BEGINNINGS

3 - In the Months Following

Since Jacobs' leaving the office, Hammond had been pouring over the reports in the file. Three thirty-five in the afternoon slipped onwards to four-fifteen and finally to six-fifty in the evening. Previously neat stacks of papers were unclipped and now strewn across the mahogany desktop. Hammond sat at the desk, his head cradled by his hands tangled in his hair. His blue eyes stared distantly at one particular paper having his signature authorizing the testing of samples.

He sighed. His gaze lazily rolled across the pages to another towards the edge. A series of boxes at the top of the page was highlighted yellow and read: Company - International Genetics, Specimen Number - ten, Specimen type - hybrid. The word 'hybrid' burned into the man the most. Should anyone outside his company learn of the specimen's creation, he was sure, In-Gen would be razed to the ground by legal matters. Then came the idea to destroy the specimen and paperwork regarding it when no one was looking. But there was no way to silence a loose tongue should someone decide to talk.

What bothered Hammond the most was how well Lockwood was taking to the freak of genetics. He would coo and even hold the baby as though it was a perfect human child.

Hammond was in a hell of a predicament. It was either damned if he did or damned if he didn't. He hastily collected the papers and mindlessly shoved them back within the folder, messy or not. It was then that the label on the folder's tab caught his eye. The words 'Pet / I-10HY' shined in bold black lettering. Outraged, Hammond grabbed a black Sharpie marker out of a pen cup next to his computer screen and yanked off the lid. He mashed down on the marker tip as he colored over the word 'Pet.' He did, however, leave the number I-10HY untouched. Satisfied, he slammed the marker back into the cup and stormed out of his office.

His grip was unrelenting on his cane's decorative amber topper and his strides fierce. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes and the creases between his brows were enhanced by his angered expression. Hammond made his way from the zoo's central building, to the outside and to where several zoo golf carts were parked. He got into one of them and quickly drove off and towards the zoo's science and research facility.

It didn't take him long to find his way to the lab housing the specimen's incubator. He had every intention of ending what he just knew was to be the demise of his company should it be left alive. At least he could press for his own legal matters against anyone who threatened to talk about the abomination's creation once it was destroyed. He couldn't, however, take such action when the damned thing was still alive.

Hammond entered the lab, which happened to be empty of any technicians and shut the window's blinds. He stood over the incubator, his shadow blanketing the tiny sleeping form, and stared down hatefully. The chest of the otherwise motionless creation rose and fell with each breath. A clawed, soft pink finger twitched.

The longer he stood there, everything in the room began to take on a different feel. There was an incredible weight on his shoulders that had also settled into his chest. The air was thick to breathe as a knot tied itself in his stomach. The monitor's consistent beeping grew louder and louder in his ears. His vision started to blur. When he blinked, a tear trailed from the corner of an eye and down his bearded cheek.

Hammond could hear Jacobs' past words echo in his ears, suggesting the hybrid his daughter due to his DNA being what helped create her. "No," Hammond growled to himself. "I already have a daughter and you...are...not...her!" The man spun around and left the lab. To a passerby, it almost appeared as though the man was fearfully running away. In truth, a part of him was, but he wouldn't admit it to himself or anyone else.


Three weeks later, Pet was still healthy and growing to what Dr. Jacobs calculated. With it came a growing appetite to match. With Pet's growing came firmer muscles, especially in her jaws as her forming teeth chewed through multiple bottle nipples. Muldoon had to eventually break her into getting fed by hand, the game warden using a baby's feeding spoon to try and feed a mashed hamburger meat and goat milk mixture. It was difficult the first few times, but after a while, she got used to it. Muldoon felt proud of himself for helping take care of something he almost killed out of fear of what she would become in the future.

At the same time, Pet's claws were firming up which made feeding her more difficult. Knowing it would probably be best for the others handling her and for the baby as well, Muldoon carefully cut the sharp tips of the claws with nail clippers. Her hands and feet were then wrapped in baby mittens.


Eight months later...

Nothing entertaining seemed to be on, as was the case more often than not. Muldoon was so focused on being frustrated at the TV that he didn't notice a small clawed hand reach up and grab the edge of the coffee table. He sipped his beer from its long neck bottle and flipped to another channel as the hand slipped. The sound of claws scraping something got his attention as he looked over the table to where an eight-month-old Pet sat. Her head rolled upwards to meet his gaze. She gave a squeal-like bark and slowly sighed. Muldoon smiled and sat back down to resume his channel surfing. Again, a clawed hand reached up to grab the edge of the table followed by another one. Within a few moments, a pair of yellow eyes peered from over the table, Muldoon seeing them.

