Exodus

by R. J. Wolf

“What time is it?”

  “Six…in the morning. The early bird catches the worm.” Mit laughed.

  “Yeah, okay I’ll meet you there.”

  Steve hung up the phone and stared into nothing. The last week they’d been meeting at Mr. Clark’s house every free minute they had. They still hadn’t made sense of any of the information they’d stolen. And to make matters worse Mikey was sure they were all being followed.

  Steve sighed and started to get dressed. He pulled on his shoes and paused at the sound of a knock at his door.

  “Steve, you awake?”

  “Yeah mom.”

  Mrs. Hanson poked her head in the door and smiled.

  “I thought I heard you rustling around in here. I just wanted to let you know we’ll be having company this week.”

  Steve grunted and rolled his eyes. “Mom really? I’m not up for entertaining Aunt Michelle’s tribe.”

  Mrs. Hanson pushed the door open and stepped inside. She sucked her teeth and put her hands on her hips.

  “Stephen Hanson the third! You will not speak about your aunt that way; and she’s not coming over anyway.”

  “Thank god.” Steve mumbled under his breath.

  “It’s your dad’s brother. Uncle Robert. You’ve never really met him and he’d like to see you.”

  “Uncle Robert…did you just make that up?” Steve rolled his eyes.

  “You’re unbelievable Stephen. When he gets here your little fit of amnesia better be gone. I expect you to be present and on your best behavior.”

  “Okay, okay I’ll be here. Is that it?”

  Mrs. Hanson sighed and looked around the room. “Clean this pigsty!” She snapped and then stormed out.

  Steve grabbed his keys and followed her out of the door. He darted past her as she walked into the kitchen and ran out of the front door before she could say anything else.

  When he pulled up at Mr. Clark’s house Mit and Mikey were already downstairs. Mrs. Clark was in the kitchen baking. She handed him a muffin and smiled as he walked in.

  “Thanks Mrs. Clark.” Steve grinned.

  Stepping through the wooden door in the wall, he walked into the dimly lit cut out and headed down the stairs.

  “About time.” Mikey yelled as the wood creaked under Steve’s weight .

  “Yeah, well some of us like sleep.”

  Mit and Mr. Clark were hunkered over a table. Mit held a soldering iron in his hand and was trying to piece together the laptop that had been smashed. Mr. Clark looked on, tinkering with the circuit board while humming to himself.

  “Hey, you can give me a hand over here.” Mikey called out.

  He was on the floor with a crowbar trying to pry open the silver aluminum case. Steve rolled his eyes and snatched the crowbar from him.

  “Give me that thing amateur.”

  Steve knelt next to the case and jabbed the bar into the panel that had been designed for someone’s thumb print. The glass that covered it shattered and the panel fell to the ground.

  “Good job. You broke it.” Mikey said with an unimpressed look.

  “Shut up and wait.”

  Steve turned the case upright and slid the crowbar into the crack where it closed. With a quick flip of his wrist he snapped the bar to the left and the case fell open.

  “Voila!” Steve exclaimed.

  “Come look at this Mr. Clark.” Mikey yelled back as he rummaged through the open case.

  It was full of DVD’s and folders stuffed with pictures. Mikey picked up a disc and examined it. It was labeled “Subject 331 compound A2.”

  “Let me see that.” Mr. Clark said as he yanked it away from Mikey. “Mit, wheel over the television.”

  Mit quickly pushed a cart over that shelved a little flat screen connected to a DVD player. Mr. Clark opened the case and put the DVD in and pressed play.

  The screen was fuzzy at first, but then started to display what looked like some type of home movie. A short gray haired man in a lab coat was standing in front of the camera in what looked like an operating room.

  “This is Dr. Heizwick. We are now delivering compound A2, to subject 331.” He said as he scribbled onto a clipboard.

  Dr. Heizwick slid his hands into his lab coat and eagerly rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. He smiled at the camera as it panned around taking in the rest of the room.

