Chapter 2: The After Life
It was very late on a Sunday night and Dr Collins found himself walking towards his lab with one bastard of a headache. He had received the call an hour earlier, demanding that he get down here straight away. Apparently their benefactors had wanted to run some new test that, for some inexplicable reason, could not wait the few hours until morning arrived. This was not how he liked to do business but when the money people said jump, Collins asked how high.
He reached the end of the finely polished corridor, each white tile sparkling with the glare from the tube lights that hung overhead. Collins swiped his card and waited for the knowing beep. It took a few moments then the L.C.D display of the lock flicked green and the door opened with a metallic sigh.
His partner, Dr Graham, was already inside standing by an operating table on which the specimen lay. Graham was already set, fully dressed in his yellow biohazard suit complete with what looked like an old astronaut helmet from which two tubes extended to the breathing apparatus harnessed on his back.
"Hey Sam," Collins said as he made his way over to the lockers on the right side of the room.
"Hey, what took you so long?" Graham replied his voice distorted by the heavy breaths his suit forced him to take.
Collins grunted a laugh and then proceeded to climb clumsily into his own bio suit. It was just a precautionary measure to wear the unflattering thing; most of the chemicals they dealt with were designed only to be harmful towards transgenics but because they were in a test stage, it was wise to take appropriate safety measures.
Suited up, Collins made his way to the operating table. The young transgenic lay motionless, his pale face staring blankly at the numerous lights that hung from the tiled ceiling. If he didn't know any better, Collins would say the guy was dead but then he did now better; the poor thing was still very much alive. Collins and his associates had snatched him from the jaws of death just shy of a year ago. The specimen had been involved in some shoot out at a small restaurant. He had taken three slugs to the gut and had, medically speaking, passed on. However, thanks to the wonders of science, Collins and Graham had been able to bring him back after acquiring the body on the black market. It had cost them a pretty penny but an intact transgenic specimen was a valuable property these days. Now this poor sod was nothing more than a lab rat, subject to countless tests in search of new viral agents to deal with the entire transgenic threat. Should an agent be successful and he died, they simply brought him back to life by harvesting new organs for him through the combined methods of genetic engineering and advanced robotics. On one occasion, a failed virus had melted away his eyes and they found themselves having to create him a new set; a pristine pair of robotic blue eyes that gave him enhanced vision to match his lost transgenic sight. Their enterprise contained a number of scientists who had worked on the original Manticore project and so the technology was not foreign and the procedure really rather simple.
"Ok, ready to roll John?" Graham asked, reaching across to the table of surgical implements that lay next to the operating table. He retrieved a glimmering scalpel and flashed a quick grin. Collins knew that Sam Graham despised the transgenics, ever since one of them had run off with his teenage daughter a couple of years back. Consequently, Sam took great pleasure in his work and at times he appeared sadistic as he probed and prodded the young man that lay on their table.
"John?" Graham asked again, peering at his partner.
Collins awoke from his daze – it was too late to be doing this shit – and focused on his partner. He was brandishing the scalpel and his lips were still upturned in an excited smile.
"Yeah, sorry, I was miles away," Collins said, shifting uncomfortably in his suit. Damn things may be safe but they were sure as hell hot.
"You may proceed." A booming voice came down through the speakers that hung in the corners of the room. Collins looked up to the control room, a small box that protruded from the left wall. He could out make three figures standing behind the tempered glass. Two were dressed in smart black business suits - they were undoubtedly the money guys from the Anti-Transgenic League, their main sponsors – and a third was dressed in a white lab coat, that was Dr Ferrer, head of their research and another guy who had a slight disdain for transgenics. Everybody on this program hated these genetic soldiers, everyone except for Collins. He had always been indifferent, his passion for the science more important than anything else. Bringing the specimen, presently lying on their table, back to life had been Collins' proudest achievement and he did shy away slightly from the constant probing to find new and more efficient ways to kill him again.
"You want to start the tape John, I'll make the incision." Graham said, bending down and dragging the scalpel across the subject's throat. A red line appeared, like it had been drawn with felt pen, and then small amounts of blood began to trickle from the laceration and run down onto the shiny surface of the table. Graham smiled, he enjoyed inflicting damage upon these unnatural abominations.
Collins reached across to the table and grabbed a Dictaphone. He checked that the tape was ready and then pushed record. He cleared his throat and then spoke in the most professional tone he could muster.
"November 23rd, 2022, 3:00am. Dr's Collins and Graham attending. Subject X5-494 has been primed and prepared to receive viral agent X-Killer-2020." Collins paused and stifled a laugh; they always gave their concoctions such ridiculous names. He cleared his throat and continued.
"My colleague Dr Graham has made the incision to the throat and will now insert the virus directly into subject X5-494's windpipe. Expected effects should include bruising of the skin, followed by flooding of the lungs and then death. Should this test be successful then it will be green light to producing a mass batch of X-Killer-2020 and further research done to ensure the contagion can become airborne."
Collins stopped and watched as Graham retrieved a vial of clouded green liquid. He attached it to a syringe and then plunged it into the hole he had made in the throat. The vial was emptied into the windpipe and then both Collins, Graham and the men in the control box stood back and waited with bated breath...
