The Fledge Effect (19 page)

His shoes squeaked on the newly polished tile as she shifted into his pocket for his
keys. He thumbed through them until he found
which key he was looking for.

Calista, balled up in the far corner, vigorously shook at the sight of him.
After unlocking the cage, he demanded
that he came with him.
She fought to pull away as he yanked
her by the arm. “Argh!”
The sun shined down, blinding her
sight as they passed by four men in sanitation
suits. Myers nodded at each one. Calista, however, pained when no one tried to stop him. She
narrowed her eyes at him. “You just have everyone under your belt, don’t you?”
He chuckled. “Just about, now keep
moving.” He pushed her against the car door in
order to unlock the sedan. However, she noticed, he refused to use his key fob.
“No,” she said as she nudged away. “I’m
not going anywhere with you.”
He shoved her inside, making her land
face down in a pile of trash and old food. She
propped herself up into the leather seat. “You
should learn how to clean.”
“And you should learn how to shut that
pretty trap of yours.”
After an hour of speeding down the
highway, he sped into a stop, parking into a lot
by a fenced in area.
He walked over to her side, dragging
her out by the back of neck.
“I’m not going with you,” she snapped,
pulling away.
With a large handful, he yanked back
her head, and with a deep, cynical, voice, he
said, “You will do as I command. To you, I am
God! I control you now. There is nothing you, or
anyone, can do about it.”
He led her, knowingly, down a corridor
beneath the Fledge Camp. The walls, now, lined
with once normal appearing Fledges. Their
flesh dropped from their faces, but a twinkle of
sadness beamed in the eyes of the lost souls.
“Where are we?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“Then, where are you taking me?”
His jaw clenched as they approached a
lone, metal, door. “Here.”
Inside, there was a single metal slab of
a table with five different restraint systems on
it. In a chair, similar to the table, sat a woman.
“No,” Calista screamed as she kicked
her feet into the air. She pressed up against the
frame, keeping her from going in. “Let go of
me!”
He grunted, and with one quick nudge,
she landed face down on the tile floor. Her head
lifted as he yanked her by the hair. “Stand,” he
demanded.
The woman, dazed, groaned a melancholy tone.
Myers growled, “Shut the hell up!”
He slammed Calista down on the table
as he snapped her wrist in the first restraint.
With a bit of a struggle, he succeeded in securing the last four; one around her head, other
arm, and both of her feet.
An echo sliced through the, now, darkened air as he slammed the door shut.
She twisted and jerked her limbs, and
with no prevail she succumbed to her new
prison. “This is not what I was planning when I
wanted to be safe from people,” she whispered
to herself.
“T-tests… T-tests… Pain,” the woman
whispered.
“What? You’re alive. How do we get
out?”
“Pain… T-tests.”
“They’re going to do tests on us? What
kind?” Calista clenched her fists.
The woman moaned, unable to answer
coherently.
“Who are you? What’s your name?”
“Chris…t-t…I….”
“Christy?”
She moaned again. “Christ…t….”
“Crystal?”
“Teen! Christine,” she bellowed with
all, but little, strength she could muster.
“Okay, calm down. Look, I will get us
out. I promise.” She squeezed in her abdomen,
grunted, as she continued to pull at the straps.
“Once I am able to budge these bitches free, I
will.”
•••
The door clicked as Marcel eased it open. A mixture of lemon and bleach wafted into his face. It
burned his nostrils as he edged further into the
laboratory.
My wife must’ve dropped by,
he
joked, falling a bit sullen remembering the days
she would just clean for no reason. His heart
ached, missing her warm kiss from a hard day
of spring-cleaning in the middle of summer.
However, one scent in particular caught
his attention the most.
Ammonia
, he noted before kneeling down at the mop and bucket left
behind the coat rack. He felt a strand of the
mop. It was still wet, as was the bottom of the
blue bucket. He tilted the bucket on its side, and
read it was from USSN: United Sanitation Services of the Navy. He cocked his head to the
right, squinting his eyes around the darkened
room.