  “Yes yes, do capture the subject as well.” Heizwick grinned.

  Behind him there was a body stretched out across a table. The camera slowly circled around revealing a young boy, no older than thirteen. His body lay limp, strapped down to the metal table with leather bands and chains. He had needles jabbed into him at what looked like random intervals with tubes attached to the ends running into a square case at the end of the table.

  Suddenly he sprung to life, twisting and turning. “Please! Please don’t. Just let me go home. I swear I won’t tell anyone.” The boy pleaded, crying out at the top of his lungs.

  “Silence child!” Heizwick yelled back.

  He stared at the boy with a look of pure disgust, like his very presence was repulsive. Shaking his head he walked to the end of the operating table and pressed a large red button on the top of the square case. There was a loud pop and then a suction noise like air in a vacuum.

  A dark brown fluid started to ooze through the tubes and down into the needles. The boy flinched and pulled away as the cloudy solution neared his arm. It felt cold as it seeped into his veins, but almost immediately grew warmer and warmer.

  The doctor looked on curiously, tapping on the clipboard with a pen. The boy twisted and spasmed, the solution burned like a hot iron. Suddenly his head snapped back and a white beam of light shot from his eyes.

  Mikey stepped away from the TV and looked at everyone else. He knew they were all thinking the same thing. They also knew someone whose eyes lit up. Slowly he looked back to the TV, his face covered with concern.

  The doctor on the video grinned. He moved closer to the table with a greedy smile on his face. Rubbing his hands together, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

  “Don’t fight it boy. I promise it’ll only make it worse.”

  The boy clenched his hands tightly as every muscle in his body tensed. He grinded his teeth and then exploded into a scream that seemed to vibrate the room.

  Dr. Heizwick staggered backwards, covering his ears. He fell against the wall, his face squenched in pain. Suddenly the door burst open and an enormous man charged through.

  “Everything alright in here?” He said turning to the doctor who had retreated to the corner.

  “Hanson, get out of here you twit. If there is ever a time you are needed certainly someone will beckon you.” The doctor shot his hand out pointing at the door.

  Hanson sneered at him. He made a slight movement towards Heizwick, then turned and stormed out of the room. Once the door swung closed, Heizwick dug into his pockets and pulled out a pair of ear plugs. He quickly stuffed them into his ears and turned back to the table.

  The boy was still cringing in agony. He jolted and shook on the table; an unimaginable cry poured from him like his soul was on fire.

  Steve squinted at the screen. It was hard to watch, hard to see such a young kid in so much pain. Mikey had already turned away from the television and was tinkering with the broken case.

  Heizwick seemed to have no remorse it was as if he didn’t even view the boy as human. He looked on in anticipation with eager eyes.

  “The compound is speeding up the process.” Heizwick yelled over the boys screams. “All levels seem stable, although it has agitated the subject more than expected.”

  “What…what are they doing to him?” Steve mumbled, his face riddled with confusion.

  “There’s more in the case. Look at these photos.” Mikey said as he fumbled with the other documents that were on the floor.

  Mr. Clark took a page from him and examined it. It had four separate pictures labeled A through D across the front. The fi
rst was a picture of a young girl strapped to a table just like the boy in the video. The next photo showed her body twisted and contorted in pain. The last photo showed her lifeless body with empty eyes staring at the ceiling.

  “This…this is not right.” Mr. Clark mumbled. He dropped the papers and turned back to the video.

  The boy was no longer screaming and the light from his eyes had vanished. His hands were gnarled and twisted, his face contorted in pain. With a snap of his head and a crackling sound, his body started to morph.

  Steve couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The boy’s eyes thinned like a cat and his skin darkened to a deep blue. His entire body seemed to grow. His muscles rippled and bulged as they watched.

  “He’s like Anthony.” Mikey mumbled.

  The boy’s fingers stretched into claws, his hair started to turn a bright red. He pulled at the straps and then suddenly his body started to spasm.

