The Fledge Effect (4 page)

Cops would swarm this place in a
heartbeat.
“Smoking? What for?”
“Old habit.”
“Yeah, a habit that almost killed you.”
“Enough of the past. Now, I think Doctor Johnston may have completed his experiment a little early.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I don’t. I know.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You better. I gave you a chance in this
life, now don’t blow it.”
“I understand.”
She left his car, heading towards her
own. He sped off, joining traffic. She leaned
against her car, tapping her keys in her palm.
She fiddled with the tiny brass key that went to
her desk drawer. She left the lot, heading back
to her office.
In the office, she saw Carlson napping
with his feet propped up on her desk. She
coughed, making him jump. He dropped to the
ground. “Oh, I was just, um. I don’t know.
Please don’t fire me.”
“I don’t have time to replace you. You’re
fine.”
Really?
He couldn’t believe how much
easier going she is being. Nevertheless, he didn’t
question it. He just enjoyed not feeling like he
had to preform aerobics on eggshells.
“Did you check my paperwork?” She
knew he had not, but decided to ask either way.
“No.”
His honesty struck her as suspicious. In
a field where everyone lies, it threw her off. She
nodded. “Okay. I’m sure you weren’t thinking
this was fun.”
“No, not really.”
“Well, I have some rules: Don’t ask me
questions about where I go, or what I do. And
don’t look in my drawers,” she said eyeing her
half open top drawer.
He chuckled nervously, as he rested his
elbow on her desk. He tried to be discreet when
he shut it, but she wasn’t blind to that fact. She
was well aware of how nosey people can be.
“Anymore rules?” he said, giving her
chair back. She rested her buttocks in the warm
seat.
She tapped her fingers together. “Yes.
Don’t get
too
involved in this job.”
He didn’t know exactly what she meant.
This job required involvement, but he figured
she was talking about personal relationships between coworkers. “No worries there,” he said as
he chuckled.
“Good.”

Lifting his torso, he searched the room
for Calista. Wincing, as his head throbbed, he
rustled the scattered papers and searched for
his phone.

After finding it, he chuckled sarcastically. “I’m going to find you. Just like when
you were a sneaky teenager.”

The tracker, he installed on her phone
when she was a teenager, gave him directions to
where she was headed. “Dammit.”

He pounded his fist against the steel
legs of his desk. Pulling himself up from the
mess, he wobbled towards the glass medicine
cabinet above the sink. He retrieved a bottle of
sedative, and a syringe.

His fingers fumbled, holding it upside
down, as he attempted to insert the needle. The
glass shattered inside the metal sink.

