The flames grew bolder and Johan screamed, the fire on him before he tumbled hard to the container.
"I got a blanket inside! Get it!" Jerry yelled pointing to his van.
Diego latched onto the nearby street pole and used it to steady his dissent to the ground followed by Luc who rushed to the driver's seat. Diego pulled the fabric out and tossed it up.
"We gotta get him to the hospital." Sarah cried clawing at the burnt jacket which clung to raw flesh.
"We can head to U of M." Luc said starting the van. "You can't do that!" Sarah intervened. Her nurse's uniform was littered with spots of dried blood. "I know all too well what they do to their patients there."
"What do you mean? You were at U of M?" Luc asked concerned.
"I worked there!" The woman replied.
"What happened there?" Luc asked, helping the woman to the ground.
"Some men showed up and ran the place right after the attack. We were told to comply by our bosses, we did. They shipped the sick out instead of treating them, I couldn't take it and I tried to leave, me and several others. They began...." She sniffled.
"Can we hear the rest when we're in the car and away from here?" Elena scolded, wanting to get moving.
"I have to get to U of M. My sister is there." Luc said his fear and resolve mounting.
They each escaped the container aiding their new friends to safety before piling inside and Elena took her place in the passenger seat. Luc peeled off down the road, being off his feet was better than anything.
"Thank fucking God! You have no idea how long we been stuck in that death trap." Jerry cheered. "Goddamn towel head terrorist sons of bitches!"
"It wasn't them." Diego chimed in. "I heard a report before reaching the bar, some German group calling themselves Spinne Falle claimed to be the ones responsible. Some militia groups."
"Figures." Luc scoffed. "I've been trying to get coverage on them for years." Luc looked to Elena feeling vindicated. "Care to tell me about this deal you want to make?"
Chapter Four
Michael & Shane
The day was hot and dry; an L.A. summer, the cool breeze blew in from the water and he loved the feeling on his skin. He was handsome and strong, with short dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, late thirties, muscled but not overly so and tall. He dressed in casual jeans and a T-shirt showcasing a California beach as he strode across the lot toward a 1952 Red Ford Sunliner convertible with a smile on his face slapping the papers against his hand in a little rhythm. Once he reached the car, he used them to smack the head of the sixteen-year-old in the front seat with dark hair and eyes like his father. He groaned and straight up in his seat before allowing himself to sink in and lean back. He wore a plain green T-shirt and cameo pants and worn gym shoes.
"Jonathan." Michael said getting in the car.
"Hey." The teen replied sleepy.
"Hey back. Ready to go?"
"Yeah."
Michael steered the vehicle down the cracked sun hued streets.
The ride was awkward and silent. Neither having much to say to the other, the emotional distance between them was wider than the physical.
"We picking up Shane?" Jonathan asked, picking the dirt from his nails.
Michael took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at his son. "Why do I have to pick up Shane?"
"Because my teachers know him and not you." He answered frank and honest.
"What do you mean they don't know me? They know me." Michael scoffed.
"Which teacher you gonna see today?"
Michael fumed, not in the mood for this crap today. He was supposed to be enjoying this small reprieve before the storm, not fighting, yet again, with his son who seemed hell bent on picking one with him. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna question me after failing your classes? I wouldn't even have to go if you didn't need summer school."
"So, you don't know."
"I don't need to know her name." He didn't know what came first, the blaring screech or hunk of metal twisting into them, he couldn't act, only shout his name. "Jonathan!"
Out of nowhere a car slammed hard against the passenger side riddling the vehicle with glass.
The fancy sports car slid hard across the road hitting the rails before coming to a halt.
The doctor placed the bandage on Michael's stitches and a nurse finished with the sling for Jonathan's right arm. Both sported cuts and bruises but showed no signs of any serious injuries.
"Thanks doc." Michael sat up in bed. His arm aching but nothing more.
"Just make sure you take it easy. Consider yourselves lucky."
The doctor and nurse left the two alone, closing the curtain behind them. Michael dragged his fingers through his hair, more worried about his son than himself. "You okay?"
"You asked me a hundred times already. I am." Jonathan nodded annoyed. Shane pulled back the curtains as if he didn't want to disturb the pair, his movements were graceful and considerate of even the inanimate objects around him. His hair was light brown, his eyes a soulful gray, yet his mouth was set and cruel, which caused others to maintain their distance.
"You called him?" Michael turned to Jonathan as though betrayed.
Jonathan got off the bed taking some of the sheets with him. "Yeah." He reached out, hugging Shane who returned the affection.
"When I heard what happened I came here as fast as I could." Shane sighed keeping his focus on Jonathan afraid of looking at Michael, fearful of seeing rejection in his eyes.
"Are you sure you're okay?!"
"Yeah, just take me home." Jonathan said grabbing his cracked phone.
"Wait. What about our weekend? We can still spend time together. Watch a movie or something." Michael protested. He couldn't believe his son wanted to leave so soon. He had no time to spend time with him.
Jonathan rubbed his aching head feeling himself go limp and sitting on the bed to regain himself.
"You're still hurt."
"My head hurts a little."
