JAKE & JACOB
Tim Riley
Published by Tim Riley at Smashwords
All rights reserved
Copyright© 2011 by Tim Riley
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher
Chapter 1
It had not been a violent war over political ideology.
The biblical ‘end of days’ had not played out in a storm of fire and brimstone.
Mother Nature hadn’t conjured a massive natural disaster.
No alien invasion had sprung from above a cornfield in Iowa.
In the end- and at the beginning- it was human curiosity that destroyed the world.
Only a few people knew the exact details of what happened, because only a few people understood the complex experiments in the first place. And with over six billion deaths worldwide, it wasn’t entirely surprising that few of those few had survived.
Most people knew- or at least speculated- that it had something to do with C.E.R.N., a nuclear research laboratory in Europe.
C.E.R.N. had been using the worlds’ largest Hadron Collider to delve further into the greatest of great mysteries. The creation of the universe.
There was something about accelerating protons at incredible speeds. Something about matter and anti-matter.
Something about a God particle.
Those concerned about tinkering with such powerful cosmic puzzles had sounded a warning. An attempt to convey the disastrous potential of the experiments. There had even been a few sparsely attended rallies with picket signs and rhythmic chants. But in the end- and at the beginning, the message had been mostly lost. Tangled amid religious rhetoric and lack of mathematical proof.
So the experiment moved forward.
And the experiment had gone horribly wrong.
A black hole was the most easily understood reference- the best way to explain the cataclysmic phenomenon to the layperson. But it wasn’t exactly accurate. What the collider had actually created was not a black hole- but a rift in the universe itself. A fissure. An opening in the thin barrier that separated one universe from another to another to another.
The planet earth was pulled violently into that rift- passing directly through several of those universes. In the blink of an eye, the great rock was jolted and jarred, squeezed and stretched, spun and stilled, before settling back down in another space and time.
The civilizations, of course, had been devastated.
The current inhabitants of the planet suffered countless deaths and untold personal tragedies. But the earth itself- the actual sphere of iron, nickel, and silicon- was more or less… unfazed.
Spinning aimlessly on as if nothing had happened at all.
Chapter 2
There was a time when this particular place was called Philadelphia- and not so very long ago. But few people used that name anymore. There was little left to make the connection between that name and this place.
Virtually nothing remained that once helped identify it as the so called ‘City of Brotherly Love’.
Certainly not the love.
There had been the Comcast Center. The skyscraper built in the old calendar year of 2008. This granite behemoth had assumed the title of the city’s tallest upon its completion, and stood high above the sidewalks as a giant, mirrored pillar- a testament to the crushing, downhill snowball that had been American wealth.
City Hall, an architectural gem in its time, with the famous statue of William Penn affixed at the top of the central tower. Mister Penn stood there, immovable and gratified, clutching a Treaty of Friendship made with a race of people that his fledgling government would nearly exterminate some years later.
The Museum of Art, home to countless, brilliant treasures of the creative mind. Whose mountain of entry steps were forever remembered as the place a fictional movie boxer overcame adversity and found the inspiration to believe in himself.
Citizen’s Bank Park. Lincoln Financial Field. Homes of heroes.
The Moshulu Restaurant- an actual four-mast sailing ship that floated in Penn’s Landing on the Delaware River.
Just a few of the sights that had made Philadelphia so recognizable.
Those were mostly rubble now.
The Moshulu was rotting on the river bed, slowly being pulled out to the Atlantic.
Some half-buildings remained here and there, mostly four stories or less. Those places were occupied by unstable groups of unstable people who, one way or another…
…for one reason or another…
…found themselves needing to be there.
The buildings were unrecognizable shells, and some might describe the people living inside them the exact same way. Stripped of anything with the remote illusion of value, they existed, but stood virtually hollow.
The hulls of the structures served well enough as a guard against the harsh rains that came too infrequently, and as shade against the scalding sun, which came every eight hours without fail.
The inhabitants inside needed to look deeper for such practical purpose.
There were no politicians to govern within those former city borders- or to welcome visitors to the once great metropolis. No tourists taking pictures of a large copper bell with a crack in it. No fans to cheer the winning local sports team- or curse the losing one. There was virtually nothing here to remind anyone of the city it used to be.
Mostly- if the name was used at all- it was in context similar to “around where Philadelphia used to be.” Because no one could really tell where that once honored municipality started or ended anymore.
That’s how Jacob Reed had explained his travel plans to his wife. Telling her that he was going to “around where Philadelphia used to be.”
And he, like everyone else, would continue to use phrases like that- until some kind of consensus was reached to call it something else.
Maybe, eventually, they would just start calling it Philadelphia again.
When they were ready.
On his way back home now, his bags much lighter than when he was traveling in, Jacob couldn’t help but look into the open skyline and try to imagine it all the way it used to be. The way he remembered it from the old world.
There was a time when he was called Jake. ‘Jake the Break’. And not so long ago. But few people even called him by name anymore.
He rarely offered a name to strangers. There was no need. No feeling that they would ever have cause to use it again.
But if Jake did introduce himself- it had become simply, Jacob. No last name. No silly nickname. No preceding title.
Just Jacob.
When he traveled, trading cuts of meat procured from on and around his makeshift, new world farm, he was mostly called “The Meat Man”. And that suited him just fine.
Jacob didn’t look so different from those times. From ‘Jake the Break’. It was, after all, just over seven years ago that he had stopped being ‘that guy’. His handsome face was, more or less, the same as when he had been somewhat famous. When his picture would appear on the occasional SportsCenter, or in the glossy pages of Sports Illustrated. He was slightly more chiseled and weathered perhaps, but a notable square jaw and piercing, angry hazel eyes retained the familiarity. Thick, dark eyebrows and a broad, mangled nose gave him a stark, distinct appearance.