He flipped on the light.
“Doctor Johnston? Why are you here?”
He spun around at the familiar
woman’s voice. His eyes met with Jane.
“Agent?” he said, tossing a quick glance
over to the agape closet door. “Where is she?
What have you done to my daughter?”
She held up a hand. “Relax. I actually
came here to find her missing.”
“Why did you want her? Huh? For more
of your silly, ungodly, experiments?”
“No,” she hissed. “I wanted to save her.
Hank, err, um, Agent Myers, is the one wanting
to continue with the experimentation. I was told
to end it.”
“End it?”
“Yes. It was a mistake. We should have
known that a perfect copy of my kind was not
possible.”
His anger shifted, lightened, relieved.
“Who is ‘
we’
? And what are you talking about,
‘
My kind’
?”
“Look, I don’t have time to explain. Myers already had his crew in here. They cleaned
up any evidence of Grant, or your daughter, ever
being here.”
“What does he want with her?”
“We took in a couple of newly transformed Fledges. A mother and daughter. We
tested them with a fifty-year old project that was
thought to be destroyed. Experiment Z. The
mother, however, is dying from it. Her daughter, Katie, survived it. Myers wants to see how
much further he can take it. Boss never knew
about it.”
“Experiment Z? You mean that old military vaccine that was banned by the CDC. I
thought it was just a defective small pox vaccine.”
“That is what they told the press. But,
you can’t always believe what you see online. At
least, Myers and I didn’t believe it. And Katie
was proof of it.”
He shook, containing his tongue from
spewing out profanities. He knew she was genuinely trying to help, and knew verbally attacking her would not be a smart move. “What does
it do, exactly?”
“Creates a Fledge like me. Normal, natural, and able to blend more easily within a human crowd. No one would ever suspect a thing
unless we used our strength and agility in public. That, in which case, is not normal or natural.”
His eyes widened, shocked. “Like Steven.”
She furrowed her brows, nearing him.
“Who?”
“Well, his childhood name was Tommy.
He was the one of a hundred test subjects that
was the only survivor to the tests that gave him
those abilities. Doctor Seizer was there. He performed the tests himself.”
“Seizer? Where is he?”
“Dead. Steven killed him after he became what Calista is and tried to attack someone.”
“And Steven?”
“Alive, at least, until Myers decides to
flip the switch. Then, everyone will die… His
strength, it’s-it’s outstanding. I mean, he, alone,
will be able to even form his own empire if he
wanted after humans are diminished.”
“That is the thing about these
Super
Fledges. The switch doesn’t affect them, or me,
for that matter.”
She tossed her coat over her shoulder.
“Come on. We’re leaving.”
“Where?”
“To save your daughter, and end this
before it becomes a biological warfare.”
•••
Emily crossed, then uncrossed her legs repeatedly. She fidgeted in the chair across from
Leanne. Her hands patted her knees, focused on
the light ticking of the bird clock above her
head. Many birds circled around the rim, used
as a form of telling time by their individual
breed of chirps.
A shotgun sprawled across Gene’s lap.
He wiped it down with a white cloth, occasionally turning the toothpick in his mouth on either
side of his lips.
She rolled her eyes thinking,
why did I
agree to come here?
But, when she noticed Nick
and his hands tightly intertwined, she halfsmiled at him.
“Nick, did you get contacts? Your eyes
are different,” Leanne said, leaned in.
“I, uh—“
Gene broke him off. “I thought I told
you not to show your face here again. I don’t
care what mayhem is breaking loose.” His voice
cracked through different levels of deep and
lower than deep.
“I know. But, hasn’t it been long
enough?”
“Long enough to do what? Huh? You
destroyed your future by running off. Now, look
at where you are. This ain’t even your home anymore.”
“My future? My future was not destroyed. I went to college. I have a Masters in
Journalism.”
“Have you done anything with that degree?”
