Amoeba (The Experiments)

by Jacqueline Druga

  ^^^^

  Jake didn’t expect it when he walked in his bungalow tired, sweaty, and dirty, but he got it. Not a verbal hello, but a hard smack to his chest when Cal sailed a hardback book at him. “Cal. What the . . .” Smack. He was hit again, this time with a shoe. Jake shut the door batting away the flying objects that sailed his way. “Knock it off!”

  “You dick.”

  “Calm down.”

  “No.”

  Jake bit his bottom lip and pointed at Cal when he saw her raise her hand holding a beer bottle. “Don’t even fuckin think about it. Put it down.” He marched to her. “Put it down!” He grabbed it from her hand. “And grow up.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jake walked to his dresser opening a drawer. “Do I get an ‘are you okay?’ No. Do I get asked how everything went? No. I get fuckin hit with every moveable object my wife can find the second I walk into the room.” He pulled out a pair of boxer shorts. “Thank you very much, Cal.”

  “You left without me!”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “You could have had more tact!”

  “And you could have had more goddamn sense.”

  Cal gasped out. “You . . .”

  “Dick. I know.”

  “You know, Jake.” She followed him into the bathroom. “You think you saved me and my baby harm by stopping us? Well, let me tell you something Mr. Know-it-all.” She poked him in the back as he bent over the tub to turn on the water. “You made matters worse.”

  “How do you figure?” Jake tested the water.

  “I was stressed Jake. Totally stressed out. Do you think that’s good for the baby? No. I shook. I trembled. I cried. I was so distraught at the tone you used on me that . . .”

  “Oh, bullshit, Cal.” Jake spun to her. He took off his shirt and flung it. “My yelling at you did not stress you out, and you know it.”

  “Look at me now.”

  “The only reason you’re like you are now is because you are acting like a spoiled little brat who didn’t get their way and you sat here and stewed all day about it.” Jake dropped his pants kicking them out. “Stewed.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did too.” Jake pulled on the plunger to start the shower. “And I don’t want to hear about it.” Jake stepped inside the shower. “I’m tired, I’m dirty, and the last thing I need right now is to hear you bitch.” He slammed the shower door.

  “I have every right to bitch, Jake. I am your wife.”

  “Exactly.” Jake opened the door and peeked out. “And when have you ever, in our whole entire relationship, bitched at me like this?”

  “Never.”

  “Exactly.” Jake shut the door again. “So don’t start now. I don’t deal with it well.” He heard her gasping. “And quit with the breathing loud thing. It’s so female of you.”

  “God you can act so macho sometimes it drives me nuts. I really hate you, Jake.”

  “There it is. I was waiting for it. Never fails. The stock Cal phrase. You know, I was out there working hard. For you. Protecting you. Can you not say anything nice?”

  At first Cal squeaked in her anger. “No.”

  “Figures.” Jake soaped up as he spoke. “Not even thank you.”

  “No.”

  “Did you even do anything at all these past eight hours besides bitch and get madder? Did you do anything productive with your time, Cal?”

  She stopped herself from gasping again, and Cal smiled. She opened the shower door and peeked in. “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  “Good.”

  “I put lotion on Billy’s sunburn and . . . I gave him an erection. So there.” Raising her eyebrows in a gloating manner, Cal took in - with enjoyment - the instant shocked expression on Jake’s face. Calmly she shut the shower door, stepped back, hesitated, then flushed the toilet causing Jake to shriek when the water went cold. She then felt one hundred percent better, like everything was finally out of her system and over with, so Cal happily left the bathroom.

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  June 20th - 9:33 p.m.

  “Fifty-four birds, seven boars, and one dingo.” Greg rattled off results to Dr. Jefferson. “That is what they estimate they took out.”

  “All byproducts of our stasis?” Dr. Jefferson asked.

  “Yep. Amazing, huh?”

  “You are documenting this, correct?”

  “Absolutely,” Greg said with certainty. “Not only did this animal episode turn out to be participant straining, and another indeterminable win in the Reed accident poll, but . . .” He smiled. “It turned out to be some very valuable Stasis information we lacked in our Stasis research.”

