Bad Jack ((Ascension: Book 1)) (16 page)

Chapter 42: Late Shift

It was alr
eady late so Jack suspected he wouldn’t have to meet with the freaks downstairs but he was wrong. Melanie said they were to rendezvous in half an hour with the old men.

She
smiled coyly. “I’m all sweaty. Can I use your shower?”

Jack smirked.
“I’m pretty sweaty too.”

“And you wouldn’t want to waste water, now would you?”

“Not on the taxpayers’ dime.”

The shower became more than just a shower.
It had been years since he’d done that.

Afterward
he popped a couple beers and handed one to Melanie. He was parched from those drinks earlier and she must have been too because she chugged half the bottle before saying thanks.

“Normally I’d break out the good stuff for a beautiful lady but we don’t want to meet with the geriatrics all fucked up and slurring.”

“At least they give you the good stuff. All we get’s cheap beer. It’s free so I’m not complaining too loud.”

“You can share mine anytime
.” He wanted to lace it with sexual innuendo but wisely refrained.

She
sheepishly asked, “Do you have a girlfriend on the outside?”

“Did it look like my apartment had a
feminine touch to it? No, I’ve been single for awhile.”

He’d
hoped she didn’t have a boyfriend or a husband but how could he know for sure. Then again, they wouldn’t have hired her if she had family or ties of any significance. She confirmed his suspicions and put his jealous thoughts to rest just as they were about to rumble to life.

“
I’ve been alone for a long time too.”

Jack was silently grateful. But then he came to the conclusion that he was falling
for her far too fast. Sure he was desperate but that was only a small part of it; he really liked her. Best not to let her see just how much he liked her though, might scare her off and that was the last thing he wanted.

She
switched subjects. “We’d better not keep them waiting or they’ll send an armed escort for us.”

Chapter 43: Brett the Bully

The bruiser at the door
, Brett, roughly grabbed Jack’s ID from him and scrutinized it as though he was certain he was a terrorist. The guy was a Nazi thug seventy years and thousands of miles removed from his true calling. He’d have fit right in with his cruel blue eyes and intimidating air of steely authority. Jack hated him more each time.

When he went to hand the ID back he deliberately dropped it before Jack got hold of it.
Jack hadn’t seen anything so sophomoric since high school. He was about to stoop down and pick it up but refrained from literally bowing before this asshole.

Angrily
he demanded, “Pick that up.”

Brett
smirked, making it clear he wasn’t about to give in. Jack stood his ground, his anger tricked him into believing he could handle a man so large, a man clearly born and bred to punish and beat on and kill anyone he didn’t like.

“Pick it up or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Whoa, Jack had never once threatened to kill a person before. This guy was in his head big-time.

Brett
took that as his cue to engage and stepped forward just in time to receive a swift boot to the crotch from Melanie. As he bent double she hit him on the back of the head with both hands like a mallet. He wasn’t about to go down from that though. He sidestepped her next swing and grabbed for his pistol.

Jack grabbed his
pistol-fetching arm. He was surprised he was able to hold it still. Brett tried to shuck him off but somehow Jack was too strong. He knew this stance wouldn’t hold forever; he needed a new tactic or he’d end up on the losing end. He let go of the arm long enough to attack. The guard’s pistol was halfway out when Jack punched him square in the chest.

Jack wasn’t a fighter; he’d once in awhile get a little too boisterous when he drank way too much but the last time he’d actually hit someone was a decade ago and that was a woman; a hooker trying to take his wallet
, but still. So the last thing he expected was for the meathead to crash against the door and slide to the ground gasping for air.

Melanie got between them and put a hand on Jack’s chest to stop him.
That snapped him back to reality. He hadn’t handled the situation with anything close to diplomacy. It wasn’t like him. He wanted to make sure he hadn’t just killed the guy but Melanie wasn’t about to let him come any closer.

He’
d heard of people getting hit in the chest and then dying from the resultant heart arrhythmia. Just then he felt sick to his stomach. Partly because he didn’t want the asshole to die but also partly because fifteen seconds ago he did, with all his heart.

Brett
stumbled to his feet gasping for air, all traces of the former malevolence gone from his features.

