The Fledge Effect (6 page)

“How else would you describe it? This
is meant to be incurable. It invades a body, thus
allowing them to be cured of their, annoyingly,
basic human needs.”
He shook his head. “I can’t be a part of
this. I just can’t. This is immoral, and not to
mention
, illegal
!”
She sidestepped in front of him, blocking the only exit. “What is so illegal about curing
and preventing terminal illnesses?”
“Let me leave, Jane!”
“It’s
Agent Brinks
. And if you walk out
that door, I have twenty more agents standing
by, ready to shoot anyone who is aware of this
information.”
He gulped, angered.
“Well?” she pressed. “It’s your choice.
Leave here, you die. Stay, and, just maybe, I’ll
let you live.”
All he could think about was his daughter. Her fragile state held strong, but not steady
enough to wait any more time than he already
has.
Katie needs me
. He nodded. “Fine.”
“Good,” she said, and then cleared her
throat.
She took her place back into her chair, flipping
through more papers. She sat with such prose,
as if she were all mighty. In her mind, that is
how she viewed herself. Compared to Carlson,
anyhow.
She raised her eyes towards him, blinking. “Sit. These papers aren’t going to finish on
their own.”
He obeyed, realizing what she meant
when she had said, ‘
Don’t get too involved in
this job.’
“You’re a crazy bitch,” he said in a lowered tone.
“And you’re a dumb nobody,” she said
without looking up.
•••
Christine had woken up early that same morning. She was tending to Katie all morning. Katie
kept coughing up, and sputtering blood all over
her sheets. Christine would rock her, calming
her. She would sing to Katie, a lullaby. But Katie
began getting restless with boredom.
“Mom, when can I go back to school? I miss my
friends.” Her big brown eyes glistened in the
morning sun.
Christine quietly said, “Soon, sweetie. I
hope, very soon.” She knew the likelihood of it
not happening. But, discouraging her daughter,
she felt, would only worsen her health.
She
needs to have hope. That is the only way she
will survive
, she thought.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Will you brush my hair?”
Christine nodded. “Sure.”
She reached for Katie’s hairbrush as
Katie sat up in her bed. She began stroking her
long and brown hair with the soft bristles. As
she sang a tune, Katie joined in.
Her hair began falling out in clumps between her fingers. Her eyes got wide, and her
hands shook. She dropped the brush on the bed.
In a desperate attempt to fix the new bald spot,
she patted down Katie’s hair. But as she attempted to use Katie’s remaining hair, it fell out
as well.
Katie, confused turned her head to her
mother’s speechless expression. “Why did you
stop?”
She peered down at her mother’s trembling hands. She shrieked in terror at the sight.
“My hair! Mom?”
Christine struggled to find the right
words. She knew it wasn’t her fault. There
wasn’t anything she could do to fix it. “I-I’m
so…ry.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Through
the watery gaze, she watched as Katie carefully
ran her fingers through her hair. It continued to
fall out of place, making Katie sob uncontrollably. “M-mommy. H-help me. M-make it stop!”
Christine backed away. Shock ran
through her, making her numb to the core with
depression. She didn’t know what else to do. Or
if anything, she does could help. However, leaving her daughter alone made her only feel
worse. She was scared. Ashamed at herself for
not being a better mother.
She crouched in the kitchen, leaning
her back against the stove. She buried her face
in her knees, muffling her pleas. “God! Please,
no! She is my baby girl, my only baby. Please!
Help her! Take my life, not hers.”
She felt helpless in her prayers. Shivering from an overreaction of nerves, she listened
to the winds from outside.
The leaves are dying,
and within their place grows a new life
, she
thought. Strangely,
this
gave her hope that
someday, Katie will not change, but a new life
will be given to her. One that cannot be taken
away, or end like this.
At least let her have a
new life
, she wished.

Nick’s eyes gloomed over as they darted
towards the black clock beside his bed. He realized the time, wondering how it could be so late
in the morning. Confusion pounded within his
head, as he attempted to count the number of
drinks he had the night before. He rubbed his
tiresome eyes, fighting the urge to plop back
down into his bed.

