by Kipjo Ewers
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
One year and seven months later…at the United States Disciplinary Barracks Leavenworth, Kansas, two correctional personnel walked side by side with former four-star General Bernard Matheson now in prison garb and shackles. Despite being charged for treason for willfully firing a nuclear warhead on his own country which entailed the death penalty on top of the public humiliation and dishonor, he held his head high as best he could still believing that his actions were in the best interest of his country.
In actuality, Matheson was more of a scapegoat, the incident in Oregon and what really happened, the D.E.A.D project as well as any and all records of project Evolution and Sophia would be buried as best as possible excluding the incident on Interstate 10 and memorable battle in Washington, DC seen by many. Despite Big Brother’s reach it was no match for freedom of speech, the vast power of the internet and the thousands that cellphones with video cameras on those days. New conspiracy theories would arise but the government remained silent on all matters except the deeds of the General, hoping that bringing him to justice for his actions would appease the masses…it did not.
The two correctional officers lead the General to the doors of an interview room, a stark stone room with just a long table and four chairs, sitting in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table from him was Mark reading one of the two file folders he had while waiting for him.
The General actually smirked as he took a seat sitting across from him, Mark did not even bother look at him as he kept reading.
“Thanks boys,” motioned Mark, “If you don’t mind waiting outside…this won’t take a moment…”
The officers nodded departing from the room to stand guard outside leaving both the General and him in the room all by themselves.
Mark gave a sigh as he closed up the folders slapping it down on the table now looking at the General with a semi placid smile on his face, “Let me first say thank you very much for giving me an audience…dammit how rude of me…I should first introduce myself…”
“I know who you are Special Agent in Charge Armitage…” nodded the General.
“Yeah well it will be former Agent in two weeks…retiring due to health reasons…you know radiation and me don’t really mix…,” Mark explained looking him dead in the eyes.
“Sorry to hear that…” the General said with an unsympathetic tone.
“Yeah well,” Mark sighed, “I guess I have you to thank for that…”
“What can I do for you Special Agent?” the General asked wishing to get to the point.
“Off the record…was hoping you’d be kind enough to tie up some loose ends for me…,” Mark reopened the file he was looking at.
He took some of the pictures within, and tossed them out in front of the General to see; they were pictures of the General’s lifeless son taken from the crime scene over four years ago. The General spread the pictures out to get a better look at them.
“I just wanted to know what type of cold blooded, heartless; piece of shit son of a bitch orders the brutal execution of his son and then frames his wife for that murder. That on top of placing him in a super death squad,” Mark flat out asked.
General Matheson did not answer him as he just sifted through the pictures looking at his dead son.
“I guess it comes from the same deep dark f’ed up place that would make you go and watch the execution of your ex-daughter-in-law”, he threw out more photos revealing the General entering the Mountain View Unit, and taking a seat on the witness side of the lethal injection room.
“Must have been quite a shock to see the woman you hated so much, who you blamed for the ruination of your son’s military career, resurrect right before your eyes refusing to die. At least I now know how the late Director Rosen and his goon squad knew to show up that day…because you called him,” Mark finished his detective like summation staring into the General’s eyes trying to find what little soul he had left.
“Do you have children Special Agent?” asked the General leaning back in his chair.
“Yes...I do,” returned Mark.
“Then you must know…a parent’s love for a child…and what a parent would do for that child,” the General leaned forward looking him back in his eyes, “I have shouldered two burdens Special Agent…one for family and one for country. My family has served as soldiers for this great country since the Civil War…my son…wanted to be a solider. A proud Marine like I was…and that miserable bitch poisoned his mind instead of knowing her place…made him doubt himself and his duty to his country…my son was dead before he was injured in Iraq…and I as his father tried to breathe life back into him with the D.E.A.D project.”
“So that he could continue your “legacy,” scoffed Mark at him.
“So he could continue the Matheson legacy,” the General forcefully corrected him, “A proud legacy of sentinels chosen to protect this country from all foreign enemies so that your children can sleep peacefully at night.”
“A legacy that was apparently worth the life of your son,” Mark returned unimpressed with the General’s little speech.
“The life of one…is not worth the life of millions…Special Agent,” returned the General; a sliver of emotion filled his eyes as he shifted in his seat, “Not even the life of my own son…”
“I guess that’s where we differ,” Mark returned, “Because I’d rather have the world burn, that give up one of my own flesh and blood…and you’re a lying sack of shit considering you were willing to kill millions all for one person…i.e. why you’re in here.”
“I don’t have to answer to you Special Agent…despite all of “this,” the General looked around as if the facility could not hold him; “I will still be remembered as a soldier who served and defended his country to the end.”
Mark slinked back into his seat, shaking his head in disbelief, to him it was like looking at his former self in a mirror.
He lurched forward grabbing the pictures stuffing them back into the file, “You’re right “General” you don’t have to answer to me…you’ll be answering to the Devil if there is one when it’s time for them to hang your sorry ass. I had a big long final speech I wanted to leave you with, but after looking into your eyes and hearing the garbage out of your mouth. I just realized how pointless it would be…you’re just like me…another stupid old dog with the inability to stop shitting on people’s lives.”
Mark pulled three more pictures for the inside of his jacket tossing them onto the table, a picture of the late Charles Hampton. A picture of the burning wreckage of Kenneth Scott’s SUV Expedition which was blown up with him and his entire family, and finally a badly lobotomized Eric Dunbar forever a living breathing vegetable sitting in a wheelchair.
