Regenesis (Book 1): Impact (4 page)

Johnson
picked the file up and examined it as if it were a relative’s long, stale photo
album. “Are you saying you think this is the work of a serial killer Detective
Sage?”

Felton
answered for him, “Unfortunately yes chief. Any rookie would say so, as would
the general public.”

Johnson
swore. “The last thing we need…” he looked at the detectives, “Do you have any
leads other than the matching scars?”

Sage
nodded, “Each victim met the following victim before they died.”

The
chief leaned back in his chair. He nodded, “Keep talking.”

“The
first guy was Red Irons, age forty-three. He ran a yoga…house? Shop?” He looked
to Felton for the correct term, but his partner only shrugged. “At one point he
thought he was the anti-Christ, which is why he attempted to kill himself, I guess.”

Felton
continued, “Red tied chains to his feet and jumped into the harbor. Half an
hour later our second victim, Breanna French, is jogging by and then jumps in
to save him, claiming she ‘knew he was down there.’ Four days after that, Red
dies. He’s the first victim with the scar in his arm.”

“Six
days later Breanna’s found dead in her car by the third victim, Bryce Noland,
who opened the locked car by merely touching the vehicle, no key or anything.
Four days after that, Bryce gets in a wreck with our fourth victim, Tim Qing,
who walked away from the accident without a scratch. A day later, Bryce is
killed at his apartment after he was released with a minor concussion and a
broken wrist.”

The
Chief intervened there, “Qing dies five days after Bryce right?”

Sage
nodded, “But he found and returned the missing cat of our fifth victim, Ana,
before then.”

“How
did you find that out anyway?” asked Felton.

“I
ran a search for both of their names and found that a lost cat notice was
revoked, with Qing as the one who returned it.”

“Anyway,”
Felton continued, “Ana, the fifth victim, meets Tony Allen at a train station;
Tony’s our sixth. Ana dies in Tony’s bed eight days later. Tony’s accused of
murder and meets the attorney he’s given, Rachel Schmitt, who’s our seventh
victim. She watched Tony die two days after Ana in one of our holding cells.”
Detective Sage made sure the chief understood and repeated where it happened.
“Rachel gave her testimony of the incident to Brett Foster; she died a day
after Tony.”

“And
Brett’s killed nine days later.” Johnson finished. “Every victim is in some way
connected to the next person before they died…”

“Which
means someone Brett met within the past nine days is going to die,” Felton
muttered.

“So
it seems. Who do you think he met within that time frame?”

Detective
Sage told him it could be anyone. “Brett set the record for the marathon last
Sunday, so between all the runners he met, the press, and any other random
person he could have ran into there’s a wide area of possible targets…”

“Well
who do you think is still in Baltimore?”

“Who
knows? It could even be someone he met when he bought groceries, or when he
brought someone into the station,” Felton answered.

Sage
flipped open the file and browsed through it. Brett Foster was an officer at
nineteen, was very athletic, despite his asthma, and regularly attended the
Bahá'í Faith church. On the fifth of August he set the world record for the
marathon at an hour and forty minutes, and after numerous drug screenings, he
was awarded the world record as well as the first place prize for the marathon
in which he raced. He was found dead in his apartment by a neighbor four days
later, dead at the age of twenty-five.

The
detective tossed the file on the desk and rubbed his eyes, “There are too many
people…” he mumbled, “We don’t have a good lead.”

“Can
you at least make a guess?”

“It
could be anyone,” Felton told him, “Someone he met at the marathon, or a
movie…anybody.”

Chief
Johnson nodded, “Then there’s nothing we can do until the next stiff turns up.”

Sage
looked cross, “We can’t just ignore this. We’ve got a duty to these people and
if we don’t do our damn job this son of a bitch is going to slaughter too many
people before he draws enough attention to himself to force our hand. It’d be
better if we tried to stop him early rather than–”

“And
how are we going to do that?” the chief inquired. “We seem to lack any suspects
and we don’t know who this alleged killer is going to target, and we can’t
guard the entire city all at once, so unfortunately I say we need to wait for
more evidence Sage.” Chief Johnson returned the file to Detective Sage with an
apology. “We’ve got plenty on our hands as it is. You two did hear about the
botanical gardens in the Druid Hill Park that the Delta attacked, right?”

