Author's Note:
Hey everyone! As always, thank you SO MUCH for the reviews.
Chibi Rose Angel: Heh, they aren't dead yet Chibi chan! Have a little faith…
Blix Howlett: Yep, gotta love the blood and gore! (Sniff) Are you coming back to us soon?
Medeah: I can't thank you enough for all of the work that you're doing. I appreciate it! Wish I could buy you ice cream or something, heh. I'm so sorry, but you have to wait just a bit longer…
Reinbeauchaser: Don't hurt yourself with those fireworks! Fire good, burn bad! Sorry for leaving you in a bad spot, I know that Donnie's your favorite. And alas, with having to jump back and forth, you'll have to wait and see what happens with him…(evil grin) Thanks so much for the long review!
Linchi: Hey bud! I gave a little "shoutout" to you in this chapter – can you find it?
Fallen Hikari: (Waving) Hey! I think I'll keep my mouth shut about Donnie, sorry babe! Come to think of it, I think that I owe you a review for PoP…
Sporkey: Writing, drawing, it's all good! I'd love for you to send me some of your work…even if it's not for TMNT. You're so talented!
Reluctant: Miss vet-2-B! Donnie, a chance? Maybe…
Mikaela's Spade: Yes, bizarre is good. I like bizarre! Thanks for reading!
Lunar Ninja: Are you still unconscious? Heh, sorry about the disclaimer again…I better start running!
Red Turtle: Hi! Yeah, I'm a little behind posting this for TGU. Wish I regret, because it's a really great site that deserves more patronage. Gotta love freedom from restrictions…
Ninjalara: You have no idea how much I'm enjoying The Genetic Prison. You really are a genius. Thanks for stopping by!
Kaya Lizzie: Thanks girlfriend! Glad to get your nose twitching…and you're doing a great job with your story too!
Nightwalker3: Yep, I'm enjoying a few weeks off from work, but then back to the 'ol grindstone. Thanks for the review! I have to say, I enjoy torturing all of them…
Pacphys: Sorry to torture your Donnie-kins! You'll have to stay tuned!
Isis-Lament: Wow, thanks so much for the long review! It made my day! Glad that it's unpredictable – believe me, the big story defining event is still to come! And hopefully, it will be just as suprising…
Pi90katana: Hey T! I believe that I owe you a review too…bad Sassy for reading and not reviewing! I always seem to read your chapters when I'm really busy. I'm coming, I promise!
Mickis: Thanks so much for the review! Did he or didn't he? That seems to be the question of the day!
Babyhilts: Wow, what a compliment. I really appreciate the kind words. It's what keeps me going!
XXXElektraXXX: Yeah, sometimes I wish that I could play that song while I'm writing…I think that it would definitely put me in the mood, LOL. I really need to go download it! Thanks for reading!
Kerrbear: Glad to keep you in suspense. Thanks for the review!
Quesun: You love the horribleness? Great compliment! Thanks for the review!
A Wingblade: A new reader! Thanks, and I'm glad that you're enjoying!
Whew. Now all, I'm sorry to say that this chapter isn't going to calm your suspense for poor Donnie. It's one of those dreaded transition chapters – but important, none the less. Believe me, I am not normally a big fan of OCs…in fact, in the original plan, this story didn't have any. But as the story, and its themes, took shape in my head, I realized I needed a few more characters in order to develop the TURTLES in the way that I wanted. So rest assured, Jake, Tara, and Abby are NOT major focuses of this story – but they do have a specific role to play. And that means that they need at least a little bit of elaboration…
So please, just hang with me on this one. The action (and yes, Donnie) will be back soon! The next chapter is nearly finished, it'll be up by next week.
Disclaimer: (Sorry Lunar Ninja! I couldn't resist...)
And if you still have delusions
That they are mine
I'll hit you, baby
…One more time
"Few men during their lifetime come anywhere near exhausting the resources dwelling within them."
- Richard Evelyn Byrd
CHAPTER 8: INNER STRENGTH
JAKE
Forty-one years ago, almost to the day, my father had decided that his second born son would be named Carl Jakes. There was no middle name. Carl was the whole of it, for my father was a plain Midwest banker with an implacable horror of anything fancy. My mother made no objection, having already surrendered to her husband's wishes years ago with the birth of her first son, Tim. Not Timothy, just Tim. Also no middle name. Yes, sir, simple things were what my father liked, and my mother didn't seem to mind so much, even if it did extend all the way to her babies' names.
