The Iso-Stasis Experiment (The Experiments) (41 page)

Head of the institute or not, Dr. Jefferson hated being on the elevator alone when he was going down to what everyone in the research institute referred to as ‘The sub levels of hell,’ but it was something he had to do. His felt anxious as his imagination take off with him—fear of the elevator getting stuck, getting stranded, days . . . weeks, no one finding him, becoming in essence, one of his own experiments . . . “How profound I am.” Dr. Jefferson said out loud as he waited for the doors to open. “I ought to be a writer.”

He could smell them as soon as he stepped on to the floor. Though he knew for certain they were tucked away, deep and far back in the lab, their smell was predominant.

“Dr. Jefferson,” the woman’s voice called to him.

“
Ahh
, Dr. Holmes.” Dr. Jefferson shook hands with the dark haired woman, a big woman who was wearing a blue lab coat. “Did you get a chance to examine the video tapes I sent down yesterday?”

“I did.” Dr. Holmes nodded, escorting Dr. Jefferson to her own lab. “I think that you’ve nothing to worry about. The experiment, or rather metamorphosis, will be fine. It is rejuvenating as predicted. How long it takes will vary.”

“But my concern is that Graison unloaded six shells at close range into his head. That’s not a concern?”

“Not in the least. I work with these creatures on a day to day basis. You know as well as I do there are only three ways to kill them, the anti-generation serum, which only our Stasis people have, prolonged exposure to warmth during regeneration or severing the brain stem. Like the participants before them, I highly doubt these people will figure that out. Unless they do, the Stasis will keep coming back.”

In relief, Dr. Jefferson smiled.

Concern was what Aldo had most on his mind as he sat in the office of his home. He was ready to go to work, but his mind wasn’t in it. He stared ahead, grasping the photographs in his hand. Why was this experiment bothering him more than the others? He chalked it up to the fact that he had never made it quite as far in the other experiments. He never had time to get to know or care about his participant. He knew that in five days he would be back in Atlanta listening to Dr. Jefferson explain what was going to happen next. What had happened? Aldo knew what the metamorphosis was capable of and he hoped that Cal could withstand it, not just for the benefit of his win, but more so for herself.

“Daddy?” Alison knocked lightly on the door and then strutted into her father’s office. She sat down on his desk. “Who’s the woman?” She took the picture of Cal from his hand. “New love interest? She’s pretty and all, but don’t you think she’s a little young to be a mother to me?”

“For your information young lady, she had a daughter near your age.” Aldo took the picture back. “Unfortunately, her daughter was killed.”

“Oh.” Alison let her head fall. “So you like her, huh?”

“No, no. It’s not like that.”

“Yes, it is.” Alison taunted. “I see that grown up gawking look in your eye.” She touched his eye lid.

Aldo swiped her hand away. “Even if I found interest in her, I wouldn’t get between her and him.” Aldo showed her Jake.

“He’s nothing.” Alison tossed the picture. “You’re much more handsome and richer.” Alison slid off the desk. “Anyway, the car is out front and we have to go. I’ll be late for school.”

“Yes, you will be.” Aldo stood up, placed the photos in his desk drawer and gave his daughter a quick hug, kissing her on the forehead as he did. “Let’s go.”

Alison walked ahead of him, in what was for her, a good mood.

“Alison?” Aldo shut his office door. “You really think I’m better looking than that guy?”

“Oh sure you are, in an old guy sort of way.” Picking up speed, Alison took off running down the hallway.

Aldo shook his head and followed.

The howling cries of the wolves echoing with a haunting sound through the night air had ceased to have an eerie effect on Jake. Their distant rhythmic chanting, combined with the single burning candle in the room, fed Jake. He listened with a half ear, thriving on it, almost deriving a sense of strength from the foreboding feel they added to the ambiance. The louder the wolves became, the more intensity Jake felt as he sat in the center of the bed holding Cal so close atop him. His slow shallow breaths transformed into huffs as the soft grunting moans began to subconsciously emanate from him. His sweaty hands were clutched to her back. Jake no longer sang that annoying song in his head, concentrating on the hard to understand lyrics. It was time to let go. Sliding his lips up Cal’s neck he buried himself in her.

“Sarge!” Rickie called out, knocking on the bathroom door.

No, not now. Ignore him
. Jake continued on, fighting to block out the annoying sound of Rickie calling out his name.

“Sarge!”

Ignore him.
Jake’s lips pressed tighter. “Go away!” he called out, his voice muffled by Cal’s neck. The moment, the moment he had strived for and nearly achieved was being crushed by Rickie.