He yelled. “Fuck,” he said, and then he
reached for another bottle. “One last chance.”
Marcel filled the tube with the sedative,
holding his grip stronger than before. He
dropped the empty vial in the sink, and it broke
alongside its similar counterpart. He placed a
cap over the tip, and slipped the syringe inside
his lab coat pocket.
He left the institution, bracing the brisk
October air. As he trekked down the road, the
essence of putrid blood filled the air. His phone
ensured the direction he was headed down.
A misshapen black lump sit in the middle of the pavement. He narrowed his eyes, as
he approached it with hesitation. The caution in
his steps began to tremble when he realized
what he was staring at.
Three bodies with each of their faces
frozen in complex and bloody states. Marcel
brought his shivering hand to his lips. The air
worsened the shaking his body involuntarily
succumbed to. “Oh God!”
“Ahhh!”
The wail of a man caught the attention
of his ear. He followed the sound to an open
window three stories high on an apartment
complex. The man screamed again, this time initiating Marcel’s instincts to bolt up the concrete
steps. He shoved the door open, and followed
the steps towards the third floor.
There was a cluster of doors along the
walls, leading down to a window. He ran up to
it, popping it open. He checked both sides,
searching for the open window.
Both were closed.
He spun on his heels and faced the opposite end of the hall. With his heart galloping
like a racehorse, he heard a woman’s laughter
coming from the last door on the left.
Calista
,
he thought.
Marcel forcefully opened the door,
causing a loud bang against the adjoining wall.
In a daze, Nick heard a man holler the last part
of what he could hear through the pounding of
his heart. “… You can’t do this! Now come with
me!”
Nick’s consciousness soon faded after
the man pounced on her back. However, he was
still able to catch glimpses of the two struggling.
Sound evaded his ears and an icy fire burned
throughout his chest. Screams, on the inside,
filled his head with the only noise he could remember.
“Please don’t make me do this to you.”
He closed his eyes, retracting a metal syringe
from his coat pocket. “I’m begging you to stop!”
“Never, Father!” she growled. With a
hiss, she lowered her face. “
Never will I stop.
”
He jabbed her in the shoulder, sinking
the needle deep into her clavicle. He exhaled as
the liquid transferred inside her. “I’m so sorry.”
She collapsed on Nick, as her muscles
stiffened. Pulling her up to his chest, he whispered in her ear, “
I’ll fix this. I know I can. Calista, I’ll bring you back to life. Your old life… As
a human. That is a promise.
”
With his other hand, he tapped on
Nick’s face. Each tap hardened. “Sir? Are you
okay?”
Nothing but trapped groans escaped his
lips.
Nick’s eyelids weighed down as he lifted
them open. Flames now ignited inside his chest,
falling down from the side of his neck. He
groaned, “I can’t… I… My chest… Breathless.”
Marcel tilted Nick’s head to the side,
checking for a pulse. Two puncture holes bled
without pause. The man slapped his face
harder. Without a response, he sat back on the
bed, thinking
I’m too late. But, not too late to
save my Daughter.
Heaving the stiff body over
his shoulder, he left Nick’s home praying this is
the end.
On the way back to his lab, he aimed to
take samples of the three lifeless bodies that laid
still on the pavement. When he approached the
spot, he lost his breath. “They’re gone!”
He searched the open road, wondering,
who would have taken the bodies.
He prayed
that no one would know it was he. But, the cameras in his lab would suggest otherwise.
The door to the institution proved difficult to open with only one hand. He patted his
pockets, searching for his key card. “Shit!” He
realized it was on his desk. He searched the
parking lot, looking for another worker.
Two beeps, from a car alarm being engaged, caught his attention. “Emily?” he asked,
as she retreated from the driver’s side.
She looked up, and smiled. “Dr. Johnston.” Her smile soon faded. “Who is that on
your shoulder?”
“No time for questions. I need in.”
“Forgot your card again? Is that Calista?”
“Err, um, yes. But, I need to get in.”
She pulled her card from her purse.
“Okay, okay. Don’t rush me. Is she okay?”
“Yes,” he half-grinned.
She squinted her eyes, not believing
him for a second. “What’s going on?” she said,
opening the door open for him.
Before she received an answer, he disappeared down the hall to his lab. He slammed
the door shut, and seconds later reopened it.
“Get me a cage. Preferably a big one. Just leave
