Amoeba (The Experiments)

by Jacqueline Druga

  Jake just looked at her.

  “Good. Now having that established.” Cal reached over and grabbed his hand. “I would like to establish something else. Jacob Andrew Graison, there is nothing, nothing you hear me, nothing that would ever make me stop loving you or make me leave you. I promised you one night about three years ago, I swore on my soul I would never leave you and I meant it. Nothing can change that.”

  Very seriously Jake looked at her. “Even if you found out I have been lying to you all these years?”

  Cal kept her eyes on him, never blinking, never flinching. “Nothing.” She felt his hand slip from hers. “Talk to me.”

  After a long silence, Jake stood up. “This whole zombie thing tonight. This whole episode. It wasn’t aimed toward Paul. It wasn’t a physical test of the participants. It was my test. It was intended for me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Okay, well, some people are musically inclined. Some . . . artistically. Me? I was always scientifically inclined.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “Yeah. So . . . when the Army discovered this about me, they played on it. Took me from the field and I went to school.”

  “For?” Cal asked.

  “Biology.”

  “For how long? Was it a course, what?”

  “The entire time I trained as a ranger, I went to school. Eight years.”

  “Jake, then that means you have your . . .”

  “Doctorate. Yes.” Jake nodded. “It was not what I wanted to do. Being in some lab was not where I wanted to be. The knowledge I gained, medically, helped in my career as a ranger, in my survival and my teaching others to survive.”

  “Jake,” Cal said his name with a smile. “So you didn’t tell me about your education. That’s all right. You probably were worried that I would bitch at you for not using it when . . .”

  “No. That’s not it. Because of my ability I was on this team that met every so often and we, as a team, developed this chemical, a gas, that hits the brain.” Jake pointed to his temple. “Destroying all aspects of it with the exception of motor skills. So basically you’re like a . . .”

  “Zombie.”

  “Exactly.” Jake sat back down at the table. “It didn’t hit me until I saw the eyes. The yellow eyes. That was a tell tale sign of our chemical. The chemical caused bleeding behind the eyes, and when the bleeding stopped, the blood stayed, causing the yellowing effect. That is what told me that what happened out there this morning was from something I did. Something I created.”

  “They got a hold of it. How?” Cal asked.

  “I don’t know” Jake tossed his hands up. “I thought when I left the team, when the project was finished, they destroyed the weapon. I was wrong.”

  “Okay, they got a hold of it. They exposed people and made you remember creating it, so . . .”

  “No, Cal, they made me remember something else. They made me remember why I dropped off the team, why the research for the chemical was stopped. Because of what happened.” Jake paused to think. “Ten years ago, we were after the head of a cartel in a third world country. We knew where he was. We knew we had to get him. Sneak in, take him and his men out. I . . . I came up with the brilliant fuckin idea to test the gas on this person’s camp. After all, I was leading the raid, it was partly my chemical, and approval was given like that.” Jake snapped. “So me and my men, armed with gas masks and tiny little beads, seized this camp. The only problem was, I knew how long the gas stayed in the air, fifteen minutes, right? What I didn’t count on was for the winds to pick it up and carry it into the village not three miles away. It wasn’t supposed to happen. The entire village, men, women, and children were hit. Children, Cal. And this chemical doesn’t kill you. You don’t die from it. The only way out of the misery you feel is to be killed. And we created such a mess there, that we had to clean it up. Each hut, home, building we went through, and killed every single person affected. Men, women, and . . . children. Children, Cal. And I truly believed that it was some sort of punishment that I was unable to have kids. So I convinced myself I never wanted them. Until you. Until now. And look. You find out tonight that I haven’t been honest with you for four years, that I did something so inhumane, so sickening. I tried to put it behind me. I swear. I was so sorry for what had happened. But that doesn’t cut it. It happened. And it changed my life forever.”

  Cal waded through a long silence. A dreaded one. “What do you expect me to do now, Jake?”

  “I don’t know.” Jake swayed his head.

