Dark Creations: The Hunted (Part 4) (15 page)

Once the information he sought had been obtained and a printout had been produced, he assumed the task of wiping her belly clean then preparing her urinary catheter.  The insertion was painful, that much he knew, yet as he introduced it into her urethra, she did not wince or move.  She trained her eyes on his with concentrated intensity.  He was convinced she watched him to learn, in her last days of life, of true greatness,
his
greatness.  She was astounding, a testament to the handful of humans that remained open to genius.  He found it a pity those few would perish eventually, almost.  But they were inevitable casualties, damages in his plan.  Those who contributed to its success, such as Dawn, would not be overlooked.  They would be mentioned in his notes, notes that would someday serve as empirical evidence of his brilliance, his ultimate gift to the world.  Dawn was a brave participant in the fulfillment of his gift reaching the masses.  He would treat her accordingly.  She was not a sniveling specimen pleading for her life and the life of her unborn like others before her had been.  She was much more.  He considered this as he carefully placed a pulse oximeter on the tip of her forefinger to monitor the oxygenation level of her hemoglobin and then affixed electrocardiogram electrodes to her chest to measure the rate and regularity of her heartbeats.  Next, he ran an intravenous line into her arm so that sedation could occur instantaneously if necessary.  Lastly, she was hooked to a maternal and fetal monitoring system that provided him with fetal feedback that would be sent directly to his computer beyond the confines of her glass walls.  This enabled him to record her uterine activity, but more importantly, the fetus’s vital signs.  Her statistics, as well as that of her fetus, would be closely monitored by him personally. 

“Dawn, this equipment is being used to so that I may examine all of your vital signs and your fetus’s as we begin experimenting.”

He saw the flicker again.  And she spoke.

“Experiment?  Experiment on me,” she asked.

To date, no other subject had ever asked questions of him, just begged for pardon.  She clearly possessed interest in her circumstances.  He found her natural curiosity inspirational.  He decided in that moment to tell her of his plans for her, for the world.

“I will be experimenting on your fetus,” he began and was satisfied when he saw yet another spark in her eye, even detected the slightest arch of her eyebrow.  “What I will do is introduce augmented amniotic fluid into your uterus.  This fluid has been in use in my lab for several years.  Its purpose is to sustain the alteration I will make to fetal tissue.  The result, if successful, will be the birth of a child impervious to genetic defect or abnormalities, invulnerable to disease and utterly unreceptive to unappealing dispositions and habits.  I have to admit, I have not had much success thus far.  We have had to dispose of several specimens.  Nevertheless, I will inject a potent blend of a virus I’ve created that will attack the limbic system of the brain, which is of course, the emotional headquarters of the human brain.  The virus will essentially disconnect the part of the brain responsible for emotion, and heighten activity and development in a more useful part of the brain, more specifically, the frontal lobe.  The end result will be a person free of emotional connection who is able to engage parts of his mind once considered impossible.   Higher cognitive function devoid of sentiment will generate decision making based on reason as opposed to feeling.  The world will be transformed by these decisions, bettered by them.”

He looked directly at Dawn and saw that transformation had already occurred.  His words had changed the spark he detected in her eyes, to a glowing blaze.  Her focus on him, her concentration, was commendable.  She flattered him, wordlessly, as no acclaim he’d ever received had.  Her silent reverence trumped any award or congressional mention.  She
understood
him.  Her understanding evoked a sensation in him similar to joy.  He could not remember the last time he had experienced joy in the company of another that was not his handiwork.  Dawn.  Even her name was significant.  It denoted the beginning of something, and in this case, the advent of a period in time in history.  Dawn would martyr herself, be depicted in textbooks of future generations in all her glory, haloed in hair the color of sunshine, rising from the darkness of a defunct humanity as the first ray of light. 

Dr. Franklin Terzini felt the corners of his mouth begin to tug and twist into the faintest of smiles.  Dawn, perceptive and valiant, intensified her gaze, allowed the blaze to rage on, admiration etched in each of her exquisite features.  He was giving her so much of himself.  And she appreciated it.

“Dawn Downing, your sacrifice will be remembered.  That is my promise to you,” he said to her.

Her eyes thanked him with their burn.  He stood slowly, satisfied, and gathered his equipment.  He could feel her eyes on him, would have blushed if he’d had the propensity to do so.  Her adoration overwhelmed him.  He glanced back at her as he was about to step in front of the motion-activated glass door and whispered her name.  “Dawn,” he said, but she did not hear.  The sound was stolen by the soft whooshing of the door sliding back, drowned by the hum and buzz of countless pieces of equipment in his laboratory. 