I don't remember how it happened, but to this day, Tim has always been called Tim, and I've always been called Jake. My mother even did it, although I'm not sure if she started it, or picked it up from those around her. One of my earliest memories is from a schoolyard baseball game, and the kid that owned the bat was choosing sides. He turned to my brother and me, and called out "I'll have Tim and Jake." All the kids did the same thing. The teachers, too. They called me Jake, even in kindergarten. Through high school, college, all the way to my first job, the name traveled with me.
But I'd gotten used to it, having no problem living my life behind a one-word name. I was Jake, always had been, always would be, to everybody. I was the quiet one, serious, content to let myself blend into the background. My whole life, I'd only had one steady girlfriend. Linda. We'd met in college, both accounting majors, but had broken up after graduation when I took my first job in New York City.
I've been by myself ever since.
My brother was my exact opposite. Tim seemed to take his simple, unobtrusive name as a challenge. To see how big he could really make the man behind those three little letters. He was a playboy – intelligent, good with women. He went to UCLA on an academic scholarship, became a doctor, and married soon after graduating. He and his wife had two beautiful daughters, Tara and Abby.
He became everything I wasn't, and had everything that I've always wanted.
Sometimes, I can't help but hate him.
Until two days ago, nothing even remotely interesting had ever happened in my life. Every morning, I went to work. Came home. Ate dinner, watched a little TV, went to bed. A very boring, plain existence.
Abby had been in my care for the last two days, after her parents flew in to attend a cancer convention at the New York Medical Center. Tara, who lives in New Jersey, had just driven up to visit, planning to spend the next day with her sister before they flew home.
Until the world had come crashing down…and my ordinary life suddenly took a dramatic turn.
In the last 48 hours, not only had I managed to hold my own against a horde of virus infected lunatics, I'd been able to protect my nieces as well. We'd gone from locking ourselves in my apartment bathroom to fighting our way to the roof, all the while, me, wielding a gun for the first time. Taking down anyone that stood in my way. Who would have thought that fighting for your life could be so empowering? Or that the quiet, shy accountant could play the hero?
Definitely not me. And even after all of that, I'd made one of the most extraordinary discoveries of the last century.
Turtles. Big, humanoid, mutant turtles.
And of course, being the bumbling idiot that I am, I had to tarnish my day of heroics by going and shooting one of them. Only four in the whole wide world, and I may single handedly be responsible for making it three.
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid Jake.
But as sorry as I am, I can't help but feel sorry for myself as well, because I have feeling that I'm going to die before I get the chance to tell anyone about it.
TARA
The whole situation still held a sort of surrealness to me. Even as the smell of death hung in the air, and the screams of terror ebbed and flowed with the wind, I couldn't believe it was real. It was a dream – just a long, crazy dream that I was going to wake up from.
My parents might be dead. Hell, they probably were dead.
But I didn't cry.
Maybe it was because we lost touch so long ago, their pride and hope lost on a daughter that was destined to become nothing more than a bartender. A girl that wore tight skirts and halter tops to work, hoping that an eyeful of her breasts might garner a tip from the businessmen visiting for a drink after a hard day. No, I definitely didn't live up to their expectations, that's for sure.
Or maybe I just couldn't believe that it could happen to my parents. My whole life, I'd never been to a funeral. Not even for a pet. At twenty-one years old, death seemed a foreign and intangible concept that I couldn't wrap my emotions around. So I pushed the idea to the back of my head. Because if I didn't think about it, didn't cry, it couldn't be true.
Right?
As horrible as it sounds, I kept focusing on how dirty I felt. God, I wanted a shower. Or a bath, filled with scented oil and lots of bubbles. But even more than that was the desperate need that I had for a cigarette. So much so, in fact, that I felt nauseous and my hands had been shaking for the last few hours.
The turtle had noticed. Mike, April had called him. Although his major concern was for his brother, he kept a close eye on the rest of us as well. When he'd asked me what was wrong, I'd tried to play it off, saying that I was shaking from being cold. Too windy on this damn rooftop, I'd told him. But I was a horrible liar. He saw right through me.
"You addicted to somethin'?" he'd asked, flat out. Suprisingly, it hadn't sounded like an accusation. His voice held the compassion of someone that wanted to help, not just give me a lecture.
