by Cole, Jason
She saw the blinking X on the map, and the various types of terrain she would have to endure. The forecast was rain, followed up by more rain. Great. Just what she always hated most. She pulled her hood up over her head, tucked all the items from the box into her backpack, and threw it to the side.
Let’s do this.
She knew if there was any job she wanted to get over with, this was it. The rainforest was more enjoyable in magazines and on TV than in person. Without a native guide and proper raingear, it was easy to tell that this was going to be miserable.
Let’s just hope this person of interest doesn’t try any gimmicks and make things more difficult than they need to be.
It was long walks like these that proved to be the most dangerous. So much time to question where she was from, how she got here, how she got so good at stealing and copying genes. She must’ve had some sort of childhood and parents. The only thing she had was a vague feeling inside that she was given up at a young age. The other memories in her head tended to fade in and out, and more often than not, they haunted more than helped. Images flashed into her mind’s eye of a little girl withering away in a bed. She can’t make out any details of who’s around, what the house looked like, just the debilitated child. Tons of cords and cables, IVs and ventilators, and none of it seemed to be helping. The memory alone induced a sort of knot in her stomach. The memory left nothing but a feeling of angst and hopelessness inside. Every time she conjured up these thoughts, she could feel the tears swell up, and her brain would go haywire.
She looked down at her map. She was just a couple miles away from the destination. By now she should be seeing some signs of civilization or humanity, but there was nothing. No worn down paths, no marked trees, nothing. Not a sight, not a sound, and not a soul around. She was beginning to wonder if they got the location right. Never before had the map been wrong, but there’s a first for everything.
Eventually she was only a quarter mile away. She pulled her hood down, and felt the rain crash down on her head. Each droplet was cold but refreshing.
She started to walk gently, avoiding any leaves or fallen branches, her feet so nimble she didn’t make a sound. Not even nearby animals detected her. She made it another fifty feet towards her target and still nothing. The background noise was beginning to grow, but nothing she could decipher. Nothing recognizable or human sounding. She was so frustrated. She finally looked up at the sky and let the rain wash her face. The cool water helping her keep her composure.
As she looked, it was evident that the map was correct. There was a massive network of vines and man-made bridges. These indigenous people had made their homes in the canopy. She could see off into the distance that little figures were moving about high up in the trees. Just the sight of seeing them walk around so nonchalantly at heights that were clearly fatal made her queasy. Her legs shook at the thought of having to complete a mission one hundred feet in the air.
This would take some warming up to. She went to a nearby tree that would shield her from view, started to get her vials and camera ready, and began scouting out the people.
Soaking wet, and impatient, Kira was ready to get this over with. One way or another. She took pride in her ability not to cause any pain during the extraction process, but once in a while she needed to stretch her capabilities a little bit. Experiment with new chemistry, or new techniques. This was her craft, her art, her passion, and no one else on this planet could do it like she could.
Chapter 4
“Okay Cindy, let’s put on our best looks and try to be strong for this. I know it’s gonna suck, but it’s better than the alternatives.” Marcus was talking to the top of Cindy’s head as she rested her face in her palms. They couldn’t bear to look at each other since they first heard the bad news from Dr. Morris. The relationship was constantly strained from that point forward and the future held little promise.
“I will. I’ll do my best.” Her voice was cracking from all the crying and sobbing. They were both crushed from the news. Their worlds shattered into pieces, and the unsure journey that lay ahead was just as terrifying.
“That’s all we can do.” Marcus had so much to say, so many questions, and he longed for assurances. Unfortunately, this was the typical conversation for the last 24 hours. Hollow words and short sentences. Cindy didn’t have the energy to keep herself together, let alone try and support him.
He put his hand on her back and started massaging her. As soon as he touched her, he felt her chest rise as she sniffed her nose and tears flowed.
Marcus knew that this therapy was probably going to suck, but they needed to be strong as a couple. Not only for themselves, but for their baby. After hearing the laundry list of symptoms Marcus couldn’t help but wonder if terminating the pregnancy was the best option for everyone. He had heard of couples breaking up, people losing their minds, losing their sense of self. He knew they were strong, but wasn’t sure if they could handle something as trying as this. He also know he could never propose the idea without Cindy unleashing hell on him.
The gestational genome screening was designed to confirm a baby was healthy, and if not, it could tip off the doctors to what treatments would be useful. Marcus and Cindy almost wished such a diagnostic never existed. Any time before the first trimester and the DNA fragments were too small to sequence and amplify properly. At this point she already had a belly bump, and she had grown too attached.
“Marcus and Cindy?” A man in a white lab coat had stepped through the door and poked his head around.
Marcus stood up quickly and waved to the doctor. He then looked down at Cindy who was much less enthused. He put his hand under her arm and helped her to her feet. Wrapping his arm around her, they gently made their way over to the doctor.
“Glad you both could make it. Come on in and have a seat.” His voice was charming, He was energetic, but not overly so. Marcus was relieved and could see himself warming up to a guy like this, Cindy remained outwardly apprehensive.