As the door shut behind him, he turned again and, as he’d suspected, hoped, saw that her eyes had never left him.

“Dawn Downing,” he said aloud.

***

Dawn Downing lay, secured to a hospital gurney utterly paralyzed by fear, in a facility that was foreign to her.  Police officers had taken her from her home in the predawn hours of her husband’s return from war.  And now, a madman determined to experiment on her and her unborn child had become convinced that she was a disciple of his delusions.   She had tried desperately to ignore his words, to draw inward as far as her mind would permit, to protect herself from mentally breaking rather than plotting escape.  Her efforts had been mistaken for interest.  In fact, he seemed to think she was pleased to participate in his trial, to sacrifice herself and unborn child.  He seemed to misinterpret her horrified stare as consent, as approval.  He had puffed out his chest as her eyes widened, terrified at his plans, both current and future.  She wondered whether he was insane enough to believe she actually
agreed
with his aspirations.  The shreds of logic that remained anchored to her mind countered that surely, no one could be crazy enough to believe that.   Regardless of his mental health, however, she needed to free herself, somehow.  He had made plain his treatment of failed experiments, how many specimens had been disposed of. 

Disposed of!
 
Specimens!
She thought.  He had no regard for human life whatsoever, viewed her as nothing more than a lab rat.  Her heart began to race.  She heard the beeping accelerate on the monitor to her side.  Electrodes affixed to her chest were divulging her emotional state.  He would be alerted to such fluctuations.  She did not want him to return, and share more with her.  She breathed slowly to calm her storming heart rate.  She needed to continue to let him believe his delusions; that she was interested in what he was doing to her. She pictured her husband’s face, imagined a future with him, with their child.  Little by little, the beeping decelerated.  Thoughts of Jack, and the child she had not yet named, succeeded at calming her heartbeat, but they did not inspire ideas, they did not help her formulate an escape.

A trio of low-pitched beeps startled her.  She turned her head instinctively in the direction of the sound.  She did not see any of the equipment lighting up or changing, but she began to feel a cold sensation in her arm, as if ice water had been injected into her veins.  The icy feeling traveled up the length of her arm and spread across her chest to her other arm, then down her torso to her legs.  The room began to spin slowly at first, then faster and faster, until it became necessary that she squeeze her eyes shut to fend off the growing dizziness.  She heard a voice, muffled, in the distance.  She opened her eyes briefly and saw a man’s face inches from hers.  Dr. Terzini loomed over her and spoke inaudibly, words she was certain held significance, and then silence.  Darkness, deep and velvet, enveloped her wholly. 

Gabriel stared at the long list of names logged in the dead police officer’s notebook computer, struggling to wrap his mind around what had just transpired.  Two were dead.  Both bore characteristics limited to Terzini’s creations.  He knew that they were designed to eventually destroy humans; that they existed to serve their maker and eventually carry out his own execution.  But they looked no different from any other human being. They bled.  They fought to survive when confronted with death.  Externally, they appeared exactly the same as all others, walked and talked the same, behaved accordingly.  To the untrained eye, they were ordinary people blessed with extraordinary attractiveness.  And thanks to innumerable retouched celebrity images that flooded all forms of media, their looks, though better than the best looking Hollywood had to offer, did not generate a stir.  The two that lay dead near him blended so well, in fact, they held positions of authority; they protected and served the community.

Despite their assimilation skills and seemingly conventional lives, they lacked the very essence that typified those around them.  They lacked sentiment.  They were created devoid of emotion.  Gabriel reminded himself of that detail each time their lifeless forms entered his peripheral vision.  Still, their origins were no different from his.  Feeling had unexpectedly evolved within him.  What Terzini deemed a flaw was what separated him from the other creations.  His hands shook so hard, he fought to steady them long enough to manipulate the touchpad and scroll down the list.  Jack startled him by asking a question he was not fully prepared to answer

“How did he know your name?” Jack asked.

Gabriel did not respond right away.

“That cop, how could he possibly know who you are?” Jack
probed and tilted his head to one side, and appeared to search Gabriel’s face for clues.

Gabriel would not tell him the entire truth, that he had been created as the prototype of the future of humankind.  Instead, he would only offer part of the truth.

“I used to work for Terzini, until I realized what it was he wanted to do.  He wants me dead, and all of his creations know who I am.”

