Last Days (Last Days Trilogy #1) Read online

  The hard ding of the bell ate right through her and when Reggie screamed in reaction when Cook shouted her name, “All right!” from across the diner. After her outburst, Reggie paused then gave an apologetic smile to her customers. “Sorry. That was one club sandwich and a chef’s salad.”

  Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. “Reg!”

  “Oh my God.” She snatched the menus from the customers and spun around. “Really?” She marched to the food window. “Really. How would you like it if I did this?” She smacked her hand on the bell. “Cook! Cook!”

  “Reg!” Another voice called her name, only this time it was Charley.

  Sure she was in trouble. Reggie wanted to just yell, “Okay, enough, I quit,” but it was either waiting tables or working for her father. Cringing she looked at Cook.

  “Feel better?” Cook asked calmly.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now take the damn chicken to table four.”

  Reggie grabbed the plate and walked to table four.

  “Reg,” called Charley again.

  “What? I’m working. I’m not yelling.”

  Charley held up a phone.

  “For me?” Reggie asked.

  “No, I’m just showing it to you.”

  “Such sarcasm,” Reggie said and reached for the phone.

  Charley pulled it away. “I thought Herbie was picking you up a flip phone from Bargain Mart.”

  “He did. I haven’t figured out how to use it.”

  “It’s a flip phone, Reg, people figured those out decades ago.”

  Grumbling, Reggie grabbed the phone. Mid placing it to her ear, she paused and covered the receiver. “Who is it? It’s not a bill collector is it?”

  “Unless the bill is your soul. No. It’s Marcus.”

  She wanted to smile, but grew worried because Marcus never called her at work “Hello?” She answered.

  “Reg. You busy?”

  “Um, no. What’s wrong?”

  Marcus let out a long breath, one that carried over the line. “My friend, I need a small favor.”

  Westing Biogenetic Institute - Chicago, Illinois

  Dr. Genevieve was the only on-site person to clear it. The other director, Dr. Hershey, was at the Spain office, but was soon on the phone with Genevieve.

  “Highly unorthodox,” Dr. Genevieve told Marcus.

  Marcus nodded calmly, hand on hip, and replied, “Just like the entire experiment.”

  Dr. Genevieve said, “I can’t argue with that, but you do realize what you’re asking?”

  “I’m asking for a ‘no stall’ on this experiment that we’ve pushed no matter what the odds. I’ve never said it,” Marcus raised an eyebrow, “but this is my baby. I negotiated the deal with the Vatican. I did. The new cloning techniques. Mine. The DNA restructuring of the egg. Mine. The new design of the in-vitro and artificial womb, all....”

  “Where are you going with this?” Dr. Hershey asked over the speaker-phone.

  “I’m pulling rank,” he declared, “which I haven’t done till now. With all I’ve done, all the funding I’ve pulled in, you have to give me this one.”

  Dr. Genevieve sighed. “But the procedure taken before...”

  Marcus cut him off. “Before, we didn’t know who we were dealing with. We do now. I know. I believe it a remarkable coincidence that this choice is happening at this point in the generation batch. Tell me, Doctors. Tell me to move ahead. Do not stall. Let’s do what we set out to do in the timetable we intended.” Marcus took a step forward. “Please.”

  A Roy Orbison song soothed the lab where Rose and four lab workers waited when Marcus returned. The outer door buzzed and the lab doors banged open as Marcus moved through like a rocket, his lab jacket flapping. “Rose.” He pointed. “Get everything in order. Joseph, gather the nuclei. Tom, get the in-vitro tubes ready. Get me batch four.” Marcus moved across into the next lab and toward his office. “I’ll be right back!”

  Rose followed. “Dr. Leon, what are you doing?”

  Inside, Marcus grabbed an eraser from his desk and stepped to the chalkboard. In one sweep the slash marks vanished. He turned with a smile. “Erasing my errors.” He dropped the eraser and strode from the office. “No more failures. It’s time to succeed.”

