The Darwin Protocol: A Thriller (The Last Peak Book 1)

by William Oday

  “Jesus, Sarge!”

  Lopes emerged out of the dust and looked at the dead man at Mason’s feet.

  “You messed him up, bro!”

  The dead man’s head was a fragmented pile of brains and bone. Like he’d shoved his head in a giant garbage disposal.

  Mason noticed something sticking out of the corpse’s side. A syringe. The needle still embedded in the side of the stomach. He pulled it out and read the label on the clear tube.

  Epinephrine.

  Medical adrenaline.

  The syringe was their first confirmation of what became commonplace as the battle continued. Muj fighters doped out of their minds on epinephrine, methamphetamines, heroine, and cocaine. The potent cocktail kept them alive and fighting far beyond what any normal body could absorb.

  It made them a deadly dangerous foe.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  The Last Day

  Venice, California

  Theresa pulled a stack of books out of her backpack and a paper fell on the floor. Holly picked it up and opened it without asking for permission. She didn’t need to. Best friends didn’t have to ask to get in your business. That was their job.

  “Whoa,” she said. “Five days detention. You’re a bad girl now.”

  “Shut up,” Theresa said as she held her hand out for the note.

  Holly teased it in the air.

  “My mom won’t want me hanging out with you when she finds out.”

  “Don’t tell her! I’m serious!”

  “Kidding. No way she’ll hear it from me. Where else would I spend every day after school?”

  “You could come to detention with me,” Theresa said with a smirk.

  “Sounds thrilling. Really. But no thanks. I heard you have to listen to motivational speeches the whole time.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, like how to be a more responsible person and stuff like that.”

  “It’s not like I’ll even make it to detention. My parents are going to kill me first.”

  Theresa snatched the paper back and stared at it.

  “I have to get it signed and returned on Monday.”

  Holly waved her off.

  “That’s no big deal. I’ll forge a signature for you. Use my left hand so it can never be traced back to the source.”

  “Holly, you’re a criminal mastermind. But it won’t work. Apparently my flagging commitment requires a parent conference next week too.”

  Holly’s eyes opened wide.

  “You’re screwed, girl.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Can’t you say it wasn’t your fault you were late today? I mean that accident is a legitimate excuse if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “I did!”

  “That didn’t get you out of it?”

  “The problem was that the other six tardies didn’t have such good excuses. I should’ve named names. Rolled over on you.”

  “Why, Miss Theresa West, are you blaming me?”

  “Blaming you would imply there was some uncertainty about your being at fault.”

  Holly giggled.

  Theresa stuffed the paper into a desk drawer. “I’ll deal with it Monday morning. No reason to ruin the weekend.”

  “You are the bad influence on me, Theresa West!”

  Despite the foreboding gloom of getting busted, Theresa laughed. Wasn’t that what a best friend was for? To pull you up off the ground and make you laugh?

  Holly could always make her laugh.

  Theresa finished unloading her backpack. Some fruit she didn’t get around to eating. Some stinky socks that had been in there for God knows how long. Her house key on the LA Galaxy keychain. Her phone.

  Holly flopped on her bed like it was her own. It kind of was.

  “Anyway, tell me more about the encounter in the Principal’s office.”

  Theresa dug through the remaining compartments of the backpack.

  “It was just what you’d expect. All heavy disappointment on his part and fake repentance on mine.”

  “I’m talking about Elio. Oh, I guess you were, too.”

  Theresa giggled.

  “Haha.”

  “Come on.” Holly flicked her tongue in the air. “I want the hot, juicy bits.”

  “Gross, Holly!”

  Holly threw her hands up like the world had gone crazy and she was the last sane person to understand it.

  “What? It’s biology. It’s nature.”

  She circled her fingers and pumped her hand at her mouth while simultaneously poking her cheek out with her tongue.

  “Oh my God! Stop it!”

  “What? Someone has to hold your hand through the baby steps.”

  “I know all about that stuff.”

  “You do? Since when? Where was I when all this happened?”

  Theresa put her hands on her hips and shook her backside at her friend.

  “You were probably working that night. I know those street corners get busy.”

  “You’re so naughty,” Holly said. “Seriously. What are you going to do when it’s time to go there with Elio?”

  “Gross, Holly! God. You’re like a dog with a bone. A boner bone.”

  Holly bit her lower lip and rolled it out.

  “I like big bones.”

  Theresa rolled her eyes. She knew Holly had a little more experience than she did, but she didn’t love dwelling on it. It made her feel lacking.

  “Look, don’t worry about it. I’ll show you how. What else are best friends for?”

  Theresa could think of quite a few other things.

  Holly pointed to her desk.

  “Hand me that banana.”

  “You are not seriously going to do what I think you’re going to do, are you?”

  “I’m going to make sure you don’t hurt him, or yourself. You can thank me later.”

  Holly held her hand out.

  “I’m waiting.”

  Theresa could tell she wasn’t going to give up on this one. And besides, Theresa was curious about how it worked. Holly had tried to glory in her few exploits a few times in the past, but Theresa had freaked out and changed the subject.

