Regenesis (Book 1): Impact (37 page)

Nick
scowled, “So you want to know how long until we’re through?”

Mizuno
nodded, “More or less.”

Nick
didn’t answer him.

“I
know it sounds terrible, but I’m just being realistic.” He waited for an answer
but Nick didn’t say anything. “You two have known each other for less than a
month and have only gone out twice if you count coffee on Tuesday afternoon.
Nick, this relationship could fall through and it would hardly set you or this
girl back more than a few grief-stricken days.”

“I’m
n-not…I don’t have that lifestyle you mentioned,” Nick told him.

Mizuno
agreed. “Not yet, but you will.”

“No
I won’t.”

“You’re
only thirteen–well, twelve days into this new world,” he told Nick, “It’ll take
some time to get accustomed to it, but once you move past denying that you’ll
accept where you are and what it means to be alone for the sake of someone
else’s happiness.”

Nick
looked at him and asked what he meant by that.

Mizuno
only let out a sigh and told him to ask someone named Bruce about it when he
had the chance.

They
arrived at a deserted department store building in a suburb of Bellevue. The
lot was empty but Mizuno still parked near the back of the lot, which perplexed
Nick.

“Why
do you park so far away from where you need to be?”

“Do
you mean why did I park at the end of this vacant lot and why did I park three
blocks away from your school?” Mizuno asked.

Nick
nodded.

“I
parked three blocks away from Inglemoor because I couldn’t risk some student
seeing you and I in the same vehicle, as that revelation would cost me the job
there, which would be a hassle. I parked back here now because more people
should.”

“What
do you–”

“If
more obese Americans parked at the back of the lot by choice they would burn
additional calories from the added distance. Also, getting out of the parking
lot is simpler when you park in the back, as no one else prefers to park
there.”

“Don’t
you worry about your car though?”

Mizuno
chuckled and told him that the car was stolen.

They
got out of the car, Mizuno neglected to lock it, and they headed inside the
building. It wasn’t lit (as the power bill hadn’t been paid in months), but
Mizuno had placed electric lanterns throughout the building to light the way to
their meeting place…though the lanterns needed to be lit first. Mizuno had no
issues moving through the darkness to each lamp without any caution or
hesitation, Nick however lagged behind until the next light shone forth. Mizuno
led Nick to a stationary escalator and up to a small, vacant area he’d set up
with multiple lanterns, about two dozen folding chairs, and a long table with
paper plates, plastic cups, napkins, and although there wasn’t any food there
yet Nick guessed there would be something soon enough.

“Where
are M-M…Where are Mithra and Melanie?”

“Mithra
and Melanie are each collecting members of our group from the airport, hotels,
and if my guess is accurate enough two of our members were found at a strip
club,” Mizuno told him.

Nick
frowned, “Why do you think that?”

Mizuno
let out a short breath while he brought out another folding table from
somewhere beyond the length of the light and while he set the table up he
answered Nick, “I think they’re at a strip club because they have very low
moral standards. In fact, I know they both partake in very demoralizing activities
with the only exceptions being homoerotic and illicit drug use, because they
are homophobic and I do not allow the use of drugs. These two are also quite
childish, in that they spend their earnings from this group on toys, video
games, movies, electronics, and other activities I would prefer to avoid
mentioning.”

Nick
looked at him and asked which members he meant, but Mizuno only told him that
he’d figure it out soon enough. Mizuno walked away again and returned with a
cardboard box, which he set on the table he had previously erected. He opened
it, retrieved a wireless headset, tossed it to Nick and simply told him to hold
onto it.

“What
is it?”

“Most
of our members do not speak English as their native tongue, so to avoid
translating what I have to say three times, this little device eliminates that
need.”

“Okay,
but what is this?”

“It’s
a translator Nick. I say something in one language and it translates it into
whatever language you set it to,” Mizuno told him. “Two of our members designed
it and Melanie uses her ability to send the information to and from each
person’s headset. It’s really just a simple tool, but with the help of some of
our members, we can speed up the translation process and nearly eliminate any
lag time. Without Melanie and Kyle’s respective skill sets, this wouldn’t be
possible.” Mizuno waited only a moment before he added that Nick would meet
Kyle soon enough.

“Oh…”
Nick fell silent as he tried to peer through the darkness around him.

“There’s
nothing here you know,” Mizuno told him. “The previous owner took everything
with him except for the shelves, counters, and anything else that was bolted
down.”

“Then
why are we here?”

Mizuno
stopped and looked at him. “Nick, we both know that you know why we’re here.
Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“Sorry.”

Nick
fell quiet again and left Mizuno to his work. Mizuno glanced at him and watched
as Nick averted his gaze and tried to study the floor with a casual interest.
Mizuno let out a strained breath and told him about Drake Winchester’s arrest
in Japan.

He
looked at Mizuno, who had already returned to setting up the translator system
on the table. Nick asked what he meant, and though Mizuno hated the idea of
talking about it with Nick, he knew it would become an immediate part of their
conversation in a day or two, so it didn’t matter when they talked, just that
they did.

“Drake
left for Japan yesterday and at the same time he killed his own father, Tony
Winchester,” Mizuno clarified. “Only Drake couldn’t have killed his father, as
he was on a plane to Japan over the Pacific Ocean.”

“Then
what happened?”

Mizuno
rubbed his eyes and muttered something under his breath in a language Nick
didn’t know. “It means that whoever killed Tony Winchester looked like Drake,
but wasn’t Drake…meaning it’s possibly the same person you’re looking for.”

