Predominance (21 page)

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Authors: H. I. Defaz

BOOK: Predominance
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“Victor!” Sarah chided me, realizing my feelings were getting too intense for me to control. “Maybe you need to step outside for a moment.”

I exhaled sharply, understanding Sarah's concern, and turned and headed for the door. “Victor?” Yvette tried to intercept me at the door, her brows knitted in confusion.

“I'm fine,” I lied unconvincingly. “I just need some fresh air.” I forced a smile and opened the door.

“Okay,” she breathed. “If you say so.”

I faked another smile and walked away.

I wasn't trying to lie to Yvette by keeping her in the dark about my condition. I honestly thought I had it under control—and that somehow I could find a way to reverse the change. I suppose my logic was blinded by hope. Whatever the case, I didn't want her to know that the man she loved was turning into a monster. Not until I was absolutely sure there was no turning back.

I walked back to the pond, wringing my hands, trying to keep them from shaking. For a second, I felt that dreadful contest within my mind, where my anger tried to overpower my will and become my reason. I closed my eyes and, once again, I began to work to calm my mind. But to my frightened surprise, abating my anger was becoming increasingly difficult—and I was beginning to feel my evil extreme battering at my defenses. After a few minutes of mental battle, I was able to regain complete control over my thoughts and feelings. However, the struggle had left me weak and irritable—the perfect state for the dark energy to strike again.

A twig snapped behind me. “I asked you to stay in the cabin, Yvette,” I said wearily, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hands.

“It's not Yvette.” Sarah's counter made me turn; her voice seemed changed, somehow, unlike the friendly tone I used to hear from her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… just, uh… just a little shaken up, that's all.” I forced a smile.

“Really?” She sounded upset. “You're going to lie to me, too?”

“I'm not lying to anybody, Sarah.”

“Victor, Yvette just asked me what the hell happened with you in that room,” she scolded. “She's completely oblivious about your condition.”

“What did you tell her?” I asked frantically.

“I didn't know what to say!” Her response put me at ease; I sighed. “Victor, you need to tell her.”

“There's nothing to tell.” I turned my eyes to the pond; I couldn't lie to her face. “I can control it, and if I can control it, I can reverse it.” I tried to sound as convincing as I could, but I'm sure my body language was giving me away. I've never been a good liar.

“Can you?”

I turned to look at her; her eyes, like her words, were filled with disbelief. I had to look away again. “Look, Victor,” she began. “I know you think you're protecting her. But you can't protect anybody by keeping the truth from them. That only complicates things even more. And in the end, you're only going to hurt her.”

“I'll—”

“Look, you're not alone. I'm going to help you exhaust every single possibility in an effort to stop the change, and even reverse it if we can. But you need to be open to the idea that we may not succeed. And if that's the case, don't you think that she'd love you more if you'd let her be there for you and help you try? I know I would—I mean…” she trailed off. “She deserves to know, Victor.”

I turned back to her, shaken by her acumen. She was making too much sense for me to ignore. “You're right. She deserves to know.”

Sarah sighed, relieved that she had gotten through me. She gave me a quick smile and turned back to the cabin.

“Sarah?” I called, realizing that something she said had intrigued me. She turned. The wind blew her ginger curls out of her face; her eyes opened wide, waiting for my words. “Are you really willing to exhaust every single possibility for me?”

“Of course.” She seemed surprised that I'd asked.

“Why?”

“Saving your life is becoming a bad habit, I guess.” She let out a soft chuckle. “Besides, we're friends, right?” She turned to walk back to the cabin.

“Sarah?” I called again.

She stopped and turned to me once again, lifting her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

I had never meant those words as much as I did at that moment. And though she gave me no reply, I know she felt the sentiment in my voice. She just smiled her dimpled smile and walked away.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

Mayhem

 

 

 

I STAYED BEHIND
, facing the pond, wondering how to break the news to Yvette without freaking her out. After a few minutes of brain-wracking, I realized there was no way she wouldn't freak out, so I decided to just steel myself and tell her.

By then, gray clouds had begun to streak the sky, blown in by the sporadic breeze that had been chasing us all morning. I closed my eyes and let the first drop of rain hit my face, amused by the fact that I could feel it before it actually reached my skin.

I ran back inside as soon as I felt the deluge coming down above me, and hit the door just as the rain began to pour. I was determined to talk to Yvette immediately. I cleaned my shoes on the ancient welcome mat that lay at the front door and walked in, but Sarah intercepted me before I could find Yvette. “I think you need to talk to Damian,” she said, frightened. “He's really freaking me out.”

“Okay,” I answered, confused. A quick glance into the living room made me realize what Sarah was talking about. Damian was loading weapons with Denali. They were standing next to a gun cabinet I'd failed to notice when we first arrived. It seemed that Denali was either a gun collector, or one of those people who prepares for Armageddon. Whatever the case, he was packed. “What the hell's going on?” I asked.

“I've wasted enough time here,” Damian responded aggressively, never taking his eyes from the double-barrel shotgun he was loading. “I have to get to my wife.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Wait a second!” I exclaimed. “You can't just go to your cabin waving guns around.”

