Regenesis (Book 1): Impact (19 page)

“So
I’m a suspect because–”

“You
aren’t a suspect,” Sage stopped him. “We just need to ask a few questions
before we let you go and we need to record them at the station along with your
testimony of the accident.”

Mario
Evanston reluctantly agreed. Once the medics agreed to release him he joined
the two Detectives and they headed back to the station.

--          --          --

“Do
you think it’s such a bright idea to bring Evanston here?” Chief Johnson asked
Detective Sage.

“I’m
not too sure about that yet,” Sage admitted.

“But
you do think he’ll be the eleventh victim?”

Sage
nodded.

“How
soon will you know?” Felton asked.

“If
he doesn’t manifest any ability in a few days we’ll release him,” Sage told
them.

“A
few days? Do you really think he’ll agree to stay for that long?” the chief
asked. “We can’t detain him and you know that.”

Johnson,
Sage, and Felton all stood behind the one-way mirror and watched Mario Evanston
as he waited in the small interrogation room. Sage wanted to keep him there as
it was in the heart of the station and only had one door and no windows. If he
was Cladis he would only have one exit and if he wasn’t there was only one way
in to get to Evanston.

“I
take it you haven’t told him about any of this, have you?” asked the Chief.

“We
were about to.”

Sage
and Felton left the room and entered into the small room to talk with Evanston,
who waited for them uneasily. He asked as soon as the door opened, “When can I
go home? I answered you questions, didn’t I?”

“Yes
you did, but the situation is somewhat more complex than you realize,” Sage
told him. “You see, we have reason to suspect the accident was actually
perpetrated by someone who wanted to kill Angela Walsh and if that is the case,
we are worried he is going to try to come and kill you next.”

Mario
looked at them both and asked why he would be someone’s target. “I haven’t done
anything to anyone.”

“Unfortunately
that isn’t really why he would come after you,” Felton told him. “You see, this
person has been targeting select people throughout the city–”

“Wait,
a serial killer?”

Felton
hesitated but confirmed it. “My partner and I have been tracking him for nearly
two months now and we feel that we’re closing in on him.”

“Well
who is he?”

“We’re
not sure of his actual identity,” Sage began, but we do know that he’s
following a pattern and that if you are his next target, he will try to kill
you.”

“How
will you know if I’m next up though? Does this killer leave a note or a picture
of who he’s targeting?”

Felton
chuckled, “I wish…”

Sage
hesitated to say it, “We’ll know if you…we’ll know if your behavior changes in
the next couple of days.”

“Changes
like how?”

“If
you begin to exhibit odd…talents…”

“Would
you just tell me what it is already?”

“If
you gain…super powers,” he said flatly.

Mario
stared at him, and blinked slowly, “Super…powers? Like flyin’ around the room,
catching bullets in my hand, breaking solid concrete walls with my bare hands
super powers?”

“Yes…”

“You’ve
gotta be kidding me…” the man laughed, “Did you expect me to believe that?”

“No,”
Felton told him. “But it’s unfortunately the truth.”

Mario
stopped laughing. He looked at both of their stone-dead serious faces and
paled. “You…You two aren’t joking.”

“Not
in the least bit,” Sage sighed.

“How,
how did you find out about this?”

“It’s
a long, complicated story we don’t really have time to go into at the moment,”
Felton told him.

“But
if I gain super powers, then what do we do?” he asked.

“If
you do gain powers we’ll keep a twenty-four hour a day watch on you and if the
murderer does try to come to kill you we’ll meet him and apprehend him.”

“Okay,
but does this serial killer have his own super powers?”

Sage
let out a breath and admitted that they were unsure. If he does though, we’ll
find a way to stop him.”

“How
can you be so sure you can?” Evanston asked. “What if he’s got lasers that come
out of his eyes and he’s bulletproof?”

Felton
stopped him. “We don’t know anything about this guy, so there’s no use in
overreacting.”

“But–”

“We’re
going to handle things Mario,” Felton continued, “Just let us handle things on
our part. If you happen to discover some sort of power, let us know, and then
we’ll take precautions to keep you safe.” He reminded Evanston that they
weren’t even sure that he was the next target. “Just try to keep calm for now,
alright?”

The
detectives walked out of the room and regrouped with Chief Johnson, who asked,
“The kid does raise a good point. What if Cladis does have his own super
powers?”

Sage
didn’t know how to answer them. He looked at the two of them and asked, “How do
you kill a super hero?”

---*---

Chapter
7

August
22
^nd
, 2029

1:15
PM

Bothell,
Washington

Although
he appreciated the small help Jessica was, Nick felt he needed to continue to
investigate on his own. The event frightened him, as well as angered and
confused him. None of it made any sense to him, as such he felt powerless to
evoke any sort of change to the problem. Though he doubted he could truly make
any difference in the matter, Nick felt he needed to at least try.

He
sat at a computer in the King County Library in Bothell and tried to research
the man Jessica found called the MP3 Assassin. Nick failed to uncover anything
though, from the man’s real name to his recent whereabouts or even a
photograph. He continually found information about some of the more famous
assassinations he was responsible for, yet the articles themselves were useless
for anything beyond a headline. The lack of information and Jessica’s thoughts
on the situation caused doubt to swell within him.

