De Novo (The Gene Thief Series Book 1 - Short Story) (2 page)

She went to a deserted mailbox on the outskirts of town, opened the rusted door, and pulled out a box. Inside was her supplies for the mission; plane tickets, and anything else she would need. Every single thing had been accounted for.

With the box under her arm and backpack strapped on, she was ready to go. She hopped on the first bus and headed for her destination. Once the bus arrived, she walked three miles west to a small, deserted airport to board the plane.

The worst part was the last half-mile. The dense brush grew back relentlessly, whether hacked away with a machete or not. As she reached the end, she saw the sleek black private plane waiting for her. The pilot stood there, waiting in his usual suit, oversized headphones, and dark black Ray bans.

He smirked and nodded. She always wondered about him, what his name was, what he used to do before this, but she never got a word out of him. He never asked how she was, or anything personal, and never gave her any information about her life before all this. He was a stone wall every time. The only two things they had in common were the plane and the people they worked for.

The first time they met, she went to introduce herself, and as she opened her mouth to say, “Hi, I’m…” she drew a blank. At that moment, she realized she no longer remembered her name. Her identity escaped her, and she never found it afterwards. She was just a girl trapped inside a body, with missions to carry out and a set of skills that she had no idea how she acquired.

“Have a safe trip.” She smiled, handed him her tickets and boarded the plane. She walked straight back and took her seat by the window.

If nothing else, she had to admit, he was a badass pilot. No turbulence taking off or landing, she could barely tell when they left the ground. She looked outside and watched the terrain change from forests, to bodies of water, to thicker and denser forests. She was starting to vaguely recognize where she was, looking down on the layer of massive green leaves with bright colors poking through from underneath. They had reached the rain forest.

She nodded to the pilot on her way out and said, “Good work, I’ll see you soon.”

She grabbed her things and walked. This was the part where she had to rely strictly on instinct. There was no hotel waiting for her, no taxi, no nothing. This was the moment where she flipped her switch and went invisible. Falling off the face of the earth, no longer existing, she was just a moving shadow that people questioned ever seeing.

Once the plane was out of sight, she opened up the box of goods and pulled out the map that was provided. Thinking back, she remembered the first time she received one of these maps. She was enamored by it. It unfolded like a piece of paper, but it was a regular glass screen to a digital map with an interactive touch screen and a self-detonating feature to boot. She thought she may be able to keep them as evidence to try and discover where she was from or who she was. However once the gene was delivered, they disintegrated into nothing. Scary at first, then interesting, and finally frustrating. It was a reminder of how much effort the people behind the scenes put into hiding everything from her. No traceable piece of evidence anywhere.

She saw the blinking X on the map, and the various types of terrain she would have to endure. The forecast was rain, followed up by more rain. Great. Just what she always hated most. She pulled her hood up over her head, tucked all the items from the box into her backpack, and threw it to the side.

Let’s do this.

She knew if there was any job she wanted to get over with, this was it. The rainforest was more enjoyable in magazines and on TV than in person. Without a native guide and proper raingear, it was easy to tell that this was going to be miserable.

Let’s just hope this person of interest doesn’t try any gimmicks and make things more difficult than they need to be.

It was long walks like these that proved to be the most dangerous. So much time to question where she was from, how she got here, how she got so good at stealing and copying genes. She must’ve had some sort of childhood and parents. The only thing she had was a vague feeling inside that she was given up at a young age. The other memories in her head tended to fade in and out, and more often than not, they haunted more than helped. Images flashed into her mind’s eye of a little girl withering away in a bed. She can’t make out any details of who’s around, what the house looked like, just the debilitated child. Tons of cords and cables, IVs and ventilators, and none of it seemed to be helping. The memory alone induced a sort of knot in her stomach. The memory left nothing but a feeling of angst and hopelessness inside. Every time she conjured up these thoughts, she could feel the tears swell up, and her brain would go haywire.

She looked down at her map. She was just a couple miles away from the destination. By now she should be seeing some signs of civilization or humanity, but there was nothing. No worn down paths, no marked trees, nothing. Not a sight, not a sound, and not a soul around. She was beginning to wonder if they got the location right. Never before had the map been wrong, but there’s a first for everything.

Eventually she was only a quarter mile away. She pulled her hood down, and felt the rain crash down on her head. Each droplet was cold but refreshing.

She started to walk gently, avoiding any leaves or fallen branches, her feet so nimble she didn’t make a sound. Not even nearby animals detected her. She made it another fifty feet towards her target and still nothing. The background noise was beginning to grow, but nothing she could decipher. Nothing recognizable or human sounding. She was so frustrated. She finally looked up at the sky and let the rain wash her face. The cool water helping her keep her composure.

As she looked, it was evident that the map was correct. There was a massive network of vines and man-made bridges. These indigenous people had made their homes in the canopy. She could see off into the distance that little figures were moving about high up in the trees. Just the sight of seeing them walk around so nonchalantly at heights that were clearly fatal made her queasy. Her legs shook at the thought of having to complete a mission one hundred feet in the air.

This would take some warming up to. She went to a nearby tree that would shield her from view, started to get her vials and camera ready, and began scouting out the people.

Soaking wet, and impatient, Kira was ready to get this over with. One way or another. She took pride in her ability not to cause any pain during the extraction process, but once in a while she needed to stretch her capabilities a little bit. Experiment with new chemistry, or new techniques. This was her craft, her art, her passion, and no one else on this planet could do it like she could.

“Okay Cindy, let’s put on our best looks and try to be strong for this. I know it’s gonna suck, but it’s better than the alternatives.” Marcus was talking to the top of Cindy’s head as she rested her face in her palms. They couldn’t bear to look at each other since they first heard the bad news from Dr. Morris. The relationship was constantly strained from that point forward and the future held little promise.