Felton
nodded. “We did…How are things?”

“Burnt
it right to the ground long before any firemen could arrive,” he told them. “We
were just lucky that Sergeant Murdock and Officer Maguire happened to catch
three of them in the act and managed to arrest them. Caught them with jugs of
gasoline, Molotov cocktails, and handguns. The city will have to decide on
whether rebuilding the gardens is a realistic endeavor, but I’d like to know
why they decided to burn down a botanical garden of all things.”

The
Delta was a gang known for their rather anarchist violence. What separated them
from most other gangs in the area was that the Delta didn’t vie for territory
throughout the city (or throughout the East Coast either). The gang managed to
conduct their business, regardless of physical space, and relied on other means
to traffic their illicit items. However, although the Delta remained one of the
prominent gangs in Baltimore, their organization was once much stronger and
structured. But what the Baltimore Police Department feared most of all was
that the Delta seemed to stem from their city, yet the department seemed unable
to find any sure leads to combat the threat.

“Either
way,” Sage pressed on, “Combating the Delta isn’t going to happen soon. We need
to at the very least open up an investigation for this serial killer.”

“And
I would agree if we had something to actually work off of,” Chief Johnson told
him. “Once the next body turns up, I’ll let you two have at it, but right now
what do you think you could do? Wander throughout Baltimore asking whether each
and every person met Brett within the last nine days?” He shook his head,
“There’s nothing to work off of now, just wait and help us deal with everything
else in this city, like the theft problem we’ve got in the Westport area.”

Detective
Sage reluctantly agreed, and both he and Detective Felton shuffled out of his
office, case in hand. Once they closed the door Felton let out a breath and
apologized to his partner. “I’ve got to agree with him, there isn’t anything we
can do at this point. Maybe once the ninth victim shows up we’ll be able to
work at it. But there really isn’t anything to go off of now.”

Sage
nodded and started back toward his office. Felton told him he needed to speak
with Sergeant Murdock about the arson case and departed in the opposite
direction. Sage held the case file in his right hand while he wore a scowl.

One
of the younger officers nearly collided with him as he dashed through the station.
“Sorry about that sir, I’m just trying to get my things and get out of here.”

Sage
forgave him and asked without any real interest in the subject, “Are you going
out or something?”

The
officer laughed, “No, I’ve just got to get back to tend to my neighbor’s cat.”

“Well
walk, okay Maguire?”

“Sure!
Sure!” the officer said as he sped off to the lockers.

Sage
returned to his office and found their newest officer at his desk. He couldn’t
recall her name immediately, but one glance at her name tag gave him her last
name and spared him any embarrassment. “What can I do for you Hendricks?”

She
frowned, “I need to know if we have anyone who handles identity theft cases
here on the force.”

He
shook his head, “I don’t know of anyone off the top of my head…” he looked at
her, “What’s this about?”

She
rubbed her head, “I’ve recently discovered that someone’s been making purchases
in my name throughout the nation, though mainly in Washington DC.”

“So
you think your identity’s been stolen?”

“I’m
not sure. I’ve talked with my bank, and we’re handling the fraudulent charges,
but whoever this is, they keep at it.” She scowled, “They even bought a
passport in my name.”

He
raised his eye brows, “Then it should be easy enough to find whoever it is,
since they have to have their photo–”

She
stopped him, “I’ve tried that, and all it comes up with are two passports in my
name with my information and image.”

He
thought for a moment, and came up with what he thought to be the best solution
for her, “Bring it up to the district attorney and see what she says. Other
than that I’ve really got no idea what you should do.”