Nick’s
poor researching ethic and rather insufficient knowledge of how to accurately
perform internet searches only proved to be a hindrance to him. He started with
the most basic search engine, typed in relatively vague search terms, and
started from the top and worked his way down the list in hope of answers. The
immediate information he received was useless or completely irrelevant; it only
served as a confirmation to what he already knew. In short, the only thing the
process garnered was a reminder of why he loathed research in the first place.

Nick
rubbed his forehead out of frustration as another useless website loaded on the
rather slow computer. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he answered it
without checking the ID or abiding to the library’s cell phone policy.

“Hello?”

“How
are you doing?”

“Jordan?”

“Yeah.”

“I-I’m
okay,” he lied. “I’m at the library.”

“Why?”

“I’m
t-trying to d-distract m-myself for a while,” he lied again. “Wh-What are you
doing?”

“I’m
spending the day with Rachel. She’s ordering coffee or something so I thought I
might just quickly call to see how you were holding up.”

“Thanks,
b-but I-I’m getting better.” He took a shaky breath and asked Jordan how he
was.

“I’m
feeling better too. Rachel’s been a great help, considering how she’s been with
me a lot of the time since it happened.” He sighed over the line and admitted,
“I’m thinking about finding some sort of shrink or therapist though.”

“Why?”

“I’m
having pretty bad nightmares,” he revealed. “That and my hands won’t stop
shaking.”

He
frowned. “Jordan, its only b-been s-six days. It’s going t-to t-take time.”

“I
know…” He changed the subject, “Did you ever call Amy?” Nick muttered that he
hadn’t and Jordan groaned and asked why he hesitated.

“I-I’ve
been–”

As
soon as Jordan realized that Nick had no reason he cut him off. “Nick, call
her.”

“Why?”

“She
needs to talk to you.” Jordan thanked Rachel over the call and Nick assumed he
sipped his beverage and set it on a table before he continued, “Amy’s gotta be
freaked out and because of that you need to call her.”

“B-But
why me?”

“Because
she likes you and if she could talk to you she’d probably start to feel
better.”

Nick
felt his heart leap in his chest. He hadn’t realized it.

Jordan
apologized and told Nick he needed to go. “Call her though, okay?”

Nick
closed his phone and remained silent. He shut his eyes tightly and focused on
what Jordan said. Nick wasn’t accustomed to anyone having feelings for him and
it alienated him.  He’d never been on a date in his life or even fared well in
general friendships outside of Jessica, though he believed they would be the
last people on earth to ever fall in love with one another. The idea that
anyone might even one day love him made him sick. Nick kept his eyes closed and
took a few breaths before he opened them and logged off the computer.

He
left the library and dialed Amy as soon as he was outside. It rang three times
before she answered, “Hello?”

He
took one apprehensive breath and started, “Hello, A-Amy? It’s Nick.”

“Oh,
hey, how are you?”

“Fine.”
He wavered where he stood and as he felt uneasy he decided he should take a
seat on the walkway with his back to the building. Although he hoped to quell
the restlessness he felt, he didn’t find much comfort. His stomach churned and
his ears burned. He simply continued, “Jordan g-gave me your n-number. He
th-thought I should c-call you to m-m-make sure you’re okay.”

She
giggled over the line and Nick’s heart stopped. Amy thanked him, “I was going
to call you, but I wasn’t sure if you were busy or not.”

He
thought to say that he wasn’t ever busy but refrained. She asked how he was
holding up, he told her, “I-I’m managing. H-How about you?”

“I
still can’t sleep,” she admitted. “I have nightmares when I do. It’s always a
dream about that guy coming after me.”

Nick
wanted to say it wouldn’t happen, but truthfully he felt the same way, that the
killer might come after him too. He lied and told her that would never happen,
“Wh-Why would anyone want t-t-to kill you?”

She
let out a breath and told him she knew it was silly. “I don’t think anyone
would, I just…I’m just scared. I mean, who would want to kill Crystal of all
people?”

“I-I’m
not sure.”

“That’s
why I’m scared.”

Nick
wasn’t sure what to say. He thought to tell her everything would be fine, that
no one would ever come to hurt her, but he felt the words would sound empty.

Amy
asked, “Are…” she hesitated, “Are you nervous?”

“About
what?”

“About
that party you’re going to,” she clarified.

The
party escaped his mind days ago. He chuckled, “N-Now, that y-you mentioned it,
yes.”

“I’m
sure it won’t be too terrible.”

He
agreed. A thought came to him suddenly, though at the start he disregarded it,
he gave the idea another moment of thought and asked, “Did…Did you want to go
w-with me?”

“To
the party?”

“Yes.”

She
paused, “As a date?”

He
felt flush at the words, at the mere suggestion of such a thing. The pit in his
gut burned and his mind raced to her rejecting him, mocking him, and days of
self-loathing and burning hatred directed inward. Nick trembled and took
another breath before he suggested that they could go as friends if she wanted.
“It’s okay i-if you d-don’t want to…”

“No,”
she stopped him, “I do. I’d love to go with you.”

