#took me just under a month to bang out too which is unprecedented for me

[autoneurotic]

do you like hot older women. do you have a medical kink. how do you feel about codependent, unhealthy relationships. check it out.

[waldos-writing]

The Dig Initiative: Chapter 31

The Misadventures of Drednov and Poole

Everybody heard about the rumor from Altamira. Some guy broke in and took down all the guards. Took down some of the guards. Took down two guards and crapped on their corpses, because he was that kind of sick freak apparently. Shot them in the head, just for the hell of it or maybe burned them alive or probably just gassed the room and stabbed them really quick before they could wake up. Jason Bourned his way through. James Bond it. Ninja style. Cowboy style. Psycho killer style. And then took off with one of the patients! His girlfriend. His wife. His sister, maybe. His daughter?

Nobody had the details. So everybody made something up.

“Do you really believe all of this?” Agent Drednov asked.

They had parked their car in an empty Target parking lot. Curfew was supposed to end soon, and the streets would fill with pedestrians, commuters, regular folk. Drednov put her vido sensor on the dash, lifting a screen over the windshield so that they could watch the big domestic division conference. All she had to do was wave her hand over the sensor and it communicated to the windshield to go opaque. Little gadgets like that really made the car a luxury item. Maybe she hated driving it, but god was it fancy.

“Like, it was just one guy? That can’t be right.”

“I could not guess,” Agent Poole answered. He leaned a little on the armrest between them, holding his chin with his fingertips. “It’s idle gossip. I’ll wait for the facts.”

“Oh, well, sure, the facts,” said Drednov.

She was leaning in too, almost touching him shoulder to shoulder. There was a meniscus of heat between them, an almost-intimacy. They had been moving closer and closer to each other every day and Drednov wasn’t sure if she was the one pulling him in, or the other way around. She just knew that it thrilled her.

The blue waiting screen flashed onto a podium that had the Locke Security logo stamped onto it. The room, which seated 180, was packed. The rest of the field were on their patrols or at home, signing on. It was the first time they had all gathered like this and even if it wasn’t in person, it felt significant. Huge. Drednov could only guess how many agents there were under domestic division. And if she doubled it to accommodate international, it really hit her how big the company was.

A man came up to the podium, sleek blonde hair, tight suit, and sharp eyes. Handsome guy. Only a couple of people really knew what Mr. DuVang looked like, met him in person and so on. But they all knew, when he got up there, that it was really him. Really really him! It felt almost magical that he was there talking to all of them. Like listening to the president or something. Like the Pope, even.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, his voice smooth and light, not as deep as she expected, but commanding. “I understand this is unprecedented, but we have a great need to band together and I wanted to be the one to share it with you.

“First, I want to say how proud I am of this company. I know that it started small under Oliver Locke and current Senator Wells; the two who would go on to work together to pass the legislature we know today as the Lockewell Laws. These laws, while stringent, have prevented overpopulation, have prevented disease outbreaks, have prevented starvation and general crime. Many of you here were with the company when we transitioned into the Black Jacket program, building one of the best security firms in the nation. You are the future. You are an amazing breakthrough in science. You are, for lack of a better term, miracles. And I want you to rejoice that.  The people here are the backbone of what Locke Security is and what it will be in the future. It is with strength, determination, and community that we will extend our reach and shape the world. Protect and heal. Bring about the next change for a brighter tomorrow. And I could not be more proud of all of you.”

There was a brief applause. Drednov draped a hand on the armrest. It was just enough that her finger brushed against Poole’s. He did not draw his hand back and Drednov was certain he would feel her heartbeat going crazy just in the side of her pinky alone. He didn’t, though. He was enthralled by Mr. DuVang.

“Thank you. Now, secondly, there is an initiative we have been working towards here in Locke Security. Some of your superiors know about this, as indirectly as we might call it, CleanAire project, or Locke and Key protocol, or, rightly, the Dig Initiative. I want to set the record straight before this comes out in the wrong light and we spread fear to the public. NARA has a cure.”

Silence. People in the audience shifted, looked around, wondering briefly what the repercussions of a cure to the thing that gave them their abilities would mean. Some of them started muttering.