  “Another means of altering the gene sequence.”

  “Yes. Exactly.” Greg sat down behind his desk. “Not only through injection, and slight blood transfusion, but now we have ingesting as well.”

  Dr. Jefferson reached for the stack of research on Greg’s desk and started to review it. “So do you think we’re done with the Stasis animals?”

  “Who knows. Possibly not. But . . .” Greg shrugged. “This one little episode is now history, that’s all that matters. It’s documented, it holds merit. And now . . . it’s time to move on.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  July 3rd - 11:00 a.m.

  “Welcome back, Gentleman.” Greg spoke to the five investors that sat around the table. “We’ve got two months left of the experiment, and we’re expecting things to start to heat up. Many of you have been here quite a bit, and we appreciate your enthusiasm. Again, I’d like to ask you to fill out the personal opinion survey forms I have in front of you. It’s important. Your opinion as investors is vital to a new future funding grant we may receive. I know it’s tedious, but I promise you, you’ll have only one more to do and that is after the experiment is over with.”

  Aldo looked at the survey. “I have a question, Haynes. Not regarding the stupid survey. But why haven’t the prisoners hatched?”

  “They have,” Greg answered. “Unfortunately, they haven’t made it to the other end of the island. They have been feeding where they are, but we believe they’ll make it.”

  Douglass raised his hand. “Are you hoping that they take a while, due to the fact you lost the Catch?”

  Greg bobbed his head side to side. “Somewhat. But losing Paul is not a worry. As you and Aldo are aware, if our prisoners do not take us to the end of the experiment and force a winner, any one of the remaining investors can pull his option, forcing us to produce a winner or no winners if that ends up being the case.” Seeing that he had their attention, Greg continued. “We’re still seeing some Stasis animal attacks here and there. Surprisingly, none of our participants have been killed by them. Reed continues to surprise me.” Greg chuckled. “That broken wrist is healing nicely. Anyhow, we have the animal attacks. The prisoner stasis, we have steady and continuous kills in region seventeen and beyond by that unknown factor which still hasn’t been determined. And we are still awaiting the eruption of our volcano. Unfortunately, that is something we can’t control. So you see, we have a lot of things that can take us with excitement to the experiment’s end, hopefully without having to pull the options.”

  Daniela was reviewing his notes. “Why has my participant, Billy, dropped in the psychological ratings? I’m confused.”

  “It’s right there.” Greg pointed. “Not always, but sometimes he gets withdrawn. Quiet. We’re watching him for mental breakage. I don’t think he’s there yet, but if he gets under any more stress, he may break before the end. Then again, it could also be just homesickness. Billy is, or was, very family oriented. Judge as well. He, too, is being quiet and withdrawn, more so than Billy. As a matter of fact, we’re thinking of having Ollie tell him that his granddaughter died a few months back.”

  Andrew Lancing, Judge’s investor, verbally displayed his displeasure. “That doesn’t see
m fair.”

  “We can play our mental option at any time,” Greg explained. “Rules are rules.”

  “Would you agree, Haynes?” Aldo called his attention. “This group is holding on well.”

  “I wasn’t at the last experiment,” Greg said. “But from what I read about it, yes. And that’s good. I think it will add to the heightened tension at the end, unlike the last experiment, which was over when, Aldo?”

  “Three weeks before deadline,” Aldo answered.

  “Exactly.” Greg nodded. “Hopefully, we can keep most of you here for the final meeting, which occurs a week before the experiment’s end, unlike last time, when Aldo was the only one there. I heard it was kind of boring.”

  Aldo snickered.

  Greg smiled. “All right. Before we continue on, I would like all of you to fill out the survey, take a few minutes, get some coffee, and then we’ll continue.” Hearing the groans as they flipped open the surveys, Greg backed up to the corner of the meeting level where Dr. Jefferson watched.

  “How do you think you’ll do this time?” Dr. Jefferson asked.