  “Do you expect me to yell? To scream at you that you didn’t tell me this?” Cal leaned into the table. “Do you expect me to tell you that you make me sick? That I hate you now for what happened? Well if that’s what you expect, I am sorry to disappoint you, Lt. Col. Graison, but you just aren’t gonna get that from me.”

  “Cal?” Jake lifted his head.

  “Does this shock you?” Cal asked him. “Does it shock you that I don’t bat an eye about it? Jake, please. You made a mistake. You moved on. Why punish you for it now when you have been punishing yourself for years? And besides, am I not supposed to be understanding to the husband who forgave my affair? Understand problems that I have? Wants to share in the child I’m carrying? I’ll tell you, if Caldwell thought this was gonna put a damper in our marriage . . .” Cal fluttered her lips. “God were they stupid.”

  “Cal.” Jake stood up and moved to her. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you any of this before. I just didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to remember. And if I told you about the science aspect of my life, I’d have to tell you about what happened to end that aspect of my life.” Jake grabbed her hands and pulled her up. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. And don’t thank me.” Cal hugged him. “I was really expecting something much more worse.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Cal stepped back with a smile. “You know what I thought?” She started to laugh. “I thought . . .” She grabbed her chest and her words “I thought you were going to tell me that you have been working for Caldwell the whole entire time.”

  Jake was quiet. “Cal.” He spoke her name solemnly. “I have been.”

  “What?” Cal lost her smile. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been working for Caldwell since the first experiment. Who do you think invented the stasis?”

  Cal’s mouth moved slowly before she said anything. “You?”

  Jake lowered his eyes, then lifted them. “No.” He stepped to her and cracked a smile. “And guess what I just did? I just spontaneously fibbed to you. I’m kidding about Caldwell.”

  “Oh.” Cal gasped out with a smile. “Jake.” She smiled impressed. “Jake, that was really good. Good job. You got me.”

  “Yeah, that was good.” Jake nodded with excitement. “And Cal, it just came to me. I mean, you said that about Caldwell and a bulb went off in my head. I thought, why don’t I take this opportunity to get Cal and lighten the mood? And I did it, didn’t I?”

  “Yes you did.” Cal reached up and tapped him on the cheek. “Oh Jake, maybe you’re finally lightening up.”

  There was a moment of silence, then at the same time, Cal and Jake both shook their heads with a ‘Nah.’

  ^^^^

  Bang!

  “God, Jake!”

  Jake looked up from the floor. “I can’t help it, Cal, the bed is too fuckin short.”

  “You’ve been here long enough to adjust.” Cal fluffed her pillow. “Adjust, damn it.”

  “All right.”

  “God,” Cal said again, annoyed.

  “All right!”

  “What are you doing anyhow?”

  “I forgot to do something.” Jake, still on the floor, crawled for Cal’s shoe. Holding it, he climbed back in bed, and covered up. Sitting up, ignoring Cal’s irritated glances at him, Jake tossed the shoe across the room, knocked the shirt off the camera, then Jake laid down, snuggled next to Cal and kissed
her. “Night.”

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  May 21st - 1:22 a.m.

  After watching the flash so briefly of Jake happily climbing under the covers with his wife, Dr. Jefferson spun his chair slightly to Greg, who kept staring up at the monitor, tapping his hand on a folder.

  “So,” Dr. Jefferson said.

  “So.”

  “It backfired.”

  “I wouldn’t say backfired.” Greg laid his hand flat on the folder and turned his head to Dr. Jefferson. “It just didn’t work.”

  “Did you think it would?”

  “Yes, and so did you.”

  “No.” Dr. Jefferson shook his head. “I said maybe. Yes, I recall saying maybe.”

  “Well, even at maybe, you were wrong. I was wrong. It was a good bit of his history, though. Dark, demented.” Greg shrugged. “Oh well.”

  “What now?” Dr. Jefferson asked. “I know you have other things planned for the target couple. What’s next?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You have nothing planned.”