Within seconds
a squad of four guards came rushing down the corridor, weapons raised.

They stopped twenty feet back
. One of them shouted, “Everyone, weapons out and over and get down on the ground.”

Melanie slowly unholstered her weapons and kicked them over
one by one. Jack had nothing so he just got on his belly.

“You too
Brett,” a guard barked at the meathead. He clumsily obeyed, pulling out his guns and tossing them to the floor before gingerly sitting down.

They remained like that, he and Melanie on their bellies and the
huge buffoon sitting Indian style against the orders of his fellow guards.

Brett
had a lost look to him. Jack could only guess that he’d shattered the man’s reality by not only standing up to him but by defeating him at his own game. This had probably never happened to him before. Jack convinced him to lay down with them because if one of these trigger happy bastards killed him for noncompliance it would ultimately be Jack’s fault and he didn’t know if he could live with that.

One of the guards was taking into his walkie.

When he was done he commanded, “Everyone stay on the ground.”

At that, they
slowly backed down the corridor, guns trained on the prone figures the entire time. Then they rounded the corner out of sight.

Jack didn’t quite understand it but then the door to the clean room behind them opened and Oliver walked through. He surveyed the situation quickly
before telling everyone to get up. He ordered Brett to go to medical.

Brett
seemed to understand. He stumbled in the direction the other guards had retreated. Then he wandered back towards them, retrieved his firearms from the floor, and retreated once more.

As Jack and Melanie were dusting themselves off Oliver
asked pointedly, “What on earth were you two idiots thinking? That little scuffle could have ended in death. I’m actually shocked that I’m not dealing with two corpses right now. Brett’s no joke with his hands or with a weapon.”

Jack tried to offer up an excuse but Oliver
cut him off. “I saw the whole thing on camera. There’s just no excuse for that kind of behavior.”

Melanie apologized and Jack followed suit. Oliver grabbed Jack’s bicep and squeezed it a couple times.

“Where did you learn how to fight anyway?”

His smile waned when Jack’s arm squished around under his grasp. The last time
he’d been muscular Chia-pets and Beenie-babies were all the rage.

He
shrugged. He didn’t know how to fight and he didn’t have an explanation for how he’d managed to take out the scariest human being he’d ever met.

Oliver let it go. “Let’s get to work. Melanie, you’re going to have to suit up and take door duty until
an appropriate replacement arrives. Your weapons are waiting for you. As soon as possible report to your station for a full debriefing on what just happened here. I suspect we may have to remove Brett from his post.” Oliver paused for thought. “Then again, maybe we can just sweep all of this under the rug if everyone involved agrees that it never happened.”

Jack nodded. “
Sure.”

He
touched her shoulder as he followed Oliver into the clean room. “I’ll see you later.”

Chapter 44: Karl Marx

The warehouse on the other side felt alive. Jack took it all in as though for the first time.

He halted at an empty cage wondering why there was no creature within when he felt an invisible hand grab his arm and pull him against the bars.

Now he remembered;
it was the weird, normally cruel invisible creature.

He panicked,
fearing it would hurt him. He felt something wet slide into his ear and felt passion rush his senses, coming from the creatures touch. He almost succumbed to the pleasure when Oliver pulled him out of the see-through creatures grasp.

He
said, “I’m pretty sure it’s a female and I’m pretty sure it just tongue fucked my ear.”

Oliver cringed at his cursing but he was a res
earcher so he pulled out a notepad.

“
Is ‘tongue fucked’ one word or two?”

Jac
k laughed. “Sorry for swearing. It just surprised me is all. I think it likes me.”

Oliver put his pad away.
“The Doctor told me they act different around you. I think that scares him but not me, you intrigue me. You open up so many more avenues of research hitherto unavailable to us.”

Jack had never heard the word hitherto used in a real life conversation before now but he suspected the Doc and Oliver probably spoke to each other using such high falutin language all the time.

The werewolf was pacing and snorting at the ground. It looked agitated. A thick string of snot dangled from its huge snout. It didn’t look ferocious though, just upset. It halted in its tracks as they approached.

When it met Jack’s eyes it quickly looked down and away. Oliver gave
him a quizzical look but said nothing.

