EVO Universe 1: The First

by Kipjo Ewers

  “So to save your friend, you took matters into your own hands,” Mark concluded.

  “Wasn’t planned,” she shrugged, “I didn’t go looking for him, especially with all hell breaking loose that day…but when I saw his nasty greasy ass between me and three or four concrete walls to freedom…with nothing to lose I decided what the hell.”

  He was not sure if she was taunting him; sizing him up or attempting to get some form of rise out of him. He did know that time was winding down, and King was a man of his word.

  Mark decided a bit of a reality check was in order, “Ms. Dennison…, I’m here to make sure no one gets hurt…”

  “No you’re not Special Agent, you’re trying to handle me,” she cut him off with a sarcastic laugh; “I double majored in psychology, and I think you know by now…I can’t get “hurt” so easily.”

  She was verbally beating him in the corner; Sophia gave him a look that could turn stone to dust, “You came in here trying to see if you could restore order and reason, to try to put this little problem in a box like so long ago. I’m sorry to disappoint you…that’s not going to happen today.”

  “I’m not here trying to put you in some box Ms. Dennison,” Mark defended himself, “Look…clearly a lot of mistakes were made…”

  “That’s what you’re going to tell me Special Agent? Mistakes were made? The system wasn’t perfect? When I was like ten, my mom had a crystal swan broach with gold accents that she accused me of taking. When I told her I didn’t take it, she said I was lying and must have lost it. I got an ass whooping and sent to my room without dinner. I was in my room crying for almost an hour, when my baby sister walked up to my mom with the broach in her hair asking her why I got a beating. When my mom came in my room, no matter how much she hugged me and told me she was sorry I would not stop crying, nor be consoled,” she told her story with a sneered expression, “that was a mistake…but you want to negotiate Special Agent? Here are my terms.”

  She stretched out her hands in a passive position, “Give me back my husband…and I will surrender.”

  To which Mark responded, “Excuse me?”

  “I believe I’m still speaking English,” she returned, “And before you say my request is impossible, remember impossible is standing right before you. I think it’s a very simple request…I don’t want my four years back…I don’t want my job back, or money, or my possessions… I’ll even forgive the State of Texas for killing me, if you can give me back…my husband…Robert Matheson…I will surrender… and you can do whatever you want with me…that is all I want…can you do that?”

  In all of Mark’s entire life, he never felt more uncomfortable than in that moment. He did not see crazy in her eyes, or he hoped. Therefore, if she did not have a case of insanity, she knew well that her request was impossible. What was the correct response to such a demand he thought.

  “Ms. Dennison…” Mark began swallowing as hard as Hampton did when he interrogated him. Before he could begin with a reasonable explanation that would not get him killed, she waved him off.

  “Stop, that was an unfair and unreasonable request,” Sophia half apologetically recognized with a hint of sarcasm, “Here’s another proposal, you go outside to your superiors and tell them I will surrender if and only if they find and turn over the members of the D.E.A.D to me.”

  Once again, Mark felt uncomfortable; the request went from resurrecting the dead, to making the tooth fairy appear. Not that he did not believe they existed with all the evidence he had and Sophia’s worldwide statement, but there was no way of materializing individuals that were originally campfire stories soldiers told five minutes ago.

  “Ms. Dennison…” Mark started again with a weary swallow.

  She cut him off at the knees again, “You gonna tell me the United States Government doesn’t negotiate with terrorists Special Agent?”

  He was a bit insulted that she would think he would say something that stupid.

  “If you are…remember… United Nations General Assembly in 1994 defined terrorism as, a group of persons or particular persons committing criminal acts intended or calculated to provoke a state of terror in the public. For political, philosophical, ideological, racial, ethnic, religious or any other nature that they may deem justifiable,” she cited.

  Now she was insulting him by reciting something she probably read off Wikipedia, remembering what Hampton told him about her super memory.

  “Now you can charge me with manslaughter or second degree murder. Breaking and entering, evading and eluding or trespassing.” she motioned to her surroundings, “I’ll even cop to breaking out of prison although technically I think I served my time when I allowed that state to execute me…but I have not committed a terrorist act, nor am I a terrorist. All I want after all the hell I have been through…is justice, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for. As I said upstairs, I am not going anywhere until I find those responsible for murdering my husband and framing me. So there are only two options Special Agent…you can march back out there, and tell your superiors to move heaven and hell to get me the people I want…”

  Sophia leaned forward a bit to get her point across, “Or I walk out there and find them myself, and all of you can “try” to stop me.”