  “No, I have things planned, but I’m doing nothing.” Greg ran his hand across his own head. “I’m done.”

  “I thought you didn’t admit defeat.”

  “I am in this case. Why bother? I have other fish to fry. I have bigger plans to conquer. They still may die. Or at least one of them,”

  “They could.”

  “So I have that. But . . .” Greg tossed his hand up. “As far as breaking them up as a couple, I’m not even going to waste my breath anymore. If they can survive infidelity, an illegitimate child, and a hidden sordid past, I think these two can survive anything. So . . . defeat admitted.” Greg slumped.

  “Good. Glad to hear you say that.”

  “Why? Does it show my human qualities?”

  “I’m just glad that you’re moving on. I was bored. And in answer to your question, no.”

  “No?”

  “No. How can your admitting defeat show your human qualities?” Dr. Jefferson looked at Greg. “When I’m pretty much getting convinced that you have no human qualities at all.”

  For a second, only a second, Greg peered with deep seriousness to Dr. Jefferson, then after that he looked straight ahead with a smile upon his face.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island

  June 4th - 9:30 a.m.

  Billy felt disgusting. He didn’t want to be wearing a tee shirt. He’d rather be going without one with as hot as it was so early in the day. But he supposed he had developed an immunity to the sun screen. It seemed that every time Billy went out and put it on, he got burned.

  It was probably the longest walk of his life, but he had to get to the spot where he had gotten the great view of the volcano on the other side of the island, the one where the smoke seeped out every once and a while. The one Jake assured him, if it erupted, they would be fine. Of course, Billy had to wonder what Jake knew of volcanoes. But seeing it was more than he knew, he took Jake’s word on it.

  Billy heard the rustle drawing near to him as he walked in those deep woods. He thought at first it was Reed, who was out walking alone for the first time in a while, developing the attitude that if he was alone and he had a mishap, then he had no one else to blame but himself. How right Billy thought Reed to be. Then again, Rickie had been extra careful with him, and Reed hadn’t had an accident in nearly two weeks. That alone could have explained the bravery that Reed had in trudging out alone.

  But the closer the rustling drew, the more he realized it wasn’t Reed. It moved too fast. Nor could it have been Judge who had recently thrown himself into paleontology. Judge limped. The rustling moved at a steady quick pace.

  Through reasonable deduction and having no one left, Billy chalked up the incoming noise to one of two people. And he pegged one of them when Lou came whizzing by him.

  Lou spun. “Bill. You did not see me, okay?”

  “Okay.” Billy raised his camera and took a picture when Lou ran off to the left.

  The high pitch war call alerted Billy at the same time he heard more rustling.

  Paul, war paint, loin cloth, and spear, stopped running when he saw Billy. “Clever Bamboozle. Have you seen Large Curse?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Which way did Large Curse run off to?” Paul asked.

  “He went uh . . . that way.” Billy pointed to the right, the totally opposite direction that Lou ran.

  “Thank you Clever Bamboozle. May the good spirits be with you.”

  “And may the force . . .” Billy watched Paul run in the direction he had pointed. “. . . be with you.” Billy chuckled, snapped a picture of Paul, catching the flapping of the loin cloth and getting Cal a really good butt shot.

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  June 4th - 9:35 a.m.

  Amongst the bitches and the gripes, Aldo and Douglass still put it off, but they got to it in the control room. Standing before a card table with money and a large board on it, trying to wade through it while Greg discussed with Barb her inability to track who was getting sun burned and who was not, Aldo and Douglass did their job, being the judges in the ‘no winner’ sidebar betting.

  Douglass laughed listening to Aldo.

  “Bald. Ear eaten by a boar. Lost left eye to hot cinder. Twisted Ankle. Boar ate little toe. Thought he had head lice but only had psoriasis. Got bit by a jelly fish. Zombie ate his fingers, and now the newest Reed incident . . . speared by a wild Indian with a really firm butt.”