  He screamed again, the pain in his voice was palpable. Mr. Clark looked away from the television and grimaced. His eyes started to tear up and he wiped at his face and sighed.

  The boy gagged, his chest pumped up and down like a hummingbird. He coughed and blood spattered into the air like a fine mist.

  “No...no! Just a little longer.” Heizwick screamed.”

  Mikey watched the television in horror. The boy shook violently, his body cringing from the seizures. Blood ran from his nose and puddled to the floor. Then in one long drawn out breath, the very life exhaled from his body.

  Dr. Heizwick looked down at the boy with empty eyes. For a split second he seemed remorseful. He shook his head and sighed.

  “Pathetic.” He mumbled and then turned towards the camera. “Compound A2… unsuccessful.”

  Mr. Clark pressed the off button on the television and slowly turned to face the boys. They were all staring at him with a look of sick desperation. He knew no amount of words could explain or erase what they’d just seen. Even worse he knew that this was the fate that awaited Anthony, if it hadn’t already.

  “I think we’ve had enough for one day. You boys go on home.”

  Mikey looked back to the pile of photos and papers on the ground. He started filing through them at a feverish pace. “There’s gotta be something else here. Something to help us find him.”

  Steve knelt next to him and grabbed a stack of pictures. Mit grinned at Mr. Clark and then went back to the table and started to tinker with the laptop.

  “Come on Mr. Clark, we’ve got work to do.”

  Sighing, Mr. Clark slowly walked back to the table and picked up the soldering iron. “Catalog the rest of those DVD’s Mikey. I’ll go through them later.”

  Mikey nodded and started to stack the DVD’s in a pile. Steve rifled through the folders, each one containing pictures of a different “subject.”

  “They’ve been at this for a while. What are they trying to do?” Mikey whispered.

  “Hopefully we’ll find some answers when we piece together this laptop.”

  For the next several hours Steve went through folder after folder. They were like portfolios on each person they’d ever killed. They had the subject number, the age, the sex and how long they’d been there. No one seemed to last more than a few months except a group of three that were there for several years.

  Over one hundred kids had been subjected to the same experiments and every one had failed. Steve could only imagine what else was on those DVD’s.

  “What’s this?” Mikey asked as he tossed a folder to Steve.

  He opened it and thumbed through the pages. Each one was labeled “Genesis Project.” Where the other folders had pictures with each file, this one didn’t. The top right corner still read subject number, but other information had been completely redacted. The only thing Steve could make out was the length of time each subject had been detained.

  “Mr. Clark, this can’t be right can it?” Steve asked as he handed Mr. Clark one of the packets. “One hundred years?”

  Mr. Clark looked through the pages with confusion drawn over his face. They’d obviously been copied from a much older document. In the left corner was a section that listed very plainly “Inception Date.”

  As he thumbed through each page, his father’s research seemed to make more and more sense. 1910, 1893, dates that were normally reserved for bottles of wine.

  “This has been going on much longer than we thought.” Mr. Clark closed the folder and sighed. “It’s time I show you something else.”

  Mr. Clark walked to a cabinet and pulled out a small black box. He sat it on the table and opened it up. Inside there was a large tinted flask full of a swirling liquid.

  “What is that?” Mit looked on curiously.

  “My father called it Zaspar. His notes said it’s some kind of defense against spectrals.”

  Mikey and Steve joined them next to the table and peered into the box.

  “So that kills them?” Steve asked eagerly.

  “No…No I don’t think so. But I don’t think they are very fond of it either. I managed to decode some of the things my father was working on. Not much of it made sense, but he made sure he had stock piles of Zaspar. He seemed to think it’d come in handy sooner than later.”

  Mikey picked up the jar and examined it. The flask was warm to the touch and had the faint smell of sulfur. The liquid inside had a reddish hue and sparkled under the light.

  “Careful with that. I’m not sure what affect it would have on us.” Mr. Clark said as he reached for the glass.

  “This is all just crazy. Aliens and magic potions, people trying to kill us.” Mikey paced the length of the floor.