One notable difference between then and now was that, in place of wispy, thinning hair with the early touches of gray, was now a miraculously re-grown shock of thick, exploding brown locks.
The rift, as some people called it- the shift of the earth from one universe to another- had done so very much to this one planet. So much destruction. So many irreparable changes. Lives twisted inside and out and pounded into dust.
And in at least one case- it had grown a head of hair from near baldness.
There were other changes too. Much more substantial than a head of hair. ‘Surprises’ that appeared in some people after the shift. In them and all around them.
Jacob was built a bit like a real life version of a child’s action figure. What had always been a finely tuned, athletic physique had become impossibly lean and muscle hardened. A body that, on old earth, could have only been built with a steady dose of performance enhancing drugs and around the clock work in the gym- was now naturally Jacob’s.
Quite simply, he felt carved from stone.
And stone was good, as this was no easy trip Jacob had made from where ‘Herlock, Delaware used to be’- some hundred and fifty miles of tough terrain to the south.
The journey was certainly not like it used to be- when a smooth, paved road offered an easy ride for any gas powered vehicle to cruise between the neighboring states. What had once taken no more than a few hours by car was now, generally, a three day trip on foot- and that was only for the most determined, conditioned traveler willing to brave some portion of the expedition after the sun went down.
It wasn’t that Jacob couldn’t have moved his home further north. He certainly could have. He could have joined the small bands of people who collected there in the old cities. But shortly after the world had shifted, Jacob had chosen the quieter, remote location to settle his family. He had moved there because, instead of a small section of concrete floor surrounded by the rubble of a fallen building, he now had a spacious five bedroom home of his own. Instead of looking out at ruins and desperation, Jacob had a serene view of farmland and beautiful, new world nature.
But he had really moved there for one reason. Because it was safe.
Safer.
Safer than the violence driven, gang infested areas near the old cities. The rubbled ex-metropolises where people had flocked to loot and pillage what they could- and then stayed because they had no idea where else to go. A dangerous squalor where old and new world drugs combined to fuel the twisted dynamics. Bastions of lawlessness and chaos that threatened to self-implode, swallowing the less fortunate and the ill-timed.
Down in the area where Herlock, Delaware used to be, one needed to be wary for sure. There was nowhere on new earth that one was completely protected. But a certain distance outside those populated areas, a person could occasionally close their eyes for peaceful sleep. Take a slow breath of almost fresh air. And in this new world, that was often enough to be grateful for.
Jacob had also chosen the location because of the many farm animals there. Animals that had lived through that terrible split second of madness. For the less than the one seventh of humanity that survived, the basic necessities such as food and shelter had quickly become all any of them could focus on. So from this bountiful location, Jacob could not only live in relative comfort and feed his family, but also move north or south to more populated pockets to trade his animal meat. And if time permitted, he could scavenge for abandoned valuables at the same time.
It wasn’t the same as life in the old world. Not nearly so. But it was a start. A start at building whatever might pass for a future in this new place. A new world wealth and comfort for himself and his family.
Jacob owned a few horses, but riding them so far north would have been impossible. The overbearing heat and lack of fresh water were a problem for sure, but not the real obstacle. Even in the seemingly most desolate, abandoned areas, a healthy horse would be almost immediately stolen the moment its owner walked away from it- usually for its meat. So his horses were only used to help in the farming. And when the animals couldn’t help with that work anymore, only then would they be eaten. If not by Jacob himself, then sliced up and added to his meat for trade stock- and eaten by someone who had properly reimbursed him.
The walk didn’t bother Jacob anyway. Certainly not as much as losing one of his prize animals would have. He was the type of man who required time alone- even from his family. His brain required solitude to re-charge. The walks gave him that.
And the trip was much less taxing since his body had been reborn into something amazing.
The walk from the old Delaware Bay towards his home took Jacob another several hours- and the sun was nearly down when he reached the tip of the long, dirt path that would lead him home. Yawning and rubbing his tired eyes, Jacob yearned for the first glimpse of greeting from the two people who, for him, were really the only other two people left on earth.
But what was normally a refreshing and joyful sight put a sudden shard of fear into his heart. There was something out of place at his home. Something that his farm hadn’t seen for a very long time.
Visitors.
An old, modified transit bus took up the entire driveway side to side- and partially blocked Jacob’s view of his large, Victorian-style farm house.
Jacob hadn’t heard a running engine for many years. There were precious few working motor vehicles on new earth- and those that did exist were difficult to find gas for- and could rarely be adapted to make it over the significantly damaged roads. But this vehicle had been modified, with huge, monster truck wheels and matching shock absorbers and suspension. This was no home garage modification. This had taken means. It meant that the rumors of gathering wealth and power were true.
Without conscious thought- Jacob’s feet began to elevate above the earth- and at once he shed his belongings and was running at an incredible pace.
Jacob shoved open the thick, oak door and burst into the foyer, turning quickly towards unfamiliar shapes and movements in the living room. He was greeted by two, startled men in dusty brown uniforms- their laughter quickly fading into silence. They froze in place, ceasing their rummaging through Jacob’s home and possessions.
“Who the fuck are you?” Jacob demanded.
The men separated from each other slightly, drifting into a loose half circle around Jacob, preparing for a fight.
“Are you Jake Reed?” One of them asked.
The sound of his own name shocked him, but Jacob ignored the question and asked his own. “Where are my wife and son?”