Nick slouched back into the recliner,
sighed. “No. The job market for it, is, well, not
so kind.”
Gene raised his brow. “See. Ruined.”
“It’s better than wasting my days away
behind a counter running a hardware store.
That place costs you more money than it is
worth, or pays. I would be broke.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be running it. And,
yes, you would be broke.”
“Huh?”
“The shop closed down. Five years ago.”
Nick bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he
said softly, appeasing the anger inside his fathers’ glance.
“It’s fine.”
“Dad?”
Gene yanked his gaze up.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know, son. So, why are you here?
Hiding away from those demon creatures?”
“Actually… I am one.”
Gene cocked his gun up to Nick’s face.
“What?”
Nick pushed up from the dusty, brown,
chair. He raised his hands in defeat. “It’s fine! I
am okay, for now.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing if I can stop it.”
The door flung open. Trudy, who stood
at the wide opening, heaved heavily, red in the
face with exasperation. “Marcel is gone. He said
he had to get something from his lab.”
“Calista,” Emily gasped. “Nick, he could
be trouble. We have to go get him!”
“Okay. But if he is, I think it would be
best if Steven and I leave.” He cupped her face,
kissed her forehead. “You stay here. There’s not
much you could do without killing yourself. Especially if things were to go from bad to shit in
point two seconds.”
“Like, what? I can kill a few rogue
Fledges.”
“Even if it were me you would have to
kill?” He pulled his lips back in a grim strip.
She chuckled nervously. “Totally!” Her
hands curled into her chest, her face flushed
with never-ending warmth.
“Uh-huh.”
He is right,
she thought.
I would never
hurt him.
“Okay. Go. Be safe.”
Before he turned out the door, she
stopped him. “Nick, wait. I have to tell you
something.”
He tilted his head, watched as concern
swept over eyes. “What is it?”
She picked at her nails, wobbled.
We
have a daughter you don’t know about
, she
thought, realized the words never left her
mouth. “I, uh,” she stammered, “be careful.”

Myers kept his face devoid by wearing
the masks he once mocked The Renegades for
wearing. He strolled over to her side, revealed.
A grim smile tightened over his lips. The morose
look in his eyes sprung an itching, shuddered,
fear inside Calista.

“I have a surprise for you,” he droned,
matched the dark shade of gray, crazy, in his
eyes.

“Wait,” she vociferated. “Get away from
me.”
Her shrill request paused him. He
leaned back against an imaginary wall, livid.
“What?” he hissed through his yellowed teeth.
“Before you kill me, can you at least tell
me what you are going to do with me?”
He cackled. “I, potentially, won’t kill
you.” He brought his fist in front of his chest,
clenched a syringe filled with purple foam. “Experiment Z. Perfected to make a perfect human.”
“Why? Is this you trying to help me?”
“
Help you?
Ha, don’t make me laugh.
No, no. You see, I am simply helping myself.”
“How is making me human, helping
you out? Karma points, maybe?”
“No, heh. I said ‘
almost human’
. Helping you out is the last thing on my list… No, actually, it will never be on my list. See,” he
rounded the table, “you will still, very much, be
a Fledge. Just…
Evolved
. That’s it. However, it
is much easier to control an absent mind than a
non-stop killing machine.”
Smitten in his discovery, he tapped his
fingers on his key fob. “With this, I have to click
a button, and that is all it takes to release a
frenzy of creatures. But with this,” he tapped the
tube of the syringe, “all I need is the first thirty
seconds of your time after injection.”
“I hope you die, you sadistic ass.”
He chuckled, ignored her wish. “You
know, I had a young girl in here. She, and her
mother,” he tossed a quick glance over to Christine, “were both injected with this. The girl survive, but I can’t say much for Christine. My first
mistake was allowing that little brat to be field
tested before successfully brainwashing her
my
way
. Instead, I allowed my counterpart, Jane
Brinks, to do it. God! She is stupid. I should
have killed her a long time ago.”
