Gabriel's Sacrifice (The Scrapman Trilogy Book 2) (11 page)

With his rifle at the ready, the hunter kept Coda beneath the scrutiny of his binoculars. The boy was weaving his way down the street, nearing the man’s fallen body on Cider. Coda stepped over the corpse, shaking the spray can vigorously, and then began to assemble the sentence he’d been instructed.

Rick and Jackson were there, as well, offering further cover for Coda as he kept his back to them, applying graffiti to the building wall. Once complete, Coda turned, stepping over the dead man again, and started his walk back with Rick and Jackson at his side. The hunter watched their lips as they engaged in conversation: Rick, with his huge smile; Jackson, commencing in the gum-flapping at the moment; and Coda, his face firm and focused. Like the hunter, Coda was not fond of gloating.

The hunter, scanning Cider through his binoculars, shifted atop the corpse once again, then along the writing on the wall above him. By trick of the morning’s sun, off the gleam of his lenses, the obsidian words seemed to ripple across the reddish brick. The hunter blinked the illusion away, focusing instead on the stream of blood running the length of the sidewalk.

But there, beneath the addition of Coda’s writing, the corpse had vanished.

Tearing the binoculars away, the hunter surveyed the street with naked eyes; but still no body lingered beyond his approaching men. “Hey!” the hunter shouted, shoving his index finger out in their direction. “The body!”

The three of them turned, the hunter hearing a raucous expletive off the lips of Rick. Snatching up the rifle, the hunter descended into the department store and traded it for his .45. He then ripped through the entrance in the wake of his men. The sun was bright that morning, but what trick could it have played that the hunter would have missed the body’s departure?

It made no sense.

But there was a story awaiting him, just as legible as Coda’s handwriting to those who knew how to decipher it.

“What happened?!” Jackson was shouting.

“What did you see?!” Rick was spinning, his pistol extended in no particular direction.

“Move!” The hunter shoved them out of his path. He could follow the blood to where the man collapsed. It had pooled there beneath him, the clues of his disappearance present within it.

“What do you see?” Coda asked.

The hunter knew what he saw; but what should have shed light on the situation only added another element of mystery.

“What do you see?” Coda repeated.

But admitting what he saw, to them and to himself, might loosen the foundation of his leadership, which was largely based on how those beneath him perceived the stability of his sanity.

In short, they might contend him to be off his rocker.

“What I see, Coda,” the hunter began, placing his palm upon the wall. “What I see … doesn’t make any sense.”

The three men stood over him, faces blank, waiting for the hunter to continue.

“Well, he didn’t just get up and walk away,” he said, frustrated. “You see this?” The hunter pointed at a scrape made in the crimson puddle. “This mark was made by the tip of his boot … when he was lifted … and dragged.”

“Lifted and dragged?” Coda’s brow crumpled.

“What the
fuck
are you talkin’ about, Maddox?” Rick slid an aggravated hand across his face. “Dragged where?”

The hunter didn’t want to answer; it was the least rational part.

He pointed again to the ground, to a row of blood drops lining the sidewalk. “These drops were from the man’s neck, they run parallel to the boot mark.” He ran his finger into the wall. “They end here.”

“So what?” Rick huffed. “You’re saying he was dragged through the fucking wall?”

The hunter stood, matching eyes with the man who occasionally spoke in a manner that made him want to knock his teeth out. “Yes.” The hunter jabbed Rick hard in the chest. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

G
abriel returned that night, as promised. With him, he’d brought a small, black, metallic container. Mohammad took a seat at his former breakfast area, awaiting Gabriel’s promised presentation.

“It took me over a year to bring you back successfully, Mohammad.” The Traveler lumbered forward, fixing the Fijian within his blackened opticals. “Over a great many trial and errors, I might add.” From his wrist device, Gabriel sprawled a series of holographic galaxies above them; they rotated gently, their softened spirals forming tiny, glowing red orbs toward the outer rims of each system. There must have been thousands of them.

Gabriel lifted his finger to a spinning galaxy. It expanded, enlarging enough so he could choose a single orb to pluck from the system. “As Travelers, we’ve scoured the universe in search of life. It is not as rare an occurrence as you might believe.”

