Outside the small white room that he had occupied for an undisclosed amount of time, Dr. Grant found himself in the hull of a large ship. The halls were well lit, very much like a hospital or institution, and not at all musty like you would expect from the inside of a barge.
At first, he was unaware of the size of the ship, as the first corridor he travelled was bereft of any windows. It wasn't until they manoeuvred through a maze of hallways that led to the fresh outside air that he got his first glimpse of the layout.
They walked along a railed path that overlooked a garden, surrounded by a track populated by joggers dressed in the same white uniform as Jane. To the left of the garden lay tennis and basketball courts, a venerable recreational centre. Behind this, towards the stern of the ship, looked to be a sort of laboratory.
As Jane and the doctor walked towards the bow, they came upon a glass elevator, where Jane stopped.
"This is you, doctor." The contempt in her voice replaced by a cold sincerity, "Mr. Smith will see you now. Don't bother lying, it will only waste your time and ours."
Without a word to his unpleasant host, the doctor pushed the only button beside the door, waited only a moment, and stepped in.
He found himself in a bright room, with a sweet scent of ginger and jasmine. Above him was a glass ceiling, currently open to let in the ocean air. There were no computers or electronics of any kind, not so much as a clock.
On the floor, sitting in a semi-circle, were three men all around his age in appearance, sitting cross legged, amidst conversation.
He gingerly strolled towards the group and stood in the opening of the semi-circle.
They continued their discussion for a moment before reverting to silence.
He stood in awkward stillness for a moment.
The elderly gentleman who seemed to be leading the talk picked up a an unusual shaped cup with a slight steam coming from it, delicately took a sip, and with out looking up, began "Please Dr. Grant. Sit down. We're all very anxious to meet you. Would you care for some tea?"
"Indeed. The last drink I remember having tasted overwhelmingly of salt water." Even in such a circumstance, he was unable to resist a quip.
"Hmmm." considered the elder. "Charles mentioned you were an affable gentleman. But please, doctor, try to keep the wise cracks to a minimum. We have important business to discuss."
He paused to indulge his tea once more, as the man to his left handed Dr. Grant one of the oddly shaped cups, made to not warm the hand, but to sit quite comfortably and securely in the palm, and proceeded to fill it with the warm, smooth decoction. Here was the source of the ginger and jasmine aroma.
"To my right is our head of aquatic activity and marine life, Mr. Jones, and to my left, our head of religion and theology, Mr. Ryan. To the crew I'm known only as Mr. Smith, but please, forego the designation. Smith is fine, and I'm sure these gentlemen won't mind if you take the same liberty with their appellations.
"Welcome doctor." piped Jones, followed by a nod and a raise of the glass from Ryan.
Smith continued, "To get right down to it, we're concerned with protecting the life of the child. As you must already have concluded, there's more than a few threats towards his survival. Some that you may have some trouble believing, but I assure you. Here, we do NOT jest."
Ryan picked up the conversation, "Our organization is dedicated to the survival not just of the human race, but of the planet as well. We've devoted our lives to knowledge, science and philosophy. As a result, the signs of the apocalypse are finally becoming palpable."
"The apocalypse? One kid with gills and you expect me to swallow the end of the world speech?"
"Please doctor," beckoned Smith, "don't let the term deter you. Apocalypse means nothing more than revelation. A new understanding is dawning upon the world. Begin with that. It will ease the acceptance of what we've been working towards for centuries."
"Centuries..."he considered.
"Yes," continued Ryan, "We've been learning to understand our bodies and souls for quite some time. Ever heard of the biblical character Methusala?"
Dr. Grant looked up from his reverie, "Go on." he prompted.
"Have you never considered it possible that a man could have lived so long?"
"With the power of a god behind him I'm sure a man could achieve many supernatural abilities."
"Not a god, doctor. The God. The great evolver."
"...You're serious?" He replied more as a statement of disbelief than a question.
"Very much so. Only by this revelation were we able to understand how Methusala maintained such prolonged life. The creator gave us the ability to evolve. As a doctor I'm sure you must agree with the theory of evolution, yes?"
"I accept it, yes."
"And how could you not? It's evident in every thing. The brain's ability to learn and grow, the way an idea manifests itself and turns into a plan, then to an action. Age is the natural course of all things, deterioration is the science of all things physical to adapt to the world in which they are in. Just as rock erodes from the sea, the body deteriorates.
However, its the understanding of this progression, and the ability of a creator far superior to any that we could imagine, to change his art, that allows us to adapt our bodies, minds, and souls to our surroundings. And in turn, grow with the environment, as living contributors, not cancers."
The room fell silent for a moment as the three gave Dr. Grant a moment to chew this over.
"So, what you're saying, is that no one has to die?"
"No! No! People have to die. That is the natural order. We could fall into the sea and drown today! It's careful planning and knowledge that allows us to participate in the will of the universe, not immortality my good man."
"Fair enough, for now. You'll have to give me some time to digest that. What I'm curious about is just how the birth of this fish child plays into your apocalypse theory."
Gracefully, and without taking offence at his slight, Ryan continued.
"Shark child, doctor, and we believe its up to him to unite the land and sea. In a few years there's going to be a lot more ocean, and we're going to have to adapt to survive. The real problem lays in the will of its inhabitants."
"The lords of the sea are just as aware of the great change coming upon us as we are." Jones finally interjected. "And before you raise a question, yes, I said the Lords of the Sea. There are major players for the earth in the ocean just as on land. Our biggest concern right now, is the Megalodon."
"The pre-historic shark?"
"The lord of them, yes. There are several living out of the sight of sonar. They too have evolved. We have reason to believe that they became keenly aware of sonar, and have devised a way to deflect it, and render themselves invisible. The birth of a man shark may be very threatening to them. It is prudent that we monitor the course of the young one's life. We don't know the will of the sea towards the child, but we can only speculate that being of both worlds, he'll be unwelcome in both, to say the least."
"Where is the child being taken?" questioned Ryan.
"...The Okanagan."
A look of surprise and terror appeared on the old men's faces.
"Oh no...You're not gonna tell me..."
"Yes. The Ogopogo."
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Awake in a dream
Dr. Grant came to in what seemed like a dream.
Warm, in dry clothes, in a white room, and a suspiciously euphoric contentment.
Morphine... He recognized that cruel bitch mistress.
But she was good sometimes... Like when he lay still. But as soon as he tried to move he could feel the gun shots in his back, and the events of the day came crashing down like an avalanche.
He made it though.. somehow Charles saved him, and brought him here.
But where was here?
He could smell the ocean, and after a little motion judgement, he figured he was on a boat, and that the swaying he felt wasn't just in his head.
It took some time, and a lot of pain, but he managed to sit up.
He'd never been shot before. Didn't particularly want to get shot again...
"Alright now, feet first," he told himself. "Try to stand."
Left foot, steady.. steady...
Right foot, a little shaky..
Keeping his hands on the bed, he managed to turn around, and steady himself.
"Yup," he spoke to himself, "I'm definitely feeling those 60 years today."
A knock on the door.
"Mr. Grant?"
Not Dr. Grant? What the hell? He suddenly felt understanding of Rodney Dangerfield's classic line, 'No respect I tell ya, no respect.'
"Yes?"
A slender eagle faced woman walked in. Dressed all in white, with tennis shorts and loafers, she looked like she had just walked in from a yacht party.
"How's the back?"
"How do you think? It feels like I got shot and fell into the ocean! Can't complain about the dope, though."
"Hmmm." She chewed that over as she sized him up. "You do have quite the unconventional attitude. I'm not sure yet if you're ignorant or determined.."
"A little from column A, a little from column B." He jested
"Alright, Mr. Grant,"
"Doctor, ma'am. Dr. Grant. And you would be..?"
