Impact (Book 1): Regenesis

by Harrison Pierce

  Drake started, “You could use them to help people, and I don’t mean as in flying around in tights with a mask. If you see someone in trouble you could help them.”

  “Screw that,” Jordan butted in, “Why shouldn’t he become a super hero?”

  “Maybe because we don’t know what the ramifications could be,” Drake told him. “What happens to him if he does don a cape and mask and the world panics? Then he’s hunted down, interrogated, and possibly locked away. It could simply become a witch hunt.”

  “Or he’ll be a hero everyone looks up to.”

  “Guys,” Ian finally spoke up, “I don’t think I’m going to do anything with them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’d be easier if I was just Ian Price rather than some idol.”

  “But you’d be a super hero,” Jordan told him. “Do you know how many people dream of that? Including me?”

  Ian looked away from him and apologized. “If I could just dump this ability into your hands I would. All I want is to move to London at the end of the month and just try to blend in there.”

  Jordan rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’d be a major force for good.”

  “He still could be,” Drake intervened. “This isn’t something he has to decide on at this very moment in time. If he wants to do the whole savior of London thing in a year he still could.”

  Jordan frowned but agreed with them. He changed the subject, “So have either of you heard from Nick?”

  ---*---

  Chapter 12

  August 31st, 2029

  9:45 AM

  Kenmore, Washington

  Jessica sat in her room behind her desk. Her laptop was open and busily flashed different images, video clips, and documents from a number of sources. Most of the documents’ tags read ‘check this’ or ‘you won’t believe it.’ She spent the morning reading through dozens of different materials while she tried to gain a better understanding of the recent discovery.

  She woke up at six in the morning because of a text message that rang over her phone. It startled her for a few reasons, the first of which was that her phone was set to silent, yet it rang out her ringtone when the message came. The other oddity was the absence of a sender. The message only read ‘login.’ Although she tried to reply to the sender, her message was only bounced back to her. A friend of hers sent her a message that told her she needed to log onto REFOIA.

  Jessica logged in and hundreds of documents, messages, videos, and images flooded her inbox. The first thing she did was filter them, to narrow down the ones that were duplicates, which left her with three dozen documents, two dozen images, and another dozen videos. A majority of the items were sent to her by her best contact, kirasho52, and as such many of the remaining sources were duplicates.

  After she watched, read, and saw all the documents, she joined a chat with some of her friends, a conversation that had gone on for nearly an hour.

  [jess_VII has joined]

  kirasho52: obviously half are fake.

  balt_raven00: no, which ones?

  kirasho52: most u sent out. (@balt_raven00)

  mhanzo40: No, the one he sent about Texas is real.

  lady_L_12: really? what about tehran?

  mhanzo40: Sniper, most likely an assassin.

  mhanzo40: Possibly Ghost.

  kirasho52: no way.

  lady_L_12: yeah right.

  balt_raven00: cant b, was killed by Dáfù week b4 US attack.

  kirasho52: Doubt that, Ghost is the best.

  jess_VII: No one’s seen him in over five years I heard.

  lady_L_12: 2 actually.

  lady_L_12: funeral n london.

  balt_raven00: casket thing? I rem.

  kirasho52: heard that was fake.

  jess_VII: Real. No one else is sick enough to try.

  mhanzo40: What about the kid from Vietnam?

  balt_raven00: real, can’t fake.

  kirasho52: yeah u can.

  jess_VII: It’s called Hollywood.

  lady_L_12: I think it’s real, he ran across water.

  kirasho52: could rock path be underneath?

  jess_VII: Doubt it, that would take too much time.

  mhanzo40: Someone would have noticed.

  jess_VII: What about the kid in Texas?

  mhanzo40: The kid stopped a tornado. I’m surprised it didn’t make any news headlines.

  lady_L_12: could b coincidence.

  balt_raven00: doubt it.

  lady_L_12: that’s what most video responses outside of REFOIA have said.

