The Fledge Effect (8 page)

They piled into the jeep, waiting for
their GPS to direct them where they need to go.
•••
Soon after she came upon the block from where
she lived, on Foxtail Road, an unfamiliar car
rested in her drive. Holding her breath, she
turned her wheel pulling into the space behind
the black car. The cars bumper bounced off a
bright ray of sunlight, temporarily blinding her.
She quickly regained her sight, and through her
squinted gaze, a dark shadow moved across her
living room window.
She reached into her glovebox, and
without looking away, found her handgun.
“Didn’t think I would ever have to use this
again,” she said, clicking in a, replaced, filled
cartridge.
The dark figure moved frantically
across her house. It seemed the place it kept
running back to was the kitchen. Emily tried to
peer in closer, but was unable to see its face. She
waited for her chance to get out, and move in.
But the figure began bobbing its head from view
of the window.
Who is it? Better yet, what is it
?
Her heart fluttered, she knew the damage Calista has done, but didn’t know whom else
it could have affected. The thought of a Fledge,
without knowing, for certain, of their nature,
made her chatter through her breathing exercises.
Nick, Calista… They may have been just
the exception. Maybe, the only exception.
She
knew of their capabilities, and didn’t doubt
what it could do to her. She bowed her head,
praying, “
Please, God. Don’t be a Fledge
.”
She sidled up to her back porch. Her
roses, in superfluous amount, wilted in the lack
of sun. She kept her ears in steady listening
mode, as the trespasser stomped abruptly
throughout her house. A moving truck beeped
as it backed out of the drive next to her house.
She heard the footsteps walk away, heading towards the living room window. Emily took her
chances, running through the door.
Inside was Maddie. She closed the curtain. The sound of the screen door squeaking
caught her attention. She followed the noise,
running towards the kitchen. There, she made
contact with a metal barrel. It pointed, shaking,
towards her. On the other end, stood her wide
eyed sister.
She stood, taken aback by her sisters’
lack of mannerisms. “Emily? Are you okay?”
She knew it was Maddie, but unsure if
it truly is. “What are you?”
Emily scoffed, confused. She rolled her
eyes. “I’m a pie… What do you think?”
“No! Are you human?”
“Yes,” Emily said with a slight nod.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Emily pressed escaping air through her
lips. She dropped the gun to her side. “Nothing.”
She looked up at her frightened sister, smiling.
“What are you doing here? Did mom send you?”
Maddie shook her head. “No. She
doesn’t know I came here, exactly.”
“Where, exactly, does she think you
are?”
“Shopping in the next town over.”
“I missed you,” Emily said, and gazed
around her house. “My house is clean?”
Maddie folded her arms behind her
back, and blushed. “I came in, noticed the mess,
and figured you would like to come home from
work to a clean house.”
“Thank you. But, how did you get in? I
locked this place up before I left.”
The place, now spotless, didn’t show
any signs of forced entry. She highly doubted
her sister could sift through walls or doors, so
her enthusiasm brightened. “Maddie, did you
inherit super powers after the last time we
met?” She let out a throaty chuckle, reluctant to
believe anything of the sort.
Sharing into her sisters’ laughter, Maddie spoke with a singsong chirp to her voice.
“You didn’t know? Yeah, totally. I accidently
bathed in toxic chemicals.”
Emily shook her head. With a wave of a
hand, she blurted out the first thing that came
to her mind. “Dying your hair don’t count.” She
eyed Maddie’s, once brown hair, which is now
blonde.
Maddie patted her hair down against
her neck. “You never know. Besides, a ceramic
frog is not the best place to hide a spare key,”
she said, shrugging as she tossed the key towards Emily.
They both stood twiddling their
thumbs. Maddie decided to break the silence.
“Um. Well, we should go shopping. What do you
say?”
Emily nodded, grabbing her gun off the
floor. She placed it on her kitchen table, leaving
the house. This time, remembering to keep her
spare key in her pocket. She locked all doors and
windows, ensuring no uninvited guests would
be able to gain entry into her home.
They took Emily’s car. And as they
pulled out of the drive, so did a few other cars.
All of which were avid shoppers at the market.
Except one, a black jeep. “Looks like the new
neighbor is following this conga-like line towards Barrett’s Market.”

“Well,” she breathed, “when it only
comes out once a month, it tends to be that
way.”

Later that day, it had seemed, Emily
and her sister, Maddie, walked down an empty
path of the outdoor market, Barrett’s Market.
They searched for a fruit that could resemble
the ones in her lab. The marketplace was the
first place to check. The one good thing about
the marketplace was that Emily felt safe there.