"Well look at you trying to stand up."

A chirp-like bark came from the baby, which made the man curious. Over the course of the months he had been taking care of her, he had heard her make all sorts of different sounds and gradually, was learning what they meant by association. But this one was different. Pet barked again from where she stood, and wobbled before she fell back down onto the carpeted floor. A faint snort came from the hybrid from the other side of the table. Muldoon got up and went over to her.

He knelt down beside her and watched her try to get up again as she dug her claws into the wooden table's edge and pulled herself up. After she managed to stand up, she wobbled and chirp-barked as she tried to keep herself upright. The game warden tilted his head to the side and observed the baby's actions with intense interest. The more unstable the baby became in her standing and grasping onto the table, the more desperate sounding the barks became.

To the floor she fell again, releasing a higher pitched screech of a snort. "You're frustrated, aren't you?" Muldoon was more thinking out loud to himself than anything and took her by her hands to help her back up to a standing position. Curious to see if his guess on the new chirp-barking sound was right, he loosened his grip on her hands. Her stance faltered again, and she barked out, the man smiling to himself. "Distress." He huffed a laugh at the discovery and nodded. "You never cease to amaze me, Pet."


It was yet another long and hot day as cold air rushed over a sweaty and exhausted Muldoon. In his hand was a car seat that held the nine-month-old Pet, playfully hitting a rattling toy fastened to the handle of the seat. He set the seat down in front of the TV and turned on an educational show teaching basic shapes and colors for the baby to be entertained by. From what an employee in the zoo gift shop told him, starting children off on such videos at an early age helped them learn faster.

He didn't know if it was true or not seeing how the child was still so young and not like the average human child for her age. He sighed as he undid the straps on the seat to allow the baby free movement around the living room in the medium-sized trailer. "Stay put and watch TV."

The game warden then made his way to where the bathroom was and started the shower. The baby looked at him and then back to the TV, her raptor-like eyes scanning the movements on the screen.

Fifteen minutes later, a cleaned up Muldoon emerged from the bathroom to find the baby, not in front of the TV. This was not surprising. He then heard the scratching sound of little claws on the kitchen tile, and he cursed himself for forgetting to put up the baby gate. There, covered and sitting in a pile of flour was the infant hybrid. Her wide animalistic eyes stared up at him, and she squealed in laughter. She tossed up tiny fists full of flour into the air and kicked her legs about on the floor. The man carefully picked up the flour bag so as not to spill more and put it back in the cabinet. Except this time, higher than it had been.

Muldoon knelt down closer to the baby. "Damn it Pet." The baby gave a playful shriek like coo as he picked her up and carried her towards the bathroom. Still clothed, he set her in the damp tub and left. A few minutes later he came back with clean baby clothes and to find the hybrid standing up and reaching for the bar of soap. "Like hell you do." He sat her back down and started to remove the lavender shirt from the squirming baby as he cursed at himself. "Now that we're both covered in flour, you little pain in the-" The baby started throwing her arms around and laughed. "Will you hold still?"

Again, the baby squealed with joy and tried to crawl away, but Muldoon grabbed her and sat her back upright. When she was completely undressed, and the water started, the man grabbed a clean wash rag. As he tried to wash off the flour, she kept trying to snatch the cloth away. Occasionally, her claws would get stuck in the washrag.

She splashed, causing water to hit Muldoon in the face. "We've had this discussion! No splashing!" The baby kicked her legs and slapped the water, which frustrated the man. "You're worse than trying to wash a chimp!" He poured baby soap into his hands and started to wash the infant as she tried to grab at the bubbles forming on his hands. She squealed again in fun. About that time, the baby saw the washrag float by, and she grabbed it, splashing once more. "You're bloody hopeless, Pet." He gave up trying to fight not getting wet as he washed off the soap suds off the infant.

Once she was clean, he stood up to retrieve a fresh towel from the bathroom closet as the splashing subsided. When Muldoon looked back at the baby, she had the rag over her head only to pull it down and kick her small, clawed feet. Again, she put it over her head just to do the same thing by removing it and splashing. Finding the moment cute, Muldoon sat on the edge of the tub to watch the hybrid baby play, her looking up at him and smiling.

He watched her put it back overhead only to pull it back down. The man chuckled, "Peek a boo."

The baby erupted in a fit of laughs and shrieks and put the rag back over her head again. When he pulled it down, the baby laughed once more. He continued to sit there for several minutes and play with the light of his life. He then wondered what would things be like now if he would have killed her like he was ordered to do.