Hero Jenkins's Blog, page 5
April 29, 2013
Chapter Five: Subject Number Five
Hero Jenkins --- 4/29/13
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Chapter FiveJeff's entire body hurt, the pain was indescribable. His conscious moments had become muddled and hazy, punctuated only by pain and agony. How much time had passed? Hours he guessed. The fact that he wasn’t sure concerned him a little, he used to be pretty good at keeping track of time. So much so he rarely wore a watch. But what really had him scared was the fact that he was feeling less and less human with each passing moment. It was as though he was de-evolving. His cognitive functions seemed to be diminishing, while his senses, like his sense of smell and hearing, seemed to be sharpening.
He was starting to recognize some of the sounds and smells... he knew where he was now... he was in New York. The men who had broken into his apartment had taken him from Los Angeles and flown him to New York… but why?His head was clear for now. There was a small amount of light filtering in. He could tell that he was strapped to a metal chair and that the metal chair was bolted to the floor of a metal cage. Jeff had been straining against the bindings that held him. He had been at it for hours and he was having some success. The bindings were loosening. Suddenly, he could hear something else. Over all of the other sounds that were attacking his ears, he could now hear something new. Someone was coming. There was the faint sound of footsteps and they were coming closer. Then amazingly he could hear a terrified heart beat just on the other side of his cage’s door. Jeff worked his left hand free. It was just in time too... because whoever his visitor was, they were now fiddling with the lock. Jeff closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He would wait until his prey got closer and then he would strike.***The Gulfstream G650 was parked in the center of a gigantic private hanger. It was large enough for three planes but today there was only the one. A tremendous amount of extra light had been brought in and there wasn’t a shadow large enough to hide a mouse. But that wasn’t the strange part. The plane was ringed by a six foot wide, four foot deep structure of some kind. Sawdust and wood fragments littered the floor. When he got closer he saw that the structure consisted of two parallel walls that had been recently built from plywood with 2X4’s for support. Plastic tarps had been placed in the center of the walls. The tarps were laid end to end, sealed water tight and then the whole thing was filled with water. It was like a moat around a castle. Herman made eye contact with the guards… they looked away. They were nervous and they were not even trying to hide it. Herman also noticed that they all had the moat between them and the plane.A couple of the guards muscled a small poorly built wooden bridge into position so that Herman could get to the other side of the moat. The “bridge”, once he got a closer look at it, was constructed from two wooden step ladders each about six feet tall. Three, six foot long 2x4’s had been nailed between the step ladders to form the bridge over the water, but why was it necessary? It made no sense. The moment the bridge was in place, the heavily armed guards to a man raised their weapons and aimed them at the jet’s door. Herman was getting nervous. Like a condemned man walking the plank of a pirate’s ship, Herman slowly inched his way across the bridge above the “moat”. The guards immediately removed the bridge the moment Herman was on the other side and then they just stood there and watched him approach the plane. Each one of them had a “better you than me” look plastered on his face. Herman had seen a lot of creepy-questionable things since he came to work for Sloane Industries, but this… a moat around an private jet was just bizarre. And what worried him the most was that no one else assembled in that hangar seemed to think so. The jet’s door was open so Herman jogged on up the steps and poked his head through the door. The gulfstream had been gutted, it was basically a shell. The cage was in a specially designed cargo area in the rear of the jet. Herman had to hurry because he had been told that the jet would be there just long enough to be refueled and for the new pilots to arrive. Rumor had it that the cage and its contents were next destined for Brazil. But Herman didn’t care his task was a simple one and it wouldn’t take long. The doctors based here in New York needed a tissue sample and he was low man on the totem pole so he was assigned the task. He had been assured that there was no danger, that the monster was secure. Either they were wrong or they had lied to him, in the end it didn’t really matter which. Herman opened the door to the large metal cage but he was unprepared for the stench. He froze for just an instant to steady himself and was caught completely by surprise by the swipe of a large hand with razor sharp claws. A monstrous hand that was supposed to be securely strapped down. Herman had absolutely no time to react. He felt the monster’s claw ripping through his flesh, tearing at him as though his heart was literally being ripped right out of his chest.Herman managed to back away from the cage. He was in shock by the time he turned and stumbled towards the door. As soon as he reached it, his survival instincts kicked in. He had seen first hand what his company was willing to do to those careless enough to get contaminated with whatever. He cinched his lab coat closed to conceal the wound. He forced himself to ignore the pain that seemed to be slowly spreading throughout his body. When he stepped from the plane the guards immediately moved the bridge into place. Herman got lucky, none of the guards would even look at him. They made no effort to stop him, after all they were told only to keep the unauthorized out. He stumbled from the hangar and considered what he should do next. He couldn’t go back to the office and a hospital would ask too many questions. Soon Herman had a singular focus, he was hurt and he wanted to go home. The last thing he remembered was boarding the subway train.***The two men rode in silence down unfamiliar streets. They were on a mission in a van that had been stolen for just the occasion. The first thing they noticed as they approached the four-story toy factory was the giant water tower in center of the roof. Beyond the tower, there was nothing else distinctive about the building. The people who lived in this neighborhood walked past it everyday having no idea what was really going on inside. The van had been painted to resemble one of the toy factory’s delivery vans. The bored security guards at the front gate simply waved them through after only a cursory glance at their paperwork.Once past the gate, the men didn’t go to the loading dock, but detoured to the employee underground parking lot. There was only one shift at this facility, the night shift. As a result the lot was nearing capacity. The men in the van were in luck; they found a parking spot just where they needed to be… near the center of the building. The driver and his passenger climbed out of the van and stretched, it had been a long trip. Then they opened the back of the van and got busy setting everything up. The two men moved with the ease of skilled operatives who had done this kind of thing before… because they had. They took little notice of the dedicated employees arriving to work at this corporate “black site”. Employees who, like sheep, moved casually towards the elevators... chatting about nothing in particular, carrying lunches and backpacks, whatever else they needed to get them through a full shift of work. They had no idea they were all about to die. They were all going to die because they had committed the unforgivable sin; they had allowed their security to be breached and the company’s secrets had been exposed. They had now become a liability so the employees and this entire facility needed to be erased. As it turned out, that was the specialty of the two men from the van.The explosives they were using was an advanced version of “tritonal”, which was a mixture of aluminum powder and TNT. It had the same lethal blast radius (150 yards) of the military’s MOAB (Massive Ordinance Air Blast bomb). The MOAB bomb could devastate an entire city block. But where the MOAB weighed nine and a half tons and was the length of a bus, their device fit neatly into the back of their stolen van.After they armed the bomb, they got to the minimum safe distance before setting it off. The bomb was a specially designed, two stage marvel of destructive power. The first stage of the device would launch a bunker busting projectile up through the floor and would reach as high as the third floor before exploding. The resulting fire would incenerate everything inside. Then they would set off the secondary device, the MOAB to collapse what was left of the building.***The blast was enormous and within minutes the four story toy factory was reduced to fire and rubble. The blast tore through nearby buildings including the one that was being used as a surveillance post by the agency. Only one of the agents, the one lucky enough to be sleeping in the back at the time of the blast survived.
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Chapter FiveJeff's entire body hurt, the pain was indescribable. His conscious moments had become muddled and hazy, punctuated only by pain and agony. How much time had passed? Hours he guessed. The fact that he wasn’t sure concerned him a little, he used to be pretty good at keeping track of time. So much so he rarely wore a watch. But what really had him scared was the fact that he was feeling less and less human with each passing moment. It was as though he was de-evolving. His cognitive functions seemed to be diminishing, while his senses, like his sense of smell and hearing, seemed to be sharpening.
He was starting to recognize some of the sounds and smells... he knew where he was now... he was in New York. The men who had broken into his apartment had taken him from Los Angeles and flown him to New York… but why?His head was clear for now. There was a small amount of light filtering in. He could tell that he was strapped to a metal chair and that the metal chair was bolted to the floor of a metal cage. Jeff had been straining against the bindings that held him. He had been at it for hours and he was having some success. The bindings were loosening. Suddenly, he could hear something else. Over all of the other sounds that were attacking his ears, he could now hear something new. Someone was coming. There was the faint sound of footsteps and they were coming closer. Then amazingly he could hear a terrified heart beat just on the other side of his cage’s door. Jeff worked his left hand free. It was just in time too... because whoever his visitor was, they were now fiddling with the lock. Jeff closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He would wait until his prey got closer and then he would strike.***The Gulfstream G650 was parked in the center of a gigantic private hanger. It was large enough for three planes but today there was only the one. A tremendous amount of extra light had been brought in and there wasn’t a shadow large enough to hide a mouse. But that wasn’t the strange part. The plane was ringed by a six foot wide, four foot deep structure of some kind. Sawdust and wood fragments littered the floor. When he got closer he saw that the structure consisted of two parallel walls that had been recently built from plywood with 2X4’s for support. Plastic tarps had been placed in the center of the walls. The tarps were laid end to end, sealed water tight and then the whole thing was filled with water. It was like a moat around a castle. Herman made eye contact with the guards… they looked away. They were nervous and they were not even trying to hide it. Herman also noticed that they all had the moat between them and the plane.A couple of the guards muscled a small poorly built wooden bridge into position so that Herman could get to the other side of the moat. The “bridge”, once he got a closer look at it, was constructed from two wooden step ladders each about six feet tall. Three, six foot long 2x4’s had been nailed between the step ladders to form the bridge over the water, but why was it necessary? It made no sense. The moment the bridge was in place, the heavily armed guards to a man raised their weapons and aimed them at the jet’s door. Herman was getting nervous. Like a condemned man walking the plank of a pirate’s ship, Herman slowly inched his way across the bridge above the “moat”. The guards immediately removed the bridge the moment Herman was on the other side and then they just stood there and watched him approach the plane. Each one of them had a “better you than me” look plastered on his face. Herman had seen a lot of creepy-questionable things since he came to work for Sloane Industries, but this… a moat around an private jet was just bizarre. And what worried him the most was that no one else assembled in that hangar seemed to think so. The jet’s door was open so Herman jogged on up the steps and poked his head through the door. The gulfstream had been gutted, it was basically a shell. The cage was in a specially designed cargo area in the rear of the jet. Herman had to hurry because he had been told that the jet would be there just long enough to be refueled and for the new pilots to arrive. Rumor had it that the cage and its contents were next destined for Brazil. But Herman didn’t care his task was a simple one and it wouldn’t take long. The doctors based here in New York needed a tissue sample and he was low man on the totem pole so he was assigned the task. He had been assured that there was no danger, that the monster was secure. Either they were wrong or they had lied to him, in the end it didn’t really matter which. Herman opened the door to the large metal cage but he was unprepared for the stench. He froze for just an instant to steady himself and was caught completely by surprise by the swipe of a large hand with razor sharp claws. A monstrous hand that was supposed to be securely strapped down. Herman had absolutely no time to react. He felt the monster’s claw ripping through his flesh, tearing at him as though his heart was literally being ripped right out of his chest.Herman managed to back away from the cage. He was in shock by the time he turned and stumbled towards the door. As soon as he reached it, his survival instincts kicked in. He had seen first hand what his company was willing to do to those careless enough to get contaminated with whatever. He cinched his lab coat closed to conceal the wound. He forced himself to ignore the pain that seemed to be slowly spreading throughout his body. When he stepped from the plane the guards immediately moved the bridge into place. Herman got lucky, none of the guards would even look at him. They made no effort to stop him, after all they were told only to keep the unauthorized out. He stumbled from the hangar and considered what he should do next. He couldn’t go back to the office and a hospital would ask too many questions. Soon Herman had a singular focus, he was hurt and he wanted to go home. The last thing he remembered was boarding the subway train.***The two men rode in silence down unfamiliar streets. They were on a mission in a van that had been stolen for just the occasion. The first thing they noticed as they approached the four-story toy factory was the giant water tower in center of the roof. Beyond the tower, there was nothing else distinctive about the building. The people who lived in this neighborhood walked past it everyday having no idea what was really going on inside. The van had been painted to resemble one of the toy factory’s delivery vans. The bored security guards at the front gate simply waved them through after only a cursory glance at their paperwork.Once past the gate, the men didn’t go to the loading dock, but detoured to the employee underground parking lot. There was only one shift at this facility, the night shift. As a result the lot was nearing capacity. The men in the van were in luck; they found a parking spot just where they needed to be… near the center of the building. The driver and his passenger climbed out of the van and stretched, it had been a long trip. Then they opened the back of the van and got busy setting everything up. The two men moved with the ease of skilled operatives who had done this kind of thing before… because they had. They took little notice of the dedicated employees arriving to work at this corporate “black site”. Employees who, like sheep, moved casually towards the elevators... chatting about nothing in particular, carrying lunches and backpacks, whatever else they needed to get them through a full shift of work. They had no idea they were all about to die. They were all going to die because they had committed the unforgivable sin; they had allowed their security to be breached and the company’s secrets had been exposed. They had now become a liability so the employees and this entire facility needed to be erased. As it turned out, that was the specialty of the two men from the van.The explosives they were using was an advanced version of “tritonal”, which was a mixture of aluminum powder and TNT. It had the same lethal blast radius (150 yards) of the military’s MOAB (Massive Ordinance Air Blast bomb). The MOAB bomb could devastate an entire city block. But where the MOAB weighed nine and a half tons and was the length of a bus, their device fit neatly into the back of their stolen van.After they armed the bomb, they got to the minimum safe distance before setting it off. The bomb was a specially designed, two stage marvel of destructive power. The first stage of the device would launch a bunker busting projectile up through the floor and would reach as high as the third floor before exploding. The resulting fire would incenerate everything inside. Then they would set off the secondary device, the MOAB to collapse what was left of the building.***The blast was enormous and within minutes the four story toy factory was reduced to fire and rubble. The blast tore through nearby buildings including the one that was being used as a surveillance post by the agency. Only one of the agents, the one lucky enough to be sleeping in the back at the time of the blast survived. 
Chapter Five: Number Five
Hero Jenkins --- 4/29/13
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Chapter FiveJeff's entire body hurt, the pain was indescribable. His conscious moments had become muddled and hazy, punctuated only by pain and agony. How much time had passed? Hours he guessed. The fact that he wasn’t sure concerned him a little, he used to be pretty good at keeping track of time. So much so he rarely wore a watch. But what really had him scared was the fact that he was feeling less and less human with each passing moment. It was as though he was de-evolving. His cognitive functions seemed to be diminishing, while his senses, like his sense of smell and hearing, seemed to be sharpening.
He was starting to recognize some of the sounds and smells... he knew where he was now... he was in New York. The men who had broken into his apartment had taken him from Los Angeles and flown him to New York… but why?His head was clear for now. There was a small amount of light filtering in. He could tell that he was strapped to a metal chair and that the metal chair was bolted to the floor of a metal cage. Jeff had been straining against the bindings that held him. He had been at it for hours and he was having some success. The bindings were loosening. Suddenly, he could hear something else. Over all of the other sounds that were attacking his ears, he could now hear something new. Someone was coming. There was the faint sound of footsteps and they were coming closer. Then amazingly he could hear a terrified heart beat just on the other side of his cage’s door. Jeff worked his left hand free. It was just in time too... because whoever his visitor was, they were now fiddling with the lock. Jeff closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He would wait until his prey got closer and then he would strike.***The Gulfstream G650 was parked in the center of a gigantic private hanger. It was large enough for three planes but today there was only the one. A tremendous amount of extra light had been brought in and there wasn’t a shadow large enough to hide a mouse. But that wasn’t the strange part. The plane was ringed by a six foot wide, four foot deep structure of some kind. Sawdust and wood fragments littered the floor. When he got closer he saw that the structure consisted of two parallel walls that had been recently built from plywood with 2X4’s for support. Plastic tarps had been placed in the center of the walls. The tarps were laid end to end, sealed water tight and then the whole thing was filled with water. It was like a moat around a castle. Herman made eye contact with the guards… they looked away. They were nervous and they were not even trying to hide it. Herman also noticed that they all had the moat between them and the plane.A couple of the guards muscled a small poorly built wooden bridge into position so that Herman could get to the other side of the moat. The “bridge”, once he got a closer look at it, was constructed from two wooden step ladders each about six feet tall. Three, six foot long 2x4’s had been nailed between the step ladders to form the bridge over the water, but why was it necessary? It made no sense. The moment the bridge was in place, the heavily armed guards to a man raised their weapons and aimed them at the jet’s door. Herman was getting nervous. Like a condemned man walking the plank of a pirate’s ship, Herman slowly inched his way across the bridge above the “moat”. The guards immediately removed the bridge the moment Herman was on the other side and then they just stood there and watched him approach the plane. Each one of them had a “better you than me” look plastered on his face. Herman had seen a lot of creepy-questionable things since he came to work for Sloane Industries, but this… a moat around an private jet was just bizarre. And what worried him the most was that no one else assembled in that hangar seemed to think so. The jet’s door was open so Herman jogged on up the steps and poked his head through the door. The gulfstream had been gutted, it was basically a shell. The cage was in a specially designed cargo area in the rear of the jet. Herman had to hurry because he had been told that the jet would be there just long enough to be refueled and for the new pilots to arrive. Rumor had it that the cage and its contents were next destined for Brazil. But Herman didn’t care his task was a simple one and it wouldn’t take long. The doctors based here in New York needed a tissue sample and he was low man on the totem pole so he was assigned the task. He had been assured that there was no danger, that the monster was secure. Either they were wrong or they had lied to him, in the end it didn’t really matter which. Herman opened the door to the large metal cage but he was unprepared for the stench. He froze for just an instant to steady himself and was caught completely by surprise by the swipe of a large hand with razor sharp claws. A monstrous hand that was supposed to be securely strapped down. Herman had absolutely no time to react. He felt the monster’s claw ripping through his flesh, tearing at him as though his heart was literally being ripped right out of his chest.Herman managed to back away from the cage. He was in shock by the time he turned and stumbled towards the door. As soon as he reached it, his survival instincts kicked in. He had seen first hand what his company was willing to do to those careless enough to get contaminated with whatever. He cinched his lab coat closed to conceal the wound. He forced himself to ignore the pain that seemed to be slowly spreading throughout his body. When he stepped from the plane the guards immediately moved the bridge into place. Herman got lucky, none of the guards would even look at him. They made no effort to stop him, after all they were told only to keep the unauthorized out. He stumbled from the hangar and considered what he should do next. He couldn’t go back to the office and a hospital would ask too many questions. Soon Herman had a singular focus, he was hurt and he wanted to go home. The last thing he remembered was boarding the subway train.***The two men rode in silence down unfamiliar streets. They were on a mission in a van that had been stolen for just the occasion. The first thing they noticed as they approached the four-story toy factory was the giant water tower in center of the roof. Beyond the tower, there was nothing else distinctive about the building. The people who lived in this neighborhood walked past it everyday having no idea what was really going on inside. The van had been painted to resemble one of the toy factory’s delivery vans. The bored security guards at the front gate simply waved them through after only a cursory glance at their paperwork.Once past the gate, the men didn’t go to the loading dock, but detoured to the employee underground parking lot. There was only one shift at this facility, the night shift. As a result the lot was nearing capacity. The men in the van were in luck; they found a parking spot just where they needed to be… near the center of the building. The driver and his passenger climbed out of the van and stretched, it had been a long trip. Then they opened the back of the van and got busy setting everything up. The two men moved with the ease of skilled operatives who had done this kind of thing before… because they had. They took little notice of the dedicated employees arriving to work at this corporate “black site”. Employees who, like sheep, moved casually towards the elevators... chatting about nothing in particular, carrying lunches and backpacks, whatever else they needed to get them through a full shift of work. They had no idea they were all about to die. They were all going to die because they had committed the unforgivable sin; they had allowed their security to be breached and the company’s secrets had been exposed. They had now become a liability so the employees and this entire facility needed to be erased. As it turned out, that was the specialty of the two men from the van.The explosives they were using was an advanced version of “tritonal”, which was a mixture of aluminum powder and TNT. It had the same lethal blast radius (150 yards) of the military’s MOAB (Massive Ordinance Air Blast bomb). The MOAB bomb could devastate an entire city block. But where the MOAB weighed nine and a half tons and was the length of a bus, their device fit neatly into the back of their stolen van.After they armed the bomb, they got to the minimum safe distance before setting it off. The bomb was a specially designed, two stage marvel of destructive power. The first stage of the device would launch a bunker busting projectile up through the floor and would reach as high as the third floor before exploding. The resulting fire would incenerate everything inside. Then they would set off the secondary device, the MOAB to collapse what was left of the building.***The blast was enormous and within minutes the four story toy factory was reduced to fire and rubble. The blast tore through nearby buildings including the one that was being used as a surveillance post by the agency. Only one of the agents, the one lucky enough to be sleeping in the back at the time of the blast survived.