She’d smile after passing each attended
stand. Even though her breath would cut short
after seeing all of the happing, smiling, infants
receiving their parents’ loving natures. Her eyes
would swell with the thick warmth of tears. But,
luckily, Maddie was distracting enough.

Maddie turned to Emily. “Do you think
it would really be
here
?”
There were so many people there, only
trying to either eat right, or make an honest living. Everyone smiled, and waved at her, calling
her by name. She comes there often, and knew
exactly where to look, after helping Maddie finish her shopping.
“No,” Emily shrugged. “Maybe we
should ask someone if they know the origin.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Obviously it is not something that is
from this world.”
Emily thought about what she said,
wondering if it were possible. “What are suggesting? That it came from another world?” she
joked. Eyeing her sister curiously, an estranged
man
bumped into her shoulder. “Watch it!” she
said, unable to see his face past his hand.
Jerk
,
she thought. She caught a whiff of his cologne.
It struck a familiar cord with her, but she wasn’t
able to place it.
She bit her thumbnail, listening to her
sisters’ conspiracy theories. “Could they be?”
“What? No. That is impossible. I am
just saying that it was probably man-made.
What did you say it was called again?”
“They’re called Red Fates. I don’t know
the technical term.”
“Hmmm, doesn’t sound familiar.”
A Shadowy figure, standing in a dark
stairwell, caught the corner of her eye. She
pulled Maddie in, walking in a brisk manor. The
figure came to the light, waving a wooden pole
towards Emily’s feet. With a slam to her right
ankle, she fell to the ground screaming. She
looked up to her wide-eyed and frightened sister. "Maddie, run!”
The beat of her sisters’ feet pounded
against the brick pavement as Emily turned to
face her assailant. The figure wore a skintight
ski mask made of cloth, and baggy black clothes.
“Who are you?” she said, shivering as she held
her knee to her chest.
Without an answer, the masked attacker waylaid the thick pole against her temple.
•••
Marcel climbed back into his car, after filling his
order. He admires the luxury of his recent purchase, but doubted it made him look as young
as he felt driving it. In order to parade it around
in pride, he insisted on driving across town just
to get a simple cup of coffee. Even though the
fifteen-minute navigation back to the University, amongst the normal morning rush, drove
him crazy.
After driving for a while, he seen he was
only a few blocks away from being back into the
comfort of his lab. The cars in front of him
slowed to a near stop.
He honked his horn, slamming his hand down
on the steering wheel. “Come on, grandma!”
The irony made him giggle.
“Speed up or move!” he said to the silver car
ahead of him. He knew they could not hear him,
but he wished they could.
The pace of the vehicles sped up, swerving like a giant metallic serpent. “Finally,” he
breathed.
He reached for his coffee, bringing the
steaming liquid to his lips. That’s when a man,
running from the laundry mat, heeded towards
the middle of the road. Marcel slammed on his
breaks, spilling his coffee all over his shirt as he
gripped the steering wheel with both hands. The
man his bumper, flipping up into the air, and
landing on top of his hood. He jumped down,
completely unscathed. He stared at Marcel,
with glowing blue eyes and visible sharp teeth.
Blood dripped down his face as the man
grinned.
Marcel gasped in response. “
Another
Fledge
.”

He looked back towards the laundry
mat. Screams of women and children as they
maintained a refractory to the sacrifices they
were forced to make. Many people were turned
into a Fledge, aiding in the massacre. Some
were lucky enough to escape with only a bite,
but not so lucky to the experiences that would
inevitably come next. Marcel feared the worst,
locking his two car doors.

He looked back at the man in front of
him. Before he ran away as the occupants in the
neighboring cars quickly escaped their vehicular prisons, Marcel seen lesions peeling from his
skin.
The sun. The sun is burning him.
But,
Marcel couldn’t stop what happened next. The
man stopped in mid-step, illuminating a golden
ring around his body as it encased his entire being. Swallowed up by its fiery trenches, the man
screamed. What appeared to be an outline of his
shadow, flowing up to the sky, Marcel gazed at
it in disbelief.

Marcel searched for a route big enough
to squeeze his car through. He turned the wheel,
and then maneuvered through the two rows of
cars. The screech of metal-on-metal pierced his
eardrums as he pressed on the gas. “Shit!”

After making it to a clearing, a woman
began banging on his window. She hung on
tight to his handle, allowing his car to drag her
along the road. She screamed profusely. “Open
the door, please! Help me!”

He stopped the car, and reached to unlock his door. He couldn’t allow an innocent
soul to be taken.

