Chuck snickered. “Well, good for you. Do you?”
“Yeah. Give me five minutes to change.”
Chuck pulled at his own uniform. “Me too.” He backed up. “I’ll be over in five.”
Jake continued up his walk, and he paused when he stepped on the porch. He looked with oddness at the front window of his home. “Why are the blinds drawn?” He opened the front door and stepped into a dark house. “Cal,” he called out. “Sweetie, is there a reason we’re in the dark?. I don’t draw the blinds until dusk.” Jake set down his briefcase, shut the door, and reached for the light switch. He flicked it on. Nothing. “Fuckin Chuck forgot to pay my electric bill, too. Fuck.” A striking of a match and then the orange amber color lighting of the room caught Jake’s attention. He turned from the wall to see Cal standing up from lighting a candle on the coffee table.
“Your secretary said you were on your way.” Cal stood wearing only one of Jake’s long, white button-down shirts.
“What’s all this about?”
“This is about your promotion.” Cal walked to him and grabbed his hands pulling him more into the living room. “You have years of celebrating to make up for.”
Though Jake wanted to look at Cal, who was so beautiful with her hair pulled over one shoulder, his eyes kept going to the candle on his coffee table. “Cal, you really should put something under the candle. Wax is going to drip on . . .”
“Jake. Don’t worry about it.” Cal reached up and loosened his tie. “It will come off when it gets . . .” She pressed into him and softened her voice. “Hard.”
Jake swallowed.
Cal slipped off his tie then brought her hands to his shoulders removing his jacket. She tossed it to the chair.
“So this is celebrating.”
“Actually,” Cal said, lifting his shirt from his pants, unbuckling his belt, and tossing it aside, “this is called spontaneous seduction.”
“Seduction, huh?”
“Yep.” Cal unbuttoned his shirt.
“Should we go upstairs?”
“Not when it’s spontaneous, no.” She slipped his open shirt off. He was wearing a tee shirt. “God, Jake, can you possibly have any more clothing on?”
“Sorry, Cal, but I wasn’t expecting this . . .” He kissed her. “Spontaneous seduction.” He grabbed hold of the tee shirt and took it off. As he tossed it, he felt Cal’s lips touch upon his stomach, sensually kissing him. “Right here?”
“Oh yeah.” She moved her lips slowly up his chest. “Right here.”
Jake slid his hands down her back and slightly under the long shirt. He let out a chuckle when he felt her bare skin. Placing his hands to her waist, he lifted Cal to his level, wrapping his arms tightly around her, securing her to his chest, and began to kiss. His one hand slid further up her back and under her hair, kissing her harder. Then slowly, still holding Cal, he lowered himself to his knees.
Cal’s legs straddled over Jake’s as they kissed and their bodies gently moved on the floor. Feeling Cal, Jake’s hands moved to the collar of her shirt. He swept her hair to the side and brought his lips to her neck, gliding them down as he opened her shirt. With an edge of roughness, he pulled the shirt over her shoulders trapping her arms. His huge hands pressed behind her shoulders, gripping her, arching her back as he brought his lips to the center of her chest. So into it they grew until . . . Chuck walked in.
“Hey Jake . . . whoops.” Chuck stopped mid-stride in the house.
“Fuck.” Jake raised his head. “Don’t you knock!”
“No, I never knocked,” Chuck answered. “And you said to come over in five minutes.”
“You still should knock.” Jake looked over his shoulder. “I live with someone now.”
“Sorry Jake, it’s just gonna take me some time to get used to the fact that you could be getting laid in the middle of . . .”
“Chuck, please.” Jake closed his eyes. “Can you uh . . . leave.” Jake motioned his head to Cal who was on his lap. “We’re trying to do something here.”
“Oh, sure. Are we still shooting hoops before dinner?”
“Chuck,” Jake called out.
“I’m leaving. Call me when you’re done.” He moved to the door. “Oh, and Cal, you may want to know that I can see your left breast.”