Click here to go to our Facebook Page and "Like" us
Chapter FiveJeff's entire body hurt, the pain was indescribable. His conscious moments had become muddled and hazy, punctuated only by pain and agony. How much time had passed? Hours he guessed. The fact that he wasn’t sure concerned him a little, he used to be pretty good at keeping track of time. So much so he rarely wore a watch. But what really had him scared was the fact that he was feeling less and less human with each passing moment. It was as though he was de-evolving. His cognitive functions seemed to be diminishing, while his senses, like his sense of smell and hearing, seemed to be sharpening.
He was starting to recognize some of the sounds and smells... he knew where he was now... he was in New York. The men who had broken into his apartment had taken him from Los Angeles and flown him to New York… but why?His head was clear for now. There was a small amount of light filtering in. He could tell that he was strapped to a metal chair and that the metal chair was bolted to the floor of a metal cage. Jeff had been straining against the bindings that held him. He had been at it for hours and he was having some success. The bindings were loosening. Suddenly, he could hear something else. Over all of the other sounds that were attacking his ears, he could now hear something new. Someone was coming. There was the faint sound of footsteps and they were coming closer. Then amazingly he could hear a terrified heart beat just on the other side of his cage’s door. Jeff worked his left hand free. It was just in time too... because whoever his visitor was, they were now fiddling with the lock. Jeff closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He would wait until his prey got closer and then he would strike.***The Gulfstream G650 was parked in the center of a gigantic private hanger. It was large enough for three planes but today there was only the one. A tremendous amount of extra light had been brought in and there wasn’t a shadow large enough to hide a mouse. But that wasn’t the strange part. The plane was ringed by a six foot wide, four foot deep structure of some kind. Sawdust and wood fragments littered the floor. When he got closer he saw that the structure consisted of two parallel walls that had been recently built from plywood with 2X4’s for support. Plastic tarps had been placed in the center of the walls. The tarps were laid end to end, sealed water tight and then the whole thing was filled with water. It was like a moat around a castle. Herman made eye contact with the guards… they looked away. They were nervous and they were not even trying to hide it. Herman also noticed that they all had the moat between them and the plane.A couple of the guards muscled a small poorly built wooden bridge into position so that Herman could get to the other side of the moat. The “bridge”, once he got a closer look at it, was constructed from two wooden step ladders each about six feet tall. Three, six foot long 2x4’s had been nailed between the step ladders to form the bridge over the water, but why was it necessary? It made no sense. The moment the bridge was in place, the heavily armed guards to a man raised their weapons and aimed them at the jet’s door. Herman was getting nervous. Like a condemned man walking the plank of a pirate’s ship, Herman slowly inched his way across the bridge above the “moat”. The guards immediately removed the bridge the moment Herman was on the other side and then they just stood there and watched him approach the plane. Each one of them had a “better you than me” look plastered on his face. Herman had seen a lot of creepy-questionable things since he came to work for Sloane Industries, but this… a moat around an private jet was just bizarre. And what worried him the most was that no one else assembled in that hangar seemed to think so. The jet’s door was open so Herman jogged on up the steps and poked his head through the door. The gulfstream had been gutted, it was basically a shell. The cage was in a specially designed cargo area in the rear of the jet. Herman had to hurry because he had been told that the jet would be there just long enough to be refueled and for the new pilots to arrive. Rumor had it that the cage and its contents were next destined for Brazil. But Herman didn’t care his task was a simple one and it wouldn’t take long. The doctors based here in New York needed a tissue sample and he was low man on the totem pole so he was assigned the task. He had been assured that there was no danger, that the monster was secure. Either they were wrong or they had lied to him, in the end it didn’t really matter which. Herman opened the door to the large metal cage but he was unprepared for the stench. He froze for just an instant to steady himself and was caught completely by surprise by the swipe of a large hand with razor sharp claws. A monstrous hand that was supposed to be securely strapped down. Herman had absolutely no time to react. He felt the monster’s claw ripping through his flesh, tearing at him as though his heart was literally being ripped right out of his chest.Herman managed to back away from the cage. He was in shock by the time he turned and stumbled towards the door. As soon as he reached it, his survival instincts kicked in. He had seen first hand what his company was willing to do to those careless enough to get contaminated with whatever. He cinched his lab coat closed to conceal the wound. He forced himself to ignore the pain that seemed to be slowly spreading throughout his body. When he stepped from the plane the guards immediately moved the bridge into place. Herman got lucky, none of the guards would even look at him. They made no effort to stop him, after all they were told only to keep the unauthorized out. He stumbled from the hangar and considered what he should do next. He couldn’t go back to the office and a hospital would ask too many questions. Soon Herman had a singular focus, he was hurt and he wanted to go home. The last thing he remembered was boarding the subway train.***The two men rode in silence down unfamiliar streets. They were on a mission in a van that had been stolen for just the occasion. The first thing they noticed as they approached the four-story toy factory was the giant water tower in center of the roof. Beyond the tower, there was nothing else distinctive about the building. The people who lived in this neighborhood walked past it everyday having no idea what was really going on inside. The van had been painted to resemble one of the toy factory’s delivery vans. The bored security guards at the front gate simply waved them through after only a cursory glance at their paperwork.Once past the gate, the men didn’t go to the loading dock, but detoured to the employee underground parking lot. There was only one shift at this facility, the night shift. As a result the lot was nearing capacity. The men in the van were in luck; they found a parking spot just where they needed to be… near the center of the building. The driver and his passenger climbed out of the van and stretched, it had been a long trip. Then they opened the back of the van and got busy setting everything up. The two men moved with the ease of skilled operatives who had done this kind of thing before… because they had. They took little notice of the dedicated employees arriving to work at this corporate “black site”. Employees who, like sheep, moved casually towards the elevators... chatting about nothing in particular, carrying lunches and backpacks, whatever else they needed to get them through a full shift of work. They had no idea they were all about to die. They were all going to die because they had committed the unforgivable sin; they had allowed their security to be breached and the company’s secrets had been exposed. They had now become a liability so the employees and this entire facility needed to be erased. As it turned out, that was the specialty of the two men from the van.The explosives they were using was an advanced version of “tritonal”, which was a mixture of aluminum powder and TNT. It had the same lethal blast radius (150 yards) of the military’s MOAB (Massive Ordinance Air Blast bomb). The MOAB bomb could devastate an entire city block. But where the MOAB weighed nine and a half tons and was the length of a bus, their device fit neatly into the back of their stolen van.After they armed the bomb, they got to the minimum safe distance before setting it off. The bomb was a specially designed, two stage marvel of destructive power. The first stage of the device would launch a bunker busting projectile up through the floor and would reach as high as the third floor before exploding. The resulting fire would incenerate everything inside. Then they would set off the secondary device, the MOAB to collapse what was left of the building.***The blast was enormous and within minutes the four story toy factory was reduced to fire and rubble. The blast tore through nearby buildings including the one that was being used as a surveillance post by the agency. Only one of the agents, the one lucky enough to be sleeping in the back at the time of the blast survived. April 25, 2013
Zombies are Real or Are they? (an eyewitness account)
Hero Jenkins --- 4/25/13
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Zombies are Real or are they?(An eyewitness account)
We have all heard that zombies are not real. But what would you do if that lifelong belief that zombies do not and cannot exist was challenged by evidence right in front of your eyes. Read this true story and tell me what you think.It was one of those nights, a dark, cloudy, overcast night. There was no moon visible and the streetlights weren’t nearly enough. The wind was blowing just enough to move branches and bushes to where an active imagination could conjure just about anything it wanted.Late one night, on a night like this, two rookie police officers were dispatched to check on a young woman, a newlywed, who was home alone. Her husband, who was travelling and nervous about leaving her, had been unable to contact her. When the officers entered the house they found the woman lying on the couch in the living room… she was nude and from a distance she appeared to be dead. But that discovery is not the end of this story, in fact it is only the beginning. So now you are wondering… what could this have to do with zombies? Read on and find out.The call from the dispatcher was for the officers to investigate what is known as “suspicious circumstances”. What that means is that something out of the ordinary is going on but nobody really knows what. In this case a businessman was away from his new bride, on the other side of the country. He has been unable to contact his wife all day and he is scared and desperate for someone go check it out. Fearing the worst the businessman had called the police.There are a couple of things you should know before continuing with this story. Most rookie police officers are assigned to the graveyard shift (midnight or so to 7 am when normal people are asleep). Most have never worked it before which means they are ill-equipped to deal with the inevitable effects of sleep deprivation. Add to the mix that these particular officers had just spent their day off watching a “Dawn of the Dead” marathon. The officers arrived and immediately headed for the shadows. They made their approach quietly while shrouded in darkness. Their destination was a townhouse, one of those where the carport was in the rear and just off a common driveway. Beyond the carport was a rickety old wooden fence and beyond that was a small yard and then a sliding glass door that lead to the kitchen/dining area. The back gate was unlatched and was slowly being pushed back and forth. The sliding glass door had been pushed and left open, the curtains were being whipped about by the wind. Something bad had happened here! They could feel it in their bones. There is no way the woman is still alive. Nobody leaves their sliding glass door open on a night like this… nobody!Both officers removed their guns from their holsters as they crept through the gate and across the yard. When they reached the sliding door, the first officer (let’s call him Eddie) used the wall for cover while the second officer (we’ll call him Frank) grabbed the wall on the other side of the door.Eddie peeked into the townhouse. As expected he was looking into the kitchen. It was a small townhouse and he could see most of the living room, a hallway to the right and some of the bedroom beyond. The interior was dark and deathly still. Nothing moved, except the curtains on the far side of the living room as they were gently tossed about by the wind.Both officers eased into the kitchen and after they crossed the room they took up positions behind the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Just then the moon peeked out and bathed the interior with an eerie almost florescent blue glow. Both officers turned off their flashlights preferring the natural light. When their eyes adjusted… they saw her. She was face up on the couch and she appeared to be dead.“Somebody needs to check her pulse, to make sure she is dead,” Eddie whispered.“OK… you go ahead… I’ll cover you,” Frank replied immediately.“You go,” Eddie whispered back. “I hate touching dead bodies.”“Oh, and I do?” Frank whispered back angrily. “Besides, I checked the last one.”He was right about a week ago they had been sent to check on an elderly gentleman who had not been seen by neighbors for three days. They found him dead in the recliner with the remote still in his hand.Eddie relented and crept forward. He walked slowly being careful not to make noise on the creaky wood floor. With each step he got closer and everything he saw confirmed in his mind that she was in fact dead. She was a young woman mid twenties or so if he had to guess. She probably would have been considered pretty, that is, of course, if she wasn’t dead. She was thin and fit, but her skin was a creepy, ghostly, blue/pale color. Most likely due to lividity which, happens to bodies that have been dead for any period of time. Lividity is caused when gravity begins to pull the now un-circulating blood down to the lower extremities. Yep… she was definitely dead.The moon was darting in and out of the clouds so the available light eerily came and went. There was enough ambient light though so he held off on using his flashlight. He actually preferred not to use his flashlights in a situation like this because the flashlights tended to ruin his night vision. Another step, Eddie noticed that she didn’t appear to be breathing, another confirmation that she was dead.He took a step closer; she passed gas, which was also not unusual… dead bodies did that from time to time. It was gross, but it happens. Eddie could make out a number of sores and blisters on the body. He also noted what could have been bruises on her face, chest and legs. Could be signs of a struggle,he reasoned. Eddie was close enough and so he slowly extended his hand intending to touch her carotid artery and check her pulse. He glanced nervously back at Frank. Frank nodded reassuringly. “Don’t worry partner, I got your back.” His look said. Eddie turned back to the woman and his fingers touched her neck. It was at that moment the dead woman’s eyes snapped open. She sat up on the couch and started screaming. Eddie freaked out his brain was having trouble reconciling what his eyes were seeing. From the doorway in the kitchen Frank started screaming too, “shoot her, she’s a zombie!” He shouted.Eddie had jumped back his flashlight was on now and it was trained on the zombie, so was Frank’s from back in the kitchen.The zombie jumped to her feet and was shifting her gaze between the two officers. She just stood there, her lifeless pale/blue skin highlighted only by blisters and boils. Her hair, in clumps shot straight out from her head and was as wild and angry as that maniacal expression on her face. Then the zombie started screaming again. It was one of those high-pitched screams that could scramble your brain and make your ears, nose and eyes bleed. “She’s a zombie… shoot her in the head!” Frank shouted. Eddie was still frozen as everything he had just learned from all of those zombie movies clashed with what reasonableness was still left in his head. “Shoot! Shoot!” Frank shouted.He was right. Everybody knows you are supposed to shoot zombies in the head. That’s the only way to stop em. And she was a zombie… wasn’t she? I mean she was dead just a second ago wasn’t she?The standoff ended when the naked female zombie ran from the living room to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Eddie retreated to his original position opposite Frank in the kitchen.“Damn it!” Frank shouted. “You let her get away!”“You could have shot her! If you’re so sure she’s a zombie, why didn’t you shoot her!” Eddie fired back.Before Frank could answer the bedroom door cracked open and a trembling voice asked, “who are you and why are you in my house?”It turned out that she really wasn’t a zombie. When her husband left on his business trip she decided to surprise him when he returned with a full body tan. But she had drunk a little too much wine and had fallen asleep in the sun. She had been severely sunburned (which accounted for the sores and blisters). She was burned so bad that it hurt her to move. So she lathered herself up with some kind of lotion designed for severe sunburn (which accounted for the pale blue color of her skin). She had taken a couple of Vicodin, which was left over from recent root canal surgery. And then she passed out on the couch. She never heard the phone ring. She didn’t realize that she had left the door open. She had no idea how the gate had gotten open. But the latch was faulty so we guessed it was the wind. The morale to this story is to be careful what you fill your mind with. Zombie movies are harmless entertainment until you have that perfect storm where you have watched too many of them and find yourself sleep deprived and confronted with an extreme circumstances. In this perfect storm your mind allows you to consider that the impossible could happen. Like zombies can really exist. Can you imagine these officers trying to explain why they shot this woman in the head? Would the defense: “Well Sarge, I thought she was a zombie,” hold up in the light of day once the fog has cleared? Of course not!So please for everyone’s sake… don’t watch zombie movies or ghost stories late at night if you are taking medication or if you are crazy or just sleep deprived. It can cloud your judgment and cause you to think that perhaps zombies are real when everyone knows that there is no such thing as zombies… just sayin?#af-form-384748288 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:98%;display:block;float:none;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body a{color:#2C4E7F;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#2C4E7F;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body label.previewLabel{display:block;float:none;text-align:left;width:auto;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:inherit;background-image:none;color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-footer{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:top;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-header{padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:bottom;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode .bodyText{padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:2px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-standards .af-element{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .bodyText p{margin:1em 0;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{background-color:#2c4e7f;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{width:auto;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer{text-align:right;} #af-form-384748288 body,#af-form-384748288 dl,#af-form-384748288 dt,#af-form-384748288 dd,#af-form-384748288 h1,#af-form-384748288 h2,#af-form-384748288 h3,#af-form-384748288 h4,#af-form-384748288 h5,#af-form-384748288 h6,#af-form-384748288 pre,#af-form-384748288 code,#af-form-384748288 fieldset,#af-form-384748288 legend,#af-form-384748288 blockquote,#af-form-384748288 th,#af-form-384748288 td{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 submit,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{float:none;position:static;margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 div{margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 fieldset{border:0;} #af-form-384748288 form,#af-form-384748288 textarea,.af-form-wrapper,.af-form-close-button,#af-form-384748288 img{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;background-color:none;border:none;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select{font-size:100%;} #af-form-384748288 p{color:inherit;} #af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 table{border-collapse:collapse;border-spacing:0;} #af-form-384748288 ul,#af-form-384748288 ol{list-style-image:none;list-style-position:outside;list-style-type:disc;padding-left:40px;} #af-form-384748288,#af-form-384748288 .quirksMode{width:418px;} #af-form-384748288.af-quirksMode{overflow-x:hidden;} #af-form-384748288{background-color:#F0F0F0;border-color:#EEEEEE;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288{display:block;} #af-form-384748288{overflow:hidden;} .af-body .af-textWrap{text-align:left;} .af-body input.image{border:none!important;} .af-body input.submit,.af-body input.image,.af-form .af-element input.button{float:none!important;} .af-body input.text{width:100%;float:none;padding:2px!important;} .af-body.af-standards input.submit{padding:4px 12px;} .af-clear{clear:both;} .af-element label{text-align:left;display:block;float:left;} .af-element{padding:5px 0;} .af-form-wrapper{text-indent:0;} .af-form{text-align:left;margin:auto;} .af-header,.af-footer{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0;padding:10px;} .af-quirksMode .af-element{padding-left:0!important;padding-right:0!important;} .lbl-right .af-element label{text-align:right;} body { }