They sat down on large suede sofas. Marcus began to wonder what other kind of couples sat in these exact same chairs. What sort of situations they were facing, what traumas and tragedies they were trying to overcome and deal with. In just the blink of an eye, they had instantly morphed into one of those couples. Not in a million years would he have believed this was possible. An unfathomable sequence of events.
Marcus realized Cindy wasn’t going to be opening up anytime soon and chimed in. “Thanks for seeing us Dr. Morris. We appreciate you making time on such short notice. As you can imagine, we are still a little shell-shocked, but we are managing as best we can.” Marcus looked over at the doctor, now sitting behind the massive dark, oak desk. Neatly organized, a few fountain pens in a jar, a big gold nameplate at the front. The doctor was carefully observing them, Marcus felt like a test subject for a second.
“Of course, Marcus. I will never tell you guys that I understand what you’re going through, or that it’s common, or anything else. That’s bullshit.” Cindy immediately sprung up and looked at the doctor. Marcus leaked a smirk on his face. Maybe there was hope for this guy after all. He was turning out to be human and not another professional speaker in a doctor costume.
“The idea here is for you to face the demons. For you to explore your minds, and deal with the situation before it manifests into something that is uncontrollable. Not saying couples can’t survive without therapy, but I’ll tell you that having someone guide you through the grief, the anger, and all of these other volatile emotions will be immensely useful.”
Marcus looked over at Cindy, and for the first time she looked back at him. Their eyes met, and there was a calmness amongst them. Hearing this doctor’s voice, there was a strength to his words that made them feel shielded, if only for a brief time. Safe from the ugly reality that awaited them outside of this office.
Cindy’s mouth slowly opened, but words failed to come out. The doctor sat there, patiently. Not trying to fill in the blanks or suggest th
at he was in a rush. Marcus began to rub her back again.
Cindy, her voice feeble and raspy, said, “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for not sugarcoating or downplaying it. After hearing about the symptoms, the side effects, the chemistry lab of drugs that are suggested, and everything else, you can imagine that my mind is mush. My heart is bleeding. My life is just so fuc…” She cut herself off, and looked down at her shaking hands.
Marcus stared at her. Hearing her speak like this, the fragility of her voice, the weight of her words, hit him like a ton of bricks. The dams had broken, and the tears began to stream down his face.
The situation seemed hopeless. On top of it all, Marcus was beginning to realize that he had just blown his secret retirement fund. It had taken them years to accrue that sort of money, with hopes of surprising Cindy with a dream vacation, maybe a down payment on a villa in Italy, who knows. Instead, he threw it away on a goddamn sticky note attached to a folder. For all he knew, it was some shady doctor or nurse taking advantage of patients at times of weakness.
In hindsight, it was almost hard to believe it happened. Like a bad dream he couldn’t shake, the remnants forming into permanent memories. He knew it was real though because he had checked the balance in the account one hundred times since the transfer. The pennies leftover were salt in the wound.
The wound of a having a sick child was wide open, blood was gushing, and the feeling of being taken advantage at a vulnerable moment was exacerbating it all.
He blinked a few times and realized they were continuing the conversation. Cindy was still talking to the doctor and vice versa. He had zoned out, and he realized he couldn’t afford to do that or she would start getting suspicious.
“What do you think about that Marcus?”
“Sorry, I missed it. I’m feeling drained, and it’s so hard to go over everything, again and again.”
Cindy smiled and melted him inside. She said, “It’s okay babe. I think introducing ourselves and breaking the ice was enough for one day. Dr. Wilson seems like he’s going to be a huge help, so let’s come back tomorrow.”
Marcus could barely think, let alone speak after seeing Cindy’s face. He thought it would be weeks before she smiled again.
He nodded and stood up smiling at the doctor. They shook hands, and he put his arm around Cindy as they walked out. As they shut the door behind them, he whispered into her ear, “I love you.”
She smiled again, went on her tip toes, and kissed him on the cheek.
Chapter 5
The rain was continuing to pour down, relentlessly. With her clothes soaking wet and hunger starting to set in, this mission was beginning to suck before it started. She was studying them and their habits. Her target was a shaman, most probably recognized as the leader of this group of people. They were indigenous to the land and knew it better than she ever would. It was important to stay on her toes and on her guard.
She noticed a man walking around with a massive headdress, his face appeared to match the projected image from her tablet, and on his back was the signature dream catcher that was listed as a unique identifier. She also noticed three men that seemed to shadow him 24/7. He never left their sight, not to go to the bathroom, or to be with friends.
She continued to watch for what felt like hours. She wondered if they ever saw the sun, or if it was just this perpetual onslaught of rain.
Boredom was setting in, these people lived very simple lives. Some went out to hunt, some crafted things from nature’s gifts in the environment, others took care of children, and all was well. They seemed like a peaceful people. She was beginning to realize she should do her best not to disturb or disrupt their way of life. She wondered if she was spotted would she become some sort of urban legend. Maybe the story of the disappearing woman would live on in their oral traditions. On second thought, it would probably traumatize a few people in the process, and it was too deeply ingrained to remain undetectable.
