Bringer of Fire (6 page)

“While intended to create potentially millions of new jobs and spur the economic growth of the United States, the act worried many civil liberties and privacy advocates. Today, we asked Senator Conway about that. Many remember that Conway, who was a key member of the Republican supermajority in control, in conjunction with a Republican-controlled White House, had helped push through the controversial legislation nearly a decade ago,” continued the news anchor.

I stared at the television, taking in the Senator’s beaming smile. He looked like an overly sly investment broker who’d just bilked some old lady out of her retirement savings.

“The Land Reclamation and Investment in America Act continues to propel the United States back to being the world’s premiere economic superpower,” he said. “Millions of jobs are still being created in vital areas of construction, supply, and service industries across this great nation of ours. Throughout history, business and industry was central to America’s growth and success. And now, it’s shaping America into something even greater; something that our children’s children will continue to reap the benefits of.”

I wasn’t sure that I agreed with the senator. However, one thing seemed certain in my mind; our nation had changed considerably during my lifetime.

It wasn’t the era of big government; nor was it the era of small government. It was the undeniable era of corporations.

“But Senator, what of the thousands of Americans who live in many major cities that have been abandoned by these same corporations who are relocating to the new corporate-owned cities, leaving a trail of urban blight and decay in their path?”

The Senator’s features turned serious.

“During every major industrial and economic period of rebirth in our nation’s history, there’ve always been winners and losers. Yet, I’m comfortable knowing that there will be more winners than losers. Besides, nothing stays the same forever. Boom towns rise and fall, but our nation has always bounced back stronger than before from the challenges placed before her.”

Personally, I think that the jury’s still out on that. But then, that’s one of the reasons that I’d relocated to a corporate city like Nevis Corners. The other reason stemmed from being closer to Nuclegene Corporation’s cancer treatment center.

The center that had been destroyed just days ago.

“Are you ready, Logan?”

I looked up to see Maria holding a telltale syringe in one hand.

“Come on, let’s hook you up to an IV drip,” she said. “We’ll set you up on the couch so you can watch TV. But if the company arrives before we’re done, I’ll move you into the bedroom.”

“Thanks for doing this, Maria,” I said.

Her worried expression spoke volumes to me.

“Sure. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Hey, you’re the PA here, not me,” I quipped.

She rolled her eyes at me as she prepared the IV on my left arm.

“Right now, we’re far outside of physician’s assistant territory,” she said.

It seemed as if I’d sat on her couch for a lifetime as the mysterious clear liquid slowly filtered into my body.

To pass the time, we chatted about Maria’s twelve-year-old daughter, Lauren, and her eight-year-old son, Todd. She confided in me about how difficult it’d been to raise two children on her own in the two years since her divorce. Apparently, her ex, Mark, lived in nearby Des Moines and only visited the kids a few times per year.

In all the months I’d visited the treatment center, this was the first time I truly felt like I was getting to know Maria as a person rather than the PA who administered my treatment.

It felt real and sincere; simply two people getting to know each other.

It felt good.

Maria recounted how she’d changed her original college major from chemical engineering to medicine about halfway through her degree program because she wanted to be more directly involved in caring for patients rather than being stuck in a laboratory.

Then the topic changed from the uncertainty of her career with Nuclegene to the friends and co-workers she’d lost in the explosion. I got the definite impression that recent revelations regarding the true nature of Nuclegene’s cancer treatments had given her pause to doubt her employer.

The truth was, I had my doubts, too.

A couple of hours later, Maria removed the IV from my arm, marking it as what I intended to be my final treatment. Frankly, that prospect felt pretty good.

“Remember, as far as I’m concerned, this never happened,” she insisted.

“Got it. How long do you think it’ll take before we know something?” I asked, lightly massaging the small bandaged spot on my arm.

“Hard to say for certain. Perhaps a week,” she said with a shrug. “In the meantime, call me if you have any complications or feel concerned about any side effects.”

I nodded. “I’m already concerned about the side effects.”

“Drink lots of fluids to build up your electrolytes,” she suggested. “That’s your body’s key fuel for your abilities. And keep practicing your skills. I recall that one of the doctor’s journal entries hypothesized that, just as with learning complex math or martial arts, concentration and repetition should strengthen the control and scope of your abilities.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” I said as I turned to leave.

“And, Logan, please be careful,” she warned. “There’s no way to determine how advanced your abilities may become, or how stable they’ll be.”

“Careful is my middle name,” I assured her with a grin.

“Why am I having such a hard time believing that?” she asked.

I spied the mischievous look on her face and winked.

That evening, I fell asleep with no difficulty whatsoever. However, I woke up around four in the morning bathed in a cold sweat. My body felt achy and hot, almost feverish, so I took a shower.

For the first time, I compelled the soap to leap into my palm with little effort. I did the same with the bath towel hung over the shower door. Better, yet, I was able to fling the towel from my hand. It slapped against the mirror as if it had been thrown!

After nearly an hour of playing around with either retrieving or repelling various objects around the house, my body felt weak and my mind flustered. I wandered into the kitchen to pour a large glass of Gatorade.

Three glasses later, I felt somewhat refreshed and reenergized. Maria’s hypothesis regarding replenishing electrolytes seemed to be correct.

I couldn’t help feeling that things like this only happened in comic books; though I scarcely felt like superhero material.

