Lab Rat part 61

Posted: March 25, 2011 in Fiction, Test Subject

“I’m not sure but that might be a new record for me. My first flight wasn’t this bad. I must have crashed pretty hard.”

“So you can fly, huh?” Dad cuts back in. “What else is new, son?” There’s that flat expression like he’s waiting to catch me in a lie.

“Sometimes I can fly. Other times I can change gravity.” I hold up my injector. “I’ve read minds and burned like the sun. Depends on what’s in here.” He gives me a hard look. “You saw the news, Dad. I was flying. They shot me down with helicopters. I pulled an entire car lot into the sky.”

“I hate to break it to you, Ash, but the only thing they have on the news is the explosion on Auto Row.”

“Then Johnson and his guys got to the news outlet. You really think I’d make this up?” I hold up my left wrist. “Do you need proof?” I know I’m in no shape to use anything I’ve got loaded, but I need help getting my vest back. Spiral fractures take a long time to heal. Time I’m not convinced I have.

“Tell me about Doctor Allison,” he says. I know he’s an investigator of sorts, but talking to Johnson has left a bad taste in my mouth. I steer the conversation away.

“How did you even find me?” I trace one of the charred lines of skin on my arm. Jennifer grabs my good foot and shakes her head at me.

“I got a message saying you were in trouble and that I should check the news.” He pulls a phone out of his khakis and fiddles with it. The sender’s number looks like Taryn’s.

“Did anyone follow you here? Those D.O.D. guys are probably still after me.”

“Who exactly do you think yer talking to, kid? I know how to play this game.” He smiles. I relax a little. “So the Department of Defense wants your bling, huh? And Allison is the creator of said bling?” I nod. It’s so weird to hear Dad talk in slang. At least he’s using it right, I guess. “So where’s our good doctor now? No offense, honey,” He winks at Jennifer.

“Last I saw her, she was falling into the city. I planned on going after her, but I was sidetracked by sidewinders.”

“Helicopters don’t carry sidewinders. Falling? From what?”

“Me. I lost my grip on her and we were five hundred or so feet up.”

“You sure she survived this fall?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. For one thing, she sent you that message. For another, she had just survived sustained fire from whatever guns those choppers were packing and a trip through the rotors of one of them.” I let a little smile show. Dad’s eyebrow raises. I’ve managed to surprise him. I’ve never done that before.

“Jennifer, honey, what’s in those cartridges on his wrist?” Okay, maybe I haven’t surprised him. Maybe he just thinks I’m high.

“A lot of stuff previously deemed unstable and even deadly, but in combinations I’ve never seen before.”

“Is he getting high on this stuff?”

“Doubtful. Maybe it’s the morphine.”

“Guys, I’m sitting right here! And I’m not getting high!” There is the rush that comes with having power, but now isn’t the time to talk about that. Damn it, I need to get that vest. I need to find Allie. Taryn. “Shit.” I don’t swear out loud around my father much. His eyes narrow at me. “Sorry.”

I did this one up in advance. As I typed in my little personal blurb, I got a call for a job interview. Needless to say, I was elated. I’ve got a little bit of a buffer in terms of the skrilla (money for you non-hoodlums) but it’s uncomfortable to be unemployed. Hopefully this won’t impact my plans to hit up an SCA event, but the spice must flow. You’re reading this two days behind, so the next post should have the results of my interview. In other news, my memory is hammering me in my unguarded moments. 

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