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Zombies are Real or are they?(An eyewitness account)
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We have all heard that zombies are not real. But what would you do if that lifelong belief that zombies do not and cannot exist was challenged by evidence right in front of your eyes. Read this true story and tell me what you think.It was one of those nights, a dark, cloudy, overcast night. There was no moon visible and the streetlights weren’t nearly enough. The wind was blowing just enough to move branches and bushes to where an active imagination could conjure just about anything it wanted.Late one night, on a night like this, two rookie police officers were dispatched to check on a young woman, a newlywed, who was home alone. Her husband, who was travelling and nervous about leaving her, had been unable to contact her. When the officers entered the house they found the woman lying on the couch in the living room… she was nude and from a distance she appeared to be dead. But that discovery is not the end of this story, in fact it is only the beginning. So now you are wondering… what could this have to do with zombies? Read on and find out.The call from the dispatcher was for the officers to investigate what is known as “suspicious circumstances”. What that means is that something out of the ordinary is going on but nobody really knows what. In this case a businessman was away from his new bride, on the other side of the country. He has been unable to contact his wife all day and he is scared and desperate for someone go check it out. Fearing the worst the businessman had called the police.There are a couple of things you should know before continuing with this story. Most rookie police officers are assigned to the graveyard shift (midnight or so to 7 am when normal people are asleep). Most have never worked it before which means they are ill-equipped to deal with the inevitable effects of sleep deprivation. Add to the mix that these particular officers had just spent their day off watching a “Dawn of the Dead” marathon. The officers arrived and immediately headed for the shadows. They made their approach quietly while shrouded in darkness. Their destination was a townhouse, one of those where the carport was in the rear and just off a common driveway. Beyond the carport was a rickety old wooden fence and beyond that was a small yard and then a sliding glass door that lead to the kitchen/dining area. The back gate was unlatched and was slowly being pushed back and forth. The sliding glass door had been pushed and left open, the curtains were being whipped about by the wind. Something bad had happened here! They could feel it in their bones. There is no way the woman is still alive. Nobody leaves their sliding glass door open on a night like this… nobody!Both officers removed their guns from their holsters as they crept through the gate and across the yard. When they reached the sliding door, the first officer (let’s call him Eddie) used the wall for cover while the second officer (we’ll call him Frank) grabbed the wall on the other side of the door.Eddie peeked into the townhouse. As expected he was looking into the kitchen. It was a small townhouse and he could see most of the living room, a hallway to the right and some of the bedroom beyond. The interior was dark and deathly still. Nothing moved, except the curtains on the far side of the living room as they were gently tossed about by the wind.Both officers eased into the kitchen and after they crossed the room they took up positions behind the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Just then the moon peeked out and bathed the interior with an eerie almost florescent blue glow. Both officers turned off their flashlights preferring the natural light. When their eyes adjusted… they saw her. She was face up on the couch and she appeared to be dead.“Somebody needs to check her pulse, to make sure she is dead,” Eddie whispered.“OK… you go ahead… I’ll cover you,” Frank replied immediately.“You go,” Eddie whispered back. “I hate touching dead bodies.”“Oh, and I do?” Frank whispered back angrily. “Besides, I checked the last one.”He was right about a week ago they had been sent to check on an elderly gentleman who had not been seen by neighbors for three days. They found him dead in the recliner with the remote still in his hand.Eddie relented and crept forward. He walked slowly being careful not to make noise on the creaky wood floor. With each step he got closer and everything he saw confirmed in his mind that she was in fact dead. She was a young woman mid twenties or so if he had to guess. She probably would have been considered pretty, that is, of course, if she wasn’t dead. She was thin and fit, but her skin was a creepy, ghostly, blue/pale color. Most likely due to lividity which, happens to bodies that have been dead for any period of time. Lividity is caused when gravity begins to pull the now un-circulating blood down to the lower extremities. Yep… she was definitely dead.The moon was darting in and out of the clouds so the available light eerily came and went. There was enough ambient light though so he held off on using his flashlight. He actually preferred not to use his flashlights in a situation like this because the flashlights tended to ruin his night vision. Another step, Eddie noticed that she didn’t appear to be breathing, another confirmation that she was dead.He took a step closer; she passed gas, which was also not unusual… dead bodies did that from time to time. It was gross, but it happens. Eddie could make out a number of sores and blisters on the body. He also noted what could have been bruises on her face, chest and legs. Could be signs of a struggle,he reasoned. Eddie was close enough and so he slowly extended his hand intending to touch her carotid artery and check her pulse. He glanced nervously back at Frank. Frank nodded reassuringly. “Don’t worry partner, I got your back.” His look said. Eddie turned back to the woman and his fingers touched her neck. It was at that moment the dead woman’s eyes snapped open. She sat up on the couch and started screaming. Eddie freaked out his brain was having trouble reconciling what his eyes were seeing. From the doorway in the kitchen Frank started screaming too, “shoot her, she’s a zombie!” He shouted.Eddie had jumped back his flashlight was on now and it was trained on the zombie, so was Frank’s from back in the kitchen.The zombie jumped to her feet and was shifting her gaze between the two officers. She just stood there, her lifeless pale/blue skin highlighted only by blisters and boils. Her hair, in clumps shot straight out from her head and was as wild and angry as that maniacal expression on her face. Then the zombie started screaming again. It was one of those high-pitched screams that could scramble your brain and make your ears, nose and eyes bleed. “She’s a zombie… shoot her in the head!” Frank shouted. Eddie was still frozen as everything he had just learned from all of those zombie movies clashed with what reasonableness was still left in his head. “Shoot! Shoot!” Frank shouted.He was right. Everybody knows you are supposed to shoot zombies in the head. That’s the only way to stop em. And she was a zombie… wasn’t she? I mean she was dead just a second ago wasn’t she?The standoff ended when the naked female zombie ran from the living room to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Eddie retreated to his original position opposite Frank in the kitchen.“Damn it!” Frank shouted. “You let her get away!”“You could have shot her! If you’re so sure she’s a zombie, why didn’t you shoot her!” Eddie fired back.Before Frank could answer the bedroom door cracked open and a trembling voice asked, “who are you and why are you in my house?”It turned out that she really wasn’t a zombie. When her husband left on his business trip she decided to surprise him when he returned with a full body tan. But she had drunk a little too much wine and had fallen asleep in the sun. She had been severely sunburned (which accounted for the sores and blisters). She was burned so bad that it hurt her to move. So she lathered herself up with some kind of lotion designed for severe sunburn (which accounted for the pale blue color of her skin). She had taken a couple of Vicodin, which was left over from recent root canal surgery. And then she passed out on the couch. She never heard the phone ring. She didn’t realize that she had left the door open. She had no idea how the gate had gotten open. But the latch was faulty so we guessed it was the wind. The morale to this story is to be careful what you fill your mind with. Zombie movies are harmless entertainment until you have that perfect storm where you have watched too many of them and find yourself sleep deprived and confronted with an extreme circumstances. In this perfect storm your mind allows you to consider that the impossible could happen. Like zombies can really exist. Can you imagine these officers trying to explain why they shot this woman in the head? Would the defense: “Well Sarge, I thought she was a zombie,” hold up in the light of day once the fog has cleared? Of course not!So please for everyone’s sake… don’t watch zombie movies or ghost stories late at night if you are taking medication or if you are crazy or just sleep deprived. It can cloud your judgment and cause you to think that perhaps zombies are real when everyone knows that there is no such thing as zombies… just sayin?#af-form-384748288 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:98%;display:block;float:none;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body a{color:#2C4E7F;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#2C4E7F;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body label.previewLabel{display:block;float:none;text-align:left;width:auto;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:inherit;background-image:none;color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-footer{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:top;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-header{padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:bottom;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode .bodyText{padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:2px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-standards .af-element{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .bodyText p{margin:1em 0;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{background-color:#2c4e7f;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{width:auto;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer{text-align:right;} #af-form-384748288 body,#af-form-384748288 dl,#af-form-384748288 dt,#af-form-384748288 dd,#af-form-384748288 h1,#af-form-384748288 h2,#af-form-384748288 h3,#af-form-384748288 h4,#af-form-384748288 h5,#af-form-384748288 h6,#af-form-384748288 pre,#af-form-384748288 code,#af-form-384748288 fieldset,#af-form-384748288 legend,#af-form-384748288 blockquote,#af-form-384748288 th,#af-form-384748288 td{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 submit,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{float:none;position:static;margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 div{margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 fieldset{border:0;} #af-form-384748288 form,#af-form-384748288 textarea,.af-form-wrapper,.af-form-close-button,#af-form-384748288 img{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;background-color:none;border:none;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select{font-size:100%;} #af-form-384748288 p{color:inherit;} #af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 table{border-collapse:collapse;border-spacing:0;} #af-form-384748288 ul,#af-form-384748288 ol{list-style-image:none;list-style-position:outside;list-style-type:disc;padding-left:40px;} #af-form-384748288,#af-form-384748288 .quirksMode{width:418px;} #af-form-384748288.af-quirksMode{overflow-x:hidden;} #af-form-384748288{background-color:#F0F0F0;border-color:#EEEEEE;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288{display:block;} #af-form-384748288{overflow:hidden;} .af-body .af-textWrap{text-align:left;} .af-body input.image{border:none!important;} .af-body input.submit,.af-body input.image,.af-form .af-element input.button{float:none!important;} .af-body input.text{width:100%;float:none;padding:2px!important;} .af-body.af-standards input.submit{padding:4px 12px;} .af-clear{clear:both;} .af-element label{text-align:left;display:block;float:left;} .af-element{padding:5px 0;} .af-form-wrapper{text-indent:0;} .af-form{text-align:left;margin:auto;} .af-header,.af-footer{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0;padding:10px;} .af-quirksMode .af-element{padding-left:0!important;padding-right:0!important;} .lbl-right .af-element label{text-align:right;} body { } Not a subscriber? 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April 21, 2013
Chapter Four: Subject Number Five
Hero Jenkins --- 4/22/13
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Chapter FourFrom his vantage point on the eighty-fifth floor, they all looked like germs to him. He had watched some of the deadliest viruses known to man through a microscope as they did their work… devouring and contaminating all that they came into contact with. That’s how the rest of humanity looked to him from his window high above.
For decades he and people like him, the elite, have separated themselves from the rest of them. Marrying only with a few select families. Breeding only with the richest and most powerful… thus limiting the gene pool to only the pure. By the time he was born their forefather’s limited knowledge of the human genome had already doomed them all to a life apart from the rest of humanity. He couldn’t bring himself to call the results a handicap, but there were side effects to limiting the gene pool to the few thousand families of the elite. The most obvious were the physical abnormalities that were just now starting to show. Most prominent of those were the children that were being born with only four toes. Still the biggest abnormality was one that was not visibly obvious. It was a weakened immune system that has left them more susceptible to common diseases and infections. Infections that are carried in abundance by the masses below. He would never admit it, but one of the main reasons that his company even formed its genetic research division was to try to find a way to reintegrate his and the families like his back into the world. But the genes of the masses were like poison, ravenous in their assault on the tissue samples taken from his family. Every attempt had failed; every test subject had died a horrible painful death.Nathan Sloane was the CEO and the genius behind the rise of Sloane Industries. Yet he was born into a world with almost no ability to fight off the most common virus. A world where a cold could kill and a scratch could cost a limb. Forty of the eighty-five floors below him are dedicated to providing for him and his family. They lived in a bubble, having contact only with others who were also forced to live in bubbles… less than half a percent of the world’s population. Together they controlled 80% of the world’s wealth, but their world was limited to their towers and what other towers that were within range of the helicopters on their roofs.Nathan Sloane had never tasted alcohol, he ate meat once in his youth, but his digestive system could not tolerate it. For almost all of his life he has been on the strictest vegan diet. No sugar, no salt, no coffee or soft drinks. His food was grown hydroponically right there in the building. It had to be radiated and washed multiple times before it could reach his table. He survived on a diet of fruit, vegetables, nuts and grains.His drinking water, even the water for his shower was highly filtered and processed to a perfect PH balance on one of the floors below. The air they breathed was also highly processed with redundant filters. The interior climate was maintained at 68 degrees regardless of the weather outside. Access to the upper floors by the uninvited was strictly forbidden. A prohibition enforced by a platoon of highly trained security personnel supported by state of the art electronics. He looked out the window at the masses below knowing that he could never walk amongst them. He made decisions daily that would set the course of their lives and none of them even knew he existed. He knew little of how they lived, as a result he had less empathy than one would have for ants in an ant farm. He and those like him lived lives separated from the rest, hermetically sealed from any physical contact with the world forever. Which explained why someone like him could conceive of something like his creature because in his mind, any conceivable repercussions could never affect him.Nathan Sloane checked his watch. Though the hour was late, it was almost time for the meeting to start. He had called an emergency executive board meeting. The jackals, his executive board, were downstairs at this moment going through decontamination procedures. They would hold their meeting with all but one, him, dressed in bulky bio-quarantine suits. It had been a rough month for his company. The security at one of his facilities had been breached and one of his most promising subjects had been stolen. The first four had been dismal failures, but Number Five had been a triumph of genetic manipulation. He was the pride of the program until someone had just waltzed in and taken Number Five away from him. But tonight things were looking up. His team in Los Angeles had retrieved his monster and Number Five was already on a plane to the East coast. He had dispatched two of his most trusted operatives to destroy the facility that had built his monster. By destroying the facility and everyone in it, there would be no evidence of his crimes. So he had called this meeting to make sure that they were on the same page, but additionally to make sure that a security breach such as this would never happen again. ***The police officers and the emergency room doctor hovered just outside of Kade’s stall and talked. Randy Simmons stood by her bed. Brandiss watched him as he pretended to be oblivious to the presence of these men, though it was obvious that he hung on their every word.“As you can see,” the doctor explained, “she is in no condition to make a statement.” The officers peeked in and reluctantly nodded.The doctor and the officers talked for a few minutes and then the officers left the emergency room vowing to return when she was lucid.As soon as the doctor and the officers were gone, Brandiss saw Kade’s eyes pop open. She had been awake the whole time.“I was able to get Jeff out of their facility,” Kade said in a hushed voice. “I tried to reason with him and I know I was close to a breakthrough but for every step forward we took three steps back… he was too far gone in the procedure… he turned on me.”Kade was talking through clenched teeth. The bandage wrapped around her head was a factor, still she was being careful not to move her mouth too much and risk tearing open her stitches in her cheek. Mr. Simmons glanced around cautiously to confirm that she had not been overheard before he answered. He had a stuttered clipped way of speaking that Brandiss always found annoying.“I know… at least, I-I figured as much,” Mr. Simmons said. “If only, if only I had been there…”“It wouldn’t have made any difference, he was so strong!”“When you missed your check-in, I feared the worst.”“I’m sorry… he would freak out every time I tried to use the phone. We had to keep moving, we had to stay ahead of the men who were tracking us so we kept changing motels. We had just landed in a new place and I had left him for only a minute to go get us some food. I tried to call you, but there was no answer. I had just made it back to the motel… something had changed; I thought things were going fine. But… in the end he was too far gone… he lost it daddy. He knocked me out and when I woke up he was cutting on me… he cut my face.” Her voice started to crack. “I think he was planning to eat me.”It was quiet in the stall while Kade composed herself. After a few moments Mr. Simmons spoke again. “I’m sorry about Brandiss,” he said, “but it had been days since I had heard from you. I didn’t know where else to turn.”“Don’t worry about it dad… you did good, still it was hard seeing him again.” “How did you get away from him?”“I always kept a hypo available to use on Jeff but I never got the chance. I used it on Brandiss when he was distracted. He should be out for hours.”They continued talking but Brandiss had stopped caring. He didn’t understand what their conversation meant, but he did come away with an understanding that he had been used again and it broke his heart… again.He had to get out of there. There was a woman in the stall on the opposite side and when they wheeled away to x-ray, he saw an opportunity. Brandiss kicked the gurney startling old brown teeth awake. The old man started cursing, then he tried to get out of bed and fell flat on his face. Brandiss slipped into the vacated stall next door. While the doctors were distracted with brown teeth, Brandiss took the opportunity to slip away.***
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Chapter FourFrom his vantage point on the eighty-fifth floor, they all looked like germs to him. He had watched some of the deadliest viruses known to man through a microscope as they did their work… devouring and contaminating all that they came into contact with. That’s how the rest of humanity looked to him from his window high above.