The butt of the rifle hit the back of Jacob’s head with tremendous force, a strike that would have dropped any normal man to his knees. But Jacob’s muscle was thicker now. His bone more dense. And the strike had more effect on his emotions than on him.
Jacob spun at his attacker- a raged glare in his eyes- and he landed a stiff front kick to the man’s chest and sent him tumbling backwards ten feet- smashing into a glass and brass bookshelf that shattered on impact.
The two other uniformed men sprung forward at Jacob in unison- throwing wild punches and dodging into half hearted tackles.
There was something they didn’t know.
The shift through universes had changed some men.
But not most men.
Not these uniformed goons. They were slow and predictable and unspectacular. Scared to take a hit and thus unable to throw a very effective one. These men had not received any special gifts during the shift. They were overwhelmingly average. This, they knew.
That Jacob had been changed- they did not.
The shift had killed millions more than it had spared- but it profoundly changed some of those who survived. It had changed Jacob- and he knew it had changed him. He just didn’t know exactly how. He didn’t know that as the earth had passed through multiple universes- some humans had passed directly through other living beings- sharing the very same place and time for a fraction of a moment. And in that moment of time- faster than anything any human had ever measured- their DNA had become one with the other. Combined, and then reformed into a new, third strain.
Jacob didn’t know who or what he had been combined with. He didn’t know if there were other beings walking around somewhere on other planets with his DNA inside them.
But he knew he was stronger. Here and now- he was that.
Faster. Tougher. Harder to hurt.
And he would call on those abilities. For now, that would be enough.
Jacob countered the sloppy attack of the men with precise and serious blows.
A straight right hand to the jaw of the man approaching on his left.
A knee to the groin followed by a descending elbow to the head of the man on his right.
And as they fell away from his concern- he was free to make a dash for the staircase in the center of the hallway.
His mind racing on a thousand horrible thoughts- Jacob pushed open the door to the master bedroom- and in there he found the reality was impossibly worse than anything he could have imagined.
His wife, Alana, hung naked from the rafters of their bedroom, a horse bridle looped around her neck and digging into her soft skin. Her bloated tongue protruded out of swollen, blood soaked lips. Once beautiful and loving eyes were bruised and welded shut with dried blood and swelled flesh. Her bare thighs still stained with the fresh attacks of a half dozen men.
Swinging slowly next to her, Jacob’s six year old son, Caleb, his face the gray pale of the dead. His noose had been fashioned from a worn, thin, white rope- something that might have been a laundry line or tent support in another time. The ever present joy and wonder on his son’s face was, in fact, not present. It had been stolen from him by an unnatural death.
Mother and son had both feet cleanly removed from their legs just above the ankles- and both were positioned carefully above a funneled plastic tub which collected every drop of spilled blood that ran from their lifeless bodies.
“Am I minutes too late? An hour? How many steps of time would I need to retrace…?”
Jacob had not really seen the four uniformed men in the room. His eyes may have picked up their images, but his distracted mind had not computed their presence. From a blind spot to his left, one of the men made a grab at Jacob, whose mouth still hung open in horror and despair.
Bad intentions became the worst- and Jacob struck out with single purpose. To kill. A spinning elbow to the larynx was enough to ensure the man would never take another step- at least not in this life. But Jacob followed with a looping overhand left to the temple and shocking knee to the side of the head- because he had always been thorough by nature.
As the warm, fresh corpse of the man crumpled to the floor- a shot rang out- another sound Jacob had not heard for a very long time. The bullet pierced Jacob’s abdomen with surgical precision on entry- and ripped in tumbling devastation upon exit. The force of it sent him falling back against the wall- painting over the pale white plaster with a crimson smear of blood as he slumped over…
…and down.
“No you idiot!” Shouted one of the men. “That’s him! That’s the guy! Don’t shoot him.”
“Easy for you to say.” Another came back- presumably the shooter. “He was closer to me than you.”
“He’s not worth anything dead.”
“Neither are we.” This man’s booted feet shuffled slowly forward. “I think he killed Andrew.”
“Shackle him.”
“You shackle him.” The man hollered back with resentment. “You’re not the fucking boss you know? You’re not in charge of us.”
“Oh shut up, Carl. You sound like a six year old. You’re the idiot that killed the kid. We wouldn’t be in this situation if it…”
“You were raping his wife! Why don’t you…”
“Both of you shut up.” A mediator injected. “I’ll do it.”
Jacob was acutely aware of his own breathing. Ragged and shallow. Painful.
He had beaten the impossible odds during the shift- not only surviving himself but with his wife. They had managed to have a healthy baby without real medical care or supervision. Created a picture perfect family in the middle of an impossibly imperfect world. But his good fortune had run out now. The perfect picture smashed and burning to ashes.
Now he was dying- beside and below his already dead love.
Three more vanished lives out of so many lost in this new world. And all three deaths echoed in Jacob’s head- isolated sounds of nothing. His struggling heart was beating inside his head. Each involuntary wheeze for breath seemed to tear and pull at his swollen and punctured organs- and carry him further away.
As he felt the heavy metal rings being slipped over his ankles, he opened his eyes, then looked past the man who shackled him and gazed again at his murdered family. He would surely be joining them soon- and found himself hoping they could forgive him. Hoping they would greet him with understanding smiles.
“I would have been here if I had known. I wouldn’t have ever left you.”
“What’s the fucking point of this?” One of the men asked aloud. “He’s going to be dead in five minutes. Just leave him here.”
“No.” Another commanded. “He’s the whole reason we’re down this far. If we can keep him alive, he might be worth something. Patch him up."
