by Milt Mays
Alexis stood and stared at Jabril. Her eyes were shining wet green rocks. “I don’t need her. I’m with you.”
She turned her gaze on Rachel and her face was transformed into a gargoyle, fangs bared and eyes red coals.
Jabril laughed: a haughty, dark belly laugh that filled the Plexiglas room like suffocating smoke. His face changed. He lifted it to the sky and howled a low eerie sound that made Rachel want to run away, leave and never come back.
Alexis faced him and howled, too. There were two Jabril’s now, whatever he was, and one was her daughter. Rachel wanted to grab the gun and kill Alexis. She had the cancer of Jabril and was lost. Jesus no. She was like him, her baby a monster. Rachel wanted to hold her, squeeze her, whisper she loved her in her ear and to come out of this trance. Surely that was all it was: some kind of hypnotic trance.
Jabril spoke to Alexis, “Yes, you see, don’t you.” His voice had returned to the haughty, deep monotone. No meekness there. Only gloating.
He manhandled Rachel under his arm and they were out of the room, through the wall, and moving toward the ranch house at a speed she had never experienced without a windshield. They sped past the truck. Dan’s feet were visible on the ground by the passenger side. He leaned out and looked around the door at them as they ran by. Jabril turned his head and slowed, then continued on. He’d seen Dan, but didn’t care. That was good.
The walls of the ranch house were different from the outbuildings. They exploded like real wood when Jabril and Alexis hit them at full speed. He protected Rachel, except for one long splinter that dug into her thigh. More pain. She would have screamed, but who cared? Not Jabril. Not Dan, the dweeb. Not her daughter, the new bride of Frankenstein. No one.
But Alex lived. There was hope.
So instead of screaming, she willed her body to become numb. What was coming would likely be much worse than she had ever felt before.
Jabril stopped, so she stood and looked around. They must have broken through into a small breakfast nook. Metal ladder-back chairs and an aluminum table were helter-skelter from Jabril’s break-in. In front of them to the left was a dark room with two walls of blinking computers and electronics and a door at the far end. All other walls were white. To the right of this open room, separated by a wall, looked like a kitchen, with an island counter and sink in the center. On the left wall, between the kitchen and the electronic room, was a kitchen-like counter with cabinets above. All appliances, cabinets and countertops gleamed in shiny stainless steel. In back, below and above the cabinets, the floor, walls, and ceiling dazzled in white; white as the experimental mice; white as bleached bones in a cold polar desert.
At the near end of the left kitchen counter was a computer cubbyhole with a large flat-screen monitor sitting on a shiny metal work area, a straight-back chair pushed in, nice and neat. There was a walkway at the far left of the kitchen to the computer room. Stainless cabinets lined the far wall. The right wall held a refrigerator in the back, then sink, then oven and stove nearest them. Matching stainless appliances, countertops and cabinets. How nice and tidy and sterile. There were even shiny stainless robots scurrying around, blocky things no higher or wider than a three-year-old child. Cute little R2-D2s hummed like bees, plugged telescoping arms into ports on various computers or appliances for a few seconds; red lights on top blinked; the cute little robots unplugged and scurried on, oblivious to Jabril having just destroyed the wall to the nook.
Two men came at them: one from the electronics room, a direct approach, the other also from that room but via the distant left entrance to the kitchen, flanking them to the right, around the island. They wore matching green fatigues, carried the same M4s of the soldiers in the outbuilding. Alexis, the one who could change the world with her love, made one quick long jump to the left and sliced one soldier’s head off with long claws, then bolted into the kitchen and caught the other behind the island. He got off three rounds that pinged off the metal cabinets behind her before she drove claws under his jaw. Instant flaccidity.
Both kills were very humane; Rachel gave her that. But Alexis had never killed people before. She had always used love to change their minds. And she had never had claws. Oh God. Her daughter was lost. Had Jabril already raped her? It had only taken minutes for him to rape Rachel, so why not Alexis. Rachel felt her body wilt, shrivel, become as meaningless as a rock.
It was easier to feel nothing. Yet the ache in her left shoulder had become a live thing, eating at her entire side. Jabril’s stab wound became her focus. She concentrated on the pain, gritted her teeth, felt rage mounting. She would not cry. Death was not an option.