Flashes of the night before played inside his head like a movie. His eyes shot open,
feeling his heart race against his chest. He
groped his neck, checking his fingers for any
signs of crimson streaks. His skin, soft to the
touch, calmed his rapid breathing.

A strange, yet familiar, perfume caught
his nose. “Jasmine
,
” he whispered.
Seconds later a light tap sounded on his
door. He paused from lifting out of bed, and listened as the tap echoed inside his ears once
more. He wrapped his blanket around his waist,
rubbing his temples.
Stop knocking!
A woman’s voice muffled through the
apartment door. “Nick, are you up? I think we
need to talk about last night.”
“Ah, fuck. Lucy,” he mumbled to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to talk
to her about their brawl they had after work. He
tried everything to forget it.
Lucy helped herself in. “Hey, did you
know your door was unlocked?”
Before he could answer, she intruded
into his bedroom. He said, “You could have
waited for me to let you in.”
“Sorry,” she said while shrugging her
shoulders.
“What do you want?”
She sighed, pacing his room. She
opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. She
bent over to his floor retrieving a pink cap. Her
eyes narrowed. “You’re using again, aren’t you?”
He wiped his face with his palm. “What
the hell are you talking about?”
“There is a cap to a needle in your
room.”
“WH-what? No. I’m not using. Haven’t
for six months!”
“Then explain this.” The cap was
pinched tight between her index finger and
thumb.
“I-I,” his mind trailed off remembering
a needle being stabbed down towards his attacker.
I thought it was just a dream.
“Look, I
can explain that!”
“Save it, Nick. I am glad I dumped your
sorry ass. Now I see why your own wife left you.”
She twirled around, leaving his room.
Nick flew out of bed, placing his hand
on her shoulder. “I didn’t use drugs until she left
me. Now, will you please just let me freaking explain it?”
“No.” Her voice, cold as winter, tipped
something fierce inside him.
The fiery rage consumed his every muscle, pulsated with blasts of what he called
burning embers.
He tightened his grip on her shoulder.
She winced. “Ouch! Let me go.”
He growled, ignoring her request.
“Your eyes! What’s wrong with them?”
He growled once more and bellowed.
“Quit judging me!”
Within an urging split second, his teeth
sunk deep into her neck. He held a fistful of hair,
bending her head back. She shoved him away,
wailing in pain, as she lost a chunk of her hair,
and headed for the door. He sidestepped in
front of her, blocking her path. He pulled her by
the arm, flinging her across the living room.
Lucy’s head bounced off the corner of the small
table, making a cracking noise at the impact.
Blood pooled from her ears as her unconscious body lied limp across the now blood-
stained white carpet. Without hesitation he
knelt by her side. Angered by her, he continued
to devour her throat until nothing was left but a
few flaps of skin barely covering any bone.
A cooling sensation shot through his
veins, making his sight become less blurred. His
hands shook after he gazed down at Lucy’s lifeless body. Her head spun across the room. “Oh
God! What did I do?”
He quivered, running into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut, clasping the
sides of his head.
“What the hell?” he yelled at himself.
Nick dropped on the floor, hitting his
head against the wooden frame. His eyes glazed
up towards the reflective glass.
Mirror. My
eyes.
He grunted, wanting to know what she
meant. In a frenzy, he jumped up and grabbed
his plunger. Using the wooden tip, he stabbed
the mirror with his eyes closed tight.
I don’t
want to see it! I am no longer the monster everyone hates.
The glass shattered in many pieces. The
shards clinked against the gut of his porcelain
sink. With each thrust, he grunted. His
strength, causing him to knock the surrounding
frame, made the handle stab through the wall
like butter. Pieces of drywall broke free, leaving
a dusty trail around the knobs of his faucet.
The sight created an invisible itch beneath his skin. An itch, he fights every day. Yet,
he discovered something more fulfilling than
any drug had ever made him feel; blood. Desperate for more, he clung to a glass shard as he
once clung to a needle. He brought the jagged
edge to his exposed forearm, pressing down in
haste. His skin flexed, shattering it in even
smaller chunks of mirror.