Officer
Hendricks frowned, but thanked him, “I’ll talk to her as soon as I can and see
what can be done about it.”

Sage
set his folder on his desk, opened it, and skimmed over the pages. He didn’t
get too far, as Detective Felton stuck his head in the door and told him about
a disturbance in Point Breeze they needed to investigate. Sage only took a
second to close his file and stick it in his desk drawer before he chased after
him and to his job.

---*---

Chapter
2

August 13
^th
,
2029

5:13 PM

Bothell, Washington

A
warm breeze pervaded the park that sat on the edge of a forest. Blythe Park was
vast, with a spacious green field, a large playground that consisted of multicolored
slides, large bridges which led children from play structure to play structure,
tunnels of blue and green, and a tall swing set that allowed nearly a dozen
people. Blythe Park also bordered a highly trafficked bike trail, a narrow
river, and a lush forested area on a hill.

The
roar of an engine signaled the entrance of a young man who still hadn’t fully
mastered the art of riding a motorcycle. Nick parked, shoved the keys in the
pocket of his leather jacket, and walked over to a small group of friends who
sat underneath a tall and shady tree. Nick finally removed his helmet, face
covered in sweat, and muttered openly about how warm it was.

Drake,
Ian, Jordan, and a young woman with whom Jordan held hands all met him with
their eyes. Jordan smirked and told him it was ninety-three degrees, “What’d
you expect in the middle of August, rain?”

“No,
b-but that w-would have been nice.” Nick glanced at Jordan and asked how he
kept so cool while he wore a long sleeved shirt.

Jordan
shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it, considering this is basically my work
uniform and I have a long drive home to and from my shift every day in a car
with busted air conditioning.”

“Then
you’re acclimated?” Drake cut in.

“Maybe
I am.”

“Just
take your coat off and you’ll be fine Nick,” Ian told him. Nick followed Ian’s
suggestion and after stripping the coat off he plopped down beside him. “Why
did you even bother to bring that jacket?”

Nick
shrugged and said, “I-I don’t know…It-It rained a f-few days ago s-so I
thought–”

“Didn’t
you even look outside?” Jordan mocked him, “The fact that there isn’t a cloud
in sight should have been enough of a clue not to wear it.”

“Leave
him alone,” Drake interjected. Drake sat with his back against the tree and his
eyes on the slits of sunlight above them that managed to pierce the thick
canopy. “Let him wear the jacket if he wants to. Besides, he probably gets cold
flying around on that thing.”

Nick
would have thanked Drake, but decided to spare himself the embarrassment. He
tried to change the topic and asked Jordan, “Is this Rachel?”

“Naw,
this is my other girlfriend.”

“Jordan.”

“Sorry,”
he apologized and told him she was Rachel.

Rachel
reminded Nick that they’d met before, “A few times actually, mostly at parties
though…You do know that Drake’s my cousin, right?”

“Yeah,
yeah, I-I got that. I-I re-remember.”

Jordan
rolled his eyes and intervened, “I understand there’s going to be another party
soon?”

“Yes,”
Drake said as he lurched forward, at attention, “This one for our dear Ian as
he departs for the Queen’s Country.”

“Drake–”

“It’s
set for the twenty-fifth and I’m still looking into reserving a place, but in
the meantime start getting the word out.”

“I
told you I don’t want a party,” Ian stopped him. “I just want to get out of
here without any fights or any trips to the hospital.”

“Okay,
that was only one incident–”

“I
don’t care. I just want to make a quiet departure.”

“Yeah,
okay,” Drake said, as he shook his head and mouthed the words ‘it’s still on.’
“Okay, no party, but if there was a party I’d want everyone to start working on
gathering attendees.”

Ian
rubbed his eyed and sighed, “Fine, we’ll have a party. But if anything bad
happens, I’m not paying for anything. No medical bills, no fines, nothing, got
it?”

“Did
you think I’d leave you with the bill? It’ll be my, or my father’s, pleasure to
take care of expenses.”