"Forgive my manners, DR. Grant," she emphasized the designation, with more than a hint of disdain.
"My name is Jane Campbell. Head of rehabilitation and physical therapy on this vessel, and I see you're mobile, yes?"
"I'm getting there."
"Take as much time as you need. You're safe here. However, when you're able, there is much to be discussed."
Before she continued, she observed his movements, judging how long it would be before he could walk easily.
"Your back will heal. We removed the bullets, and cleaned the wound. No major damage. I don't think I need to tell you how fortunate you are."
"Hmmm. Quite." What a peculiar situation..and what an uncomfortable woman.
"I don't wish to rest any longer. I'd like to see Charles."
"I'm afraid Charles has already left. You've been asleep for some time, Doctor." This time she managed the formality with less contempt.
"Well then, take me to the captain!"
Starting to feel a bit like Alice, he began to wonder just how deep this whole thing went, and just how long it was going to be before he could crawl out of this 'rabbit hole'.
That is...
If he ever did get out.
Warm, in dry clothes, in a white room, and a suspiciously euphoric contentment.
Morphine... He recognized that cruel bitch mistress.
But she was good sometimes... Like when he lay still. But as soon as he tried to move he could feel the gun shots in his back, and the events of the day came crashing down like an avalanche.
He made it though.. somehow Charles saved him, and brought him here.
But where was here?
He could smell the ocean, and after a little motion judgement, he figured he was on a boat, and that the swaying he felt wasn't just in his head.
It took some time, and a lot of pain, but he managed to sit up.
He'd never been shot before. Didn't particularly want to get shot again...
"Alright now, feet first," he told himself. "Try to stand."
Left foot, steady.. steady...
Right foot, a little shaky..
Keeping his hands on the bed, he managed to turn around, and steady himself.
"Yup," he spoke to himself, "I'm definitely feeling those 60 years today."
A knock on the door.
"Mr. Grant?"
Not Dr. Grant? What the hell? He suddenly felt understanding of Rodney Dangerfield's classic line, 'No respect I tell ya, no respect.'
"Yes?"
A slender eagle faced woman walked in. Dressed all in white, with tennis shorts and loafers, she looked like she had just walked in from a yacht party.
"How's the back?"
"How do you think? It feels like I got shot and fell into the ocean! Can't complain about the dope, though."
"Hmmm." She chewed that over as she sized him up. "You do have quite the unconventional attitude. I'm not sure yet if you're ignorant or determined.."
"A little from column A, a little from column B." He jested
"Alright, Mr. Grant,"
"Doctor, ma'am. Dr. Grant. And you would be..?"
"Forgive my manners, DR. Grant," she emphasized the designation, with more than a hint of disdain.
"My name is Jane Campbell. Head of rehabilitation and physical therapy on this vessel, and I see you're mobile, yes?"
"I'm getting there."
"Take as much time as you need. You're safe here. However, when you're able, there is much to be discussed."
Before she continued, she observed his movements, judging how long it would be before he could walk easily.
"Your back will heal. We removed the bullets, and cleaned the wound. No major damage. I don't think I need to tell you how fortunate you are."
"Hmmm. Quite." What a peculiar situation..and what an uncomfortable woman.
"I don't wish to rest any longer. I'd like to see Charles."
"I'm afraid Charles has already left. You've been asleep for some time, Doctor." This time she managed the formality with less contempt.
"Well then, take me to the captain!"
Starting to feel a bit like Alice, he began to wonder just how deep this whole thing went, and just how long it was going to be before he could crawl out of this 'rabbit hole'.
That is...
If he ever did get out.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
End of the Beamer
Six more squad cars peeled into the parking lot. Sirens blaring, they motioned to form a circle around the BMW and the three cruisers already in place.
Would've been a good time to have a gun, or some nitrous oxide, for that matter.
Just as he checked his rear view to see if the cops had gotten back into their cruisers, Dr. Grant's mirror exploded into a mess of metal and glass.
Beside himself with excitement, he leaned his head out the window, and at the top of his lungs yelled "I just bought this thing! You're gonna pay for that, coppers!"
He couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing. The others had escaped.
Really.
They were gone.
So for the sheer, ludicrous joy of it, he fishtailed in a half circle, and sped through the only opening he could find between squad cars.
Time for a mad dash to the grave, he chuckled to himself.
He'd had a good life, and it was time to give his for the life of another... Even if that other was a mutant cross between a shark and a boy... Especially if that other was a mutant cross breed of a shark boy!
In salute to the child he was protecting he did another fishtail out of the parking lot.
His phone rang.
He always kept it in the car, so it wouldn't distract him at work. He checked the caller i.d.
His wife.
"Honey? What's going on down there?"
"Oh, just a little mix up with some folks down in the maternity ward." he replied calmly.
"A little mix up?! It's all over the news! They say there was a gunfight on the second floor! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine dear. Nothing to worry about."
"What's that sound? I can hear sirens... You're in your car, aren't you?!"
"Well... yeah. You got me."
"Thaddeus J. Grant," she demanded, "just what in the hell is going on?"
"Well, to tell it straight, I'm kind of in the middle of a high speed chase right now."
His wife paused to soak this in.
"You're serious?"
"Sorry dear, but I don't think I'm going to make dinner tonight."
"Well, that's fine. I didn't want to have to cook anyway."
They shared a tense laugh.
What a woman, he thought. His fearless excitement started to fade, as he realized that more than anything, he just wanted to get see that woman one more time.
"I love you baby." she prompted him.
"And I you, sweetheart."
"Is this about the child?"
"Who else?"
"Well, I'm sure you need all your hands to evade escape," at that, his back window exploded from gunshot.
"Get to my brother's old house."
"Charles? What makes you think he'd even be there? That's crazy!"
"Exactly!"
"Okay... If I can."
"Be careful."
"Me? Never!" he laughed, his fearlessness returning. "Love you, doll."
"And you too hon. Don't get dead on me. You owe me a dinner date!"
"Bye babe."
Alright. Enough sap. Time to turn this situation around.
9 squad cars on his tail, one police chopper in the sky, no guns, and it's broad daylight.
If only he'd watched more action movies, then maybe he'd have an idea of how to evade a mob of cops.
Charles would know what to do.
Chances are, he already does. For a stark crazy conspiracy theorist, the guy was sharp as a diamond.
And just as hard to find.
The phone rang again.
Unknown number.
What the hell, he thought. But this time I'm using speaker phone.
"Dr. Grant's office, how may I help you?" dripping sarcasm.
"Got yourself in a real pickle, eh Thaddeus?"
"Charles?"
"Take the next left, and get ready to burn. We're gonna ditch that car of yours."
"Come again?"
"What? How long did you think that beamer was gonna last you anyway? You know how pissed Angie was when you bought it."
"Alright. But can I blow up some cop cars while I'm at it?"
"That depends how you're acrobatic skills are."
"Yeah... not so good. You don't get a lot of practice in the hospital. They just don't have the space."
"Always the clown. All right, now listen up."
The police chopper started to blair "Dr. Grant, pull over and turn off your engine. We have you surrounded, there's no way out."
"Sorry Charles, what was that?"
The Lonsdale Quay, man. That cars going in, and so are you."
"The hell it is! This cars going up in flames! If I can't have it, no one can. Not even the fish!"
"Suit yourself, just make sure they see you die."
"And then what?"
"Not over the phone, Thad. You just leave that to me."
Cops everywhere. Getting to the Quay was going to be no easy task.
It didn't help that there were cyclists everywhere either. But no time for sympathy. Only calm, calculated movements were gonna save him now.
