Regenesis (Book 1): Impact (7 page)

Detective
Sage stopped reading. There wasn’t anything left. He set the pages aside,
looked back at the information he had on the previous victims, and for a second
believed he’d found something.

He
examined the notes on the first victim, Red Irons, and recalled that he’d spent
nearly a half an hour under water before the second victim, Breanna French,
dove in and saved him. Sage jotted down a few notes, though they were merely
ideas, and continued down the list.

---*---

Chapter
3

August
16
^th
, 2029

9:15
AM

Baltimore,
Maryland

“You’ve
lost me,” Felton told Detective Sage as they both hunched over his desk.

The
desk in question was blanketed in documents which ranged from photos of
Caroline Reynolds’ diary to crime scene information and documentation.
Detectives Felton and Sage studied the small set of notes Sage compiled on
everything he knew about the victims and what limited connections he believed
they shared. Chief Johnson joined them with three mugs of coffee, two of which
he handed out to the detectives.

Johnson
asked Felton, “What’s this about?”

Sage
took a breath and said, “I believe I’ve found something.” He pointed to pages
spread across his desk and explained, “I didn’t think anything of it at the
start, but something in Caroline Reynolds’ diary made me reconsider.”

“What?”

“She
wrote that she could walk through glass,” Felton told him.

Johnson
stared at them both, with a cocked brow, and asked, “Like, through it, without
breaking it?”

“Yes,”
Sage reluctantly confirmed.

The
chief rubbed his eyes and found a seat. He groaned and muttered, “Why on earth
would you even think this is relatively plausible?”

“Chief–”

“Sage,”
his eyes shot over to him, “This is insane. People do not have super powers.”

“Then
explain how Red Irons was able to remain underwater for over a half an hour
before Breanna French dove in to save him. Better yet, explain to me how she
even knew he was down there considering she was out jogging and wasn’t anywhere
near him when he tried to kill himself.”

Felton
grimaced as he looked at the rest of Detective Sage’s notes. He read the
entries in Caroline’s diary and admitted, “It doesn’t sound so improbable when
you’ve got a fourteen year old girl writing about it in her journal.”

“That
isn’t a binding fact though,” the Chief told them. “We need hard evidence, not
fiction.”

“Chief,”
Detective Sage looked at him, “This might be all that we’re going to get.”

Johnson
closed his eyes and thought a moment. The three of them didn’t move, or speak,
and hardly breathed for quite some time. One of their radios transmitted a
signal about a robbery on the east side, but none of them paid any mind to it.
The chief finally asked, “How are we supposed to investigate something like
this? Even if there are people with super powers and none of us have known
about it until now, how are we supposed to go about finding this Cladis guy who
supposedly knows about these people, and stop him?”

Felton
shrugged, “How we usually go about these sort of investigations, we look for
other clues, interview those closest to the victims, and try our best to find
any leads we can that could lead to us capturing this killer.”

Johnson
rubbed his head and relented, “Fine. Just, please, don’t mention these powers
or whatever they are to anyone else. The last thing we need is the press, the
people, or anyone above us believing that we’ve suddenly lost our grip on
reality. You two investigate this as if it truly was a lead and if anything
concrete surfaces, you let me know.” He looked at his watch and swore, “If
you’ll excuse me, I have to go and explain everything about Caroline Reynolds’
death to Commissioner Schmitt.”

He
left the detectives and they returned to the case on the desk in front of them.
Detective Felton scratched his head and asked, “How are we going to go about
this anyway?”

Sage
told him about what he’d read in Caroline’s journal, about how her class had an
intern substituting for their teacher. “I’ll have to go through the school
district to get this intern’s name though, which might be a bit of a headache
seeing as school’s out for the summer.”

“Are
you going to ask if she’s suddenly displaying supernatural powers and
abilities?” Felton asked with a smirk.

Detective
Sage frowned and admitted that he might have to. “I don’t even know how to ask
that without her dismissing it altogether.”

Felton
shook his head and chuckled, “You’re a bright guy, I’m sure you’ll figure it
out,” he said with a smile as he handed Sage the phone. “I’ll be back, I’ve got
to go and check up with Brown about a few things involving some shoplifters we
caught last week.”

Sage
nodded and dialed Caroline Reynolds’ school. He waited for an answer but only
managed to receive a message that informed him that the secretaries and school
administration were out of office until the seventeenth of August. Sage left a
brief message, hung up, cursed, and returned to gathering information about the
other eight victims on the list.

---*---

12:50 PM

Bothell, Washington

Drake
sat at his desk with a distant gaze upon the static game of solitaire he left
on screen. He shuffled through his deck twice, before he finally decided to
wrap the game up and within a minute had the cards flying across his screen.
Afterward, he closed the application.

His
lanky coworker, Jeremy, approached his desk. He took a seat and began their
conversation without hesitation, “Drake, I recently inherited an old turntable
from my grandfather. Do you happen to know where I could find some old records
for it?”

Drake
blinked a few times before he realized he was asked a question, “Ah…you can
obviously check online, but I’d imagine if you checked around you could find
someone in the area that sells them. Pawn shops may have them too.”

“Great,
great. Sorry about such a stupid question, but as you know, I’m new here and
I’m still getting my bearings in the area.” Jeremy glanced past Drake to find
Sanderson closing in on them. He adjusted his glasses and spoke, “So Drake I’ve
been talking with Donna in customer service, she says that there’ve been some
complaints with our server speed recently,” Sanderson stopped by them, “She
asked if you or Sho could take a look to see if anything’s up.” Satisfied,
Sanderson left.

“Good
cover,” Drake complimented his coworker, who only smiled and set off for his
desk again. Drake then muttered to himself that he didn’t work in their
information technology department.

