Second Genesis

by Eric Williams

  Ezra and Marine had left in a hurry after Xairin sharing that vision of what he went through. Ezra was in such an overwhelmed state from it, he had totally forgot to mention anything about K2. That didn’t even dawn on him until they were outside his apartment complex and Marine was behind the wheel just as Ezra was fastening his seatbelt.

  Xairin went back to the refrigerator and got a second bottle of blood and chugged it down without thinking. He just wanted to relax a little.

  For Alex, he had other details on his list that needed attendance. Knowing what Xairin had been through was hard enough, and honestly a little overwhelming. For Alex, such a thing, would have resulted in hunting down those responsible and eating them, or ripping them to pieces. Getting away with it was easy for an immortal, despite technological advances. They left no fingerprints unless they chose too. They didn’t shed skin, or hair like a human did. When they did, it simply turned into a cellular residue resembling ash that was genetically unrecognizable. Not to mention, turning invisible came in handy for all immortals.

  “Are you going to be ok?”

  Xairin was going through the motions. He couldn’t shake that feeling he had when they forced him to moan while they shoved that glass inside him over and over. He tried to forget it, but after showing the detective what happened, it was lingering. Xairin grabbed another bottle of blood and downed it like an alcoholic would when they got their hands a 40oz bottle of malt liquor. He slammed it on the counter. “I will be just fine. I just need some time to myself.”

  Alex shrugged. “I can come back and check on you. Besides, Miss Rutherford wants me to make sure you’re safe and sound. I can come back later tonight if you’d like?”

  Xairin turned around and scoffed. “Look, I appreciate Miss Rutherford arranging the ride home, and the protective detail, but I just want some time alone today, and maybe tomorrow. I need time to process things now that I’m home, and as much as I would love a distraction, I need that time to be alone.”

  Alex nodded. “I will have my contact number added to your contact list. Just log into your civ file. You can reach me anytime.”

  Xairin was grateful, just annoyed. “Thanks. I do appreciate it.”

  _____

  The following evening.

  Xairin had slept all night, all day, and into the following night. He woke up hungry and yawned his way to the fridge and downed another bottle of pig’s blood. He was sloppy about it. He was dressed in only red boxers and dripped some of the contents of his bottle on his chin, and his subtle red hairy chest. He was about to take his finger and lick it, when his skin began absorbing it like a sponge. Xairin had heard of this happening in the research facility but had never experienced it firsthand. “That’s useful.” He said under his breath.

  Xairin made it to the shower. He pressed the hand print module and felt the several powerful jets begin pressure washing his naked body. He didn’t bother exploring himself this time. He just hoped the water would wash away how he was feeling like he usually did. Instead of self-pity in how he looked, it was self-pity in what happened to him. He put his hand forward bracing the wall as he leaned. His smooth back felt better as the hot water seemed to massage his tense muscles.

  As he stood there trying to relax with his eyes closed tightly shut, something happened. He saw through the eyes of the bat responsible for his condition. He could see as if he was the bat. She was looking down, circling scavengers. Scavengers were a group of nomadic people that resisted a world government rule. They were hiding out in the ruins of New York City. He could make out the delipidated buildings, and structures of Broadway. They were camping. He saw barrels with flames lighting the camp and homeless looking guards patrolling the perimeter, while women, children, and the elderly ate what looked like rats on sticks that had been roasted over a fire.

  Xairin had never understood why people wanted to live like that. He understood that having freedom was a good thing, but what they chose in comparison to civilization drew his mind into a clustered mess. It then dawned on him, he was about to experience something he didn’t want.

  The bat looked to her side. He saw seven other humanoid bats circling with her. Their arms had developed into their wings, along with ten-inch fingers which had formed where the single claw used to be. Their faces looked like monstrous dogs, licking their teeth while they prepared for the attack. He sized them up, each one had to be five feet in height or taller. Their wingspans made up for their human sized length.

  The albino looked down. He could see what she was targeting. It was a small child dressed in dirty green clothes. The child she was targeting was a young boy with long blonde hair. He couldn’t have been older than six, Xairin thought. He could feel her descending downward. He saw her clawed feet prepare themselves like a bird of prey would. He could hear the screams accompanied by gunfire. The next screams he heard was that of a child. He could feel the child’s sixty-pound weight as she flew up, it didn’t cumber her at all. He felt it kicking and could hear the terror in the child’s voice. Gunfire erupted. Crude, old fashioned gunfire. They missed her. Xairin could feel her drop the child on a roof top of one of the buildings and make one pass before gliding downward. The look on the little boy’s dirty face caused Xairin to fall in the shower and gasp. He couldn’t bear to see what would happened next and had mustered enough willpower to break the link for now.

  He had displaced his shoulder blade with that fall. He landed right on his back. The pain from the fall sent stinging pain all around the area, followed by the sensation of warmth as his body healed itself. Even with the pain gone, his breathing was still pretty fast. The shock of knowing what had just happened, feeling as if he was the one doing it, ate at him. He pulled himself up, and then knelt forward, sitting on his knees. He shook his head from side to side and started crying. He knew what had happened. Had the link persisted it might have driven him mad. Now the boy’s face was burnt into his memory.

