Impact (Book 1): Regenesis

by Harrison Pierce

  “What?”

  “We were called,” he repeated. “Chosen to do the Lord’s work.”

  Jason studied him and asked what he meant. “Do you think you have some sort of link to God, Joshua?”

  Todd nodded his head slowly and told Jason he had a task to complete. “One of the Lord’s angels came to me Jason. His name was…” the man paused for a moment, in thought, desperately trying to recall the forgotten name, “Oh what was it? Ramiel? No…Raphael? Or was it Remliel? In any case, the angel came and told me to punish the wicked, but when he came I was aged, I was dying and I didn’t know how to follow his commandment. So I searched and searched for a cure, for an answer, and I found, or rather, I discovered my purpose in life. A purpose beyond medicine, past saving mortal lives…saving eternal beings.”

  He’s unstable. I need to save her, but he’s…he’s…

  “How do you save them Joshua?”

  The elderly man waved a finger in the air and told Jason to have patience. “I was a far younger man when I was called, yet I was dying. Age had over taken me and my body, it decayed and found corruption. I needed to serve the Lord though, and I knew if he called me there was some way to do as he asked of me. I was a doctor Jason, a very good one too, but I was…I was seduced by dark, frightening things. I was almost lost until He sent one of his servants, his angels to me. I was instructed to usher the damned to another life, one where they might begin again and learn to be peaceful, better people.

  “It was a cold night in early autumn when I found my enlightenment,” Todd continued. “I happened upon a young inebriated man who spent his evening at a pub with some of his friends. As I walked past, he caught my attention. There stood a young, hulking individual who squandered his health, wellness, and life, and I was envious. And at that moment Jason,” he looked Jason in the eye to ensure he heard him clearly, “At that moment a thought arrived. What should stop me from taking what was his, or anyone else’s for that that matter? The youth waste their strength and vigor and supply little purpose to the world. So selfish and self-centered,” he sighed. “It was that very moment when I grew to understand everything all at once.

  “It was long past midnight when my prey left his party. He stumbled home on his own through the lamp lit streets. Most of the townspeople were long since asleep and left the roads wide open and vacant. I kept close to my subject, studying him, dissecting him. The brute stood two heads taller than I and appeared to weigh twice as much too. I remember keeping my hands deep in my pockets, but not to battle the cold. I gripped tight to a steel knife I purchased to perform my Lord’s work, though I trembled greatly at the prospect of making my first sacrifice.

  “The subject wandered far from the main part of town and onto worn dirt roads. The light from the city faded soon too and then not only my task but the shadows and sounds of the night frightened me. I found myself fingering the blade, memorizing how it opened, how long it was, how it felt, how heavy it was…” he paused. Joshua slowly reached into his pocket and continued, “It must have been a half an hour before I summoned the courage to creep up behind him. I looked all around, through the fields of tall grass and up and down the road. My heart slammed into my chest over and over and I could hear it from within me. I stared at my prey, knowing he could hear me, knowing he could hear my ill heart too.

  “The man stopped and struggled to wheel around and face me. He asked what I wanted, but I could not bring myself to utter a single word. There before me stood a giant of a man, someone who could with little effort stop my feeble hand from performing its necessary duties. But without warning came a sign. A crow cried out from the brush beside us and though fright overtook us both, I reacted in terror and plunged the knife into his wretched heart.”

  Joshua stopped there as he pulled out a worn and rusty knife. He held it in the palm of his flat hand. “He screamed as I drove the blade into his chest over and over and over again until his cries died out in the night. I’d completed my master’s wishes for the first time. It felt exhilarating. But fear seeped back in as I dreaded that someone, some passerby might have heard the commotion.

  “It took all of what little strength I had left but I hid the body deep in the tall grass, far from the road. I waited for the space of an hour, listening to the chirps of insects, the occasional footstep of a woodland creature, and my own thunderous heart. My eyes remained open wide, piercing the veil of night in search of any possible attackers or villagers who might have come after me for my prize.” Todd took a moment to collect his thoughts before he resumed his tale, “I needed time to think about how I was to steal the man’s youth, his life, something I worried I had already carelessly discarded. But enlightenment continued to pour into my soul and I knew all I needed to. Using the blade I started from the underside of the man’s left arm and sliced deep, thick cuts of his flesh and muscle. I collected as much as I believed I could carry without attracting attention and stole away to my home. His remains were discovered early that morning and the brutality of the event led to a manhunt, though they never found the right man, as you can see.

  “I spent the next day in hiding, receiving no patients or visitors. I obsessed over how to use what I’d stolen before it fell away into waste. It began to worry me, as the flesh and meat sat in a bloody heap on a stool in the deepest room in my home. It ate at my mind and heart and I could not bear to be away from it, even for a moment, in fear that someone could uncover my act and accuse me of the slaying. I remained in the complete darkness of my home all that next night, sitting quietly on the floor beside my bounty. Sleep pestered me as did my desire for food and water, but all I could think of was the need, the craving for an answer, for a way to keep this stolen power for myself. So I pressed onward and remained there, beside my prize.