Losing focus, she shook her head, a wave of water washed off like someone spinning an umbrella. Her eyes were getting heavy, she was squinting, and doing anything she could to keep her eyelids from sealing shut. As she popped back into focus, she noticed something.
The shaman was in a hut all alone. He appeared to be performing some sort of ritual by himself, or a prayer of some sort. There was little straw dolls hanging all around the inside. She had a bad angle looking up inside the room through the entryway, but it looked like there were human skulls. Not exactly confidence-inspiring.
The moment was now, and she started to scale a nearby tree to gain a better perspective and vision of her target. The wet bark was like trying to climb a greased up totem pole. Impossible. She would jump up five feet, wrap her arms and legs around it, and slowly slide down. It felt like she was a contestant on some comical game show.
Something brushed her shoulder. She turned quickly with a red vial in her hand ready to respond accordingly. It was a swinging vine, and as her eyes followed it up, she noticed it reached all the way to the top. Kira wrapped it around her forearm a couple of times and tugged. The vine didn’t budge more than a couple inches. Then she jumped, held her feet off the ground so the vine held her body weight, and she dangled for a moment. The vine refused to budge. Perfect.
Her only option now was to walk up the tree as if it were horizontal, using the vines as her guide. As she ascended to about twenty feet up, she began to tremble, her periphery absorbing just enough information to know she would break a few bones if she slipped.
The voices from the people were growing louder as she grew closer. As she reached their level, her heart began to race, her pulse quickened, and her eyes focused like a predator closing in. She was getting in the zone.
Okay girl, it’s gametime. No mistakes, no sounds, no evidence, and no second chances.
She looked over towards the village hanging in the sky, built around these treetops and trunks. It was a magnificent sight.
Her eyes scanned the span of the village until they became fixated on a mother holding her daughter. All of the focus and intensity dissipated as she was filled with a sadness and a vague sense of nostalgia. Something inside of her knew she had experiences like that. Moments in her lifetime when she was held by a loving mother, kissed and coddled, protected from the cruel world that she’s been living in alone for all these years.
As Kira watched the two of them interact, her vision began to blur, she shook her head again, but nothing. The lens was out of focus and nothing she did seemed to help. Closing her eyes, she tried to regain focus, and when she opened them her world was dark.
A voice came through. “Mommy, can we go get ice cream?”
It was a young girl’s voice, probably similar in age to the one she had just seen. The voice was painfully familiar.
“Of course, would you like your usual strawberry cheesecake bar?” The woman and her daughter came into view. Kira couldn’t make out the details of her face, but her golden blonde hair flowed down past her shoulders to her butt.
The mother’s smile was pure bliss as she looked down at her daughter. They were holding hands, walking towards an ice cream truck parked out in the street.
“That would be great, Mom. You’re the best.” The little girl pulled her hand free and began to skip towards the ice cream truck, happy as could be.
The mother called out, “Don’t go too far. You know I don’t like you by that street alone.”
The little girl had stopped in her tracks, turned around and held her hand out, waiting for her mother.
Kira could feel tears falling down her cheeks. This time she knew it wasn’t the rain. She never did know for sure if these flashbacks were past memories, or conjured up hallucinations to try and re-create a past life. Some sort of personal history that she could relate to and make her own.
The mother and daughter began to fade, along with the truck in the street, as the village suspended in the canopy reappeared. The laughter, the deep voices of the hunters, came rushing back i
nto her consciousness
The shaman was still alone in his room performing the ritual. Now or never.
A device in her pocket vibrated. She reached down with one arm, as the other white knuckled hand held the vine. Looking at the device, the message made her heart sink into her stomach.
There is fifteen hours left before the client will no longer need the gene.
She knew the flight took about thirteen hours, so the window of opportunity was closing. This could only mean one thing. The mission she was on was one of the “good” ones. Experience told her that when a countdown was placed on a mission, it meant someone was dying. This excited her because it meant someone could be saved. Her work may save a life, an invigorating notion.
Chapter 6
Tentatively, Kira inched up the tree toward the wooden floor around the hut. The hut itself was constructed of bark, trees and leaves. An impressive structure, completely waterproof, and the pelt on the inside made for a nice area rug. Beat the hell out of her apartment back at home.
She scanned the surrounding area one last time and found the two bodyguards off in the distance, laughing and eating. The window of opportunity had just presented itself. This was one of those now or never kind of situations.
She took a moment to look down and instantly regretted this decision. The sight of the one hundred foot drop induced a complete paralysis. She stared at the ground, frozen in time and space. The world started to spin, and it wasn’t getting any better. She realized she needed to focus, peel her eyes from the ground, and back onto the hut.
The vines that she used to get this far were no longer useful. They ran out of slack, and in order to reach the next tree over, she needed to leap. A leap so risky it made her question everything. The tree was a good four feet away, but what made it so difficult was the fact that she had nothing to push off of. She had her arms hugging the tree and both forearms wrapped in vines. Not exactly an ideal situation to launch oneself four feet in the air to grab onto another soaking wet tree.