  Mark put his head down in defeat, Sophia knocked him out several rounds ago, and they were nearing the ten minutes given to him. He also knew very well no one outside was going to agree to her terms, and she would not bow.

  “You know…that’s not going to happen”, he said quietly.

  “Then there’s nothing more to discuss…is there Special Agent. By the way…,” her eyes became glassy with tears of pent up rage, “How you feel right now…powerless…that’s how I felt…doesn’t feel good…does it?”

  “I’m sorry,” he somberly returned looking at his shoe, as his shoulders felt heavy for some reason.

  “You didn’t murder my husband or turn my world upside down,” returned Sophia, “So why are you apologizing?”

  Mark chose his next words carefully, “Ms. Dennison, there’s no way we could have known…”

  “That’s the problem Mark…I can call you Mark? “We” didn’t know,” she cut him in half again wiping her eyes, “ We the “people” too busy watching American friggin Idol, or House Wives of whatever state I could give a shit about to asked the question, “What the “hell” is my government doing while I sleep at night. We let people who we elect, claim they have our best interest at heart bend us over a table doing whatever they like while we’re texting our BFF. We don’t do a damn thing till it hits the fan, and even when we’re drowning in it we still do nothing. Sanctioned Death Squads coming into our homes in the dead of the night killing our loved ones and framing us for it is just the extreme side of it, but my eyes have been opened…and now it’s time to open everyone else’s for good. So again, thank you but no Special Agent…as a former card carrying member of the Republican Party, which “killed” my parents. I have waited for the system to come to its senses, and see my innocence to the very end when they strapped me on that table…I’m going to have to decline coming in and talking to the likes of you…no offense.”

  Armitage looked into her eyes and saw that there was no longer a shred of reasoning. How could there be after what she described being put through? He thought about criminals he muscled with the power of the Federal law backing him, how small and feeble they felt when he put the hammer down on them, even though they deserved it. His power was now small and feeble against an innocent woman scorned, with the power of a god coursing through her veins. Diplomacy was officially dead.

  “You’re not good a negotiations, are you?” she plainly asked.

  “No,” huffed Mark flicking imaginary dust from the marble security counter, “I guess I’m not.”

  “Two tanks out there huh?” she turned looking again out the glass doors, killing the awkward silence.

  He did not know her before but he could tell after six days she was real
ly getting into being a super human, which forced a smirk on his face, “Yeah…”

  “Probably should have brought three,” she started to get a little amped, “They got snipers? And those mini-gun things like in Predator?”

  “Something like that…” he nodded.

  Sophia frowned looking at her gear, “Gonna mess up my outfit, you know I just bought this on Saturday?”

  “Listen…there are kids out there,” Mark went in with one final plea, “Husbands and wives caught up in this mess doing their duty…is there any chance you could…not…”

  Mark was at a loss for words, this was not any regular negotiation. She was not holding hostages, nor did she have a bomb or a biological weapon.

  She was the weapon, an extremely powerful one; and here he was standing there, pleading with her not to walk through those doors and possibly hurt good people outside for the sins of a failed system. Sophia looked into his carved out worn eyes, that probably hadn’t seen a good night’s sleep in years including the days he was chasing her and saw goodness in a harden face.

  She smiled deciding to do him a solid, “So if you were to talk me down, what was supposed to happen next?”

  “You coming out with your hands behind your head, ready to kneel and be restrained,” he motioned grateful that she was willing to work with him.

  “That again?!” she scoffed remembering his attempt to make her kneel and surrender at the General’s house, “Well that’s not going to happen, but I think I can do something to make sure not a single shot gets fired…and no one gets hurt…radio your people…tell them I will come out with my hands up behind my head.”

  As she moved to head to the entrance, Mark cautiously put his hand out to stop her, asking her one last question, “I got to know…everything you said upstairs about the…”

  “All true…but I think you knew that,” she confirmed as she looked into his eyes while answering his question.

  “Last question,” he threw out, “Why did you decide to talk with me for so long?”

  She gave him simple pleasant smile, “Something told me you’d probably be the last nice person I’d ever get to talk to.”

  She turned heading to the door, as Armitage stood there dumbfounded and guilt ridden. He had lived in a world that hardened him to the fact that evidence ruled, and the justice system though faulty was fair; there was nothing fair about what the system did to the young woman who smiled at him, and was walking out to meet several hundred guns pointed at her. He had no right to asked her to surrender and subject herself to that very same system that had blatantly failed her on so many levels.