Coming around the main drag towards the Quay, Dr. Grant could see a road block. He had no doubt that they were everywhere on the north shore. Perfect. This is the fun part.
Time to be an action hero... At age 60. What the hell, Stallone was still doing it, right?
He kicked his car into high gear, 140 k downhill, straight into a police barricade, he could already hear the gun shots.
Crick, crick, crack, Pshhhhh! There goes the windshield. All he could do is duck, hold the wheel, and punch the gas.
Oh yeah, and do up his seatbelt. Wheeeee!
SMASH!!!!!
Right through the cars, and a fire started under the hood. But instead of flying into the lake, the car flipped over the squad cars and skidded to a halt. He could hear the cops running over, but not gettin' too close.
What does a doctor know about explosions? Enough to know that fire and gas make pretty colours.
With the passenger side door open, facing the pier, he unbuckled and crawled to the right side.. or left, as the car was upside down.
But the fire under the hood was dying, and that beautiful BMW wasn't even leaking gas.
Gotta think fast. Gotta look dead, but not get dead.
Fuck it. He made a mad dash for the water, but not without getting shot in the back, the force of the bullets knocking him into the water.
The pain! He could barely even swim. But he dived, for all that he had left in him, he dived.
What I wouldn't give for a pair of gills myself right now!
Oh well, he got the next best thing. An oxygen mask slapped over his mouth.
Charles.
Would've been a good time to have a gun, or some nitrous oxide, for that matter.
Just as he checked his rear view to see if the cops had gotten back into their cruisers, Dr. Grant's mirror exploded into a mess of metal and glass.
Beside himself with excitement, he leaned his head out the window, and at the top of his lungs yelled "I just bought this thing! You're gonna pay for that, coppers!"
He couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing. The others had escaped.
Really.
They were gone.
So for the sheer, ludicrous joy of it, he fishtailed in a half circle, and sped through the only opening he could find between squad cars.
Time for a mad dash to the grave, he chuckled to himself.
He'd had a good life, and it was time to give his for the life of another... Even if that other was a mutant cross between a shark and a boy... Especially if that other was a mutant cross breed of a shark boy!
In salute to the child he was protecting he did another fishtail out of the parking lot.
His phone rang.
He always kept it in the car, so it wouldn't distract him at work. He checked the caller i.d.
His wife.
"Honey? What's going on down there?"
"Oh, just a little mix up with some folks down in the maternity ward." he replied calmly.
"A little mix up?! It's all over the news! They say there was a gunfight on the second floor! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine dear. Nothing to worry about."
"What's that sound? I can hear sirens... You're in your car, aren't you?!"
"Well... yeah. You got me."
"Thaddeus J. Grant," she demanded, "just what in the hell is going on?"
"Well, to tell it straight, I'm kind of in the middle of a high speed chase right now."
His wife paused to soak this in.
"You're serious?"
"Sorry dear, but I don't think I'm going to make dinner tonight."
"Well, that's fine. I didn't want to have to cook anyway."
They shared a tense laugh.
What a woman, he thought. His fearless excitement started to fade, as he realized that more than anything, he just wanted to get see that woman one more time.
"I love you baby." she prompted him.
"And I you, sweetheart."
"Is this about the child?"
"Who else?"
"Well, I'm sure you need all your hands to evade escape," at that, his back window exploded from gunshot.
"Get to my brother's old house."
"Charles? What makes you think he'd even be there? That's crazy!"
"Exactly!"
"Okay... If I can."
"Be careful."
"Me? Never!" he laughed, his fearlessness returning. "Love you, doll."
"And you too hon. Don't get dead on me. You owe me a dinner date!"
"Bye babe."
Alright. Enough sap. Time to turn this situation around.
9 squad cars on his tail, one police chopper in the sky, no guns, and it's broad daylight.
If only he'd watched more action movies, then maybe he'd have an idea of how to evade a mob of cops.
Charles would know what to do.
Chances are, he already does. For a stark crazy conspiracy theorist, the guy was sharp as a diamond.
And just as hard to find.
The phone rang again.
Unknown number.
What the hell, he thought. But this time I'm using speaker phone.
"Dr. Grant's office, how may I help you?" dripping sarcasm.
"Got yourself in a real pickle, eh Thaddeus?"
"Charles?"
"Take the next left, and get ready to burn. We're gonna ditch that car of yours."
"Come again?"
"What? How long did you think that beamer was gonna last you anyway? You know how pissed Angie was when you bought it."
"Alright. But can I blow up some cop cars while I'm at it?"
"That depends how you're acrobatic skills are."
"Yeah... not so good. You don't get a lot of practice in the hospital. They just don't have the space."
"Always the clown. All right, now listen up."
The police chopper started to blair "Dr. Grant, pull over and turn off your engine. We have you surrounded, there's no way out."
"Sorry Charles, what was that?"
The Lonsdale Quay, man. That cars going in, and so are you."
"The hell it is! This cars going up in flames! If I can't have it, no one can. Not even the fish!"
"Suit yourself, just make sure they see you die."
"And then what?"
"Not over the phone, Thad. You just leave that to me."
Cops everywhere. Getting to the Quay was going to be no easy task.
It didn't help that there were cyclists everywhere either. But no time for sympathy. Only calm, calculated movements were gonna save him now.
Coming around the main drag towards the Quay, Dr. Grant could see a road block. He had no doubt that they were everywhere on the north shore. Perfect. This is the fun part.
Time to be an action hero... At age 60. What the hell, Stallone was still doing it, right?
He kicked his car into high gear, 140 k downhill, straight into a police barricade, he could already hear the gun shots.
Crick, crick, crack, Pshhhhh! There goes the windshield. All he could do is duck, hold the wheel, and punch the gas.
Oh yeah, and do up his seatbelt. Wheeeee!
SMASH!!!!!
Right through the cars, and a fire started under the hood. But instead of flying into the lake, the car flipped over the squad cars and skidded to a halt. He could hear the cops running over, but not gettin' too close.
What does a doctor know about explosions? Enough to know that fire and gas make pretty colours.
With the passenger side door open, facing the pier, he unbuckled and crawled to the right side.. or left, as the car was upside down.
But the fire under the hood was dying, and that beautiful BMW wasn't even leaking gas.
Gotta think fast. Gotta look dead, but not get dead.
Fuck it. He made a mad dash for the water, but not without getting shot in the back, the force of the bullets knocking him into the water.
The pain! He could barely even swim. But he dived, for all that he had left in him, he dived.
What I wouldn't give for a pair of gills myself right now!
Oh well, he got the next best thing. An oxygen mask slapped over his mouth.
Charles.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Inside the van
After about three sets of lights, and hightailing like a fugitive, Osmond slowed to a more natural speed.
No squad cars were on their tail, no choppers in the sky. He'd run from the police enough times as a youth to know that unnecessary law breaking will only get you caught. There's a time for speed, and a time to play it cool.
"Is it just me, or are we looking good?" he started.
"We aren't out of the woods yet. But you're right... No one seems to be following us." Not even the doctor, Miriam smiled inwardly. Their good fortune ultimately convinced her that God's will was being done. Osmond was quite responsive to her, as well. Silently, she thanked her god for delivering the child into her hands, and assured Him that the child would soon be in his.
"Look at this van!" Ariel had been transfixed by the quarrel outside the hospital until this point. She finally took a second to breathe, and look around at her surroundings. Underneath the seat were coolers filled with rations, and a larger cooler filled with water, and a secondary grate under the cover. It was pretty easy to guess what might be going in there...Bastards.
Then again, if they got pulled over, she could stick the baby in there without a care, without a trace...
Clever... but still bastards....
Bastards who wanted to help, though... What she wouldn't give to see some of that truth serum work on Miriam. She wondered if Dr. Grant had taken any with him.