“Jake?” Cal whispered in his ear.

Jake shook his head at her then slid his hands to her face, using his palms as a sort of ear muffs.

“Sarge.” Rickie knocked. “We need you to get over here. We hear a noise.”

“No!” Loud and pissed off, Jake grunted, “Not now! I’m not . . . coming . . . .” Jake stopped speaking and then sighed, “. . . over.” He let out a deep breath and dropped his hands from Cal’s ears. Placing his forehead to hers he kissed her and without any words, they laughed softly at what had transpired. “I could just kill that kid. It’s the wolves, I know it . . . Rickie quit pounding on my door goddamn it! I‘ll be over in a minute!” He looked at Cal who still clung to him and whispered, “Maybe a little longer.”

^^^^

Coming through from the bathroom in almost a huff, hair tossed everywhere, Jake walked into the room. Rickie stood by the boarded up window. Carlos and John were by the door. “Now you want to tell me about the noises?”

Rickie cased Jake up and down. “Dude, you look like you just had sex. Did I interrupt you?”

“Rickie, when is it you don’t you interrupt me?” Jake threw his hands up. “What is this about a noise? And it better not be the wolves howling.”

“Listen to it.”

“Listen to what? I don’t hear anything.” Jake listened.

“It was there before. The window was creaking.”

“Rickie, the weather is bad. And the window is boarded up. I cannot believe you dragged my ass in here over this. There’s no way . . .”

With a loud bang the board covering the window crashed to the ground as if it had been thrown, and a wolf came sailing though.

It took everyone by surprise. Even the wolf was disoriented. Picking himself up, paws sliding badly, the wolf leaped outward. Lunging, it opened its jaws and snatched hold of John. The wolf pinned him to the closed door as he snarled, tearing and pulling at a screaming John
  
who he held tightly by his throat.

“Cal!” Jake cried out. “Get my weapon!” It all happened so fast, the crash of the wood, the thump of the wolf and John crying out in agony, blood pouring from his neck. Jake rushed toward the wolf.

Cal flew into the room, holding the sheet from the bed very loosely over her naked body. “Jake . . . Oh, my God.” She tossed Jake the revolver.

Jake caught it, placed the barrel to the chest of the wolf and fired four times. The animal’s jaws opened and he fell lifeless to the floor. John followed. His body slid down against the grain of the wooden door. He hit the floor, legs spread out, his body trembling, convulsing from the pain.

Jake clasped his huge hand over John’s wound. “Carlos, go get me some towels. Cal . . . you go get my pouch. Rickie board that window back up!” Jake squatted next to John. He had no comforting words to give the bleeding man who stared at him with beckoning eyes, eyes that looked frightened.. He stared at John emotionless and in shock.
 
Foremost in Jake’s mind was the knowledge of what had happened to him after his wolf incident. He kept that knowledge to himself, not speaking it to John. He didn’t need to know about it, Jake thought. Because Jake knew deep in his gut, that John hadn’t the strength or determination to pull through the death sentence the fangs of the beast had just passed down to him.

Taking the towels Carlos handed him, Jake laid John on the floor. “Rickie, what do you have to calm him down? What drugs?”

Rickie held the board to the window, getting ready to pound. “I have some perks.”

“Good.” Jake knelt before John. “When you are done with that window, get me one . . . no, two.”

“Will he be all right?” Carlos asked as he knelt across from Jake.

“I don’t . . . . Thanks, Cal” Jake noticed Carlos’ eyes left him about the same time that the pouch Cal got for him was handed down. Cal knelt down, still holding the sheet to her body. Her entire right leg protruded drastically from the nearly open sheet as she bent her leg. “Hey!” Jake reached over with his free hand covering Carlos’ eyes. “Cal, for Christ sake, will you get some clothes on.”

Cal bit her bottom lip and stood up. “Sorry. I didn’t want to waste time by getting clothes on.”

Jake waited until she slipped away and removed his hand. He gave Carlos a stern look before retrieving a pack of sutures from his bag. “I can’t believe there’s a dying man on the floor and you’re being a peeping
fuckin
’ Tom.”

“Jake, I’m sorry. How did you learn to do that?” Carlos asked watching Jake work on John.

“Practice.” Jake pulled and stitched John’s skin, ignoring the cries that John made. “These aren’t too deep. It missed the jugular.”

“Then he’ll be fine?”

Grabbing the small scissors, Jake snipped the sutures, grabbed his pouch and stood up. “Can you and Rickie get him into that bed?”

“Um . . . sure,” Carlos answered.

