The Kruskal Count was a strange property where written text is taken, one of the first ten words is picked and the following words are counted by how many letters were in the word picked. From there the letters in the word that is landed on would be counted, and the process repeats until a word is landed on that won’t allow for anymore counting without going over the word count. No matter what word is used to start the same word will always be the end.
He felt thankful for all the ridiculous math assignments his father made him work on. Jonathan decided to start with the first word in the quote. Counting 2 words from “in” he landed on “struggle”. Eight more words put him at “the”. Three more words to “their”, “in”, and finally “themselves”. He couldn’t go any further, so he decided that this would have to be the password. Hitting enter after typing it in he found relief when the screen flashed and brought up the desktop.
There were only a few programs and folders on the desktop. Solitaire was pinned to the taskbar along the bottom leaving Jonathan to believe his father played it quite a bit and wanted quick access to it. He was able to locate a series of journals written in Microsoft Word that Jonathan found to be more shocking as he read on. Many emotions rushed through his body as he continued to read and piece together the story of what had happened. Filled with rage and disbelief, Jonathan continued to read about the events that led up to the attack.
The warm sun sank into the earth miles away. The dead roamed the streets without meaning or purpose. Although death was a release from the horrors of what had happened, pain still lingered on their faces, and sorrow settled into their gray eyes. Perhaps there was still a trace of the people that once inhabited the bodies of these monsters. Perhaps their last moments alive were just so cruel that their bodies will carry that forever.
The man watching these monsters had remained alert for several days. The gunshot sounded like it came from the hills just across town. A single shot that sounded like an explosion rocked the town, perhaps a signal to any survivors. This man wasn’t sure what is was, but he wasn’t going to let a chance of escaping this hell slip by again.
Chapter 3
Piecing the story together from the journals stored on his father’s computer, Jonathan found what he discovered to be disturbing. After digging further into the computer’s files he also was able to uncover a series of security footage that his father must have downloaded before leaving from work the day of the attack. Combining the journals and security footage Jonathan had his explanation:
“Just the other day Greg came in rather hurriedly,” Brian writes in the journal, and this was confirmed in the security footage. “He was pushing a cart with a blanket draped over it. Greg would not speak to any of us that day, so the rest of us went about the work we were doing. This was odd behavior for Greg, as the head of research for our floor he was always right there with us as we worked.
“This lasted for the 2 days following. Finally I found myself in his office staring into the face of this disheveled man. Greg looked as though he had not eaten or even slept in days. I was worried for the welfare of my good friend, and wanted nothing more than to help him through this tough time.”
“You’re my most trusted colleague, Brian,” Greg stated. Standing just under five-and-a-half feet tall, Greg looked up at the much taller Brian with the look of a man who is about to succumb to defeat. Greg was thin with light brown hair, thin eyebrows, and a soft friendly voice. It was obvious he hadn’t shaved in several days. He was the type of person to be consumed by his work, spending days at a time in the lab with little sleep. “I’ve done something terrible, and I need help fixing it.” The man looked on the verge of dropping to his knees and pleading.
“You know I will gladly help you in any way possible. Just let me know what you need.”
“Follow me. This is top secret Brian. Can you promise not to say a word to anyone?” Greg asked in an awkward grumble as they stepped out into the hall.
“Of course, I am honored to have your trust, Greg. Either way I cannot speak of anything that goes on here with anyone else, being bound by contract and all,” Brian responded wittily.
This must be serious
, Brian thought. He believed the smile on the man’s face appeared to be a little too fake.
Greg was usually very laid back, but Brian could sense the tension in his friend. They moved through the hallway of the fifth floor passing several other researchers who all gave a warm friendly smile as they walked by. The long white hallway ran down the center of the floor with doors and openings on either side. Fluorescent lights were the only light source on the floor. None of the individual research areas had windows to the outside. This was to protect the secrets that reside on this floor.
Lab eight was a rather large laboratory located two doors from the end of the hall on the left side. Greg slid his badge over the ID reader, and the red light blinked out to be replaced by a green light. The labs were not normally locked, as the researchers on this floor usually worked closely together. Brian had been in this room many times since his promotion, so he wasn’t surprised to see the walls lined with stainless steel shelves holding vials and jars filled with liquids and solids of varying shapes and colors. Instruments and tools were hung neatly in their respective places. All the labs looked fairly similar for the most part.
