Regenesis (Book 1): Impact (11 page)

He
opened it and skimmed through the notes and information, which he relayed to
Drake, “It says here he was shot twice, once in the heart and in the stomach.
They don’t mention any witnesses, though there was another death on the scene–”

“Yes,”
Drake interrupted him, “What else?”

“Ah,”
he read on and frowned, “There aren’t any suspects or theories of motive,
though they’re questioning whether a disgruntled student killed him and the
principal over possible expulsion or a failing grade.”

“But
there isn’t any mention of who that could have been?”

“No,
sorry.”

Drake
told him it was fine. “How did you manage to find all of this anyway Sho? In
fact, how the hell do you get confidential police reports without any effort?”

“It’s
all through REFOIA,” he told him.

“REFOIA?”

Sho
stopped typing. “REFOIA. The Realistic Entirety of the Freedom of Information
Act, established in twenty-eighteen by a radical group of the same name. They
have over one-hundred fifty websites devoted to streaming free information
about everything. A majority of the sites are shut down every day, but most are
reactivated under cover sites within minutes of them being closed. They exist
to one; continue to be an annoyance to the United States Government, and two,
to continue informing the public about whatever they need to know about.”

“Alright.”

Sho
heard him, but continued anyway, “They have information about everything, every
car ever made, what homework documents were stolen and from whom and what site,
the meaning of every word, phrase, or idiom in every language, how to hotwire
cars, hack into GPS–”

“Sho!”
Drake stopped him. “Thanks for the tutorial, but I’ve got my hands full on my
end.”

“Oh,
sorry about that.”

“No…It’s
fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Okay,
I’ll talk to you then.”

“And
Sho,” Drake stopped him, “Thanks for your help. If there’s anything I can do–”

“Yeah,
yeah. Just get me a better job once you get promoted, okay?” Sho joked as he
hung up.

“ready!>” Misa called out from the kitchen.

Sho
quickly saved the two documents he’d viewed to his personal archives, logged
out of REFOIA, closed the web browser, logged off his computer, and set it
aside on the side table next to his side of the couch. He grabbed his
controller, saved his game, and shut it off right as Misa walked down the steps
into his den with their dinner of yakisoba, rice, and steamed asparagus.

Sho
hurried over to her to take the plates from her and allowed her to take her
seat, which she thanked him for. He noticed the asparagus and made a face.
“”

Misa
glared at him, “it.>”

He
jokingly acted like an unhappy five year old and joined her on the couch. She
smirked and turned to their television program right as Sho took a bite of the
asparagus. His eyes widened and he looked at his wife and proclaimed her as the
best chef he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. Misa only rolled her eyes and
laughed.

---*---

August 17
^th
,
2029

5:18 AM

Paris, France

The
girl sat behind a black table in a small room with white walls and a tiled
floor. Her hands trembled as she stared at the table and waited for the steel
door to swing open. She couldn’t tell if anyone was outside or not since she
hadn’t heard a thing since they brought her to that room. All she could think
of was how she possibly traveled so far so quickly and if her eyes deceived her
when she was outside those walls.

Metal
shifted and the door swung open. An Asian man entered and closed the door
behind him. He spoke but she couldn’t understand what he had said. The man
grinned, his eyes flashed, and he asked in Arabic, “correct?>”

Her
eyes lit up, “explain things!>”

He
smiled, “here in Paris. What’s your name?>”

“this is really Paris?>” the girl asked.

“but what’s your name?>”

“I’m Afifa Shaheen.>” she quickly answered.

A
small notepad was produced from the man’s pocket; he wrote that down and
continued to question her, “Paris?>”

“not sure…What time is it?>”

“in the morning,>” Detective Mizuno told her without looking at his watch.

She
frowned, “”

“”
He paused to take a few notes before he questioned her again, “one of the neighboring cities?>”

“”

“are you here vacationing with your family?>”

She
shook her head, “”

The
man stopped writing, “”

“don’t know, I was at my home in Palestine–>”

“were in Palestine this morning? How did you arrive here then?>” he broke in.

“told you, I don’t know!>” Afifa’s trembling grew worse, “with a headache, and then there was a bright light and I woke up and saw those
people who brought me here.>”

“have no idea what happened or how you got here?>” he asked her, and she told
him she didn’t. “light?>”

She
thought a moment, “”

Mizuno
jotted notes down, then stared at Afifa for a moment, and then wrote more. He
stopped and told her, “terrorist.>”

Afifa’s
breathing became erratic and very rapid, “don’t want to hurt anyone!>” The detective tried to calm her, but she continued,
“even know how I got here!>”

“Afifa!>” Mizuno tried to comfort her, but she broke into a fit of tears,
“what happened and to send you back home, but I need you to calm down and help
me.>” She nodded and tried to choke back her fear, “in Palestine, correct?>”

“”

“explain to me exactly what happened this morning.>”

“was at home. I couldn’t sleep at all because of a headache.>”

“long did you have this headache?>” he asked.