it by my door.”
He almost shut the door, and then he
remembered his manners, “Oh, and thank you.”
“Sure, thing,” Emily said as he shut his
door. “Something is up, and I am going to find
out.”
A student that had been shadowing her
greeted Emily at her door. “I called you three
hours ago.” His lisp, caused by his braces, made
her grunt. Her head was banging.
“Get me some Tylenol and water,
please.”
“Okay, but first, I have something important to show you.”
She rubbed her temples. “Is it anything
to do with teaching the monkey sign language?”
“Yes,” he grinned, returning with what
she had asked for.
She shook her head. “Go home,
Frankie.”
He frowned. His pimply face turning
red, he said, “Okay.”
Emily signed out on the biggest cage
she had available. She grimaced at the dirtiness
of the cage. However, she got the hint it was
needed ASAP.
She heeled it down the hall, knocked on
his door, and waited for him to answer. She
peered over his shoulder. Only a woman’s hand
was visible. He stepped in her way, blocking the
view.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing,” he grinned.
“Then what is this cage for?” she said,
gripping it tightly close to her.
“No reason,” he said trying to yank it
from her.
“Then there is no reason you need this.”
He reached for it again. “I can’t answer
you at this moment.”
“I want answers. Now, Marcel!”
“Later,” he hissed. Calista groaned behind him.
“At least tell me what is wrong with her.
Maybe I could help.”
“No. She is just sick, that’s all.”
“With what? Come on. We are scientists; we can help her get better together.”
“She is fine. She just needs to rest.”
“She is my friend,” Emily said, burrowing her eyes deep into his.
He shook his head. “She is my daughter. I got this. Now go away!”
Emily felt reluctant to leave, but allowed him to take the cage.
•••
Grant found it hard to rest his eyes. More
shrieks continued to grow outside his window,
keeping him wide-awake. He got up, rubbed his
eyes, and sat on the edge of his bed. He groaned,
“Crap.” He didn’t have a clue as to why sleep
evaded him. He couldn’t get the conversation
out of his mind.
He stood, grabbing his phone. He wondered if his girlfriend was awake as well. He
watched the slightly lighted streets through his
window curtains. Misses Sawyer ran down the
street, and she was still in her pajamas. Grant
flipped his ponytail over his shoulder, getting a
closer look as he ended his phone call. “What
the… That is odd attire to be doing some late
night jogging.”
He rubbed his eyes.
Am I dreaming?
He tried to see if she were being chased.
But no one was behind her. “Hmmm. She’s a
weird one.”
He ran down the stairs, but noticed he
was alone. Jeremiah wasn’t in the study,
kitchen, or anywhere. Grant rounded the corner
that separated the kitchen from the dining
room. “Hmmm,” he sighed. Extinguished cigarettes sat in the ashtray near the entranceway.
He knew his father left quite some time ago. But
he hadn’t the faintest idea of when that time
was.
A motor could be heard nearing the
house. A block away, as far as Grant could tell.
He headed towards the living room, half expecting to find his father smoking on the porch
swing. But, he wasn’t there.
He noticed a pair of headlights, shining
in from the living room. He heard the car park
in the driveway, followed by a slam of the car
door. He looked out the window. It was his dad.
Jeremiah treaded up the porch, swinging the
door open.
“Where did you go this late?” Grant interrogated.
He lifted up a grocery sack. “We were
out of eggs.” His hand shook in the air. Just the
weight of the eggs was enough to make him give
out. He rested his arm to his side.
Grant didn’t know how that was possible, when there was already a full carton in the
fridge. He shrugged. “Okay.”
He felt sorry for his father. He was
afraid the old man was beginning to get senile.
He patted Jeremiah’s shoulder. “Okay, now
time for bed.”
Jeremiah coughed. “I’m not that old,
boy.”
“Sure you’re not.” Grant was determined to ensure his father’s well-being. He
promised his mother that he would. After she
passed away, Jeremiah was diagnosed with lung
cancer. Then, after several years of battling it, it
was gone. No trace of it ever being there.
Grant didn’t understand how that was
possible. The doctors claimed it was a medical
miracle, but Jeremiah didn’t seem too impressed. Almost, as if, he expected that to happen. It baffled Grant. Yet, he always gave
thanks. He knew his father as a good man, and
knew it was about time for a good person to get
what they deserve.
Lately, to Grant, it seemed as if only the