Her stomach turned. The doctor...
Was he going to be alright? He's the only reason why they were escaping at that very moment. He'd led the police away, and taken their time. He caused such a distraction that no police had even bothered to look for the minivan. Maybe they didn't even see the three of them get in the minivan?
Would she ever see him again? Probably not.
The feeling of desperation suddenly enveloped her. Her husband was completely naive to Miriam's hidden agenda, and when would they even have the time to discuss it?
She looked down at her child.
Poor baby.
"I'm sorry child," she spoke softly to it,"but you're going to have to grow up with the weight of the world on your shoulders."
The car was silent, but for the hum of the engine.
"Like Atlas." reflected Osmond, after some time.
"Except I think Atlas may have had the heavens on his shoulders.." he continued after a moment.
Ariel looked at the back of Miriam's head, then back at her baby. So much sacrifice for this child...
For Atlas. Who carried the weight of the heavens on his shoulders.
"I like that name. Atlas."
"You're going to name that th -" Miriam caught her tongue, "um.. You're going to name your child after a greek god who was damned to stand on the earth and support the heavens?
"How do you feel about it, hon?" Ariel spoke to Osmond.
"I like it. Damn straight that kid is gonna have the heavens on his shoulders. But he's no greek god. He's our son, and if I have anything to say about it, he's not just gonna hold the heavens in place.
No, he's gonna shake the shit right out of 'em!"
Arrogant fools...
Heathens!
Inwardly, Miriam fumed.
But she forced a smile. Osmond smiled back, and so did Ariel... Because she could see how much effort it took for Miriam to play nice.
Bitch.
She'll get hers, sooner or later.
And for the first time, little Atlas started to cry.
No squad cars were on their tail, no choppers in the sky. He'd run from the police enough times as a youth to know that unnecessary law breaking will only get you caught. There's a time for speed, and a time to play it cool.
"Is it just me, or are we looking good?" he started.
"We aren't out of the woods yet. But you're right... No one seems to be following us." Not even the doctor, Miriam smiled inwardly. Their good fortune ultimately convinced her that God's will was being done. Osmond was quite responsive to her, as well. Silently, she thanked her god for delivering the child into her hands, and assured Him that the child would soon be in his.
"Look at this van!" Ariel had been transfixed by the quarrel outside the hospital until this point. She finally took a second to breathe, and look around at her surroundings. Underneath the seat were coolers filled with rations, and a larger cooler filled with water, and a secondary grate under the cover. It was pretty easy to guess what might be going in there...Bastards.
Then again, if they got pulled over, she could stick the baby in there without a care, without a trace...
Clever... but still bastards....
Bastards who wanted to help, though... What she wouldn't give to see some of that truth serum work on Miriam. She wondered if Dr. Grant had taken any with him.
Her stomach turned. The doctor...
Was he going to be alright? He's the only reason why they were escaping at that very moment. He'd led the police away, and taken their time. He caused such a distraction that no police had even bothered to look for the minivan. Maybe they didn't even see the three of them get in the minivan?
Would she ever see him again? Probably not.
The feeling of desperation suddenly enveloped her. Her husband was completely naive to Miriam's hidden agenda, and when would they even have the time to discuss it?
She looked down at her child.
Poor baby.
"I'm sorry child," she spoke softly to it,"but you're going to have to grow up with the weight of the world on your shoulders."
The car was silent, but for the hum of the engine.
"Like Atlas." reflected Osmond, after some time.
"Except I think Atlas may have had the heavens on his shoulders.." he continued after a moment.
Ariel looked at the back of Miriam's head, then back at her baby. So much sacrifice for this child...
For Atlas. Who carried the weight of the heavens on his shoulders.
"I like that name. Atlas."
"You're going to name that th -" Miriam caught her tongue, "um.. You're going to name your child after a greek god who was damned to stand on the earth and support the heavens?
"How do you feel about it, hon?" Ariel spoke to Osmond.
"I like it. Damn straight that kid is gonna have the heavens on his shoulders. But he's no greek god. He's our son, and if I have anything to say about it, he's not just gonna hold the heavens in place.
No, he's gonna shake the shit right out of 'em!"
Arrogant fools...
Heathens!
Inwardly, Miriam fumed.
But she forced a smile. Osmond smiled back, and so did Ariel... Because she could see how much effort it took for Miriam to play nice.
Bitch.
She'll get hers, sooner or later.
And for the first time, little Atlas started to cry.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Breakout
"Okay doctor, they're on the beds. Covered, but the bloods still there. We're lucky that no ones come in here yet." As soon as he said it, Osmond and every one else froze. There was some serious business going on. NOT GOOD.
"Let's get the hell out of here." came Miriam. Slowly standing up again. "It's time for action."
"Yeah, doc. Let's take the women and split! We'll keep low, cover the kid up. It should be easy. We'll look legit. I mean, we gotta nurse with us, right?"
"Yes, Osmond. Yes we do. Alright. I'll walk out first and pave the way. If you see me check my watch, it means trouble. Got it?"
In unison: "Got it."
"Good."
Half a hallway down. The seconds dragged for hours. Like every was eye on her, Ariel just made sure that contorted face nestled between her breasts stayed hidden. But her fear dissipated.
Just gotta break out. Then we're good. Oh shit.
Dr. Grant forgot about the parents. Both couples, right in the way of the three behind him.
He checked his watch. Couldn't even comprehend the numbers. All he could read was that it was about thirty seconds to a mega meltdown!
"Dr. Grant?"
Fuck me.
"Down the stairs." Miriam spoke matter-of-factly, confident. They were getting out.
Oblivious, Osmond followed Miriam's directions without hesitation. But someone was coming.
"We got company."
"Where?'
"Big guys. Elevators."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah honey, how do you know?"
"Hmm, well, let's see. One, we've got a fucking shark baby here, and two, no one's given us a lick of hassle. I just killed someone!"
He was almost yelling now, "I fucking killed an old woman! I understand paranoia, but those guys were lookin' for us." he said, drawing out word lookin' to emphasize his point.
"How big? "
"Not so tall, 6 feet.?"
"Suits?
"No. "
"Alright," Miriam turned to Ariel, "You just hold on to that kid. The vehicle we're looking for is a grey hybrid minivan. It's gonna be close to the entrance. It always is."
"Always is?"
"They know about that babe you got there. They all do. You didn't think this was gonna be a walk in the park did you?"
"Who's they?"
"Scientists, girl. They'd cut him right up."
"So what does that make you?"
"I'm on a mission from God."
And thats when the shots started.
"Is everything alright, Doctor? You ran off in such a terror, we've been worried sick!"
"Yes, I'm sorry for the fright. As you may know there were some complications with the pregnancy."
"No, I'm afraid Ariel never mentioned any thing about complications.. Only that it was a healthy baby boy."
"Well, as you know the child was born 3 months premature.. "
"Yes... Yes." Both of the elderly couples were in the room, and they all paused momentarily to consider just what kind of troubles such an early birth could cause.
Dr. Grant was only too grateful for the moment to think.
"So, is everything all right doctor?"started Osmonds mother.
"Yes, yes. Osmond and Ariel will be ready to see you in a short while, but the baby is in intensive care.
He's doing fine, he's healthy. It's just going to be a bit before you can see him."
"So when can I see my son?"
"Within the hour. I'll send a nurse."
"Thank you doctor."
"Yes, yes. You're welcome."
Crisis averted. Only one thing to do now, get outside and find the rest of 'em.
Open elevator...play it cool doc.
Too bad about those two guys that walked in and pressed the door shut button when poeple were clearly coming for the elevator.
Shit.
"Dr. Grant?"