“six weeks…>” she guessed.

“weeks?>”

“came and went, and the pain grew as time passed.>”

“it here now?>”

She
paused. “”

“there’s one good thing, but what else do you remember?>”

“father came out and began talking to me, the pain left and then rapidly
returned, more severe than before. However, this time a light came with it. It
was blinding. When I opened my eyes…well, woke up, I was here in Paris.>”

The
detective took some notes and then asked, “for me?>”

“couldn’t think clearly, sometimes I felt like throwing up, and other times I
couldn’t see straight. But there was an image in my mind when the pain was
there.>”

Mizuno
looked up from his notes, “”

Afifa
nodded, “the side of a street one day a few years ago. I saw the picture of Paris and I
thought it was the most beautiful place on earth.>”

“you’d seen the picture before?>” He asked. Afifa nodded and Mizuno paused
and wrote on the notepad, pausing only to glance at Afifa a few times. After
two minutes of silence, he closed the notepad and stashed it back in his coat.
He walked to the wall by the door and pressed his back against it, before he
continued, “Do you understand what that is?>” She nodded. He then asked, “think of your home, is there an open area nearby?>” She nodded. “think there could be anyone else there right now?>”

She
shook her head, “some of the neighbor kids are there.>”

“six-twenty-three at the moment in your hometown, do you believe they’d be awake
now and out there?>” he questioned.

She
thought a moment and said, “have to do with my interrogation?>”

“trust me. And don’t ever do this near people.>” Mizuno closed his eyes,
“” he continued to instruct her, “they are near, tell them to keep their eyes shut until you know the light has
gone. Now please, close your eyes, and focus on that open area that you told me
about.>”

“”
She was nervous, but did as she was told. She closed her eyes and pictured her
home, a humble home with old canary paint. The roof had only a few of their
original shingles left, most of which were replaced by metal sheets. Trash
littered the yard that overlooked Gaza. Behind her home was a small dusty
forest where she would occasionally explore when she wanted to be alone. There
was a small discarded couch next to a pair of bushes that was only a minute’s
walk from her house. Broken bottles, tires, and pieces of different machines
lay scattered about the empty field. She could even picture the rusted car
frame that lay nearby too.

The
room grew brighter, but she kept her eyes shut tight. There was no noise, no
sound of the officer she had met, and she no longer felt the table in front of
her. After a moment it faded, and Afifa was hit with a blast of sudden heat.
She opened her eyes and found herself facing the red rusted car she had thought
of only moments earlier. Afifa turned and discovered that she had returned
home, back to the Gaza Strip.

---*---

August 16
^th
,
2029

9:15 PM

Bothell, Washington

The
storm cleared up a few hours before Nick arrived at his high school. Nick had
stopped crying around that time too.  He sat a few blocks away from the school
on his motorcycle and failed to move. All he could think about was his brother
and the numbing reality that he was gone. Nick couldn’t shake it from his mind
and he couldn’t get away from it or the inevitable tailspin of his own life. He
knew Drake tried to call him half a dozen times, but he let it ring. Nick
didn’t want to talk about his brother’s death, not to Drake, Paul, Ian, Jordan,
or anyone for that matter. All they were going to say was how sorry they were
or that they were there for him in his time of need. Nick lost his brother;
whatever sympathies they felt they needed to share, real or false, wouldn’t
bring him any peace.

Nick
finally stepped off of his motorcycle and walked slowly to the school. He
didn’t park in the most ideal location, but at that moment he truly didn’t care
if someone made off with it. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted it anymore or
that he could even afford it now that Victor was gone.

He
silently approached the school and noticed the police car in the front parking
lot. He changed course and headed for the rear entrance of the school. Drake,
Ian, Jordan, and Nick had a history of sneaking into the school after hours, so
Nick knew exactly how to get in, what motion sensors to avoid, and where he was
headed.

When
he and his friends broke in all they would do was set up elaborate pranks on
certain teachers. It wasn’t anything hostile, merely things like gluing all of
the markers to the metal tray of the white boards, setting staplers in Jell-O,
and at the very most they once set thousands of paper cups filled with rice all
throughout a classroom with the exception of a small walkway to the
instructor’s desk and seat. They were never linked to any of the stunts as each
of them was smart enough to keep their mouths shut and never claim
responsibility for any of the pranks to any of their peers. If they did say
anything they knew they’d be caught and getting away with it, without a word of
their infamy, was the whole point.

Nick
wished that he was with them, pulling another prank, like they used to. Instead
he crept toward the far back entrance to the one window in the entire school he
and his friends knew was loose. Jordan was usually the one who removed it from
the frame the contractors never properly fixed. Nick watched Jordan remove it a
few times and he thought he might be able to follow his example, but with his
shaky hands he wasn’t convinced.

Nick
pushed against the window pane with his hands and tried to use his fingers to
lift the glass, but since he’d been out in the rain for hours, his hands were
cold, wet, and wrinkled. His grip slipped, the pane fell, and the glass
shattered.