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Authors: Jon S. Lewis,Shannon Eric Denton,Phil Hester,Jason Arnett

BOOK: Evolver: Apex Predator
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"Wake up, Jackson," his father shouted, falling into a widening crevasse. "Wake up or you're going to die!"

 

*

 

Jackson woke to a storm of splinters. He slipped off the couch in Thorn's office to the floor when he heard a familiar roar. He looked up and saw the scaly, armor-plated thing that had tossed him out the window before. It had smashed the door to the office and was trying to work its bulk through the shattered frame. It knocked the tattered remains of the door and its hinges to the floor finally pushing its way into the office.

The monster threw the couch aside, leaving Jackson exposed. Without thinking he tumbled away from the thing, grabbed for the suit and yanked it on. He felt his body tingle again and saw his hand turn scaly. The armor-plated horror swept a gigantic arm and sent Jackson flying across the office into a bookcase which crashed down on him as he fell to the floor. Instead of being crushed by the heavy wood that landed on the big desk in front of them, he was buried in the books that slid off the shelves.

Jackson pulled himself out of the pile of paper. He tried to focus his thoughts to change, but nothing happened. He got to one knee and the monster roared at him again, swung its tail and caught him in the side of the head as he fell backwards and hit his head again on the fallen bookcase.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

Everything was swirling, nauseating him. The entire rainbow whirled one color into another; sounds (music, cars, garbage trucks, children in the park, his parents) overlapped and mixed with each other until they were only recognizable as droning static; he could feel thick, heavy wool under his head that made his skin itch and he was wet. Jackson felt like he was caught in an industrial-strength fishing net that only got tighter and tighter as he struggled to free himself. He shouted incoherently before everything went dark.

And quiet.

He couldn't hear himself shouting, but he knew he was --- he could feel the muscles moving in his jaw, his throat opening and closing. The strands of the net were cutting into him slowly, leaving a waffle pattern of welts on his skin.

Light. Too much light. It hurt and even though he shut his eyes he could still see it in flashes of red and white. He tried to turn his head but it was held fast, his arms tight at his sides, his feet bound. Jackson counted to ten forward then backwards as his father had taught him to do when he was stressed, then opened his eyes a fraction.

Everything was shadowy, indistinct. There were moving things and he felt the vending machine sandwiches rising from his gut, threatening to reappear. He closed his eyes, still saw the flashes of red and white tracing across the backs of his eyelids. His mouth was dry, his skin felt clammy and he was sore from all the fighting, the running. A deep breath and he opened his eyes again.

It took a moment to focus, but he recognized the chamber he was in though the lab beyond was different. Buckles across his wrists, his chest, and both ankles dug into him; he was held tight to the table. Whoever had kidnapped him was taking no chances on him escaping. His head was held by another strap just above his eyes. Jackson could only look straight ahead.

"Ah, you're awake." The voice was filtered through a tinny-sounding speaker but he recognized it. "Good."

"Thorn?" Jackson pulled against his restraints, grunting with the effort. "Thorn?!"

His father's former partner moved into Jackson's sightline. "Yes," he said. "You're quite an amazing specimen, Jackson. Your father should have shared his advances with me. We all would have benefited."

He gave up trying to get free. Jackson felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach and he thought he might throw up. He'd given his trust to a man who betrayed him at the first opportunity.

"I trusted you," Jackson said, his voice raspy and slight. "Let me go."

"Let's test your abilities to adapt first," Thorn said. He was unsmiling, serious, studying the boy on the table. The scientist held up a tablet computer similar to the one Dr. Savage had used at home. "Are you ready?" He swiped at the screen twice, three times, then tapped it once.

Jackson felt radiant heat from above and looked up. There was a ring of square lights that glowed red and the air became dry, began swirling around. He heard a sound beneath him that could have been large grains of salt pouring into a container. "This environment chamber is derived from the old sensory deprivation units from the Seventies," Thorn was saying over the speaker.

