The Iso-Stasis Experiment (The Experiments) (39 page)

“The Army? The Army is like the boring branch of the service.”

Annoyed, Jake hollered from the other room as he started back, “I heard that.” He handed Cal her beer. “Rickie, we appreciate the effort on your part . . .”

“I cut up all the questions into little squares and all.” Like a disappointed child he held up an abundance of cut up notebook paper which he had in a shoe box. “I worked real hard. You just don’t want to play because you know Cal-babe will rule over you.”

Nearly choking on his beer laughing, Jake wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh, she would not.”

“What do you mean I would not?” Cal snapped. “Oh, that’s right; you’re the, I-know-all-guy.”

“It has nothing to do with it,” Jake argued. “These are Rickie questions. A third grader would be an I-know-all-guy.”

Cal shook her head. “Rickie, I’ll play your game. He underestimates you.”

“Thanks Cal-babe. You want me to get Carlos?” Rickie started to get up.

“Stop.” Jake held out his hand. “I’ll play the Rickie Pursuit. What are the rules?”

Rickie smiled. “I’ll keep score. If it’s your turn and you’re right, you get ten points, five if you answer it when the other person gets it wrong. Simple.” Rickie slowed down his talking speed. “Do . . . you . . . under . . . stand?”

Jake breathed outwardly with a grunt. “Yes, Rickie.” Jake took a drink. “Fire away, Rickie.” He pointed the bottle at him.

“Cool.” Rickie laid the small notebook on the bed, closed his eyes and reached into the box. “I’ll ask you the first question, Sarge. You’re at a disadvantage.” He pulled out the first slip. When he read it, he began to laugh. “This is cool.”

“Ask the question, Rickie,” Jake barked.

“OK, in the
Batman
series, the good one where the old guy in the leotards is running about, which villain is it that the actor who played him has a salad named after him?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Jake snapped.

“Answer the question please.” Rickie held up the paper.

“There’s no villain with a salad named after him.”

“Wrong!” Rickie looked to Cal. “Babe, do you know it?”

Cal smiled. “That would have to be the Joker.”

“Ding, ding, ding.” Rickie grabbed a pencil. “Five points for Cal-babe.”

“What!” Jake looked at them. “How in the world do you get that?”

Cal rolled her eyes. “Joker is played by Caesar Romero, hence Caesar salad.”

Jake’s mouth hung open. “A Caesar salad is not named after the guy that played the Joker.”

“Ignore him, Rickie. Ask me the next question. It is my turn, right?”

“Correct-a-
Mundo
.” Rickie grabbed a question. “Name the really weird guy in the
Partridge Family
that Shirley was secretly banging.”

Cal with confidence answered, “Reuben Kincaid.”

“Whoa.” Rickie pointed his pencil. “Excellent. Cal-babe is the trivia ruler.”

“Wait a second,” Jake interrupted. “You can’t give her points for that. Reuben was the manager. He wasn’t sleeping with Shirley.”

Rickie tilted his head at him. “Dude, are we being a sore loser? Anyway, it’s your turn, Sarge.” He grabbed a question. “You should get this one. When taking out a babe for the very first time, what is a sure fire way to impress her?”

“I don’t know.” Jake raised his hand and let it fall to his thigh with a slap. “Spend a lot of money on her?”

“Buzz. Dude, no wonder you never got laid. Cal?”

Ignoring the disgruntled look from Jake, Cal answered. “Make sure you show up in a in a cool ride.”

“That is correct.” Rickie added more to her score. “Your question is what did Charlie Brown’s teacher say to him when he was in the spelling bee?”

Cal laughed and answered the question, “Waa . . . Waa . . . Waa . . . Waa.”

Jake grew more perturbed, especially when they laughed and Cal kept saying ‘good one.’ “What the hell kind of response was that, Cal? That wasn’t even an answer; that was a noise.”

 
“Sarge, Charlie Brown’s teacher didn’t speak. Cal was correct, and she’s winning thirty, nothing.”

Cal looked arrogantly at a baffled Jake. “You really aren’t getting it, are you? These are Rickie questions and Rickie answers. You have to think like Rickie.”

Grunting, Jake finished his beer and turned to Rickie. “I can do this, I was young once. OK, I’m ready now. Ask away.”

“All right, here goes.” Rickie pulled out another slip. “
Ah
. . . Sarge . . .” He cleared his throat. “What is the approximate relative atomic weight of Iodine?”

Jake’s mouth dropped open “Rickie . . . Christ. You don’t know that answer.”

“I do, too. See?” He showed the answer and then hid it fast. “I’ll have you know, I aced chemistry. Answer the question, Sarge. Time is ticking.”

Jake’s mouth fell open again and his annoyance grew with every note to the theme of
Jeopardy
that Rickie sang. “I’ll get it. Wait, I think I know it.” Jake scratched his head with the hand that still held the empty bottle. “I got it, is it . . .” A startling, long, blood curdling scream coming from the hallway disrupted his answer. “
Fuckin
’ Jennifer.” Jake looked to the door. “Is it . . .” He noticed Cal jump up and run to the door. “Cal, come on we’re playing a game here.”

Cal opened the door. “Jake, that scream didn’t sound right.”

“Cal.” Jake leaned forward shut the door and pulled her back down. “Jennifer is not right. Rickie, back to the game, is it . . .” His name, screamed by Carlos and John, sounding so desperate, was called over and over and grew closer to the door. “Son of a bitch.” Jake faced the door. “We’re busy here.”

