The Fledge Effect (14 page)

Respecting others
, is what he was taught.
Jack’s bicep revealed itself as his shirt
slid down. His hair stood up with stiffness. It
was clear to George that the man hadn’t showered for quite some time. The armpit stains,
wrapping around the side of his rib cages, confirmed it.
George straddled the chair next to him.
“Agent Carlson?” he said, with a small chuckle.
“What brings you here?”
Jack turned to him. “George? Aren’t
you supposed to be off being Agent Brinks’
pawn?” He turned back to his drink, adding another shot glass to his six-glass pyramid.
The bartender winked at George. “Anything for you, cutie?”
George could feel himself blush, but
knew it couldn’t be seen amongst his chocolate,
brown skin. He nodded, holding up two fingers.
“Two beers, please.”
Jack laughed. “Don’t take it to heart.
It’s her job to be a flirt. So, why are
you
here?”
“You first,” George said, after taking his
first sip of beer.
Jack’s face hardened. He looked as if
George asked him to jump off a cliff. He silenced
his voice, under toning the music. “
I quit
.”
“Huh?”
“I quit!”
George refused to believe it, even for a
second. “
Really?
So, she just let you walk away.
Alive?
”
He rose from the barstool, paid his tab,
and nodded at George in response.
“Hey,” George said, grabbing Jack’s
arm, “where can I find you?”
Jack chuckled slightly. “If I’m lucky?
Heh…
Dead
.”
The incongruity, in which he spoke, left
George puzzled. He watched as Jack left; nothing in his step made him seem depressed. The
light blinded him, as the door opened. He
turned back to the bar, tapping his finger on the
neck of his beer.
The bartender smiled at him. Her big,
voluptuous, red lips stretched between her dimpled cheeks. “Anything else,” she asked.
Her palms faced down on a flat surface.
No ring
, George thought to himself. “Uh, yeah.
Can you answer me one question?”
“Sure,” she eyed his silver bracelet,
studying how two metal pieces rested on his
wrist, “Military Man.”
Her elbow rested in front of him, and
placed her cheek inside her upturned palm. She
smiled, and bore her big, brown, eyes into him.
“Your question?”
“Yes. Why are you so beautiful?” he said
with a chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe he just
said that.
“Wow,” she scoffed, eyes rolled. “Well,
why do you wear your dog tags on your wrist,
and not your neck?”
He paused.
“See? You don’t like answering uncomfortable questions, no more than the next person.”
She started to walk away. But, he
stopped her. “Wait! I’ll answer. I’m not like the
next guy
.”
“Good, then I’ll tell you why I am so
beautiful.”
He remembered a sunny day in a distant desert, half way around the globe. A terrorist had strangled his friend, Lt. Powell. Usually,
that type of death was normal in that area. But,
what he was strangled by could have been one
of the worst ways to die; by his own identification.
He realized his face felt hardened. He
relaxed into a smile, playing his bracelet. “It’s
more fashionable here. I’m trying to start a new
trend.”
“Okay, okay. Well, I am so beautiful because I wear make-up.”
“What?” George sounded sarcastic.
“No, I thought that was all natural.”
His joking mannerisms did not go unnoticed.
She laughed, matching him. “Heh, trust
me, if this was
natural
, then I would save me
about three-hundred bucks a month.”
“Ouch,
really
?” he said, sipping his
beer. “I love not being a woman, if it costs that
much to be one.”
“That’s good, because I love how you
are
a man,” she said, rubbing his hand. It sent a
tingle up is arm. Her touch warmed every inch
of his body.
She leaned in, her lips just inches from
his. He remained, feeling his heart pound
against his chest. Her perfume intoxicated his
every sense. Then, his phone started buzzing inconsistently. Before her lips were able to meet
his, he apologized. “I have to see what this is
about.”
She shrugged it off, and walked away.
“
Dammit
,” he said to himself. “
I cannot
catch a break
.”
He walked outside, and checked his
phone. It alerted him of Emily’s device location.
She neared Meriden, not too far from the bar.