Jack looked away when they passed the huge man eating toad but he had to get another look at his clones.
There was something unique about being able to see yourself from the outside. It wasn’t at all like looking in a mirror. More like watching yourself on camera, except this was live.

There was the clone of Christmas past and the clone of Christmas present. They both nodded at him but otherwise remained statuesque.

He noted that the clone of Christmas present still had the death ball clutched in its hand.

“Now those are some
good looking fellas,” Jack remarked.

Oliver gave him a pity laugh that pissed him off.

There was a new creature in the next cell. It might have been the most freakish abomination he had yet seen. It almost looked like Karl Marx, crazy beard and all, except that it had blonde hair. The similarities ended at the torso.

Its
lower body was immense, filling a full third of the cage. It had six pointy legs like an ant and a hairy horse tail. It was as tall as a man. It was like a centaur but in all the wrong ways.

It was waxing philosophically
in a baritone, articulate human voice as they passed.

It said to no one in particular,
“A true God would not care if you believed in him. A loving God would not let you suffer. A creator does not create something he is not proud of; flaws would be fixed, adjustments would be made. God made you because he wanted something to hate.”

It flitted about angrily on its six pointed red legs as it spoke
. Its tail thrashed about flicking invisible flies away. But the torso remained steady regardless of what was going on underneath.

Oliver said as an explanation, “I might have accidentally read Jessie the wrong book last night. Sometimes I forget he’s only
ten.”

The abomination continued, “What kind of creator wants their creation to suffer and perish? If God is perfect shouldn’t his creation be perfect too. He didn’t
overlook a design flaw did he? No, he’s a bastard, truly, and a fraud. He expects devotion and yet gives nothing in return. If he wants a fight he’s going to get one.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at Oliver
. Oliver put his hands up in protest.

“I didn’t expect this
. I’m sorry. The boy’s imagination runs amuck sometimes.”

As they left the warehouse the Karl Marx creature started ranting about economics. “It is not for corporations to dictate what the free market….”

“What the hell did you read to him?” Jack asked, as they walked down the corridor.

“
1984 by George Orwell, but just the first dozen pages. I read it when I was a kid so maybe I was being nostalgic.”

“How the hell did he
conjure that beast from a book that isn’t about God or modern economics?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m taking too much credit for shaping his imagination.”

Oliver breathed heavily. “You’re right. I just hoped maybe I was getting through to him. I guess only you can do that.”

Although his stomach was buoyed with anticipation,
Jack was exhausted. “How long do you need me here tonight?”

Oliver sear
ched his face looking for clues. “I thought you’d love it down here. Look at what we’re dealing with. Look at what we’re a part of.”

Jack tried to match
the older man’s enthusiasm but he couldn’t muster it.

“Just asking. I’m all yours but I’m pretty tired so if we could get
right to it I would really appreciate it.”

“I’ll do my best but
that boy’s stubborn. He sleeps only when he wants to.”

Out of curiosity Jack
asked, “Have you tried sleeping pills?”

“They don’t work on him. Some of our earliest studies resulted in us finding out that
when he’s asleep, his mind isn’t in a sleep state in any way we recognize. We found out soon afterwards that sleeping pills just don’t work. I couldn’t tell you why.”

Oliver hushed his voice, “I heard the
Doctor even tried psychedelics on him once and nothing happened.”

“That’
s awful. He’s only ten.”

“I got called in a
few weeks after the Doctor got here and it was the rumor floating around when I arrived. But there were so many rumors back then that it’s hardly worth worrying about. I’m sure it was baseless nonsense. I’ve personally never seen the Doctor act unprofessionally.”

“Yeah, well I have. He made me tear an indestructible butterfly in half without warning me that I could actually do it.”

“Actually, that was my idea. Sorry it made you squeamish. I just had to know if the stories were true about you. The Doctor wanted you to shoot the werewolf to prove it but I thought that maybe you’d respond better to baby steps.”

“He still tried to get me to shoot the werewolf.”

“Ever the skeptic, Doctor Collins. It’s never enough to see something once; he always wants verification and repeated success. It’s a failing of most scientists but one that I happen to admire in the man. And I think it’s this very trait that’s driving him insane down here.”