The image of an animal took shape before Mohammad. The thing’s arms were long, its body sleek and covered in bluish hair. It stood slouched, similar to an ape; but its face looked almost reptilian–shiny scales making up its nose and mouth, a silvery tongue sliding out from between its lips. The thing rotated its head slightly, as if regarding Mohammad in turn.

“So we study, we collect, and we create where worlds permit. But I have done what no Traveler has done before.”

The image faded away, replaced instead by a new creature. This one was an aquatic-looking animal, reminiscent of a shark, complete with gills, fins and glistening, gray skin.

“I have created you, Mohammad. You possess the qualities of several hundred interstellar species, combined into one, the best physical characteristics throughout the universe.”

Another creature then came into focus, its glossy, black coat reminding Mohammad a bit of a panther, only with an extra set of legs.

“You have bones that bend, but will not break; wield the strength and speed of an animal whose planet is far larger than Earth; have the nocturnal eyes of a creature several billion light years away, and your healing … the very thing that made it all possible.”

“My healing?” Mohammad asked.

The panther-like image gave way to another, this one looking more like magnified bacteria, an accumulation of several organic, cylindrical shapes. “Much like a cancer, this symbiote replicates within your body until it inhabits every cell. It thrives on your well-being, keeping you healthy, free of disease, infection, and injury. And without it, your assemblage of genes would simply fall apart.” Gabriel stuck a long, pale finger out at the Fijian. “A great war was fought over this symbiote, Mohammad. You must realize that it is an honor.”

Mohammad nodded.

“I only refer to you as Mohammad because that is who you believed yourself to be. The truth is, that man is dead and will remain that way. I have given you his memories and appearance, but you are not him. Do you understand?”

He nodded again, although it hadn’t exactly sunken in quite yet.

“Do you wish for a new name, then?”

Did he? He couldn’t imagine answering to anything else. He shook his head.

“Very well.” The Traveler turned again to the hologram, changing the subject with an extended hand. “In no way does this symbiote make you bullet-proof,” he added. “It cannot save you from everything.”

Gabriel placed the metallic container on the floor, pressing its side, the top of it folding open as Mohammad leaned forward to see. Within the small box, curled up and sleeping, he discovered a tiny, orange kitten. The Traveler reached inside, pinched it by the scruff of its neck and extracted it. Placing the kitten in the palm of his huge hand, he continued, “This is the third life-form I’ve created here, you being the second. She’s a clone of the dead feline you acquired for me, injected, too, with the symbiote.”

“Why does she need the symbiote?”

“Not only will it protect her from disease, but she needed it in order to survive the implant process.” The Traveler stroked her back with the tip of his finger. “If you are my hand, Mohammad, then she will be my eyes and ears.” The kitten twisted, placing her paws atop the Traveler’s finger. “She is a gift.”

“I’m flattered.”

“She’s not for you, Mohammad.” The Traveler smiled. “I would like you to deliver her for me, however.”

Mohammad nodded, unsure of what that might entail.

“It is time you become accustomed to our mode of travel.” Gabriel motioned toward the wall. “Space and time are a fabric. They can be folded. I’ve installed a door here for you. The location has already been programmed.” Gabriel handed Mohammad the kitten, its soft warmth within the palms of his hands. “All you need to do is walk through, and place her on the ground.”

“Where am I going?”

“It is outside the city. You will be safe.”

Mohammad approached the wall, anxiety tickling at his insides as he pressed his hand to it and watched his fingers disappear. It left no sensation on his skin, as if it were nothing.

“Hang in there,” he whispered to the kitten, and stepped through. Night awaited him on the other side, its darkening sky stretching out above him. He found himself surrounded by flattened wasteland, standing within the fenced area of a junkyard. Reminding him a bit of the shipping area, it was another scattered assembly of forgotten equipment.

In no way did it look like the ideal place to abandon a kitten, but he was under Traveler orders. Mohammad knelt, giving her a gentle pat on the head as he set her down. “I guess this is your home now,” he whispered. “It’s really not too different than where you came from though, is it?”