“Cured?” Poole snarled, sitting back for the first time. There was a big divide between them again. “Why does it need a cure?”

“For the percent of people who, you know, die from it?” Drednov offered.

“They think they need to cure us? They think—”

Mr. DuVang raised his hands, and they all went quiet again.

“Yes. Yes, there’s a cure. I hear your concerns, but let me set your mind at ease. Public opinion of the virus is shaped only by the largely fatal qualities. If we spread it now throughout the state, ninety-percent of the United States would be dead within the month. I know the benefits. You know the benefits. And we. Are. The lucky. Few.” Mr. DuVang banged his hand against the podium in time with his last statement. “People, we can change that twenty percent. We can help them step up to that threshold and cross over like all of you here have done. In fact, it is our duty to do so. There untapped potential is lying dormant right now, and it is a waste to what we can do as human beings!”

Mr. DuVang paused again, leaning on his forearms, staring out at the crowd. He brushed some strands of hair off his forehead and tongued his bottom lip.

“Holy cow,” said Drednov, almost with a laugh. “He’s crazy!”

“Shh,” Poole answered curtly. She was about to protest and he grabbed her bicep and shushed her again. Her first reaction was to lean into him, fall into it, but she jerked her arm free.

“Now, to assuage some of your fears, no. This will not affect you. This will not change who you are, or rob you of anything but your time and cooperation. Your loved ones, your neighbors, your friends are our number one concern. We are preventing a pandemic that would wipe out the human race. We are standing on the edge of the tide of tomorrow and we are coming out of this heroes. You are coming out of this heroes. You are heroes.

“So, this is what I ask of you, as head of Locke Security. The Dig Initiative is set to launch at the end of this month. With the recent outbreaks of NARA virus in the public, it is imperative that we get ahead of this thing now. We are releasing the cure to market with the help of financial aid from CleanAire owner Mr. Rick Samspon. You might wonder why a security firm has its hand on such a product, but you are the results of all that research, all that study, hardship, toil. Sacrifice. With the help of the Altamira Research facility under Barrenson Medical, the owners of the Sanctuary hospitals, we have created you.” Mr. DuVang pointed at someone in the audience, and then another. “And you.” He pointed a third time, towards the feed, and said, “And you. Locke Security stands here today because of the science of Barrenson Medical and Montemille research and Altamira. And it stands here today because of you.”

Mr. DuVang started applauding. It was quickly picked up by the crowd, dragging on as he smiled at everyone. Drednov could guess that he had an influential talent, perhaps manipulating the room. She felt disturbed by his words about “better tomorrow” and “miracles” and “shaping the world.” Sounded dangerously like a cult. But Poole was eating it up. He almost clapped too, settling back into his seat with a satisfactory smile.

The audience died down again, hushed slowly until Mr. DuVang could be heard. He nodded at them, thanked them. Even laughed.

“Now, there is a threat against our company, and this is the real reason why I have called this conference. I have confirmed this with the mayor, governor, and senator of Vermont, as well as the local police and highway patrol. We have the necessity of moving into a twenty-four hour curfew around this city starting Monday. This gives the public enough time to prepare their households for the shutdown. Notices have been sent out, public will be made aware, of course. We believe that there is a group who plan to attack our headquarters. I will not dally with the details of the Altamira incident, but the fact remains that there is a threat and we are ready to respond to it. Your supervisors will be giving new rotations to ensure this city is safe while we work on weeding this threat out. I will not be running from this. Safety is my number one concern. We have assigned twenty new White Jackets to each team. I will not let someone terrorize this company, my people, or our delivery of a cure to the population. We will not be threatened. And we will not take this sitting down!”

More applause. Drednov couldn’t believe they were going to lock the city down completely like that. She held her forehead, letting it sink in, as Poole pumped a fist into the air and belted out his approval.

“We are the future! We are the future! Thank you!” Mr. DuVang was yelling over the crowd, laughing wildly with them. “Honor in thought! Honor in deed!”

The crowd yelled back “Honor in thought honor in deed honor in thought honor in deed honor in thought honor in deed” and Poole cheered, repeating, “Honor in thought. Honor in deed.” Drednov closed the feed and it shifted over to her inbox, blinking a message from their supervisor. She’d read that later.