Big guys. He looked up at the floor number. 5.
"In the flesh."
"There's no one in that room, doc."
"Sure there is. What's the matter? Corpses don't count?" 4th floor.
"Where are they?"
'Goddamit. I grabbed these in case Miriam gave me trouble. Oh well. I just hope this works. Big ol' goons.' the doctor thought to himself.
"I said, WHERE ARE THEY?!" The man to his left clenched his arm tight. Some serious strength there.
"Easy lad, easy. I'm on my way to meet them right now." 3rd floor, and the elevator opened. A woman on a cellphone. Yapping it right the hell up, too. 'Time to shine old man', the doc reassured himself.
When the elevator door closed, Dr. Grant pulled a needle from his coat and stuck it straight between the bones in the pelvis to the right of him. A quick push of the syringe, and the bit guy howled.
"What the?!-" that poor woman turned around, and the big guy to his left layed her right out.
Fear induced adrenaline gave Dr. Grant clear focus. Second needle, right into the pelvis. Immediately rewarded by a punch in the face, and down went doctor Grant. Down, but not out.
Then that steroid pumpin', macho ass, bonehead pulled out a goddamned pistol.
2nd floor.
The door opened, and Dr. Grant reached for the pistol, but before he could grab the man's arm, the girl with the cell screamed like a witch and started bashing her phone into the man's head.
Keeling over and passing out, his finger tensed and the gun fired sporadically. Someone got hit, someone outside the elevator. Panic started, Dr. Grant got up and hit the close door button.
"Why the hell did you do that!" screamed the maddened girl.
He didn't even know why. Just needed one more minute to catch his breath. Holy sheep shit. Almost hysterical with adrenaline, all he could croak out was "First..floor".
She just looked at him in bewilderment.
The door opened again. Dr. Grant stood up, and calmly walked out the door.
"This way!" Panic made it easy to follow Miriam. Her cold calculated direction inspired trust.
They got almost to the van, when three squad cars pulled out in front.
"Get in!" Miriam barked.
"Don't gotta tell me twice," Osmond had the keys in the door before he finished speaking. But no dice. First key, second key, no more keys to try.
"Uh...I got a problem."
Miriam looked through the windows. Oops. Wrong van. Not to mention that six serious lookin' cops just stepped out of their car's.
"Just hold it right there Mrs. Mano," came the first threat.
Out of the corner of her eye Miriam could see the right van. She recognized it quickly. Not a damn thing special about it. Or so it seemed.
" To the left. When I say so."
" Just what in the hell are you gonna do?"
SMASH!!!! A brand new BMW crashed right through the squd cars, and headed straight through the six cops.
"Go!!!" Miriam screamed, and all three ran for the van. The cops opened fire on Dr. Grant. He fishtailed in the parking lot, smashing cars all around him, got straight, revved that beautiful engine and drove head first into a squad car. Not the dramatic effect he had hoped for. So he backed right up, and rolled down his window
"You'll never catch me, coppers! Never! Ya, hear me?!"
He could see the van making a break for it, no one on their tail. Time for a good old fashioned police chase. In a BMW.
This was easily the most fun he'd had in ages.
"Let's get the hell out of here." came Miriam. Slowly standing up again. "It's time for action."
"Yeah, doc. Let's take the women and split! We'll keep low, cover the kid up. It should be easy. We'll look legit. I mean, we gotta nurse with us, right?"
"Yes, Osmond. Yes we do. Alright. I'll walk out first and pave the way. If you see me check my watch, it means trouble. Got it?"
In unison: "Got it."
"Good."
Half a hallway down. The seconds dragged for hours. Like every was eye on her, Ariel just made sure that contorted face nestled between her breasts stayed hidden. But her fear dissipated.
Just gotta break out. Then we're good. Oh shit.
Dr. Grant forgot about the parents. Both couples, right in the way of the three behind him.
He checked his watch. Couldn't even comprehend the numbers. All he could read was that it was about thirty seconds to a mega meltdown!
"Dr. Grant?"
Fuck me.
"Down the stairs." Miriam spoke matter-of-factly, confident. They were getting out.
Oblivious, Osmond followed Miriam's directions without hesitation. But someone was coming.
"We got company."
"Where?'
"Big guys. Elevators."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah honey, how do you know?"
"Hmm, well, let's see. One, we've got a fucking shark baby here, and two, no one's given us a lick of hassle. I just killed someone!"
He was almost yelling now, "I fucking killed an old woman! I understand paranoia, but those guys were lookin' for us." he said, drawing out word lookin' to emphasize his point.
"How big? "
"Not so tall, 6 feet.?"
"Suits?
"No. "
"Alright," Miriam turned to Ariel, "You just hold on to that kid. The vehicle we're looking for is a grey hybrid minivan. It's gonna be close to the entrance. It always is."
"Always is?"
"They know about that babe you got there. They all do. You didn't think this was gonna be a walk in the park did you?"
"Who's they?"
"Scientists, girl. They'd cut him right up."
"So what does that make you?"
"I'm on a mission from God."
And thats when the shots started.
"Is everything alright, Doctor? You ran off in such a terror, we've been worried sick!"
"Yes, I'm sorry for the fright. As you may know there were some complications with the pregnancy."
"No, I'm afraid Ariel never mentioned any thing about complications.. Only that it was a healthy baby boy."
"Well, as you know the child was born 3 months premature.. "
"Yes... Yes." Both of the elderly couples were in the room, and they all paused momentarily to consider just what kind of troubles such an early birth could cause.
Dr. Grant was only too grateful for the moment to think.
"So, is everything all right doctor?"started Osmonds mother.
"Yes, yes. Osmond and Ariel will be ready to see you in a short while, but the baby is in intensive care.
He's doing fine, he's healthy. It's just going to be a bit before you can see him."
"So when can I see my son?"
"Within the hour. I'll send a nurse."
"Thank you doctor."
"Yes, yes. You're welcome."
Crisis averted. Only one thing to do now, get outside and find the rest of 'em.
Open elevator...play it cool doc.
Too bad about those two guys that walked in and pressed the door shut button when poeple were clearly coming for the elevator.
Shit.
"Dr. Grant?"
Big guys. He looked up at the floor number. 5.
"In the flesh."
"There's no one in that room, doc."
"Sure there is. What's the matter? Corpses don't count?" 4th floor.
"Where are they?"
'Goddamit. I grabbed these in case Miriam gave me trouble. Oh well. I just hope this works. Big ol' goons.' the doctor thought to himself.
"I said, WHERE ARE THEY?!" The man to his left clenched his arm tight. Some serious strength there.
"Easy lad, easy. I'm on my way to meet them right now." 3rd floor, and the elevator opened. A woman on a cellphone. Yapping it right the hell up, too. 'Time to shine old man', the doc reassured himself.
When the elevator door closed, Dr. Grant pulled a needle from his coat and stuck it straight between the bones in the pelvis to the right of him. A quick push of the syringe, and the bit guy howled.
"What the?!-" that poor woman turned around, and the big guy to his left layed her right out.
Fear induced adrenaline gave Dr. Grant clear focus. Second needle, right into the pelvis. Immediately rewarded by a punch in the face, and down went doctor Grant. Down, but not out.
Then that steroid pumpin', macho ass, bonehead pulled out a goddamned pistol.
2nd floor.
The door opened, and Dr. Grant reached for the pistol, but before he could grab the man's arm, the girl with the cell screamed like a witch and started bashing her phone into the man's head.
Keeling over and passing out, his finger tensed and the gun fired sporadically. Someone got hit, someone outside the elevator. Panic started, Dr. Grant got up and hit the close door button.
"Why the hell did you do that!" screamed the maddened girl.