  “But I was taken by sleep. I only awoke at the sound of my son when he entered my front door. My heart raced as I collected myself and rushed to meet him, to shepherd him away from my precious secret. My boy, a man then, married with a child even, still tended to me on a regular basis. It was Wednesday then and he invited me to the store with his wife and child to purchase provisions for the week. I was so worried he would notice something I may have left out of place, a bloody handprint or the knife even, though I knew it was with me in my pocket. But my mind, racked with worry, with panic, managed to convince my boy that I was too weak then, too tired for what we had planned. He promised me he would return later in the week, as he often did.

  “Once my son left, I returned to my trophy and I speedily began my experimentations. Over the course of that day I came to find a rudimentary perfection and managed to summon strength enough to begin my procedure. I had to use stolen medication to numb the pain and elevate myself to another level to operate. When it was over I slept for nearly three days. Famished, I joined my boy for a meal with his family. The operation succeeded and so long as I could hide the scars and the great difference in my flesh and that of the man I had killed, no one would ever learn of my actions. I burnt the remains of my own accursed age in a hearth.

  “But my procedure was imperfect. My body began to reject the addition and I grew terrified that I had made a fatal error. I grew ill and knew I needed another specimen so I could discard the rejected flesh in favor of something compatible with my own body. And I knew my Lord needed another brought unto him. Yet because of my condition I was frail and I shuddered to think I would fail at my task. Friends and family came one after another to care for me, none of them ever seeing my wounds though. I refused to see a doctor as well, which brought suspicion, I fear. None could uncover my plot though, instead believing my mind had begun to wander. Word spread throughout the town that I might even be on my deathbed. People came with flowers and meals one after another, and I found myself fixated on each one as I sorted through each of their inherent qualities and benefits.

  “And yet, one thing troubled me most of all. Even if I found replacement parts, I knew there wasn’t any guarantee my body would accept
them. I couldn’t understand why the idea was placed into my mind if I was damned to fail. It was maddening until I found a reasonable hypothesis. I knew it was but a temporary solution to my overall designs, but it would at the very least undo the mishap of the decaying meat attached to me then. I outlined my plan and waited until the time was right.

  “One night my son came to check on me. He came to ensure my condition hadn’t worsened and to spend the evening with me. We talked about recent events, how his child was, and about medicine, which was something my boy was fascinated by. During the evening he made a supper consisting of a stew, bread, boiled potatoes, and some ale. We ate and reminisced as the night deepened. Then, after my boy consumed enough of our ale, he began to tell me of the strangeness he suspected of me. He didn’t know anything concrete or defined, but he told me he resented my lies. My child assumed I was dying, or ailed with some unalterable disease, or even that I plotted to abandon my practice altogether for another life, one filled with shadow and occult. I remember his smile as we sat across from one another late that night. He smiled and whispered to me his great notion that I knew about the details of the other man’s death. About the man he did not know I killed. I denied it of course, as casually as I could. I was calm though my heart was not. I watched as my boy slowly closed his eyes and collapsed from his chair. A poison I had planted in his drink earlier in the evening had worked.

  “My son’s wife suspected something after he failed to return home the next day from my quarters. She went to the authorities but by the time she arrived all that remained were the ragged and bloodied remains of my son. I performed my next operation far from home and after a similar experience as the first procedure I came out healthy again. The transplant was a success, the first of many. And all I needed afterwards was to perfect my art, to slowly remove the remainder of my decaying body, and to harvest the souls to my master while I kept the bodies for myself.”

  Jason felt ill. He took a slight step away from the man and tried to maintain his composure. The girl, Lily, sat paler than ever. This isn’t helping her. I need to think, what do I do?

  “I need you to help me Jason,” Joshua reminded him. “As you can see, it is very difficult for me to find subjects for my Lord. Since I find and can take few subjects I run the risk of encountering my own demise at the hands of simple rejections from my own body. I learned that there are specific people–”

  “Blood types,” Jason filled in.

  “Yes, but even then conditions are never assured to grant me more life. It takes time to find suitable replacements, especially ones who are in need of my Lord’s redemption.”

  Jason stopped him, “You’re sick Joshua. I-I don’t even know where to begin.” Do I kill him? Do I have that right? What am I supposed to do?

  Joshua set the blade and the notepad he’d kept with him through his tale on the table before him. “I have a list for you Jason.” He tapped the notepad twice, “Names and addresses and sins. Find them and bring them to me–”

  “Why the hell would I help you?” Jason snapped.

  Joshua remained still and told him he too was chosen. “How is it you believe to be alive? It is because our Lord willed it.”

  “Your God has nothing to do with me,” Jason told him. “You are delusional Joshua and you need help.”

  “I need your help, Jason,” he tapped the notepad twice more, “You have been selected for a unique task.”

  “I am not a butcher.”

  “No, you are a savior,” Joshua assured him. “And I need you to save these people.”

  Jason shook his head and denied Joshua. “You’re done. This stops here and now.”

  Joshua frowned and asked him if he truly refused to answer his master’s call. “You are meant for greatness, my boy.”

  Jason felt his hair stand on end, “Please Joshua, stop this now.”