“Why the hell not?” He tucked a pistol in the back pocket of the camouflage army pants he was wearing.

“Well, for starters, the place is probably already guarded. We talked about this! These people have orders to shoot us on sight.”

“Not us, Victor.” Damian stared at me as he said these words. He turned to Denali and gave him the kind of look a boss would give to a servant. Head down, Denali walked away. Damian leaned over next to me and whispered, his voice ominous, “I know why they killed that kid back at the Lab. They thought it was you.” He moved back, his face stony. He no longer whispered. “Dr. Walker wants you dead, Victor. Not us. Back in the Lab, we were just bait in order to attract you.”

“And what makes you think that?” I tried to sound as indifferent as possible. I was getting the vibe that Damian didn't like me very much, and to be honest, I was beginning to feel the same way about him. It was nothing personal; on the contrary, it was something I couldn't control. If there's an innate nature in cats and dogs that makes them hate each other, then Damian and I were definitely developing something of the sort.

“I can sense it, Victor.” He gave me a portentous smile. “The same way you can.” His face reflected nothing but arrogance, as if he were trying to show off what he was capable of now. This wasn't the same man I'd spoken to on the highway.

“Then you should be able to sense the danger I sense about this.” My words came out as fast as I thought them. “If you go in in an offensive mode, you'll lose. You and your wife will be killed.”

The cocky grin suddenly disappeared from his face and his eyes turned hesitant, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe me. The truth was that I couldn't sense any danger in that peaceful place, let alone his wife, who was at least ten miles away. But I needed to do something to make him listen. I wasn't trying to scare him, but to save him from making a big mistake. His plan was a terrible idea, and I didn't need special powers to see that—just common sense and a tad of reality check.

“You can sense that?” he asked, dead serious.

“Yes,” I replied earnestly, trying to fill my voice with conviction. “You're going to get us all killed with your commando strategies if you're not careful.”  

“So, do you have a better idea?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”  

For the next hour we discussed a plan that involved a note that Damian was going to write, directing his wife to meet him at a restaurant on the outskirts of town—a public place full of people. Denali was to deliver the note, driving an old pickup truck he kept in the garage. The old Toyota Tacoma belonged to his dad, who used to run his own landscaping business, Johnson & Sons. Fortunately, the logo was still visible on both sides of the black sand pearl truck, which would definitely work to our advantage. Denali even had his dad's old overalls, which he was going to wear in order to create the perfect disguise.

Meanwhile, Damian and I were to drive Denali's sedan to the restaurant and wait for his wife to arrive. But Damian insisted on going to the cabin, too—and he wouldn't have it any other way. He maintained that he could hide in the truck bed while Denali delivered the message. He said that he would know if anything was wrong just by gauging her reaction. I personally thought that he just wanted to see her, which I felt was an unnecessary risk. But then again, who was I to judge? I'd just hiked a rainforest for three days with absolutely no provisions, just to break into a highly guarded facility and dodge bullets on my way out, all so I could rescue the woman I loved.

Eventually Damian won the argument, and we agreed to hide in the truck bed while the note was delivered. Yes—we. I told Damian that I'd hide there with him in case he needed my help. And despite the fact that he was acting oddly hostile towards everybody, I had never turned my back on a promise. Dad had always taught me that a man's word is his bond, and I wasn't going to betray his teachings—or his memory, for that matter. My decision to go on this trip wasn't well received by Yvette, who sat in the middle of the living room, listening to us argue.

“What?” Yvette jumped up from the sofa when I proposed this. “Why? Why do you have to go?”

I quickly pulled her aside to talk to her—although I don't know why I did that, as the living room was a fifteen by fifteen box without much privacy. Nonetheless, I tried to keep my voice down. “I have to go, Yvee. I promised Damian I would. I'm sorry, but I can't back out on my word.”

Yvette's blue eyes turned as angry as they could be, and for a moment I thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. “Then I'm going with you!” she said angrily. Everyone in the room heard her.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Sarah said from behind me—a comment that only fed Yvette's anger.

Yvette looked slowly around my shoulder and met Sarah's stare. “I couldn't care less what you think, Sarah.” She enunciated her name slowly and defiantly. Sarah's eyes widened; then she shook her head, got up from the sofa, and left for the kitchen—but not without throwing a nasty scowl at Yvette on her way through.

Yvette swung her angry eyes back at me and continued. “I just got you back, Victor.” Her angry tone was now edging toward sadness. “I don't want to lose you again.” Her words registered in my brain as a dreadful possibility, and suddenly I began to have an uneasy feeling about the whole thing. Damian saw the conflict in my eyes.

“Victor,” he said quickly, “We don't have time for this!”

Looking around my shoulder, Yvette turned angry again, scowling at Damian; she seemed ready to counter his comment with a snide response. But something else happened: she suddenly swayed
back and forth, as if about to lose her balance. She shook her head and shut her eyes tightly, fighting against an obvious wave of weakness. “Yvette?” I blurted, “Are you all right?”

She took hold of my arms and opened her eyes. She looked confused, disoriented. “Victor?” Her voice sounded frightened.

