Fook (47 page)

“Hell, I guess I’m about all you have left,”
Jason continued. “Maybe you and I could have a future together.
What-a-ya think?”

Sarah didn’t answer as she continued to
stare through her tears at Derek.

“Alright, I realize that it might not be
easy at first but I think, with some time, you could begin to feel
differently. I really can be a likable guy.”

Still she said nothing.

“Argh,” Derek started to moan.

“Derek!”

“Mother...,” Jason raised the gun and fired
the last two rounds.

Seeing Derek’s body jump and then fall still
again with the fourth and fifth shots, Sarah screamed, just as a
tingling sensation began to spread across her skin and Jason,
closing his eyes, uttered “Hang on.”

FIFTY

As the brilliant flash of light faded, the room
slowly came back into focus, only it wasn't the same room. The
instruments were gone, replaced by a roaring fire in a large brick
fireplace and a portrait of some elderly, Asian woman hanging above
it. Beside the fireplace was an armchair…a very familiar armchair
actually.

“That’s impossible,” Sarah whispered, though
she shouldn’t have been surprised by anything given the
unbelievable events of the last couple of days.

Confirming her suspicions, she turned her
head to the left, spotting the expected desk in the far corner of
the room. It was the same desk on which Derek had found the letter
about newly born Jason. Instead of the pile of papers and books
that had been on it earlier that day, there now stood a large
electronic device that resembled a television, though she’d never
seen a T.V. quite that large nor with such oddly flat
dimensions.

“Some rush, huh?”

Sarah spun around to find Jason standing
right behind her.

Anticipating her scream, Jason slapped a
hand over her mouth.

“Not that anyone can hear you. I just hate
that sound.”

Sarah redirected the expression of fear to
her eyes instead.

“You’re a smart girl,” Jason lowered his
hand. “Do you know where you are?”

“Mr. Fook’s house,” Sarah answered.

“Technically the house belonged to my great
grandmother, Ushi Fook” Jason motioned to the woman in the large
portrait. “The man you’re referring to was her brother, Jian, which
is a bit ironic if you ask me because I can’t remember a day of his
life that he wasn’t sick,” Jason chuckled.

Sarah just stared at him.

“Healthy. His name meant healthy,” Jason
clarified, annoyed that he had to explain his humor. “He died when
I was young so I never really got a chance to know him anyway. My
great grandmother however, I knew her very—“

“—You don’t know do you?” Sarah asked.

“Know what?” Jason paused, confused.

“What made him sick,” she clarified.

Jason just stared at her, not sure what she
was talking about.

With a smile, “Keep this up and you’ll find
out eventually,” she wiped away her tears.

“Keep what up? What the hell are you talking
about?”

“The jumping,” a third voice chimed in from
the other side of the room to Jason’s back.

Grabbing hold of Sarah, Jason spun around as
he brought the knife to her throat.

She’d spotted the man, standing in the
corner, as soon as she’d turned around to face Jason. Though she
hadn’t been able to see his face, she knew who it was.

“Jian and I had the same conversation,” the
voice continued as Derek stepped out of the shadowy corner of the
room, though it wasn’t the same Derek that either of them
remembered. Though the years had been kind to him, the lines in his
face, coupled with the smattering of grey in his beard, told Sarah
that some time had passed.

“What the fuck? Don’t you die?” Jason asked
in frustration.

“Bulletproof vest,” Derek answered. “Maybe
you should've shot me in the face.”

“Good idea,” Jason responded, raising the
gun one more time and attempted to pull the trigger before noticing
the slide locked in the empty position. “Shit,” he tossed the gun
to the floor, raising the knife to Sarah’s throat instead.

“It’s going to kill you,” Derek continued as
he slowly inched forward, causing Jason to slide toward the large,
open doorway leading to the foyer.

“What is? You?” Jason laughed.

“The jumping,” Sarah added.

Jason shot her a look of confusion.

“Jian had a brain tumor, not to mention he
was senile as fuck,” Jason continued his retreat.

“And what do you think gave him that tumor?”
Derek continued toward them.