  Seville, Ohio

  Reggie tromped her way through the piling snow to her father’s shop, her wet toes reminding her continuously that she needed new boots. Unable to park in his lot, she’d left her pick-up a half a block down the street. She smiled through the weather, though thinking of how easily she’d be able to afford new boots now.

  After greeting Grace, the perennial secretary, in the front office, she headed for the garage and was assaulted with the usual noises of men working, and then by the sight of Herbie’s plumber pants crack. She held her breath and inched her way over to her father who was spray painting the side of a car.

  She tapped him on the shoulder. “Dad.”

  “Hey, Reg.” He kept working.

  “I have to talk to you! It’s important!” she shouted. “Can you shut that off?”

  “Are you dying?” Kyle yelled.

  “No!”

  “Seth okay?!”

  “Yes!”

  “Then just talk loud, because I promised Huey I’d have this done today!”

  Reggie folded her arms and hunched down to her father. “I’m going to Chicago to see Marcus for a few days! I leave tomorrow morning! Can you watch Seth until Tuesday?”

  “I’ll watch him!” Kyle kept working. Reggie didn’t move. “What about work?”

  “I don’t need to work anymore!”

  “Oh? Did you hit the lottery?”

  “Sort of,” Reggie mumbled. “I’m helping Marcus!”

  “How!”

  “I’m having the clone baby,” Reggie whispered.

  “What was that?”

  After glancing sidelong at Herbie, Reggie screamed. “I’m having the baby for Marcus!”

  Silence. Kyle stopped painting. Herbie stopped sanding.

  With a toss of his tool, Herbie was up and stomping across the garage. “I knew it.” He grabbed his coat and headed to the door. “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.” The door slammed as he left.

  “Damn it, Reg!” Kyle shouted. “If Marcus is going to knock you up, you might wait to tell me until after the Anderson car’s done! Thank you very much!”

  “Daddy, I’m not getting knocked up by Marcus.”

  “Oh.” Kyle shifted his eyes. “I’ll find Herbie and tell him.”

  “I’m getting knocked up for Marcus.”

  “Make up your mind, Reggie, either you’re having Marcus’ baby or not. What? Doesn’t he want to make a kid the old fashioned way?”

  “You might say that. I’m going to be the surrogate mother for the clone.”

  The compressor turned back on and Kyle glared at his daughter. “Over my dead body.”

  “Dad!” Reggie shouted as Kyle squatted back down. “I told him yes. And... I’m old enough to make up my own mind!”

  “Apparently you’re not!” Kyle yelled.

  “They’re sending a plane for me tomorrow! I’ll be on it.”

  “Like hell you will!”

  “Dad!” Reggie tried to reason. “Marcus needs me! He’s my best friend!”

  “I don’t care! He can find someone else!”

  ‘Last ditch effort’, Reggie thought. “The institute is paying me two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

  The compressor went off and Kyle stood up. “When do you leave?”

  Westing Biogenetic Institute - Chicago, Illinois

  “It’s a father thing,” Rose told Marcus.

  Marcus nodded, looked at his watch, raced to the phone and picked it up. “Yes, I understand.”

  “And make sure Reggie...”

  Marcus didn’t listen to the rest of what Kyle said, he set down the phone and moved back to his counter. “Tom, make sure the in-vitro tubes are ready. We’re just about the
re.”

  “Yes, all ready,” Tom said.

  “Good.” Marcus walked back to the phone. He picked it up. “Yes, I understand.”

  “She cannot be...”

  Marcus set down the phone and walked across the lab. He bent down to a cooler and unlocked it with a key dangling from his wrist. He opened it and removed a small case. “Batch four. Excuse me.” He walked back to the phone. “I understand.”

  “There’s just a lot I need to cover with you,” Kyle said.

  “Can you write it down?” Marcus suggested. “Give it to Reg. When she gets here, I’ll give it my thorough review. Right now I have to go. I promise to do whatever you need.” Marcus nodded. “Thanks, Mr. Stevens.” With a slight smile, Marcus hung up the phone and moved back to batch four. “We’re ready.” Marcus carried his prized possession to the main lab, as Rose and Tom followed.