He
smiled and a wave of relief washed over him. “Great. Um…” he rubbed his eyes,
“Did you want to go out and g-get something t-to eat beforehand?”

“Like
what?”

He
shrugged (but realized the action was wasted), “I-I don’t know. Wh-What do you
like?”

“Anything
really.”

“Japanese?”

“Sure.
When’s the party?”

They
made plans and Nick felt his nagging fear slowly release and he believed it was
the first good thing to happen in the past few months. He thought his brother
would be proud of him too, proud that he actually planned on doing something
beyond his usual threshold. Amy’s lighthearted tone made him smile. He worried
about her at the start of their conversation, but she sounded better, happier
even. Nick could tell she still hadn’t recovered from the incident; he and
Jordan seemed to be getting better, but after the past few days she seemed just
as frightened as when it happened.

Nick
hadn’t stopped to consider that in the past week his brother was killed and
that he’d witnessed a murder a day later; he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t
traumatized or suffering from a complete mental breakdown. He believed he
should have been, he thought normal people would be, but he wasn’t. Nick would
still cry if he thought about the loss of his brother for too long, but he felt
he was beginning to get better, beginning to move on. He didn’t know whether
Crystal’s murder shocked him from his sorrow or if such a thing was possible,
but he believed he was getting better. He did continue to harbor hatred for
whoever killed Victor though.

Even
as he sat outside the library discussing their date he felt tears reach his
eyes and felt as if everything around him may have begun to restore itself. He
wiped the tears away silently and happily engaged himself in the conversation
with Amy, who sounded just as content as he felt.

---*---

4:25
PM

Baltimore,
Maryland

Mario
Evanston sat with his back to the wall in the small interrogation room he’d
made a home out of, with a wide grin on his face. He had asked to speak to
Detective Sage again and waited his arrival. Evanston’s room was small, with
only a one-way window that reflected his image. A cot, small table, and his
chair were all that furnished his domain. Atop the table was a bottle of water.

Minutes
after the request for Sage, he entered through the metal door. Sage looked far
better than he had two days earlier; his eyes were sharper and his face was
clean. He asked what Evanston wanted and Evanston’s grin widened. “This,” he
said as he scrambled to the water bottle. Once in his hands, he unscrewed the
cap and closed his eyes. “Just sit back and watch this,” he told the detective
as the water in the bottle began to churn. The churning quickly slowed and soon
the water was nothing more than a frozen mass. Evanston opened his eyes and
handed the result to Sage for him to investigate.

Sage
stared at the anomaly he witnessed and asked, “How did you realize you could do
this?”

Startled
by the question Evanston cautiously replied, “I really don’t know, it just
happened. Then I spent a few minutes toying with the water and found that I
could control it.” He chuckled, “You…You were right! This…This is just amazing!
Oh and… and I can do more than just that, here,” he held his hands out for the
bottle, which Sage returned to him. The man turned the ice back into water and
then produced steam, which emptied the bottle. “This is the coolest part…hope
you don’t mind getting wet…”

Sage
was going to for a clarification, but was briefly rained on before he could
speak.

Sage
looked about the room, perplexed. He asked, “You did that too?”

“Yeah,
one second,” the man concentrated and lifted the water from the ground in the
form of vapor and recollected the water into the bottle.

“So
you don’t have to touch the object?”

“No…I-I
want to try it on something other than water, but I didn’t want to ruin your
table…” the man said.

“Thanks…I’ll
get you some paperclips.”

Detective
Sage left Evanston alone and headed to their supply closet for a box of the
paperclips but was intercepted by his partner. “Did you find anything out?”

Sage
nodded and told him to get Johnson. “You’ll both want to see this.”

Felton
left to get the chief while Ryan returned to Mario. He handed him the box and
asked, “How do you know you’ll be able to manipulate these too?”

The
curly haired man shrugged and asked why he shouldn’t be able to. “I’m just
changing its state of matter, so my next thought was something other than
water…so something metal popped into my head.”

Chief
Johnson and Detective Felton joined them and asked what they discovered.
Evanston took one of the small metal clips from the box and set it on the
table. “Just watch.”

He
closed his eyes and focused on the small metal object. However, the entire
table began to vibrate, so Sage quickly stopped him. “Just hold it in your hand
before you melt the entire table, okay?”

The
man agreed and held the small metal item in his hand. Within seconds the metal
turned to liquid. Johnson’s eyes widened, “Ryan, how the hell do you explain
that?”

Ryan
only shook his head, “I have no idea. But this means my theory was right…”

“Can
you turn it back into a paper clip?” Felton asked.

“Maybe
with enough practice, but I can do this.” He concentrated and formed a solid
cube. “If you give me enough I could probably make something really cool, like
a sword or a shield or something.”

“I’m
not sure I would want you making a sword in my station,” Johnson told him. He
turned to Detective Sage and asked what it meant for them.

“It
means he’s the eleventh target of Cladis,” Sage stated.

“Whoa…who’s
Cladis?” Evanston asked.

“He’s
the guy who’s been killing people in your situation,” Felton told the man.