Jacob thought there was much debate about nothing. There would be no coming back from this marble sized wound in his gut, or the baseball sized exit wound in his back. No return from the punctured organs that spilled blood and poison into his failing system. There was no hope. Only… maybe… time for one final taste of revenge.
The shackles were connected by a chain and fully secured around his ankles. So in unison, Jacob pulled his knees to his chest and fired them both upward into the uniformed man’s face. And even in Jacob’s weakened state, the blow sent the man sailing backwards across the room and crashing into the far wall.
The others reacted first by backing up- and in that moment Jacob sprung up to his feet then pushed off his two bound legs at the man closest to him. He grabbed that man by the throat as they fell to the floor, Jacob’s weight adding to the force and blasting all the air from the man’s lungs in an audible “whoomf.”
As they impacted the bloody oak floor boards, Jacob’s powerful hands closed tightly around the man’s throat- crushing his larynx and the protective cartilage around his windpipe. Within seconds the man had turned beat red. Then a deep blue. He would not live- nothing but a true miracle could prevent his death now. And as everyone on new earth had learned- true miracles didn’t really exist. Not here.
The cache of weapons the men carried was not in alignment with any code or standard. Nothing was easy to come by in the world these days- and weapons were certainly no exception. So the items they had were a hodge podge, mismatched collection of devices, but more than capable of doing the job they would be called upon to do. Effective even against some of the extraordinary people who had been created in the shift.
The ‘freaks’ as some had taken to calling them.
The three foot long silver rod one of the men grabbed from its leaning position against the wall had served as an electric elephant prod in the old world. Few people now had the resources to illuminate even a light bulb, let alone charge a device such as this. But this belonged to a man of means. Not any of these men, but a man they reported to.
The pseudo-soldier with the electric elephant prod jammed the device into Jacob’s rib cage- and it sent a painful, paralyzing electrical surge through his body.
When the man finally released his thumb from the button on the prod, Jacob could breathe again. And while smelling smoke coming from inside his own body, he tumbled over, laying prone next to the corpse he had just created.
He caught one final, blurry glimpse of his family, swinging ever so slightly above him. Then his vision was blackened by the metal baton crashing over his forehead.
Chapter 3
Jacob felt consciousness seep reluctantly back into his brain, but his eyelids did not respond to the initial commands to open. So he remained in the dark, feeling around himself with slow moving fingers, allowing his body to work back towards some semblance of unification on its own schedule.
His normally limitless energy was sapped.
The pain in his abdomen was radiating through him. Worms of fire coming from his core and disappearing out his skin.
Finally, his eyes fluttered open.
He was on a bus.
The bus.
The modified monster vehicle that had been parked in the driveway of his home.
Maybe minutes ago.
Maybe hours.
Across from the makeshift stretcher of canvas he was laying on was a stack of plastic containers. Inside them, a syrupy, dark red liquid sloshed from side to side.
An incidental blending of the dead.
The seats of the bus were filled with random men and women. Many of them had been beaten. All of them were shackled to iron bars installed on the back of every seat.
Each of them was in varying stages of pure physical and emotional misery. Another in a long string of horrible days.
Jacob looked through the blur down at his own shackled hands and feet.
He thought of his family.
And then gracefully of his own impending death.
“Come for me already. What’s taking so long?”
And then he fell unconscious again.
Chapter 4
It had been more than a day- but to Jacob it was mere collection of sparse moments. A poorly spliced montage.
The bus bouncing over an obstacle in the road.
A woman’s intense screams.
An angry, uniformed man yelling and barking orders.
Again, Jacob wrestled with the darkness that held him like a warm blanket, unable to fully emerge into consciousness.
“You shot him?” The voice from above him was loud and angry. “You idiots! God damned idiots!”
“He killed three of my men, Mister Kane.” That voice was defensive and tired.
“Did you tell him my offer?”
“We didn’t get a chance, sir. The guy exploded into the room like a friggin’ maniac.”
“Oh Christ.” You could hear a plan unraveling in this man’s sighs and moans. “You didn’t even make the offer?”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me. He killed three guys. He wasn’t exactly open to negotiations. He was like a grizzly bear that just got poked in the ass.”
“Well why did he flip out?” Some things weren’t making sense. This was not how this was supposed to go. “Why did he attack you? How did you approach him? With guns pointed in his face? You didn’t try to capture him like the rest of the slaves did you?”
“No.” The man said flatly- the tone of an experienced liar. “We approached him just like you said.”
“Was he with anyone? Did he have a family?”
The words echoed around Jacob’s broken mind- as did the venomous lie that came next.
“No. He was alone. No family.”
“Stupid son of a bitch.” It wasn’t clear if the man was talking about his hired gun or about Jacob. “There’s a doctor in the small prison, right?”
“I believe so, sir.” This voice was different from the first two- but only slightly so.
“Put him in there until he wakes up. If he wakes up. Give the doctor a few supplies and tell him I’ll have something special for him if this guy recovers.”
“He’s half dead, sir. It’s a lot of trouble for one guy. I don’t think he’s worth it.”
There was a pause as if the man was considering something, but then settled on exactly what he wanted to say. “That’s because you never saw him fight.”
Chapter 5
Jacob opened his eyes slowly and looked around the room.
He recognized nothing.
Not one item was familiar to him- and he didn’t really care that it was so.
He had been regaining consciousness slowly- and with each fathom he climbed from the void, the more vivid the memories became.
Nightmares shifted to chilling reality.