“Stay back,” Jason grabbed hold of Sarah’s
hair, further exposing her neck as he pressed the blade to her
flesh.

“Jason, put down the knife. It’s over,”
Derek stopped his advance.

“Over,” Jason laughed. “Are you fucking
blind. Who’s got the knife? You know, I was a bit disappointed when
I thought I’d killed you. I really did want you to watch her die,
and as luck would have it, I'll still get my wish.”

“I’m not going to let you do that,
Jason.”

“Really? And how are you planning to stop
me?”

“I’m not.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jason laughed.

“He is,” Derek motioned behind them.

Turning, Jason caught a glimpse of a younger
Derek, just as the baseball bat struck his skull.

*****

“Jason. Wake up. How hard did you hit him?” Jason
could hear a male voice ask, though he felt too weak to open his
eyes.

“I don’t know,” a second male voice
answered. “Hard enough.”

“Guys, I think he’s coming to,” Sarah
interrupted.

“Arghh,” Jason moaned.

“Jason,” Derek leaned in close, separating
one of Jason’s eyelids with his fingers.

“His pupils are dilating,” Sarah added.
“That’s good.”

“Jason, wake up,” Derek slapped the
semiconscious man.

The impact of the hand sent a wave of pain
through his already throbbing head. “Ah!” he cried, finally
managing to open his eyes, though it took a moment for the room and
the three figures standing in front of him to stop spinning.

“Is it working?” the younger version of
Derek asked as Sarah grabbed Jason’s bound wrist, checking for a
pulse.

“His pulse is slow but strong. It’s wearing
off. We need to do this quick before he regains the ability to
jump,” Sarah answered.

“Do what?” Jason asked, finally regaining
his sight and realizing that they’d tied and duct taped him to a
folding metal chair. “What did you do to me? Who the—“, Jason
looked back and forth at the young and old versions of his
friend.

“Drake,” the younger version of Derek
introduced himself with a nod.

“Drake?” Jason asked confused.

“Yeah, my parents thought it would be odd to
name their newborn son after the twenty two year old version of
himself,” old Derek attempted to clarify, though based on the look
on Jason's face, a more elaborate explanation was needed. “Once I
came to and realized that you’d taken Sarah, I tried to figure out
how I was going to get her back. It didn’t take me long to realize
my only option. I didn’t have the ability to snap my fingers and
follow you. I had to do it the old fashion way and wait. During
that time I managed to convince my parents who I was.”

Jason shot him a dismissive look.

“I was just as surprised as you. They really
are an understanding couple. A few 'impossible to know family
secrets' and I had them questioning, but it wasn’t until that first
look into their newborn’s eyes…,” Derek motioned to Drake “…that I
finally had them sold.”

“Fine. Now there are two of you to kill,”
Jason either accepted what he was being told or didn’t really care
as he closed his eyes, but after a few seconds, opened them again,
confused by his continued captivity.

“That’s not going to work right now,” Derek
added.

“What did you do?” Jason panicked, closing
his eyes again.

“Oh...we just shot you up with a little
something to thin your blood and slow you heart rate,” Sarah
smiled.

“We had a lot of time to think this
through."

“Without proper blood flow, your brain lacks
sufficient oxygen,” Drake explained.

“You see, I developed this theory that your
ability doesn’t just stem from the genetic mutation in your blood.
It also requires a strong mind to process the vast amount of data
necessary for such a reaction,” Derek continued. “My guess is that
this is why not everyone in your family could do it.”

“It’s only the males and every other
generation,” Jason dismissed the insulting allusion. “My
grandmother was a brilliant woman.”

“Insanity doesn’t denote brilliance,” Drake
mocked.

“Though in your case, I guess they just
might go hand in hand,” Derek added.

“Fuck you.”

“Guys, we’re running out of time,” Sarah
interjected, holding Jason’s wrist again.

“Don’t touch me, bitch.”

Kneeling down beside Jason, Derek picked up
the open briefcase and placed it on Jason’s lap.

“I destroyed that,” Jason looked down at the
device in disbelief.