Walking into Lab eight Brian could see the stainless steel table that sat toward the back of the room on a raised section of the floor. The brightly lit room smelled strongly of embalming fluid, and the temperature felt very close to freezing. He knew each lab had its own climate control, but he had no idea that they could reach such a low temperature.
“Grab a climate suit off the rack. I have the temperature set just below four degrees centigrade,” Greg politely ordered as he donned his own climate suit and led the way into the lab.
Brian followed Greg as they walked up the ramp to the raised platform. The figure on the table took his breath away. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“What is going on here?” he asked in a demanding voice. “Is this either ethical or legal?”
Brian looked down at the child lying on the table. The child’s fingers tightened and relaxed as if grabbing for something that wasn’t there. There was twitching in his legs and arms, and his head rocked back and forth. Part of the skull showed through on the right side of his forehead. The blood had been cleaned up, yet the wound had not healed at all. There were similar scrapes and gashes visible on other parts of his body.
The boy’s skin was blue-gray in color, and aside from the wounds there was massive bruising in multiple spots. A small cloth covered the area from his lower abdomen to just above his knees. The wounds were still open but had stopped bleeding. Brian’s first instinct was to check for a pulse, but he was shocked by how cold the boy’s body was. Brian knew that at this temperature the heart could beat so slowly it wouldn’t be palpable anyways.
“The subject is roughly 50 inches tall, weighing about 54 pounds.” Greg could sense Brian’s displeasure. “I assure you the boy is not alive Brian. I know how this must seem, and I feel terrible for the tragic loss of his life.” The melancholy could be heard in Greg’s voice as he spoke. “The boy died a few days ago. He was hit by a car and his body was donated to our research.”
“Can a child’s body be donated for research?” Brian asked with shock. Even as a scientist he would want his child to rest peacefully.
“Oh I’m sure they can be. Besides, this body was donated by the parents. Both of which want him to be able to help the world,” he added quickly looking into Brian’s face.
Brian thought he caught a glimpse of that fake smile yet again, and he felt his friend wasn’t being completely honest. He chose to ignore these instincts, however. There was a feeling that it was all in his head, and that he was letting his emotions take control of his senses. Brian’s attention was drawn back to the child as his cold body twitched.
“What is causing the movement in the body?” Brian was having a hard time looking at the child. He has seen many disgusting things in his career, but nothing made his stomach churn like seeing this small boy’s dead body lying on this cold metal table.
“I’ve injected the brain with a chemical we’ve been working on for a while now. You know the one. After all, you developed it.” Greg believed Brian would be pleased to hear this, yet Brian didn’t appear to be.
“And it is actually causing this? It has not even been lab tested for stability. How did you gain authorization to use it?”
The look on Greg’s face explained everything. No one else in the facility knew about it. This was top secret research because it was never authorized by the board of directors. They were the only group other than the few researchers on this floor that had any idea about what actually happened here.
“If this is not authorized than how did you come across this body?”
Greg turned his back to Brian and grabbed a hypodermic needle and a vial half full of the clear liquid that Brian recognized as a chemical mixture he had been working on.
“This was designed to trigger the regrowth of living tissue cells. The beginning to the process of growing back limbs for wounded soldiers. Why would you assume that it would work on a cadaver?”
“It has to work,” Greg replied with determination in his voice.
Brian found that he grew continuously more puzzled by Greg’s behavior. He stood by his friend, however, and continued to lend his knowledge when needed. The two men worked through the afternoon. The sun was just setting as Brian walked out into the parking lot and climbed in his car. He sat there for fifteen minutes and waited to see if Greg would part from his research. Brian realized Greg would continue to work throughout the night. He decided to head home and enjoy the rest of the evening with his family before they departed for their flight to Iowa in the morning.
Three days had passed and Brian felt exhausted. Their research had them working later and later each night. They were also gaining ground. Each day the boy would move more and more, yet his tissue would never regenerate. New calculations would be made to the formula, and the body would be flushed so the new mixture could be tried.
As Brian showed up for work one morning Greg was overjoyed. He couldn’t wait to show Brian the most recent of developments. Brian followed faithfully to lab eight. Nothing seemed different. The boy was lying where he had been with no apparent changes.
“What are you so happy about?” Brian asked with a smile of his own. He was thrilled to see his friend in such high spirits once again. Over the days, Brian had found that he too had become more excited about what they were doing.
“Don’t you see?” Greg failed at containing his excitement. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.