She had to save Alexis. Something wrong with her. Couldn’t be lost. Had to find the answer. Deal with it! Get into the Ambrosia computer. Find the answers and help Alexis. Jabril would be watching her, though. He knew little about genetic sequencing but likely knew a lot about computers and simple passwords. She would have to be careful. No more reckless.
Jabril pulled out the straight-backed metal chair at the computer cubbyhole and motioned for her to sit. She did and put her fingers on the keys. The computer screen was huge. How to get in? But she already knew. Had been there many times in D.C. Many times. But if it was not merely DNA codes? If there were nanotech coatings and secrets, she would need Dan. God help her—not again.
She punched keys and waited. A voice emitted from the computer speakers. “Hello, Rachel. Glad you could make the party.” The screen filled with a face Rachel had hoped she would never see again. He smiled—attractive and seductive, nauseating at the ugly malevolence of the man Rachel knew . . . and always, always a cocky son-of-a-bitch. White eyebrows were the only clue to the man’s age. His pate was bald and his hard face all sharp angles, shaved smooth. The scar that Jabril had left still ran across his right eyebrow and cheek, canting his smile into a sneer. The blue eyes shone—beacons of charismatic leadership that had won the hearts and minds of his soldiers and the D.C. politicians. General Joseph Patton Hanson, the man who had put Jabril in the deep freeze fifteen years and seven months ago, still appeared as vibrant as ever.
Chapter 59
Jeff recalled a time he’d lain on the ground, pretending to be dead, or at the very least mortally wounded. Most of it was vague. But what he did remember was trying not to breathe. Like now. Not only did he want to appear dead, but the pain of breathing ripped angry shards from his left side. The only thing that kept him from screaming was his lips pressed together against the ground.
He lay behind the cover of a cage and thought he could scoot forward enough to venture a tiny, hopefully imperceptible, opening of his right eye. A mere glimpse, but enough—Jabril, Rachel and Alexis. Jabril was merely a skinny Arab. Jeff could take him.
He tried to move. His chest shot pain into the center of his mind. God . . .
There was a time gap. Darkness and, no pain for . . . How long? Another peek with his right eye. They were gone. But words echoed not far, seeming to come from behind him, where his legs were, but like they were in an empty room, no furniture, only floors and walls to bounce their words. He wanted to move his legs away from the voices, yet he had to lay still and avoid breathing except for very shallow puffs. Jabril might think him dead unless he really studied Jeff. He would see no bleeding and probably realize Jeff had been wearing a bulletproof vest. And if he saw Jeff breathe, it would be all over. The next gunshots would be to the head.
“I don’t need her. I’m with you.” It was Alexis, but a weird voice, like she’d had a sex change. What did that mean? She must have said it to Rachel. Her own mother? That was not like Alexis. Then came the low howls, two animals joined in a dissonant harmony as spine-tingling as it was beautiful. Jabril’s haughty laugh, his robotic voice, “Yes, you see, don’t you.” Why would he say that to Alexis?
Running sounds, moving away . . . silence.
Don’t look up yet. Wait. There were faint sounds of scuffling or dragging. Was Jabril still there, waiting, watching? Jeff’s legs f
elt like steaks in front of a hungry lion. He had to keep them still. Concentrate on something else. Count to three hundred. Five minutes had to be enough. People would wait and watch someone for one or two minutes, but by three, most were done. By four, they were all too antsy to hold still. Unless they were a trained sniper. At least that’s what one of his buddies had told him when he was in the Army. Didn’t sound like Jabril was a trained sniper.
The RX-7 ticked, the engine cooling. There was a smell of burning oil. At three hundred and one, he jerked his head up and rolled over at the same time, hoping to present a moving target. Not that it would really do him any good. He had no gun.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Shit! Jabril had been behind him the whole time. A trained sniper. He snapped his head around and put his arms over his face.
“Easy, Jeff. It’s me, Alex.”
Jeff let his arms fall and let out a huge breath, winced at the pain in his chest, then frowned as he looked over Alex. “Are you okay? Jabril shot—”
“Not bad. Yeah, luckily they weren’t hollow points. Went in my left thigh, out, hit nothing vital.”