  He was not a religious man, the only time he visited church after his altar boy days was for Christmas and Easter with his ex-wife dragging him there, but he had to wonder as he watched her walk off. Had things gotten so bad that the Man upstairs, who remained silent for so long, allowing His children to figure out their own shit, decide that this one time enough was enough and it was His time to intervene? Did He spare her life…so she could shatter an already broken system?

  Realizing his was getting philosophical while she was almost near the door; he grabbed his radio from his belt to let the outside world know, “She’s coming out with her hands up.”

  “What?! You’re not walking her out?!” yelled King over the other end.

  “Negative…” Mark answered before turning off his CB at that point, “And we’re gonna see why…”

  Sophia pushed the glass doors open walking out into a three-ring circus, there had to be every cop, F.B.I, C.I.A, SWAT, and military personnel in the entire state out there, and probably other neighboring states. All with guns trained on her.

  Behind them every camera crew from every news station broadcasting to most likely every state, probably worldwide. Finally behind them was another sea of fellow citizens of the District of Colombia watching curiously to either see her get taken into custody or gunned down in front of their very eyes. Oh, she also remembered the two tanks moving their turrets into position to blow her away if she made any sudden moves.

  “Sophia Dennison! Get down on the ground now! Do not make us shoot you!” King roared his command over the bullhorn.

  She just rolled her eyes at his orders; she could feel the sniper guns on her. Finally taking her own time to take it all in, she slowly put her hands up placing them behind her head.

  King seeing she was complying followed up on his first order, “On the ground now! Now!!”

  Slowly she got to one knee, while King gave the signal for a team to move in and bring her down, but before they got within ten feet of her Sophia would make them believe…that a woman could leap buildings with a single bound.

  The air left the lungs of every single person who was there watching over every device that had television capability as Sophia exploded with a leap that took her into the skies of Washington D.C. It truly looked as if she was flying as she cleared at least ten skyscrapers before descending back down into the city. She created a sizable pothole in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue on impact, which caused a taxi driver to come to a screeching halt as she pushed off again back to the skies.

  Back at the news station, Mark strolled through the doors to see the dumbfounded looked of every single person out there including King.

  Dustin was the only one looking at him as he walked out asking, “What the hell happened?”

  To which Mark replied with a shrug, “She didn’t want to come in”.

  Sophia took off once again with a scream of exhilaration into the air of Washington DC from the streets of New York Avenue where bystanders stood beside themselves watching the unbelievable spectacle before them.

  As she soared through the sky of the nation’s capital she got lost in the euphoria of how she was now unbound. She was not really into comic books growing up, her imagination built on playing doctor with her Barbie and Cabbage Pack dolls, but she had seen her fair share of super hero movies and became in awe with the fantastic abilities they displayed on celluloid film. Here she was basking in the dream of a million fan boys and girls around the globe, to be more than human…greater than normal.

  On her next descend into the streets she had planned to go higher, soar further, to see if she could actually achieve flight until something shot her violently out of the sky like a sparrow hit by a 12 gauge.

  She took the hit on her left side from the unbelievably powerful projectile, which sent her into an unrecoverable tailspin clipping the rooftops of two buildings before crash landing onto the streets of downtown Washington. Taking out two parked vehicles; creating a sizable crater on impact between a local pizzeria and a gym shattering the glass in both storefronts.

  “Target is down,” confirmed #1, “Move in quickly to subdue and extract…and remember to put your jammers up…we don’t want this shit on YouTube…”

  The high-pitched ringing in her ears finally subsided as the smell of smoke and something burnt filled her nose choking her. Everything was blurry and everything hurt, she had not felt this amount of pain since her escape from Mountain View, not even the bear mace was this bad. For about a second she thought she had cracked several ribs but the fact that she was slowly able to breathe easier meant they either held during the impact, or doing their regenerative healing thing. The ringing in her ear was replaced by multiple voices, the sun that was beaming down on her minutes ago covered by “shadows”. Finally coming to her senses, she realized a crowd had formed around her of DC’s concerned citizens. Well some were concerned while others had their phones up in her face taking pictures and videos.

  She could make out someone asking if she was okay, that an ambulance was on its way and not to move. Other questions where if she was an alien, a mutant, stunt double for a movie. In a minute, she was going to tell them all to get the hell out of her face when screaming began to ensue and the crowd scattered like roaches when the lights came on.