  mhanzo40: Well they’re all mostly people who have nothing to say about the changing world.

  kirasho52: and we do?

  mhanzo40: More or less.

  mhanzo40: What about the girl in Cairo?

  balt_raven00: no vid, no way.

  lady_L_12: news article said car went through her.

  jess_VII: Still seems hard to believe.

  kirasho52: how bout pic from PCR?

  kirasho52: PRC*

  mhanzo40: Yes.

  balt_raven00: no, Photoshop, I could do it.

  lady_L_12: he was holding a house over his head.

  lady_L_12: stopping it from sliding down hill or something.

  balt_raven00: telling u, Photoshop house or the guy into pic.

  kirasho52: house was over head, doubt it was Photoshop.

  [wor1d had joined]

  balt_raven00: who r u? (@wor1d)

  balt_raven00: this is a private chat.

  wor1d: New video, private viewing, uploading now.

  [wor1d has left chat]

  lady_L_12: who was that?

  [CHAT TERMINATED]

  Jessica tried to restart the chat but the system told her the option was restricted. A small pop up window appeared on her screen and a progress bar quickly sped from zero to complete within seconds. The window enlarged and a video played. Audio was heard first in the form of a garbled voice, “This was recorded outside of Las Vegas earlier this morning. I have reviewed it and found that it is authentic.”

  The video played and showed two men in the Las Vegas desert. Whoever shot the video could be heard talking to a friend of his, though Jessica quickly realized their commentary wasn’t beneficial to the overall purpose of the video. Everything paused for a moment while the image zoomed in on the two men in the desert. The image was cleaned up and Jessica thought her heart stopped.

  The man on the right was the assassin Ghost, a man who had never before been on American soil. He held a large black sniper rifle and handed it to the younger man on the left. Jessica’s heart raced when she saw him there.

  “Nick?”

  Nick touched the end of the rifle and after a moment a black cloud of smoke consumed the two of them. Once it cleared Nick held an exact copy of the rifle Ghost held. Nick took aim at the two young men who held the camera, both panicked, and a single shot was fired before the image went black.

  The garbled voice returned and gave additional information about the event. “The shot was from over five-hundred-thirty yards away. Neither of the two young men who filmed this were harmed. Both men claimed that Ghost and the young man with him acted as if neither cameraman was there, though both cameraman say they fled the scene immediately after the event.”

  The window disappeared and the chat resumed.

  [balt_raven00 has joined]

  [jess_VII has joined]

  [kirasho52 has joined]

  [lady_L_12 has joined]

  [mhanzo40 has joined]

  kirasho52: Whoa

  balt_raven00: cant b real, ghost is dead.

  mhanzo40: If REFOIA says he was there, he’s alive. It’s real.

  mhanzo40: Sorry, but I need to go.

  [mhanzo40 has left chat]

  lady_L_12: I’m in London and it’s still freaky.

  lady_L_12: oh, I think it’s real too.

  kirasho52: def. real.

  kirasho52: kid copied a sniper, how cool.


  lady_L_12: Alright. So we’re in agreement that there are at least thirteen people with super powers thus far?

  balt_raven00: not counting my opinion?

  lady_L_12: of course

  kirasho52: what about u jess?

  jess_VII: still unsure.

  jess_VII: gtg.

  [jess_VII has left chat]

  Jessica left the chat and immediately grabbed her cell phone. She tried to call Nick but it went straight to voicemail. She hung up and called another number, it too went to voice mail, but she did leave him a message, “Drake, its Jess. Call me as soon as you get this. It’s about Nick.”

  “Ghosts are scary aren’t they?” Jessica felt her heart race again as her little brother said that. He stood in the doorway and wore one of his big grins. He continued, “They always sneak up on you and since you can’t see them you don’t know who they really are.”

  She took a breath and told him, “Ghosts aren’t real Michael.”