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For decades he and people like him, the elite, have separated themselves from the rest of them. Marrying only with a few select families. Breeding only with the richest and most powerful… thus limiting the gene pool to only the pure. By the time he was born their forefather’s limited knowledge of the human genome had already doomed them all to a life apart from the rest of humanity. He couldn’t bring himself to call the results a handicap, but there were side effects to limiting the gene pool to the few thousand families of the elite. The most obvious were the physical abnormalities that were just now starting to show. Most prominent of those were the children that were being born with only four toes. Still the biggest abnormality was one that was not visibly obvious. It was a weakened immune system that has left them more susceptible to common diseases and infections. Infections that are carried in abundance by the masses below. He would never admit it, but one of the main reasons that his company even formed its genetic research division was to try to find a way to reintegrate his and the families like his back into the world. But the genes of the masses were like poison, ravenous in their assault on the tissue samples taken from his family. Every attempt had failed; every test subject had died a horrible painful death.Nathan Sloane was the CEO and the genius behind the rise of Sloane Industries. Yet he was born into a world with almost no ability to fight off the most common virus. A world where a cold could kill and a scratch could cost a limb. Forty of the eighty-five floors below him are dedicated to providing for him and his family. They lived in a bubble, having contact only with others who were also forced to live in bubbles… less than half a percent of the world’s population. Together they controlled 80% of the world’s wealth, but their world was limited to their towers and what other towers that were within range of the helicopters on their roofs.Nathan Sloane had never tasted alcohol, he ate meat once in his youth, but his digestive system could not tolerate it. For almost all of his life he has been on the strictest vegan diet. No sugar, no salt, no coffee or soft drinks. His food was grown hydroponically right there in the building. It had to be radiated and washed multiple times before it could reach his table. He survived on a diet of fruit, vegetables, nuts and grains.His drinking water, even the water for his shower was highly filtered and processed to a perfect PH balance on one of the floors below. The air they breathed was also highly processed with redundant filters. The interior climate was maintained at 68 degrees regardless of the weather outside. Access to the upper floors by the uninvited was strictly forbidden. A prohibition enforced by a platoon of highly trained security personnel supported by state of the art electronics. He looked out the window at the masses below knowing that he could never walk amongst them. He made decisions daily that would set the course of their lives and none of them even knew he existed. He knew little of how they lived, as a result he had less empathy than one would have for ants in an ant farm. He and those like him lived lives separated from the rest, hermetically sealed from any physical contact with the world forever. Which explained why someone like him could conceive of something like his creature because in his mind, any conceivable repercussions could never affect him.Nathan Sloane checked his watch. Though the hour was late, it was almost time for the meeting to start. He had called an emergency executive board meeting. The jackals, his executive board, were downstairs at this moment going through decontamination procedures. They would hold their meeting with all but one, him, dressed in bulky bio-quarantine suits. It had been a rough month for his company. The security at one of his facilities had been breached and one of his most promising subjects had been stolen. The first four had been dismal failures, but Number Five had been a triumph of genetic manipulation. He was the pride of the program until someone had just waltzed in and taken Number Five away from him. But tonight things were looking up. His team in Los Angeles had retrieved his monster and Number Five was already on a plane to the East coast. He had dispatched two of his most trusted operatives to destroy the facility that had built his monster. By destroying the facility and everyone in it, there would be no evidence of his crimes. So he had called this meeting to make sure that they were on the same page, but additionally to make sure that a security breach such as this would never happen again. ***The police officers and the emergency room doctor hovered just outside of Kade’s stall and talked. Randy Simmons stood by her bed. Brandiss watched him as he pretended to be oblivious to the presence of these men, though it was obvious that he hung on their every word.“As you can see,” the doctor explained, “she is in no condition to make a statement.” The officers peeked in and reluctantly nodded.The doctor and the officers talked for a few minutes and then the officers left the emergency room vowing to return when she was lucid.As soon as the doctor and the officers were gone, Brandiss saw Kade’s eyes pop open. She had been awake the whole time.“I was able to get Jeff out of their facility,” Kade said in a hushed voice. “I tried to reason with him and I know I was close to a breakthrough but for every step forward we took three steps back… he was too far gone in the procedure… he turned on me.”Kade was talking through clenched teeth. The bandage wrapped around her head was a factor, still she was being careful not to move her mouth too much and risk tearing open her stitches in her cheek. Mr. Simmons glanced around cautiously to confirm that she had not been overheard before he answered. He had a stuttered clipped way of speaking that Brandiss always found annoying.“I know… at least, I-I figured as much,” Mr. Simmons said. “If only, if only I had been there…”“It wouldn’t have made any difference, he was so strong!”“When you missed your check-in, I feared the worst.”“I’m sorry… he would freak out every time I tried to use the phone. We had to keep moving, we had to stay ahead of the men who were tracking us so we kept changing motels. We had just landed in a new place and I had left him for only a minute to go get us some food. I tried to call you, but there was no answer. I had just made it back to the motel… something had changed; I thought things were going fine. But… in the end he was too far gone… he lost it daddy. He knocked me out and when I woke up he was cutting on me… he cut my face.” Her voice started to crack. “I think he was planning to eat me.”It was quiet in the stall while Kade composed herself. After a few moments Mr. Simmons spoke again. “I’m sorry about Brandiss,” he said, “but it had been days since I had heard from you. I didn’t know where else to turn.”“Don’t worry about it dad… you did good, still it was hard seeing him again.” “How did you get away from him?”“I always kept a hypo available to use on Jeff but I never got the chance. I used it on Brandiss when he was distracted. He should be out for hours.”They continued talking but Brandiss had stopped caring. He didn’t understand what their conversation meant, but he did come away with an understanding that he had been used again and it broke his heart… again.He had to get out of there. There was a woman in the stall on the opposite side and when they wheeled away to x-ray, he saw an opportunity. Brandiss kicked the gurney startling old brown teeth awake. The old man started cursing, then he tried to get out of bed and fell flat on his face. Brandiss slipped into the vacated stall next door. While the doctors were distracted with brown teeth, Brandiss took the opportunity to slip away.***
Chapter Four: Number Five
Hero Jenkins --- 4/22/13
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Chapter FourFrom his vantage point on the eighty-fifth floor, they all looked like germs to him. He had watched some of the deadliest viruses known to man through a microscope as they did their work… devouring and contaminating all that they came into contact with. That’s how the rest of humanity looked to him from his window high above.
For decades he and people like him, the elite, have separated themselves from the rest of them. Marrying only with a few select families. Breeding only with the richest and most powerful… thus limiting the gene pool to only the pure. By the time he was born their forefather’s limited knowledge of the human genome had already doomed them all to a life apart from the rest of humanity. He couldn’t bring himself to call the results a handicap, but there were side effects to limiting the gene pool to the few thousand families of the elite. The most obvious were the physical abnormalities that were just now starting to show. Most prominent of those were the children that were being born with only four toes. Still the biggest abnormality was one that was not visibly obvious. It was a weakened immune system that has left them more susceptible to common diseases and infections. Infections that are carried in abundance by the masses below. He would never admit it, but one of the main reasons that his company even formed its genetic research division was to try to find a way to reintegrate his and the families like his back into the world. But the genes of the masses were like poison, ravenous in their assault on the tissue samples taken from his family. Every attempt had failed; every test subject had died a horrible painful death.Nathan Sloane was the CEO and the genius behind the rise of Sloane Industries. Yet he was born into a world with almost no ability to fight off the most common virus. A world where a cold could kill and a scratch could cost a limb. Forty of the eighty-five floors below him are dedicated to providing for him and his family. They lived in a bubble, having contact only with others who were also forced to live in bubbles… less than half a percent of the world’s population. Together they controlled 80% of the world’s wealth, but their world was limited to their towers and what other towers that were within range of the helicopters on their roofs.Nathan Sloane had never tasted alcohol, he ate meat once in his youth, but his digestive system could not tolerate it. For almost all of his life he has been on the strictest vegan diet. No sugar, no salt, no coffee or soft drinks. His food was grown hydroponically right there in the building. It had to be radiated and washed multiple times before it could reach his table. He survived on a diet of fruit, vegetables, nuts and grains.His drinking water, even the water for his shower was highly filtered and processed to a perfect PH balance on one of the floors below. The air they breathed was also highly processed with redundant filters. The interior climate was maintained at 68 degrees regardless of the weather outside. Access to the upper floors by the uninvited was strictly forbidden. A prohibition enforced by a platoon of highly trained security personnel supported by state of the art electronics. He looked out the window at the masses below knowing that he could never walk amongst them. He made decisions daily that would set the course of their lives and none of them even knew he existed. He knew little of how they lived, as a result he had less empathy than one would have for ants in an ant farm. He and those like him lived lives separated from the rest, hermetically sealed from any physical contact with the world forever. Which explained why someone like him could conceive of something like his creature because in his mind, any conceivable repercussions could never affect him.Nathan Sloane checked his watch. Though the hour was late, it was almost time for the meeting to start. He had called an emergency executive board meeting. The jackals, his executive board, were downstairs at this moment going through decontamination procedures. They would hold their meeting with all but one, him, dressed in bulky bio-quarantine suits. It had been a rough month for his company. The security at one of his facilities had been breached and one of his most promising subjects had been stolen. The first four had been dismal failures, but Number Five had been a triumph of genetic manipulation. He was the pride of the program until someone had just waltzed in and taken Number Five away from him. But tonight things were looking up. His team in Los Angeles had retrieved his monster and Number Five was already on a plane to the East coast. He had dispatched two of his most trusted operatives to destroy the facility that had built his monster. By destroying the facility and everyone in it, there would be no evidence of his crimes. So he had called this meeting to make sure that they were on the same page, but additionally to make sure that a security breach such as this would never happen again. ***The police officers and the emergency room doctor hovered just outside of Kade’s stall and talked. Randy Simmons stood by her bed. Brandiss watched him as he pretended to be oblivious to the presence of these men, though it was obvious that he hung on their every word.“As you can see,” the doctor explained, “she is in no condition to make a statement.” The officers peeked in and reluctantly nodded.The doctor and the officers talked for a few minutes and then the officers left the emergency room vowing to return when she was lucid.As soon as the doctor and the officers were gone, Brandiss saw Kade’s eyes pop open. She had been awake the whole time.“I was able to get Jeff out of their facility,” Kade said in a hushed voice. “I tried to reason with him and I know I was close to a breakthrough but for every step forward we took three steps back… he was too far gone in the procedure… he turned on me.”Kade was talking through clenched teeth. The bandage wrapped around her head was a factor, still she was being careful not to move her mouth too much and risk tearing open her stitches in her cheek. Mr. Simmons glanced around cautiously to confirm that she had not been overheard before he answered. He had a stuttered clipped way of speaking that Brandiss always found annoying.“I know… at least, I-I figured as much,” Mr. Simmons said. “If only, if only I had been there…”“It wouldn’t have made any difference, he was so strong!”“When you missed your check-in, I feared the worst.”“I’m sorry… he would freak out every time I tried to use the phone. We had to keep moving, we had to stay ahead of the men who were tracking us so we kept changing motels. We had just landed in a new place and I had left him for only a minute to go get us some food. I tried to call you, but there was no answer. I had just made it back to the motel… something had changed; I thought things were going fine. But… in the end he was too far gone… he lost it daddy. He knocked me out and when I woke up he was cutting on me… he cut my face.” Her voice started to crack. “I think he was planning to eat me.”It was quiet in the stall while Kade composed herself. After a few moments Mr. Simmons spoke again. “I’m sorry about Brandiss,” he said, “but it had been days since I had heard from you. I didn’t know where else to turn.”“Don’t worry about it dad… you did good, still it was hard seeing him again.” “How did you get away from him?”“I always kept a hypo available to use on Jeff but I never got the chance. I used it on Brandiss when he was distracted. He should be out for hours.”They continued talking but Brandiss had stopped caring. He didn’t understand what their conversation meant, but he did come away with an understanding that he had been used again and it broke his heart… again.He had to get out of there. There was a woman in the stall on the opposite side and when they wheeled away to x-ray, he saw an opportunity. Brandiss kicked the gurney startling old brown teeth awake. The old man started cursing, then he tried to get out of bed and fell flat on his face. Brandiss slipped into the vacated stall next door. While the doctors were distracted with brown teeth, Brandiss took the opportunity to slip away.***
Click here to go to our Facebook Page and "Like" us
Chapter FourFrom his vantage point on the eighty-fifth floor, they all looked like germs to him. He had watched some of the deadliest viruses known to man through a microscope as they did their work… devouring and contaminating all that they came into contact with. That’s how the rest of humanity looked to him from his window high above.
For decades he and people like him, the elite, have separated themselves from the rest of them. Marrying only with a few select families. Breeding only with the richest and most powerful… thus limiting the gene pool to only the pure. By the time he was born their forefather’s limited knowledge of the human genome had already doomed them all to a life apart from the rest of humanity. He couldn’t bring himself to call the results a handicap, but there were side effects to limiting the gene pool to the few thousand families of the elite. The most obvious were the physical abnormalities that were just now starting to show. Most prominent of those were the children that were being born with only four toes. Still the biggest abnormality was one that was not visibly obvious. It was a weakened immune system that has left them more susceptible to common diseases and infections. Infections that are carried in abundance by the masses below. He would never admit it, but one of the main reasons that his company even formed its genetic research division was to try to find a way to reintegrate his and the families like his back into the world. But the genes of the masses were like poison, ravenous in their assault on the tissue samples taken from his family. Every attempt had failed; every test subject had died a horrible painful death.Nathan Sloane was the CEO and the genius behind the rise of Sloane Industries. Yet he was born into a world with almost no ability to fight off the most common virus. A world where a cold could kill and a scratch could cost a limb. Forty of the eighty-five floors below him are dedicated to providing for him and his family. They lived in a bubble, having contact only with others who were also forced to live in bubbles… less than half a percent of the world’s population. Together they controlled 80% of the world’s wealth, but their world was limited to their towers and what other towers that were within range of the helicopters on their roofs.Nathan Sloane had never tasted alcohol, he ate meat once in his youth, but his digestive system could not tolerate it. For almost all of his life he has been on the strictest vegan diet. No sugar, no salt, no coffee or soft drinks. His food was grown hydroponically right there in the building. It had to be radiated and washed multiple times before it could reach his table. He survived on a diet of fruit, vegetables, nuts and grains.His drinking water, even the water for his shower was highly filtered and processed to a perfect PH balance on one of the floors below. The air they breathed was also highly processed with redundant filters. The interior climate was maintained at 68 degrees regardless of the weather outside. Access to the upper floors by the uninvited was strictly forbidden. A prohibition enforced by a platoon of highly trained security personnel supported by state of the art electronics. He looked out the window at the masses below knowing that he could never walk amongst them. He made decisions daily that would set the course of their lives and none of them even knew he existed. He knew little of how they lived, as a result he had less empathy than one would have for ants in an ant farm. He and those like him lived lives separated from the rest, hermetically sealed from any physical contact with the world forever. Which explained why someone like him could conceive of something like his creature because in his mind, any conceivable repercussions could never affect him.Nathan Sloane checked his watch. Though the hour was late, it was almost time for the meeting to start. He had called an emergency executive board meeting. The jackals, his executive board, were downstairs at this moment going through decontamination procedures. They would hold their meeting with all but one, him, dressed in bulky bio-quarantine suits. It had been a rough month for his company. The security at one of his facilities had been breached and one of his most promising subjects had been stolen. The first four had been dismal failures, but Number Five had been a triumph of genetic manipulation. He was the pride of the program until someone had just waltzed in and taken Number Five away from him. But tonight things were looking up. His team in Los Angeles had retrieved his monster and Number Five was already on a plane to the East coast. He had dispatched two of his most trusted operatives to destroy the facility that had built his monster. By destroying the facility and everyone in it, there would be no evidence of his crimes. So he had called this meeting to make sure that they were on the same page, but additionally to make sure that a security breach such as this would never happen again. ***The police officers and the emergency room doctor hovered just outside of Kade’s stall and talked. Randy Simmons stood by her bed. Brandiss watched him as he pretended to be oblivious to the presence of these men, though it was obvious that he hung on their every word.“As you can see,” the doctor explained, “she is in no condition to make a statement.” The officers peeked in and reluctantly nodded.The doctor and the officers talked for a few minutes and then the officers left the emergency room vowing to return when she was lucid.As soon as the doctor and the officers were gone, Brandiss saw Kade’s eyes pop open. She had been awake the whole time.“I was able to get Jeff out of their facility,” Kade said in a hushed voice. “I tried to reason with him and I know I was close to a breakthrough but for every step forward we took three steps back… he was too far gone in the procedure… he turned on me.”Kade was talking through clenched teeth. The bandage wrapped around her head was a factor, still she was being careful not to move her mouth too much and risk tearing open her stitches in her cheek. Mr. Simmons glanced around cautiously to confirm that she had not been overheard before he answered. He had a stuttered clipped way of speaking that Brandiss always found annoying.“I know… at least, I-I figured as much,” Mr. Simmons said. “If only, if only I had been there…”“It wouldn’t have made any difference, he was so strong!”“When you missed your check-in, I feared the worst.”“I’m sorry… he would freak out every time I tried to use the phone. We had to keep moving, we had to stay ahead of the men who were tracking us so we kept changing motels. We had just landed in a new place and I had left him for only a minute to go get us some food. I tried to call you, but there was no answer. I had just made it back to the motel… something had changed; I thought things were going fine. But… in the end he was too far gone… he lost it daddy. He knocked me out and when I woke up he was cutting on me… he cut my face.” Her voice started to crack. “I think he was planning to eat me.”It was quiet in the stall while Kade composed herself. After a few moments Mr. Simmons spoke again. “I’m sorry about Brandiss,” he said, “but it had been days since I had heard from you. I didn’t know where else to turn.”“Don’t worry about it dad… you did good, still it was hard seeing him again.” “How did you get away from him?”“I always kept a hypo available to use on Jeff but I never got the chance. I used it on Brandiss when he was distracted. He should be out for hours.”They continued talking but Brandiss had stopped caring. He didn’t understand what their conversation meant, but he did come away with an understanding that he had been used again and it broke his heart… again.He had to get out of there. There was a woman in the stall on the opposite side and when they wheeled away to x-ray, he saw an opportunity. Brandiss kicked the gurney startling old brown teeth awake. The old man started cursing, then he tried to get out of bed and fell flat on his face. Brandiss slipped into the vacated stall next door. While the doctors were distracted with brown teeth, Brandiss took the opportunity to slip away.***
April 18, 2013
The Hawaiian Refrigerator: Random Thoughts
Hero Jenkins --- 4/18/13
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Hawaiian Refrigerator
I was on the beach in Maui recently when I saw something truly remarkable. A “local” Hawaiian arrived with his wife, mother and young daughter. They had everything one would need for a barbeque except food, cooking utensils and coals for the fire. Yet they did not go hungry!The twenty something man obviously worked for one of the delivery companies, FedEx or UPS, I don’t want to say which. I knew this because he was still wearing his uniform and it was obvious he had just gotten off work. He was carrying only a diving mask and snorkel (no swim trunks, no swim fins). He took off his boots and stripped down to his work shorts, put on his mask and snorkel and then waded out into surf. Before long he disappeared from view. While he was gone I noticed that his family got busy. The wife cleaned the grill and then went and collected a couple of dried coconut shells and started the fire in the pit. His daughter and elderly mother got busy collecting dried Kiawe tree branches for the fire. My wife and I had been in Maui for a few days by this time. Since we arrived we had been driving past this lovely beach while travelling to and from the condo we were renting. We decided to take a break from our hectic sight seeing schedule and take advantage of one of the many public barbeque pits.We keep it simple. We stopped by the supermarket and picked up a slab of ribs, a few pieces of chicken and a couple ears of corn. My wife makes killer potato salad so we needed potatoes, mayonnaise, eggs, relish and onions. We also needed baked beans and barbeque sauce. We bought a few necessities besides the food. We needed charcoal, lighter fluid and matches. The metal grills needed to be cleaned, so I bought one of those combination scraper/brush tools. It took me a couple of trips to haul all of our goodies and equipment from the car in the parking lot to the pit and picnic area.My wife and I have a system. I haul all of the stuff, I run to the store to make last minute purchases (which turned out to be necessary because we needed tongs to flip the food on the grill and of course something to drink). I clean the grills and start the fire. And then I get to kick back and watch the master work. My wife is an excellent cook, so it makes no sense that I would try and interfere... Right?Once she gets the food on the grill we usually kick back, play cards or just enjoy the sand and the surf. Like I said, we keep it simple, or at least I thought we did until a “local” showed me what keeping it simple really was.But watching this man and his family got me thinking and being a writer, I got nosy. I asked around and I learned a few things. People who live on the islands call themselves “locals” as opposed to the rest of us who are "tourists". There is a sort of “mixed plate” (their words, not mine) when it comes to people who call modern Hawaii home. On this occasion, this local was probably Hawaiian, but he could have just as well been Tongan or from one of the other Polynesian islands. Locals call the ocean their "Refrigerator". I was struck by the fact that this local’s family got busy with their preparations to cook the food before there was food. You see it didn’t seem to be an issue of “IF” he would catch dinner, but “WHEN”. By the time he emerged from the ocean with a couple lobsters the fire was ready. His mother and daughter had spread out a blanket and grandma was keeping her granddaughter entertained by reading to her and playing games. The man handed the lobsters to his wife and then he picked up a spear and returned to the surf. He returned minutes later with a couple, maybe three fish on his spear, but he wasn’t done. After handing the fish off to the cook he walked over to the rocks and started prying off some sort of shellfish.