She fiddled with her coffee spoon, exasperating a series of sighs.
She has a daughter.
But, that was all
she had confessed. Trudy, however, pressed for
more. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Emily looked down at her half-eaten
omelet. She pulled her lips back in a straight
line across her face. “I don’t know.”
“Do you still have the sonogram pictures, or did her adoptive parents take them?”
“They never asked for them.”
“So…” Trudy waited for a definite answer. She’s technically the grandma; she
couldn’t figure out why on Earth she shouldn’t
see them.
Emily realized what she was hinting at.
She grabbed her purse from the floor, and began
rifling through it.
Trudy patted her arm. “I’ll admit I
probably would have gotten mad at you. But not
because you were pregnant. I would have been
mad at myself for not cherishing every moment
we shared, better… For not realizing that time,
has indeed, flew by.”
Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Emily
instantly felt a twinge of regret in the pit of her
stomach.
What have I done?
Nevertheless, she comforted her
mother. “I wish I would have known that. I
never would have left. And living with you, I
would have been able to raise my daughter,”
Emily shrugged, “I guess I shouldn’t dwell in the
past.”
She wanted to lighten the situation.
Trudy smiled. “Are the pictures in your purse?”
The rooster clock ticked annoyingly.
“Yeah,” she said, speaking over the abnormally loud ticking noise. “I just cleaned out
my purse and made a special spot for them.”
She re-checked her purse, raising her
hands in defeat. “They’re not here. I swear they
were just here.”
Maddie walked in. She over-heard everything. “Were they in anything?”
“Yeah. A small box with a lid. It had
golden swirls of floral patterns on it.”
Maddie thought for a moment. Then a
light of realization dawned in her eyes. “Oh, that
is what that was.”
“What? You’ve seen it. Where?”
“On your nightstand. I thought it was a
jewelry box. When I visited, I was going to go
through it, but then you started to wake up.”
Emily remembered cleaning out her
purse that night before. “Crap, you’re right. I
need to go get it.”
Maddie grabbed her jacket as Emily
rose from the chair. “I’m coming with.”
Emily chuckled. “No, you are staying
here. Because, if anything happens to me, I
don’t want to feel responsible for something
that might happen to you,” she said, reaching
for the doorknob. “You got lucky at the market,
let’s not push it.”
She gave her sister a peck on the cheek.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
She turned to her mother, who shook
while holding the door open. She sensed her
mother was worried. “I promise.”
Before closing the door, Maddie said,
“Bye,” as if she was never going to see her sister
ever again.
Emily’s stomach churned as she sat
back into the seat. Was she doing the right
thing? She felt a tight grip beneath her rib cage,
reluctant to even start the car. The past is the
past nothing can change that. Yet, she has decided to face its saddened memory once more.
A memory she wants wiped clean, and forgotten.
No one else knows
, she thought.
What
harm would it be if I just left them?
But, she decided it probably would be for the best to retrieve them. In order to never be discovered by
Nick.
Her phone began to ring. It was Nick.
She answered it. “Hello?”
“Hey…” Nick’s voice was thick with
emotion.
“What are you doing? Where are you
at?”
“I’m heading towards Meriden. I want
to leave this state. Find someone that could help
me.”
“If you give Doctor Marcel some time,
he could help you. Everyone, for that matter.”
“I don’t have time to lose.”
“Okay. Will you be back soon?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Look, I just called
to see if you were okay.” Emily’s engine turned
on. “What are you doing?”
“Going back to my house… I forgot
something.”
“Okay, I’ll let you go, then.”
“Bye.” Her thumb trembled above the
‘end call’ button. Then, it hung up itself. “Okay,
then.”
She pulled out of the drive, slow, as to
not hit any oncoming traffic coming her way.
•••
Fenced in areas surrounded the sides of the
highway. At a paced speed, Nick approached a
series of fencing. He couldn’t recall any news
about a new prison being built. He looked
closer, beyond the fence, and saw many familiar
faces.
A co-ed prison
, he thought,
that’s something new. Hard to believe it wasn’t placed on
the news.
The road continued to move back as he
drove. The highway began playing tricks on his
once straight gaze. His sight felt dizzy, when he
kept focus on the yellow stripe. He looked up.
“Okay, where am I?”
Talking to himself seemed crazy, but it
was the only way to distract himself from his
basic desire; food, or in his case,
blood
.
A sign, up ahead, read:
INTERSTATE 691.
He squinted his eyes back at the prison.
On the ground, there were two guards. In each
of the four stands, was a guard per stand.
That’s
an anomaly, for sure
, he thought.
“Well, that seems excessive,” he said,
noticing how each guard held a machine gun,
with at least a hundred visible rounds.
He saw something disturbing. He
shook his head not believing what his eyes were
perceiving. It was a little girl, about ten or
twelve. She sat her back towards the fence,
holding her knees up to her chest. She rested
her chin upon them. Her shoulders raised up
and down; she had been sobbing for quite some
time now. The thought of her being there was
enough for him to burn inside.
She’s only a child, for Christs’ sake.
He
had no idea of who she was, but he figured out
why she was there.

Nick stopped his car, and parked it on
the side of the road. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the guards. One guard looked at him.
Nick slammed his hands down on the steering
wheel, pretending to fight with ignition. He
flipped on his hazards, and the guard finally
looked away.