Floating between life and death, the images of his murdered family hanging lifeless in front of him had been a painful, tangled mystery- solved with the illumination of clear thought. His torment on display in a million shattered fragments- collecting into one horrifying truth.
It seemed clear that life had beaten death in the battle for Jacob. And along with it came the realization that he had survived the worst disaster in the history of the world- only to fall into a much smaller, much harsher, much more personal one.
Still, there were questions of a practical nature.
“Why am I alive? I was shot through the stomach. Losing blood by the pint. No one survives that. What the hell am I? This isn’t possible.”
Even as he asked himself the questions- Jacob found himself not caring about the answers. There was something he was trying to build with his life- but his family had been the foundation of it. Whatever he was in this new world- it didn’t work without them. Things were beyond broken.
However he ended up here- whoever had done this- it just didn’t matter. Nothing would bring them back.
His problem was the vast nothing he was marooned in the middle of.
Nothing was the problem. So nothing could ever really fix it.
He rubbed his trembling hand down over his chest, a lump in his shirt pocket stopping his hand. He reached in carefully, and pulled out a spark plug that had somehow remained there through all the chaos.
It was a Champion brand plug. Good condition. Traded for a small cut of raccoon meat, the plug was almost certain to fire up with the application of a proper battery, a more difficult but not impossible item to find.
Without much more thought, he slipped the object back inside.
Jacob sat up, still running his fingers over his torso. Over the considerably painful, yet remarkably healed wound on his stomach.
He had seen this healing before- just not nearly so pronounced or dramatic as this.
A cut on his calf while chopping wood behind the house. Vanished in minutes.
A deep slice on his forearm, courtesy of some distracted meat carving. Untraceable just an hour later.
The injuries had healed completely in an impossibly short time- even failing to leave scars. But still, healing on this scale was completely unexpected. From what Jacob could see, from what he remembered, he was returning from injuries that could not be described as anything but lethal.
His legs were tired- but worked well enough to stand and shuffle forward, using the post of the wooden bed he was laying in as support. He looked without seeing around the room- it was a wooden shanty of some kind- with some cabinets and rusted, patched medical supplies scattered about. A table. Some filthy tablets with chicken-scratch writing.
What passed for a hospital these days, perhaps? The doctor that the man hovering above him had spoken about?
Was that a dream?
Or was this?
It didn’t matter. Not really.
He pushed the thin but finely crafted door open, squinting into the bright day sun that hit him like a wall of angry light. Breathing in as deeply as he dared from the stale and tired air around him, there was the familiar smell of rotting and decay.
So it wasn’t Heaven.
And it probably wasn’t Hell.
“You’re up.” Doctor Juang Lee struggled in a manual wheelchair just outside the shack- pushing his strong hands against the wheels to move himself forward over the loose dirt. “Incredible.”
“You’re easily impressed.” Jacob said without making much eye contact. “For my next amazing feat I’m going to walk out of here.” He glanced down at the man’s wheelchair. “Oh… sorry. I guess to you that would seem pretty amazing.”
Lee frowned at the callous remark. “My name is Doctor Lee. I treated your wounds.”
“Send me a bill.”
Doctor Juang Lee was a handsome, Asian man in his mid-fifties. Aside from the thin, withering legs of a long term paraplegic, he was as healthy looking as most men in that profession who practiced what they preached. He wore a thin, black t-shirt with a spray painted red X splashed across the front. “You can’t leave here.” The Doctor said, realizing Jacob was serious about going. “And not just because you’re in a very fragile state of health.”
Jacob chose now to make full eye contact. He had never liked being told what to do. “Can’t leave? Says who?”
Lee tried to give the appearance of a friend- then realizing he had no idea what that looked like, spoke. “For starters, those men on the wall with guns.”
Jacob looked around the large encampment- noting an armed, uniformed man standing nearly every fifty feet along a raised wooden walkway- a walkway which surrounded the fifteen foot fence that surrounded everything else. The uniforms they wore with authority were somewhat familiar.
Familiar enough.
“Oh good. Those are just the people I wanted to talk to.” Jacob stepped forward but stumbled from weakness.
“Yes. I’m sure you do.” The Doctor replied calmly, reaching out to help steady him. “They look like the men who shot you, yes?”
“How did you guess?”
“Few people but Kane’s men have guns.” Lee said. “And they brought you in here. Not a difficult deduction.”
“Brilliant. But I was being sarcastic. Or rhetorical. I’m not sure.” Jacob said flatly. “Who the hell is Kane?”
Doctor Lee nodded back towards the wall. “All those men work for Alfonse Kane. You’re locked inside his prison, Jake Reed.”
“It’s Jacob.” Jacob looked around him. “So this is a prison? Okay. Good to know.” Jacob stretched his stiff back and flexed his shoulders in small circles. “I’m going to go kill some people now.”
“As well as yourself?” The doctor warned. “No man can stand against that much force.”
Jacob forced a wry smile. “I’m no ordinary man.”
“So I see.” The doctor raised his voice to stop Jacob from trying to move forward. “No ordinary man could heal as quickly as you have. It’s likely no normal man would have survived at all. And your skin, it’s as thick and tough as leather. I had to use half my strength just to puncture you with a syringe. You’ve meshed.”
Jacob had long wondered what had happened to him during the shift- and it appeared this man might have some answers. “Meshed?”
“You haven’t traveled much since our world shifted, have you?”
“Airline blacked out my frequent flier miles.”