It was remarkable to me that he had the skill to just go out there and get dinner for his family. It was even more remarkable to me that, after working all day, (and lets face it parcel delivery is not an easy job) he was still physically able to go out and “catch” dinner. It was also worth noting he only took what his family could eat.The locals are very protective of their reef and ocean and in that instant I knew why. Fresh food from the sea is as natural to some of them as shopping at the market is for me. I learned something else in my inquiries. The ocean is dying due to pollution and over fishing. Commercialism is taking the fish from the sea faster than the sea can replace them. I wondered what that local would do when he could no longer catch fresh fish from the sea to feed his family. He wasn’t poor; he could afford to buy his fish and lobster from the supermarket. I think they just preferred their fish fresh and regardless of what the signs in the market say, it doesn’t get any fresher than that.What a shame it will be to see him in the supermarket behind me in the checkout line buying fish, farm raised in Taiwan and frozen for the trip to the market in Hawaii.
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Hawaiian Refrigerator
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I was on the beach in Maui recently when I saw something truly remarkable. A “local” Hawaiian arrived with his wife, mother and young daughter. They had everything one would need for a barbeque except food, cooking utensils and coals for the fire. Yet they did not go hungry!The twenty something man obviously worked for one of the delivery companies, FedEx or UPS, I don’t want to say which. I knew this because he was still wearing his uniform and it was obvious he had just gotten off work. He was carrying only a diving mask and snorkel (no swim trunks, no swim fins). He took off his boots and stripped down to his work shorts, put on his mask and snorkel and then waded out into surf. Before long he disappeared from view. While he was gone I noticed that his family got busy. The wife cleaned the grill and then went and collected a couple of dried coconut shells and started the fire in the pit. His daughter and elderly mother got busy collecting dried Kiawe tree branches for the fire. My wife and I had been in Maui for a few days by this time. Since we arrived we had been driving past this lovely beach while travelling to and from the condo we were renting. We decided to take a break from our hectic sight seeing schedule and take advantage of one of the many public barbeque pits.We keep it simple. We stopped by the supermarket and picked up a slab of ribs, a few pieces of chicken and a couple ears of corn. My wife makes killer potato salad so we needed potatoes, mayonnaise, eggs, relish and onions. We also needed baked beans and barbeque sauce. We bought a few necessities besides the food. We needed charcoal, lighter fluid and matches. The metal grills needed to be cleaned, so I bought one of those combination scraper/brush tools. It took me a couple of trips to haul all of our goodies and equipment from the car in the parking lot to the pit and picnic area.My wife and I have a system. I haul all of the stuff, I run to the store to make last minute purchases (which turned out to be necessary because we needed tongs to flip the food on the grill and of course something to drink). I clean the grills and start the fire. And then I get to kick back and watch the master work. My wife is an excellent cook, so it makes no sense that I would try and interfere... Right?Once she gets the food on the grill we usually kick back, play cards or just enjoy the sand and the surf. Like I said, we keep it simple, or at least I thought we did until a “local” showed me what keeping it simple really was.But watching this man and his family got me thinking and being a writer, I got nosy. I asked around and I learned a few things. People who live on the islands call themselves “locals” as opposed to the rest of us who are "tourists". There is a sort of “mixed plate” (their words, not mine) when it comes to people who call modern Hawaii home. On this occasion, this local was probably Hawaiian, but he could have just as well been Tongan or from one of the other Polynesian islands. Locals call the ocean their "Refrigerator". I was struck by the fact that this local’s family got busy with their preparations to cook the food before there was food. You see it didn’t seem to be an issue of “IF” he would catch dinner, but “WHEN”. By the time he emerged from the ocean with a couple lobsters the fire was ready. His mother and daughter had spread out a blanket and grandma was keeping her granddaughter entertained by reading to her and playing games. The man handed the lobsters to his wife and then he picked up a spear and returned to the surf. He returned minutes later with a couple, maybe three fish on his spear, but he wasn’t done. After handing the fish off to the cook he walked over to the rocks and started prying off some sort of shellfish.It was remarkable to me that he had the skill to just go out there and get dinner for his family. It was even more remarkable to me that, after working all day, (and lets face it parcel delivery is not an easy job) he was still physically able to go out and “catch” dinner. It was also worth noting he only took what his family could eat.The locals are very protective of their reef and ocean and in that instant I knew why. Fresh food from the sea is as natural to some of them as shopping at the market is for me. I learned something else in my inquiries. The ocean is dying due to pollution and over fishing. Commercialism is taking the fish from the sea faster than the sea can replace them. I wondered what that local would do when he could no longer catch fresh fish from the sea to feed his family. He wasn’t poor; he could afford to buy his fish and lobster from the supermarket. I think they just preferred their fish fresh and regardless of what the signs in the market say, it doesn’t get any fresher than that.What a shame it will be to see him in the supermarket behind me in the checkout line buying fish, farm raised in Taiwan and frozen for the trip to the market in Hawaii.
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April 15, 2013
Chapter Three: Subject Number Five
Hero Jenkins --- 4/15/13
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Chapter Three
The police were quick to arrive, next came the paramedics. Brandiss was just regaining consciousness and was still a little groggy so he would be the first to admit that he wasn’t at the top of his game. Nevertheless he told the officers what he hoped was a plausible story as the EMT’s got busy checking his pulse and other vitals. What he didn’t tell them that the love of his life was a crazy CIA spook. They probably wouldn’t believe it so he didn’t tell them that, after he had rescued her, she had stabbed him in the neck with a syringe that had knocked him out. Instead he lied and said he must have blacked out or something. “Hell,” Brandiss exclaimed, “as far as I know, I could have had a stroke!”The EMT rolled his eyes at that one.“When I came to, she was gone,” he added.That part, at least, was the truth.Brandiss pointed out that he was the one who had called 911. Still the assembled officers eyed Brandiss with more than a small amount of suspicion. There was a lot of blood there. The ropes that had been used to bind the victim were on the floor at their feet. Standing right in front of them was a disgraced cop telling one of the lamest stories they had ever heard. It didn’t look good. Brandiss knew the cops weren’t buying his story and to be honest, if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t either.It was not until the drunk from the room next door came over and corroborated Brandiss’ story that the cops crossed him off the suspect list. Still they knew that Brandiss was holding back. They had decided that it was some sort of love triangle gone horribly wrong and if Brandiss didn’t care enough to tell them the whole truth that was fine with them. They didn’t even bother to process the crime scene to collect physical evidence.Brandiss didn’t agree with that decision but he didn’t argue. He knew that his frustration level over what Kade had done was building inside of him and he didn’t trust himself to speak.Kelvin Brandiss was basically a nice guy, a likable guy and sometimes he was even funny. But he had poor impulse control. His bouts with stupidity would come and go in a flash but it was that time between that got him into trouble.Most people wrote it off as just a quirk, but it had cost him and his career dearly. In fact, at that moment, he was on suspension pending disciplinary action. There was a board of inquiry looming and he was sure that this time his outburst would cost him his job. The writing was on the wall and even his closest allies had stopped talking to him.As soon as the police were gone the first thing Brandiss did was to call in a favor from Barbara Connense the team leader of the County Sheriff’s forensics team. He asked her to bring in her team and process the crime scene, unofficially, as a favor to him. When the team arrived he told them what little he knew and left.When Brandiss stepped out of Kade’s room he spotted the female half of the drunks, Angie, dressed only in the male drunk's shirt, walking towards the stairwell carrying an ice bucket. The male half was standing in the door of their room. He was shirtless, but at least he had put some pants on. He just stood there and watched Brandiss with a huge disgusting grin plastered on one side of his face.“Tough break, huh buddy?” The drunk asked rhetorically. “Hey… wait a minute,” he said slapping the door jam. “Ain’t you that guy on the Internet? I saw you on YouTube… You’re that cop that screwed up and got himself in trouble ain’t ya?”Brandiss paused and turned to face the drunk. They stood there eye-to-eye for a couple of heartbeats. Then without warning Brandiss punched the grinning drunk in the face. The drunk staggered backwards and fell onto the bed.He was out cold.“Yeah. Tough break,” Brandiss growled. He actually felt a little better… not much, but better nonetheless. Until, that is, he realized that he had done it again.***Jeff Riles quietly eased open the back door of his apartment building. He hugged the walls as he crept up the back stairs to his third floor apartment. He found the key that he kept hidden inside the fire extinguisher case and let himself in. Once inside he relaxed for the first time in months because it had been months since he had been home. For the life of him he couldn’t remember why.It had taken him a long time to get home because it had taken him a long time to remember where he lived. Why was he having so much trouble remembering things he should have no trouble remembering? Something was happening to him and he needed answers. He would have gotten his answers from that woman if he had not been interrupted by… who the hell was that anyway… a boyfriend?That woman, whoever she was, had rescued him from the men at that awful place but he didn’t trust her. She had taken him to that motel room, started giving him injections… just like those men had done. She must have been working with them. But he had overpowered her and tied her up. He was going to force her to tell him the truth… but some guy had come looking for the woman and he had almost been caught.Now that he had made it to his apartment he had no idea what his next move should be. He was having trouble thinking.He was aware that he was changing into… something else… something non-human! Those men had done something to him. Even now he could feel himself slipping away into… what? He had no idea. Somehow he knew that that woman and her wimpy father held the answers but he didn’t know how.A sound got his attention… unusual noises at the doors and windows… then there was nothing. Either he was loosing his mind, or that medication they had given him was making him paranoid.He went to the kitchen and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He needed some liquid courage to calm his nerves. He knocked it back and poured himself another.Suddenly there was an explosion; his door was blown open and then men with guns burst in. They were everywhere. He knew these men; they were the ones from that awful place. They were the ones who had turned him into a monster.Now came the sharp pains, like he had been stabbed with a hundred knives and then a moment later he felt… nothing.He was on the floor now, but couldn’t move. He looked up at the men as they hovered around him. He could smell their fear. What was that about? They were the ones with the guns… why were they afraid of him?***Brandiss wasn’t sure if Kade would be at this hospital, his rational side told him it was a long shot, but his instincts were relentless and he decided to trust them and check it out. Kade desperately needed medical treatment and there was a hospital nearby that was known for having one of the best trauma centers in Los Angeles. More importantly they had one of the best plastic surgeons in the area on call. She would be comfortable going to this hospital thinking that the shot she had given him would keep him unconscious.He moved tentatively along the hospital corridors, but no one paid him any attention. People at hospitals had enough problems of their own to be bothered with the problems of others he reasoned.He had no idea where he was going, each hallway he entered looked identical to the one he had just left. He was on autopilot, trying to find the emergency room and he wasn’t having much luck. He was being driven to find Kade. He had been dragged back into her life and he needed to know why.Brandiss got lucky when he spotted the “Emergency Room” sign out of the corner of his eye and then minutes later he was hiding in the dark inside an emergency room stall. The curtains were drawn and the homeless man, who smelled of alcohol and week old feces, was asleep. He was an older man with foul smelling breath and tobacco stained brown teeth. He had been so obnoxious that no one dared risk waking him up. It would take a lot to get a doctor or nurse into this stall so Brandiss knew he had time.***
Brandiss flattened himself against the cold tile wall in the back of the stall and peeked into the next stall through the curtain. He saw Kade in bed with a blanket pulled up to her chest and three separate IV’s in her arm. They had already stitched her face and applied a large bandage. There was also a bandage wrapped from the top of he head, down and around her chin that would prevent her from opening her mouth. He imagined that the bandage was to protect the stitches in her cheek. It struck him how pretty she was. Not model, cover girl high maintenance pretty… but a rugged, kind of functional pretty. Brandiss had a cinnamon shade of brown skin that was not nearly as dark as Kade. Her dark skin had always been blemish free so it required no make-up and even with the scars he doubted that she would start.Brandiss was debating the wisdom of slipping into her stall and confronting her but before he could decide he saw Mr. Simmons arrive. Mr. Simmons was carrying a duffle bag that he assumed was clothing and other personal items for Kade.“How is she?” He heard Mr. Simmons ask a nurse.Randy Simmons was a scrawny, wrinkled-up prune of a man. He wore thick glasses and spoke with a thick East African accent. There was something wrong with his back and at the right angle Brandiss could detect a slight hump. He had a creepy sort of way about him that reminded Brandiss of the mad scientists in the scary movies.“She’s fine Mr. Simmons,” the nurse replied. “We got lucky, there is no damage to the muscles and nerves which are essential for talking and facial animation. You are welcome to see her if you want… she’s been sedated though.”It was strange how the same urgency that compelled Brandiss to come to her bedside was now driving him to leave. But seeing Mr. Simmons standing vigil there reminded Brandiss of his painful rejection. He felt his temper rising and he knew that it was better for all involved if he left the hospital as soon as possible.He was prepared leave but before he could the emergency room doctor entered being quietly trailed by two police officers. They were the same ones he had seen at the motel. They must have had the same idea of where to find the other person that had been in that room. The person who had lost so much blood. It had taken them a while… but they had figured it out and now they were here and he was trapped.*** #af-form-384748288 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:98%;display:block;float:none;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body a{color:#2C4E7F;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#2C4E7F;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body label.previewLabel{display:block;float:none;text-align:left;width:auto;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:inherit;background-image:none;color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-footer{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:top;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-header{padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:bottom;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode .bodyText{padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:2px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-standards .af-element{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .bodyText p{margin:1em 0;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{background-color:#2c4e7f;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{width:auto;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer{text-align:right;} #af-form-384748288 body,#af-form-384748288 dl,#af-form-384748288 dt,#af-form-384748288 dd,#af-form-384748288 h1,#af-form-384748288 h2,#af-form-384748288 h3,#af-form-384748288 h4,#af-form-384748288 h5,#af-form-384748288 h6,#af-form-384748288 pre,#af-form-384748288 code,#af-form-384748288 fieldset,#af-form-384748288 legend,#af-form-384748288 blockquote,#af-form-384748288 th,#af-form-384748288 td{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 submit,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{float:none;position:static;margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 div{margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 fieldset{border:0;} #af-form-384748288 form,#af-form-384748288 textarea,.af-form-wrapper,.af-form-close-button,#af-form-384748288 img{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;background-color:none;border:none;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select{font-size:100%;} #af-form-384748288 p{color:inherit;} #af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 table{border-collapse:collapse;border-spacing:0;} #af-form-384748288 ul,#af-form-384748288 ol{list-style-image:none;list-style-position:outside;list-style-type:disc;padding-left:40px;} #af-form-384748288,#af-form-384748288 .quirksMode{width:418px;} #af-form-384748288.af-quirksMode{overflow-x:hidden;} #af-form-384748288{background-color:#F0F0F0;border-color:#EEEEEE;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288{display:block;} #af-form-384748288{overflow:hidden;} .af-body .af-textWrap{text-align:left;} .af-body input.image{border:none!important;} .af-body input.submit,.af-body input.image,.af-form .af-element input.button{float:none!important;} .af-body input.text{width:100%;float:none;padding:2px!important;} .af-body.af-standards input.submit{padding:4px 12px;} .af-clear{clear:both;} .af-element label{text-align:left;display:block;float:left;} .af-element{padding:5px 0;} .af-form-wrapper{text-indent:0;} .af-form{text-align:left;margin:auto;} .af-header,.af-footer{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0;padding:10px;} .af-quirksMode .af-element{padding-left:0!important;padding-right:0!important;} .lbl-right .af-element label{text-align:right;} body { }
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Chapter Three