Nothing happened.
"This can't be right," Graham said taking a step forward and peering at the vital signs displayed on the numerous monitors hooked up to X5-494. They all read normal, he was perfectly healthy. "The effect should have almost been instantaneous."
Collins took a step forward and peered down at the subject, Graham was busying himself with the monitors trying to see if perhaps they were malfunctioning. Blue eyes stared back at him, for the first time in a long time they had a sparkle of life about them, strange seeing how the eyes were not human. Suddenly colour began to flood back into 494's cheeks and his entire body began to convulse.
"Jesus, here we go!" Graham cried, pushing a hand down onto the chest of X5-494, his spine now rigid and arched, bending up towards the sky.
Frothy saliva began to bubble in his mouth and his eyes slipped back into his forehead. Something wasn't right here; this wasn't supposed to happen, the effects were supposed to be calm and controlled. Collins looked across at Graham, now desperately trying to restrain the subject, and shouted. "Something's wrong Sam! Look at his brain activity; it's off the bloody chart! He hasn't exhibited so much as a whisper in the past three months!"
Graham looked up as he struggled with the convulsing body. "I know," he cried desperately, "but maybe the result will be the same. Perhaps it has induced a more violent death!"
"What the hell is going on?" came an irritated voice from the control box.
Collins stepped away from the table and looked up. "We're not sure, this was not anticipated. Apparently the effects of X-killer-2020 are more...potent than we first predicted, but so far there is little reason to worry...we believe the end result will be the same; namely death."
"...Very well."
Collins returned to his place beside the operating table. Graham had abandoned his vain attempts at restraint and now the body of X5-494 began to thrash around uncontrollably. Dollops of blood began to explode from his mouth like lava from a volcano and his eyes were now pure white as they looked in every direction. Just what the fuck was going on here?
Suddenly and without warning the convulsions stopped and the heart monitor flat-lined, the ominous and constant ringing the only sound. Graham hurriedly checked all the monitors and then turned towards Collins with a satisfied look on his face, even with his hazard mask on Collins could make out the plump dimples in his cheeks. "Panic over, the fuckers dead!" he said triumphantly.
Collins allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief and then began to inspect the body. It was completely still and his blue eyes resumed their unbroken stare towards the ceiling. His face and chest were now smeared with white saliva and dull blood but the pale colour had returned to his entire body.
"Is he dead?" came the commanding voice from the control room.
"Yes sir," Collins replied.
Graham strode up next to Collins and gave him a nudge on the arm. "We've done it now, created an agent that can destroy transgenics but leave us humans feeling just fine and dandy. All we do now is wait and the big bucks will come to us baby."
Collins smiled. "I guess..."
"Is the body supposed to do that?" the mystery voice from the control room asked.
Collins and Graham turned around to find X5-494 sitting up, anxiously looking around the room. His eyes were alert and all his vital signs had returned to normal. A healthy red had emerged underneath his skin and now he seemed alive and well. He began to pull at all the leads fastened to his body and the tear in his throat was already beginning to heal right before their eyes...what the hell was this!
"What the..." Graham started only to be cut off by a deafening and agonised roar from the lips of X5-494. It was a horrible noise, a haunted howl from some beast in terrible pain...just like X5-494, Collins thought suddenly finding himself very afraid.
In an instant 494 had leapt to his feet and grabbed a serrated saw designed for cutting through bone, from the table. Immediately realising the danger, Graham turned toward the door with the intention of escaping but only made it a few feet before 494 had him by the throat. Graham struggled but it was no use, Collins watched in sickened horror as 494 dragged the saw across his throat, spilling his blood in a horrendous eruption of red.
Graham slumped to the floor gagging from inside his suit. 494 turned his attention to Collins, his robotic blue eyes soulless with a mad rage.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" came a muffled voice from the control room, "somebody call security...NOW GOD DAMNIT!"
Collins was trembling as he stared at 494 and 494 stared right back at him. Everything seemed so unreal from behind his visor like it was some sort of bad horror movie, but Collins knew this was actually happening. Something had gone terribly wrong and now the subject they had tormented so ruthlessly had been granted the ability to exact revenge. It didn't help his fear, but Collins couldn't help feeling he deserved what was coming his way in an almost invisible blur. He felt the strong arms of 494 wrap around his neck and then he felt the cold steel of the saw cut through his suit and then scythe open his throat. He managed to cry for forgiveness and then...nothing.
Letting his second kill fall to the ground, 494 began to look around for fresh meat. There was nothing except the blaring sound of an alarm and the drumming of heavy feet from outside the lab. The door opened and a security team, dressed in stone camouflaged fatigues with black flak jackets, and armed with automatic weapons spilled into the room, fanning out to surround his position.
494 snarled at them but they were undeterred, continuing to demand he get down and surrender. There were too many to fight and so he would have to find another way out. Whirling round, he found the far wall was composed entirely of glass. Without a thought for the consequences, 494 fled towards the windows, feeling the bullets whistle past him and crash into the glass inadvertently helping him with his escape. He jumped through and fell three storeys down before landing perfectly on his feet.
494 didn't stop to think, instead he raced off into the night with nothing but a faint memory, and a name lost for so long...Alec, his name was Alec.