His eyes enlarged, realizing this wasn’t
just any prison. Beyond the fences were icy blue
eyes, much like his. Still, the one thing that
made it abundantly clear were those with protruding sharp teeth that poked through their
lips. He recognized the face of hunger when he
saw it.

They are encamping Fledges? For
what?
He could only assume the worse.
They
are lab rats.
Staring at the guards, he half-joked
to himself. “Looks like I’ll be eating after all.”

He walked out to his trunk, and rustled
around inside it. He searched briskly for his
wire cutters amongst his black toolbox. He
wished he had remembered to organize it better. The mess was impeccable. Soon, he found
what he was searching for. Underneath the pile
of tools, a rusty, yet workable, pair of wire cutters sat at the bottom.

Moments before shutting his trunk lid,
a voice broke through the whistling wind.
“Can I help you, sir?”

Nick jumped, and lowered the lid. A
guard stood before him.
“No, I’m good.” Nick smiled. He placed
the wire cutters inside his pants pocket. He
slammed the trunk down. The guard remained
in his wide stance.
“Are you broke down?”
“I have a phone.”
“Then, please, make your call and move
along,” the guard said. His voice was adenoidal.
The sound of it made Nick’s fists clench with
shaking irritation.
Nick raised his brows, but the guard
continued to stand there. “Okay,” he breathed.
“I’ll stay until your accommodations are made.”
The guard relaxed against Nick’s headlight,
lighting up a cigarette.
He stepped away. The guard leered at
him as he pulled his phone from his coat pocket.
He paused for a moment. What he held in his
hand was not his phone. This one was purple.
He rolled his eyes, and switched it with
his
phone.
He held it up to his ear, pretending to
make a phone call.
The guard, winced, interrupted Nick’s
chatter. “Someone coming?”
“Uh, yeah,” Nick breathed. He fixed his
hat. The little girl continued to sit, rolled up into
a ball. “So, uh, what is this place exactly?”
The guard straightened his spine, widening his stance. His voice bellowed, with a
deepened sense of confidentiality. “Sir. I ask
you to not acknowledge the area over there. It
does not exist. I demand you vacate this premises as soon as possible.”
“I’m on the highway! You can’t tell me
to leave a public space.”
He allowed silence to fill the void between them. He shifted then frowned at the
mouthy pedestrian. “Leave, now.”
“Whatever.” Nick reached for his door.
The shadow of the guard blocked the sun from
Nick’s remaining exposed skin. The scent of
sunblock still lingered upon his face.
He propped his elbow on top of his
door. “Can I ask you something?” He cocked his
head to the side. His eyes squinted, but were not
visible behind his darkened shades. The guard
stared heavily at them.
Nick leaned towards the guards’ ear.
His scent intoxicated Nick with an insatiable
need to delve right in. With a half-grin, he whispered, “You know what traveling does to a man?
It makes him…
Hungry
.”
The guard gulped. Sweat beaded down
his temple. His knuckles turned white as he
gripped his gun closer to his body. “Huh?”
Nick yanked the gun from his hands,
wrapping his entire mouth around the neck of
the guard. The guard yelped in pain, as his skin
became a sanctuary of food source.
He released the guard, dropping him to
his knees. The guard began twitching his arms
to his chest. His torso planted on the asphalt.
He trembled as he reached for his gun. But, the
faint light of life left his eyes, leaving his hand to
twitch once more before falling flat.
He looked up at the girl, she stared at
him. Her eyes were wide, but not fearful. Instead, Nick got the feeling that she felt almost
relieved to see him. As if he were what she had
prayed for. He ran towards her, and knelt into
the damp grass. “I’m here to help you.” He felt
this was wrong, but right at the same time.
Never before, had he had to help someone else
other than himself.
The wire cutters began clipping away at
the fence. She watched as he sawed his way
through. The other guards were dismissing this
area. She introduced herself.
He paused, noting her name. “Hello,
Katie. I’m Nick.”
“Do you know my dad?”
Nick shook his head. “Probably not.”
“Then, why are you helping me? Are
you working with Agent Brinks and her partner
Agent Myers?”
He sighed. “Not with them.”
“Then, who?”
“Listen, let me help you. I can explain
later. Just not
here
,” he said. He heard the
harshness in his own voice, but hoped she
wouldn’t take it the wrong way. He really did
want to help her. But how could he if she didn’t
trust him?
She carried her gaze down, leading back
to his. “Okay,” her voice trembled.
“We will find him, okay?”
“You promise?”
“I don’t make promises unless I know
they can be kept.”
She understood. Her father once said
the same thing to her when she asked if her cancer would go away. Even though, at the time,
