The First: EVO Uprising (2 page)

“
How much faster?” Admiral
James A. Murdock, Sr.
USN
, who is also Chief of
NORAD
, asked.
 

“
Minor wounds heal almost instantly,” Dr. Alexander replied. “Greater wounds we speculate may take a couple of minutes to an hour, maybe less, depending on the severity. Due to the age of the subjects we are unable to test the maximum limits of their healing capability. The blood samples we took determined them to be exceptionally greater than regular humans.”
 

“
Can you please review the types again?” General James N. Steiner of the
USMC
asked.
 

“
Through studies, we are able to categorize EVOs by types based on their abilities,” Dr. Alexander answered. “Prometheans are EVOs with superhuman intelligence and mental abilities such as telekinesis, mind reading, and telepathy. Mercurians are EVOs possessing great superhuman speed and reflexes, along with strength, durability, and regenerative healing. Moleculars or Elementals are EVOs capable of alternating their genetic properties. We identify these types as mutations because they do not fall within the power set of the Source. Next, are Apollos, EVOs capable of harnessing, manipulating, and unleashing certain types of energy such as solar, electrical, nuclear, hydro, and even sound. Finally, we have Titans, EVOs possessing tremendous amounts of superhuman strength, endurance, and durability along with regenerative healing. These are the basic classes of EVOs thus far; we expect, however, to find new classes as True EVOs begin to mature.”
 

“
Aside from physical traits, what other differences are there between True EVOs and the infected?” asked General Thomas Welsh, Chairman of the Joint of Staff.
 

“
Our comparison tests have revealed that currently True EVOs at the age of three and four years old are fifty percent equivalent ability-wise to most adult infected EVOs. Unlike the infected whose powers and abilities increase by honing or training,” the doctor pointed out, “True EVOs powers grow and develop with age. It is
estimated that there is no limit to a True EVO’s power levels. We won’t know until one reaches full maturity, but it is speculated that some of them could very well rival or surpass the Source.”
 

A great degree of uneasy rumbling and muttering came about the room as Dr. Alexander adjusted his glasses concluding his presentation.
 

“
We estimate that at the current rate of birth, over the next twenty years the purebred population will grow to 14,700… maybe even more,” the doctor finalized.
 

The mutters and rumblings became words. “Over fourteen thousand EVOs… with powers equal to the Source.” A great uneasiness filled the room as images of a possible dark and bleak future were imagined. A future where regular humans were knocked several notches down on the evolutionary ladder.
 

“
Isn’t there a way to detect a child with abilities before birth?” General
Norton B. Matthews
of the
USAF
asked.
 

 “
Currently no,” Dr. Alexander answered, “other than the obvious physical traits that can be seen within eight to nine months, such as increased muscle and bone density, some powers and abilities do not manifest until the child reaches one to two years.”
 

“
What about treatment… a cure?” General James N. Steiner of the
USMC
asked.
 

“
To put it bluntly, there is no cure,” Dr. Alexander returned. “At its current evolutionary state the gene is immune to any form of treatment administered to it. It is, for all intents and purposes, incurable.”
 

One could cut the uneasiness throughout the room with a knife as
Secretary
of Defense Robert Graves took control of the meeting once again following the end of the doctor’s presentation.
 

“
Gentlemen, due to the actions of one of our own,”
the
Secretary
of Defense sighed, “Pandora’s box has been opened and unleashed onto the world, and there’s no way we can close the lid. The latest in biological weapons are superhuman. Both our allies and our enemies are paying a fortune to enlist EVOs as super soldiers. It is like the NFL draft out there. In the past, the White House has refrained on allowing the recruitment of EVOs into the United States Military. Under the current Administration that order has rescinded. We can no longer afford to fall behind as a superpower, especially on this level.”
 

“
What about the current superhero activity going on in the country?” General
Norton B. Matthews
(
USAF
) asked. “It’s still reported that majority of EVOs reside in the United States.”
 

“
Reside yes,” Graves answered. “Acting under, and on behalf of this government, no, and that is what needs to change. The White House is not happy at all with what’s going on in the streets of this country. Many of these costume-wearing individuals have caused more harm than good both on the human and property damage level costing this country billions of dollars. A bill is currently being drafted to regulate superhuman activity. Vigilantism will no longer be tolerated in any state by powered or non-powered individuals.”
 

There was a clear divide in the room as some agreed with his statement, while others were not too thrilled with superhumans becoming a part of the staple of the United States Military. Graves’ face read that he didn’t care what either side thought.
 

“
Before that bill is introduced, it is imperative that an EVO division under the United States military is in place. Ready to aide in enforcing the laws of this land and defending both its borders and abroad if necessary,” Graves ordered. “To make this perfectly clear this new division will provide service and have authorization within all five branches of the United States military. This is not open for debate. Our Commander-in-Chief expects results within six months time; my office and staff will be
heading the review and recruiting process for this new division.”
 

“
Well, if you’re taking the reins on this Graves,” General Thomas Welsh scoffed, “what’s there for us to do?”
 

 “
Prepare your branches to happily receive and give them aide by any means necessary.” Graves smiled. “Let’s get it done, gentlemen.”  
 

˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

After the meeting, the Secretary of Defense walked the hallways of the Pentagon followed by Dr. Jason Alexander and his Executive Assistant, Michael Mendes.
 