* * *

On Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, and in the privacy of my home, I practiced moving objects both large and small. For the first time in recent memory, I was actually excited about something, and I practiced relentlessly. Maybe it had been the results of my additional treatment on Monday evening, but my progress was shocking.

By Wednesday night, I’d managed to push the dining room furniture across the room, resulting in a throbbing headache afterward. To my relief, I discovered that replenishing my body’s electrolytes with sports drinks reduced my fatigue and lessened the severity of the headaches.

The probing of my limitations revealed a number of unexpected capabilities. While bouncing a small rubber ball against my living room wall one evening, I spontaneously generated an invisible “shield” that kept me from injuring an eye from a wayward bounce.

With practice, I gained a nuanced proficiency in shifting small objects or substances around. Granted, I was using hand gestures as the focal point for my actions like some stage magician, but I did manage to swirl a stack of magazines, newspapers, and a layer of furniture dust into midair, as well as relocate a cloud of steam across the bathroom that I had generated from my hot shower.

Hell, I was playing around just like a kid on summer vacation; but to be honest, it was the most fun that I’d had in a long time.

Chapter 5

By Thursday, I felt confident that I could push somebody over with my newly-refined skills. Still, nothing beat actual physical exercise; the feeling of endorphins surging through my body was invigorating.

Some people were runners, but I preferred jogging immediately following a workday, typically during early evenings. I’d given up that oh-dark-thirty morning workout crap when I left the army. Nowadays, I alternated days between jogging and weight lift training.

Whether jogging or lifting weights, both were great for working off the day’s stress. I’d converted one of the spare bedrooms into a weight room, but I did my jogging in the elaborate park located in the heart of our model corporate city.

I had to admit, Nevis Corners was a nice city, despite having been co-sponsored by a consortium of some of the largest profit-hungry corporations. Frankly, a number of the nation’s shrewdest corporations seemed to be at the center of all the major political and financial corruptions of the past few decades. Still, the politicians catered to them as if they were family.

Hell, I still remembered a few years back when one boastful ultra-conservative senator even tried to sell the idea that corporations were just like
people
.

What an asshole.

Half of the world’s economy was in the shitter, and it seemed as if the only people hurting in our nation were the breathing kind. Meanwhile, the “corporation people” were wallowing in cash reserves and not creating much in the way of jobs for us “breathing people.”

At least I had a steady job at the tag agency.

Count your blessings, they say.

During the second mile of my jog, my cell phone rang. I paused and looked down at the phone’s screen.

Out of area.

“Hello?” I answered, catching my breath.

“Hello, Bringer,” replied a gruff male voice.

“Who is this?”

“The time’s come for you to start making choices,” he said. “Preferably, smarter ones. The less that you discuss with the FBI, the better.”

“And just why should I take advice from some asshole with no name?”

The guy chuckled in a way that oozed self-satisfaction, which annoyed me to no end.

“I think it’s important to keep those close to you safe, don’t you?”

My throat tightened.

“That so? Maybe you’d like to convey that in person?”

The only response was silence.

Jerking the phone from my ear, I quickly realized that the connection had ceased.

Given my sister’s proximity, my first thought was of her. I immediately dialed her house, but got no answer. I glanced at my watch, realizing it was relatively close to dinnertime for them.

I tried both Lexi’s and her husband’s cell phone, but still got no answer. That worried me…a lot. I think that I broke an Olympic record running the distance back to my Dodge Avenger.

The tires squealed as I jammed the gearshift into drive and floored the accelerator. I weaved in and out of traffic like a madman, all the while trying to get hold of my sister’s home or cell.

I tried Kevin’s cell again, to no avail.

As I cut around a slower vehicle and sped through a series of stoplights, I resolved that my typical fifteen-minute drive was going to end ten minutes earlier. Five minutes later, I heard the sounds of sirens somewhere nearby, and a sense of dread set in.

Conjuring years of self-discipline, I focused on the task before me. All I knew was I had to get to my sister’s house.

After what felt like forever, I rounded a corner and careened into my sister’s addition. It was then that I saw the black smoke billowing ahead into the early evening sky.

God, please.

That surprised me. I hadn’t pleaded to Him for anything in a long time.

By the time I made it to my sister’s street, a sick feeling had already formed in the pit of my stomach. I could see reddish-yellow flames and black smoke pouring out of the roof of Lexi’s two-story house.

A small group of people were gathered in the front yard. It looked like my brother-in-law and my little nephew, Jake, were among them. Both were on their hands and knees coughing. Neighbors appeared to be tending to them the best that they could.

I ran my car up into their neighbor’s empty front yard, and catapulted out of the driver’s seat to rush over to Kevin.

“Kevin! Where are Lexi and Kristie?”

Kevin hacked like some chain smoker at the end of his rope and shook his head.

“Still inside,” he gasped. “Going for them next…”

The sounds of sirens permeated the air, though it was of little solace. I had no intentions of waiting on them.

“Stay here,” I ordered.

I flew onto the porch at a dead run, impacting a wall of angry black smoke as I entered the front door. My mind reeled as I tried to figure out where they might be.

“Lexi! Kristie!” I yelled.

I coughed and immediately realized that I didn’t have much time. The roar of flames and a wall of heat loomed toward the kitchen to my left. I tried to visualize the layout of the house as I reasoned where they might be.