Michael opened the curtains to snatch the first doctor walking by but could only see the nurses stationed at the nearby desk.
"Nurse! I think my son may have a concussion."
The smiling woman entered once more with a little light. Jonathan huffed not interested in getting another checkup. But complied. "Let me check your eyes. " the nurse flashed a light into Jonathan's eyes. "Yep, you’re concussed. You gotta stay for a few more hours."
"I know the routine for dealing with one, no going to sleep blah blah."
"We’re staying here until you get a clean bill." Michael ordered.
"If you say so, boss." Jonathan sighed.
Shane sat down and Jonathan begrudgingly sat on the bed hating the fuss and wanting to just leave with Shane and go home and relax. Michael looked apprehensive and tired.
Shane searched for words to say, something that wouldn't cause an outburst from the other man in the room, and he felt as though he was navigating a landmine field. "I was worried about you both. " He paused and shifted, gazing out the window. "I almost got into an accident trying to get here."
Michael shifted uneasy before looking at Shane, anger flashing in his eyes.
"Yeah." He gave a short reply just wanting him to shut up.
Jonathan sat up once again done with hearing this same tit for tat again. "I'm gonna go get something from the vending machine."
"Anything could happen. Stay here." Michael said not wanting his son to go, for various reasons.
Jonathan waved in a nonchalant manner. "Already leaving." He closed the curtains behind.
Michael took a deep breath, born out of frustration. "He's such a little shit."
"He's just like you." Shane replied with a smile.
Michael mocked him with laughter. "You didn't have to come, I don't know why he called you."
"I wanted to be here and I'm glad he did. I have a right to know these things."
"You have a right to shit!" Michael spat.
&n
bsp; "I'm his father too."
"Not biologically."
His hurtful words threw the other man off. "You're really gonna throw that in my face? I've been in his life for nine years!"
"You should’ve thought about that before you fucked someone else!"
"How many times do I have to say sorry?" Shane rose from his chair.
"Excuse me gentlemen. Please keep your voices down." The nurse scolded from behind the curtain.
The two men settled down. However, their tempers still flared.
"You want to divorce me? I'll do whatever you want. You've already crashed my car." Shane threw his hands up.
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, the headache coming on hard. They've been through this more times than he could count. The arguing and fighting. But this time he knew he was in the wrong. "I'll pay the damages. I was driving it, I shouldn't have, and I crashed it."
Shane held back his thoughts, he didn't want to fight and cause an even greater rift. "Fine. I'll go. Tell Jonathan I'll pick him up in a few days."
Michael handed him the keys and Shane pulled back the curtains prepared to leave.
"You should take Jonathan home with you." Michael mumbled, his troubled brow furrowed.
"No. You're right. It's your weekend."
Jonathan shook the machine, his mouth watering for the fruit gummies dangling on the rack just waiting to drop into the bin so he could grab it and eat them. However, the machine seemed hell bent on taking his money and keeping the snack for itself.
"Come the fuck on!"
A hand holding the money he needed to purchase another pack of sweets. Jonathan followed the money to the man, a tall guy with blond slick back hair and eyes he hid behind a pair of sunglasses. "For the machine."
"Uh, thanks." He took the money and bought another pack of gummies hoping one would push the other into the bin... now both teased him without mercy. "Shit. I think this place hates me."
The man laughed. "With the money you will make, you can just buy your own vending machine."
Jonathan looked at the other for a moment.
"My name is Kaiser Reiniger." he introduced himself. "I'm a doctor working in gene therapy."
"I see." Jonathan said understanding why he was here. "My blood, you're not the first doc to chase me down. I'm no guinea pig."
"See ya little man and go easy on your dad." Luc rustled the teen's hair before striding by causing Jonathan to laugh at the interruption.
"Tell Hazel I said Happy Birthday!"
"Will do!" Luc held the back of his hand up as he kept moving.
"What did those other doctors offer you?" The doctor tore away from the retreating man and back to Jonathan.
"The most was twenty grand."
"Four million dollars. That's a starting price." The doctor said, his eyes unwavering.
"Jonathan." Shane walked down the hall toward the two men. "Something wrong?"
"You must be the father." Reiniger said directing his attention to Shane. "I'm here to offer your son the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to help many people."
"This is about his blood. He's had plenty of offers, we were assured he would be left alone."
"Dad, he's offering a lot of money, like four million."
"What does your company do?" Shane asked noting his son's enthusiasm.
Reiniger passed him his card, bluish silver and lamented in a hive design. "We may have had a breakthrough in our research, unfortunately I can't say unless you sign an affidavit. However, the need for your son's Rh null type could help us immensely."
"For four mil, I'll do it." Jonathan gave his answer, ready to hop onto the nearest table for extraction.
"Excellent, you will have a comfortable home to live in and you will want for nothing during your stay."
Shane shook his head, wanting to put a stop to this straight away. "You need to speak to your father first."
"Of course." Reiniger nodded. "Contact me when you're ready, but I will only be in Detroit for a short time." He turned and walked away leaving the two men alone.
"I know that look on your face." Shane chuckled. "Speak to your father first."