“
How do you think that went, Mendes?” Graves nonchalantly asked.
 

“
I think it went as well as expected, sir,” Mendes answered.
 

“
Considering we didn’t have to use an ounce of lube, I think they took it very well,” Graves smiled.
 

Mendes sneered, comprehending the
Secretary
of Defense’s comment.
 

“
What is the ETA on viable candidates, Dr. Alexander?” Graves asked.
 

“
Screening takes place tomorrow,” answered the doctor. “We should have a list of candidates in the next three weeks.”
 

“
Make it two, please,” Graves requested. “The sooner we can get this three ring circus underway the better.”
 

Chapter 2

Nadiya Romanenko was sixteen years old. Two months away from her birthday, her world would end. Two years ago, she dreamt of becoming a veterinarian. In her hometown of Poltava, she brought home small, injured animals and cared for them.
 

Her mother passed away due to illness when she was six years old. For some time it would be just her and her father who loved her dearly. Every day he walked her to school and picked her up afterwards. On Fridays, he brought home honey cake for them to share after dinner. She was his Маленький ягня, which stood for “little lamb” in Ukrainian.
 

This simple life went on for four years until her father remarried the local butcher’s wife. The childless woman, who was a widow two years before him, was unable to
conceive by neither her former husband nor her father.  Behind her father’s back, she had nothing but contempt for Nadiya. Nadiya, thinking only of her father’s happiness after being so long without her mother, held her peace despite full knowledge of the woman’s hatred for her.  
 

She would not know that after three years of enduring, fate would take away her father when he intervened in a knife fight at a local bar.
 

No more honey cakes came after that night.
 

In their stead was verbal abuse and vicious beatings. No longer was she allowed to attend school. Instead, her stepmother rented her out as cheap labor cleaning houses and businesses from dawn to late evening just to keep a roof over her head and food in her belly.
 

For a while, she skimmed money from the pay she received in hopes of saving enough to run away, until her stepmother found out and almost beat her to death.

Four nights after the savage beating,  men came and ripped her from her bed screaming. Her last glimpse of the inside of her home was of her stepmother taking a sizable stack of cash from the man who would be her new owner.
 

Yuri Bondarchuk was a well-known dealer of narcotics and white slave prostitution. A sadist with the local police in his back pocket, he purposely sought out virgins so that he could hold auctions and sell them to the highest bidder. Age did not matter to him as long as he could get away with it. The Ukrainian government’s extremely laid-back position on the situation allowed him to get away with a lot.   
 

Yuri dashed away Nadiya’s dreams of becoming a veterinarian for grooming to become a sex slave. He forced her to take heroin between her toes to make her dependant, made her watch a girl two years older than her beaten to death with a lead pipe by Yuri himself to
instill fear. Her virginity would go to the highest bidder, not to her boyfriend or husband, on her wedding day. Afterwards she would be raped repeatedly, every day for the remainder of her life, or until she died from a drug overdose, disease, or at the hands of Yuri.
 

Nadiya sat curled up on her bed in the middle of her cell like room wearing a worn out cheap school girls outfit two sizes smaller than anything she had ever worn. She wept for a father who would never come. The cheers and howls outside meant the auction was over. The man coming to take her would be in her room soon. She tried to pull herself together remembering the warning from Yuri and the other girls if she did not perform as expected.
 

She wished Yuri had doped her up before casting her into hell, but he wanted the client to have the entire virgin experience. To not only feel, but see, the agonizing pain and tears as he ruined her with each thrust. She quickly wiped her eyes and sat up on the bed at the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer. Her first night in the house, Yuri told her to pray to her hearts content because there was no God. No one was coming for a little whore. She continued to pray, nonetheless, begging God to save her, for salvation from this horrific fate. She never stopped until her first John walked through the door. She did not know what revolted her more, that he could be her grandfather, or that he still had his wedding ring on. He stumbled over to her still in his construction work clothes, the stench of booze rained down on her as he towered over her. It got worse as he cupped his filthy callous ridden hand around her face forcing her to her feet.
 

“
Pretty face…” he grinned.
 

He grabbed her up cupping and squeezing her rear under her skirt while doing the same with her left breast. She squirmed fighting to keep her tears from falling again. It felt like he was trying to crush her chest in his bare hand.

“
Firm ass… nice tits… but are you as tight as I paid for?” he dryly asked.
 

Nadiya squealed, standing on the tips of her toes as she felt two of his filthy unmanicured fingers making its way in between her panties and inside of her. It felt as if he was stabbing her. She violently trembled, wishing for death. What she got instead was his liquor-stained tongue with bile forced down her throat. Her stomach turned, and she wanted to puke. She kept it down remembering what Yuri promised to do to her if the customer was not satisfied.
 

He grabbed the back of her blonde mane as he displayed a near toothless grin; it felt as if he was going to rip it out by the root.

 “
I paid good money to break you into a whore tonight, bitch,” he sneered, “and I’m going to fill every one of your holes… starting with your pretty little mouth.”
 

The next thing she heard was the unbuckling of a belt, the sound of a zipper opening, and his pants falling to the floor. With the pull of her hair, he slowly forced her down on her knees. The stench was worse than what was coming from his mouth.  
 

“
There you go… and if I feel teeth… I will knock them out of your mouth,” he growled.
 

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth moving closer to end.