He didn't even know why. Just needed one more minute to catch his breath. Holy sheep shit. Almost hysterical with adrenaline, all he could croak out was "First..floor".
She just looked at him in bewilderment.
The door opened again. Dr. Grant stood up, and calmly walked out the door.
"This way!" Panic made it easy to follow Miriam. Her cold calculated direction inspired trust.
They got almost to the van, when three squad cars pulled out in front.
"Get in!" Miriam barked.
"Don't gotta tell me twice," Osmond had the keys in the door before he finished speaking. But no dice. First key, second key, no more keys to try.
"Uh...I got a problem."
Miriam looked through the windows. Oops. Wrong van. Not to mention that six serious lookin' cops just stepped out of their car's.
"Just hold it right there Mrs. Mano," came the first threat.
Out of the corner of her eye Miriam could see the right van. She recognized it quickly. Not a damn thing special about it. Or so it seemed.
" To the left. When I say so."
" Just what in the hell are you gonna do?"
SMASH!!!! A brand new BMW crashed right through the squd cars, and headed straight through the six cops.
"Go!!!" Miriam screamed, and all three ran for the van. The cops opened fire on Dr. Grant. He fishtailed in the parking lot, smashing cars all around him, got straight, revved that beautiful engine and drove head first into a squad car. Not the dramatic effect he had hoped for. So he backed right up, and rolled down his window
"You'll never catch me, coppers! Never! Ya, hear me?!"
He could see the van making a break for it, no one on their tail. Time for a good old fashioned police chase. In a BMW.
This was easily the most fun he'd had in ages.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Escape from the hospital part 3
"Leave him. "
"But he's still alive, doctor. He came to help our child!" Ariel pleaded.
"I know. And there's no telling what will happen here, but he's broken. He'll only slow us down."
"Do you even know how to get there?" The panic had returned in Osmond's voice.
But the answer was no. Dr. Grant had no idea how to get to their destination. According to the old man, a safe house to lay low had been constructed just outside the okanagan. The mysterious couple that had come for the child were supposed to rendez-vous near Kelowna, but the place described was none that any had ever heard of. Makes sense, thought the doctor. And there was no way that old cat was lying.
"I know where that is."
Miriam.
Her charade of playing dead finally at an end, she saw her way in to the group, and took it.
"I know what car those keys go to as well."
Osmond snorted in derision, "We've got wheels. And they aren't too shabby if I do say so myself."
"I'm willing to bet their vehicle is much better equipped for the journey ahead."
There was no arguing that one. Although so far they had failed miserably, the mysterious old couple must have been prepared.
"Yes. There's no doubt that it would be the safest vehicle to take..."
Doctor Grant paused for a moment. How did Miriam know which vehicle it was? She shouldn't be wasting her time watching security cameras. Had she watched them come in? And for that matter, how long had she been awake?
"Miriam, how do you know where this place is?"
"I don't EXACTLY know. But I grew up around there. It should be easy enough to find. Hiding in plain sight I'll bet."
"H...-" Dr. Grant caught his tongue. How long had he known this nurse for?
Not very long at all.
But she heard where they were going. What was he going to do? Kill her? One thing about being dealt a bad hand, you've gotta know when to play your cards.
Stroking his chin in thought, he caught the eye of the child. He was looking right at him.
"I know kid. I know." he muttered quietly.
"Know what, doctor?" Ariel had become quite alert. Her mind sharp and focused.
Without a word, Dr. Grant looked her right in the eyes, and batted his towards Miriam.
Ariel nodded slightly, understanding the position they were in.
Bad times were ahead. And they still weren't even out of the god damn maternity ward.
"But he's still alive, doctor. He came to help our child!" Ariel pleaded.
"I know. And there's no telling what will happen here, but he's broken. He'll only slow us down."
"Do you even know how to get there?" The panic had returned in Osmond's voice.
But the answer was no. Dr. Grant had no idea how to get to their destination. According to the old man, a safe house to lay low had been constructed just outside the okanagan. The mysterious couple that had come for the child were supposed to rendez-vous near Kelowna, but the place described was none that any had ever heard of. Makes sense, thought the doctor. And there was no way that old cat was lying.
"I know where that is."
Miriam.
Her charade of playing dead finally at an end, she saw her way in to the group, and took it.
"I know what car those keys go to as well."
Osmond snorted in derision, "We've got wheels. And they aren't too shabby if I do say so myself."
"I'm willing to bet their vehicle is much better equipped for the journey ahead."
There was no arguing that one. Although so far they had failed miserably, the mysterious old couple must have been prepared.
"Yes. There's no doubt that it would be the safest vehicle to take..."
Doctor Grant paused for a moment. How did Miriam know which vehicle it was? She shouldn't be wasting her time watching security cameras. Had she watched them come in? And for that matter, how long had she been awake?
"Miriam, how do you know where this place is?"
"I don't EXACTLY know. But I grew up around there. It should be easy enough to find. Hiding in plain sight I'll bet."
"H...-" Dr. Grant caught his tongue. How long had he known this nurse for?
Not very long at all.
But she heard where they were going. What was he going to do? Kill her? One thing about being dealt a bad hand, you've gotta know when to play your cards.
Stroking his chin in thought, he caught the eye of the child. He was looking right at him.
"I know kid. I know." he muttered quietly.
"Know what, doctor?" Ariel had become quite alert. Her mind sharp and focused.
Without a word, Dr. Grant looked her right in the eyes, and batted his towards Miriam.
Ariel nodded slightly, understanding the position they were in.
Bad times were ahead. And they still weren't even out of the god damn maternity ward.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Escape from the hospital part 2
Miriam awoke to the sounds of distant groans, and forceful voices.
Her memory hazy, she found herself able only to recall her emotions - the feeling of losing, fear, self disappointment.
She was still in the hospital, still in this wretched uniform...
The others! That's right. Those two geri-atrics that got the drop on her. Bastards.
She tried to move her legs, they were weak, but she had discipline. It wouldn't be long before she could walk.
Something strange though.. Someone had clearly propped her up. No other nurses around.. The instinct to cry out for help swept over her, but she bit her tongue, not sure of what exactly happened, she decided it best not to give herself away. Not until she could walk at least.
"I thought you said you could make him talk, Doc."
"Well, it would've been easier if you hadn't broken his wind pipe, lad. Look in his eyes. I can see it working on him already."
"Look at his eyes?! The weasel's smiling at you doc."
"Exactly. Now listen here man," this to the elderly man, "We don't have a lot of time, and I know it hurts to speak, but if you don't manage to answer coherently my friend here -'
"Osmond" the old man croaked out.
Mr. Mano and the doctor looked at each other for a moment. Though unsettling, it came as no surprise that this man knew Mr. Mano's first name.
"Yes. You know him," Dr. Grant said as more of a statement than a question, while the old man nodded his head in compliance.
"Tell us, what were your plans for the child."
"Salvation."
Ariel gasped. Osmond turned to see her holding the child, transfixed on the old man. He motioned to get up, but she stayed him with a light hand gesture.
"Relax baby. Let him talk." He sat back down.
"The child is in danger," the old man continued, "We came to bring him to a place where he could flourish."
"And what about us?" Osmond demanded vehemently,
"You have lives. We could never expect you to leave them completely. You're too much of a liability."
The effort to talk was clearly exasperating his speech. Dr. Grant could see him slipping out of consciousness. He gave him a quick shake, but the light in his eyes was growing dim. Was it death creeping on him? That would be too convenient.
"Look at me," Dr. Grant stared into his dulling eyes, "tell me where you were taking him."
"..."
'Tell him! Tell him you bastard! And tell him loudly!' Eyes shut, playing possum, Miriam could barely keep from exploding.