  Something about Elio made her want to know more. It freaked her out too. But in a good way.

  Theresa passed over the requested item of fruit.

  Holly examined it with an expert eye. Or at least faked it really good.

  “I’d say seven inches.” She circled a thumb and pointer finger around it. “Bigger than you’re likely to run into.”

  Theresa blushed. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

  “Like with fruit,” Holly said, “you want to use a delicate touch. You’re not playing tug of war with Max’s favorite rope.”

  She stroked the length of the yellow fruit. She delicately turned down the peel.

  “You won’t have to worry much about getting the banana ripe. Smile at a teenage boy and their bananas are ready to blow.”

  She winked.

  “If you know what I mean.”

  Theresa rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but giggle.

  “Get a firm grip at the base, but don’t choke it to death.”

  She held the base and brought the fleshy fruit to her lips. She kissed it.

  “Disgusting, Holly!”

  “What? Kiss it. Make friends.”

  “Right on the, there, on the tip?”

  “To start, yes.”

  Holly licked the tip.

  Theresa grimaced. Maybe this was a mistake. Give Holly an inch and she’d take a mouthful.

  Holly licked the length of the firm fruit. She went up and down like she was cleaning the thing.

  “I’m about to vomit, Holly.”

  “Girl, if this part makes you squirmy, you’re in real trouble.”

  She brought the tip to her lips and lowered her mouth on it. A little fruit disappeared and then she pulled it out.

  “A little at a time to start. To get you both used to it.”<
br />
  She kept that up and slowly worked her way down lower. In a minute, she had the whole disappearing into her mouth and then reappearing like some kind of farm fresh magic act.

  Theresa still felt icked out, but fascinated, too.

  “The whole thing?”

  Holly nodded without stopping.

  “Don’t you choke?”

  She pulled it out of her mouth.

  “It takes practice.” She held the banana out to Theresa. “Try it.”

  “You’ve been slobbering all over it. No way!”

  “You’re worried about my germs? Think about what we’re talking about here. About what’s going into your mouth.”

  Theresa pictured it for a second and her body trembled. Partly from revulsion and partly from something else. Something tingly that launched a million butterflies in her stomach.

  Her phone buzzed.

  Saved by the bell.

  Holly jumped up and grabbed it.

  “Speaking of the gorgeous devil himself!”

  She flipped the screen toward Theresa.

  Elio had sent her a text message.

  Elio> Stay Safe! Insanity at your Whole Foods!

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  She clicked the provided link and a news broadcast segment filled the screen. A local news anchor that Theresa vaguely recognized set a paper down and looked into the camera.

  “Violence erupts at the Whole Foods at Lincoln and Rose. During the lunch time rush, an unidentified white male wounded actor Ryan—”

  A publicity pic from Death Before Life filled the corner of the screen.

  “Tell me his face didn’t get hurt!” Holly screamed. “He was so gorgeous.”

  “Shhhhh!”

  “… LAPD officer was working at the time. Witnesses say he confronted the gunman and was attempting to peacefully resolve the confrontation when the unidentified man opened fire, seriously wounding the actor and killing the officer in a deadly storm of bullets.”

  “It’s crazy,” Holly said as she shook her head. “I masturbated to his abs two nights ago.”

  “No way.”

  “It’s true.”

  “I mean, to his abs? That’s kind of specific, isn’t it?”

  “Have you ever seen his stomach?”

  “… say that a third person, described as a large Latino male, pulled a gun and tried to stop the rampage, but the killer escaped before police arrived at the scene.”

  The feed cut to a clip of a frazzled looking girl wearing a burgundy Whole Foods smock.

  “It was a regular shift like any other, and then Ryan turned up in my line. He let me take a picture with him. He kissed my cheek! I’m never going to wash this cheek!”

  She touched the apparently blessed cheek.

  “Then everything went crazy. This insane white man pulled out a gun and shot Ryan. He shot the officer next and probably woulda killed me, too, but this vato guy pulled his own gun and ran him off.”

  She shook her head and burst into tears.

  “It happened right in front of me. They’re still scrubbing the blood off the floor. And the guy looked so normal. That was the crazy thing. Just some average Joe white guy. But isn’t that who it always is? What’s wrong with white folks these days?”

  The feed cut back to the anchor as a drawing appeared in the upper corner of the screen.

  “A forensic artist has sketched out what the suspect may look like. If you see anyone resembling this man, police warn you not to approach him as he is armed and dangerous. If you think you’ve seen this man, call 911 immediately.”

  The video paused as the final frame finished.

  The suspect looked like nobody and anybody as those sketches often did. He wore an LA Galaxy cap. Dark glasses. Late twenties to early fifties.

  Why did this maniac have to sully her favorite team? The LA Galaxy shouldn’t have been associated with this madman. Theresa handed the phone to Holly. That Whole Foods was less than two miles away. They went to it sometimes. Not frequently because her parents complained about how crazy expensive it was.

  But still. Sometimes.

  A murderer gunned people down in her neighborhood. He could be roaming the streets this very minute looking for new victims. She hoped LAPD found him and locked him up forever.

