Regenesis (Book 1): Impact (5 page)

Jordan
stirred in his seat, his balance failed him, and the subconscious awareness of
his fall woke him just in time to catch himself. He cursed under his breath and
resituated himself in the chair, though Rachel mentioned how she wanted to
leave and robbed him of another opportunity to catch sleep. Jordan stashed his
lighter away, Rachel left hers, and they started out toward the main area of
the park side by side. They hardly made it halfway before they heard the
laughter of a small boy.

He
sat up on one of the lower branches of a great gnarled tree and looked out at
the people who played and resided at the park. A wide, crooked, and somewhat
toothless grin spread from ear to ear on the young boy’s face. “It-ty, bit-ty,
twit-ty, wit-ty, ant-ties.” he quietly said to himself in the tree.
“Heheheh…scurry, scurry, hurry, hurry!”

Jordan
looked up at the kid and asked what he was doing. “You’re going to fall,” he
told the boy resolutely.

The
boy ignored him and glanced down at Rachel. He gasped and quickly cried out,
“You’re killing me!”

Alarmed,
she took a step back and asked what the hell he meant.

The
lad immediately smiled once more and thanked her. He pointed to the small leaf
she had previously stood upon. He then whispered his thanks to her before he
returned his attention to the park-dwellers and commented, “All the little ants
aren’t marching right…” he took a brief pause before he asked, “What’s missing?
What’s wrong…and who are they?”

Jordan
looked out over to where the kid peered but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“He’s nuts,” he murmured, “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Wait,”
the boy stopped them, “Why are they here? Why are they there? And what are they
all here for?”

“Are
you talking to us?” Rachel asked him.

The
pudgy boy looked at her and said he could ask her if she wanted him to. “Do you
want me to? ‘Cause I will.”

“What
are you talking about?”

He
giggled to himself and asked if she was one of them too. “You don’t look like
one, but who knows? Ants come in different shapes and colors and sizes and
smells. You might be…but you’re nothing like me…except for the smile, maybe.”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
can’t tell…” he smiled.

“You
can’t tell me because it’s a secret, or because you don’t know?”

The
boy suddenly frowned and admitted he was as lost as she was. He hopped down
from his perch and led the way out of the forest with Rachel and then Jordan
behind him.

The
three arrived at the entrance shortly and within a moment a young woman
situated in a wheelchair rushed over to the group and called out the young
boy’s name. “Michael, where have you been?”

The
boy smiled and said he needed to see the way things were. He examined her face
and quietly asked why she was so sad.

She
frowned and told him she wasn’t sad. “You worried me Michael; you can’t wander
off on your own, okay?” Michael failed to make a promise and instead left his
sister and ran back over to where his father and grandmother resided near the
swing set toward the entrance. The young woman apologized for her brother and
thanked Rachel and Jordan for their help.

“It
was nothing,” Rachel told her.

The
girl in the wheelchair took one look at the couple and figured out their
earlier activities. She thanked them again and left them to return to her
family.

“That
must have been pretty freaky,” Rachel said as soon as the girl was out of
earshot.

Jordan
didn’t add anything to her comment. He only let out a breath and remarked at
how he loathed that young woman. “She ratted me out once after I cheated off
some kid’s paper in a chemistry course I took last year. The bitch basically
gave me a failing grade and two detentions.” Rachel offered apathetic
condolences and urged him on toward his car.

They
passed the family at a distance a moment later. The young boy, Michael, waved
to them, but neither one returned his sign with anything more than a slight
smile.

---*---

7:25 PM

Bothell, Washington

Ian
sat in his room as he flipped through a photo album. The book contained
pictures taken of his, though only one of which had him in it. That photograph
was of a trip he’d taken with Drake, Jordan, Nick, and Nick’s brother Victor on
a camping trip the five of them took two summers ago. Only the four boys were
in the picture, as Victor took it with Mount Baker in the background.

The
rest of the photos Ian took of people and places he had seen, many of the
photographs were in black and white, only a few were in color. He flipped
through the images of angry commuters, majestic mountains, trash-filled alleys,
and one of Jordan when he was in a fight in Tacoma.

His
album was only half-full, and once he reached that point he set it back on his
desk, adjacent to his bed. The walls of his room were bare, the shag carpet was
free of clutter, and everything was in its place. He fell back to his bed,
closed his eyes, and tried to think about his day, rather than an excuse to get
out of the part Drake planned. He thought of how someone could be hurt, that an
argument would arise, and how it wasn’t worth the effort…though Ian knew Drake
would reject any and all reason or justifications Ian might dream up.

There
was a quiet knock on his door before Ian heard his mother ask if he was hungry,
“Dinner’s ready honey. I made a tuna casserole and rice.”

He
told her he was and that he’d be out to eat with her in a minute. Ian stared at
his ceiling for a moment before he brought himself to his feet and out to their
small dining room. The casserole and rice sat out in front of two place
settings. Ian neglected to mention that Drake bought a late lunch for him,
Jordan, and Rachel, but Ian knew he couldn’t abandon what his mother prepared
for him. He looked at the two place settings again and felt another frequent
dagger of guilt when he imagined his mother alone each night for dinner.

Ian’s
planned exodus to London weighed on him. The notion came to him from one of his
high school teachers who took a year to travel and live abroad. Ian heard tales
of the adventures and of what his instructor learned from that time away and
Ian wanted that for himself. Ian worked a part time job and saved everything he
could for the rest of his high school career, and with a little additional help
from his mom Ian managed to have enough money for the move. However, Ian failed
to consider his mother in all of his planning. He tried to call off the whole
endeavor, but his mother wouldn’t allow it. His mother was a relatively small
woman, with fading brown hair, and had what Ian considered a frail
constitution. She was, however, one of the strongest women he knew.