The police were quick to arrive, next came the paramedics. Brandiss was just regaining consciousness and was still a little groggy so he would be the first to admit that he wasn’t at the top of his game. Nevertheless he told the officers what he hoped was a plausible story as the EMT’s got busy checking his pulse and other vitals. What he didn’t tell them that the love of his life was a crazy CIA spook. They probably wouldn’t believe it so he didn’t tell them that, after he had rescued her, she had stabbed him in the neck with a syringe that had knocked him out. Instead he lied and said he must have blacked out or something. “Hell,” Brandiss exclaimed, “as far as I know, I could have had a stroke!”The EMT rolled his eyes at that one.“When I came to, she was gone,” he added.That part, at least, was the truth.Brandiss pointed out that he was the one who had called 911. Still the assembled officers eyed Brandiss with more than a small amount of suspicion. There was a lot of blood there. The ropes that had been used to bind the victim were on the floor at their feet. Standing right in front of them was a disgraced cop telling one of the lamest stories they had ever heard. It didn’t look good. Brandiss knew the cops weren’t buying his story and to be honest, if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t either.It was not until the drunk from the room next door came over and corroborated Brandiss’ story that the cops crossed him off the suspect list. Still they knew that Brandiss was holding back. They had decided that it was some sort of love triangle gone horribly wrong and if Brandiss didn’t care enough to tell them the whole truth that was fine with them. They didn’t even bother to process the crime scene to collect physical evidence.Brandiss didn’t agree with that decision but he didn’t argue. He knew that his frustration level over what Kade had done was building inside of him and he didn’t trust himself to speak.Kelvin Brandiss was basically a nice guy, a likable guy and sometimes he was even funny. But he had poor impulse control. His bouts with stupidity would come and go in a flash but it was that time between that got him into trouble.Most people wrote it off as just a quirk, but it had cost him and his career dearly. In fact, at that moment, he was on suspension pending disciplinary action. There was a board of inquiry looming and he was sure that this time his outburst would cost him his job. The writing was on the wall and even his closest allies had stopped talking to him.As soon as the police were gone the first thing Brandiss did was to call in a favor from Barbara Connense the team leader of the County Sheriff’s forensics team. He asked her to bring in her team and process the crime scene, unofficially, as a favor to him. When the team arrived he told them what little he knew and left.When Brandiss stepped out of Kade’s room he spotted the female half of the drunks, Angie, dressed only in the male drunk's shirt, walking towards the stairwell carrying an ice bucket. The male half was standing in the door of their room. He was shirtless, but at least he had put some pants on. He just stood there and watched Brandiss with a huge disgusting grin plastered on one side of his face.“Tough break, huh buddy?” The drunk asked rhetorically. “Hey… wait a minute,” he said slapping the door jam. “Ain’t you that guy on the Internet? I saw you on YouTube… You’re that cop that screwed up and got himself in trouble ain’t ya?”Brandiss paused and turned to face the drunk. They stood there eye-to-eye for a couple of heartbeats. Then without warning Brandiss punched the grinning drunk in the face. The drunk staggered backwards and fell onto the bed.He was out cold.“Yeah. Tough break,” Brandiss growled. He actually felt a little better… not much, but better nonetheless. Until, that is, he realized that he had done it again.***Jeff Riles quietly eased open the back door of his apartment building. He hugged the walls as he crept up the back stairs to his third floor apartment. He found the key that he kept hidden inside the fire extinguisher case and let himself in. Once inside he relaxed for the first time in months because it had been months since he had been home. For the life of him he couldn’t remember why.It had taken him a long time to get home because it had taken him a long time to remember where he lived. Why was he having so much trouble remembering things he should have no trouble remembering? Something was happening to him and he needed answers. He would have gotten his answers from that woman if he had not been interrupted by… who the hell was that anyway… a boyfriend?That woman, whoever she was, had rescued him from the men at that awful place but he didn’t trust her. She had taken him to that motel room, started giving him injections… just like those men had done. She must have been working with them. But he had overpowered her and tied her up. He was going to force her to tell him the truth… but some guy had come looking for the woman and he had almost been caught.Now that he had made it to his apartment he had no idea what his next move should be. He was having trouble thinking.He was aware that he was changing into… something else… something non-human! Those men had done something to him. Even now he could feel himself slipping away into… what? He had no idea. Somehow he knew that that woman and her wimpy father held the answers but he didn’t know how.A sound got his attention… unusual noises at the doors and windows… then there was nothing. Either he was loosing his mind, or that medication they had given him was making him paranoid.He went to the kitchen and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He needed some liquid courage to calm his nerves. He knocked it back and poured himself another.Suddenly there was an explosion; his door was blown open and then men with guns burst in. They were everywhere. He knew these men; they were the ones from that awful place. They were the ones who had turned him into a monster.Now came the sharp pains, like he had been stabbed with a hundred knives and then a moment later he felt… nothing.He was on the floor now, but couldn’t move. He looked up at the men as they hovered around him. He could smell their fear. What was that about? They were the ones with the guns… why were they afraid of him?***Brandiss wasn’t sure if Kade would be at this hospital, his rational side told him it was a long shot, but his instincts were relentless and he decided to trust them and check it out. Kade desperately needed medical treatment and there was a hospital nearby that was known for having one of the best trauma centers in Los Angeles. More importantly they had one of the best plastic surgeons in the area on call. She would be comfortable going to this hospital thinking that the shot she had given him would keep him unconscious.He moved tentatively along the hospital corridors, but no one paid him any attention. People at hospitals had enough problems of their own to be bothered with the problems of others he reasoned.He had no idea where he was going, each hallway he entered looked identical to the one he had just left. He was on autopilot, trying to find the emergency room and he wasn’t having much luck. He was being driven to find Kade. He had been dragged back into her life and he needed to know why.Brandiss got lucky when he spotted the “Emergency Room” sign out of the corner of his eye and then minutes later he was hiding in the dark inside an emergency room stall. The curtains were drawn and the homeless man, who smelled of alcohol and week old feces, was asleep. He was an older man with foul smelling breath and tobacco stained brown teeth. He had been so obnoxious that no one dared risk waking him up. It would take a lot to get a doctor or nurse into this stall so Brandiss knew he had time.***
Brandiss flattened himself against the cold tile wall in the back of the stall and peeked into the next stall through the curtain. He saw Kade in bed with a blanket pulled up to her chest and three separate IV’s in her arm. They had already stitched her face and applied a large bandage. There was also a bandage wrapped from the top of he head, down and around her chin that would prevent her from opening her mouth. He imagined that the bandage was to protect the stitches in her cheek. It struck him how pretty she was. Not model, cover girl high maintenance pretty… but a rugged, kind of functional pretty. Brandiss had a cinnamon shade of brown skin that was not nearly as dark as Kade. Her dark skin had always been blemish free so it required no make-up and even with the scars he doubted that she would start.Brandiss was debating the wisdom of slipping into her stall and confronting her but before he could decide he saw Mr. Simmons arrive. Mr. Simmons was carrying a duffle bag that he assumed was clothing and other personal items for Kade.“How is she?” He heard Mr. Simmons ask a nurse.Randy Simmons was a scrawny, wrinkled-up prune of a man. He wore thick glasses and spoke with a thick East African accent. There was something wrong with his back and at the right angle Brandiss could detect a slight hump. He had a creepy sort of way about him that reminded Brandiss of the mad scientists in the scary movies.“She’s fine Mr. Simmons,” the nurse replied. “We got lucky, there is no damage to the muscles and nerves which are essential for talking and facial animation. You are welcome to see her if you want… she’s been sedated though.”It was strange how the same urgency that compelled Brandiss to come to her bedside was now driving him to leave. But seeing Mr. Simmons standing vigil there reminded Brandiss of his painful rejection. He felt his temper rising and he knew that it was better for all involved if he left the hospital as soon as possible.He was prepared leave but before he could the emergency room doctor entered being quietly trailed by two police officers. They were the same ones he had seen at the motel. They must have had the same idea of where to find the other person that had been in that room. The person who had lost so much blood. It had taken them a while… but they had figured it out and now they were here and he was trapped.*** #af-form-384748288 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:98%;display:block;float:none;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body a{color:#2C4E7F;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#2C4E7F;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body label.previewLabel{display:block;float:none;text-align:left;width:auto;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:inherit;background-image:none;color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-footer{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:top;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-header{padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:bottom;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode .bodyText{padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:2px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-standards .af-element{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .bodyText p{margin:1em 0;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{background-color:#2c4e7f;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{width:auto;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer{text-align:right;} #af-form-384748288 body,#af-form-384748288 dl,#af-form-384748288 dt,#af-form-384748288 dd,#af-form-384748288 h1,#af-form-384748288 h2,#af-form-384748288 h3,#af-form-384748288 h4,#af-form-384748288 h5,#af-form-384748288 h6,#af-form-384748288 pre,#af-form-384748288 code,#af-form-384748288 fieldset,#af-form-384748288 legend,#af-form-384748288 blockquote,#af-form-384748288 th,#af-form-384748288 td{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 submit,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{float:none;position:static;margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 div{margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 fieldset{border:0;} #af-form-384748288 form,#af-form-384748288 textarea,.af-form-wrapper,.af-form-close-button,#af-form-384748288 img{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;background-color:none;border:none;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select{font-size:100%;} #af-form-384748288 p{color:inherit;} #af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 table{border-collapse:collapse;border-spacing:0;} #af-form-384748288 ul,#af-form-384748288 ol{list-style-image:none;list-style-position:outside;list-style-type:disc;padding-left:40px;} #af-form-384748288,#af-form-384748288 .quirksMode{width:418px;} #af-form-384748288.af-quirksMode{overflow-x:hidden;} #af-form-384748288{background-color:#F0F0F0;border-color:#EEEEEE;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288{display:block;} #af-form-384748288{overflow:hidden;} .af-body .af-textWrap{text-align:left;} .af-body input.image{border:none!important;} .af-body input.submit,.af-body input.image,.af-form .af-element input.button{float:none!important;} .af-body input.text{width:100%;float:none;padding:2px!important;} .af-body.af-standards input.submit{padding:4px 12px;} .af-clear{clear:both;} .af-element label{text-align:left;display:block;float:left;} .af-element{padding:5px 0;} .af-form-wrapper{text-indent:0;} .af-form{text-align:left;margin:auto;} .af-header,.af-footer{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0;padding:10px;} .af-quirksMode .af-element{padding-left:0!important;padding-right:0!important;} .lbl-right .af-element label{text-align:right;} body { } Not a subscriber? 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Chapter Three: Number Five
Hero Jenkins --- 4/15/13
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Chapter Three
The police were quick to arrive, next came the paramedics. Brandiss was just regaining consciousness and was still a little groggy so he would be the first to admit that he wasn’t at the top of his game. Nevertheless he told the officers what he hoped was a plausible story as the EMT’s got busy checking his pulse and other vitals. What he didn’t tell them that the love of his life was a crazy CIA spook. They probably wouldn’t believe it so he didn’t tell them that, after he had rescued her, she had stabbed him in the neck with a syringe that had knocked him out. Instead he lied and said he must have blacked out or something. “Hell,” Brandiss exclaimed, “as far as I know, I could have had a stroke!”The EMT rolled his eyes at that one.“When I came to, she was gone,” he added.That part, at least, was the truth.Brandiss pointed out that he was the one who had called 911. Still the assembled officers eyed Brandiss with more than a small amount of suspicion. There was a lot of blood there. The ropes that had been used to bind the victim were on the floor at their feet. Standing right in front of them was a disgraced cop telling one of the lamest stories they had ever heard. It didn’t look good. Brandiss knew the cops weren’t buying his story and to be honest, if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t either.It was not until the drunk from the room next door came over and corroborated Brandiss’ story that the cops crossed him off the suspect list. Still they knew that Brandiss was holding back. They had decided that it was some sort of love triangle gone horribly wrong and if Brandiss didn’t care enough to tell them the whole truth that was fine with them. They didn’t even bother to process the crime scene to collect physical evidence.Brandiss didn’t agree with that decision but he didn’t argue. He knew that his frustration level over what Kade had done was building inside of him and he didn’t trust himself to speak.Kelvin Brandiss was basically a nice guy, a likable guy and sometimes he was even funny. But he had poor impulse control. His bouts with stupidity would come and go in a flash but it was that time between that got him into trouble.Most people wrote it off as just a quirk, but it had cost him and his career dearly. In fact, at that moment, he was on suspension pending disciplinary action. There was a board of inquiry looming and he was sure that this time his outburst would cost him his job. The writing was on the wall and even his closest allies had stopped talking to him.As soon as the police were gone the first thing Brandiss did was to call in a favor from Barbara Connense the team leader of the County Sheriff’s forensics team. He asked her to bring in her team and process the crime scene, unofficially, as a favor to him. When the team arrived he told them what little he knew and left.When Brandiss stepped out of Kade’s room he spotted the female half of the drunks, Angie, dressed only in the male drunk's shirt, walking towards the stairwell carrying an ice bucket. The male half was standing in the door of their room. He was shirtless, but at least he had put some pants on. He just stood there and watched Brandiss with a huge disgusting grin plastered on one side of his face.“Tough break, huh buddy?” The drunk asked rhetorically. “Hey… wait a minute,” he said slapping the door jam. “Ain’t you that guy on the Internet? I saw you on YouTube… You’re that cop that screwed up and got himself in trouble ain’t ya?”Brandiss paused and turned to face the drunk. They stood there eye-to-eye for a couple of heartbeats. Then without warning Brandiss punched the grinning drunk in the face. The drunk staggered backwards and fell onto the bed.He was out cold.“Yeah. Tough break,” Brandiss growled. He actually felt a little better… not much, but better nonetheless. Until, that is, he realized that he had done it again.***Jeff Riles quietly eased open the back door of his apartment building. He hugged the walls as he crept up the back stairs to his third floor apartment. He found the key that he kept hidden inside the fire extinguisher case and let himself in. Once inside he relaxed for the first time in months because it had been months since he had been home. For the life of him he couldn’t remember why.It had taken him a long time to get home because it had taken him a long time to remember where he lived. Why was he having so much trouble remembering things he should have no trouble remembering? Something was happening to him and he needed answers. He would have gotten his answers from that woman if he had not been interrupted by… who the hell was that anyway… a boyfriend?That woman, whoever she was, had rescued him from the men at that awful place but he didn’t trust her. She had taken him to that motel room, started giving him injections… just like those men had done. She must have been working with them. But he had overpowered her and tied her up. He was going to force her to tell him the truth… but some guy had come looking for the woman and he had almost been caught.Now that he had made it to his apartment he had no idea what his next move should be. He was having trouble thinking.He was aware that he was changing into… something else… something non-human! Those men had done something to him. Even now he could feel himself slipping away into… what? He had no idea. Somehow he knew that that woman and her wimpy father held the answers but he didn’t know how.A sound got his attention… unusual noises at the doors and windows… then there was nothing. Either he was loosing his mind, or that medication they had given him was making him paranoid.He went to the kitchen and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He needed some liquid courage to calm his nerves. He knocked it back and poured himself another.Suddenly there was an explosion; his door was blown open and then men with guns burst in. They were everywhere. He knew these men; they were the ones from that awful place. They were the ones who had turned him into a monster.Now came the sharp pains, like he had been stabbed with a hundred knives and then a moment later he felt… nothing.He was on the floor now, but couldn’t move. He looked up at the men as they hovered around him. He could smell their fear. What was that about? They were the ones with the guns… why were they afraid of him?***Brandiss wasn’t sure if Kade would be at this hospital, his rational side told him it was a long shot, but his instincts were relentless and he decided to trust them and check it out. Kade desperately needed medical treatment and there was a hospital nearby that was known for having one of the best trauma centers in Los Angeles. More importantly they had one of the best plastic surgeons in the area on call. She would be comfortable going to this hospital thinking that the shot she had given him would keep him unconscious.He moved tentatively along the hospital corridors, but no one paid him any attention. People at hospitals had enough problems of their own to be bothered with the problems of others he reasoned.He had no idea where he was going, each hallway he entered looked identical to the one he had just left. He was on autopilot, trying to find the emergency room and he wasn’t having much luck. He was being driven to find Kade. He had been dragged back into her life and he needed to know why.Brandiss got lucky when he spotted the “Emergency Room” sign out of the corner of his eye and then minutes later he was hiding in the dark inside an emergency room stall. The curtains were drawn and the homeless man, who smelled of alcohol and week old feces, was asleep. He was an older man with foul smelling breath and tobacco stained brown teeth. He had been so obnoxious that no one dared risk waking him up. It would take a lot to get a doctor or nurse into this stall so Brandiss knew he had time.***
Brandiss flattened himself against the cold tile wall in the back of the stall and peeked into the next stall through the curtain. He saw Kade in bed with a blanket pulled up to her chest and three separate IV’s in her arm. They had already stitched her face and applied a large bandage. There was also a bandage wrapped from the top of he head, down and around her chin that would prevent her from opening her mouth. He imagined that the bandage was to protect the stitches in her cheek. It struck him how pretty she was. Not model, cover girl high maintenance pretty… but a rugged, kind of functional pretty. Brandiss had a cinnamon shade of brown skin that was not nearly as dark as Kade. Her dark skin had always been blemish free so it required no make-up and even with the scars he doubted that she would start.Brandiss was debating the wisdom of slipping into her stall and confronting her but before he could decide he saw Mr. Simmons arrive. Mr. Simmons was carrying a duffle bag that he assumed was clothing and other personal items for Kade.“How is she?” He heard Mr. Simmons ask a nurse.Randy Simmons was a scrawny, wrinkled-up prune of a man. He wore thick glasses and spoke with a thick East African accent. There was something wrong with his back and at the right angle Brandiss could detect a slight hump. He had a creepy sort of way about him that reminded Brandiss of the mad scientists in the scary movies.“She’s fine Mr. Simmons,” the nurse replied. “We got lucky, there is no damage to the muscles and nerves which are essential for talking and facial animation. You are welcome to see her if you want… she’s been sedated though.”It was strange how the same urgency that compelled Brandiss to come to her bedside was now driving him to leave. But seeing Mr. Simmons standing vigil there reminded Brandiss of his painful rejection. He felt his temper rising and he knew that it was better for all involved if he left the hospital as soon as possible.He was prepared leave but before he could the emergency room doctor entered being quietly trailed by two police officers. They were the same ones he had seen at the motel. They must have had the same idea of where to find the other person that had been in that room. The person who had lost so much blood. It had taken them a while… but they had figured it out and now they were here and he was trapped.*** #af-form-384748288 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:98%;display:block;float:none;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body a{color:#2C4E7F;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#2C4E7F;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body label.previewLabel{display:block;float:none;text-align:left;width:auto;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:inherit;background-image:none;color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-footer{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:top;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-header{padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:bottom;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode .bodyText{padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:2px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-standards .af-element{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .bodyText p{margin:1em 0;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{background-color:#2c4e7f;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{width:auto;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer{text-align:right;} #af-form-384748288 body,#af-form-384748288 dl,#af-form-384748288 dt,#af-form-384748288 dd,#af-form-384748288 h1,#af-form-384748288 h2,#af-form-384748288 h3,#af-form-384748288 h4,#af-form-384748288 h5,#af-form-384748288 h6,#af-form-384748288 pre,#af-form-384748288 code,#af-form-384748288 fieldset,#af-form-384748288 legend,#af-form-384748288 blockquote,#af-form-384748288 th,#af-form-384748288 td{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 submit,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{float:none;position:static;margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 div{margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 fieldset{border:0;} #af-form-384748288 form,#af-form-384748288 textarea,.af-form-wrapper,.af-form-close-button,#af-form-384748288 img{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;background-color:none;border:none;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select{font-size:100%;} #af-form-384748288 p{color:inherit;} #af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 table{border-collapse:collapse;border-spacing:0;} #af-form-384748288 ul,#af-form-384748288 ol{list-style-image:none;list-style-position:outside;list-style-type:disc;padding-left:40px;} #af-form-384748288,#af-form-384748288 .quirksMode{width:418px;} #af-form-384748288.af-quirksMode{overflow-x:hidden;} #af-form-384748288{background-color:#F0F0F0;border-color:#EEEEEE;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288{display:block;} #af-form-384748288{overflow:hidden;} .af-body .af-textWrap{text-align:left;} .af-body input.image{border:none!important;} .af-body input.submit,.af-body input.image,.af-form .af-element input.button{float:none!important;} .af-body input.text{width:100%;float:none;padding:2px!important;} .af-body.af-standards input.submit{padding:4px 12px;} .af-clear{clear:both;} .af-element label{text-align:left;display:block;float:left;} .af-element{padding:5px 0;} .af-form-wrapper{text-indent:0;} .af-form{text-align:left;margin:auto;} .af-header,.af-footer{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0;padding:10px;} .af-quirksMode .af-element{padding-left:0!important;padding-right:0!important;} .lbl-right .af-element label{text-align:right;} body { }
