Amoeba (The Experiments) Page 2

  Jake was amazed. “That was a really good explanation.”

  “Thanks. Just remember, it takes time.”

  Jake looked at his watch. “Well, seeing how you know women, exactly how long do you think it will take for her to adjust? I can see it wearing on my patience.”

  “Jake, what is wrong with you? She’s not been here twenty-four hours yet.”

  “I know.” Jake finished his coffee and stood up. “But I want to get rolling on this relationship we started. Move on to the next phase.”

  “In all seriousness, Jake, besides her getting used to you, and trust me, you’re tough to get used to, what about the other adjustment?”

  Jake paused in pouring his coffee. “What other adjustment?”

  “Mentally getting over the shit you two went through up there.”

  Jake fluttered his lips and poured his coffee. “It’ll take no time. Cal’s tough. You should have seen her up there. Like me, I don’t think it will even faze her.”

  I-S.E. Twelve - Seal River Complex, Manitoba, Canada

  March 6th - 4:40 a.m. CST

  Leonard’s dimflash light and Billy’s bright one were the only things leading the way in the dark morning as he and Billy tromped through a small wooded section. They hadn’t seen any Caldwell people when they hovered again, so they landed near the river and left the chopper there

  “I cannot believe you have me doing this,” Leonard commented.

  “Doing what? I told you I would have flown here alone,” Billy commented, having to look up at Leonard as they walked. Not that Billy was short, he was average and thin, but Leonard was a bigger man and lean.

  “Oh, sure. When did you get your license? Three months ago. I feel like a father with his teenage son every time I fly with you.”

  “You remind me of my stepfather. He used to grab the wheel from me constantly. Like you grab the stick.” Billy fussed with the camera.

  “We were sideways, Bill. And look at you with that camera. You’re not getting any good shots.”

  “We may.”

  “You’re not a great photographer, Bill.”

  “Is there possibly anything else you’d like to insult me on? Go on, get it out of the . . .” Billy stopped walking as they emerged from the woods.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Billy sniffed. “Do you smell that?”

  Leonard took a long inhale, and there was a slushy sound.

  Billy looked at him through the corner of his eyes. “That was really gross.”

  “I’m clogged up. What do you want me to do?”

  Smelling again, then making a face, Billy continued walking. “Damp and musty.”

  “Death.”

  “No. If I meant death, I would have said death. I said damp and musty.” They neared what was left of the complex. “Holy shit. Look at this place.”

  “What exactly are you hoping to find that the workers did not?”

  “What they plan on finding today.” Billy’s flashlight shone about the debris. “It looks like a tornado ripped through this place.”

  “I’m not understanding your obsession.”

  “They did something to these people. I know it.”

  “What would be the point?”

  Billy shook his head. “I don’t know that either.” Billy raised the beam of the flashlight and aimed it at the small temporary silver trailer that had been set up. “What’s the chance of that being unlocked?”

  “Not good.” Leonard watched Billy move to it. “Bill, come on. This is a highly regarded experiment. They release their findings to not only medical journals, but the military as well. Don’t you think if something was foul with this it would have been discovered years ago?”

  “How?” Billy arrived at the trailer. “How would they discover it? What if their reports are doctored to fit the needs, and possibly not the total truth?” Billy pulled on the door.

  “What would make you believe that?” Leonard questioned.

  “Because they weren’t totally honest on how they got all their participants. It’s an interviewing process. Only the best go? Bullshit, Len. If that’s the case, then why would they deliberately have a killer released from a mental institution to come here? I’ll tell you why. To add drama perhaps? Make the experiment interesting? Bet me that none of these participants knew they had a killer among them.” Billy tugged at the door again.

  “How do you know they did this?”

  “Trust me, I know. And because I know this for a fact is why I’m allowed to tag this story and follow it to the next experiment if need be.”

  “If you don’t get us arrested first. Please quit with that door. It’s locked.”

  Billy finally stopped pulling it. “You think we should break in?”

  “I think you should do this legitimately. But since we’re here, you might as well try a credit card or something because that door looks cheesy.”

  Billy grinned. “Do you have one?”

  Shaking his head, Leonard reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took a card from it and handed it to Billy.

  “Hold the light for me.” Billy bent over and raised the card to the crease of the door. Just as he began to insert it, he heard a slight growl. “Man, Len, you should have eaten. Your stomach is loud.”

  “That wasn’t my stomach, Billy.” Leonard looked down at Billy.

  Billy slowly stood up. Another growl echoed at them.

  With caution, at the same time, both men turned around holding their flashlights. The instant the beams shone outward was the instant another growl, this time fierce and loud, cried at them. The ray of light hit only in a flash on the fangs, and without warning, the large body of a silver back wolf lunged forward at them mouth open. The jaws clenched immediately onto Leonard, and the weight of the wolf topped him to the ground.

  Leonard painfully screamed out for help, struggling in a fight with the wolf that pinned him down. Billy looked around for something, anything, to nail the wolf with. Racing to the rubble, he grabbed a board. His hands shook and his heart pounded as he watched the wolf snarl, its huge head rapidly moving back and forth as it tore the flesh from a now silent Leonard’s chest.