Then, he noticed a mark on her forearm. Two puncture wounds leaked out blood.
He knew he couldn’t allow her to enter his car.
Keeping the doors locked, he pressed harder on
the gas pedal and sped off. She released her grip
from the handle and dropped to the ground.

•••
Emily began to flutter her eyes open, blinded by
the sun. She noticed a dock, in the shape of an
L. She then realized her entire body felt submerged into water, and wrists were bound to a
wooden stud. Her head bobbed above the water.
She tried to kick her feet, but they were stiff. She
groaned, heaving, as she thrusted up her legs
and revealed their ice-block bound prisons.

On the other side of the dock were two
people dressed in all black and wearing the
cloth ski masks. They noticed her thrashing in
the water.

Emily spit out a mouthful of water.
“Hey! Let me go!”
In silence, they approached her and
placed a burlap sack over her face and head.
They proceeded by pulling her out of the water
and smashing the block of ice off her feet. Then,
the taller one tossed her over his muscular
shoulder and carried her off the dock, and into
a black jeep.
She squirmed around in the leather
seat. “W-where are you taking me?”
No response, other than the occasional
click of the blinker. In the driver seat sat a
smaller man. He munched on a toothpick, as he
created an unheard of beat from fidgeting his
fingers on the steering wheel.
She sighed, tapping her fingers against
her knee. “P-please don’t kill me.”
A woman’s voice broke the silence.
“We’re not going to.”
“I-I’m s-so cold,” Emily said with a
shudder.
“Shhh,” the woman hushed.
Emily didn’t want to risk another blow
to head, and followed the woman’s silent command.
The jeep came to a halt. They led her
into a metal building, surprising her with another warm blast of air. Her fingers and toes
started to numb. They removed the bag, pushing her to sit down on the ground. “No chair?”
The one, who pushed her down,
glanced at her. “No. It’s cooler on the floor,” the
woman said.
“Can I at least s-see your faces?” Emily
didn’t know why she wanted to know what they
looked like. She assumed it would be an easier
death if she could see her killers. But, she shook
her head at that idea. She just wanted to know
if they were
human
.
Of course, they are Fledges. Why else
would they bring me here?
She threw her head back, expecting to
hit a hard surface. To her surprise, her head became cushioned. She followed a soft blue glare
to the wall. Looking from the side, all she saw
were bulbous balloons protruding from the
wall. It glowed with an iridescent blue, drawing
her in like a moth to a flame. Scooting up, to
change the angle in which she could see, she instantly felt as if she were the cat that was killed
by its curiosity.
Emily gasped at what they contained.
Species of all kinds remained in their fetal positions inside them. She inched closer, examining
an infant. She tapped on it, flinching at the
movement of the infant. “What is this?”
The woman giggled. “Our latest experiment. One I, personally, am proud of. Except,
that is the only one that survived so far. But, you
would know some about this, wouldn’t you?”
“It’s a Fledge?
How
?” Emily said. A mechanical umbilical cord connected the baby to
what appeared to be a matching placenta. “This
was clearly a child not yet born.”
“You’re right. We grew him. Here.”
“Why?”
“Same reason as your friend, Doctor
Johnston.
We were told to
.”
“By who?”
“Honestly? We don’t know. What we do
know, is that we have to.”
Emily found an empty one. The fluidfilled sac was softer than the occupied ones. She
poked it, testing how much softer. Pressing
down with her nail ruptured the sac. It spewed,
covering the floor she was sitting on. A man
yelled at her. “Hey, stop being nosey!”
She wanted to apologize, but couldn’t
find the words to move her lips. The man held
up her purse, tossing it in her direction. “Here.
We got what we needed.”
“What? Did you rob me?”
“Sort of,” the woman said with a
chuckle.
“Of what? Better yet, why was I kept
cool?”
“After we took what we needed, you
spiked a temperature. In case you were found to
be valuable to our plan, we didn’t want you to
die,” she cleared her throat, and continued,
“Now, it is probably best if you pretend this
meeting never happened.”
“What do you mean?” Emily shivered.
“Nothing,” Rachel said, “but we placed
all of your belongings back into your purse. Yet,
one thing doesn’t make sense.”
“What?”
“How are you employed at the University without any type of degree?”
“My late husband was able to pull some
strings.”
“Late? Is he dead?”
“To me, he is.”
The third person approached her with a
needle. He yanked her arm into his chest. Her
eyes widened as she shook with fearful anticipation. After jabbing the needle into her arm, sight
was eluded. The essence of her fight, weakened.
The stronger response that was triggered was
her flight.