“I can’t believe they’re finally going through with it,” Poole said, sighing contently. “We’re really going to see a change.”

“He said twenty-four hour lockdown,” said Drednov, gesturing bitterly towards the sensor bar. “He’s putting us in a headlock.”

“No, this is good. This is good.” Poole wasn’t looking at her, maybe through her, to some glittery pastoral scenery of a perfect tomorrow. She never saw him smile so openly, it almost scared her. “They’re really doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“The CleanAire towers. They’re going to release NARA through the towers.”

“What? He just said they’re releasing a cure.”

“No,” Poole said. He laughed and it was low, deep in his chest, while he shook his head a little. “No, that’s what he’s telling us because he has to, because he can’t trust everyone. But I know for a fact they’re going to release it through the towers. I saw intel on it. You know what this means? They’re not curing anything. They’re cleansing. Finally, finally, they’re pushing us into a new world.”

“Cleansing, holy—”

Drednov pressed her body back as Poole reached across the center console and grabbed the nape of her neck. She didn’t have time to turn away, her head buzzing with surprise, before he pulled her to him and kissed her hard. It was selfish, mindless mashing of his lips on hers and she struggled to turn her head away or catch her breath. This is what she wanted. It was. She grappled to get her fingers under his and pry her neck loose as his mouth dug into hers, his tongue jabbing at hers. This is what she wanted. His fingers hurt when they dug into her skin. This is what she wanted. She couldn’t breathe around him.

Another hand snaked to the back of her head. He was straddling a knee on the armrest, perched over her, holding her as his mouth smacked open and his tongue darted for her, almost choking her. His breath was hot and sour in her mouth, curdling something in the back of her throat. Not this, not this at all.  He was so big, his hands like vices on her head, leaning down so that she was pinned. Drednov clenched her mouth shut to get away from his slimy tongue and screamed behind her teeth, fumbling for anything, pushing against his chest, but he just took her hand and squeezed it, trapped it.

“It’ll be perfect,” he muttered against her, sliding his tongue down her neck. “It’ll be perfect for us. It’ll be perfect and pure, just like you wanted.”

“Please.” It came out strangled. Almost a sob. Too quiet though. Too quiet. Her stomach boiled and a nerve jolted up the center of her body. “Please,” she tried again, harder, but it fell on deft ears.

Drednov closed her eyes as Agent Poole shoved his hands up her blouse, her head thumping back against the car door. She tried to pull herself in, get away from it so she didn’t experience it, but when he raked his fingers down her stomach she felt her whole body tremble and go cold. Before he reached the edge of her pants she sucked in what little air she could find and exploded out.

Poole was knocked back to the other side of the car. He cracked his skull against the glass, shattering it in tiny spider web fragments, a broken halo with a small spot of blood branching out from the center. When he shifted, Drednov pushed out again, pinned him there, squeezing down on his throat while her hands fumbled for the door latch. When it opened, she spilled out of the car backwards, landed hard, but rolled to her knees and sprang up.

“Val!” Agent Poole shouted inside the car, his voice hoarse. He coughed and then said, “Wait!”

She pushed with every last ounce she had, shoving with all her mental weight, and tossed the car off the sidewalk. It rolled, spinning madly through the air before it crashed into a light post. The metal frame of the car bent around the pole, front bumper meeting with the back end so it looked like a “u” shape. Sparks shot up into the air in an angry display against the scream of metal and bone inside. Something burst and steam shot out in a wild whistle, a big smoker’s puff of air, almost like a giant tea kettle. Drednov didn’t want to see if Poole was going to get out. She curled whatever pieces she could find sticking off the car back around the pole, wrapping each piece like she was tying knots and ignored any sound that came from inside. It was exhausting, and once it was knotted up, she almost fell. Almost collapsed. But no time. No time. She took off down the street, legs pumping hard, shirt torn to reveal her pale stomach, lungs screaming. She thought about home, about her brother, about the edge of the city. She thought about bright clothes and blankets, get free, get free, get free. Poole’s mangled body groping for air between the bloody seats. But not that. Not that. It didn’t matter where she went, just that she got there. When she was gone, then she’d cry properly.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter