by James Somers
Joseph turned, taking a survey of the lab with its pockmarked walls, glass fragments, and bloodstains. He looked at Michael, shaking his head. “If you say so, Detective.”
•••
Trenton had remained conscious throughout the entire ordeal. He had seen the gunman burst through the door, felt the compression blast, as bullets ruptured the tank of Generation-X Mutagen. He had watched, as Jonathan fell before the barrel of a blazing machine gun, gasping as the green fog of his latest breakthrough filled the room and his lungs. Now, he stared up blankly from behind the oxygen mask, as fluorescent corridor lighting passed above him like broken lines on a highway.
Strangely, he had not been shot. Trenton was glad for it, but Jonathan had probably saved his life—taking bullets meant for him. It doesn’t matter, that kid was weak anyway. The thought startled him, like an intrusive voice unexpected in his head. He was back. A voice that made him feel better about the things he’d done recently—the people he had killed. Not Jonathan—he was family. No, only a sniveling pup. Not a scientist, not a creator like us. With him out of the way you won’t have to share your father’s company. You won’t have to listen to his sheepish opinions about God. We are God, now!
Trenton felt strong again. He always felt strong when he was talking. Trenton felt like taking on the world. Faces appeared in his vision—two men he didn’t know, and Carol. They seemed worried. Trenton heard their voices and the fluttering of beeps—warnings from unseen monitors.
“He’s gone into V-fib!” one man said.
“We’re gonna have to shock him,” another said.
Trenton heard Carol’s shrill voice break through. “What’s happening? What’s wrong? I thought he wasn’t injured in the lab! Do something!”
“Calm down, ma’am,” one man said. “Let us do our job.”
Trenton felt the world begin to slip away. His vision became fuzzy, his mind listless. His other voice caressed his thoughts, wanting him to surrender. We can be so much more powerful than we are now. All we need to do is awaken. Give me control. We could rule the city—rule the world. It was overwhelming and satisfying. Trenton felt a desire to obey the voice completely.
“Clear!”
Trenton squeezed his eyes shut, every muscle in his body reacting to the current traveling through it. His body trembled against the gurney, straining against the canvas straps securing his limbs. When his eyes opened again, he heard Carol Screaming. Trenton realized he was now sitting up. His hands were free of the restraints and covered in blood.
Trenton reacted—no longer in control—a passenger along for the ride in his own body. Blankets, lines, and bottles exploded around him—a volcanic eruption of medical equipment inside the paramedic’s truck. The world beyond the windshield twisted into streaks of light, then two great lights bore down on them. Trenton heard a sound like a cannon blast. He flew forward through the cabin, bouncing off walls, bodies, and anything else caught up within the maelstrom.
•••
Trenton couldn’t tell if he had actually lost consciousness. He was lying on the floor of the paramedic bay, covered in supplies and broken glass. A better survey of the cabin showed him the floor was actually the underside of the roof. Trenton sloughed off the equipment and a body, partially lying across him, in order to stand up. He stepped over the dead paramedic toward the rear doors, smashing them open with a swift kick.
Out in the street, Trenton saw shattered glass, twisted fragments of metal, and pieces of colored plastic strewn in every direction. An Imperial City Transit bus lay on its side, down the road, with the front end smashed in. Bystanders gathered at the scene—some coming from sidewalks, and others from stopped cars.
Trenton examined himself, finding his clothing torn, but otherwise he felt great. He walked around the paramedic truck and found the driver lying dead in the street, along with Carol. “Too bad. I was just beginning to like her,” he said. “You should have let me make you into a god, like me, when you had the chance, Carol.”
Trenton smiled at the carnage. He had survived. That was the most important thing.
“Are you all right, man?” someone asked, approaching from a parked car. He appeared concerned. Trenton simply bowed at the waist to the gathering crowd, like an actor finishing his best performance. Then he turned, running away into the night—laughing.
11 POSTMORTEM
Joseph never thought such a day would come. He pulled into a parking space at the Hilton Morgue and shut off the lights. He slumped forward, placing his forehead on the leather bound steering wheel. Jonathan Hallowed, the young man he had raised from the time of his father’s passing, was dead.
His eyes watered—a vain attempt to cry. Years of special ops training had buried such displays of emotion so deep he didn’t even know how to find them, anymore. While Jonathan was alive, his life had meaning, real purpose—even joy. Now, he felt like there was nothing left.
Joseph had left Jay at Jonathan’s home. The boy was still in shock. Jay often acted like he didn’t want Jonathan’s help, but Joseph saw through the tough guy façade. He was just a scared kid. He needed someone to love and care for him, someone to provide him with direction for his life. Jonathan had been working with the boy for more than a year now. Jay had no one else. It occurred to Joseph, the boy should remain in his care. Yes, Jonathan would have wanted that.
He pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door. It was grim business he had to attend to—a positive identification and signing releases for the body—grim business indeed.
•••
Jonathan gasped for breath, his whole body convulsing—every muscle succumbing to violent spasms. He opened his eyes to pure darkness. He flailed his arms and legs, suddenly aware. His body felt like it was on fire—every nerve ending crying out in pain. He screamed, but the words only came out as raspy coughs.
He remembered the gunman, the bullets riddling his body, and losing consciousness as he choked inside a green cloud of Trenton’s chemical mutagen. Years of Bible study flooded his mind with one horrifying thought—darkness, fire, and pain. I’m in Hell!
Panic seized his senses. “No! I can’t be here! I believe on the Lord Jesus Christ! Lord, help me!”
Jonathan’s arms battered the smooth walls surrounding him. He kicked out with his legs. A wall gave way beneath his feet. Light flood the confines of Jonathan’s netherworld prison. He realized he was not trapped in the dreaded judgment of God. He was lying inside a steel box. Dark, shredded plastic covered his body.
I’m naked, he realized. The heat coming from the opening at his feet, transformed the burning pain into severe cold. Jonathan pushed against the roof. The platform he was lying on rolled out into the room beyond. Jonathan sat up. I’m in some kind of lab, or hospital. He got off of the metal table and saw an entire wall of metal doors with heavy latches. He quickly examined the black plastic hanging on his body. “A body bag—I’m in the morgue.”
Jonathan looked around. The caved in freezer door, he had kicked, dangled from one of its three steel hinges. His vision came and went. He felt disoriented, but knew he had to get out of here. A desk sat on one side of the room with a window high above it. Jonathan leaped across the room and launched off the desk toward the window. He smashed through it, landing on the pavement in the parking lot beyond.
•••
Joseph stepped out of the car and heard the sound of glass shattering a few feet away. He pulled his handgun from his shoulder holster and made his way cautiously around the few cars, in the parking lot, blocking his view. A man stood up in front of him. He aimed. The man’s face caught enough light for Joseph to recognize him. “Jonathan!”
“Joseph?”
Joseph rushed around the car to his side. Jonathan was covered in the shredded, black plastic of his own body-bag. Joseph immediately holstered his weapon and pulled off his wool trench coat. Jonathan let the plastic fall into the parking lot, accepting the warm garment—the familiar smell of his
mentor’s cologne filling his nostrils.
Joseph’s mind raced with every question imaginable, but now was not the time to ask. “Let’s get you into the car,” he said. Jonathan stumbled, as though drugged. That possibility crossed Joseph’s mind as he tried to comprehend what had happened to the young man.
He placed Jonathan in the backseat of the Lexus and got into the driver’s seat. Joseph surveyed the parking lot, then started up the car. Jonathan shivered behind him, looking as pale as a ghost. There’ll be plenty of time to figure this out at home. Joseph calmed his mind, as much as possible, put the car into gear, and pulled away from the Hilton Morgue.
12 REVELATION
Jay and the house staff were presumably asleep already, when Joseph pulled the car into the underground garage. Walking in with a dead man, in the middle of the night, was the last thing Joseph wanted to explain right now. Jonathan had dozed off during the car ride from the morgue. He shuffled along, listless beside the butler, having to lean upon his shoulder for support as they took the elevator up to the main floor of the house.
“Let’s get you into the bathroom, sir,” Joseph said.
Jonathan managed to raise his head. “What happened to me, Joseph?”
The butler pulled him into the bathroom, and leaned Jonathan against the granite, double lavatory. He turned, lowered the toilet seat, and sat the young man upon it. Joseph pulled the shoulders of his overcoat down to get a look at Jonathan’s wounds.
Jonathan tried to sit up straight. “What happened, Joseph?” he asked again.
“I’m not sure yet.” Joseph couldn’t believe what he saw. A dozen bullet holes covered Jonathan’s torso. “This is impossible.”
“What is it?”
Joseph looked into the young man’s eyes. “You were killed, Jonathan.”
Jonathan felt a lump gathering in his throat. “Well, I know I was shot, Joseph, but I’m not dead.”
“I realize you’re not dead…now,” Joseph admitted. “But, you were dead, sir. I checked you myself at the scene. Your wounds were most definitely fatal—no heartbeat, no blood pressure, and you had bled far more than necessary to die. You were dead.”
Jonathan stammered for an answer. “Then how would you explain this?” he said, motioning to himself.
“I can’t,” Joseph said. “What’s more I can’t explain this.” Joseph pointed to the bullet holes strafing Jonathan’s torso. “These wounds are almost completely healed.” He pressed his hand to Jonathan’s chest. “Your heart is beating strong. It doesn’t make any sense to me. It’s impossible.”
“Trenton’s experiment,” Jonathan mused.
“The mutagen he created…you’re right, it must have something to do with the mutagen,” Joseph said.
“We need to get Trenton here.”
“They took him to the hospital,” Joseph remembered. “There’s no telling when he’ll be available.”
“Jay! He could get us into Genetic Corp’s files. Maybe Trenton already knew the mutagen could do this.”
“Do you think we should do this to the boy, sir? He’s been through a lot tonight,” Joseph said.