"Pretty insightful for a turtle, aren't you?" I'd replied. He only half-smiled back at me, and I instantly felt bad. "Sorry, that was kinda bitchy."
"S'fine." There was a pause. "You gonna tell me what you're on?"
I almost laughed. Did he think I was a crack addict or something? "Just cigarettes. I work in a bar. Being around it all the time, it's hard not to start up yourself. I hate to admit it, but I'm a pack-a-day girl."
"Cold turkey is a hell of a thing to have to put up with right now, huh?"
And that was it. No hassle, no crap about how I had better things to worry about. Like staying alive.
I'd liked him instantly. Well, instantly after I'd gotten over the fact that he wasn't human, which suddenly didn't seem so weird anymore. Not after the fact that the world was going crazy. It wasn't just his uncritical demeanor, but for the protectiveness that seemed to emanate from him.
Somehow, in this desperate situation, Mike made me feel safe.
MICHAELANGELO
The three of us were sitting along Leo's left side. Me, then April, with Abby stretched out beside her, head on her lap. April and I both watched Leo, while Abby's eyes gazed blankly across the rooftop. She would close them intermittently, as if trying to sleep, then they would flutter open again. Containing the same expressionless stare.
Leo's breathing was getting more shallow. It would slow gradually, until lack of oxygen would throw his body into a round of coughing. I could tell that he was in pain, even in his sleep. His muscles would tense, trying keep his chest as still as possible until the coughing would subside. Blood painted the corner of his lips. The idea that it might be coming from his lungs scared the hell out me.
He needed help, and I knew it. Antibiotics, pain medication, hell, even basic cleaning of his wounds. I had nothing to work with. We were sitting and watching him die.
"April?" Abby's voice was timid, breaking the silence. "I'm really thirsty."
April shifted, letting out a soft sigh. "I know, sweetie. I know." She rubbed her hand lightly up and down Abby's back.
"April? Do you think my Mom and Dad are dead?"
My heart skipped a beat. I'd been waiting for that question. Neither Tara nor Abby had mentioned their parents. I knew that they existed, because Tara had said that they were only visiting their Uncle Jake, not living with him. April shot me a panicked look.
"I hope so, Abby," she answered. "Maybe they're somewhere safe right now, thinking about how to find you."
The little girl, so strong until this point, stronger than someone her age should be, finally broke down. She shuddered; then her shoulders began to shake. As she drew her next breath, it came up from her belly in a sob.
April pulled her closer, rocking gently. Abby cried. Hard. And instead of just sitting and listening, I made a decision.
"I'm going down there."
Stunned, April didn't answer. Abby withdrew slightly from her embrace, regarding me behind a wall of tears.
"We need water. Food. And Leo needs antibiotics," I stated firmly. "I'm going down."
April was staring at me. Her hair was almost golden in the diffused light of the moon. It was hanging forward over her face, parted by the sweep of her brow. Her expression looked exhausted, but her eyes held only one emotion – concern.
"Mike, you can't."
"I have to."
"But shouldn't we wait for-"
I gripped her shoulders, gently, but still firm. "April, he's gonna die if I don't do something. I'm not going to just sit around and watch it to happen."
She grimaced, then nodded slowly. "I know…I just don't want to lose you, too."
Those words tugged at the corner of my heart, but I didn't have time for sentimentality I was feeling. Too much emotion and we would both fall apart. Instead, I grinned, pushing the hair out of her face.
"Give me a little credit. I'm tougher than I look," I said, straightening and puffing out my chest. "Besides, haven't you ever seen me play Resident Evil? I can kick some major psycho ass in that game."
Tears had welled up and spilled down her face, but she couldn't help but smile. I gave her a quick half hug, ruffling the hair on Abby's head with my free hand. "I'll go as fast as I can. Keep the doors locked while I'm gone, okay?" I joked half-heartedly.
Breaking the embrace, I afforded a quick glance at Leo before heading toward the cut-off ladder.
Don't worry bro, I'm not going to let you down.
I spun one of my chucks as I walked, trying to psyche myself up, trying to forget about the pain that still lingered in my foot. Man, it was going to be interesting trying to get down off this rooftop.
I heard April's voice, barely audible as it trailed off behind me.
"Please be careful."
A/N: Thanks for reading guys! I'll be back soon...review? Or not...just enjoy.