  Douglass chuckled some more. Sounds like you’re reading from the top ten list.”

  “And can you actually believe the poll has started for the next Reed accident?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m in it,” Douglass said, laughing. “He’s the best damn participant I have ever had.”

  “Yes he is. So let’s finish this up. No one had Reed getting speared, so we’ll go with the next closest. What do we have?”

  “Two people said he’d get hit by an arrow.”

  “Any on the arm?” Aldo asked.

  “Chest and leg.”

  “Give it to the chest.” Aldo wrote it down.

  “That would be Tony in maintenance. Next. First to loot the dead man’s room.”

  “No one had him,” Aldo said. “No one even pegged him to go in there first.”

  “Okay, so we go first degree to Jake.” Douglass’ hand ran across the board. “Two people picked Cal.”

  “Items,” Aldo asked.

  “Tough one. Electric razor and back massager.”

  “Hmm. Tough one is right.” Aldo thought. “Well, let’s reason it out. Since no one enjoys shaving and since the massager could be enjoyable, and since Jake stole the ‘Best of Journey’ collection for enjoyment, give it to whoever picked Cal and the massager.”

  “Tony from maintenance.”

  Aldo slammed his pen. “Again? Does this man have nothing to fix or what?”

  Before Douglas could add his own gripe, Greg approached and interrupted. “How’s it going? Did I win anything?”

  “Nope.” Aldo shook his head. “We’re just about done here. We have to tally up the attempts on Lou’s life poll, and we should be finished.”

  “I think I’m the closest in that one,” Greg said. “Of course, I never would . . .”

  Something unexpected interrupted Greg’s speech.

  A hiss, long, loud, and static sounding. A painful scream cut short. Gurgles and another hiss.

  Greg spun to Barb. “What the hell was that?” He raced back over to her.

  “I don’t know,” Barb said, tossing her hands up.

  “Our stasis?”

  Barb looked at the monitor. “Still in the cocoon.”

  Aldo rushed over. “What was it?”

  Greg shook his head. “I don’t know.” His eyes quickly skimmed the monitor. “Who the hell was it? And where is everyone?”

  “Out and about,” Barb replied.

  “O
kay,” Greg ordered. “Stop all live feed and go to un-monitored recording, rewind what we got and play it back for me.”

  “Got it.” Barb began to follow instructions.

  Greg kept his eyes on the screen, holding tight to the back of Barb’s chair.

  “One minute rewind.” Barb called out. “Here it is.”

  Silence. Hiss. Scream. Gurgle. Hiss.

  Greg slammed his hand. “What the hell? Again.”

  Aldo noticed the wild look in Greg’s eyes. “Haynes, what is it?”

  The sequence of the painful silenced scream played again.

  “Where . . .” Greg looked in wonder “Where? Again.”

  “Haynes.” Aldo called his attention again. “What is it?”

  “Something . . .” Greg paused on the scream. “Something just happened that I didn’t plan. But what?” Greg looked down at Barb. “Again.”

  I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island

  June 4th - 9:45 a.m.

  Rickie’s arms flapped about and his legs kicked as he sailed, nearly flying over the beach and into the ocean with a splash a good twenty yards from shore.

  “Now see.” Jake held out his hand. “If I could do that, I would do it with grace.”

  “You would,” Cal commented. “But Rickie’s not you. He has to do everything with, well, his own style.” Cal folded her arms. “We almost done with him? I’m tired of watching him jump, Jake.”

  “Yeah. I’ll call him . . . what’s wrong?” He looked at Cal holding her ear.

  “I have this weird tickling. Buzzing. It’s so . . .”

  A low hum rumble occurred followed by a vibration. Jake grabbed hold of Cal’s arm as the ground on which they stood began to shake nearly knocking them over. It lasted for about thirty seconds. When it was over, Jake looked behind them and to the right.

  “Volcano?” Cal asked.

  “Nah. But it’s gonna happen soon.”

  “I just hope you’re right, Jake, and I hope it’s more visual than deadly.”