“And there’s only one road for stupid old dogs like us…the back of a tool shed…thank you for your “time,” having proven his point Mark got up taking the pictures.
He knew that they probably did not stir any form of guilt in his dark twisted soul. He just wanted the monster to see his dirty work, the lives he destroyed trying to secure his legacy.
“Can I ask you something off the record Special Agent?” the General threw out a requested.
“Shoot…” Mark said with a cough.
“My granddaughter…what happened to her…,” the General asked carefully reading him for a reaction.
Mark gave him a cold hard stare, “Dead…accidently killed during the battle in Oregon…”
General Matheson searched his eyes and grinned, “Is that so…”
Mark gave him a “Go screw yourself”’ look.
As he picked up his files and prepared to leave, he went into a mid-turn snapping his fingers as if he forgot something, “Shiiiit! I knew I forgot something…again off the record…a final report just came out on the destruction of the base in Oregon. Now I’m just paraphrasing what the eggheads stated, “Though the force of the energy used for the destruction of the facility was extremely controlled…its destruct
ive power was equivalent or possibly greater than the Fat Man which detonated over Nagasaki…”
Mark let out a light laugh not noticing the General was not finding anything funny about what he was saying, “Ain’t that some shit? She was at an atomic level before she went toe to toe with that warhead…
A cold sweat appeared on the General’s face as he realized what Armitage was getting at.
Mark leaned forward placing his hands firmly on the desk to look the General in the eyes one final time, “The more you hurt her…the stronger she gets…the eggheads gave her a 30/70 survival rate…I’m more incline to say if I were you…I’d pray for the rope to come…before she does…”
On that note, Mark smiled heading for the door.
“It’s been almost two years! Almost two years and no body!” lashed out the General.
“That’s right…two years…and no…body…,” Mark knocked on the door, “Guard…let me the up out of this bitch…”
“That’s because there is no body! The bitch is ashes!!” howled the General, “Burning in hell where she belongs! You hear me?!”
His words fell on deaf ears as the door shut close leaving him alone once again. General Matheson looked down at the table trying to find composure, but he could not stop the trembling, nor could he get rid of the sick feeling that entered his stomach.
“Bitch is burning…in hell…where she belongs…” the General nervously muttered to himself.
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As Mark exited the facility heading to his rental car, his cellphone went off. He quickly pulled it out of his jacket to take it.
“Hi honey,” he smiled, “Yeah tell the girls I’ll be home soon…and bringing ice cream…I’ll be on the next plane in an hour…yeah back at 7 PM…love you.”
Mark closed his cellphone overtaken by another hard cough forcing him to clutch the rooftop of his rental car as he neared it. He pulled out some cough medicine from his pocket opening it up and took a swig to ease his throat. He hopped into his vehicle, and drove off exiting the prison facility.
Before he could turn onto the main road, the sound of thunder overhead forced him to look up. The sound was not of a storm coming; or a jet flying too low…one can easily see it was coming from a human figure streaking across the sky at unbelievable speed in a colorful outfit heading to an unknown destination.
His senses diverted up the road to the sound of something other than a machine tearing down the road at near sonic speed. All he can make out from the blur that streaked past was that he or she was wearing silver and white, and definitely running on two legs. A small sonic boom rocked his rental seconds after the person passed.
“Wait up bitch!!” screamed the speeder chasing the flight propelled superhuman.
A dry smile came across Armitage’s face, “Legacy….”
Mark turned onto the main road, heading back to the airport and home where he belonged. He turned on the radio listening to CNN.
Ashleigh Banfield on from 11 AM to noon began her news report, “Moving from the near crippling financial crisis here in the United States and around the Globe, as the death toll from the Judgment Virus continues to rise worldwide so does the growing superhuman population…many continue to asked the question are these the sign of the times? The end of days? With us are a panel of well known scientists and religious clergy to weigh in on this discussion…”
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Several thousand miles off the West Coast of the United States at the bottom of the Mariana Trench a bright blue glow shined cutting through the blackness, causing all sea life capable of surviving at that depth to flock around it in curiosity.
Massive flounders and shrimp fluttered closed to investigate the clear blue sac that appearance to be a mixture of a jellyfish and an actual embryo sac, only to quickly swim away as they encountered the powerful shockwave of the heartbeat pounding within. In the center of the sac, a young woman with long dreadlocks slumbered curled up in a fetal position. At glanced it appeared as if she was being bathed in the blue energy within, but in truth the energy was emitting from out of her uncontrollably as she slept…the sac meant to protect everything from the outside looking in.
“My name is Sophia Dennison,” whispered a voice, “And I did not kill my husband…”
Eye opens…
In the beginning…
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kipjo K. Ewers was born July 1, 1975. At an early age, he had an active imagination. By the time he started kindergarten he would make up fictitious stories, one of his favorites was about a character named “Old Man Norris”, who hated everyone in the world except for him.
When he attended our Lady of Victory Elementary school in Mount Vernon, he continued writing and reading stories to his classmates. His teacher, Mrs. Green told me the children would laugh but she would remind them that that is how some of the great stories that they read actually came about.
After elementary school, he went onto Salesian High School in New Rochelle, NY then unto Iona College also in New Rochelle.
He would go onto to work for several major firms and companies within the New York area, but his passion was about wanting to become a journalist/writer. Therefore, it is not surprising he decided to write his first book/novel.
Kipjo began working and creating a new superhuman universe, finding inspiration and solace in a personal loss; he began writing a hero origin story now titled “The First”.
He hopes to continue this story as a novel series and as a comic book series in the near future.
Thank you for reading and your support.
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