I fastened my hands around her arms, trying to stabilize her, but her limp body collapsed in my arms. I quickly carried her over to the love seat and called for help. Sarah came running from the kitchen as I knelt on the floor next to the sofa. I brushed the hair away from Yvette's face and waited for her to react, but nothing happened. She was completely out. Sarah knelt next to me on the floor and checked Yvette's vitals. “What happened?” she asked softly.

“I don't know. We were talking, and the next minute she collapsed.”

“Her pulse is strong,” Sarah said, pressing her thumb on Yvette's wrist. Then she held an eyelid wide open. “Her pupillary response is normal, and so is her breathing.” She cursed in dismay and turned to meet my stare. “She's fallen into the same comatose state as Roger.”

“What will happen to her?” I asked, suddenly feeling disheartened.

“I don't know. It's hard to tell. The reaction from the serum varies from patient to patient. It also depends on the amount of radiation used, and the specific area of the brain targeted. And I know nothing of her particular procedure—or Roger's, for that matter.” Sarah got up from the floor and looked at me with rueful eyes. “But if I had to theorize, I'd say this is the result of a completely different procedure than the one you and Damian went though. Dr. Walker might have been experimenting on different groups of dormant cells with them. The side effects are unpredictable.”

My mind pointed in thousand different directions at that moment. I didn't know what to do, think, or feel; I just wanted so badly for this nightmare to be over. I felt like I couldn't solve a problem without having another one bash me over the head—it was pure mayhem. “What about Laura?” I asked, taking advantage of the fact that she had stepped out of the living room.

Sarah rubbed her forehead and lowered her voice. “She seems to be okay… for now. Still, the timing doesn't add up with her. I doubt her procedure was the same as Yvette and Roger's.”

“What can we do?” My voice was dispirited now.

“Like I said, we have no choice but to wait.”

“Well, I guess she did manage to make you stay after all,” Damian burst out angrily.

“You're an asshole!” Sarah shouted, fed up with Damian's attitude.

I, on the other hand, ignored him, knowing how fast my anger could escalate if I didn't control it. I just stayed by Yvette and ran my fingers through her hair.

“Look,” Damian began again, his voice remorseful now. “I'm sorry. I really am. But I can't wait another minute. My wife needs me too. And I know that if anybody could understand that it's you, Victor.” He interpreted my silence as my reply and sighed. “All right, then. Let's go, Denali.”

“Wait!” I snapped and got back to my feet. “I'm coming with you!” I kissed Yvette on the forehead and turned to Sarah, who was scowling at me.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“The right thing,” I answered firmly. “And please, don't!” I stopped her before she could utter a word, knowing exactly what she'd try to do. She frowned, as if angry at the fact that I'd anticipated her thoughts. “I need you to stay here, Sarah. Take care of them. Please, take care of—”

“Don't worry,” she interjected. “I'll look after her… I promise.” She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me.

“Thank you, Sarah.”

“Promise me you'll be careful,” she whispered in my ear before she kissed me on the cheek.

“I will,” I promised. “I'll be back.”

 

***

 

The day, which had started beautifully with my reunion with Yvette, had turned once again bitter and uncertain. Yvette was now in a comatose state similar to Roger's, and we had absolutely no idea why. Damian, on the other hand, was frightening me more by the minute. I wasn't sure if his odd behavior was triggered solely by his fretfulness over getting his wife back, or if the change was already spreading through him, like an unstoppable cancer. What if this dark energy was infecting his volition progressively, rather than in one single snap of anger, as I was dreading would happen to me? What if Damian was already changing in front of my eyes?

These questions rambled inside my mind as I thought of my own fate, and about what the right thing to do would be if we couldn't stop our change. I mean, if the desire to do evil was the only power that would drive us after the change, then our supernatural abilities would become a major threat to society—a hazard that would need to be contained, even destroyed. Maybe Dr. Walker was right: we would simply be too dangerous to be allowed to live. Maybe I should start thinking about a back-up plan, I thought... something I should do in case the change became inevitable.

All these questions bombarded my brain, just like the heavy rain that blasted the plastic cover that concealed us in the back of the truck. A little sliding window in the back of the cabin kept us in contact with Denali, who despite my suggestions was driving with a couple of rifles on the passenger's seat. Damian's idea, of course, obediently followed by Denali. I couldn't help but be curious about that.

After closing the sliding window that separated us from the cabin, I finally asked Damian what the deal was between the two of them. He had to explain a little more about himself in order for me to understand Denali's new disposition. That's when I learned that Damian was a renowned and wealthy lawyer in California. His firm was one of the top ten in the country, and he just happened to be their most recently appointed partner. “Did you know that Denali's engaged to be married?” Damian asked. “And that his fiancée wants a dream wedding?”

“Yes,” I answered, trying to follow his explanation.

“Well,” he continued, “Let's just say that my wedding gift will cover that and more.”

“I see.” My tone was ironic. Everything made sense now; I just hoped poor Denali wouldn't get stiffed in this deal. It was nothing personal toward Damian, it's just that I've never trusted lawyers, especially the ones with a lot of money. There's a reason why they have so much, and it's not because they're generous.

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