Evolution (2 page)

“How long have you been down there?” spoke the mousey teen.

She waved her hand in front of my blank stare, trying to elicit a response

“Hello...anyone home?”

I slowly shifted my gaze to her, seeing her for the first time.

I...I...I ‘m not sure!” Is all I could manage to stammer out.

“It must have been awhile, judging by how well you know the subway. We would set hour fires for you, but you would never come. I’m glad you made it.”

A warm smile flashed across her face. Between the dirt and tattered clothes, her bright blue eyes hinted at kindness. A splash of freckles was spread across her petite facial features and her long mangled red hair still retained its original luster. I could tell she was a knock-out. That is, before the end of mankind she was a very attractive and normal teenager.

“I’m glad to see other survivors in the city. I’ve seen clues that were left behind, but until now I haven’t found a soul.” I spoke without letting my eyes meet hers.

“That was Boomers idea; he is a genius of sorts.”

The large man brought his meaty hand to my head and ruffled my scraggly brown hair.

“Boomer is Autistic.”

“He doesn’t talk, but I talk enough for the two of us” She let out a school girl giggle and held out her hand.

“My name is Alex...That is Alexia, but I hate that name. You can call me Alex”

I brought my bloody hand up, momentarily forgetting about my battle in the subway. The shocked look in her eyes told me that she wasn’t coming near it anytime this century.

“Eewey, you’re dripping! Don’t worry; we have a first aid kit back at the house.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, besides...Boomer has taking a liking to you. He is usually a great judge of character. I remember once when he...Never mind, I will tell you after we get you fixed up.”

I felt the most unnatural forced smile spread across my lips. Before I could protest, Boomer wrapped his massive arms around me and picked me up. My breath caught as he squeezed and gave me a shake before setting me back down.

The memory of the tiger back in the subway flashed before my eyes. How little effort it took for him to kill, and how effective he was. At six foot four and well over three hundred pounds of muscle, the tiger never stood a chance. Yet, he seems so completely harmless. I guess it goes without saying, that it's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for. I’m just glad he’s on my side.

“Trevor”

A look of confusion told me that I had lost Alex’s attention

“Huh?”

“You told me your name, my name is Trevor” Not having said my name in a long time, I more spat it out than said it, but the point must have stuck.

She smiled and pointed at a building in the distance.

“Do you want to see something neat, Trevor?” Not waiting for a reply, she pulls a remote from her pocket and presses the large black button.

Loud clicks resonate as I watch dozens of large solar panels rotate.

“We have electricity, neat huh?”

“But how did you...”

“Our father was a scientist. He had our house built underground and set up to be completely self-sustaining. They call them Earth-Ships.”

“Where is your father now?”

Alex stared at her feet and kicked a small rock, propelling it towards the side of an old Volkswagon. With a ping it bounced off of the fiberglass body and landed a few feet away.

“He was called into ground zero...whatever that means. He was a Bio-Technologist Working for the government when he was sent into San Francisco. They told him to take samples of the pods and find out how they reproduced. They hoped he could find the key to stopping the growth. For month’s he studied, playing with one doo-hickey then another. Finally, he found out what makes them tick. He knew how to stop them from growing pods. He made a backup copy of his findings and took the disk to Dr. Jackson back in San Francisco. Before leaving he told us that if he doesn’t return to take the backup to Dr. Jackson, he would know what to do! That was two months ago.”

I could sense the agony and see the tears threaten a meltdown. Poor kid, I thought to myself. I followed silently behind Boomer as Alex opened the door into her home. The whole place smelled of dirt. It wasn’t completely unpleasant, just different than the moldy smell of the subway.

Once inside, the tiny doorway opened up into a large round living area. The walls were built around old tires and recycled materials. The floor was soil carpeted with a layer of very green grass. A nice circular sofa awaited company next to a rather expensive flat-screen television. All and all, it was surprisingly cozy, nothing like I pictured in my mind. Alex proceeded to give me the “Grand Tour” and showed me their way of life, one room at a time. It was a true marvel of engineering. Many shoots ran this way and that, separating rain water into drinkable water and toilet water. The most impressive of all though, was how the kitchen had a vegetable garden growing from the soil of the floor. Alex hands me a cold soda from the fridge, opening hers and chugging half of it.

She led me back to the living room, where an over- zealous Boomer was clicking away on a controller. A constant smirk stayed on his face as he navigated from level to level on his game system. I have to admit, Boomer is starting to grow on me too!  A happy feeling washes over me as I stare blankly at the screen. Just the act of seeing a working television set seems to give me a sense of hope for mankind, a new sense of belonging in a world that has outgrown us.

I heard a quiet snap, and looked over to see Alex holding a roll of gauze and a sewing needle dangling with thread. She must have heard my sharp inhalation, because she gave me a stern look.

“Come on Trevor, don’t be a baby.”

The sewing needle glinted in the light; the sheer ominous look in her eyes seemed to frighten me. It could be my imagination, or she could be a twisted demented freak. For all I know, she could be a mass murderer wielding a sewing needle instead of a butcher knife. I guess only time will tell. I felt her cold hand touch the wound, forcing a small trickle of blood to run down my palm. The lights became even brighter and the sounds were more vivid. I could hear a phone ring in the background...phone? By the time I realized my ears were ringing, it was too late.

“There you go...All done.” Alex smiled

I regained consciousness and examined her handywork. It was surprisingly thorough for a teenager. I take a moment, looking around the room. Everything seemed to be back to normal. Even Alex was back to a pretty, petite teen. Her Maniacal alter ego left the building. It was all so incredible, but something still lurked in the back of my mind. Something that seemed to nag at me, making me question the reality I was now experiencing. I had to ask.