He
sighed, “Whatever. Just let me know when it is. I’ll just show up and pretend
like I’m enjoying it.”

“That’s
the spirit.” Jordan mocked, “Don’t get too excited, Ian.”

Nick
stretched and fished his worn cell phone from his jeans and read the time.
Rachel saw him check and asked, “Are we keeping you from something?”

He
hesitated to answer, but said, “I-I’ve got to get home s-soon and I-I need to
get some groceries b-before then. N-Need chicken, t-tuna…”

“Your
mom or dad can’t get that themselves?”

Nick
stared at her for a moment before he let out a breath and said they couldn’t.
He grabbed his things, walked to his bike, and left without another word.

Rachel
saw the expressions on the other three boys’ faces and asked what was wrong.

Jordan
told her that Nick’s mother died in a car accident on the first of July and
that he was still coping. “And his stepdad’s a drunk who doesn’t give a damn
about any of it. Nick struggles to barely keep them fed, considering how busy
his older brother is working.” Jordan cursed again and apologized for not
warning her.

The
four sat silent then. Drake picked up a small stone and tossed it in the air
above his head while his eyes remained on the exit Nick had taken; he had hoped
he might return. Ian’s gaze passed by Drake as he watched a small group of
children play tag. Rachel gripped Jordan’s hand tightly and picked at the grass
in front of her. Jordan just looked away from the group and toward the forest.

Drake
finally threw his rock as far as he could and hit a trash can near one of the
covered dining areas. He stood up and spoke, “Well I’m getting out of here. My
job’s done, get the word out and I’ll let you know of any changes and updates.
Ian did you need a ride back?” Ian told him he wouldn’t mind one, and the two
left.

Rachel
let out a deep sigh, “That did not go well.”

“Don’t
worry, it’ll be fine.”

“No,
I feel bad about it.”

“Nick’s
resilient,” Jordan told her, “He’ll get over it.”

She
sighed, shaking, and told him she needed to smoke. “Do you have anything with
you right now?”

“I
thought you’d never ask. C’mon, let’s do this in the woods.” She agreed as she
rose and walked past the worn Blyth Park entrance sign, and once they had
crossed the field they entered the dim forest.

Empty
cans, bottles, cigarette butts, torn pizza boxes and occasionally lost, soiled
clothing littered the forest. Giant, twisted roots hindered them as they
continued through the woods. They came to an opening where a group of lawn
chairs stood surrounded by a far larger amount of trash than what they saw on
the trail. They took two chairs and Jordan took out a small paper bag. He
retrieved two plastic lighters, his was red and the one he tossed her was
green. Once Jordan passed her a few hand rolled white cylinders, they each lit
up and took long draws. Neither of them said a word for quite some time.

---*---

8:45
PM

Baltimore,
Maryland

Sage
sat at his desk, and stared at the newspaper photo of his fellow officer,
Brett, as he accepted the first place trophy from the mayor’s daughter. There
were thirty-seven people in the photo, Sage and Felton had spent a whole day
identifying them all, trying to find out anything and everything they could
about each one of them. The results proved fruitless. Ryan began to worry about
the amount of time he had left to find the next potential victim. He was not
having any luck.

He
tossed the photo back into the file that lay spread over his desk, rubbed his
temples, and tried to figure out what his next move should be. Sirens blared
outside, which had become a regular occurrence in the city, police and medical
assistance mainly, due to the continuous violence throughout Baltimore. It
wasn’t as if there was chaos at all times, the average citizen wasn’t involved.
It was merely the gangs they had to stop, the theft, and the rivalries.

The
case before his wasn’t moving, and with the pulsing headache he couldn’t shake
away, the detective thought it was as good a time as any to grab something to
eat. Sage left his office and headed toward the break room where he found a box
of doughnuts he guessed had been there since the morning. He selected one he
believed to be suitable enough for his taste, refilled his coffee, and headed
back toward his office. Sage took one bite and nearly spat it out. The stale
doughnut and the sweaty frosting didn’t mesh well, and though he thought the
coffee to be enough to help wash it down, he believed he might end up tossing
the pastry, as no one could stomach it if he couldn’t.