  “Well, considering that the last survey I scored and average rating of four, I think possibly a seven, maybe an eight this time around.” Greg watched them.

  “I am shocked. No hoping for a ten?”

  “Nah.” Greg shook his head. “No hoping.” He grinned. “I’m expecting that to be my score in the end.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island

  July 7th - 2:15 p.m.

  Jake, on top of Billy’s bungalow roof with Cal and Billy, peered across to the next bungalow where Rickie, Lou, and Judge were. Jake signaled to Rickie, and Rickie nodded back. He looked over to Cal who was readying her M-16. “Cal, watch your aim.”

  “Jake, please,” Cal scoffed.

  Jake shook his head and caught Lou’s attention. “Watch your aim,” he whispered loudly.

  Lou gave a thumbs up.

  “Jake?” Billy softly called out to him. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Watch that Cal doesn’t do anything stupid. Watch her. That’s your job.” Jake started to look over the roof again, but stopped and turned back to Billy. “Oh, and Bamboozle, it’s not an arousal task I gave you, so don’t let me find out you made it one.” Jake shifted his eyes down to the lower part of Billy’s anatomy, then returned to peering over the roof.

  Billy shielded his face.

  Jake waited then saw Reed walking nervously into the unity circle. “Come on Reed.” Jake beckoned nearly unheard. “Do your thing.”

  With his hands behind his back, Reed stood there. “Ear eh-ee, eh-ee, eh-ee. Um aw ow. Ear eh-ee, eh-ee, eh-ee.”

  On Reed’s final call, a loud, thundering, wet snort blasted forth and the ground vibrated with the heavy stomps. Through the two bungalows came the head of the large mutated boar. He spotted Reed and moved towards the circle.

  “Now!” Jake charged out, grabbed onto a rope, and at the same time, he and Rickie leaped down at the boar, carrying with them what looked like a homemade net. The too-small net dropped over the boar’s head holding it down, and the boar went nuts thrashing its body. It took all the strength Jake and Rickie had to hold the head still. “Cal! Lou! Now!”

  Gun fire, not rapid, but steady, rang out. Carefully aimed shots coming from both roofs of the bungalows seared into the leather skin of the boar causing it to squeal, but it still fought hard. Rickie flew up with every twitch of the wild boar’s head. Even Jake’s feet lifted off the ground.

  “Give it more!” Jake ordered out.

  Cal had to take a second to replace the clip. She returned to her firing mode over the roof’s edge. She aimed at the rear, trying just to slow it down enough for Jake to do his thing.

  Gunshots continued. Three, four, five at a time. With a clank of the dropped empty chamber and a click of a new one, Lou reloaded and shot at the bolting animal.

  Reed screamed loudly.

  “Sorry,” Lou shouted down watching Reed grab his leg and hop around. Lou shrugged and continued to fire.

  “I think that was me!” Cal yelled to Lou in her firing.

  “No it was me.” Lou shot out.

  “Are you sure?” Cal asked.

  “Positive.”

  “Okay, I didn’t want you to take the . . .” She fired a rapid sequence of shots. “Blame.”

  “Thanks!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  In the midst of their fire power and chattering, the boar suddenly began to weaken. It was not flinging Jake and Rickie about as much, and with a few more shots and a few more squeals, the boar dropped down to the ground.

  Jake dropped his end of the net, ran, and jumped on the back of the downed boar positioning himself like a bull rider just behind his neck. Pulling out the Stasis knife that looked too small to do anything, Jake lifted it high and jammed it in the back of the boar’s neck. The boar screamed out, and Jake released the guillotine blade into it. Knowing it wasn’t enough, Jake repeated his actions over and over, steady and with determination, until he created a near perforated edge in the boar’s head. Finally, the tension of the gashes Jake made gave way, and the head of the boar dropped forward, severing from the body.

  “Yes!” Jake returned his blade to his waist and slid from the back of the boar. He saw Lou, Cal, and the others fast approaching. “And no, Lou!” Jake pointed. “You cannot cook this boar.” Jake grinned and looked back at the animal.