“Can I ask you something?” My eyes caught a glimpse of her milky white abdomen and I had to fight with myself to break away my gaze. Alex continued her stretch and worked her way through a yawn before answering me with a simple “uh-huh”

“How come the vines never took over your home? As lovely as it is, by now it should be crawling. I mean....At least you should have a few smashed solar panels shouldn’t you?”

“Weed Killer” Alex replied. I couldn’t help but laugh at her, such an obvious answer that all of mankind could have survived. How do you stop an army of killer plants? spray them with weed killer.

“Come on Alex, how did you protect your home?” I laughed

“My father sprayed a high concentrated genetically altered weed killer around our home. It won’t kill them, but they won’t come near it. Unfortunately, time was limited and he only had the one batch. He could never reproduce the outcome a second time...In a nutshell, we got lucky.”

I rattled the empty soda can before setting it down on the coffee table. The large body of Boomer sat slumped on the floor, controller still in the ready position. Every few seconds a loud snore would resonate from his sinus cavities, followed by an involuntary twitch of his thumb. To my surprise, a congratulation’s came from the man on the television. Boomer had just beaten the game in his sleep. Alex just winked at me and smiled

“He does that. We only own one game, and he plays it day and night.” she said. All I could do is chuckle, such marvelous things have happened to me in the last twelve hours, why not add this to the list. The quiet of the night seemed to rest my nerves a bit and I finally realized how tired I have become.

“Do we just stay here? I mean we are safe aren’t we?”

“My father gave us specific instructions, tomorrow we leave for San-Francisco.”

“In the daylight? Are you nuts?” I was suddenly reminded of all the bad things that happen when you go against your gut feelings. Right now, my gut says no way!

“What if he was right Trevor? What if there is a way to stop them? We may be the world’s only hope.”

“The world’s only hope? How are two teenagers and an Autistic man going to save the world? I couldn’t even save myself, remember? I had to have Boomer do it.”

“We leave tomorrow, with or without you!”

Alex crossed her arms in front of her chest and brought forth an awful frown. The type that can burn right through your heartstrings and scorch your soul if you stare at it long enough. I knew I was sunk, what other options did I have? I knew I would go back to being lonely and afraid if I stayed.

“Fine, we leave tomorrow.” I muttered

“Yay! Did you hear that Boomer, he’s coming with us!” She smiled and threw her arms around me, like we were old friends reunited after many years. As if responding to his sister, A nasty snore rippled through Boomers nostrils.

“We better get some sleep then.”

*~*~*

Chapter 2

My sleep was fitful. For many nights I slept crumpled like a discarded used tissue using my shirt as a pillow against the cold unforgiving vinyl benches inside the rail cars. My body seemed to utterly reject the idea of comfort. It seemed so right, yet out of place in my own existence. My legs fully extended and a proper pillow under my head I tossed and turned and attempted sleep.  At some point my overly anxious mind must have decided to rest and terror trampled through my subconscious. The horrors of my first encounter with the pod creatures replayed slowly and vividly in my mind. I was there. I could see it all, smell it all, and feel the fear tingling at the base of my spine.

I could smell my mother’s perfume, a cross between honey-suckle bushes and vanilla, she seemed to sink into our sofa, becoming more a part of it than resting on it. It was barely evening time and her and father both just escaped the corporate jungle, meeting up with each other for the first time that day since some magical period between the bus stop and the school bell. Father’s leather brief case rested to the left of the sofa, a silent testament to the raw power of a loving husband and devoted father. He seemed to more rip than loosen the silk tie from his neck and tossed it on the back of the sofa, its final resting place. The smell of mom’s home cooked meal wafted past the rod iron skillet and seemed to engulf the atmosphere. To me this was another day in a wonderful life my family worked so hard for.

I sat at the kitchen table, my fifth grade math book open and a puzzled look on my face. Numbers danced back and forth in my mind, inverting and reverting, commas jumping from one zero to the next as I tried so hard to concentrate, to get it right. Tiny bite marks started to appear on the soft wooden edge of the number two writing utensil. I remember a loud sigh and a loud clomp as father dropped his weight and landed next to mother. Everything seemed so perfect.

I heard the steady click and the non-whimsical sounds of many fictious people in the background as my father jumped from channel to channel on our television set. Something important must have happened because all the channels suddenly became one voice. Our president’s voice. Still nothing more than background noise to me, I diligently stared at the dancing numbers and tried hard to make two obscure numbers magically create an answer someone much smarter than I decided it should be. On the paper I seen little bubbles, tiny circles I am supposed to scribble in when I conclude that the comma is in the right place and when multiplied with another couple of thousand numbers it will somehow equal what’s just to the right that bubble.

I rubbed my eyes and stared blankly at number twenty three. Only two more questions left and I will be finished. I was so anxious to be done with math and go play that I must have missed the panic in my mother’s voice. That seems to be my only regret. If I would have known the severity of the situation I would have asked what was wrong. I would have hugged my parents and I would have spent the last few hours of their lives telling them what I wanted to be when I grew up.

It was an impossibility for a child of my age to truly understand adult things. No, all I heard was my mother telling me to go to my room and play. I didn’t fight it, after all, playing sounded much more fun than math. Without hesitation I slammed my homework into my backpack and trampled up the stairs. I smiled warmly at the inviting glow of the white screen washing over my face. I turned up the sound and became immersed in a pixel world of an expensive game.

Downstairs I could vaguely hear the sobs of my mother and the steady thumping of father’s boots as he ram sacked the living room looking for unknown items. I became worried, but tried to click away at the buttons, hoping things were alright, trusting that they were. Sometime between level five and the main boss I heard a loud scream, a horrible blood curdling scream. In a blind panic I threw my system to the ground and came rushing down the stairs, taking them two at a time hoping to shave precious seconds off of my rescue time.