After he slammed his fists down against
the edge of the sink, he fixed his eyes amongst
the reflective pieces of glass. They were ice blue,
tinted like gunmetal, with a gold ring illuminating around the pupil. He rubbed his face, taking
slow and paced deep breaths. Looking again,
they returned to their mossy green appearance,
and he said, “Whoa!”
In his attempt to contemplate what was
happening to him, the sound squeak of footsteps neared his bathroom door. “What do you
want?” Nick snapped, listening for any response. He looked down at his naked skin.
“
Nick
? You’re alive?” Emily’s voice
broke when she continued, “H-How? Come oout… Now!”
“Get out of here. You, especially, need
to go somewhere safer than here!” he said, placing a black, silk, robe around his exposed skin.
Marcel tapped her shoulder and said,
“Let me talk to him.”
“Emily? Did you bring someone with
you?”
“Uh, yes, it’s Doctor Johnston. He came
with me… We may be able to help, but only if
you are willing.”
Nick scoffed. “
Help
? Did you not see
what I
did
? What I have
done
?”
Marcel pointed around the room. “Not
a pleasant choice for decorations, eh?” but, his
chuckle was cut short as he realized no one
joined in with the flat humor Emily knew him to
have.
Breaking the silence, Emily reminded
him about when she once found this to be a normal day for her. But he remained trapped inside
the bathroom on his own accord. “Nick, you forget I was a homicide detective. It is nothing I
have not seen before.”
He nodded, remembering the restless
nights he had waiting for her to come home
every night. Until one night, she didn’t show.
Worrying him sick with thoughts of her being
killed in the dead of the night only to wake up to
a voicemail of her saying she was leaving him
for her collaborate, Hank.
That was six years
ago… six, long and excruciating years ago.
He opened the door with hesitation.
Emily sighed with relief. “I thought you were
dead,” she assumed.
“Me too.”
“I’d hug you, but,” her eyes bore into
him, “I don’t want to get eaten.”
“I wouldn’t hug you anyways.”
His words sliced through the air like a
knife in her heart. She bit the inside of her
cheek. She knew he was right to say that. But,
she also knew exactly how it made her feel. She
nodded, forcing a smile against her painstricken face.
He turned his attention to Marcel. “So,
Doctor Johnston. You can help me?”
Marcel nodded. “It’s a possibility.”
“We’re wasting time. There is no telling
what can happen. Let’s go.” Nick rushed out of
the door, pushing them along in front of him.
•••
On the outskirts of town, near Crystal Lake,
more experiments were being held inside a
metal building. Brinks designed it as a lab, on
the inside. Without her knowing, Myers stuck
around Middletown. He liked to keep a close eye
on her, and the experiments being conducted
by, rather, three sketchy people. He only knew
what was given to him in the open folder that
laid across his table.
Rachel was the brains; she had almost
gotten away with murder. David was the negotiator; wanted by three loan sharks, and trades
addictions like Collector’s Cards. And, lastly,
George. He was the brawny member. With the
most military training, he provided an excellent
source of security. He also made it easier to abduct people for the experiments.
Myers favored George over the other
two.
Myers closed his folder on the three.
The research completed, on them, was vague,
but enough to let him know if they could be
trusted. They were professional liars, yet their
location and identities could easily be hung over
their heads as a sort of
blackmail
. He decided to
make a visit to them.
He threw down his tab, chugged his last
bit of black coffee, and left the diner.
The smell of the lake breezed in through
his car door window. He rolled it up scrunching
his nose is disgust. “If I wanted to smell fish, I’d
go fishing, using a body as bait.”
He hated the location Brinks chose for
this undercover lab. But, he understood it was
best for disposing certain, unwanted,
things
.
He opened the door to the metal building. He expected them to be lounging around,
knowing not everyone works as he does. Obsessively. They were standing, working on something other than what they were signed on for.
“What the hell are you three, nitwits,
doing?” His voice barreled throughout the
building without warning.
They jumped, dropping different
masks. David approached him. “Well, we, uh,
think our identities would be better protected if
we had a guise of some sort. We all agreed on
black outfits.”
Myers grunted. “Get the hell back to
work! Or your heads will be mine.” The little
vein, on the side of his neck, throbbed when he
spoke.