  “The world has never been what it seems. You’re just starting to see that. It can be unsettling.”

  “Mr. Clark!” Mit screamed. “It’s up.” He pointed at the laptop as it started to load.

  Mr. Clark sat the Zaspar back in the case and walked over to the table where the laptop was humming along. An LSK emblem popped onto the screen as it started to go through its system checks.

  Mr. Clark smiled from ear to ear. “Great job! Mitchell you’re a genius.”

  He pulled the laptop closer, waiting for it to load. Steve and Mikey looked over his shoulder wondering what they might find once they were in. Mr. Clark cracked his knuckles and leaned back.

  A login screen popped up and Mr. Clark smiled. “This shouldn’t take me long.”

  He tapped on a few keys and a red X flashed on the screen. Rubbing his chin he smiled and tried something else. Nine attempts later he sighed and walked away from the desk.

  “We’re gonna need some help getting in here.”

  VII

  Anthony hit the ground with a thud. His body pulsed with pain. He let out a gasp of air and moaned.

  “I’m gonna miss kicking you around.” Hanson smirked.

  He pressed his foot on Anthony’s throat and smiled at him. “I hope I’m there when they do it. Never seen your kind go through something like that. I hear it’s plenty painful.”

  He forced his boot harder against Anthony’s neck. Anthony tried to pry his shoe off, but he was too weak. He struggled for air as he hissed and coughed.

  “Pathetic!” Hanson spat.

  He kicked him then turned and walked out of the cell. Anthony rolled to his side and sucked in the warm rotten air. His entire body shuttered in pain. Sweat dripped down his forehead, the sensation alone was almost unbearable.

  “You did well.” A voice called out.

  Anthony immediately recognized it as Daviathan. Breathing hard he dragged himself across the floor and sat back against the wall.

  “They almost killed me.” Anthony mumbled.

  “But they did not.” Daviathan calmly responded.

  “I…I know I’m not normal.” Anthony started. “I change.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling Daviathan this. Aside from his friends he’d never told a soul, but for some reason he went on.

  “When I get angry something takes control of me. I can’t h
elp it.”

  “You will in time.” Daviathan said.

  “Do you know what I am?”

  “Ah, it is you that declared yourself a human. You no longer hold to this fantasy?” Daviathan laughed.

  “You said humans can’t use amorphos, what is that?” Anthony asked.

  Daviathan giggled. “You think we are speaking to one another don’t you? You think you can hear me? How old are you boy?”

  “I’m…I think I’m seventeen. I’ve kinda lost track of time.”

  “Seventeen what?” Daviathan’s voice suddenly sounded very serious.

  “Seventeen years old.”

  “That, that can’t be.” Daviathan said in disbelief.

  “Amorphos, what is it?”

  “It is the elementals way of communicating among other things.” Daviathan quickly responded. “The cells, your cell, they are contained in what you might call separate dimensions. The doors all access the same facility, but there is no telling exactly where you are once you step inside.”

  Anthony didn’t respond. He was trying to make sense of what Daviathan was saying.

  “You think you are speaking out loud?” Daviathan asked.

  Anthony rubbed his head in confusion. “I am.” He said, but this time he noticed that his mouth didn’t move. Anthony gasped and lunged backwards banging his head into the wall. Throwing his hand over his mouth he thought the words, “Can you hear me?”

  “Of course I can.” Daviathan responded his voice as loud as if he were standing in the room with Anthony.

  “How, how are we doing this?”

  “You are an elemental and a very unusual one at that. These changes when you’re angry, what are they?”

  “I’m stronger. I can move things with my mind. I’m not sure about everything else, I kind of black out.”

  “This is peculiar indeed. Certainly for one so young, but it is not unheard of. And your age, you’re certain that you are seventeen?”

  “I guess, maybe sixteen. I can’t be sure.”

  “Your talents have certainly progressed rapidly, especially in the absence of an elder. You know of no others like you?’

  “Nope, I’m the only guy I know with wings.”