Lee frowned. “Meshing is what we call the phenomenon that happened to some humans when our universe shifted through the others. At least it’s our theory of what happened.” Doctor Lee opened his hands and threaded his fingers together. “It seems that some human DNA- the very base of what we are made of- combined with beings from other planets. Other universes. And in that meshing of bio systems, some humans inherited the amazing abilities and powers of other species. Like I suspect you did with your astonishing healing power. I’ve only seen one other up close- a meshed person that is. They’re considered quite special in some circles- and usually paid for their services.”
“What did you mesh with?” Jacob sneered. “A bicycle?”
Doctor Lee’s eyes held more pity than anger. “I suffered spinal trauma when the building I was in collapsed around me. Luckier than most who were sitting near me. Luckier still, I suppose, when I was able to secure this wheelchair for myself. It allows me to get around much easier.”
Jacob knew it was his irrational anger that had him lashing out at the stranger, but his stubborn pride didn’t allow for an apology. “Yeah. Whatever. Thanks for the chat- gotta go. People to kill…? You remember.”
“Whatever revenge you seek, it will not be served by your own death. That I know.” The Doctor turned his chair towards him. “If you charge these men, you won’t survive long enough to make one bit of difference.”
“You’d be surprised what I can survive?”
“Yes. We’ve been through that. I say something and then you say I would be surprised when the opposite happens.” The doctor’s scientific curiosity got the best of him. “So you’ve been wounded before then? And healed?”
“That’s just part of it.” Jacob said. “Let’s just say healing isn’t even my best feature.”
“Amazing…” The doctor collected himself. “Still… I’ve had a very up close look at your body. You’re still human. At least a living being of some sort. And what lives, can also die. You seemed very close to it, in fact, when they brought you in. And you don’t seem so terribly far from it now. You can barely stand. And that was from only one gunshot wound. Can even you survive two? Or three? Or ten?”
Jacob smiled, “What say we find out? Sort of like an experiment.”
“You won’t survive.” The doctor answered the question he had thought was rhetorical. “And whatever they’ve done to you- whatever it is that has made you so willing to throw away your own life in trade for a few of theirs will go, ultimately, unpunished. That can’t be a satisfactory ending for you.”
Jacob leaned against the shanty wall for support, turning towards the doctor. “I’m gonna go ahead and take a wild guess that you have something at stake here, Wheels. A dog in the fight, so to speak? So instead of pretending you’re so concerned with my well-being and who I do or don’t punish - how about we just cut the shit and you go ahead and tell me what you want.”
“It would help us both.” The doctor assured him. “If revenge is what you crave… if you truly want justice served on those who have wronged you… you won’t obtain it by charging headstrong into these men. These meaningless minions who would strike down their own mothers for the right count of silver.” Lee leaned forward. “Wait. Bide your time. And the opportunity for true vengeance will find you. Not against the puppets, but the puppeteers.” Lee looked around them and lowered his tone to a near whisper. “We are organizing. I risk much in telling you that. You could be a spy. Maybe they wounded you… knowing you would heal… to get our sympathy and get you in here among us without suspicion. To become trusted.”
Jacob looked at Lee and then around the fenced compound. Of the few prisoners walking the yard, he spotted a group of elderly people moving slowly in the opposite direction. They wore various and random outfits comprised of cast-off clothes, no more than shabby rags in most cases. And each article of clothing was marked with red spray paint.
“How do I put this delicately?” Jacob asked sarcastically. “But I doubt anyone with any real power is all too worried about a group of old farts and a cripple. No one here looks like a real threat to anybody. Not enough to send a spy in anyway. I think you’re safe.”
“Power isn’t always at the end of a gun.” Lee replied.
“Yes it is.” Jacob said straight-faced. “That’s how it always been and that’s how it’s always going to be.”
“A man named Mohandas Gandhi proved that untrue.” Lee nodded. “If you wait, you will learn everything about us… in time. You will come to see that we have plans with the type of far reaching, permanent power that could never come from violence. And we might help you find what you seek at the same time.”
“And what do you get?” Jacob almost laughed. “If I wait, I mean? Or are your interests in what I do and when I die purely philanthropic?”
“You’re special.” The words sounded silly but his face was serious. “We’ve got new people coming in here all the time. None are ever injured. You know why?”
“Good health benefits?”
“Because if a slave is ever seriously wounded, they take us away. We’ve heard the guards say that they sell the wounded to Montgomery. And if you get sold to Montgomery no one ever hears from you again. We’ve figured that many have become cannibalistic in these times and that the dead have become food. So our best guess is that when you outlast your usefulness, you become someone’s dinner.”
“What the fuck is this place?” Jacob was annoyed and it didn’t go well with his light headedness. “What do you mean people coming in all the time? Who fucking killed my family?”
Jacob’s unrestrained anger made more sense to Doctor Lee now, and he softened his posture. “I’m very sorry to hear about your family. I didn’t know this. You should know that you share that pain with many people here.”
“Spare me the sympathy. What is this place?”
“For lack of a better phrase, this is a slave town. It’s a slave town inside a much larger town outside of where New York City used to be. Do you remember New York City?”
“I’m older than ten, aren’t I? Who older than ten doesn’t remember New York?” Jacob gritted his teeth. “What are you talking about? Slave town?”
The words were not any easier for Lee to speak than they were for Jacob to understand. “When the earth shifted… while the rest of us were sifting through the devastation, dealing with the loss of our loved ones and the disintegration of our lives, there were a few men conglomerating power. It started as little more than organized crime- but in the vacuum of power they grew very fast. Came to know true power very quickly. With the money system collapsed, they controlled virtually all the new currency. Food and water most importantly. Drugs, both the medical purposed and the recreational variety. The sex trade and gambling, of course. And then, perhaps most importantly, the weapons. By the end, they were going door to door, collecting any loose weapons under the guise of a ‘safety’ patrol. Even steak knives had to be surrendered. It’s virtually impossible to find a weapon they don’t own.”