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Chapter Three
The police were quick to arrive, next came the paramedics. Brandiss was just regaining consciousness and was still a little groggy so he would be the first to admit that he wasn’t at the top of his game. Nevertheless he told the officers what he hoped was a plausible story as the EMT’s got busy checking his pulse and other vitals. What he didn’t tell them that the love of his life was a crazy CIA spook. They probably wouldn’t believe it so he didn’t tell them that, after he had rescued her, she had stabbed him in the neck with a syringe that had knocked him out. Instead he lied and said he must have blacked out or something. “Hell,” Brandiss exclaimed, “as far as I know, I could have had a stroke!”The EMT rolled his eyes at that one.“When I came to, she was gone,” he added.That part, at least, was the truth.Brandiss pointed out that he was the one who had called 911. Still the assembled officers eyed Brandiss with more than a small amount of suspicion. There was a lot of blood there. The ropes that had been used to bind the victim were on the floor at their feet. Standing right in front of them was a disgraced cop telling one of the lamest stories they had ever heard. It didn’t look good. Brandiss knew the cops weren’t buying his story and to be honest, if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t either.It was not until the drunk from the room next door came over and corroborated Brandiss’ story that the cops crossed him off the suspect list. Still they knew that Brandiss was holding back. They had decided that it was some sort of love triangle gone horribly wrong and if Brandiss didn’t care enough to tell them the whole truth that was fine with them. They didn’t even bother to process the crime scene to collect physical evidence.Brandiss didn’t agree with that decision but he didn’t argue. He knew that his frustration level over what Kade had done was building inside of him and he didn’t trust himself to speak.Kelvin Brandiss was basically a nice guy, a likable guy and sometimes he was even funny. But he had poor impulse control. His bouts with stupidity would come and go in a flash but it was that time between that got him into trouble.Most people wrote it off as just a quirk, but it had cost him and his career dearly. In fact, at that moment, he was on suspension pending disciplinary action. There was a board of inquiry looming and he was sure that this time his outburst would cost him his job. The writing was on the wall and even his closest allies had stopped talking to him.As soon as the police were gone the first thing Brandiss did was to call in a favor from Barbara Connense the team leader of the County Sheriff’s forensics team. He asked her to bring in her team and process the crime scene, unofficially, as a favor to him. When the team arrived he told them what little he knew and left.When Brandiss stepped out of Kade’s room he spotted the female half of the drunks, Angie, dressed only in the male drunk's shirt, walking towards the stairwell carrying an ice bucket. The male half was standing in the door of their room. He was shirtless, but at least he had put some pants on. He just stood there and watched Brandiss with a huge disgusting grin plastered on one side of his face.“Tough break, huh buddy?” The drunk asked rhetorically. “Hey… wait a minute,” he said slapping the door jam. “Ain’t you that guy on the Internet? I saw you on YouTube… You’re that cop that screwed up and got himself in trouble ain’t ya?”Brandiss paused and turned to face the drunk. They stood there eye-to-eye for a couple of heartbeats. Then without warning Brandiss punched the grinning drunk in the face. The drunk staggered backwards and fell onto the bed.He was out cold.“Yeah. Tough break,” Brandiss growled. He actually felt a little better… not much, but better nonetheless. Until, that is, he realized that he had done it again.***Jeff Riles quietly eased open the back door of his apartment building. He hugged the walls as he crept up the back stairs to his third floor apartment. He found the key that he kept hidden inside the fire extinguisher case and let himself in. Once inside he relaxed for the first time in months because it had been months since he had been home. For the life of him he couldn’t remember why.It had taken him a long time to get home because it had taken him a long time to remember where he lived. Why was he having so much trouble remembering things he should have no trouble remembering? Something was happening to him and he needed answers. He would have gotten his answers from that woman if he had not been interrupted by… who the hell was that anyway… a boyfriend?That woman, whoever she was, had rescued him from the men at that awful place but he didn’t trust her. She had taken him to that motel room, started giving him injections… just like those men had done. She must have been working with them. But he had overpowered her and tied her up. He was going to force her to tell him the truth… but some guy had come looking for the woman and he had almost been caught.Now that he had made it to his apartment he had no idea what his next move should be. He was having trouble thinking.He was aware that he was changing into… something else… something non-human! Those men had done something to him. Even now he could feel himself slipping away into… what? He had no idea. Somehow he knew that that woman and her wimpy father held the answers but he didn’t know how.A sound got his attention… unusual noises at the doors and windows… then there was nothing. Either he was loosing his mind, or that medication they had given him was making him paranoid.He went to the kitchen and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He needed some liquid courage to calm his nerves. He knocked it back and poured himself another.Suddenly there was an explosion; his door was blown open and then men with guns burst in. They were everywhere. He knew these men; they were the ones from that awful place. They were the ones who had turned him into a monster.Now came the sharp pains, like he had been stabbed with a hundred knives and then a moment later he felt… nothing.He was on the floor now, but couldn’t move. He looked up at the men as they hovered around him. He could smell their fear. What was that about? They were the ones with the guns… why were they afraid of him?***Brandiss wasn’t sure if Kade would be at this hospital, his rational side told him it was a long shot, but his instincts were relentless and he decided to trust them and check it out. Kade desperately needed medical treatment and there was a hospital nearby that was known for having one of the best trauma centers in Los Angeles. More importantly they had one of the best plastic surgeons in the area on call. She would be comfortable going to this hospital thinking that the shot she had given him would keep him unconscious.He moved tentatively along the hospital corridors, but no one paid him any attention. People at hospitals had enough problems of their own to be bothered with the problems of others he reasoned.He had no idea where he was going, each hallway he entered looked identical to the one he had just left. He was on autopilot, trying to find the emergency room and he wasn’t having much luck. He was being driven to find Kade. He had been dragged back into her life and he needed to know why.Brandiss got lucky when he spotted the “Emergency Room” sign out of the corner of his eye and then minutes later he was hiding in the dark inside an emergency room stall. The curtains were drawn and the homeless man, who smelled of alcohol and week old feces, was asleep. He was an older man with foul smelling breath and tobacco stained brown teeth. He had been so obnoxious that no one dared risk waking him up. It would take a lot to get a doctor or nurse into this stall so Brandiss knew he had time.***
Brandiss flattened himself against the cold tile wall in the back of the stall and peeked into the next stall through the curtain. He saw Kade in bed with a blanket pulled up to her chest and three separate IV’s in her arm. They had already stitched her face and applied a large bandage. There was also a bandage wrapped from the top of he head, down and around her chin that would prevent her from opening her mouth. He imagined that the bandage was to protect the stitches in her cheek. It struck him how pretty she was. Not model, cover girl high maintenance pretty… but a rugged, kind of functional pretty. Brandiss had a cinnamon shade of brown skin that was not nearly as dark as Kade. Her dark skin had always been blemish free so it required no make-up and even with the scars he doubted that she would start.Brandiss was debating the wisdom of slipping into her stall and confronting her but before he could decide he saw Mr. Simmons arrive. Mr. Simmons was carrying a duffle bag that he assumed was clothing and other personal items for Kade.“How is she?” He heard Mr. Simmons ask a nurse.Randy Simmons was a scrawny, wrinkled-up prune of a man. He wore thick glasses and spoke with a thick East African accent. There was something wrong with his back and at the right angle Brandiss could detect a slight hump. He had a creepy sort of way about him that reminded Brandiss of the mad scientists in the scary movies.“She’s fine Mr. Simmons,” the nurse replied. “We got lucky, there is no damage to the muscles and nerves which are essential for talking and facial animation. You are welcome to see her if you want… she’s been sedated though.”It was strange how the same urgency that compelled Brandiss to come to her bedside was now driving him to leave. But seeing Mr. Simmons standing vigil there reminded Brandiss of his painful rejection. He felt his temper rising and he knew that it was better for all involved if he left the hospital as soon as possible.He was prepared leave but before he could the emergency room doctor entered being quietly trailed by two police officers. They were the same ones he had seen at the motel. They must have had the same idea of where to find the other person that had been in that room. The person who had lost so much blood. It had taken them a while… but they had figured it out and now they were here and he was trapped.*** #af-form-384748288 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:98%;display:block;float:none;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body a{color:#2C4E7F;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#2C4E7F;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-384748288 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body label.previewLabel{display:block;float:none;text-align:left;width:auto;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-body{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:inherit;background-image:none;color:#2C4F7F;font-size:11px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-footer{padding-bottom:15px;padding-top:15px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:top;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-header{padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;background-color:#2C4E7F;background-repeat:repeat-x;background-position:bottom;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode .bodyText{padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:2px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-quirksMode{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .af-standards .af-element{padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;} #af-form-384748288 .bodyText p{margin:1em 0;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{background-color:#2c4e7f;background-image:url("http://forms.aweber.com/images/forms/..., sans-serif;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer input.submit{width:auto;} #af-form-384748288 .buttonContainer{text-align:right;} #af-form-384748288 body,#af-form-384748288 dl,#af-form-384748288 dt,#af-form-384748288 dd,#af-form-384748288 h1,#af-form-384748288 h2,#af-form-384748288 h3,#af-form-384748288 h4,#af-form-384748288 h5,#af-form-384748288 h6,#af-form-384748288 pre,#af-form-384748288 code,#af-form-384748288 fieldset,#af-form-384748288 legend,#af-form-384748288 blockquote,#af-form-384748288 th,#af-form-384748288 td{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 submit,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{float:none;position:static;margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 div{margin:0;} #af-form-384748288 fieldset{border:0;} #af-form-384748288 form,#af-form-384748288 textarea,.af-form-wrapper,.af-form-close-button,#af-form-384748288 img{float:none;color:inherit;position:static;background-color:none;border:none;margin:0;padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 input,#af-form-384748288 button,#af-form-384748288 textarea,#af-form-384748288 select{font-size:100%;} #af-form-384748288 p{color:inherit;} #af-form-384748288 select,#af-form-384748288 label,#af-form-384748288 optgroup,#af-form-384748288 option{padding:0;} #af-form-384748288 table{border-collapse:collapse;border-spacing:0;} #af-form-384748288 ul,#af-form-384748288 ol{list-style-image:none;list-style-position:outside;list-style-type:disc;padding-left:40px;} #af-form-384748288,#af-form-384748288 .quirksMode{width:418px;} #af-form-384748288.af-quirksMode{overflow-x:hidden;} #af-form-384748288{background-color:#F0F0F0;border-color:#EEEEEE;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-384748288{display:block;} #af-form-384748288{overflow:hidden;} .af-body .af-textWrap{text-align:left;} .af-body input.image{border:none!important;} .af-body input.submit,.af-body input.image,.af-form .af-element input.button{float:none!important;} .af-body input.text{width:100%;float:none;padding:2px!important;} .af-body.af-standards input.submit{padding:4px 12px;} .af-clear{clear:both;} .af-element label{text-align:left;display:block;float:left;} .af-element{padding:5px 0;} .af-form-wrapper{text-indent:0;} .af-form{text-align:left;margin:auto;} .af-header,.af-footer{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0;padding:10px;} .af-quirksMode .af-element{padding-left:0!important;padding-right:0!important;} .lbl-right .af-element label{text-align:right;} body { } Not a subscriber? 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April 11, 2013
The Escape Route: Random Thoughts
Hero Jenkins --- 4/11/13
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The Escape Route
My wife was an athlete, and most athletes talk a lot of “SMACK”. I guess today “talking SMACK” is known as “trash talk”, but “SMACK” is what we called it back then. Besides bestowing upon her the gift of trash talking, God also saw fit to arm her with two of the sharpest elbows I have ever seen or felt. I'm not sure when it happened but at some point in this marriage she became emboldened. Armed with those freakishly sharp elbows she seemed to feel that she could get away with talking smack without there being any repercussions.So that is the background or rather the foundation of what I am about to share with you. Because I told you all of that to tell you this. My sons read my last “letter to myself” when I talked about them slipping into bed on Saturday mornings and reminded me of something I had forgotten about. One of them said: “I don’t quite remember it the way you described it.” With barely disguised laughter in his voice he reminded me that they didn’t always slip into the bed and cuddle. There was a time, when they were a little older, they responded to rescue their mom who was being tickled mercilessly as punishment for talking too much smack.I’m guessing they were about nine and seven at the time. All my wife had to do was scream for help and she would have two evil munchkins coming to her rescue. It always started the same way, with her mouth writing a check that her butt couldn’t cash. She would make some smartass remark and I would tickle her. She would try to use those sharp elbows but I was too quick for her. Then she would scream for back-up and the moment she did they would come running into our room, leap onto the bed and go all WWE on me.
Unfortunately for them, they were too little to win the battle outright because I could stack them and tickle them both with one hand while continuing to tickle their mom with the other. They would scream, but there was no one left to help them.After repeatedly losing, those two evil munchkins changed tactics on me. They adopted a hit and run approach and more importantly they devised a diabolical plan to use my own house against me. They called it “The Escape Route”. There was a narrow hallway connecting the master bedroom to the rest of the house. On one side of the hallway was a storage area. There was a cabinet on the bottom with doors that opened low and then a wall mounted linen closet on top with doors that opened high. Their plan was to open the upper cabinet doors and leave the bottom cabinet doors shut. That meant that if they could make it to the darkened hallway they, being munchkins, could run beneath the open upper doors while any pursuer that was not a munchkin, namely me, would collide with them.Diabolical... Right? Well I'm here to tell you that the plan worked. One Saturday morning they set up their escape route and waited. I’m not sure if my wife was in on it... she swears she was not. I’m sure it was just a coincidence that she was talking extra trash that day. And when she got in over her head she called for back-up and they responded. They attacked and then they retreated and I responded with pursuit. My man-sized body at that speed could not negotiate that sharp turn to that narrow hallway as well as their nimble munchkin bodies could. As usual I bumped into that first wall that was just after that first turn. As usual I could hear them laughing as they extended their lead and made their escape.
Though they had a slight lead, this chase was far from over. While it was true they had the advantage in this narrow hallway, once we got out of this hallway, I knew I could take two steps to their eight. I would close the gap and catch up to them on the straight away through the family room as they tried to escape to their bedrooms.I didn’t know about the escape route and when I made that first turn in that hallway, after I bumped into that first wall… “BLAM!” I slammed into that first cabinet door and stumbled backward. That door had caught me completely by surprise. More importantly it had completely stopped my momentum. My attention was focused downward as I closed the cabinet door and caught a glimpse of a tiny little body disappearing around the corner… OK they had pulled farther ahead, but I could still make up ground and I could still catch them. Just as I got going again...
"BLAM!"
I slammed into the second cabinet door and the chase was over. For the first time, they had won.At first I was angry, I could have been hurt. And I had to explain it to them. I mean what’s next… banana peels, glass or tacks... perhaps marbles? I’ve seen the “Home Alone” movies, I know how this ends. But on another level I had to admit that I was impressed with the sheer diabolical thinking that goes into setting up an escape route. Now that they are grown they still take their mother’s side but they are much taller now and can no longer get away by using the escape route. And now that they have reminded me I am busy plotting my revenge because someday they will have kids and grandpa is going to teach his grandkids how to set up escape routes of their own.