  “Sarge!” Rickie called out with excitement to his voice. “Sarge! It’s snowing!”

  Confused, everyone looked up to the white thick drops that fell upon them.

  Jake turned his head to see Rickie, arms out and moving about in a circle happy dance singing. “Rickie!”

  “Look, Sarge!” Rickie held his head to the sky where the white stuff fell fast. He opened his mouth. “I’m catching it.”

  “Rickie, put your goddamn tongue back in your mouth and don’t eat that. It’s fuckin volcanic ash, you asshole!” Jake yelled at him.

  “Oh.” Rickie spit it out. “No wonder it wasn’t cold.” Rickie shrugged, stuck his arms back out, opened his mouth and peered up at the sky, laughing. “It’s snowing.”

  Jake gave up. He didn’t find Rickie as humorous as Cal did. “Cal.”

  “Sorry.” Cal stopped laughing and held out her hand. “How long will this fall?”

  “Hours, days. Who knows,” Jake said. “It could happen until the volcano finally blows.”

  “It looks like snow.” Cal blew it off her hand.

  “So I’ve heard.” Jake left Cal staring in awe at the falling ash. He had other things to do, like get everyone together and drag the monstrous boar out of camp before it started to smell any worse. So after securing Judge to handle a shot Reed, Jake moved onward in his task. He wouldn’t let himself mind the cleaning up phase at all, promising himself that he would not bitch about cleaning up the mess when he had so much fun creating it.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  July 9th - 11:50 p.m.

  Did Greg know? Aldo wondered. Did he realize that his voice carried in the empty midnight hour halls of the center as if over a speaker system? Aldo did. Perhaps that was why he sat in the vending area, sipping his vending machine coffee and shuddering at the bitterness. Aldo listened, and maybe he shouldn’t have, but he did. It was informative entertainment.

  “Gray,” Greg stated. “Pretty much a nuclear winter until the air flow picks up and moves that ash cloud along.”

  “It hasn’t stopped bellowing out yet,” Dr. Jefferson added. “I wouldn’t look for them to escape this cold spell until the volcano stops spitting out ash. And speaking of cold spells, did you give any thought to what I told you about whatever was doing the killings?”

  “I have since this cold spell hit the island. Two whole days, and not a body spotted. I’m beginning to think your heat theory is right.”

  “I am
also,” Dr. Jefferson said. “So, it looks like tomorrow should be an interesting day.”

  “Should be. I don’t know how much longer the three Stasis will wait it out, but they have spotted the bungalows, and they’ll move in soon.”

  “Stalking them perhaps?” Dr. Jefferson asked.

  “It wouldn’t be a Stasis if it didn’t.”

  Aldo left his coffee on the table unfinished. Not like he would miss it. He hurried quietly down the corridors back to his room, grateful he was wearing slippers. If the next day was going to bring stasis excitement, Aldo had some phone calls to make, especially since Gregory Haynes was failing to release that information, and Aldo felt compelled that it was his duty to inform the other investors.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island

  July 10th - 10:40 a.m.

  Jake felt like he had just hit the warm bed, settled into the hypnotic effect of the crackling fire, and started to doze. He needed to get a couple hours sleep. Seeing how he no longer used his nights for slumber, Jake tried to take advantage of his days for resting. Splitting the roof watch with Lou. One taking the night, one taking the day. Night time was especially important because the last thing Jake wanted was for one of those huge animals to pounce into camp while they all were tucked away unprepared. Jake was rarely unprepared, but he was when he heard the zipper fly up loudly by his ear. Laying on his side he opened his eyes. “Cal?”

  “Hey.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m slipping out.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Quarter till eleven.”

  Jake sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked at Cal. “I’ve been sleeping nearly three hours?”

  “Sweetie you passed right out.” She kissed him again. “You’re beat.”

  “Where are you going Cal?”

  “Out.” She pointed to the door wearing hiking boots, tan pants, and a black leather jacket. She picked up an M-16 and tossed it over her shoulder. “Go back to sleep for a while. We’re shoveling out.”