“Chuck!” Jake’s hands shot up covering Cal’s breast. “Leave.”
Cal laughed and lowered her head.
“I’m gone. Call me.” Chuck hurried out.
“Asshole.” Jake let out a breath of annoyance.
“Don’t worry about it.” Cal kissed him.
“See. That is why we do this sort of thing upstairs.”
“No, Jake. This . . .” Cal placed her hands on his face and kissed him. She moved her body against him forcing him back and down to the floor. She lifted her head allowing her hair to dangle down at him. “This is why it’s called spontaneous.”
Jake looked up at her smile, laid his hands on her cheeks, and pulled Cal to him. They kissed again, and when her chest met his, he gripped her and rolled her, bringing Cal to her back and his body to hers.
Chicago, Illinois
March 7th - 3:30 p.m. CST
Billy wasn’t expecting anyone at his apartment. If he had, he would have cleaned up, or certainly shaved. He definitely wasn’t expecting the Executive Director of The Central News Network to show up at his home, either.
“How are you Billy?” Paul Kenning, a business man in his mid forties with graying temples, asked as he stood at Billy’s door. A large envelope was tucked under his arm.
“Better.” Billy spoke groggily. Actually, Billy had been drinking slow but steady since he arrived back home after Leonard’s death the day before. “Come in.” He opened the door wider for Paul. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Billy reached for his shirt that was lying on the chair and put it on.
“I wasn’t expecting to come and see you until tomorrow. But I spoke to Leonard’s wife, and she said you weren’t doing all that well.”
“I’m doing.”
“Can we sit down?” Paul indicated to the sofa.
“Yeah, sure.” Billy followed and sat down at the same time as Paul. “What’s going on?”
“It’s about this story.”
“You want me to drop it.” Billy folded his hands.
“Not entirely. Perhaps you’re going to need to take a different approach.” Paul handed Billy the envelope. “When the news of Leonard’s death got out, the Science Review called. I told them you were investigating, and they sent these. Thought you may need them.”
Billy opened the envelope and pulled out a large pile of pictures, clear shots taken at the airport of Cal and Jake. “Oh, wow,” he said in awe. “I can see his name tag. Major Jacob Graison.” He turned to another picture, one of Cal and Jake kissing at the airport gate. “They’re together, aren’t they? I find him, I find her, right?”
“Read the faxes that are in there.”
Billy reached into the envelope and pulled out two sheets of paper. “This letter is from Caldwell.”
“Yes. When Dr. Haynes called me this morning about Leonard’s death, I took the liberty of telling him that we uncovered one of the participants’ names, Major Graison, and he kind of, well, chuckled.”
“Why?”
“The other fax. Dr. Haynes sent it with the letter.”
Billy began to read. “Shit, they signed a contract of confidentiality.”
“Valid for over two-and-a-half years. If they talk, they owe the institute the money back. I think the length of time is placed on there because who the hell is going to care or remember after thirty-three months.”
“Damn it.” Billy laid the faxes down on the table. “So basically, anything I find out, I find out on my own.”
“Exactly. And though it probably will be hogwash . . . I convinced Dr. Haynes to speak to you.”
Billy’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yes, in exchange for not releasing details o
f Leonard’s death in connection with the experiment compound, he said he’ll meet with you next week.”
“That’s great.” Billy’s enthusiasm was low. “What’s he gonna tell me?”
“About the experiments and what they do,” Paul explained. “I don’t expect it will be all that interesting or news worthy. He’s going to be very PC.”
Billy ran his hand down his face. “Swell.” He let out a slow breath. “I have two participants who probably won’t speak to me at all. And I have a soon-to-be director who’s going to paint a pretty scientific picture and give one hell of an explanation for what I saw up there.” Billy tossed the pictures to the table. “Shit.”
“In other words, even with what you told me you know, and what I saw, without proof or eyewitness accounts, you have a flash story that won’t last in people’s minds.”
“A boring story. So I take it you want me to drop it.”