  Seville, Ohio

  Reggie felt guilty about ignoring the curiosity on her son’s face as he watched her pack. Seth was smart for his age, and surely saw through Reggie’s rambling explanations. But he didn’t know why she was leaving when they always watched wrestling on Monday nights, especially when his grandfather’s girlfriend Marybeth, a.k.a. Church Lady, was around.

  “Why are you taking so many clothes?” Seth asked.

  “It’s a girl thing. All women pack too much. A woman has to have a selection, you know.” Reggie smiled until a sudden flashback floored her.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered, closed her eyes and saw herself at four watching her mother pack a bag. Reggie had asked her mother the same question. Her mother never came back. Reggie panicked. Poor Seth, she thought. How could she convince him she was returning? Thinking she saw fright in his young, blue eyes, she sat on the bed. “Seth? Are you worried?”

  “Yes.” Seth nodded.

  Reggie knew she had to be blunt. “Honey, I don’t want you to worry. I don’t want you to think I’m not coming back. I’m not packing this bag to leave you forever. I’m just going to go away for a few days. That’s all. I’ll be back.”

  “I know. Why would you want to leave for good?”

  “Seth? Isn’t that what you’re worried about?”

  “No.” Seth shook his head. “I’m worried about my game controller. Pap spilled soda on it and now the button’s stuck.”

  “Seth.” Reggie softened her voice. “I’m talking really worried stuff. Stuff that worries you about me being gone. Anything about me leaving worry you?”

  “No.” Seth shook his head.

  “What about what I told you about me and Marcus?”

  “It’ll be weird… him being your boyfriend.”

  “Not boyfriend. Not yet.” Reggie held up her hand. “We’ll see what happens. See if we can, you know, make it work.”

  “Is it because you’re both getting old and lonely and in need of physical companionship that no one else will give you?”

  “What? Where in the world did you hear...”

  “Pap. That’s what he said about you and Marcus. He told me that’s the reason you’re going to spend time with him. He said Herbie dumped you. Did he?”

  “Seth, Herbie and I were never really a couple.”

  “Well, it wasn’t very nice to tell the guy you were gonna marry him if you didn’t mean it. Pap told me.”

  “Let me tell you a little secret about Pap. He lies.” Reggie stood up from the bed. “He used to beat it into my head that if I kissed a boy before I was eighteen, a neurological chain reaction would occur and I would lose all ability to control my motor functions and I’d pee myself.” She shook her head. “I believed him until I was fifteen.”

  “Did someone tell you he was lying?”

  “No. I found out on my own. I kissed a boy and nothing happened.”

  Seth laughed. “I’m eleven and I don’t even believe that.”

  “Pap has a way of brainwashing people.”

  “I heard that.” Kyle walked into the bedroom. “You should know I believed everything I told you, Reg.”

  “Right.” Reggie smiled and closed her suitcase.

  “Hey.” Kyle rubbed Seth’s head. “Hurry up. Big and Hot is on TV for an interview.”

  “No way.” Seth darted out of the room.

  “Big and Hot?” Reggie, excited, started to follow Seth.

  Kyle stopped her. “Not you. I need to talk to you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. “You give this to Marcus as soon as you see him.”

  Reggie took it. “What is this?”

  “Instructions. He’ll know what to do with them. Reg... Just tell me. Are you positive no one is going to know you’re carrying this clone?”

  “Positive,” Reggie said. “The institute is saying the mother is in England. I’ll use the cover story that Marcus and I got caught up in a moment of passion.”

  Kyle snickered.

  “What?”

  “Passion?” Kyle laughed. “You and Marcus? No one’ll buy that.”

  Reggie’s mouth dropped. “Well, they’ll have to. So there.”

  “So there.” Kyle nodded as Seth reappeared. “What’s wrong, Seth?”

  “It’s a bee show. Big and Hot isn’t on. Did you lie?”

  “Yeah, I did. I needed to talk to your mom.” Kyle told him.

  “How come you just didn’t ask me to leave?”

  “It’s more fun telling tales.” Kyle moved to the door. “Let’s go get some dinner and let your mom finish up.”

  “O.K,” Seth agreed.