“I’m sure you did,” Derek replied as he
punched away at a cell phone in his hand, the device responding
with a beep, followed by a low hum. “I built another one.”

“Fine, send me wherever you want. As soon as
this shit wears off I’ll be right back here slitting your fucking
throats or maybe I’ll just wait a while; keep you looking over your
shoulders for the rest of your lives. There’s nothing you can do to
stop me. I’m invincible and you know it, so go ahead. Hit the
button. Nothing’s gonna change what I’ve already done nor will it
stop what I’m going to do. You’re all gonna die like that little
slut's father and sister.

“You want the honors,” Derek turned to
Sarah, holding out the phone.

“Gladly,” Sarah took the phone, turning back
to Jason, “This is for my family, asshole.”

As she touched the screen, the device began
to hum louder as a static charge built in the air around them, and
soft crackling gave way to much louder snaps. Then, with a burst of
light, the briefcase, Jason, and the chair on which he sat, were
gone.

With a sigh of relief, Sarah placed the
phone on the table and turned to face Derek and the much younger
version she’d grown accustom to. Though separated by a twenty-five
year age difference, they were both familiar. Sure, Drake was the
spot on, visual match to what...up until half an hour ago...were
her only memories of Derek but it was in their eyes where the two
diverged. Though very much the same, they'd both lived completely
different lives, and in that moment it was perfectly clear how she
felt as she ran into Derek’s arms, and placing her hand to his
older, hairier face, she looked into those familiar eyes as their
lips joined.

“What if he does come back?” Sarah suddenly
interrupted their embrace.

Looking at his younger counterpart, “I don’t
think that’s going to be possible.”

“Quivering jello,” Drake smiled.

“What does—?” Sarah started to question
before Derek cut her off with another, even more passionate
kiss.

FIFTY-ONE

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Jennifer’s eyes glistened at
the sight of little Oliver through the nursery window.

“Do all hospitals use the same blanket
manufacturer?” Bill stared at this new born son, his mind obviously
in a completely different place than his wife’s.

“What?”

“The blankets they’re all wrapped in,” he
motioned to the room full of infants. “They’re all the same; a
white blanket with a blue stripe.”

Jennifer just stared at her husband. She
knew he was apprehensive about being a father for the first time.
Throughout the adoption process he’d shown signs of hesitation, but
this was the worst yet. The day was finally here, and instead of
staring lovingly at their new son, he was more concerned with the
sales statistics of a blanket manufacturer.

“I’m only bringing it up because I’m pretty
sure the same blanket is in my baby pictures and I’m willing to bet
that every television show and movie I’ve ever seen used the same
blankets as well.”

“Bill.“

“Don’t you find that pretty amazing?”

“Bill.”

“I mean, there have to be other companies
that produce them. Or maybe there’s some national design standard
that every company has agreed on.”

“Bill!”

Acknowledging his rambling, Bill stopped
talking.

“I know you’re nervous,” Jennifer comforted
her husband, wrapping her arms around him and looking up into his
eyes. “I’m nervous too, but everything is going to be alright. In a
couple of days you, me and Oliver are going to be home and we’re
going to be the happiest family ever. There's nothing that can come
between us and there’s absolutely nothing for you to worry about.
You’re going to be a great father. Now, shut up and enjoy the
moment.”

Smiling, he knew she was right, so taking
her advice, he turned his scrutinizing attention away from the
identical blankets and focused on his sleeping son.

“Isn’t he precious?”

Turning, Bill and Jennifer spotted Mrs.
Brown standing in the doorway of the hospital room across the
hall.

“Breathtaking,” Jennifer replied. “Again, I
can’t thank you enough for choosing us.”

“I can’t take the credit. Tiffany had the
final decision,” Mrs. Brown joined them at the window. “She may not
have been thinking when she got herself into this situation, but
she really is a smart kid. Besides, I would have chosen you guys
anyway. We just want the best for the baby, and I…
we
think
you two will be perfect parents.”

“Remember, we want you guys involved as much
as you feel comfortable,” Bill reminded the would be grandmother.
“We consider you both as much a part of our family as Oliver.”