Without knocking Carlos came bursting in the room. “Jake!” The look of desperation on his face said it all. He breathed heavily, his face was flush. He spoke quickly. “It’s Jennifer, something’s wrong. Something has her. It’s, it’s making that noise.”

“A wolf?” Jake asked as he reached for his duffle bag.

“It’s no wolf, Jake.” Carlos took off running down the hall.

“Cal, grab the M-16.” With the shot gun in his hand Jake followed. “I hate when I have to do this shit.” Bitching all the way down the hall, he stopped at Jennifer’s door. There were no more screams. “It’s quiet.” Jake placed his ear close. “What exactly did you hear, Carlos, besides her screaming?”

Carlos wiped the sweat that formed on his head. “I can’t describe it. Me and John were in the gathering room and we heard it first, and then she screamed.”

Cal arrived with Rickie. “You think she’s OK?” She asked.

Jake, rolling his eyes, shrugged. He lifted his hand to the door. “Jennifer?” He knocked.
 
“Are you all right?” The silence was broken by a ‘thump’ at the door. It caused Jake to jump back. “Rickie, Carlos, John, step into the gathering room. Cal, get ready to back me up.”

Cal raised the rifle as she stepped back against the wall in the hall.

Jake’s hand turned the knob on Jennifer’s door. He peered to his left, making sure that Rickie and the others were out of range. With his left hand turning the knob, he raised his shotgun with his right. The door opened with ease into the room and Jake’s eyes widened in shock as the room immediately came into focus. His whispered words were heard only by Cal. “Holy shit.”

Gasping, Cal covered her mouth to stop from gagging as she stood in the doorway with Jake. “What happened?”

“Keep you weapon up, Cal. And stay back.” Jake stepped into the room with the gun ready. The room was silent. Splattered blood looking like thrown paint covered the walls. Jennifer lay on the bed, and on the floor, and everywhere else in that room that pieces of her body could be tossed. “What the hell did this?” As Jake took another slow and apprehensive step forward, his foot touched down in a substance that squished. Lifting his foot to see what it was, he saw a long slimy clear substance stretched from the sole of his boot from the ground.
 
He looked around the room which was still boarded up and closed off. “Cal, join the others.” A bad feeling hit Jake; it surged into his gut, the type of feeling he did not often get. Walking backwards, slow and ready, Jake pulled the door closed as he stepped from Jennifer’s room.

“Jake?” Cal called from behind him. “What did that?”

“I told you to get with the others.” Jake held his gun up, backing her with him toward the gathering room.

Carlos, John and Rickie, heard Jake’s voice. They ran into the hall with him and Cal.

“Jake,” Carlos called staying close to the other two men. “What happened? Is she all right?”

Jake’s head tilted. “Shut up.” He pumped his shotgun. “Something is in . . .”

The cry out came first. With a loud bellowing gut roar, the door to
Griff’s
room exploded in splinters and the Catch stepped into the hall. Its arms were stretched outward in attack mode. It stood over seven feet tall with barely interpretable human features on a grotesque muscular body. It was covered in grey downy hair from head to toe. It snarled, yellow eyes peering forth, an almost slime-like substance dripped from its jaws.

Without any hesitation Jake began to fire. Cal’s weapon echoed his as they stood nearly side by side firing into the beast which was still stained with Jennifer’s blood.

Determination glared on Jake’s face but quickly changed to apprehension as the shots he blasted didn’t even faze the creature. “Get back Cal, he’s not going down!”

Cal ignored him and kept firing. She could smell the thing as it moved fearlessly toward them.

“Cal, get . . .”

The thing reached outward and, smacking the rifle from Cal. It spun from her arms and hit the floor. Stepping toward Jake, it reached with one hand, and easily snatched the shotgun from his hands and dropped it out of the way. The Catch then lunged. Gripping Jake with one hand it lifted him from the floor, turned and tossed him with ease down to the other end of the hall.

Jake slid, on his back at first, and then rolling from the force of the throw until he crashed thunderously into the far wall.

Carlos, shaking, leaped forward to get Cal. “We’re fucked.”

Jake shook his head. He could see his shotgun, Cal’s rifle and the glaring look of the beast all but saying ‘try it.’ Almost as if taunting Jake, the Catch stopped watching him and reached for Cal.

“No!” Jake screamed, picking himself up from the floor. In an emotional rush he charged forth at the creature. Raging like a bull, he ran as hard as he could; snatching up the first weapon he could grab in his run and barreled into the creature with all of his two hundred and sixty pounds. The floor vibrated as Jake and the thing crashed together not three feet from the others. Knowing he had stunned it, Jake jumped to his feet, stood with one foot on its chest and emptied the six remaining shells of Cal’s M-16 into the head of the huge destructor. Jake didn’t flinch, didn’t move, until the empty chamber clicked twice.

Cal stepped closer, still in shock from the sudden chain of events. “Jake, is it . . .”

Jake poked the motionless thing with the end of the rifle, moving its body, looking for a response. “I think it is.”

Carlos and John, knowing it was now safe, moved in to get a closer look.

John looked to Jake, who still stood atop the beast’s chest. “What the hell was it, Jake?”

“How the fuck should I know.” Jake looked back at the room three feet away, the room the thing had charged from. Jake didn’t want to say what was going through his mind. He was too much of a realist to believe it. “Let’s just get it out of here. I’m sure the wolves would like some dinner.”