  As Billy went to swing at the wolf, he saw that the only movement coming from Leonard was the tossing of his limp body like a rag doll as the wolf fed upon him in an angry hunger. Billy dropped the board and backed up. The clunk of the board to the ground caused the wolf to turn its blood-stained head Billy’s way. Moving backwards, Billy caught the glow of its eyes. Then, in a running spin, Billy took off toward the wooded area, praying with every step he pounded into the ground to reach the safety of the helicopter.

  Billy didn’t want to look back. He didn’t want anything to slow down his determined run from the wolf he now heard chasing after him.

  The woods seemed longer as his breath huffed and his heart pounded in near perfect synchronization with the beast that raced behind. And then Billy saw it, the end of the woods, the blackness of the chopper that sat, door open.

  “Please,” Billy begged in his mind. “Please God.” And with everything he had, Billy pulled more from inside of him and charged toward the helicopter, leaping inside.

  He landed inside hard, stumbling in his jump. Billy quickly rolled over, and saw the charging wolf only a few feet away. His trembling hand reached blindly for the door as his eyes stayed fixed on the beast. Finally gripping the handle, Billy began to pull it, and the wolf jumped forward, jaws open, slamming into the metal of the chopper door just as the door shut.

  Amidst the banging of the determined wolf, the rapidness of Billy’s breathing, and the thumping of his heart in his chest, Billy moved to the front of the chopper. The banging grew louder, and Billy’s whole body shook in fear as he sat in the pilot’s seat. He looked back to the door to see the metal bending. “Shit.” Billy fumbled with the controls, and finally, through amateur awkwardness, he started the helicopter’s engines.

  Fort Bragg, North Carolin
a

  March 6th - 6:05 a.m.

  Cal was wanting to kill Jake for ruining her enjoyment of sleeping in on a Sunday. Her body just wouldn’t do it. It wouldn’t stay in bed if the sun was shining even slightly. She knew the sleep thing was going to be top priority on the list of things she was going to have to change in her after-experiment life.

  After getting dressed, Cal made the bed for two good reasons. One, it passed the time until the coffee was finished, and two, she didn’t want to hear Jake bitch about it. Making her way back downstairs, feeling a little more awake, the weird feeling of being in a new place finally set in. The small military style townhouse kept so neat and clean by Jake. Clinical would be the best way Cal could describe it. It even amazed her that when she opened up the cupboard, Jake had all the cups upside down and all the handles pointing right. Perfect spacing was in between each mug. She even had to snicker at the markings Jake made on the counter for each of his appliances so they, too, were perfectly placed.

  After pouring a cup of coffee and moving the toaster over half an inch, Cal grabbed a Ho-Ho, unwrapped it, and proceeded back to the living room. Not a step into the room, not a bite into her cake, and the front door opened.

  Jake slowed in his walk in, the paper under his arm. “Morning. You’re finally awake.”

  Cal tried to swallow the cake and choked some. She wiped her mouth and laughed. “Jake, do you always run around outside in your underwear?”

  Jake looked down. “No.” He shut the door and stepped inside. “I was over Chuck’s. I wanted my paper. Fuckin asshole forgot to pay my paper boy.” Jake kissed Cal on the cheek. “Now there’s another letter of apology I have to write. I’m ready to kill him. My credit is ruined.”

  “Your credit is not ruined, Jake,” Cal snickered. “Besides, you just got a hundred grand for completing the experiment. You don’t need credit.”

  “That is not true. You always need credit. How do you expect . . .” Jake lifted the paper. “To buy a home.”

  “With cash.” Cal saw that he held up the real estate section. “And this can wait.” She took it from him and tossed it on the coffee table. “I made coffee.”

  Jake’s eyes went to the diagonally-lying paper then to Cal. He saw her bring the Ho-Ho to her mouth. “Cal.” He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “Sweetie. You shouldn’t eat this junk first thing in the morning.” Jake lifted the Ho-Ho from her hand.

  “Hey.” Cal reached for it but Jake held it high. “Ass. Give it to me.”

  “Later.” He brought the paper wrapping back up around it and placed it on the coffee table.

  “God, Jake.” Cal grabbed the cake again.

  “Cal.” He reached for it.

  “Jake.” Cal smacked his hand away. “Knock it off. I’m hungry.” She backed up. “Don’t,” She warned.

  “All right. I’ll let it slide.”

  “Gee, thanks. Now you ruined the fun of eating it.” Cal tossed the Ho-Ho on the table, walked over, dropped down on the couch, and placed her feet on the coffee table. She began to drink her coffee.

  After making the newspaper straight and re-wrapping the Ho-Ho, Jake joined her on the couch. “So.”

  “So.”

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Not well.”

  “Why?” Jake asked. “Were you sick? You got up in the middle of the night.”

  “No. I had a bad dream.”

  “What about”

  “About the . . .” Cal hesitated. “About the . . .”

  “About?”

  “About the anal way you do things around here.”

  “Cal. Please.” Jake grabbed her hand. “What is with that word today? Besides, being organized is not being anal. So . . . you’re versed in this living together thing, is this normal, this short sentence conversation we’re having?”