She
smiled and asked about his day. Ian took a breath and told her about what
happened, how Rachel mistakenly insulted Nick, and how Nick stormed off. His
mother frowned, “That poor boy’s been through a lot…”

“I
know.”

“You
don’t spend very much time together though, do you?”

He
shook his head, “I really only know him through Drake. Other than that I can’t
say I have any real connection to him.”

“Yes,
but wasn’t his brother your English teacher last year?”

“Yes.”

“Then
there’s something.”

He
only nodded, and tried the casserole.

---*---

7:32 PM

Lynnwood, Washington

Nick
clutched two grocery bags to his chest as he slowly rode home. It was his first
attempt at riding with anything and as such his heart raced. He took the roads
slowly and took the turns with the utmost care. When he finally arrived home
though, he found only his stepfather’s car in their driveway. Nick’s heart
sank.

He
opened the garage door, parked his bike inside, closed the garage door behind
him, and crept into the house. His stepfather was a heavy drinker and smoker,
and because of his habits, there was a wall of stale smoke and liquor in the
air every time anyone walked into their home. Nick made his way to the kitchen
and emptied the tattered bags on the counter near their fridge. A loaf of
bread, six cans of tuna in water, a head of lettuce, a few tomatoes, a brick of
cheese, a bag of frozen chicken, celery, six apples, and three cartons on
cigarettes.

Nick
grabbed the cartons and went into the living room, where he found Paul with a
beer in hand and his glazed eyes fixed on their television. Paul’s hair receded
but retained its jet-black color, though Nick suspected he dyed it regularly.
Paul wore a dirty, stained gray tee-shirt along with a pair of tattered brown
shorts. The dancing light from the television cast distorted shadows across the
man’s face, partly due to the stubble across his face and neck.

“You
get home from school this late?” he asked without removing himself from the
program.

“N-No,
school doesn’t st-start until the fourth of September. I-I was out with Ian,
Drake, and Jordan today,” he answered, eyes locked on the man’s, whose were
locked on the screen.

“You
get any food?”

“Yes,
b-b-but only a f-few things un-until V-Victor g-gets paid.”

“You
get more smokes?”

He
handed the man the cartons and Paul set them on the recliner with him. Nick
turned to leave, but was stopped when Paul asked whether he bought anymore
alcohol.

“N-No,
Victor gets that f-for you.”

“Victor,
Victor, Victor…you always have him do everything for you…you need to work
harder,” he opened another beer and gulped it down.

“P-Paul…I-I
think you’ve h-had enough of that t-tonight.”

The
man scowled, “Do you drink?”

“N-No.”

“Then
how the hell would you know anything about drinking?”

“Y-You’ve
got w-work in the m-morning, you need to stop–”

“Damn
it I know!” he yelled and chucked the empty bottle at the wall next to Nick, it
shattered, and Nick shrank away. Nick shielded himself from anything further.
Paul continued, “It doesn’t do anything to me, so quit yelling shit at me and
get the hell out of here!”

Nick
ran into his room and he slammed the door behind him. He took a seat on his bed
and shook as he let out a strained breath. His phone rang and he answered
weakly, “Hello?”

“Nick?
It’s Drake. Are you alright?”

“Y-You
mean a-about today?” He tried to laugh it off but knew it wasn’t convincing. He
couldn’t breathe but managed to mutter to Drake that everything was fine.

“Alright,
I just need you to promise me something.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t
turn this party into a disaster, okay?” Drake joked. “I can’t let Ian hold this
over my head, you know what I mean?”

“S-Sure,
I’ll-I’ll-I’ll try…”

“Great,
talk to you later.”

Nick
hung up and threw his phone on his desk. He turned to his radio and flipped to
the nearest rock station and turned it up to a point he knew wouldn’t get
Paul’s attention.

His
cell phone vibrated loudly from his desk and he dutifully retrieved it. Nick
saw a text message left from his brother that contained an apology and a notice
that he wouldn’t be home until late. Nick merely sent back his acknowledgement
and his assurance that everything would be fine. Afterward he dropped it on the
floor and shut his eyes. All he tried to think of was the music he let wash
over him.

---*---

7:40 PM

Bothell, Washington

Drake
walked down the staircase of his home and into the kitchen; all the while he
followed the scent of fresh pasta, bread, and vegetables. His father was on the
phone while he finished preparing their meal.

“I
have to agree with you there, Jonathan, their demand is a bit too risky, it is
a big investment, and I know neither you nor I feel it would be worth the cost
anyway,” Tony spoke through his headset.

As
his father finished up business, Drake found the pile of mail and flipped
through to see if anything interesting had come. All they ever received were
advertisements and the occasional letter from family or friends, as their
newspaper and magazine subscriptions all came through electronic readers. Their
bills came through his father’s email, all business related materials were at
his father’s office, and coupons for local grocery stores came through both of
their email addresses. The busiest times of the year for their mailbox were
elections and tax season.

However
Drake did find a letter from his pen pal from South Korea. Drake befriended the
young man when he was in grade school as part of an assignment, though in the
end he was the only one of his classmates to strike up a lasting friendship
with his buddy. They only used physical mail because his

He
immediately tore open the envelope and began to read the letter,