Her memory hazy, she found herself able only to recall her emotions - the feeling of losing, fear, self disappointment.
She was still in the hospital, still in this wretched uniform...
The others! That's right. Those two geri-atrics that got the drop on her. Bastards.
She tried to move her legs, they were weak, but she had discipline. It wouldn't be long before she could walk.
Something strange though.. Someone had clearly propped her up. No other nurses around.. The instinct to cry out for help swept over her, but she bit her tongue, not sure of what exactly happened, she decided it best not to give herself away. Not until she could walk at least.
"I thought you said you could make him talk, Doc."
"Well, it would've been easier if you hadn't broken his wind pipe, lad. Look in his eyes. I can see it working on him already."
"Look at his eyes?! The weasel's smiling at you doc."
"Exactly. Now listen here man," this to the elderly man, "We don't have a lot of time, and I know it hurts to speak, but if you don't manage to answer coherently my friend here -'
"Osmond" the old man croaked out.
Mr. Mano and the doctor looked at each other for a moment. Though unsettling, it came as no surprise that this man knew Mr. Mano's first name.
"Yes. You know him," Dr. Grant said as more of a statement than a question, while the old man nodded his head in compliance.
"Tell us, what were your plans for the child."
"Salvation."
Ariel gasped. Osmond turned to see her holding the child, transfixed on the old man. He motioned to get up, but she stayed him with a light hand gesture.
"Relax baby. Let him talk." He sat back down.
"The child is in danger," the old man continued, "We came to bring him to a place where he could flourish."
"And what about us?" Osmond demanded vehemently,
"You have lives. We could never expect you to leave them completely. You're too much of a liability."
The effort to talk was clearly exasperating his speech. Dr. Grant could see him slipping out of consciousness. He gave him a quick shake, but the light in his eyes was growing dim. Was it death creeping on him? That would be too convenient.
"Look at me," Dr. Grant stared into his dulling eyes, "tell me where you were taking him."
"..."
'Tell him! Tell him you bastard! And tell him loudly!' Eyes shut, playing possum, Miriam could barely keep from exploding.
Escape from the hospital part 1
After 6 short months the child was born. Pre-mature, monstrous, clearly amphibious, but as healthy as any parent could ask for.
Since the ultrasound, Dr. Grant had been in very intimate contact with the parents. He advised them to conceal the abnormalities of their unborn child, as he felt that secrecy would allow them to find a suitable environment to raise him.
He knew that was impossible.
What he didn't foresee was just how many different organizations would feel the same. Even though all the family and friends of the couple were aware of the complications involved in the pregnancy, the media was never alerted.
Strange.
Journalists are always hungry for a freak show, unfortunate birth, or genetic mistake, but the parents were never harassed, and no inquiries had been made at the hospital.
Wait until the baby is born he told himself. Then hell's gonna break loose. Surely...
But it passed undisturbed. All was calm.
The hospital staff gossiped as was to be expected.
The mother was terribly disturbed, and the father never left her side, foregoing his occupational responsibilities, but no cameras...not one.
It wasn't until the child's grandparents began to show up. Nothing out of the ordinary, until the third set came along.
Three sets of grandparents? It was time for some questions. But Dr. Grant wasn't the only one monitoring his patients. His head nurse had already sent security after the third set of elderly 'family'.
But they checked out - the father's parents.
Thats when it clicked. The first set of grandparents to show up had already claimed to be those of the father, but when they showed up the couple was resting and were unable to meet them. That was nearly 24 hours ago, barely enough time to relax after the birth.
Dr. Grant quickened his pace, anxiety creeping up his spine, he'd heard nothing alarming from any of the hospital staff,
"Dr. Grant?" queried the mother's mother. Sitting in the same waiting room with her husband where he had left them over six hours ago.
"Dr., when will we be able to see our grandson?"
Oh shit. Without a response he darted to the maternity ward. Violently swinging the door to the couple's room open, he couldn't dare believe his eyes. His head nurse, on the ground, out cold. A quick check of her pulse, alive. Thank god.
"Mr. Mano? Mrs. Mano?!" Dr. Grant could feel himself breaking into hysteria.
"It's Doctor Grant! Please, please tell me you're alright! Mr. Mano?!"
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, hair. Suddenly frightened, his fear grew as he caught sight of a pool of blood seeping out from behind an overturned bed.
Cautiously he stepped over to the scene.
"Mrs. Mano?!"
"Doc?!" Mr. Mano croaked out. His face had been sprayed with blood, his composure - terrified. He looked like a wild animal, cornered and caged.
"My word! Whats happened here?!" Dr. Grant began,
"They called me son... I've never seen these people before..." he started.
"Go on lad" prompted the doc.
"When the old man here started talking to the nurse, I noticed her eyes go wide before she sat down.
It scared the hell out of me, and then this woman here starts telling me its gonna be alright."
Dr. Grant looked over to the corpse lying on the floor. Sure enough, he recognized her, and the man lying on the other side of the couple. But he had never seen the first set of grandparents come to visit, he recognized them from somewhere else... couldn't put his finger on it, but there were bigger issues to address right now.
- "Leave it Doc. Another time" he told himself.
"What did you do, lad?"
"She reached for my boy, so I stayed her hand. I asked her who she was, and she said "I'm the child's god mother", and then I felt a hand on my back... I was scared doc! I reacted! It didn't feel right, I'm sorry!"
"Get a hold of yourself man! Did they hurt you?"
"No, I never gave them the chance, but I saw the needle in her hand come out when I twisted the old man's arm around. My wife started screaming and I just lost it, I beat the shit out of this old lady."
his eyes were rimming with tears. Mrs. Mano was silent, rocking back and forth with the child, sobbing uncontrollably.
The child... "Can I see the child sir?" this question prompted a glare of dangerous fear from the father.
"I don't need to hold him, I just want to see that he's alright."
Mr. Mano hesitated, then turned to his wife, "Ariel, let Dr. Grant see him, honey," he beckoned softly, "Sweetheart, just lift your head, doll."
Sobbing, she relaxed at the sight of the doctor, taking comfort in the man they'd both grown to trust over the last several months.
Dr. Grant froze.
It had barely been a day, yet the child was composed and alert. He looked Dr. Grant right in the eyes, and for a moment, the two just stared at each other, in complete awe.
"What are we gonna do Doc? I killed them!"
Dr. Grant leaned over and checked the pulse on the old lady, dead. But the old man wasn't a goner just yet. After a quick once over Dr. Grant looked at Mr. Mano in horror, "What did you do to this man? You say he didn't hurt you?"
"He's not as old as he looks Doc, that's one tough old bastard."
There was no doubt about that. The elderly gentleman was fit and in shape, clearly sent to do a job. Nothing in his pockets, but a state drivers license bearing the last name Mano, and a set of keys.
"You said you twisted his arm around, then what?"
A short pause, then he started "I've been taking martial arts since I was a kid Doc, and this guy's no slouch. I barely managed to keep him in check while I defended my wife. I managed to break his arm, which gave me enough time to notice the syringe in the old broad's hand. In the few seconds I had before having to deal with him again, I broke that old lady. I just couldn't let her get near my wife and child! But this old guy, I got him in a sleeper hold, and I didn't let go until Ariel started crying for me to let go. I think I broke his wind pipe."
"That you did lad. That you did."
"Doc, we gotta get out of here!"
"Definitely, but I have a feeling thats not going to be a walk in the park, lad. We're in some deep shit here."
"We? Dr. Grant?" Ariel finally managed to speak up.
"Yes, my dear. We. That child's going to survive. I swear to it. Now get yourselves together, I'll keep this down, and send for some clothes for you ma'am. But you and I lad, we've got some questions for this one here," gesturing to the shell of a man that lay on the floor.