  The elderly man only shook his head and placed his hands on the edge of the table. “I am very sorry for all of this then, Jason. As I said, you were meant for great things, yet you too have squandered your gifts.”

  “That isn’t really for you to determine.”

  “You may not believe it to be so, but you have forgotten something key boy,” the man frowned, “I’ve studied you, I’ve dissected you, and I know how you work. And I know your weakness.”

  “Really? You happen to have a diamond blade with you?”

  Todd shook his head, “I wasn’t talking about that Jason. I meant the radiation coursing through your veins.” He cracked a smile and told Jason the radiation was killing him. “And I believe I have made proper precautions in case you did try to stop me. I am only sorry you have forced me to use them. Goodbye Jason.”

  Jason heard an extremely high pitched whine from above him and before he could react the roof exploded and buried him in debris. A searing pain crippled him. Jason struggled to remain conscious and failed to understand why he failed to recover. Joshua inspected him as Jason’s mind fogged. How? Why wasn’t I more careful? How… Jason slowly closed his eyes and blacked out.

  ---*---

  4:27 PM

  Kenmore, Washington

  Jessica cleared the mess from the peanut butter and banana sandwich Michael requested. He asked specifically for a peanut butter and banana sandwich, because he feared bananas might become an endangered species and wanted as many of them as he could possibly get before the dreaded extinction occurred. However, upon being presented with the sandwich, Michael ate the crust and announced his plan to save the middle of the snack for later.

  The little boy sat cross-legged in front of the family’s small television and enjoyed the commercials before the five o-clock news began. Michael leaned closer and listened intently to an ad for men’s shaving cream.

  He laughed suddenly and said to his sister, “Knock knock.”

  She looked at him with a perplexed expression, but played along with his game rather than question him. “Who’s there?”

  “Boo.”

  “Boo who?”

  “Don’t cry, it’s a joke!” he told her as he burst into a fit of giggles as the doorbell rang.

  Jessica rolled her eyes as she left to answer the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Nick on her doorstep, unannounced. She hadn’t seen him in over a month, but she felt a definite change in the way he held himself, his confidence, and even his physical stature.

  He started their conversation by asking for a favor. “I’ve got a friend in a…” he paused to think of the appropriate word, but settled, “A situation, that I’m not sure how to handle.”

  “What are you talking about Nick?”

  “I’m not really sure how to say it,” he sighed, “But a friend of mine is in a bit of trouble.”

  “Trouble with the law?”

  He shook his head and said it wasn’t that simple.

  Jessica agreed to help him as best she could and invited him in. They didn’t managed to get very far, as her younger brother dashed up to Nick, stopped him, and asked where his coat was.

  Nick smiled and told him his girlfriend had it. “Why do you ask?”

  Michael frowned and mumbled that he wanted to count the holes in it. He started to walk away and hummed to himself.

  Jessica rolled her eyes and asked what Nick needed as they headed into her room so she could access her laptop. “What’s all of this really about Nick?”

  He admitted that his friend Laruen was a target of the MP3 Assassin and that he wanted to learn everything he could so he could save her. “Right now we’re holed up in a secret base of sorts…” he looked at her, let out a breath, and asked if she could keep a secret.

  She nodded, but stopped him before he could continue and told him she was already aware of his ability.

  “You are?”

  She repeated that she was and mentioned the video of him with Ghost she saw through REFOIA. Jessica hesitated to ask, but managed to find the words to inquire why he was with an assassin in the first place.


  Nick told her it was a complex matter, and that he couldn’t get into it then. “Basically, he’s the one who taught me how to use my ability the way I can now.”

  “Okay, but weren’t you terrified just being near him?”

  He shook his head and asked why he would be. “Strom isn’t that different from anyone else.”

  “Nick, he kills people for a living.”

  He reddened and admitted that Strom was guilty of that, but he stood by the belief that Strom wasn’t as evil as she perceived him to be. “He’s not a bad guy.”

  “But Nick–”

  “Jess,” he stopped her, “Could we just move on?”

  She blinked and slowly agreed. “I’m not sure what you need from me Nick. We ran a search for the assassin about a month ago and I doubt the information’s changed at all.”

  “I know.” He scratched the back of his head and asked what she thought he could do to protect Laruen. “She’s back in Seattle with Strom, and I think she’ll be fine, but she can’t stay there forever. And even so, if Dalton–the assassin, ever found us, I’m not sure if I could save her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He told her about how the charlatan attacked and killed Lauren’s parents, how he had an opportunity to kill him, but didn’t even try to stop him. “I don’t know what I’ll do when he actually finds her.”

  Jessica looked away from him and asked whether Lauren had an ability, which Nick told her she didn’t. “So there’s no way for her to really defend herself, is there?”

  He shook his head, “No, not really.”

  “What about Strom?”

  Nick asked if she heard about the Dáfù attack at the Seattle Art Museum, which she had, and explained the part the media left out. “Strom was there, with this group of people I am–well, a group I was associated with, but Dalton attacked and wounded him.”

  She frowned and asked why it wasn’t in the news. Jessica ran a search for the Dáfù’s attack of the Seattle Art Museum through REFOIA and it didn’t even have the information Nick revealed to her. “But he’s injured?”