Alex stared at the entrance bullet hole on the left side of Jeff’s shirt. “He got you, too.”
Jeff pulled down the front of his shirt revealing the bulletproof vest.
“Why didn’t I think of that? You soldiers are pretty smart.” He grinned.
“Still bruised the shit out of my chest. Broke at least one rib, I think. Hurts like a mother to breathe deep.”
Jeff stood. “Let’s go. He’s got Alexis and Rachel.”
“Yeah, I know. But hold on a minute. We need to think this out. I overheard Jabril tell Rachel we weren’t dead. Why’d he leave us alive?”
“Look. That dude was only a weak-assed Arab. Without a gun, he’s toast.”
“You haven’t seen his full form yet. He changed after you were down. Did you hear them howl?”
“Yeah. Weird. Reminded me of that movie my dad liked, Hound of the Baskervilles.” He paused. “So he’s really like a werewolf, or Wolverine or something?”
“Yeah. Something like that. Or nothing even close.”
“From what Alexis told me, we should both be lacking large hunks of brains and skull, ready for rat food.” He glanced around. “Or fanged mice food. This place gives me the creeps.” The fanged mice were clambering around their cages, hissing and attacking each other.
“Something happened to Alexis, too.” Alex’s gaze dropped to the floor, eyes darting back and forth as if searching for an answer in the dirt.
Jeff looked at the dirt and noticed what appeared to be spilled grain mixed with . . . Was that milk? And then he saw a container of milk nearby. He felt thirsty and hungry.
“Yeah,” Jeff answered. “She sounded weird. Not like her at all. I heard he can get into your head. You think he was hypnotizing her or something? She kinda did that to me a few times, but maybe he’s too strong for her.”
Alex looked even more puzzled. “He is strong, but . . .” He closed his eyes and seemed to go into a trance.
Jeff waited. Alex’s right mid-thigh had a dark red blossom with a bullet hole in the center. Should have shattered Alex’s femur, maybe cut the major artery. He craned his head to see behind the thigh. A little blood, but not soaked. And Alex stood on it like it was as solid as ever.
Jeff shifted on his feet. Alex, Alexis, Jabril: all too weird. They were human, yet not. His stomach growled. How long had it been since he’d eaten? He walked to the milk container and picked it up, sniffed at it. Smelled okay, even fresh. He took a tentative swig. Good. He swallowed gulps. Wiped his mouth. A container of grain was half empty, on its side, but enough in the container for a good breakfast. A spoon would be better for his cereal and milk, but this would do.
He grabbed a handful of the grain and tasted it. Crunchy, nutty. Swig of milk, mouthful of grain. Not bad. Nothing like fresh food. He was all human. Had to eat when he was hungry. He looked at Alex. Not like these . . . whatever they were.
Glancing around, he wondered if this place was part of Realfood. Maybe a storage shed for what they grew. The mice, though. What was with those fangs and hissing? Maybe there was some fruit. There was a room enclosed by glass or a clear polymer behind Alex. A computer screen glowed on the table. Maybe that was where Jabril had been with Alexis. But where the hell had they gone?
Alex breathed very deeply and opened his eyes. “I can’t find him. Usually we have a clear connection, but it’s too vague now.” He studied the walls. “Maybe it’s these biological walls. Some kind of magnetic—”
He stopped abruptly as his gaze came back to Jeff. “Did you eat that stuff?”
Jeff was still crunching a few grains. He swallowed. “Yeah. Pretty good. You hungry?”
“Don’t eat any more. That’s GMO food. I don’t know how safe it is.”
“Pretty tasty. How could it be bad? You should try it.”
“That’s how they get you hooked. It tastes so good you want more. Pretty soon that’s all you want. You forget what real food tastes like. Imperfections of the real thing are not as good. But they’re better in the long run. Trust me.” He smacked the container of milk out of Jeff’s hand and slapped at his fist full of grain. The milk covered and seeped into the spilled grain and dirt at their feet, and a trail of white leaked into one of the mice cages.