"We gotta be quick, but I can get him to talk,"
"A doctor and an extractor?" jested Mr. Mano.
"You don't get to the top being a nice guy."
They shared a smile, and the baby smiled too.
Since the ultrasound, Dr. Grant had been in very intimate contact with the parents. He advised them to conceal the abnormalities of their unborn child, as he felt that secrecy would allow them to find a suitable environment to raise him.
He knew that was impossible.
What he didn't foresee was just how many different organizations would feel the same. Even though all the family and friends of the couple were aware of the complications involved in the pregnancy, the media was never alerted.
Strange.
Journalists are always hungry for a freak show, unfortunate birth, or genetic mistake, but the parents were never harassed, and no inquiries had been made at the hospital.
Wait until the baby is born he told himself. Then hell's gonna break loose. Surely...
But it passed undisturbed. All was calm.
The hospital staff gossiped as was to be expected.
The mother was terribly disturbed, and the father never left her side, foregoing his occupational responsibilities, but no cameras...not one.
It wasn't until the child's grandparents began to show up. Nothing out of the ordinary, until the third set came along.
Three sets of grandparents? It was time for some questions. But Dr. Grant wasn't the only one monitoring his patients. His head nurse had already sent security after the third set of elderly 'family'.
But they checked out - the father's parents.
Thats when it clicked. The first set of grandparents to show up had already claimed to be those of the father, but when they showed up the couple was resting and were unable to meet them. That was nearly 24 hours ago, barely enough time to relax after the birth.
Dr. Grant quickened his pace, anxiety creeping up his spine, he'd heard nothing alarming from any of the hospital staff,
"Dr. Grant?" queried the mother's mother. Sitting in the same waiting room with her husband where he had left them over six hours ago.
"Dr., when will we be able to see our grandson?"
Oh shit. Without a response he darted to the maternity ward. Violently swinging the door to the couple's room open, he couldn't dare believe his eyes. His head nurse, on the ground, out cold. A quick check of her pulse, alive. Thank god.
"Mr. Mano? Mrs. Mano?!" Dr. Grant could feel himself breaking into hysteria.
"It's Doctor Grant! Please, please tell me you're alright! Mr. Mano?!"
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, hair. Suddenly frightened, his fear grew as he caught sight of a pool of blood seeping out from behind an overturned bed.
Cautiously he stepped over to the scene.
"Mrs. Mano?!"
"Doc?!" Mr. Mano croaked out. His face had been sprayed with blood, his composure - terrified. He looked like a wild animal, cornered and caged.
"My word! Whats happened here?!" Dr. Grant began,
"They called me son... I've never seen these people before..." he started.
"Go on lad" prompted the doc.
"When the old man here started talking to the nurse, I noticed her eyes go wide before she sat down.
It scared the hell out of me, and then this woman here starts telling me its gonna be alright."
Dr. Grant looked over to the corpse lying on the floor. Sure enough, he recognized her, and the man lying on the other side of the couple. But he had never seen the first set of grandparents come to visit, he recognized them from somewhere else... couldn't put his finger on it, but there were bigger issues to address right now.
- "Leave it Doc. Another time" he told himself.
"What did you do, lad?"
"She reached for my boy, so I stayed her hand. I asked her who she was, and she said "I'm the child's god mother", and then I felt a hand on my back... I was scared doc! I reacted! It didn't feel right, I'm sorry!"
"Get a hold of yourself man! Did they hurt you?"
"No, I never gave them the chance, but I saw the needle in her hand come out when I twisted the old man's arm around. My wife started screaming and I just lost it, I beat the shit out of this old lady."
his eyes were rimming with tears. Mrs. Mano was silent, rocking back and forth with the child, sobbing uncontrollably.
The child... "Can I see the child sir?" this question prompted a glare of dangerous fear from the father.
"I don't need to hold him, I just want to see that he's alright."
Mr. Mano hesitated, then turned to his wife, "Ariel, let Dr. Grant see him, honey," he beckoned softly, "Sweetheart, just lift your head, doll."
Sobbing, she relaxed at the sight of the doctor, taking comfort in the man they'd both grown to trust over the last several months.
Dr. Grant froze.
It had barely been a day, yet the child was composed and alert. He looked Dr. Grant right in the eyes, and for a moment, the two just stared at each other, in complete awe.
"What are we gonna do Doc? I killed them!"
Dr. Grant leaned over and checked the pulse on the old lady, dead. But the old man wasn't a goner just yet. After a quick once over Dr. Grant looked at Mr. Mano in horror, "What did you do to this man? You say he didn't hurt you?"
"He's not as old as he looks Doc, that's one tough old bastard."
There was no doubt about that. The elderly gentleman was fit and in shape, clearly sent to do a job. Nothing in his pockets, but a state drivers license bearing the last name Mano, and a set of keys.
"You said you twisted his arm around, then what?"
A short pause, then he started "I've been taking martial arts since I was a kid Doc, and this guy's no slouch. I barely managed to keep him in check while I defended my wife. I managed to break his arm, which gave me enough time to notice the syringe in the old broad's hand. In the few seconds I had before having to deal with him again, I broke that old lady. I just couldn't let her get near my wife and child! But this old guy, I got him in a sleeper hold, and I didn't let go until Ariel started crying for me to let go. I think I broke his wind pipe."
"That you did lad. That you did."
"Doc, we gotta get out of here!"
"Definitely, but I have a feeling thats not going to be a walk in the park, lad. We're in some deep shit here."
"We? Dr. Grant?" Ariel finally managed to speak up.
"Yes, my dear. We. That child's going to survive. I swear to it. Now get yourselves together, I'll keep this down, and send for some clothes for you ma'am. But you and I lad, we've got some questions for this one here," gesturing to the shell of a man that lay on the floor.
"We gotta be quick, but I can get him to talk,"
"A doctor and an extractor?" jested Mr. Mano.
"You don't get to the top being a nice guy."
They shared a smile, and the baby smiled too.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
The birthing of the apocalypse
After seven years of delivering babies and dealing with expectant mothers, this was one of the eeriest ultrasounds Dr. Grant had screened. The child didn't look unhealthy, and the mother was clean, also the father. But as he looked at the misshapen head and prominent tail, he couldn't begin to find his tongue. The parents looked on in awe of their first born child, so filled with joy and excitement that they didn't notice the developing deformities of their baby, so clear to the doctor.
He could hear them talking to him. "So doc? How's he look? "
Trying so hard to respond, but the words just wouldn't come. It's not the first time he's had to explain to a couple that their child is going to grow up with physical a handicap, but a tail?! Thats a hard pill to swallow.
"Doc? Doctor Grant? Is everything all right?" the mothers voice starting to quiver.
"Yes, yes.. I mean.. um.. sorry. No." breathing deep
"The child is healthy, and growing at an accelerated rate. However, he - and it is a boy ma'am - seems to have several physical anomalies."
"No! Our baby's deformed?!"
"I'm afraid so. If you look here under the legs, you can clearly see some sort of extra appendage...most likely a tail, " Dr. Grant paused for a second to catch his breath, while the suddenly distraught couple could only manage to gasp.
"and I'm afraid the head seems to have somewhat of.. well... I'm afraid his skull may resemble the Rocketeer."
"That's not funny! Are you joking?! This is our child we're talking about!" howled the father.
"I'm sorry sir, I've never seen a deformity quite like this..I'm having a hard time finding the right words."
Then something else caught his eye, "Wait a minute. Now I know how hard this must be on you, but if you look closely here, by the neck..."
Dr. Grant took a few looks just to reassure himself that he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing, "Mr. and Mrs. Mano, you're child has gills."
Saturday, August 21, 2010
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