  His smile faded. He made a sign with his hands and yelled out, “Pow! They won’t leave and one of them won’t ever be able to rest.”

  Jessica knew she wasn’t breathing regularly but she tried to remain as calm as she reassured him, “Ghosts aren’t real buddy.”

  He walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder and said, “You can’t fear what doesn’t exist because if it didn’t exist you wouldn’t know it could scare you.” He stopped, frowned, and whispered, “They’re real, and they’re coming.”

  “Michael, what are you talking about?”

  “They’ll be here, but one of them will never rest, as most ghosts never rest,” he told her as he headed for the door.

  Jessica continued to look at the doorway after he’d gone. She only looked away when Drake called her back and she needed to tell him about Nick.

  ---*---

  10:10 AM

  Bothell, Washington

  Ian sat with Coop and Wally in a small diner on Main Street in downtown Bothell. He and his friends had discovered the restaurant one morning years earlier and quite by accident. The food was inviting, however after ordering their meals they quickly realized that the location they had selected was designed somewhat more for the brunch seeking crowd, namely for couples and groups of women. The floral décor along with the selection of music escaped them until their collective moment of realization. However the food was excellent and as such they became regulars on days when they could gather so early in the morning.

  Coop shoveled his order of an omelet, toast, hash browns, bacon, sausage, and fruit into his mouth without stopping for a breath. Wally, in contrast, had ordered a far more modest order of a short stack and bacon, and took his time eating without looking like a glutton. Ian ordered oatmeal and toast, though he hardly touched it.

  An elderly couple were the only others in the diner, so other than the occasional waitress who would stop by to refill Coop’s orange juice, Wally’s coffee, and Ian’s water, the three young men were undisturbed.

  Ian held his glass of ice water and brought it to his lips for only a moment before he set it down and initiated their conversation, “Guys, what if I told you I could do something, but if might freak you out?”

  Coop swallowed his food and asked, “Is it the thing Jordan told us about?”

  Ian scowled, “What thing?”

  “The thing with the lightning and you–”

  “Wait, he told you about that?”

  They nodded uniformly.

  Ian felt sick. He downed the rest of his water, rubbed his eyes, and cursed Jordan’s loose lips. “So you two know…Did he tell anyone else?”

  “How the hell should we know?”

  “Coop,” Wally stopped him. “No, from what I know he only told us because the three of us were hanging out last night and he let it slip once he was wasted. I thought it was crap, but apparently…it’s true?”

  Ian nodded and watched their enthusiasm unfold. Coop practically sprayed him with his meal while he spouted question after question. Wally was hardly better, as he failed to take a breath between his queries. Ian finally stopped them and agreed to answer their questions, and to display his newfound abilities to them once their brunch was finished.

  -- -- --

  Once they paid, the three boys drove over to the nearby Blythe Park. Once they parked they hiked far enough into the forest where Ian felt no one might stumble upon his display of power. Ian ensured that his friends were ready and after one final cautionary glance around their surroundings, he pressed his hands together and slowly drew them apart. He revealed the thin strings of lightning between his hands. But when he pulled them too far apart, instead of the crack of thunder, lightning shot out in two directions from his hands.

  “Holy crap!” Coop yelled. He laughed, shaken, but excited, “That was so cool!”

  “Did…Did I hit anything?” Ian asked, startled.

  Wally shook his head, “No, but that was amazing!”

  “What else can you do?” Coop asked.

  “Not too much…I didn’t even know that I could do that,” he admitted.

  “Then you’ve gotta be able to do other things too!” Coop boomed, “You just gotta try!”

  “But since you can do things with lightning,” Wally began, “And Jordan mentioned the thunder, maybe you really can fly. I mean those other things are from the sky and all.”

  “How on earth am I going to learn how to fly?” asked Ian.

  “Jump off a cliff,” Coop joked.

  “Ha ha.” Ian paused for a moment and then told them that they needed to keep his secret between the three of them. “Don’t even tell Jordan about this, alright?”