His
phone rang once Jeremy had left, “Yes?”

“Drake,
there’s someone here to see you. Should I send them over?”

Drake
sighed, “Yeah, thanks,” he hung up and counted backwards from twelve, at which
point Nick found his desk. “Hey take a seat.”

Nick
did and then asked, “Is your m-manager going to d-drop by?”

“I
don’t know, he might.” Drake took out a paper from his desk and handed it to
him, “That’s the flyer for the party. Since Ian’s leaving on the twenty-sixth
we’re throwing it on the twenty-fourth.”

“That
should b-be fine.”

“I
found a place for us to use, but I told them we’re going to provide our own
music since it’s cheaper and all that club usually plays is electronic and
trance,” Drake told him.

“And
y-you want me t-t-to find the DJ?”

Drake
nodded, “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Nick
sighed, “Great, m-more work.”

“That’s
all you’ve got to do. I’ve got Jordan making fliers and he’s getting Coop and
Wally to help distribute them.” Drake smiled, “You should consider yourself
lucky in comparison to him.”

“Okay.
Any other j-jobs f-for me?”

He
shook his head, “Not unless you want more.”

“N-No,
that’s f-fine.” Nick gathered his things and started off.

A
woman in her mid-forties walked up to Drake’s cubicle and told him someone was
at the front desk waiting for him. Drake scratched at his eyebrow and asked if
she knew who it was. “Jonathan Vane.”

“Right…who
is he again?”

“The
chief operations officer.”

“Right
right…perfect, thanks.”

Drake
rose from his seat and walked out to the receptionist’s desk with his hands
deep within his pockets. Jonathan Vane was a few inches taller than Drake and
never seemed to be caught dead without a suit and tie. He wore thinly framed
glasses that complimented his slender figure and face. Jonathan Vane also
always wore his salt and peppered hair slicked back with what Drake assumed was
the largest amount of the most expensive hair product imaginable.

“Drake
Winchester,” he said with a smile, “You seem to be taller every time I see
you.”

Drake
begrudgingly shook his hand and failed to give any retort. “Nice to see you too
Jonathan.”

Jonathan
paused, cleared his throat, and suggested they talk in private. Drake led the
way to the conference room and promptly took a seat at the head of the table,
which allowed Jonathan to take a seat near the door. Jonathan composed himself
and began by asking Drake how closely he followed their flagship title.

“
Creeping
Darkness
? Fairly closely, even though it isn’t really my department.”

Vane
smirked, “Yes, I’d imagine it isn’t…anyway, your father and I spoke and decided
that we’d like to send you to Japan alongside some of the game’s engineers to
represent our company.”

“For
the Tokyo Game Show?” Drake asked as his attention and interest piqued.

“Yes.”
Vane adjusted his glasses before he told Drake that this would come as a
promotion. “Your father knows you must feel quite undervalued at this level and
wants to broaden your horizon, in a manner of speaking. We haven’t hammered out
the details, the position, or the title for that matter, but we will shortly.
But in any case, we would like you to head to Japan at the start of September
to represent Winchester Enterprises as the face of our company. What do you
say?”

Drake
let a smile form and quickly agreed.

“Good.
You’ll be briefed long before you depart, but it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on
the products we plan to showcase, all of which you’ll receive information on
soon enough.”

“That’s
fine with me. And this trip will be on the company’s dime, right?” he asked,
tongue in cheek.

Jonathan
rose and with a smile, told him he wouldn’t bother addressing his question with
a response.

---*---

2:00 PM

Bothell, Washington

Ian
stood a few feet from the bleachers at the Bothell High School football field.
The new year’s team started practice early that day and despite it only being
practice drew a modest crowd. He wasn’t ever an athlete and had only attended
one game in his high school career, which never bothered or concerned him
before, yet he found himself somewhat nostalgic and regretful at the same time
while he watched the would-be students and athletes.

He
looked at his old high school in the background and reflected on the teachers
and classes and friends he had there. The memories were fresh in his mind two
months earlier but somehow he felt that they had begun to dissolve. Things
became blurry and all he could help to recall those fleeing memories were
events and names; faces and places were foggy at best.

Two
of his old friends approached him; one was a heavily over weight ex-jock who
still wore his lettermen’s jacket with an enormous state patch across his back.
His voice boomed over all of the chatter from the fans on the benches, “IAN!
Ian, why are you still here? I thought you were gonna be all the way on the
other side of the world by now.”

Ian
grinned and waited until his two friends met him at the edge of the bleachers,
“I’m not leaving until later this month. But I know that you knew that Coop,
I’ve already told you about the party.”

Coop
laughed much louder than he needed to and always seemed to draw unneeded
attention to the trio. He grinned and nudged the skinny young man who
accompanied him, “Wally, you’ve gotta remind me of this kind of stuff. You’re
way smarter than me.”

Wally
brushed Coop off and replied, “No, you’re just too lazy to keep track of
things. If you spent less time getting plastered and read a book for once in
your life maybe you wouldn’t feel so dumb.”

“I
do read Wally,” Coop stopped him. “I read plenty of comic books.”

“And
that’s wonderful, but try reading some American literature instead.” Wally left
the matter and asked Ian, “The party’s on the twenty-fourth right? Are we going
to need some special VIP passes or a code word or a hand sign to get in?”

Ian
rolled his eyes and told them they would be on the guest list.

“Thanks,
but seriously Ian, what are you doing here? I would have thought you’d be
packing or something better than watching some high school football team
practice.”

“I
just felt like taking one last look around here before I left,” Ian told him.

Wally
looked around and mumbled, “I’m not sure what’s so memorable about this
place…Hell, I wish I was the one getting out of this town.”