  “And don’t forget to pack that fancy flip phone Herbie got you. If you’re gonna break his heart, at least use his gift.”

  Reggie shook her head and watched her father and son walk from the bedroom. She stepped over to her window and watched the blizzard outside storm just as bad as yesterday. She knew most commercial flights from Cleveland were either canceled or delayed. She wasn’t sure about private jets.

  “Mom.” Seth brought her the phone. “It’s my new step-dad.”

  “Thanks.” Reggie took the phone and brought it to her ear. “Hey, Herbie.”

  “Herbie,” Marcus snapped. “This isn’t Herbie.”

  Reggie rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was zoning out. What’s up? Something wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Marcus paused. “We... we got life.”

  Reggie clenched the phone. “It worked?”

  “Absolutely. Just as I said – batch four.”

  “Oh, Marcus, I’m so proud of you. It really worked.”

  “Cells began dividing nicely,” he explained. “Now we have to get you here. We have that new procedure to prep your uterus.”

  “Prep my uterus? Is that a scientist’s idea of romantic lingo?”

  “Ha, ha, ha. No. It’s so you don’t have to get those injections and cuts the time. I’ll tell you what, infertility clinics are gonna love me when FDA approves.”

  “It’s not approved. Is it dangerous?”

  “Um … no. But we need to get you here soon.”

  “Yeah, if the weather will cooperate...” Reggie looked back out the window. “Oh, my God! It stopped snowing. I mean just now. Oh, shit, Marcus, the sun’s coming out. And fast too. It wasn’t supposed to stop.”

  “See, Reg,” Marcus said. “No doubts. We got life from batch four. You said ‘yes’… and your father is dealing with it, and now Mother Nature is coming along for the ride.”

  Reggie smiled as the bright sun reflected off the white snow. “I’d say I might have to agree.”

  Westing Biogenetic Institute - Chicago, Illinois

  After Reggie hung up, Marcus kept his hands on the phone. Things were going as planned. He couldn’t wait. He even anticipated, with some amusement, Kyle’s instruction list. Stepping back from his phone, Marcus grabbed his pocket recorder and his chicken scratch yellow notepad. Although those notes were his primary operating data, he still had to translate them for Rose to type up and document. He used the recorder to translate this garbled mess into
sense.

  Marcus pressed ‘record.’ “November twenty-second at 11:22 a.m. Central Standard Time.” Marcus paced and talked. “The cloning process was complete with the generation of the batch four ovum. Eight ovum were successfully asexually fertilized. However, only one remains. Outlook is positive that the single cell fertilization will continue to grow. And using... using... oh wow.” He lowered his notepad as he caught a glimpse of the sun outside the window. “It stopped snowing here, too.” He went to the window, and watched the water drip from the melting snow.

  “Dr. Leon.” Rose entered, sounding frantic.

  “Rose, did you see?” He pointed out the window. “It stopped snowing.”

  “No, I didn’t. Dr. Leon, we have... you have to come to the main lab. It’s the embryo.”

  “Shit.” Marcus flew out of the lab. “Did it abort?”

  “No.” Rose ran after him to the main lab.

  “What’s going on?” Marcus asked as he approached Tom. “Is it all right?”

  Tom was mute. He gulped and pushed the in-vitro dish closer to Marcus.

  Marcus brought the dish over and studied it. “Oh my God.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Los Angeles, CA

  While Marcus’ dreams could hardly be termed normal, the more he immersed himself in the throes of the experiment, the weirder they became. Usually, in a lucid dream-state, Marcus would spend his time figuring it out, as if he were in a good mystery. Why was he there? What did it mean? What caused it?

  However, no dream in recent memory was as clear to Marcus as his latest.

  The feel of the outdoors engulfed him, the smells, atmosphere, sounds. Marcus got his bearings and spied a dilapidated stable, a dim flickering flame within. It all seemed real, down to the odors of the stable animals.

  Suddenly he was in the stable, Reggie standing across from him, both of them garbed in New Testament clothing. He scanned the interior and noticed the trappings and symbolism of Christianity well-represented, all fitting his life and work at present.