Leaving the cloned feline behind, Mohammad stepped through the fence and back into the factory, finding Gabriel still standing before him. “I don’t think I’ll ever be getting used to that.” He shook his head.

The Traveler only smiled. “You will.”

“Why send the cat there?” Mohammad looked up at him. “What’s so important about a junkyard?”

“Everything, Mohammad.” Gabriel leaned forward. “When we start picking up the feline’s feed, you will see.” The Traveler turned, extending his arm. “Which brings me to the next task at hand.”

Behind him was a long, black, metallic container, much like the one that housed the kitten, only this one large enough to fit a man. Ominous, it reminded Mohammad something of a dark coffin.

His reflection glistened across it as he approached, the first time he’d seen himself as … whatever it was that he was. And he couldn’t tell a difference, relieved to look exactly like the man he’d been conjured to replace. So well, in fact, that he couldn’t yet differentiate himself from the man whose memories he shared. Surely he’d forever think of himself as that man, and yet live to avenge him.

“You might notice I am unlike the Travelers that came here before.”

“I’ve noticed, yes.”

Gabriel created a hologram of one of those Travelers. It came to stand beside him, tall and lanky within its globed-headed suit. “They are called Ramalah,” he revealed, “and they conduct change in a peaceful manner. I was sent here to aid them … although I work more in secret, more discreet.”

The Ramalah hologram disappeared, replaced by that of a female hybrid, her black hair upon her reddish shoulders as she turned to look back at him.

“The Ramalah design is now extinct; however, I am in the process of reintroduction.” The female hybrid slipped from view, and in stepped a new creature. Mohammad blinked, curious.

He was looking at himself.

“You carry the genes, Mohammad. You are a vessel of the Ramalah design … and although none will be made with your advancements, you are still the first of many.”

Mohammad stared at himself. “I don’t understand.”

“You are a seed, Mohammad, a highly protected and camouflaged seed of evolution.” Gabriel placed his large hand on the Fijian’s shoulder. “Were you to have a child, it would be hybrid. But all of your advancements will end with you; they are not traits you can pass on; the fate of the symbiote will be the same, as well.”

Gabriel pressed the side of the large container and it opened, revealing a body within. It was a tall man, blood drenching his front, a hole carving a cylinder into his neck. He was very much deceased. “So you will assist me, Mohammad, in bringing back the dead, in creating more like you.” He then held something out to the Fijian. “But first we need to extract his memories.”

Similar to the device the Traveler was wearing, Mohammad slipped his fingers within it. The device flexed with his movements, articulating with little effort, becoming more like a part of him than a donned apparatus. There were several buttons aligning it at the wrist, along with a vile of silvery liquid protruding beside them. Mohammad, device on hand, rounded the corpse.

“Now place your hand aside his head.”

The Fijian extended his fingers, pressing them to the dead man’s cold, damp scalp.

“Good.”

A small light atop his wrist began to throb in hues of blue.

Downloading.

“He will not remember his death,” Gabriel added, wrapping his long fingers over the edge of the container. “He will return to his life, oblivious, a clone of this man and a bearer of the hybrid design.”

“Not to challenge your plans, Gabriel,” Mohammad started, “but their children, they will only be infants. Who will protect them?”

“Don’t underestimate a mother’s bond with her child.” The Traveler grinned. “And they will have you, Mohammad.”

The light then stopped its blinking, the man’s memories absorbed.

“We no longer have use for his body,” Gabriel said. “His DNA and memories are ready for replication.”

The black container then sealed itself, lifted off the ground, and made its way back toward the wall.

The hyper-wall
.

It disappeared into it, swallowed by solid concrete, an act Mohammad was forcing himself to register as actual reality.

Gabriel followed the floating coffin, stopping before entering the portal. “I’ll leave you with the glove. Learn its uses … and never use that rope again.”

Following Gabriel’s departure, Mohammad pressed his palm to the wall. It had fallen solid again. But the glove reacted, spilling an emerald hologram before him. Mohammad, startled, stumbled backward before realizing what it was–a map of the entire city, parts of which detailed in swift strokes of crimson.