"Of course I've adapted it to serve my purposes. Does it feel like a high desert in there?“ He was detached, cold, studying Jackson. “Let's add some
sirocco
, shall we?"

The wind in the chamber gusted, blowing the increasingly brutal hot air mercilessly around him --- picking up what Jackson now realized was sand in the bottom of the chamber and whipping it with awful speed against the glass, against his skin. He started to shout in pain but closed his mouth quickly when hot sand caught on his tongue. He closed his eyes and felt himself begin to change.

His skin beaded up, became scaly. His chest and stomach developed plates that ran from side to side and he got taller, larger. The straps tightened across him and when he opened his eyes he saw color, but he also saw something else behind the normal spectrum, infrared if he wasn't mistaken. He smiled.

Jackson felt stronger and pulled against the straps holding him to the table. With some effort he ripped his right hand free, then pulled at the strap on his left and tore it away easily. He expanded his chest, spread his shoulders flat and flexed. In a matter of seconds he stood on the floor of the chamber, his skin orange and black and the sandstorm and heat showing no visible effect on him.

"Is this what you want?" The words were harsh on his throat, guttural and deep. Jackson didn't sound like himself.

"Amazing," Thorn said. He was surprised when his prisoner leapt at the glass though not surprised enough to forget to tap the screen of his tablet.

Electricity arced and popped as Jackson hit the glass of the environment chamber. Thorn laughed. "Yes, that is what I want. Show me more!" He swiped at the screen again.

Jackson had fallen back into the table and reverted to his human form. "Aaah!" The floor of the chamber was hot and the wind was slowing down though there was still sand swirling about him. He covered his head and his skin beaded up again.

The roof of the chamber opened up and torrents of water spilled down over him. The coolness of it was welcome relief until it dawned on him that it wasn't stopping. The violent undertow of the filling process whipped Jackson over and over. He swallowed a lot of water and remembered the summer he'd gone whitewater rafting in Colorado, of being caught in a particularly nasty "keeper hydraulic". He was buffeted head over heels and banged against the side of the chamber, against the table. Jackson began to panic, just like he had on the river.

What saved him was reflex. On the river he'd jumped out of the boat and been able to swim out of the hydraulic. At the thought of swimming, his skin smoothed out, his fingers and toes grew webs, he felt gills open on his neck and he breathed through the water. The chamber was completely full and the top-down current was easy to swim in with his new form. Jackson waved and smiled at Thorn. He took the opportunity to look at the entire lab.

It was similar to his father's, but there were a lot more computer screens and strange-looking devices that looked kind of familiar. He couldn't see Laurie anywhere, so, with grim determination, he swam back to face Thorn.

"Wonderful," the voice said over the intercom. "What else have you got in you?"

The bottom opened up and the water rushed out as violently as it had rushed in, depositing Jackson on the floor with a heavy thud. He couldn't breathe straight air and his body quickly reverted to normal. He ached, though, and coughed as he got to his hands and knees, noticing he smelled like a fish. There was a mechanical sound of metal on metal below him and he was dripping wet, choking up water he'd swallowed. The floor of the chamber jumped up, sealing off the drains that had been opened when the floor had dropped to release the water.

"What are your limits, I wonder?" Thorn walked around the chamber, his hands behind his back, the tablet on a table nearby. "How do you feel?"

Jackson looked up. "Like a million bucks. Come in and check me out, if you like." He coughed again, spat up more water. He didn't want Thorn to see how wobbly he felt, but he couldn't stay down on all fours

"The wrist gauntlets are ingenious devices and far beyond your father's skills. He couldn't have done this all by himself. Who helped him!" There was only a brief flicker of anger before Ebenezer Thorn regained control of himself.

"He had a lab assistant," Jackson said. "Ask her."

"She doesn't know," Thorn said, continuing to walk around the chamber, "and his files are woefully incomplete. Nothing was found in his house, either. Perhaps your mother knows?"