“So you’re saying there’s a bunch of fucking gangs running things now?” Jacob spit. “Same as down where I’m from. They’re just punks, thriving on intimidation and fear.”
“When they started, maybe.” Lee replied. “But they’re much more than that now. Now they’re some kind of perverted, quasi-legitimate power. The masses turned to them for what they needed to survive. Now many are dependent on them. Some are beholden. Others, like us, are just owned, by force and by violence. Kane sits at the top of the New World Order with a man named Montgomery. They’ve both accumulated a similar amount of power, weapons, men… etcetera. And besides those two men, there’s Swasso. Chavez and Lowell. A few others maybe, but those are the main players.” Lee shrugged his shoulders. “The five kings, some would say. It’s not easy to get information locked behind this gate, but we have our sources. We know these men have carved up the area for themselves. And that they stroll without a care around this world as if they’ve been elected to public office. And they rule with absolute impunity. And that’s how people are beginning to see them. As rulers.”
“Bullshit.” Jacob shook the image from his head. “I’m from just down south of here. I’ve been all over to the place that used to be Philadelphia a dozen times. They never heard of any of those dickheads. There are no real leaders. Everybody knows that.”
“They haven’t heard of them… yet.” Lee said ominously. “But without phone and computer networks, what used to be two hundred miles might as well be two hundred thousand. And that’s why they gather most of their slave labor from further outside of the region. They would rather grow their influence here with whatever passes for wealth these days. I’m from the old New England area. We have a few in here that survived in the mid-west. These men don’t want to collect their slave labor too close to home until they’re sure they can’t be stopped. Until people everywhere have no choice but to come to them.”
The entire scenario still seemed impossible to Jacob. “You’re telling me that no one out there cares that these men own human slaves? Or that they’re keeping them here in a slave camp? This doesn’t bother anyone? All human decency has just dried up?”
Lee nodded in anticipation of the disbelief. “They do all of this under the guise of law enforcement. They claim that we’ve all committed some crime or another and that we’re prisoners paying our debt back to society through labor. If they find any real criminals, they seem to hire most of them as employees. More valuable skill set I suppose. In any event, this is the cover story they use. And without trial or representation, our voices are unheard.”
“And people are buying this?”
“These men are the same men from the power set of old earth. New names and faces maybe, but they’re the same. They make the rules now. They don’t need the truth because they simply make the truth. So yes, people buy it, more or less. Maybe they just don’t care.” Lee took a deep breath. “These men, these wanna-be Kings, they won’t stop until there is no more power to be had. Then they’ll likely turn on each other until there is only one. Isn’t that how it goes?” Lee looked around. “We need to watch our volume. We are not allowed to discuss this sort of thing here.”
Jacob looked around the encampment again. He noticed for the first time that the prisoners’ spray painted clothes were not decorated with random, red markings.
And Doctor Lee’s shirt was not marked with an X.
They were all marked with the letter K.
The tired, broken faces of the prisoners turned briefly to catch a glimpse of the new slave, then, generally unimpressed and uninspired, they quickly turned their gaze back to the ground. Jacob even saw some children walking quietly next to tired women with stern, despaired faces. And then he turned back to Doctor Lee. “I see a bunch of skinny women and kids here. Old men and women. A guy in a wheelchair. This is a slave camp? For what? Quilt making?”
“Strong, able bodied men don’t last long around here.” Lee admitted. “They become guards, either here or in Kane’s personal army. That’s how I know he doesn’t plan for you to be around very long. As you heal…” Lee looked around them again. “Mister Kane has what we hear anyway, one of the most agreeable slave compounds to be imprisoned in. He often allows fractured families to stay together here. Allows us to set up this… pseudo-town for ourselves. We have a school. Church. A halfway decent shower facility. He tells the public it’s to help in reformation. Tells us it’s to protect people who can’t protect themselves.”
“That don’t add up.” Jacob said surely. “Slave labor is about profit. The money system may be gone, but wealth will never go away. And this place with these people isn’t making anyone wealthy.”
“We farm and grow fresh food in the field behind the prison.” Lee pointed over the rear fence.
Jacob eyed the small field. “Nope.” He decided quickly. “That doesn’t make much business sense.”
“And he… uses… some of the younger women.” Lee continued to justify the labor impact.
“Uses?” Jacob half laughed. “Is that what we’re calling rape nowadays?”
“Call it rape and you’ll find yourself facing severe punishment.” Lee said with firsthand knowledge. “I can’t explain how this slave camp helps Kane multiply his wealth, but this is what he uses us for. And we’ve begun to feel lucky that he lets us stay together.”
Jacob snorted. “I’ll be sure to tell him what a nice guy you think he is when I’m cutting the heart out his chest.”
“I was not suggesting he’s a good person.” Lee defended. “Only… that he runs his prison in a way that suits us better than his counterparts. Letting us walk about freely instead of putting us in manufactured cages. But he gets his money’s worth out of all who come under his thumb. Even the children.”
“Tell that to my wife and kid.” Jacob said, the flame of emotion burning brighter in his eyes. “Because he didn’t take them. He didn’t bring them here. He killed them. On the spot.”
Doctor Lee looked carefully at Jacob. “What did they do to your family? The men who came for you?”
“This conversation is over. I’ve got work to…”
“Did they bleed them?”
Jacob’s reaction could not have been more physical if he had been struck in the face. “How did you know that?”