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The Escape Route
My wife was an athlete, and most athletes talk a lot of “SMACK”. I guess today “talking SMACK” is known as “trash talk”, but “SMACK” is what we called it back then. Besides bestowing upon her the gift of trash talking, God also saw fit to arm her with two of the sharpest elbows I have ever seen or felt. I'm not sure when it happened but at some point in this marriage she became emboldened. Armed with those freakishly sharp elbows she seemed to feel that she could get away with talking smack without there being any repercussions.So that is the background or rather the foundation of what I am about to share with you. Because I told you all of that to tell you this. My sons read my last “letter to myself” when I talked about them slipping into bed on Saturday mornings and reminded me of something I had forgotten about. One of them said: “I don’t quite remember it the way you described it.” With barely disguised laughter in his voice he reminded me that they didn’t always slip into the bed and cuddle. There was a time, when they were a little older, they responded to rescue their mom who was being tickled mercilessly as punishment for talking too much smack.I’m guessing they were about nine and seven at the time. All my wife had to do was scream for help and she would have two evil munchkins coming to her rescue. It always started the same way, with her mouth writing a check that her butt couldn’t cash. She would make some smartass remark and I would tickle her. She would try to use those sharp elbows but I was too quick for her. Then she would scream for back-up and the moment she did they would come running into our room, leap onto the bed and go all WWE on me. Unfortunately for them, they were too little to win the battle outright because I could stack them and tickle them both with one hand while continuing to tickle their mom with the other. They would scream, but there was no one left to help them.After repeatedly losing, those two evil munchkins changed tactics on me. They adopted a hit and run approach and more importantly they devised a diabolical plan to use my own house against me. They called it “The Escape Route”. There was a narrow hallway connecting the master bedroom to the rest of the house. On one side of the hallway was a storage area. There was a cabinet on the bottom with doors that opened low and then a wall mounted linen closet on top with doors that opened high. Their plan was to open the upper cabinet doors and leave the bottom cabinet doors shut. That meant that if they could make it to the darkened hallway they, being munchkins, could run beneath the open upper doors while any pursuer that was not a munchkin, namely me, would collide with them.Diabolical... Right? Well I'm here to tell you that the plan worked. One Saturday morning they set up their escape route and waited. I’m not sure if my wife was in on it... she swears she was not. I’m sure it was just a coincidence that she was talking extra trash that day. And when she got in over her head she called for back-up and they responded. They attacked and then they retreated and I responded with pursuit. My man-sized body at that speed could not negotiate that sharp turn to that narrow hallway as well as their nimble munchkin bodies could. As usual I bumped into that first wall that was just after that first turn. As usual I could hear them laughing as they extended their lead and made their escape.
Though they had a slight lead, this chase was far from over. While it was true they had the advantage in this narrow hallway, once we got out of this hallway, I knew I could take two steps to their eight. I would close the gap and catch up to them on the straight away through the family room as they tried to escape to their bedrooms.I didn’t know about the escape route and when I made that first turn in that hallway, after I bumped into that first wall… “BLAM!” I slammed into that first cabinet door and stumbled backward. That door had caught me completely by surprise. More importantly it had completely stopped my momentum. My attention was focused downward as I closed the cabinet door and caught a glimpse of a tiny little body disappearing around the corner… OK they had pulled farther ahead, but I could still make up ground and I could still catch them. Just as I got going again...
"BLAM!"
I slammed into the second cabinet door and the chase was over. For the first time, they had won.At first I was angry, I could have been hurt. And I had to explain it to them. I mean what’s next… banana peels, glass or tacks... perhaps marbles? I’ve seen the “Home Alone” movies, I know how this ends. But on another level I had to admit that I was impressed with the sheer diabolical thinking that goes into setting up an escape route. Now that they are grown they still take their mother’s side but they are much taller now and can no longer get away by using the escape route. And now that they have reminded me I am busy plotting my revenge because someday they will have kids and grandpa is going to teach his grandkids how to set up escape routes of their own.
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April 8, 2013
Chapter Two: Subject Number Five
Hero Jenkins --- 4/8/13
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Complete the form at the end of this blog post to subscribe to this blog and receive future chapters automatically.Chapter Two
Brandiss’ muscular six-foot frame filled the doorway, his eyes rapidly scanned the room… it was a mess.Clothing was everywhere as if flung about by a tornado. The TV was face down on the floor and shattered. The mirror had been smashed… furniture overturned. There were at least fifty fist-sized holes punched into the walls. Even the normally unmovable paintings had been ripped down and hurled across the room.Only one of the bedside lamps was intact and it had been torn from the wall and was now dangling by its cord just above the nightstand. The light was partially covered by a woman’s blouse. It swung back and forth slowly as it lit the room with an eerie soft red glow. Its movement shifting the shadows, giving the illusion of motion where there was none. At first the light was not enough for Brandiss to make out everything in that tiny motel room. But as his eyes began to adjust, he began to pick out more and more detail and what he saw sickened him. There had been a desperate battle here… and the rage that had caused all of this damage had to have been loud… yet no one had called the police.Yeah, he thought as despair began to rise in him. It was that kind of motel… why in the hell would Kade check into a place like this?Then he noticed something else; there was a foul stench in the air. A faint odor of decay, as if death itself had visited that room and though gone its stench still lingered. That was when he saw it…There was a body on the bed and it was covered in blood.His heart sank.It was Kade.Brandiss stepped forward… tentatively, just as his hand moved smoothly for the gun in his holster. His eyes continually swept the room. There was still a danger here. He was not expecting this so he had come alone and though someone had fled, there could be someone else in the room.God, he hoped so.His hand found the grip of his pistol and he felt his gun come out of its holster... all things considered, it was a comfortable feeling. He became aware that his back was exposed as long as he stood in that doorway. He stepped into the room and to his right, keeping to the shadows while he listened to the room.He heard a moan… then he saw the body move… she was still alive.Kade lay on her side facing him, her eyes were wide with terror. Her feet and hands were bound and her mouth had been gagged. Her face was covered with blood. There were at least two, deep, slashes that ran the length of her left cheek. Her flesh hung down exposing the bone. There were several other less severe cuts visible on her legs and arms.A strong urge to pursue the bastard who had bolted from the room seized him… he fought back that reflex. Whoever that was he was long gone, besides… Brandiss couldn’t bear to leave Kade alone… not like this.He took another step, this time forward, away from the wall and into the light. Her eyes focused on his face, they showed recognition and she started to cry. Though the sounds were muffled by the gag in her mouth he could see her entire body as it began convulsing with each sob.Brandiss heard a noise like a bang or a bump that could have come from the bathroom. He looked in that direction, the door was closed. Instinctively Brandiss moved across the small motel room, his attention and his gun focused on that bathroom door. It was quiet now perhaps it was only his imagination, but he had to be sure.He stepped to one side and glanced over at Kade. She was straining against her bindings, desperate to see what was going on behind her. He reached for the knob and slowly twisted it. There was no easy way to do this so he just shoved the door open and brought his weapon up and prepared to shoot.There was no one in there. The sounds he had heard must have come from the drunks next door.Brandiss returned to where Kade lay with a small towel from the bathroom. He untied her feet and then her hands. She tried to reach for him but he stopped her.“Lay still,” he said gently as he carefully folded the hanging flesh from her face back into place and pressed the towel to the wound to stop the bleeding.“Hold this here,” he said.He sat down on the bed. She seemed to relax as he gathered her up into his arms. She buried her head into his chest and wrapped her free arm around his waist as she held on tight. Brandiss pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. Then he kissed her on the top of her head as tears were streaming down his cheeks into her beautiful black hair.***Kade Simmons was involved in something dangerous and she was refusing to let him help. Apparently deciding that whatever the problem was, she needed to handle it alone. This “problem” was going to get her killed; yet she refused to back off, she refused to be careful.She had disappeared and had begun using an alias that he wasn’t supposed to know about. But Brandiss had figured it out and now he had tracked her alias to his motel by following a trail of credit card receipts and ATM withdrawals. Although he had utilized official Task Force resources to find her, what had him lurking about this seedy motel was far from official business. He was still in love with her and he had to be sure that she was safe.Holding her Brandiss realized that it had been months since he had Kade in his arms. They had met and fallen in love in the hospital where Brandiss was being treated for a work related broken leg and ruptured spleen. Kade was recovering from undisclosed injuries resulting from a case that was still classified, which meant that she was not in a position to talk about either.That should have been a clue.Brandiss had no doubts that she worked for the government because only government law enforcement were ever admitted into the wing of the hospital they found themselves in. He suspected that she was a CIA spook or something by the way she carried herself and avoided even the most innocent inquiries as to what she did for Uncle Sam. As it turned out, it didn’t matter what she did. They were just two lonely people and at the time the anonymity was not a stumbling block for the affair.Suddenly it was over and everything changed. She stopped taking his calls. Refusing to even talk to him, sending her father to deliver the message of dismissal. Brandiss wondered at first why she even bothered but her father quickly answered that question.“Your ability to hunt people down is legendary in the Law Enforcement community, Officer Brandiss,” her father had said nervously. “She wants your assurances that you will not try to track her down.”Months had passed, Brandiss kept his word and he had not tried to find her. He assumed that she had moved on even though he had not been able to, Lord knows he had tried.It surprised him, though it shouldn’t have, that the first contact had been made by her father. He needed Brandiss’ help… his daughter had disappeared. When he lost contact with Kade, he had first turned to the police. When they were ineffective, he turned to Brandiss.Brandiss didn’t trust her father. But then he knew little about him… perhaps that was part of the problem. He was a scientist Brandiss had guessed, involved in some sort of research that neither would talk about. But he kept secrets even more so than Kade. His name was Randy or Randall or something like that, which should have been a clue. Every Randy Brandiss had ever known had been sneaky and a compulsive liar. There was no mother in the picture; at least Kade never spoke of her.But now, all of a sudden, Randy needed Brandiss’ help… funny how things work out sometimes. He had begged Brandiss to find her but Brandiss was reluctant. Brandiss had loved Kade and the pain of the separation was still there. At first Brandiss had refused to get involved. However, there was something, perhaps it was the desperation in Randy’s voice that had convinced him to try.Then there was that other thing, call it instincts if you want. Whatever it was, he knew he had to find her quickly. His instincts were telling him that Kade was in far greater danger than either of them realized.But now he had found her and for now she was safe. Perhaps now she would let him in, let him help her.***“Whoo-ee, looks like some party,” the drunk from next door hooted as he deposited himself in the doorway.Brandiss glared up at him and if angry looks were lasers, the drunk would have caught fire and exploded. The drunk got the message and disappeared.The first sign that something was wrong was the pinprick of the needle at the base of his skull. Then his vision started to blur and he felt his grip on reality began slip. The last thing he saw was his darling Kade standing over him holding the syringe and he knew that she had shot him full of tranquilizers or something… but why… it made no sense?***#af-form-1876964738 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:70%;display:block;float:right;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#000000;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body a{color:#094C80;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body input.text, #af-form-1876964738 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#919191;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-1876964738 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body 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Brandiss’ muscular six-foot frame filled the doorway, his eyes rapidly scanned the room… it was a mess.Clothing was everywhere as if flung about by a tornado. The TV was face down on the floor and shattered. The mirror had been smashed… furniture overturned. There were at least fifty fist-sized holes punched into the walls. Even the normally unmovable paintings had been ripped down and hurled across the room.Only one of the bedside lamps was intact and it had been torn from the wall and was now dangling by its cord just above the nightstand. The light was partially covered by a woman’s blouse. It swung back and forth slowly as it lit the room with an eerie soft red glow. Its movement shifting the shadows, giving the illusion of motion where there was none. At first the light was not enough for Brandiss to make out everything in that tiny motel room. But as his eyes began to adjust, he began to pick out more and more detail and what he saw sickened him. There had been a desperate battle here… and the rage that had caused all of this damage had to have been loud… yet no one had called the police.Yeah, he thought as despair began to rise in him. It was that kind of motel… why in the hell would Kade check into a place like this?Then he noticed something else; there was a foul stench in the air. A faint odor of decay, as if death itself had visited that room and though gone its stench still lingered. That was when he saw it…There was a body on the bed and it was covered in blood.His heart sank.It was Kade.Brandiss stepped forward… tentatively, just as his hand moved smoothly for the gun in his holster. His eyes continually swept the room. There was still a danger here. He was not expecting this so he had come alone and though someone had fled, there could be someone else in the room.God, he hoped so.His hand found the grip of his pistol and he felt his gun come out of its holster... all things considered, it was a comfortable feeling. He became aware that his back was exposed as long as he stood in that doorway. He stepped into the room and to his right, keeping to the shadows while he listened to the room.He heard a moan… then he saw the body move… she was still alive.Kade lay on her side facing him, her eyes were wide with terror. Her feet and hands were bound and her mouth had been gagged. Her face was covered with blood. There were at least two, deep, slashes that ran the length of her left cheek. Her flesh hung down exposing the bone. There were several other less severe cuts visible on her legs and arms.A strong urge to pursue the bastard who had bolted from the room seized him… he fought back that reflex. Whoever that was he was long gone, besides… Brandiss couldn’t bear to leave Kade alone… not like this.He took another step, this time forward, away from the wall and into the light. Her eyes focused on his face, they showed recognition and she started to cry. Though the sounds were muffled by the gag in her mouth he could see her entire body as it began convulsing with each sob.Brandiss heard a noise like a bang or a bump that could have come from the bathroom. He looked in that direction, the door was closed. Instinctively Brandiss moved across the small motel room, his attention and his gun focused on that bathroom door. It was quiet now perhaps it was only his imagination, but he had to be sure.He stepped to one side and glanced over at Kade. She was straining against her bindings, desperate to see what was going on behind her. He reached for the knob and slowly twisted it. There was no easy way to do this so he just shoved the door open and brought his weapon up and prepared to shoot.There was no one in there. The sounds he had heard must have come from the drunks next door.Brandiss returned to where Kade lay with a small towel from the bathroom. He untied her feet and then her hands. She tried to reach for him but he stopped her.“Lay still,” he said gently as he carefully folded the hanging flesh from her face back into place and pressed the towel to the wound to stop the bleeding.“Hold this here,” he said.He sat down on the bed. She seemed to relax as he gathered her up into his arms. She buried her head into his chest and wrapped her free arm around his waist as she held on tight. Brandiss pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. Then he kissed her on the top of her head as tears were streaming down his cheeks into her beautiful black hair.***Kade Simmons was involved in something dangerous and she was refusing to let him help. Apparently deciding that whatever the problem was, she needed to handle it alone. This “problem” was going to get her killed; yet she refused to back off, she refused to be careful.She had disappeared and had begun using an alias that he wasn’t supposed to know about. But Brandiss had figured it out and now he had tracked her alias to his motel by following a trail of credit card receipts and ATM withdrawals. Although he had utilized official Task Force resources to find her, what had him lurking about this seedy motel was far from official business. He was still in love with her and he had to be sure that she was safe.Holding her Brandiss realized that it had been months since he had Kade in his arms. They had met and fallen in love in the hospital where Brandiss was being treated for a work related broken leg and ruptured spleen. Kade was recovering from undisclosed injuries resulting from a case that was still classified, which meant that she was not in a position to talk about either.That should have been a clue.Brandiss had no doubts that she worked for the government because only government law enforcement were ever admitted into the wing of the hospital they found themselves in. He suspected that she was a CIA spook or something by the way she carried herself and avoided even the most innocent inquiries as to what she did for Uncle Sam. As it turned out, it didn’t matter what she did. They were just two lonely people and at the time the anonymity was not a stumbling block for the affair.Suddenly it was over and everything changed. She stopped taking his calls. Refusing to even talk to him, sending her father to deliver the message of dismissal. Brandiss wondered at first why she even bothered but her father quickly answered that question.“Your ability to hunt people down is legendary in the Law Enforcement community, Officer Brandiss,” her father had said nervously. “She wants your assurances that you will not try to track her down.”Months had passed, Brandiss kept his word and he had not tried to find her. He assumed that she had moved on even though he had not been able to, Lord knows he had tried.It surprised him, though it shouldn’t have, that the first contact had been made by her father. He needed Brandiss’ help… his daughter had disappeared. When he lost contact with Kade, he had first turned to the police. When they were ineffective, he turned to Brandiss.Brandiss didn’t trust her father. But then he knew little about him… perhaps that was part of the problem. He was a scientist Brandiss had guessed, involved in some sort of research that neither would talk about. But he kept secrets even more so than Kade. His name was Randy or Randall or something like that, which should have been a clue. Every Randy Brandiss had ever known had been sneaky and a compulsive liar. There was no mother in the picture; at least Kade never spoke of her.But now, all of a sudden, Randy needed Brandiss’ help… funny how things work out sometimes. He had begged Brandiss to find her but Brandiss was reluctant. Brandiss had loved Kade and the pain of the separation was still there. At first Brandiss had refused to get involved. However, there was something, perhaps it was the desperation in Randy’s voice that had convinced him to try.Then there was that other thing, call it instincts if you want. Whatever it was, he knew he had to find her quickly. His instincts were telling him that Kade was in far greater danger than either of them realized.But now he had found her and for now she was safe. Perhaps now she would let him in, let him help her.***“Whoo-ee, looks like some party,” the drunk from next door hooted as he deposited himself in the doorway.Brandiss glared up at him and if angry looks were lasers, the drunk would have caught fire and exploded. The drunk got the message and disappeared.The first sign that something was wrong was the pinprick of the needle at the base of his skull. Then his vision started to blur and he felt his grip on reality began slip. The last thing he saw was his darling Kade standing over him holding the syringe and he knew that she had shot him full of tranquilizers or something… but why… it made no sense?***#af-form-1876964738 .af-body .af-textWrap{width:70%;display:block;float:right;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body .privacyPolicy{color:#000000;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body a{color:#094C80;text-decoration:underline;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body input.text, #af-form-1876964738 .af-body textarea{background-color:#FFFFFF;border-color:#919191;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;color:#000000;text-decoration:none;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body input.text:focus, #af-form-1876964738 .af-body textarea:focus{background-color:#FFFAD6;border-color:#030303;border-width:1px;border-style:solid;} #af-form-1876964738 .af-body 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