The
detective had hardly taken his seat when he was met with Chief Johnson who
walked over and took a seat at the table as well. Chief Johnson set an evidence
bag with a bloodied sheet of paper on the table and told him there was another
victim in his case.

“What
do you mean?”

“You’ve
got another victim,” the Chief told Sage. “Caroline Reynolds, age fourteen.
Dead from what looks like a broken neck, although this note was pinned to her
skull with a kitchen knife. This is all just assumption at this point, but
we’ll know for sure after an autopsy.”

Sage
asked, “Was anyone else injured or killed?”

“No
one else was home when it happened. Apparently her folks were out for the
evening and left her home alone.”

“So
he knew she was alone…” Sage paused for a moment before he asked how the killer
entered the house. “Were there any signs of forced entry?”

The
Chief shook his head, “Caroline answered the door herself. It’s assumed the man
killed her shortly thereafter. No signs of a struggle either.”

Detective
Sage finally looked down at the piece of evidence and found one word scrawled
across the page in blood, Cladis. He studied it and asked the Chief if he
happened to notice the mark he’d found on all of the previous victims.

“Yep,
burned into her, just like the rest of them.” Johnson watched Detective Sage’s
eyes while he mulled over the document. “Do you know what it means?”

Sage
shook his head, “Possibly a name, an alias he wants us to recognize him by…but
beyond that no, I have no idea.”

“Who
found her?”

“Neighbors
noticed her front door was open and happened upon it. They called us, I grabbed
Murdock, and we rushed out there to see it for ourselves. We called in Brown,
Maguire, and a few others to simply keep a line until we could get forensics
and the coroner out there to get the body.”

“Is
there any chance I could get copies of notes and photos from the crime scene?”

“Sure
thing.” Chief Johnson told Sage a number of pieces of evidence outside of the
note he held would be available to him to investigate shortly. “I’d like to ask
you to begin a full investigation of this and the previous murders.”

“Of
course.”

“For
starters, I need you to head out to her house and talk to her parents. Try to
get as much information from them as you can. Tomorrow you and Felton can go
around the neighborhood and ask around about any suspicious activity they might
have noticed over the last few days…or however long the time period between her
murder and Officer Foster’s.”

“Right.
Felton’s already gone for the evening, did you want me to call him?”

Johnson
shook his head, “Grab Murdock if you think you’ll need someone. Just call
Detective Felton and inform him of the situation and update him tomorrow when
you both tackle this thing head on.”

“Got
it.”

“Good,
now,” he swore under his breath, “We need to get out to the Tuscany-Canterbury
area to talk to her parents about the murder of their daughter, and I need to
think up a way to tell Commissioner Schmitt that we have a serial killer in our
city.”

---*---

6:15 PM

Bothell, Washington

Rachel
sat relatively alone in her well-worn lawn chair with a cigarette in hand. The
marijuana always made her nauseated after only a short while and it usually
lulled Jordan to sleep for some reason. He always took more than her, usually
double at the very least, and even though Rachel wasn’t about to ask, she
always wondered what sort of things were intermixed within it. He always bought
for them both, even before they started dating exclusively, which often worried
her, as she never knew what sort of people sold it to him.

He
slept soundly in the chair next to her with his head propped up by his hand
that stood erect from the placement of his elbow on the edge of the right arm
of his chair. She gave him a once over shortly before taking a final puff from
the cigarette between her ring and middle fingers.

Rachel
tossed the butt away, exhaled, and rubbed her eyes. It was all they ever seemed
to do if she scrutinized what they had together; it was truly the only thing
that brought them close in the first place, that and the physical aspects of
their relationship. Her hopes for a truly dynamic romance died before they even
met, seeing as her notion of a fairytale love story failed to exist. If love
did exist it was solely from a physical standpoint.