Nick
didn’t say anything for a moment. Mizuno continued to unpack the headsets and
set them on the table. He walked away from Nick and into the background for a
minute before he returned with a cooler, which he harshly dropped on the tiled
floor next to the table with the plates, cups, and napkins.

“You
know it’s going to take time to actually find whoever this is, right?”

Nick
slowly nodded.

“And
you realize that even if you do find whoever this is, you won’t stand a chance
of stopping them?”

He
nodded.

“Then
don’t feel bad.”

“I
do though,” he whispered. “My friend’s dad is dead, and the guy who killed him
was the same guy who killed my brother.” He looked at Mizuno and asked him how
he couldn’t be sad then.

Someone
coughed politely behind them near the trail of lanterns that led from the dead
escalators toward where they were. He was a thin Japanese man who was clean
shaven, kept well combed hair, wore an expensive suit, and carried a metal briefcase.

He
apologized and asked if he should come back later. “I don’t want to interrupt
anything if you two need to talk.”

“No
it’s fine,” Mizuno quickly told him. “Nick, this is a good friend of mine, Ke
Kitayama. He’s the founder, owner, CEO, et cetera, of the Kitayama Corporation
in Japan.”

Nick
was surprised to hear who he was, as Nick knew of some of the games his
corporation created, and wondered why someone like him would even be a part of
Mizuno’s group. “Why are you here?”

Mizuno
answered for him, “Ke joined the group for personal reasons,” he glanced at Ke,
who walked past him without making eye contact with Mizuno over to the table in
front where the headsets lay. “I only approached him because I learned that his
astounding engineering was more than just something he studied in school.”

“What
do you mean?”

“His
ability allows him complete innovation over various bits of technology, among
other things.” Mizuno kept his eyes on Ke and asked him, “Are you still working
on the regenerating battery idea?”

“The
what?”

Ke
nodded. He looked at Nick and explained that it was a prototype power source
that was self-contained as well as rechargeable. The general idea was to
eliminate the need for a charging method for the batteries, and that if the
prototype was successful the battery would recharge itself when it wasn’t in
use. “The thought was to cut down on the amount of materials used in your
average battery as well as creating an energy source for military use so all of
their radios, lights, and anything else that required that form of power would
be–”

Mizuno
stopped him, “Unfortunately you’ll have to explain everything later, as our
other members have just arrived.”

Nick
listened as a group of what he thought was five people enter the building and
noisily walk through the pitch dark store. He could tell that they were all
guys from the way they talked as well as how loud they were. Nick also couldn’t
understand everything they said, but as they climbed the escalators he realized
they weren’t speaking English.

Mithra
led the small band with a red cooler in his hands. The other four carried a six
foot long sandwich, a large box filled with various bags of chips, a cookie
platter, and two trays of vegetables. They each set the items on or near the
table and immediately opened everything and dished themselves up without regard
to Ke, Mizuno, Nick, or the remaining five people who Nick knew would arrive
shortly.

Mizuno,
who didn’t budge, only rolled his eyes and told Nick that they would all be
introduced later, as none of them were too familiar with one another either.

Ke
and Mizuno walked over to the table to speak with Mithra while two men who Nick
guessed were identical Chinese twins talked amongst themselves with their
drinks and plates of food, and a Korean who wasn’t much older than Nick and a
man Nick guessed to be close to Mizuno’s age took their seats near him. He
listened to the conversation between the Korean and the guy Nick thought might
have been an American, but they both spoke in a language he didn’t know, so he
stopped paying attention to them.

The
second batch of members arrived in the same basic fashion as the first, chatty,
though with two exceptions. A young man who looked to be Nick’s age walked up
the steps with Melanie and a Russian girl at his heels. A third young woman
joined the fold after another moment, though she was quiet. The final member to
arrive was a forty year old man who seemed relieved to finally be there. Nick
watched as the man walked over to the cooler, take a bottle of water, uncap it,
retrieve two white pills from his pocket, and quickly down them

He
was larger than Strom, but in contrast he had a bald scalp with very short hair
around the back of his head. The man walked over to where Nick sat and
muttered, “I swear if I am ever stuck in a car with those three again I will
quit.”

Nick
wasn’t sure why the man singled him out, but he tried to play along just as
much. “Was it pretty bad?”

He
looked at Nick sideways for a moment before he introduced himself, “Bruce
Lord.” He took the young man’s hand and shook it so hard Nick honestly believed
it would break.

Nick
tried to act as if it was nothing, but couldn’t help but shake the pain away
and ask, “Is that your p-pow…” He stopped, took a breath, and asked again, “Do
you have super strength or something?”

“No,
I’m just stronger than you,” he told him flatly, “I have heightened senses.”

“What
do you mean?”

“If
you fire a gun at me, I have the reflexes to dodge the bullet, move it, or
catch it,” he told Nick while he rubbed his temples.

Nick’s
eyes widened, “What? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah…What
can you do?”

“Excuse
me.” Mizuno broke into their conversation, “Bruce I need to borrow you for a
moment.”

“Alright.”

Nick
let out a breath as they walked away, though he couldn’t rest too long, as the
man with the Korean fellow quickly asked him, “Do you know what the most
valuable commodity is?”

Nick
really didn’t. He also didn’t care, but realized no matter the answer the man
would go off and explain to him everything about whatever commodity he rattled
off. The answer wasn’t what the man wanted to hear; he wanted to talk.

“I
don’t know…rice?”

He
shook his head and told him it was oil. “Oil prices regulate how expensive rice
is, oil is what allows us a majority of our travel, oil is what makes our
plastics and rubbers, and that’s just to name some of what it’s used for.”