  And to think that there wouldn’t be a Death Before Life 2 any time soon. Or that the officer woke up that morning having no idea that this was his last day on earth. It was scary how random death could be.

  Wrong place at the wrong time.

  Holly looked at the screen closer.

  “That kind of looks like your dad.”

  Theresa took another look.

  Yeah, it kind of did. Then again, her dad looked like a million middle-aged, white guys. Her dad would’ve taken care of that creep if he’d been there. She knew that for sure. He protected people. That was his job.

  Holly grabbed the phone and started typing.

  Theresa stood in disbelief. How could things like this happen? Happen so near to her life?

  She fumbled over the questions when Holly handed her phone back.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “What?”

  Holly flopped back on the bed and looked at the ceiling.

  “Can you believe it? Doesn’t seem real. Like it’s a hoax or something. You think it’ll end up like when a famous person fakes their own death just to get out of the spotlight for a while? I heard his supermodel girlfriend dumped him. Maybe he just doesn’t want to face the press about it.”

  “I think it’s real, Holly.”

  Holly twisted her mouth up, her eyes sad.

  “I know. I just wish it weren’t.”

  Theresa looked down at her phone and read the conversation.

  Theresa> So crazy! So sad!

  Elio> I know right?! Might be a good idea to stay inside tonight.

  Theresa> I am. Going to go to bed early… to think about you.

  “Holly! Oh my God! I can’t believe you did that! He’s going to think I’m a total idiot!”

  “He’s into you, Theresa. Now you don’t have to do all that awkward sixth grade note passing crap.”

  She drew in the air abover her with an exaggerated, idiotic flair.

  “Do you like me? If yes, check this box. If no, check this box.”

  “You just ruined my life!”

  “You have so much to learn. Luckily, you have me to teach you.”

  “Am I supposed to thank you?”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I didn’t say thank you!”

  “You didn’t have to,” Holly said with a smile.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  The girls lay on their stomachs looking off the edge of the bed. Light from the TV splashed into the dark corners of the room. Theresa rolled a tattered bit of cloth between her fingers. Lambchops had been her number one stuffie for over ten years. Though his prominent position was more memory than reality now, she still reached for him sometimes. He stared up at her with his one remaining eye button.

  She squeezed him tight and looked away from the screen.

  “I hate this part.”

  “This is my favorite part!” Holly said. “You know this scene ends with him getting his shirt ripped off.”

  “That’s not the part I’m talking about. What about the girl that gets it just before that? The one he was too late to save?”

  “Yea, that’s unlucky. She could’ve seen his luscious abs if she’d made it just a few more minutes.”

  “Fast forward to that.”

  “No! You can’t ruin the build up.”

  Theresa didn’t look up.

  “Tell me when this part is over.”

  “Okay, it’s over.”

  Theresa looked up. She shouldn’t have.

  A dark shadow crept down a dimly lit hall. The shadow’s outline on the wall was not human. The shadow opened a door at the end of the hall. Through the crack, a teenage girl lay back on a bed with a laptop
in her lap. Her fingers clacked on the keyboard. Her head bopped to the rhythm emanating from headphones.

  She glanced up at the open door and her head stopped.

  “Dad, I swear I’m doing homework. Close the door!”

  The girl watched the door, waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

  A keening wail started softly in the background. Like crystal dragged across a chalkboard. A resonant, grating tone that stirred the hackles on your back, if you had any.

  Theresa wanted to look away, but couldn’t. She knew what was going to happen, she’d seen Death Before Life at least ten times. It was still scary, though.

  The girl pushed her laptop to the side and yanked the headphones off her head.

  “Dad, is that you?”

  She rose from the bed, her body filled with an apprehension that guaranteed something bad was about to happen. She stepped toward the door.

  “Dad?”

  Her bedside light flickered and then went dark. The screen went dark.

  Theresa held her breath and gritted her teeth. That girl needed to get out of there. Not walk right into it. She had a big front window there. She needed to jump out of that thing and run for her life! Theresa wanted to yell at her to not be an idiot.

  A light flicked on and the girl’s face was illuminated from below by her phone. She shined it in front of her as she took another step closer. She stopped a few feet from the door. Unsure.

  “You’d better not be joking! I’m serious!”

  Theresa covered her face with Lambchops. Unfortunately, the old stuffie was equal parts cloth and holes so she could still peek through.

  The girl took another step closer. A growing fear crept into her face.

  A huge body ran in front of the TV and landed on Theresa’s bed.

  Theresa screamed. The B movie slasher flick kind.

  “Max! You gave me a heart attack!”

  A long, wet tongue rolled out of his mouth and licked her face.

  “Ewww! Yuck! You found some more of Mr. Piddles’ poo. Disgusting.”

  Max turned to Holly, his tongue leading the turn. She rolled off the bed and jumped away.

  “No way, Max! Keep that tongue to yourself.”

  Theresa wrestled Max to the bed, making sure to keep his mouth facing away. Max was better than Lambchops for snuggling when you were scared. If she was going to have to suffer through the scary parts, Max was going to have to do his part to make it bearable.