  He got out of the shower and made his way to his bedroom where he put on a loosely fitting black polo shirt and jeans. He had to dig through four leather belts before he found one that would keep his pants up. Sure, he was pleased at his new body, but now he needed new clothing. Nothing he had would really fit.

  Xairin took to sitting at his computer. The flat screen lit up as the blue lights from the chassis behind it glowed like something from a spaceship would. He logged into his checking account, noticed the balance was getting to where he started to panic. He had five grand in a savings account, and transferred it over to bring it up to where he could at least buy a few outfits to get him through until he could do a few massage sessions. Speaking of that. His thoughts raced. He logged into the medical site for his patient list. He noticed half his patients had reassigned themselves. He saw at the top where his species listing had been updated by the society. He knew he would lose some patients given he had been on ice for a while, literally, but with his new existence came an entirely different reason for patients finding other therapists.

  He was going to have to contact what patients he had left and fast. He had just enough funds to pay the bills for two months at best given his rent being so high. He sent out an alert to his patients, along with a customary email attachment detailing he was back in operation and could see them. All they had to do now was email him back, or log into their patient portal and set up a time for him to do his house calls.

  _____

  Plaza Fashion.

  Plaza Fashion was one of Xairin’s favorite places to shop. It was fourteen story building with pulsating lights on the exterior, with its name in white lights. Each floor had different designations based on gender, and style. Xairin’s favorite floor was the eighth, but now that he had trimmed down significantly, he had to start on the fourth.

  It was like any other clothing store these days. Instead of mannequins there were droids modeling the clothing lines which made it easier to see how they moved while the body was in motion. The store still had people working a
t decent hourly wages opposed to commissions. The store line itself was one of a few companies that survived the trade wars and had remained independent of government ownership.

  He had to try on several shirts and pants before he found a few that worked. There was no doubt he was a 34-inch waist now, with a bubble butt that made finding the right size a little interesting. As for shirts, a large did ok given his broad frame, though no matter which shirt he picked out, the width of his new muscular arms made the sleeves snug.

  Xairin was in the checkout line, waiting on his turn to reach the droid running the scanners. He had managed to find two pairs of scrubs that he liked, black in color. Everything else was leisurely or underwear.

  He left the building carrying four plastic bags to his silver dronemobile that he had flown over in. It was still in the parking garage to his apartment building attached to the charging cables, which thankfully was one less thing he had to worry about. He loaded the bags in the back, and came around the font to get in. “Xairin?” He heard a voice whimper out.

  Xairin looked up to see his friend Rory standing there. The man was jaw dropped. Rory had no idea Xairin was even alive. The Haze had thrown him a funeral party in his honor, given the owner and him were such good friends. No news of Xairin’s infection had spread, nor him being one of the ones that resurged. Only that he had died, and his body had been found. K2 had got that word out to Topher before K2 vanished from Xairin’s life for the time being.

  Xairin got out of his jeep and could see his friend getting teary eyed quick. He walked over to Rory and lowered his head. “Are you ok?”

  Rory stood there scratching his blonde head, dumfounded. He was gasping for breath. “You’re alive?” That was the only thing the man could ask or say for that matter. When he finally caught his breath, he was able to ask something else. “You’re… one of them…?”

  Xairin noticed a bench nearby and figured it was best to tell his friend what had happened. The two sat there for almost an hour. Rory’s mouth couldn’t have opened any further from the shock of it all. Xairin also had a similar experience when Rory told him about the funeral celebration Topher threw in his honor. Xairin hadn’t given much thought as to how his friends were doing, or how they were going to react. He had only given thought as to adjusting to his new life first.

  “Everyone thinks I’m dead?”

  Rory could only nod slowly while checking out Xairin’s new body. He even went as far as to feel Xairin’s arms. “Holy fucking shit, you’re solid as a rock.”

  Xairin rolled his eyes. “OK, I’m solid. How is everyone? How did Topher take it?”

  Rory slowly shook his head. “Baxter, Toph, Lucretia, everyone took it pretty fucking hard Xair. I mean… K2 said he had to identify your body dude.”

  Xairin leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees while looking out at the busy street. “K2 is gone. He was reassigned to someone else. I guess I didn’t think to contact anyone after I got home.” Xairin was a little depressed about knowing his friends thought he was dead, and how they reacted.

  Xairin told Rory everything. About being drugged, what happened in the sewer, everything. “I want to see Toph and everyone, but I’m not sure i can go back to the Haze yet. I’m still dealing with it all.”

  Rory took up a similar pose. He couldn’t express how sorry he felt for Xairin. “I will break the news for you. I’m not sure I could go back either if something like that happened to me. That’s a lot to deal with Xairbear.”

  Xairin smirked. “I hate that nickname.”

  Rory took a look at Xairin’s leanly built muscular physique and scoffed. “Yeah, you're going to need a new nickname.”