Jake walked past Rickie, laying his hand on his back. “There’s more wood in the storage closet. Grab a small two by four and secure it across. Got that?”

“Yeah, Sarge,” Rickie said. “Sarge?” He waited for Jake to turn around. “What if something happens again while we’re all sleeping?”

“Nothing is going to happen when we’re all sleeping. I’ll be up. I’ll make sure of it.” Jake walked into the bathroom, slightly closing the door, and turned on the faucet to wash the drying blood from his hands.

“Jake?” Cal, now wearing jeans and a sweatshirt entered the bathroom. “How’s John doing?”

“Well, if it isn’t the exhibitionist. John’s doing.” Jake scrubbed his hands.

“At least you stopped him from bleeding to death.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.” Turning off the faucet, Jake reached for a towel that wasn’t there. “He took our towels. Son of a bitch.”

“Jake. Why would you say that?”

“Because,” He said and opened up the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a hand towel. “You and I both know what is going to happen to him in about twenty-four hours.” Tossing the towel down, he walked past Cal.

“I didn’t think of that.” Cal followed him.

“I know what happened to me. He’s not strong enough to pull through it; he’s not me.”

“No, he’s not.” Cal watched Jake pull out his revolver, check the chamber and toss it on the bed almost in frustration. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jake turned to her. “I’m still stuck on the fact that you exposed yourself to Carlos.”

“It’s nothing Carlos hasn’t seen before.”

“Unless he’s seen you, then it is something he hasn’t seen before.”

“Jake, I would really think at this moment, you would have more important things on your mind.”

“Like what?” Jake plopped on the bed.

“Um, say John, for example?”

“John is pretty much going to end up being bait for the wolves if we need it.”

“Oh, Jake, that is cold.”

“It’s reality.” He scooted over and patted a spot for Cal to sit next to him. “OK, here’s the deal.” He slid his hand on her leg as soon as she sat down. “I’ve got a bad feeling brewing in me, a feeling that tells me that things aren’t going to get better. I feel like I have to shift into a different mode. I need to be on guard more. I know I’m always on guard, but now, really in that state of mind.”

“I understand what you mean,” Cal said.

 
“I’ll need you in that mode, too, while I sleep. I’ll try to do that during the day. But I can’t be too easily distracted for long. Your safety is too important. And, I’d like to kind of keep an eye out for Rickie also.”

“Rickie?” Cal edged her way closer to Jake. “Jake, are you saying you like Rickie?”

“Yes, I like Rickie. I don’t want anything to happen to him. But don’t tell him that. Besides, I’m getting his ass recruited when this thing is all over with.
I
want to put him in my company.”

“You’ll take all the fun out of him,” she complained.

“That’s life. You do know, Cal, we can pretty much say goodbye to our privacy. And just when I started to get the hang of this making love thing. I am getting the hang of it right?”

“You know what you are doing now.”

“Now, as in not like before?” Jake asked.

“It’s just that . . . it’s just you were a little rough around the edges when we started.”

“I cannot believe you were just that blunt with me.” Jake was shocked.

“Just think of it this way. The next woman you sleep with . . .” Cal kissed him and stood up. “You can be confident you’ll make her happy.”

“Wait a second.” Jake grabbed her hand, pulling at her. “The next woman I . . .”

“I’ll be back, Jake.” Cal let her hand slide from his and walked to the bathroom. As she opened the door she was nearly knocked over by Rickie. “Rickie? What’s wrong?”

Rickie’s eyes were wide. “Cal-babe . . . Sarge. Come here.”

Jake swung his legs off the bed and followed Rickie to the other room. “What is it?”

Rickie pointed to Carlos. “Cover John’s mouth up for a second;
 
it has to be quiet. Dude . . .” Rickie pointed to the window. “Just listen.”

Jake took in the silence of the room and breaking through it was what Rickie needed him to hear. Jake left the room immediately and went to the other room. He grabbed the duffel bag pulling out the shotgun and the rifle. He handed Cal the shotgun. “I’ll be back. Stay here.” Jake opened the door. “Stay put. And stay on guard.” He closed the door and marched down the hallway. He reached up and lowered the hatch to the roof, pulled down the ladder and climbed up.

In the frigid cold of the night, wind whipping, snow falling so harsh it almost blinded him, Jake stood on the roof. Through all the racket of Mother Nature’s furies, through the howling of the wolves that seemed so faint in the distance, he heard it. Its cry was far away, yet distinctive enough to make out over every other sound. It wasn’t a wolf.
 
It wasn’t a growl. It was a stomach shaking wail, a crying out, deep, shrill and long. It was to Jake . . . a warning.