“I see nothing new,” Brian examined the body.
“The body has stopped decomposing completely. His cells are showing signs of activity. He isn’t regenerating, but I think we may have moved his body away from a dead state. He is completely neutral, not dead, and not alive.”
“This is amazing news,” Brian exclaimed with pleasure as he walked around the table. “We have to take this to the board. They will be delighted.”
As he reached into the drawer to grab a scalpel to scrape a fresh skin sample from the body he noticed a sheet of paper tucked away inside. The words “Missing Child” stuck out, so he pulled the paper out and unfolded it. The boy was named Samuel Kinsler, a nine-year old who has been missing for almost three weeks. The picture was that of the body in the lab, and he had lived on the same street as Greg.
Brian could feel the blood drain from his face. He felt as though he had seen a ghost, and he turned to Greg and asked, “What is this?”
“I wanted to tell you Brian, but I didn’t want you to know enough to bring trouble to you. I’m sorry. His name was Sam. He lived next door to me. Such a wonderful child. All I wanted was to bring him back to apologize.”
“What have you done? You killed this boy and brought him here?” The rage boiled inside Brian uncontrollably. “You killed this boy!”
“I hit him with my car Brian. I am so sorry. I didn’t see him. The only thing I could do was bring him here.” Greg’s eyes looked as though they had liquefied from the amount of tears that pooled under them.
Brian’s fist collided with the left side of Greg’s face with enough force to loosen two of his teeth. Greg never raised a hand in defense. He tried to remain standing as Brian hit him again and again. Blood poured from his mouth as well as from the gashes in his face that were created by the enraged Brian.
“You killed someone’s little boy you bastard!” Brian screamed through tears and sobs of his own. “Then you bring him here? We have been testing drugs on a child you murdered and brought into this lab unauthorized? I can only imagine how devastated his parents are. We have to tell them! They need closure!”
Greg lay there weeping on the floor as the punches stopped. Most of the blood was his own, yet blood dripped from Brian’s bruised knuckles as well. Brian’s breath came in forced gasps as he tried to regulate his breathing so he wouldn’t pass out. The beaten man looked up at him through his swollen face and gave his companion an understanding nod.
“Let me grab a first aid kit,” Brian said, the anger leaving his body. He walked toward the entrance of the lab where the first aid kits were mounted on the wall.
After pulling one of the med kits off the wall, Brian turned to walk back and looked toward the empty table. His head cocked to the left as he was struck with confusion. The boy no longer lay there. Greg could be seen propping himself up on an elbow, but the boy was nowhere.
“Where is the boy?” Brian inquired.
“I can’t see much, so I’m not sure what you mean.” Greg spit blood from his mouth as he tried to speak.
“The boy is gone Greg. He is not on the table.”
“Perhaps we knocked him down while you were beating the shit out of me,” Greg mumbled through his swollen lips.
“He is not on the floor. Maybe I should call for security.” Brian’s heart began to pound wildly.
“Yeah, ok. Then I’m having them kick your ass.” Greg managed with a pained laugh.
“This is no time for joking Greg. Seriously, our body is gone.” The fear was audible in his voice.
Brian stepped back toward the wall slowly and pressed the call button with his left hand. As the security officer answered he told him they needed assistance. He opened the lab door and looked out to see to men in dark blue suits walking down the hall toward them. He gave them a wave and stepped back into the lab to take care of Greg’s wounds.
Before Brian reached the ramp to the platform the boy appeared standing over Greg. Brian froze in place. The boy looked exactly as he had for the past few days. There was very little color remaining in his eyes. Greg looked up at the boy, the terror clearly visible on his swollen face. This look was soon washed away by relief as he was able to look at the boy and say, “I’m sorry, Sam.”
The small boy lunged at Greg while letting out a terrifying shriek. The fingers on both hands entered into Greg’s throat and he pulled outwards. Greg’s scream changed tone as his larynx was torn apart. Blood sprayed over the boy’s body. Holding open Greg’s neck Sam bit down into his throat pulling out the esophagus. As Sam stood up to his full height, Greg’s esophagus hung from his mouth like a soft wet rope.
“What the fuck?” The voice came as a shock to Brian, who turned and saw both security officers standing open-mouthed next to him. Brian recognized the taller of the two as a middle aged man named Henry. He had been with the company far longer than Brian had. The other officer, a younger man named Tim, Brian knew from his earlier days with the company.