“No. Not at all. Talk to Dr. Haynes,” Paul said. “ Do you know they start planning the next experiment years in advance?”
“Yes I did.”
“They start interviewing participants far in advance, too. Well, I’m thinking, if you start to gather up all you can about the upcoming experiment, by the time it rolls around, that experiment’s twelve participants will be free to talk.”
“Get all their information and break the story in the thick of it.”
“Well.” Paul shook his head. “That’s not what I’m thinking.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you to talk to them, but not to break the story on experiment twelve, in order to help you with the story of experiment thirteen.”
“How are they going to help with the next experiment if they know nothing about it?” Billy asked.
“They’ll be more like . . . preparing you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m a man of my word, Billy.” Paul spoke calmly in a business-like explaining manner. No emotions. Factual. “I said you could follow this story to the next experiment if need be. I keep my word. But instead of following it to the next experiment, how about following it into the next experiment.”
It took a moment, but then it dawned on Billy where Paul was going. And as he picked up the pictures again of Cal and Jake, Billy smiled at Paul, a smile of agreement to what Paul was saying.
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
March 7th - 4:30 p.m.
Coming down the steps, wearing shorts and a tee shirt, Jake moved directly to the small living room closet and pulled the basketball from it. He checked the firmness of it knowing it had been seven months since he used it. It seemed fine, and he tucked it under his arm. “Hey, Cal, I’m out of here.” He moved toward the kitchen. He could smell the mixture of a baking cake and dinner. “I’ll be back in an hour and that’ll give me time to shower before . . .” He looked at his kitchen when he arrived. A bag of flour and a bag of sugar were on the small table. The mixing bowl protruded from the sink. Splashed on the stove were a few grease dots which must have escaped from the pot, and a few jars of seasoning sat on the counter right where Cal had her hands in a bowl making little balls out of some sort of tan mixture.
Cal smiled at him and placed one of those tan balls into a mushroom cap. “What’s wrong?”
“Is it customary for a kitchen to look like this when a meal is being prepared?”
“This isn’t the mess hall, Jake. Yes, I’m cooking appetizers, dinner, and desert all at the same time. I’ll clean up. Go play ball.” She grabbed more of the mixture.
“Cal.” Jake stepped to her.
“What?”
“My ring.” He grabbed her hand and looked at her diamond covered in the moist substance.
“It’ll rinse off.”
“Wear gloves or something. I paid a lot for that.”
Cal rolled her eyes, turned on the water, and rinsed off her hand. She removed the ring and placed it on the window sill.
Jake let out a slight shriek. “You took it off. I can’t . . .”
“Jake.” Cal reached into the mixture. “Go. And don’t be late. We’re meeting Mrs. Whatever at the house at eight.”
“I’m going.” As Jake moved to step from the kitchen, the phone rang. “Aha, phone service.” Jake picked it up. “Major, I mean, Lt. Col. Graison . . . Who’s calling?” Jake looked at Cal. His face took on an almost angry look. “She has this substance on her hands right now, she’ll have to call you back.”
“Who is it?” Cal asked.
Jake hesitated. He didn’t want to tell her.
“Jake?”
“It’s David.”
Cal smiled, then erased it. She rinsed off her hands and took the phone. “Hi,” she said very chipper into the phone. “This is a surprise.”
Jake, gripping his basketball, sat down at the table and watched her.
“Hold on David.” Cal covered the mouth piece. “Jake, I thought you were playing ball.”
“I am.” Jake put the basketball on the floor. He leaned back in the chair. “After you’re off the phone. Why is he calling here? I don’t approve.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’ll never approve of my friends?”
“Oh, I will, whenever your create a friendship link with someone that isn’t an organized crime boss or someone you haven’t previously slept with.”
Cal’s mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.” After flipping an observing Jake off, Cal braced the phone between her ear and shoulder, turned her back to Jake, and talked on the phone while cooking.