“I will. I’ll do my best.” Her voice was cracking from all the crying and sobbing. They were both crushed from the news. Their worlds shattered into pieces, and the unsure journey that lay ahead was just as terrifying.

“That’s all we can do.” Marcus had so much to say, so many questions, and he longed for assurances. Unfortunately, this was the typical conversation for the last 24 hours. Hollow words and short sentences. Cindy didn’t have the energy to keep herself together, let alone try and support him.

He put his hand on her back and started massaging her. As soon as he touched her, he felt her chest rise as she sniffed her nose and tears flowed.

Marcus knew that this therapy was probably going to suck, but they needed to be strong as a couple. Not only for themselves, but for their baby. After hearing the laundry list of symptoms Marcus couldn’t help but wonder if terminating the pregnancy was the best option for everyone. He had heard of couples breaking up, people losing their minds, losing their sense of self. He knew they were strong, but wasn’t sure if they could handle something as trying as this. He also know he could never propose the idea without Cindy unleashing hell on him.

The gestational genome screening was designed to confirm a baby was healthy, and if not, it could tip off the doctors to what treatments would be useful. Marcus and Cindy almost wished such a diagnostic never existed. Any time before the first trimester and the DNA fragments were too small to sequence and amplify properly. At this point she already had a belly bump, and she had grown too attached.

“Marcus and Cindy?” A man in a white lab coat had stepped through the door and poked his head around.

Marcus stood up quickly and waved to the doctor. He then looked down at Cindy who was much less enthused. He put his hand under her arm and helped her to her feet. Wrapping his arm around her, they gently made their way over to the doctor.

“Glad you both could make it. Come on in and have a seat.” His voice was charming, He was energetic, but not overly so. Marcus was relieved and could see himself warming up to a guy like this, Cindy remained outwardly apprehensive.

They sat down on large suede sofas. Marcus began to wonder what other kind of couples sat in these exact same chairs. What sort of situations they were facing, what traumas and tragedies they were trying to overcome and deal with. In just the blink of an eye, they had instantly morphed into one of those couples. Not in a million years would he have believed this was possible. An unfathomable sequence of events.

Marcus realized Cindy wasn’t going to be opening up anytime soon and chimed in. “Thanks for seeing us Dr. Morris. We appreciate you making time on such short notice. As you can imagine, we are still a little shell-shocked, but we are managing as best we can.” Marcus looked over at the doctor, now sitting behind the massive dark, oak desk. Neatly organized, a few fountain pens in a jar, a big gold nameplate at the front. The doctor was carefully observing them, Marcus felt like a test subject for a second.

“Of course, Marcus. I will never tell you guys that I understand what you’re going through, or that it’s common, or anything else. That’s bullshit.” Cindy immediately sprung up and looked at the doctor. Marcus leaked a smirk on his face. Maybe there was hope for this guy after all. He was turning out to be human and not another professional speaker in a doctor costume.

“The idea here is for you to face the demons. For you to explore your minds, and deal with the situation before it manifests into something that is uncontrollable. Not saying couples can’t survive without therapy, but I’ll tell you that having someone guide you through the grief, the anger, and all of these other volatile emotions will be immensely useful.”

Marcus looked over at Cindy, and for the first time she looked back at him. Their eyes met, and there was a calmness amongst them. Hearing this doctor’s voice, there was a strength to his words that made them feel shielded, if only for a brief time. Safe from the ugly reality that awaited them outside of this office.

Cindy’s mouth slowly opened, but words failed to come out. The doctor sat there, patiently. Not trying to fill in the blanks or suggest that he was in a rush. Marcus began to rub her back again.

Cindy, her voice feeble and raspy, said, “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for not sugarcoating or downplaying it. After hearing about the symptoms, the side effects, the chemistry lab of drugs that are suggested, and everything else, you can imagine that my mind is mush. My heart is bleeding. My life is just so fuc…” She cut herself off, and looked down at her shaking hands.

Marcus stared at her. Hearing her speak like this, the fragility of her voice, the weight of her words, hit him like a ton of bricks. The dams had broken, and the tears began to stream down his face.

The situation seemed hopeless. On top of it all, Marcus was beginning to realize that he had just blown his secret retirement fund. It had taken them years to accrue that sort of money, with hopes of surprising Cindy with a dream vacation, maybe a down payment on a villa in Italy, who knows. Instead, he threw it away on a goddamn sticky note attached to a folder. For all he knew, it was some shady doctor or nurse taking advantage of patients at times of weakness.

In hindsight, it was almost hard to believe it happened. Like a bad dream he couldn’t shake, the remnants forming into permanent memories. He knew it was real though because he had checked the balance in the account one hundred times since the transfer. The pennies leftover were salt in the wound.

The wound of a having a sick child was wide open, blood was gushing, and the feeling of being taken advantage at a vulnerable moment was exacerbating it all.

He blinked a few times and realized they were continuing the conversation. Cindy was still talking to the doctor and vice versa. He had zoned out, and he realized he couldn’t afford to do that or she would start getting suspicious.

“What do you think about that Marcus?”

“Sorry, I missed it. I’m feeling drained, and it’s so hard to go over everything, again and again.”

Cindy smiled and melted him inside. She said, “It’s okay babe. I think introducing ourselves and breaking the ice was enough for one day. Dr. Wilson seems like he’s going to be a huge help, so let’s come back tomorrow.”

Marcus could barely think, let alone speak after seeing Cindy’s face. He thought it would be weeks before she smiled again.

He nodded and stood up smiling at the doctor. They shook hands, and he put his arm around Cindy as they walked out. As they shut the door behind them, he whispered into her ear, “I love you.”

She smiled again, went on her tip toes, and kissed him on the cheek.