  Xairin looked up. Humans couldn’t see the stars easily for all the LED lighting the city had, but immortals could. It calmed him. “That would be really nice of you, you know, telling everyone I’m ok and alive for that matter.”

  “Man, I gotta ask, are you like one of these Alpha vamps?”

  Xairin shook his head with a slight grin. “No, just a Delta. Honestly I’m glad I’m not able to turn anyone.”

  Rory scoffed. “WHY NOT? Immortals are making bank of selling, well you know, immortality.”

  Xairin’s eyebrows raised. “WHAT?”

  Rory nodded. “It's been in the news dog. The Aeonians can’t turn someone, but the Immortium can man. They’ve been selling immortality for instalment payments and stuff. It's like, how that society of night makes their money bro. Since living forever is priceless, you pay a monthly fee, for like, ever dude.”

  Xairin looked off to the side. It made perfect sense. He listened to Rory go into a little detail. “Dude, they’re running adds on media streams. For $200 currency a month, for the rest of your immortal life you can become an immortal.” Rory told him some 300,000 people worldwide had signed up and become vampires, while another 250,000 had become werewolves or werecats and some mer. He did the math in his head within a split second, 110 million a month from the instalment plans alone was a quick way to fund the organization. Xairin in that moment, couldn’t help but wonder if those who had drank the blood of an Alpha or Grand Alpha were being mentally willed to pay something similar, if so, that funding was surly much greater.

  “That explains how they were able to establish themselves so quickly. I mean, that's $110,000,000 a month.” Xairin said lowly.

  Rory nodded. “Not to mention, they’re selling their blood to medical supply companies and research facilities. Let's face it bro, your blood can cure a lot of shit. I hear it can even cure Mellitus-32.”

  Xairin shook his head. “NO, you have to be turned into an immortal for that to work out. But there’s an awful lot of people living in quarantine that had it. Civs and milz alike. I heard a few rumors about military people being offered Immortium assimilation cells in exchange for reenlistment. I’m sure the society did the same for civs.”

  Xairin continued his curiosity. “So, they’re selling our blood too?”

  Rory nodded. “Yeah man. My grandmother actually got a dose of it two weeks ago to help cure her skin cancer she had going on. The insurance paid for it, I saw the EOB, $400.00 for a one-ounce vial bro. She had to sign a waiver and shit because she’s now considered a thrall for like the next year?”

  Xairin sighed. “I had to take a class on thralls, well a mandated how to be a vampire type class probably better explains it. Anyhow, thralls are people that drink an immortals blood. Basically, it bonds you to the immortal who supplied it. From what I understood in quarantine was that it attacks your fat cells and converts them into some super version of stem cells, as well as making some really potent antibodies. The cells remain in your body basically for a year or longer.”

  Rory looked over at Xairin while feeling his belly. “Dude, give me some of your blood then? I’ll be your thrall if it helps me lose a few pounds.” Xairin rolled his eyes while Rory realized what he had just said and segued to something else. “So, Xairin, what are you going to do now? Do they have any leads on the people that… Hurt you?”

  Xairin shook his head. “Nope. I gave them what I knew. That’s all I could do for now.”

  Rory was about to say something else when Xairin seemed dizzy for a moment.

  He felt his head, he rubbed his temples. It looked like he was having a sensitive headache, but he wasn't. He was seeing through the bat’s eyes again. She was hunting in New York City still. He could see the streets below pass briskly as she flew. He could see the electric outlines of her biosonar feeding back into her brain until she found what she was looking for, more scavengers. She had located a small group of four camping inside a building. One of them had scratches on his leg that had become infected. She could smell the infection as could Xairin, but it was the dried blood outlining the wound that really drew her in. Her senses were compelled, hardwired to acquire the humanoid genes that the alien DNA pressed them to hunt for. She simply looked down, and sniffed the air, the receptors in her nose did the rest. Xairin could feel the c
ompelling urge to feed on the humanoid genes, and not only that, but a primal urge to infect them. He could feel her canines quivering with potency as the assimilation glands began to swell up.

  Everything echoed while he sat there. He couldn’t see her, only what she saw. He could see her clawed furry white hands walking on the ground. He could feel her running inside the ruins. She leaped from decrepit metal beams, to what was left of walls protecting the small camp like a frog clinging to surfaces as she moved. She moved so fast that the people sitting around the campfire didn’t even know she was there. Xairin saw the filthy face of a woman trying to clean a handgun come into his sights quickly. He knew the bat had her head tilted to the side, based on the angle of the woman’s jaw line when he noticed with the blood squirting into the air. He could feel gunshots, piercing his sides, but it didn’t slow the creature down. Xairin however fell off the bench breathing heavily, breaking the link once more.

  Xairin sat there with his eyes wide open, feeling his stomach. His side still stung from the link. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Rory demanded.

  Xairin was startled. This was twice in the same night. This time, he could taste the adrenaline enriched blood in his mouth. It was almost like a drug to the bat. Xairin could feel that. He sat up slowly, a disturbed expression was looming across his face. He didn’t know what to say. “Just a vamp thing. Growing pains, I guess.”