“Come on guys,” George agreed.
They scattered like rats, returning to
their stations. Myers walked behind each of
them. He never bothered with trying to understand any of their equipment. However, the
monitors were off, and they were forced to document everything by hand. “I want those papers
emailed to me,” he said to Rachel.
She scoffed at his command. “That
would be fine, but,” she paused as he leered at
her. She continued, glaring back at him, “the
power is out.”
He raised his chin to the ceiling.
Strands of wires, coming from a window, led to
the two-drop lights slightly illuminating the
place. He cleared his throat in a short whip of a
cough. “Fix it, then.”
She giggled sarcastically. “Gee, why
didn’t I think about that before? Duh!”
“Get to the point,” he said. A heavy gruff
sounded in his voice as his short fuse ran even
shorter.
“Well, it costs a little of this,” she
rubbed two fingers together, “in order to pay
bills around here.”
He squared his shoulders, straightening his tie.
They are so fucking needy
, he
thought. “Fine. I’ll pay the bills, and you guys
stay here. No one leaves.”
Before he walked out the door, David
stopped him. “Can you bring us some food
then? We are starving here. And after we have
been feeding the fish here… No
thank you
.”
He paused, keeping his back to them.
He grunted under his breath, heaving out a frustrated sigh. He didn’t respond to David’s needs,
however. He left, contemplating whether they
deserve
to be fed.
Playing dress-up for an entire workday does not constitute the right for anything
good to eat. So, Chinese it is
, he thought. He
pushed the door open, locking it behind him as
he left.
The click rang in George’s ears. It made him
wince. The sound reminded him of a loaded gun
cocking back.
“George,” Rachel leaned towards him,
“why doesn’t he ever get snippy with you?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know.
Maybe because I follow orders, better than you
two.”
“So, what? You are better than us?”
“No, that is not what I am saying,” he
breathed out through his nose. “I’m just saying,
follow orders and he will leave you alone.”
“
Teacher’s pet
,” David said.
George barely heard what he had said.
“What did you say?”
“Uh, um. I want to make a bet,” he nodded, scratching his ear.
George shook his head. “What’s new?”
he asked rhetorically.
A little over thirty minutes had passed,
and their monitors clicked, turning on.
An email, on all three, popped up. It
was from Agent Myers. It read the details on
who should be their next victim. However, he
specifically said to
not kill her, only harvest her
reproductive system
. And to use a
healing compound
, named C3KO. Not found, but created. In
his email, it described that the compound only
works in frigid water, and for any broken bones,
they had to be encased in ice.
After they printed his email, he came in.
“Good, you got it,” he said as he threw
down their food on a random table.
“Who is she to you?” David felt she
looked familiar. “She live here?”
“No one,” he shrugged, “just a random
person that was next on the list.”
“Yeah, that’s not problem though, bud.
She is the
only
one you told us to not kill.”
Rachel agreed. “Yeah, and not to mention, the only one you told us to use a healing
compound on. It is rare. We don’t know how to
make more.”
“Are you out?”
“No, I’m just saying that our limited
supplies won’t allow us to recreate more once
it’s gone. We have enough to last the four of us,
for maybe a year.”
“You’ll be fine,” he said, eyeing her
closely. “Just go to the hospital like a normal
person.”
“Why can’t we just drop her off at a hospital instead?” Rachel scoffed.
“Because,” he hollered. He lowered his
voice. “Do as I say. Is that simple enough for you
to understand?”
She nodded. “Yes,
Agent
Myers.”
“Lose the attitude.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes boss, anything
else,
boss
?”
He cocked his gun behind her head. “I
should shoot you right now.”
“Oh, now isn’t that kinky?” Rachel remained un-flinched. “You threaten to do it, at
least every time you are here. If you were going
to do it, you would have done it the first time,”
she said, typing her handwritten notes onto the
computer.
He placed the gun back into his holster.
“Office, now!”
“Okay,” she said, pushing away from
the desk. She changed her tone to a schoolgirls’
voice, “
I’ve been a bad girl, and I wonder what
the principle would do to me. Oh, I hope he
spanks me instead of giving me detention
.”