“So, what? You inject me with that stuff,
and I pretty much become your slave?”
“More like body guard. You see, I am
still going to unleash hell. I just needed a few
Fledges to be unaffected by the key fob in order
to keep me safe while I further my ultimate
plan.”
“Why strangers? Why not people you
know?”
He started getting irritated with persistent chatter. His lips curled. He pressed the needle into her arm then stared into her eyes, he
said, “Because everyone I know are idiots!”
The door boomed open, before he was
able to complete his objective. Jane pointed her
gun to the back of his head. “Freeze!”
His hands trembled towards the top of
his head. “Don’t worry,” he sidestepped, turned
around, “nothing has happened.”
“Nothing will ever be done by you, ever
again!”
Marcel squeezed past her. “Calista!” he
said, rushed.
Myers dropped his hand back onto the
syringe. “Another inch and you will be playing
Russian Rolette with your daughters’ life.”
His heartbeat drummed, livid. He reddened, flustered. “I swear, if you do anything to
hurt her, I’ll-I’ll—.”
“You’ll, what? Kill me? Shut up, Old
Man.”
“Hank let her go! I swear to God, I will
shoot!”
He chuckled, menaced, whipping out
his gun. “Drop it. I will shoot as well.”
“Your bullets won’t harm her,” Marcel
said.
“
These
will.” He furrowed his brow,
shading his jaded eyes.
“Oh, shit,” Jane said, murmured.
“Now drop your gun, or all of you will
soon meet your fates.”
Naturally desensitized by nature, Jane
found an ambivalent turmoil brewed in the pit
of her stomach. She cared about them,
including Hank.
She felt sure their souls were a match.
She loved him, but now she shakes at the ultimate choice she is faced to make.
What am I going to do?
She thought.
•••
Steven veered into the University’s parking lot,
parking into a spot closest the entrance. He removed the keys from the ignition, edged. “Are
you sure about this?”
“Where else would he have gone? This
lab, from my understanding, was his home.”
“Then, he should be safe, right? Why
did we have to come here?”
Nick swept his eyes across the lot. Two
cars down, sat Marcels’. “I didn’t want to say anything about this before, but when I was here I
noticed something strange. I thought it was
nothing, but I fear that I was wrong to pass
blinding judgement.”
“What?”
“The dean, here. Dean Schmick. When
I was here, I saw him and the mayor arguing
about something. I’m not sure what. But, if I
had to guess, it would have to be that it has
something to do with this Project Fledge.”
The doors clicked, swung open.
Nick stared across the rooftop, after
placing sunglasses over his eyes. “After we find
Marcel, let’s have a little chat with Dean
Schmick.”
Steven opened the glass entrance door.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Nick stuck his head into Marcel’s old laboratory. He flicked his wrist, waving his hand
for Steven to start heading towards Dean
Schmick’s office. “He’s not here. It doesn’t seem
like anyone was ever here,” he said, shutting the
door. “Come on.”
The riveting seriousness, quivered in
Nick’s eyes. Steven asked, “Do you think he
would know anything about his whereabouts? I
mean, Marcel did say he was coming here. So
where is he?”
“Let’s find out.” Nick padded his feet
down the hall, narrowed.
Schmick resided behind his oak wood
desk. His desperate attempt at replication of
the, esteemed, Oval Office was too obvious. Almost too cliché to make fun of.
He peered into his small, squared, mirror giving inaudible, imaginary, speeches.
Without hesitation, Nick flung his office door open, brushed inside. “Where is he?
Where is Marcel?” he said with a suggestive
tone.
He fumbled in his maroon, leather,
chair, dropping his mirror flat upon his desk.
He smiled, coy. “I have no idea what you are
talking about.”
“He came here, but we can’t find him.
This is your University, so you must know
where he is.”
Schmick rose from his desk, huffed.
“Doctor Johnston, and his lunatic ideas, were
removed from the premises. He no longer works
here. Now, leave or get arrested!”