she knew that nothing would make it just go
away, she gave up hope. Then, it happened. It
did
go away. Despite being transformed into
something ravenous.
Maybe, I could have hope
this time
, she thought.
Guards rushed down from their towers.
“Hurry,” she said, shaken.
Smoke began rolling off his skin.
Guards headed their way. In a grunted
instant, Nick folded back the fence. “Okay, be
careful. Come on.”
She nodded. Guards appeared closer,
maybe three feet away from her. She slid out of
the fence. But, her shoelace was caught between
the rivets of spiked wires. The guards neared
closer. Nick, thinking fast, slid her foot free
from the shoe. She screamed, “No, my shoe.”
Nick pulled her to the road, opening the
back door of his car. “My shoe! My dad got me
these shoes! They’re my only pair!”
He eyed her wobbling lip.
He huffed, contemplating his next decision. He knew what he would be risking. But,
the sadness in her eyes were much like Emily’s
the day their divorce finalized.
He raced back to obtain her shoe. Before a guard was able to swipe his wrist with
their gun, the shoe broke free from the wiring of
the fence.
He hoped into the driver seat, and
tossed back her shoe. “Here.”
“Thank you,” she said, gripping the
shoe close to her stomach.
He turned back to her. “Did they hurt
you?”
She squeezed her eyes tight. “I-I’m not
sure… Maybe. Can we just go, before—.”
Her words were cut short by a vehicle slamming
into the side of Nick’s car. The force caused her
to whack her head on the window of the door.
Nick, however, was able to hold his grip
on the steering wheel. As he felt his body sway
to the side, he gripped the wheel with both
hands, keeping his head close towards the stomach of the wheel. He thanked God that his bag
did not deploy. Yet, he grimaced at the fact it
had not.
He did not dwell on the faulty equipment. Instead, he focused his gaze upon the
black jeep that had just pummeled into him.
I
could have been killed
! Creases of frustration
swept across his face. He looked closer into the
jeep. In the driver seat, sat Brinks.
“Of freaking course,” he screamed
through his teeth. He recognized the bright, orange, glow of her hair. The excitement in her
eyes grew as she kept her gaze on him.
She smiled, pulling her vehicle in reverse.
Nick tried to start his car, but he turned
the key and nothing revved. He tried once more,
only to find the key had broken in the ignition.
He looked at Katie she lacked responsiveness.
He yelled, “Katie, wake up. Katie.”
She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. “Yeah, what happened?”
Nick didn’t have time to respond. The
sound of her engine grew louder. Brinks spun
her tires, heeding towards them. He flung his
arms in front of his face, forcing his eyes shut.
“No, no, no!”
Behind him, he heard the shrill of
Katie’s shriek.
Brinks inched closer towards them. He
kept his eyes shut. A blast of two crashing vehicles rang in his ears. Shaking, he peeled his eyes
open, and realized he remained in place. He
seen an identical jeep. It smashed into her rear
end, rolling her into a ditch.
The mysterious jeep parked next to
them. A darker man protruded out of the vehicle. He flung Nick’s door open. “Come on, we
don’t have much time.”
“Wait who are you?”
“George. Where is Emily?”
“Not here,” Nick said, looking back at
Katie.
George looked off to the side. “Okay,
come on.”
“Why do you need Emily?”
“To warn her who is behind this.”
Even though he became confused, Nick
did not neglect the need to get himself, and
Katie, somewhere safe. He sensed a goodness
from this man. He nodded. “I know where she
is.”
Brinks stepped out of her vehicle. Her
black heels clicked on the pavement. She raised
her gun, pointed at George. “Stop! I will shoot!”
He didn’t listen.
“I’m warning you!” Her hands gripped
firmly on the handle, placing slight pressure on
the trigger.
George still did not listen.
She fired once. All she needed to incur
the change
. Smoke blazed from the barrel, as it
released a bullet she had designed; a CBH bullet. It pierced into his arm.
He dropped to the ground, wincing in
pain. His arm burned, soon burning into his
chest. His pulse pounded hard against his eardrums, and his vision blurred with each beat.
He blinked, and then she was gone.
Tires screeched by them. She rolled
down her window, staring at them with her
steely gaze. She propped her shades above the
brim of her nose. She smiled, almost cackling,
as she sped out.
Nick jumped to his side. “George!” The
blood trickling down his bicep made Nick’s
mouth feel incredibly dry.
George stood up, wobbling in stance.
“I’m fine… Let’s go.”
“Your arm… Are you a—?” Nick said.
George peered down. In his amazement, the hole began sealing itself. “I don’t
think it was meant to kill me…”
“What did she do?”
“I don’t know,” he said, realizing the
sound of his own pulse became incoherent,
ceasing its rhythmic beat. “But I think I’m about
to find out.”