  “Sure.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Seriously, I don’t want anyone else to know. And I’m going to have to talk to Jordan, because you two weren’t supposed to hear about this yet.”

  “We swear,” Wally promised.

  “Yeah. Now,” Coop put his arm around Ian, “You’ve gotta take baby steps until you know all of what you can do.”

  Ian pushed him off, “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Seriously,” Wally started, “You have to learn to control the voltage, otherwise you might kill someone.”

  “And how do you suggest I do that?”

  “Start by trying to jumpstart my hybrid,” Coop joked.

  ---*---

  2:35 PM

  Baltimore, Maryland

  Repair work on the parking lot was still in the final stages since the attack the previous week. Fortunately the station wasn’t damaged too greatly, so aside from the limited access of their lot everything continued to run smoothly. A general cover story about a ruptured pipe hushed media attention, though officers outside of the Cladis investigative team doubted the validity.

  Detective Felton walked into Ryan’s office, shut the door, and took a seat in a chair adjacent to Chief Johnson. The chief had his hand over his face, a file in his lap, and hardly took notice of the Detective’s entry.

  “Commissioner Schmitt wants a full report come Monday,” the Chief told him. “I’m not sure why he wants it exactly, but I can’t imagine it’s good.”

  “He can’t just shut it down. There’s an obvious threat here in Baltimore and we can’t just ignore it. Cladis isn’t going to stop killing people if we stop looking for him.”

  Johnson agreed. “Y’know, some of the others are asking about the case,” he told Felton.

  “What did you say?”

  “I told them that there was no case until Schmitt says so.”

  “I take it they didn’t like that too much?”

  “No, most were absolutely fine with it.”

  Felton scowled and muttered, “It’s a grim thought that our own are turning their backs on what they’re supposed to stand for.”

  “I don’t think that’s it Chuck,” Johnson began.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t think they believe we can stop him. I’ve already had two people ask for transfers i
n the past week. They’re scared as hell that they might be next, and they don’t even know who’s behind all of the deaths.”

  Someone knocked on the door and broke their conversation. Johnson told them to enter and Officers Maguire and Hendricks, and Sergeant Geoff Murdock walked in. The three officers had a few scrapes, bandages, and Mia’s wrist was in a cast, but all in all they survived the attack on Mario Evanston.

  “What can I do for all of you?”

  The sergeant started, “We want to be on the case.”

  The chief rubbed his eyes and sighed, “I would love you let you all on, but there are a few issues with that. First off, this investigation is pending until we get the okay from Commissioner Schmitt to continue. Secondly, Maguire and Hendricks don’t take cases. I have no issue with you signing up Geoff, but they don’t have any prior work on a single case and they’re not even past their one year mark.

  Sergeant Murdock nodded, “Then at least explain to all of us what the hell’s going on.”

  “I read on REFOIA that this Cladis guy’s killed over ten people and that you guys said he might have super powers,” Maguire interjected. “Is that true?”

  “I’d say so,” Mia Hendricks mumbled, “Considering what happened last week.”

  Felton stopped them and asked Johnson, “What does it hurt if we tell them?”

  “If we told them they’d just try to get involved.”

  “Um, excuse me sir,” Mia cut in. She showed them her damaged wrist and told him they were already involved.

  Johnson apologized and told them he wouldn’t say anything about it.

  Sergeant Murdock let out a breath and nodded. “Y’know, there was another reason I came to talk to you sir,” he told the chief. “Apparently Jenna Bell has one of the crescent scars on her wrist.”

  Both Felton and Johnson asked what he meant in unison.

  “I happened to be down talking with some of the guys in forensics about an unrelated case,” he started.

  “I’m sure you were,” Johnson sighed.

  “One of the guys down there happened to notice the mark on Bell, a mark that wasn’t present when she was brought in. I happened to notice that mark on a few of the victims on Sage’s wall a few days before the incident with Evanston. From what I understand–”