He answered Jack as honestly as he could.  And Jack did not ask any more questions.  He simply stared at Gabriel intensely, as if evaluating the validity of his every word.  He did not look away until whatever lie-detection standards he adhered to in his mind had been satisfied.  Gabriel was, in fact, telling the truth, just not all of it.  When Jack finally looked away, Gabriel felt a degree of relief.  He did not want to pursue the conversation further.  He did not think that divulging everything about him, about his creation, would help matters.  To the contrary, he believed Jack would likely turn on him if he knew Gabriel was created as the others had been.  His insides trilled nervously along with his hands.  He balled his fists for a moment and squeezed tightly to stop them from trembling. When he was finally able to calm them marginally, he was able to read the next two names to Jack, as well as their addresses.

“Wait, those houses are less than three blocks from one another,” Jack said.  “We could split up and check them out.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Gabriel said warily.  “We don’t even know if this list is Terzini’s creations or potential victims.”

“My wife could be at any one of these places, or someone there could know where she is!  I need your help.  We have to go to as many of these addresses as possible to find her.  We don’t have time to waste.  I’ll go to this one,” he pointed to the third address on the list.  It’s about fifteen minutes from here.  These other two are a couple of blocks from here and about a mile apart from each other.  Do you have GPS?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then you won’t get lost or anything.  You have a cellphone with you?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s exchange numbers so we can keep in contact.  If you come across anything you think is suspicious, and I mean
anything
, don’t hesitate to call, okay?”

“Okay,” Gabriel agreed and then rattled off his cellular-phone number to Jack.  Once his number was in Jack’s phone and Jack’s in his, they agreed it was time to leave.

Jack began walking toward the front door.  Gabriel followed and took the laptop with him.  He stepped over the threshold and out into the afternoon sun.  The brilliance of the day was a sharp contrast to the darkness he’d just left.  Gabriel squinted and listened, expecting to hear the wailing of police cruisers responding to complaints of shots being fired, Jack’s shots.  To his surprise, all was quiet.  The street was deserted save for the rental car Melissa drove.  No one milled about on the sidewalk or puttered around in their garage or driveway.  The few houses that surrounded the officer’s house were set on generous lots of land far from one another, and far from them.  Sidewalks seemed unnecessary given the substantial distance between houses in addition to the fact that most houses were situated farther back from the street than was common. 

But considering the necessity of sidewalks was a sidetrack really, a digression from the task at hand, which was going to the address listed to investigate.  He would look for telltale indicators of Terzini’s handiwork, for physical perfection, or, pregnancy in the household.  If a woman were pregnant, she was in danger.  If not, he was in danger.  And he was fairly certain, he would not be the only person endangered.  He guessed Melissa would argue with him and reason that she was no safer without him than she was with him, that she ought to go with him.  She would be right.  He did not like the thought of putting her in close proximity to more monsters, but at least he would be there to protect her. 

“Go tell your friends we’re splitting up.  If anything happens, call me.”

“Right,” Gabriel agreed then watched as Jack climbed in his truck and drove off.

He jogged to Melissa who was parked behind Jack. She saw him and immediately lowered the window.

“Gabriel!  What happened in there?” Melissa asked.

“We heard shots,” Yoshi added.

“I can’t even tell you what went through my mind,” Melissa said softly.

Her eyes were red rimmed, as if she’d been crying.  His throat constricted at the sight. 

“Where’s Jack going?” Yoshi asked.

“He’s going to an address we found on one of the cop’s computer,” Gabriel replied.

“List? Computer?  What are you talking about?” Melissa asked.

“The cops inside, they are, I mean
were
the ones who took Jack’s wife.  They were Terzini’s work, creations.  After they were dealt with, I searched the house and found a laptop with a file that had dozens of names in it.  I don’t know whether the people on this list are more of his creations or pregnant women he intends to target.  Either way, Jack is checking it out.  And I am too.”

“What?” Melissa breathed.

“We came here to find Terzini and end this.  I am going to help Jack find his wife.  She’s out there and Terzini has her.  And she might not have much time left.”

A hush befell the car, as if everyone were considering his or her next move.  Though they had all agreed to come, to help him find and finish Terzini, and though he could not expect them to honor the dangerous promise they’d made him, he secretly hoped they would.

“You’re not going alone,” Melissa said first.

“Is there any way I can persuade you not to come, to go back with Yoshi and Alex?”