“The units that spread outside the region, looking for slaves and weapons and whatever else they can get their hands on, they’re more mercenaries than loyal employees. Mixed and matched from all the different power brokers.”
“What does one thing got to do with the other?” Jacob asked angrily. “What does that have to do with how they killed my family?”
“Montgomery wants slaves like the rest of the five families. And as I suggested, we think he also sells the meat of the dead, passing it off as beef or deer. But Montgomery also wants blood. Pure blood. I know a man who works for Kane. Works in his ‘sports’ enterprise. He gets us information and I remember him saying something about getting Montgomery blood.” Lee seemed to be running a mystery over in his mind, aware that it was a tremendous amount of information for Jacob to absorb. “They have a powerful fighter there. Apparently he is the champion of their fighting league. We’ve heard some horrible things about him.” Lee seemed to be flying by his own memories as he spoke. “It’s likely that the unit that came for you at your home did the math amongst themselves, and found that your families’ blood brought them more money than any of the other options. They may also have chopped them up for their meat.” Lee caught himself in mid thought, and then studied the horrored pain on Jacob’s face. “I’m sorry to be so blunt about this atrocity. I’ve been so numbed to it all that sometimes I forget it’s more than just pieces to a puzzle.” He looked down at the ground, his fingers fumbling on the dusty wheels of his chair. “It wasn’t always that way. I wasn’t always that way, either. When I lost my family... all of them… during the shift…” Lee fought off his own gruesome images. “But this is the reality, isn’t it? Life as we know it.”
“What do you mean Montgomery wants blood? For what?” Jacob struggled to process what he had heard.
“I don’t know… exactly.” The doctor replied honestly, but reserving. “I give that answer a lot around here to a lot of questions… because it’s true. As I said, my contact thinks it has something to do with the fighting league they have. But I don’t know why Montgomery pays for blood. I don’t know where they take the slaves they purchase from Kane. We only guess. I don’t know if we’ll ever get out of here. And I don’t know why they wanted you so badly.” Lee wiped his palm slowly across his tired face. “That last one… I think that one we’ll get an answer to. If we wait. Kane will come and he’ll have answers. Maybe not all… but some.” Lee breathed deeply again. “You’re tired. You’re hurt. Why not rest? What could you accomplish in this condition? And maybe if we wait, we find a better way.”
Jacob pressed his thumbs deep into his forehead. The good doctor was right. Jacob was hurt. He was tired. And he wasn’t going to get what he wanted this way.
He would wait- if not for a better way…
… maybe just a better opportunity.
Chapter 6
Jacob’s new ‘home’ was the nicest shanty the prison encampment had to offer- and it was apparently given to him on the orders of Alfonse Kane himself.
Built specifically to give the guards’ a convenient place to consort with select female prisoners, the ‘love shack’ had become Jacob’s temporary home. He had been told- several times in fact- that he was the only prisoner to have living quarters all to himself.
The first slave bachelor pad wasn’t much in the way of luxuries. At a snug eighteen foot by twelve foot, it barely fit the simple bed adorned with stacked comforters for padding. A straight back chair and a small night table were the only other furnishings, leaving just enough space for three full steps of pacing side to side.
And Jacob used every inch of that area for just that purpose.
Jacob’s first night of consciousness in the prison had, ironically, been sleepless for him. And he spent the lightless, early morning hours fighting away the visions.
“There is no future. I won’t last like this.”
At times, Jacob occupied himself by counting the nails used to secure the structure to itself.
“Five nails per vertical stud. All of them placed in the same location across the room. This was a professional job.”
Later, his entertainment came from examining every crack in the walls of his new home- as each of them were revealed through the darkness by the rising, orange sun.
“You let yourself in without invitation. And you’ll do the same tomorrow morning. And the morning after that. But you’re an impotent house guest. I can’t keep you out, but you couldn’t stay out if you wanted to. Millions of miles away and we’re together through no choice of our own.”
The knock on the door startled him, and he found himself unsure if the sound came from inside his own mind or outside the shack itself. He waited for a second series of taps before speaking. “Come in?”
Doctor Lee pulled the latch aside and pushed the door open. He waited an appropriate length of time until he realized for certain that Jacob was not going to offer his assistance without being prompted. “Could you help me, please? It’s a little difficult to get my wheels over this ledge.”
Jacob scowled at him. “Well then that ledge is working to my advantage, isn’t it?” The two stared at each other for a moment. “That means go away.”
Doctor Lee bristled, pushing himself up straight with strong arms. “But I need to examine you. Give you treatment.”
“I’m ship shape, Doc.” Jacob said, ignoring the pain pulsing throughout his body. “Your services are no longer required.” Jacob picked up the well crafted chair beside him, and holding it from the long back, used the legs to shove the door closed, all accomplished without having to move from his seated position on the bed.
The next series of knocks came quickly, and the doctor’s annoyance was audible in the thumps- and in his voice. “Jacob, this isn’t just about you.”
Jacob stood on tired legs and wobbled over to the door on aching feet, pulling it open wide and leaning over the seated doctor. “Funny. I would have thought with it being my medical treatment and all that it was just about me? Who else could it possibly be about?”
“May I come in, please?” Lee looked over his shoulder at a pair of interested guards. “Perhaps I haven’t explained the situation properly.”
“Perhaps you haven’t.” Jacob said sarcastically, stepping out and helping guide the wheelchair inside the small room. “Maybe if you didn’t say everything like you were having tea with the Queen, your points wouldn’t be so easily lost on us common folk.”
“I apologize if my English is not perfect.” Lee bowed his head. “I only began studying it a few years ago.”