  “Yes.” Cal reached for the paper, grabbing a section. “Especially on Sunday’s. It’s very normal behavior that you just don’t talk to your significant other until at least nine a.m.”

  “Nine a.m.” Jake looked at his watch.

  “Jake, I’m kidding.”

  “Don’t do that, Cal. You know I want to get this right.”

  “Go get a cup of coffee and we’ll continue this short sentence conversation when you return.”

  “I can do that.” He kissed on her on the cheek then stood up. “Cal, I’m really glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” Cal smiled, watching him walk away, then she reached for her Ho-Ho again.

  “Cal?” Jake called from the kitchen. “Is there a reason that you moved this toaster a half an inch to the right?”

  Cal’s hand dropped the cake, and with rolling eyes, she plopped backwards into the back of the couch.

  I-S.E. Twelve - Seal River Complex, Manitoba, Canada

  March 6th - 10:00 a.m. CST

  Stan Oslowski, a younger, thin, balding man had worked with Caldwell on three experiments as what they called an ‘observer’, and it was the first time in his twelve years with Caldwell that he had ever made it to the field. Brought there because he had become so familiar with the complex from watching it on monitors, Dr. Jefferson thought he may be able to shed some light on where to dig. Stan was filled with excitement for being there, and thought it an extra added bonus when he was present for the discovery of the unexpected mutilated body. He stood with Dr. Jefferson and Greg Haynes as the workers carried the black body bag to the chopper. “Hey,” Stan said, upbeat. “At least we know now a wolf still remains.”

  Dr. Jefferson looked sideways at Stan. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” Stan stood with the two doctors. He nodded his head in the awkward silence. “Well, I’d better be getting back.” Stan pointed behind him.

  Greg just smiled at him as Stan backed up and left.

  Dr. Jefferson’s eyes stayed focused on the chopper they loaded the body into. “Leonard Helms was his name. Central News Network confirmed he was working with an investigative reporter on a story about the experiment.”

  “I take it the reporter was here.”

  “Yes. That’s how we knew to look for Leonard. This may interest you to know.” Dr. Jefferson turned his head and looked at Greg. “The reporter’s name is Billy Griffith.”

  There was a slight twitch of Greg’s head as he looked confusedly at Dr. Jefferson. “I’m lost. Why would that interest . . .” The expression changed on Greg’s face when it dawned on him why Dr. Jefferson decided to share the name information with him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Fort Bragg, North Carolina

  March 6th - 6:30 p.m.

  “A game., Jake merely stated, as he set his bottle of beer down on the round table where he, Cal, and Chuck sat on his patio.

  “Explain game,” Chuck requested.

  “Simple.” Jake played with the label on his beer. “Eight participants, eight investors. All eight go in, only one comes out. The investor who has that participant . . . wins.” He looked at Cal and winked. “Unless, of course, you form one hell of a team, then you really throw them for a loop.”

  Cal smiled at Jake. “They didn’t expect it.”

  “Wait.” Chuck held up his hand. “Back to the game thing. So basically, all these investors are doing is placing their bets? I thought this was a legit experiment.”

  “It is,” Jake explained. “Only to make it interesting, they have this side bar betting. Half the two million goes to Caldwell, the other half is the betting pool. And Caldwell throws as much as they can at you. They pit you against each other. Push the mental thing along to break you. Rely on nature’s elements to play a role and then they have the catch, which history shows usually wipes everyone out.”

  “The monster?” Chuck said, trying to get the story right.

  Cal bobbed her head back and forth. “Not really. It’s called a Stasis, a metamorphosis that is nearly indestructible. Jake kicked its ass, though.”

  “So what happens in a case like with you two?” Chuck
asked. “Did your investors split the pot?”

  “Nope,” Jake answered. “They would have, but my investor pulled from the game right before it ended. Then he died . . .” Jake raised an eyebrow at Cal, “three hours later in a drive by shooting.”

  “What was that for?” Cal asked.

  “What?”

  “The eyebrow thing.”

  “Nothing.” Jake grabbed his beer bottle and took a drink.

  “And speaking of investors.” Cal looked at Chuck. “My investors owns a resort in Vegas and . . .” She smiled at Jake. “He said as a wedding present he’d be more than happy to fly us out and give us the best room he has for a honeymoon out there.”

  “Whoa.” Chuck smiled. “Nice guy.”

  “He’s organized crime,” Jake stated. “And that’s not good news.”

  Cal flung her hand Jake’s way. “So what if he is. I like him. He’s a nice guy.”

  “He may very well be a nice guy,” Jake reasoned. “But he’s mob, Cal. You can’t plan on remaining friends with him. You should think about severing all ties.”

  “Why?” Cal asked.

  “Why?” Jake repeated. “My position on base is why. There’s not much I can do now, but once we’re married it will have to stop.”

  Cal had a bit of a chuckle to her voice. “Once we’re married it will have to stop? What are you gonna do, put your foot down?”

  “Yes.” Jake nodded once.

  Cal looked to Chuck who gave her a cringing nervous smile. “Do you think being my husband gives you the authority to do that?”