood up walking to the bathroom. “I hope they don’t destroy the bathroom. I cannot shower in a messy bathroom.” Jake placed his ear close to the door. “And listen to them in there. They’re laughing.”

  “They’re trying to take their minds off things. They’re playing Rickie Pursuit. Want to join them?”

  “No, I don’t . . .” Jake opened up the door. He walked straight through to the other room. The laughter stopped when they noticed his presence. “Rickie?”

  “Sarge.” Rickie looked up. “Are you like wanting to play?”

  “No I’m not like wanting to play.” Jake held his hand out snapping his fingers. “Give me a few of those.”

  “Sure thing, Sarge,” Rickie said and reached into the shoe box and grabbed a handful. “I got plenty.”

  “Thanks.” Jake took the folded sheets of paper back into what would now officially be his room. “All right, Cal, test me. I have to see if I can do it.” He handed her the sheets of paper. “Fire away at me.”

  “This really bothers you that you can’t do this.” She opened up the first one. “Do you bowl?”

  “That’s the question?”

  “No, I was just curious. Because, I think that’s the physical sport I could beat you at.”

  “What bowling? I doubt it. And search all you want Cal, you won’t find a physical sport you can beat me at.”

  “Do you bowl?” Cal repeated the question.

  “I can bowl,” Jake answered. “Ask the Rickie Pursuit questions please.”

  “I bowl every Sunday.”

  “On purpose?” Jake asked. “I thought only married people bowled every week because they had nothing better to do with their time.”

  “That is insulting. Joyce and I are in a league. We’re pretty good. I guess if you don’t bowl regularly . . .” Cal’s words trailed to a whisper, “it wouldn’t be a challenge for me.”

  “Right, I’d kick your ass in bowling. How can you beat me? You’re little and you probably don’t throw anything heavy. What’s your average about one-twenty?”

  “It’s one sixty-eight.”

  “Ask the trivia question.”

  Cal was smiling and she smiled wider when she read the random sheet of paper that was handed to her. “Oh, Jake, this is funny.” Almost afraid to ask it, she did any way. “Name the person who is now famous for free basing penicillin?”

  “What? Free base penicillin? Who in the world would free base penicillin?”

  “You did.” Cal gave him the sheet of paper.

  “Oh, when did I free base . . . you didn’t?” Jake’s eyes widened.

  “I had to. You were sick. We borrowed a syringe and . . .”

  “We? Oh, yeah, that figures. Rickie had the skills. What would make you think free basing penicillin would work? Did you not think all you had to do was try to get me to take it?”

  “You wouldn’t, so I had to inject you in your butt.”

  “And I thought that was my imagination. I can’t believe you guys did that to me.” Jake stood up. “That’s probably what they were laughing in there. They probably had that question.” He began to pace.

  “You are just way too uptight tonight. I’m afraid to say anything to you.”

  “How am I supposed to be? I’ve lost all my privacy. I have three men afraid to sleep in their own room. Men, Cal, men.” Jake pointed to the door. “And my girlfriend doesn’t seem to care about that.”

  “Your girlfriend?” Cal laughed.

  “I’m assuming too much, aren’t I?” Jake looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that. I just thought since we sleep together all the time, that’s what you were.”

  “No, Jake, that makes us lovers. I don’t become your girlfriend until you’ve at least spent money on me. For example, take me to movies, dinner or sporting events. You can’t do those things up here, so I can’t be your girlfriend.”

  “Oh.” Jake walked back over to her. “Expensive meals or just regular meals?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just that with the way you eat, I’m going to hate taking you anywhere that doesn’t have a value menu.”

  “Jake, you made a joke. That’s really cute.” Cal returned to looking at Rickie’s questions.

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re cheap, too.”

  “I prefer to call it money conscious,” Jake stated.

  “Lighten up, Jake; you’re getting a check for a hundred grand. You probably drive a mini gas conscious car.”

  “Right, I do.” Jake fluttered his lips. “I drive a Jeep.”

  “Figures.”

  “When I’m not riding my bike, that is.”

  Cal started to laugh at him as she finished her beer. “Oh, that is funny. I can see you peddling around the base.”

  “Peddling? Get the hell out of here. I ride a Harley.”

  Cal’s mouth dropped open and she set her beer to the floor. “You just s
hocked me, and that rarely happens. You ride?”

  “Yes, I ride. What else am I going to spend my money on? Of course, I’ll probably have to sell it if I have to afford you.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “And look, I just did spontaneous affection.”

  “Wonders never cease. You’d really shock me if you spontaneously told me you loved me.”

  Jake opened his mouth and then quickly shut it. “Read a Rickie question.”

  Caldwell Research Institute, Atlanta, GA

  December 6 - 8:10 A.M.

  Head of the institute or not, Dr. Jefferson hated being on the elevator alone when he was going down to what everyone in the research institute referred to as ‘The sub levels of hell,’ but it was something he had to do. His felt anxious as his imagination take off with him—fear of the elevator getting stuck, getting stranded, days . . . weeks, no one finding him, becoming in essence, one of his own experiments . . . “How profound I am.” Dr. Jefferson said out loud as he waited for the doors to open. “I ought to be a writer.”

  He could smell them as soon as he stepped on to the floor. Though he knew for certain they were tucked away, deep and far back in the lab, their smell was predominant.

  “Dr. Jefferson,” the woman’s voice called to him.

  “Ahh, Dr. Holmes.” Dr. Jefferson shook hands with the dark haired woman, a big woman who was wearing a blue lab coat. “Did you get a chance to examine the video tapes I sent down yesterday?”

  “I did.” Dr. Holmes nodded, escorting Dr. Jefferson to her own lab. “I think that you’ve nothing to worry about. The experiment, or rather metamorphosis, will be fine. It is rejuvenating as predicted. How long it takes will vary.”

  “But my concern is that Graison unloaded six shells at close range into his head. That’s not a concern?”

  “Not in the least. I work with these creatures on a day to day basis. You know as well as I do there are only three ways to kill them, the anti-generation serum, which only our Stasis people have, prolonged exposure to warmth during regeneration or severing the brain stem. Like the participants before them, I highly doubt these people will figure that out. Unless they do, the Stasis will keep coming back.”