bad ones were ever having anything good happen to them while the actual good people had to
suffer just because they were nice.
Jeremiah passed it off, handing him the
eggs. “Put these away. Night.”
“Hey, did you happen to pass Misses
Sawyer on your way here?”
He paused at Grant’s question. He did,
indeed, pass her. How could he forget the sight
of nice lady becoming ravenous for blood? He
couldn’t it. He wanted to forget the sight, as if it
never happened. “No, son.”
Grant nodded. “Should we call someone? She looked hurt, drugged, or something.”
Jeremiah flung his bedroom door open.
“No!” After realizing he was louder than need
be, he corrected his tone. “I’m sure she is fine.”
Grant stepped back, afraid. “Sure,
maybe. But, I have my phone here. It would just
be a click away to call for help.”
“No,” he said, again. He snatched
Grant’s phone. “No more of this.”
“I’m a grown man, who pays my own
bills.”
Jeremiah tossed it back. “No call for
help. And cut that damn ponytail off. You look
ridiculous. You need to impress the dean.”
“Sure.”
He sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t believe his father,
the Mayor
, didn’t want them to
help a civilian.
Maybe he didn’t believe me
,
Grant thought.
His phone rang. It was Melissa, his girlfriend.
“Hey,” he answered.
She groaned.
“Are you okay?”
She groaned again.
“Okay, well call me when you are fully
awake.” He hung up. “That was weird.”
He caught his reflection in the glass of
the empty gun safe. For once, he agreed with his
father
. It’s a good hairstyle for those hacks who
sit at café’s pretending to write their screenplays. But not for a scientist
, he thought.
•••
Early, the following morning, Maddie traced
down the street. She lived a few houses down
from her mother’s house. Leaving town would
have been too much for her to handle. After
Emily up and left, Trudy, their mother, was all
Maddie had left of her family. Everyone seemed
to move away after the 2012 scare. Trudy, owning more property than Mayor of New Haven,
set up the entire town as apocalypse proof.
Bomb shelters, safe houses, and walls were all
built to ensure the safety of the townspeople.
Yet, it scared more off than it attracted.
Her older sister couldn’t wait to leave
town. Maddie, however, loved New Haven too
much to leave. There wasn’t much to New Haven. Enough to get by, but due to lack of population not much was given to New Haven. The
remaining people who did stay, worked together to make it beautiful. Flowers would
spring up, and trees blossomed all without a
struggle. It brought in plenty of visitors. But
only long enough for small weddings, or pictures.
Maddie wished the visitors would
choose to stay. Considering, the fact, if she were
to lock the wall and trap them here, it would be
considered kidnapping.
However, she did plan to leave for the
day, to visit Emily. It worried her that she would
not answer her phone. After everything that has
happened, Maddie could only assume all what
Emily needs is family at that moment. She knew
Emily would never come back, that is why she
chose to go to her. She tried to beg her to move
back, but Emily remained firm in her decision.
Trudy answered the door. “Hey sweetie,
breakfast is almost done.”
Maddie walked in, her palms sweaty.
“A-actually, m-mom. I won’t have time to eat.”
“What?” Trudy swung around. “You’re
nothing but bone. Eat!”
“I’m on my way out. I just wanted to see
if you needed me to pick something up?” Her
hands shook. She knew her mother would object to leaving town for any reason besides shopping.
“Where you off to, exactly?”
“Out of town. Maybe get some namebrand groceries for once,” Maddie said. Her
mother stared heavily into her. She chuckled,
showing all of her teeth in a giant smile.
“Okay. But, remember, I only like organic foods. None of that processed crap,”
Trudy said, waving her hand by her shoulder.
She came back out of the kitchen, holding a
piece of scribbled on white paper. “Take this. Do
you need money?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Well, okay, because you weren’t going
to get any. I raised you for damn neared twenty
years. If anything, you owe me,” she said with a
smile. Maddie knew she was being funny. However, not many people were able to catch on to
her wild sense of humor.
Trudy lowered her eyes, darkened with
sadness. She walked back into the kitchen,
dragging the heels of her house slippers behind
her. Maddie followed her.
She watched as Trudy trembled to pour
herself a cup of coffee. The drips of cold coffee
stuck to the brim of the glass. She knew it wasn’t
her first cup. “What’s wrong?”