Nick darted across the desk, plummeted on top of Schmick’s desk, crunching the
mirror beneath his steel-toed shoe. He grasped
Schmick’s white color then shook him vigorous
enough to knock his head back and forth. He
droned, slow, “Tell me where he is now.”
“Please,” he pleaded. “I-I d-don’t know.
I’m telling you the truth.”
“You’re lying!” Nick whisked his fist,
crunched into his face, smashing Schmick’s
nose. Blood poured from his nostrils, sending a
sort of frenzy inside of Nick.
Schmick’s cheeks wobbled, feared.
“What do you want? I don’t know anything.”
Steven wrapped his arms around Nick,
pulling him out of the room. “Stop it! I don’t believe he is lying.”
Schmick’s door slammed shut, keeping
a barrier between him and any listening ears.
He fumbled his hand towards the phone then
dialed two, three, eight, and pound. “Agent
Kay… Two are here… Yeah, they just left my office.”
A few doors down, Nick slammed his
fists into the wall. “What now?”
Steven shook his head, stifled. Before
he could answer, a flickered shadow caught his
attention. He stalked up against the wall,
paused.
Agent Kay, stealthily behind the next
corner saw them idle in the hall. “I’ll get them,”
she said into her phone before ending the call.
She placed her phone deep into her pocket,
rounding the corner where she was stopped by
the brute force of Steven’s chest. She flailed her
arm towards his face, stopped by his wrist. She
jumped back, kicking her foot up his chin. He
dropped to the ground, winced.
Nick bolted towards them, grabbing her
by the throat then slamming her against the
concrete wall. “Who are you? Who do you work
for?”
“I-I know where your friend is,” she
said, struggled. She placed her hand behind her
back, and reached into her back pocket. She
pulled out a small tube with a tiny red button on
the top, leading down a fine-point tip. She
clutched it inside her palm.
“Where?” Nick demanded, shoving her
face into the wall with his elbow.
“I know. I know!”
He planted her feet on the ground,
gripped her by the arm then disarmed her.
“Show us.”
Steven grabbed her other arm, helped
guide her outside.
•••
Hank kept steady pressure on Calista. “Are you
going to shoot me, or what?”
Jane shook. “Let go of her, and maybe I
won’t have to.”
He shook his head, pressing on the syringe. She fired a shot, missing him as he
ducked out of the way. The bullet pinged into a
pipe on the wall, releasing bouts of hot steam.
He dodged the steam, bolting after her.
He smashed her down to the floor. Her gun
knocked free from her grip. She wrapped her
fingers around his neck, kneeing him in the
groin. He head-butted her in the nose, freeing
her grip. Flat on her back, she reached for her
gun as he pulled his out on her. Together, they
pulled the trigger; on her stomach, and his
heart.
With her last breath, she muttered, “I
really did love you.”
Marcel rushed to Calista’s side, attempting to wave away the wet fog. He tugged
off the straps, and flicked out the syringe. “Are
you okay?” he breathed out. She nodded.
He helped her up then ushered towards
the door.
“Wait! Get Christine, too.”
He ran over to her, contemplating how
the chair unlatches. Calista, weakened, collapsed on the floor. With her last bit of strength,
she edged towards Hank, knocking a box and
key ring free from his blazer pocket. She
smashed the key fob in a million little pieces
then closed her eyes.
Christine collapsed in his arms; he
shook, feeling a deep depression when the fog
shortly cleared over Calista. “No!” he said,
drowned in bursts of tears.
He jumped to her side, clutching her
cold body to his chest. He rocked back and forth
whimpering loudly. “Calista! No!”
The door wafted in, releasing the steam
into the corridor. Steven knelt down, his face
warmed. “Marcel….” He stared down onto her.
Nick followed in. His eyes inadvertently
drew to a small golden box on the floor. He
picked it up, clicked it open. Inside were pictures of a fetus, and then he saw a photo of
Emily holding a baby girl.
He sighed then dropped to the floor
next to Calista.