“I don’t want to call the police yet, Joseph. Not until I know what’s going on and how this all plays into the case the authorities are building against Trenton. I don’t know what else to do. Jay’s a big boy. I think he can handle it.”
•••
Jay sat up in bed, blinked twice, and screamed. The boy leaped from his bed, slamming his back into the wall.
“Jay, it’s all right!” Jonathan sat on the edge of the bed in a green bathrobe. The bedside, table lamp cast an eerie glow on the man.
“You’re dead!” Jay screamed. “I saw that guy gun you down!”
Joseph flipped the light switch, and caught Jay by the shoulders. “Jay, look at me! Jonathan is alive, but we need your help to find out how.”
“What?” Jay remained confused.
Jonathan stood up. “We think Trenton’s genetic mutagen may have regenerated me, somehow.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Jonathan spread his arms. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
•••
Jay sat at his computer, typing faster than Jonathan could follow. “I never would have thought you would have me breaking into the mainframe of a major scientific research facility.” Jay said.
Jonathan stood behind him. “I’m sorry. We’ve got to get some answers, before I risk contacting the police.”
Jay turned abruptly, smiling. “Oh, I’m not complaining. This is my zone. I just didn’t think you would be the one asking me to do it.” He turned back to the keyboard and began working again. Windows flashed on and off the screen, as Jay found necessary menus, and then moved on to others.
“Do you need my password?” Jonathan asked.
Jay grinned. “Your birthday, right?”
Jonathan grimaced.
“You muggles are so predictable,” Jay said. “Just give me a little time and let me work my magic.”
•••
Michael flicked a fountain pen and handed it to Captain Monahan. “Come on, Captain, we’re wasting time.”
“I’m just not convinced this is the way to go with this, Mike.”
“You mean you don’t want to tangle with that lawyer,” Michael said.
Captain Monahan rubbed the back of his balding head. “The thought had occurred to me. That guy is bad news.”
Michael sighed. “Look, Richard and I were both convinced Hallowed was our man before. Now, we have his experimental data, the hit by Ming’s man, and the deaths in this paramedic truck accident. Even the witnesses at the scene said the guy had blood on his hands, a wild look in his eye, and ran off laughing about it all.”
“He could’ve been in shock,” Captain Monahan said.
Michael slapped the pen down on the written order. “He’s our guy, Captain. He’s just like his pet rat in the experiment. I watched that thing kill two anacondas, for Pete’s sake.”
Captain Monahan sighed. He took the pen and signed the order. “Be careful, Mike. If this goes bad, I don’t even know your name.”
Michael smiled, snatching the order off the desk. “Don’t worry, Captain. As crazy as this guy is about his research, he’ll show up, and we’ll be waiting for him.”
13 GENERATION X
“I’m in!” Jay crowed.
Jonathan turned up a soft drink and finished it. “It’s about time.”
Jay put on his best wounded face. “Can you hack into this system? Can you hack into any system—oh wait; I forgot I was talking to the dead guy.”
Jonathan joined him at the computer. “Formerly the dead guy, thank you very much. What have you got?”
Jay scrolled through a menu of documents pertaining to the Generation X Mutagen. “Here’s one called Physiologic Regeneration,” Jay said, clicking the icon. They scanned the report, written by Trenton himself.
Jay sat back in his chair, tapping his chin with his finger. “If I’m reading this right, Trenton’s test animals became super strong, with much faster reflexes. They also became uncontrollable and highly aggressive, until each one had to be destroyed.”
“I’m impressed,” Jonathan said. “How’d you learn to interpret this kind of data as a high school dropout?”
“Lots of Star Trek and an addiction to Wikipedia,” Jay said, leaning forward to examine the screen. “Hey, check this out. It looks like Trenton had trouble keeping the test animals down. He tried injecting them, even gassing them to death, but they recovered almost every time. He finally had to cremate them.”
“Then it seems we have our answer as to what happened to you, Jonathan,” Joseph said from the shadows. “There’s something else, I’m afraid.”
Jonathan saw the cell phone in his hand. “What is it?”
“I called the hospital, in hopes of speaking with Trenton. The ambulance never arrived with him.”
“What do you mean? What happened to him?”
Jonathan lowered his face into his hands. “What happened to Trenton?”
“Eyewitnesses told police Trenton bowed to them, grinning like the Devil himself, and then ran off, laughing hysterically.”
“What did you tell Stamos?” Jonathan asked.
“The truth—I haven’t seen Dr. Hallowed since the shooting at the lab,” Joseph said. “He did ask me how I was doing and expressed his regret for your death. Of course, I didn’t mention your unexpected recovery.”
Jonathan might have smiled, after all he was glad to be alive, but evidence continued to mount against Trenton. The mutagen had transformed the lab animals into super versions of themselves, virtually unable to die. What had it done to Trenton? “I think we had better keep searching these files for as much info as we can get,” Jonathan said. “Did Detective Stamos say what they plan to do now?”
Joseph pulled up a chair, with Jonathan, behind Jay. “He didn’t say, but apparently Genetic Corp has been shutdown indefinitely, pending this investigation.”