“Wait a sec,” Jeff started to get another handful of grain, then noticed the werewolf mice in the cages. Some of the milk had spilled inside. They licked and slurped the milk like pigs on speed; the first to the food grew larger before Jeff’s eyes, now as big as rats. They defended their territory of food with vicious slashes of their fangs, bloodying and killing any others that got close. The blood seemed to enrage them more and they began consuming the fresh-killed mice. Tiny groans and slurps mixed with a nauseating chattering against bones.
“Jesus,” Jeff said.
“Let’s get out of here. These walls are hiding something. Come on.”
Jeff started walking toward the walls. “I don’t see any doors.”
“Think of it this way. I’m the tailback; you’re the ball; the goal line is on the other side of the wall.”
Alex wrapped an arm around Jeff’s waist, lifted him like he was a small child, and ran at the wall. Jeff covered his head with his hands. This was going to hurt.
Way more than weird. It started as a small electric charge, like those violet wands with electrical tingling he’d tried once in high school, the ones for sexual pleasure. Alex stepped through the wall quickly after some initial resistance, then pulled Jeff through like a fireman pulling someone through a tight window by his waist. The tingling enveloped him, starting at his butt, then moved up his back and down his legs, until it wrapped around the nape of his neck and his ankles. He got stuck at the nape of his neck and felt a vibration in his brain. Whoa. Erotic. Alex pulled firmly on his waist and pelvic bones. All Jeff could think of was loving Alexis. Over and over. He popped out the other side with a raging hard-on.
Alex gently let go of him and Jeff lay on his side, in a semi-fetal position. “Wow!”
“What?” Alex said.
Jeff sat up. The wall looked different from the outside, almost exactly like tin, but there was a shimmer. The shimmer reminded him of the tingle at the junction of his skull and neck. He wanted to stick his head back in to feel that one more time. “Nothing. That was some rush, though.”
Alex was already walking away. “It’ll be better with Alexis.” He turned his head and caught Jeff’s eye. “If we can save her. They’re in that ranch house. I can feel Jabril again.”
“I thought you weren’t going to read my mind without my permission.”
“Just wanted to know if you felt what I felt. Pretty distracting. But we gotta get going.”
A VW van stood before them with the doors open. Behind it was a pickup truck with a camper, Alex’s camper. Sleet peppered Jeff and he shivered. He zipped his camouflaged jacket all the way up an
d pulled the hood over his head.
Jeff stood, adjusting his flaming hard-on. “I’m coming.” Well, not quite. He thought of those cannibal mice and deflated. At least he could walk easier.
A queasy feeling started in his stomach. Maybe a side effect of the wall? He trudged forward. The wet dirt stuck to his soles, like walking on cake icing, a little more each step. Not like the sunny warm day he’d left an hour ago. Colorado in the spring.
Alex stopped at the truck. He looked inside the open passenger door and his eyes spelled trouble. Someone mumbled inside.
His dad stuck his head around the door frame, a black laptop in his lap. “Jeff?” When he saw Jeff, he stood and the laptop fell. Alex caught it before it hit the ground.
“You’re okay!” He scrambled out of the truck to Jeff. They embraced. Jeff enjoyed the hug from his dad who never gave them, yet he felt nauseous.
“I thought you were dead,” Dan said, pushing away, looking him up and down.
“I’m okay. Had a vest on, or I’d be toast, though. We’re going in to get Alexis and Rachel.” He wanted to tell his dad how much he loved him, how much he missed him, but queasy gave way to rolling and ready to heave.
Dan did one of his classic pinched-face looks.
“What?”
“You can’t go in there,” Dan said. “We are in a world of shit. The General is in on it.”
“The General?”
Alex put a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “I’ll need you here. You haven’t got a gun, so maybe you can help your dad or Sam in the back. You come with me and I’ll have to protect you. Can’t be doing that and save Alexis and Rachel. If you know anything about computers, help Dan. He’s trying to—”
Jeff vomited. It came out in gushes. Bright red gushes.
Chapter 60
“Where’s Alex, Rachel?” The General’s voice boomed with crystal clarity, no change from fifteen years ago. And sent the same feelings of seeing maggots writhing on garbage. Why was he here? Of course: the reason Alex had remained hidden in the Sierras all those years. The General wanted Alex so he could make a better soldier. He finally had him, along with Jabril.