"I will, I will." Jonathan sighed almost seeing the zeros filling up his bank account. "Leaving?" he asked getting excited. "Let me grab my stuff--"
"You're not coming with me, Jon."
"What?" His face fell. "Why not?"
"Your dad loves you and wants to spend time with you. Let him." Shane brought him in for a hug. "I love you."
"Love you, too."
Chapter Five
Michael opened his eyes feeling the space next to him, missing the warmth of his husband. His scent lingered on the fabric and Michael pulled the sheets over his head and closed his eyes again.
Jonathan rested on the blue leather couch on the open loft living room, he switched channels on the big screen before turning on his console and flipping the apps to Netflix.
"Amazon, play Pull the Pin by Combichrist." He said and waited for the computerized voice to acknowledge his request. He was out of his sling and fixing himself a bowl of cereal when Michael reared his bed head as he languidly walked downstairs in his boxers; groggy, and tired, and sore.
"Amazon, shut up." Michael ordered, his head having enough music for now. "Why don't you have your sling on?" he sat down and grabbed the box of cereal and reached his large hands inside to grab a pile of yellow sugary balls.
"It'll be okay."
"Put it back on."
"It's my arm."
"I don't care!" Michael shouted losing his cool.
Jonathan slipped the sling in place but had no intention of sitting across from his father. "When can I go back to Shane's?"
"Don't you think you should give his parent's a fucking break?" Michael responded, trying to maintain his cool, he wanted to tell him how much he wanted to spend time with him but was afraid it would fall on deaf ears. "You want me to take you back tonight?" He sighed.
"Fuck it." Jonathan shrugged and plopped on the couch to browse movies.
"Why do you want to leave so fucking bad? I have a week's leave..."
Jonathan laughed.
Michael's brow furrowed in confusion. "What’s so funny?"
"Nothin'" The silence lasted for only a moment before he huffed and continued. "What time do we ever spend together? All you do is drink all day. You weren’t home much anyway when we were all living together."
"I've done everything I could to give you a good life. That meant not being home as often as I wanted to."
"I know, and you have, but..."
"But?"
Jonathan pried his eyes away from the screen forcing himself to look at his father across the room. "I know you're stuck with me cause some chick forced herself on you when you were too inebriated to do anything, and she fucking died giving birth to me. I wasn't something you planned..."
Michael's eyes widen after hearing the story he had long since kept hidden. "What?! How the hell do you know that?"
"I'm not a child anymore, I overhear things."
"I am not stuck with you!" Michael struggled to explain, to make him understand. "Have I ever told you or treated you like that? I work hard every day for you because I love you and I want you to have the best life possible."
Jonathan stood and headed to the sink to wash his bowl. His back turned from Michael; he smiled like a devil. "Really?" he said, placing the bowl in the rack.
"Yes!"
Jonathan turned to face his father. "When is Shane coming back?"
"Jonathan." Michael groaned.
The teen folded his arms, standing his ground. "It's a valid question."
"I don't know." Michael hung his head, weary, defeated.
Jonathan studied him, hoping his ploy worked.
Michael stood inept shaking his head unable to form a proper response. "I just don't know." Michael turned his attention from his son to the voice on the other end. He hung up and turned to his son once again taking in
a deep breath, apprehensive as to what to say next.
"Don't even say anything." Jonathan scoffed. "I'll stay here." He knew what was up. Another call, another round of business, that came first, always.
Michael moved to speak but a loud bang off in the distance startled them. The walls shook and living window cracked and threatened to break. Jonathan fell back onto the floor, his heart thumping but before he knew it Michael was there helping him off the floor.
Michael opened the blinds of the large floor to ceiling windows and watched the smoke bellow in a large mushroom cloud in the sky over the horizon.
"What the hell just happened? Did someone drop a bomb?" Jonathan joined his father by the window.
"Jonathan. Listen to me."
The teen grabbed the remote on the couch to turn on the TV. "Dad, something could be on the news." He flipped the channel to the startled reporter on the set.
Michael grabs his phone. "Shane!" He calmed himself once he heard the familiar voice on the other end. "You're coughing, are you okay?"
Jonathan ripped himself away from the screen to focus on the conversation, he watched his father pace about.
"Okay. Listen, we got a job in Detroit.... I don't know... Meet me at the airport, the others should have gotten the call too. I'm gonna drop off Jonathan at your parent's..."
"Wait! I can stay here." Jonathon protested. "Get Nana and Pop Pop to come here."
"The explosion was too close to their area." Michael reasoned. "Okay fine, I'll let you go... and I'm glad you're okay." Michael mumbled the last part before hanging up. He then turned his focus on his son. "I gotta fly to Detroit."
"Is it about the attack? They had several there..."
"Yeah it is."
"Aren't you needed here?"
"I guess not." Michael shrugged quickly packing a duffle bag. “He stood by the door performing a last-minute check of his items including passport just to be sure. "Hey, make sure you stay inside today and wait for your grandparents."
"Yeah." Jonathan nodded.
"I love you." Michael spoke from the back of his throat before working up the courage to say it clearly. "You know I love you, right?"
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