Caldwell Research Institute - Atlanta, GA
March 7th - 6:55 p.m.
In the large, white clinical room, it was a mixture of surgical team meets annihilation squad in a schizophrenic medical setting. All twenty people in the room were wearing sterilized hospital garb, even face masks. Some of those dressed held automatic weapons. In the center of the room on a metal cart lay a long oval mound, brownish in color, rough in texture. It seemed to shift some, and every once in a while, a rolling of the top would occur like a baby kicking within its mother’s womb. Monitor wires protruded from it, and a steady beeping echoed in the room.
Barely any of Greg’s face could be seen between his mask and head covering. He stood next to Dr. Jefferson, who looked the same. “It’s been an hour now, and the movement is steady. Do you suppose there is trouble breaking through?”
“I don’t see why there would be,” Dr. Jefferson answered. “No other has had trouble.”
“Yes, but we aren’t sure yet if this is like the others.”
There was a unison gasp when the top of the enigma raised high and fell. The breaths were released.
Greg shook his head. “This is getting unnerving.”
“I have to agree. I feel like I’m at the birth of my first child again.”
Greg’s eyes smiled. And then another gasp occurred, an extending of the enigma followed by the groans of disappointment.
“Sir,” a woman who stood near the table called out as she stepped closer to the enigma. “I heard . . . I heard a grunt.”
Greg’s eyes shifted to Dr. Jefferson. “That means it could actually be one of them.” He waved his hand over to the armed men. They pumped the chambers of their guns. Two other surgically dressed people hurried toward the enigma, pushing a tray containing syringes. Greg, with Dr. Jefferson, moved closer.
A hush took over the room, and the enigma shifted violently. A crackling occurred, followed by a loud grunt. Another moment of quiet, then what sounded like a deadened thumping knock. Once, then two times, then once again. Everyone looked at each other in confusion. The mumbling of voices buzzed about the room but were quickly silenced when a distant muffled voice called out. It came from the enigma.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Greg and Dr. Jefferson hurried even closer.
“I like, hear you out there. Hello? Dudes? Like, this isn’t funny, it’s wet and dark in here and I’m stuck.”
&nb
sp; Greg’s eyes lit up. “Surgical team, join me.” He grabbed a tray with instruments on it and pulled it to him. “Let’s cut this thing open.”
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
March 7th - 8:10 p.m.
In the jeep as they pulled in front of the house was the last time Jake had told Cal ‘I told you to just pick one’. Jake was filled with more comments than even Cal expected.
She thought it was going to be a good experience when they met the real estate agent whom Cal ended up just calling Estelle. Jake smiled, looking up at the home, commenting on how big and how great the yard was. The he countered that by estimating how long it would take to cut the grass. Cal knew she was in trouble when they stepped inside and Jake continuously opened and closed the front door, cringing at every creaking sound it made.
Estelle kept up a happy appearance as she led them into a room by the stairs that was set in the center. “This is a great old home,” Estelle explained. “Over a hundred years old. This room here. . .” She opened the double doors, “. . .could be used for a family room or a party room. It has cable.”
Jake peered in. He didn’t look pleased.
Estelle chuckled. “Doors, too. My ex-husband and I would have loved to have one of these rooms to lock the kids in.”
Jake turned his head to her. “That sounds rather abusive.”
The joking smile disappeared from Estelle’s face. “Well.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s go upstairs.” She held her hand to the stairs, and led Cal and Jake up. “As I was telling Cal this afternoon, The railings on both sides of the steps are great for safety purposes. The stairs are wide and deep.” They got to the top. “Up here, we have five bedrooms.”
Jake looked at Cal. “Five?”
Cal nodded. “Two more in the attic. You said big.”
“Five?” Jake repeated.
Estelle stopped at the first room. “Three of them have their own bathrooms, and there is a main bathroom up here. This room I love.” Estelle opened the door. The walls were white with a pink balloon border. Animal figures were painted on the walls.
Amoeba (The Experiments) Page 5