"She's got nothing to do with this!"

Thorn took up the tablet.

The chamber got cold so fast that condensation and crackling ice formed on the glass and on Jackson's wet body as he struggled to his feet. He could see his breath. He reached out and wiped at the glass so he could see Thorn. Snow began to fall from the ceiling of the chamber; heavy, wet and piling up fast. The wind came back and the temperature dropped precipitously. Jackson fell into the thick covering of snow on the floor and hugged himself, shivering.

There was a blizzard in the chamber. “Yes, perhaps your mother knows more,” Thorn said.

"Leave her alone," Jackson said, his teeth chattering. "I'll kill you if you go anywhere near her."

"I believe you'd give it the old college try," Thorn said with only a hint of sarcasm, "but you’ll never leave this facility alive.”

Snow was burying him despite the involuntary shivering of his body. He felt the tingle again and tried to relax. Rationally, he knew that Thorn would keep going until eventually Jackson couldn't adapt any more: he'd be dead.

His hair lengthened and flowed into a mass of fur about his head, neck and shoulders. His legs grew thicker, longer. His feet grew, too, his hands and arms. He didn't get warm as fur extruded from his skin, which toughened, as much as he just didn't feel the cold any more. His sense of smell heightened and he caught a familiar scent beyond Thorn's. He couldn’t tell if Laurie was close by or not. A layer of muscle and fat formed around his middle and chest under the white fur that stayed dry under the mounting snow.

It dawned on Jackson that his father had discovered things, had known things, that Thorn didn't; that Thorn was jealous of. This realization came with the certainty that this test would the last he'd endure.

In his mind's eye, the red plains next to the blue river turned green and lush. It was spring and everything was beginning to bloom, there was life and not just the blue men, or the grazing mammals, but all kinds of creatures. A small town was standing next to an ancient plaza full of pylons and globes.

"I know you're alive under all that snow," Thorn taunted him, "I can see your vitals on my screens. Let me see what you've become, Jackson. Show me!"

His body sang with joy at the strength that coursed through him. His mind accepted the alien visions, the change from something human to something other, something more, something new and old at the same time. Jackson stirred under the heavy blanket of snow, rose to his feet in what he thought would be the most impressive.

He stood, snow cascading off him in sheets, fully eight feet tall and nearly four feet wide with white fur and hair covering him but barely disguising the musculature, the lengthened features and extremities. He shook himself off, looking as natural in the snow as a glacier at the north pole.

Thorn took a step backward, dropped the tablet that controlled the environment chamber. It wasn't fear that crossed his face, Jackson understood that, it was awe. It was the look that told him that what he was now was far, far more than anything Thorn had thought he might be.

"Let me out," Jackson said. The words didn't hurt his throat the way they had before but they sounded foreign. "Let me out NOW."

"Fantastic," Thorn said regaining some composure. He stood straight and walked around the chamber once again, forgetting the tablet that lay on the floor to his left and behind him now. He leered, leaned in close to the chamber and peered with intense fascination at Jackson.

"I wonder," he said, his voice shaky and full of barely contained excitement, "where Benjamin acquired the DNA of a yeti?"

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

Jackson's mammoth fists smashed into the glass and Thorn fell back scattering lab equipment off the table and across the floor. He recovered though not fast enough to get to the tablet before the glass exploded outward and Jackson was free.

The cold air of the chamber blew into the room and Jackson made for his tormentor, a swirl of snow at his back. He reached out and grabbed Thorn with a huge hand that almost completely encircled the older man's neck, lifted him off the floor to look him in the eye.

"Do you want the police to think you've killed again?" Ebenezer Thorn was struggling to get air to his lungs, to form the words.

"What?"

"You're a wanted man, Jackson," Thorn said through gritted teeth. He had both hands on the arm that held him while his feet dangled off the floor. "Killing me confirms you probably killed your father, too."

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