The faceless man fretted as he watched Melissa tumble backward and hit her head against the wooden frame of her bed. He did not want to believe misfortune had befallen him again. He refused to believe he would not even be offered the opportunity to propose friendship to her before she went still forever as the others did. He immediately rushed through her window and into her bedroom and put his face close to hers. He felt her breath on his face. She lived! And he would have his chance with her.

But they could not stay at her house. Too many people came and went from it. Moreover, he had seen Gabriel loafing about on the rooftop of her garage just beyond her bedroom window not long ago. He had been there once and he was confident he would return. After all, their kind could not afford to shun friends. He could not risk Gabriel returning and taking her from him. He realized that they needed to leave.

The faceless man bent down and wrapped his arms around Melissa’s waist then stood up effortlessly. With her slung over his shoulder, he descended the staircase and walked to the door in the family room at the rear of her house. He crossed her property and went directly to her neighbor’s back door.

Once inside, he began to panic. He worried she would shriek, or attack him with a mop, or a rolling pin. He worried she’d be cruel. He simply did not want a repeat of any of the negative incidents he had survived. He did not want to get hurt again. He wanted an opportunity to demonstrate that he was a friend; that he was going to be her best friend. She would love him and see he would never harm her. But he needed time to exhibit such sentiments. His inability to speak slowed his ability to communicate effectively.

He rested Melissa on a lumpy couch in the living room careful to turn her on her side and elevate her head then scrambled to the garage. He scanned the area for rope, did not see it right away. He began to dig through a variety of gardening tools. He moved a wheelbarrow, gardening gloves, a watering can and a stack of dust-covered issues of Gardening Digest before happening upon a neatly coiled length of rope.

He lifted Melissa and placed her in a wooden rocking chair that sat alongside the lumpy couch. He tied her hands behind her back and bound her feet together. In such a position, she would pose less of a threat to him, she could not hurt him.

He regretted tethering her like an animal but he needed time and wanted to avoid being attacked again. He did not want history to repeat itself.

He seated himself on the couch and watched as her eyes began to dart behind her eyelids. She started to stir. She moved her head from side to side and her eyes opened wide with fright.

Panic seized the faceless man. He dove over the back of the couch and hid behind it. He closed his eyes and pulled his knees to his chest and silently hoped she would accept him. She was his last chance.

MELISSA REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS and immediately recoiled from the nightmarish presence before her. She attempted to raise her hands to protect her head that smarted from the beast before her but realized they were bound behind her back. Then, for reasons unknown to her, the beast darted behind the couch.

She did not know how much time had passed or what exactly had happened to her, only that a monster had tied her to a rocking chair and that the back of her head throbbed. She looked around and attempted to search for clues that would divulge her whereabouts.

Her eyes studied the room, sweeping from left to right. A pair of upturned orthopedic shoes in the far corner of the room caught her attention. She squinted her eyes against the weak lighting of the room and saw that the orthopedic shoes were worn by plump legs that lay inert surrounded by a pool of dark fluid. Sheer panic set in as Melissa realized that her kindly next-door neighbor, Miss Harriet, was facedown, dead.

Her mind shut down, refused to acknowledge or process what was happening. She suppressed the urge to scream, but instinct suggested it would do no good. Furthermore, she did not want the creature to spring from his hiding place and attack her. She needed to act subtly and try to free herself.

She wiggled and rubbed her arms in an up-and-down motion and felt a slight give in the roping. While she manipulated her arms, she caught a glimpse of the creature cowering behind the couch. It poked its awful head up and looked at her, then hid again. It repeated this twice and resembled a hideous version of the beloved whack-a-mole game offered at carnivals, except she did not have a mallet with which to strike and doubted she possessed the speed and strength required to dominate it.

The creature persisted peeking at her intermittently for quite some time. She did not understand the purpose of its perpetual peeping and disappearing. It almost seemed afraid of her. But such a notion seemed nonsensical. After all, it had murdered Miss Harriet.

Each time it spied from the concealment of Miss Harriet’s bumpy couch, it lingered longer and longer, revealing more details of its construct. She began to detect something very familiar about it.

And then it hit her. Recognition and realization gelled. She knew where she’d see it before. Five months ago in the underground laboratory of Dr. Franklin Stein, she and Gabriel had seen a partially formed human being in a stainless-steel development tank. Its face had haunted her since. She wondered why she hadn’t recognized it immediately. She supposed some protective measure rooted deeply in her brain engaged itself and forbade her from connecting the two occurrences. She never imagined she would see the creature again save for her mind’s eye, wouldn’t have needed to; its image was seared into her memory. It had resembled a gigantic fetus in its eighth week of development.

Now, however, only insignificant changes had occurred. Gauzy-looking skin barely sheathed the veins and capillaries that bulged in an elaborate matrix throughout his body. Small, thinly lidded eyes had been tightly shut when in the tank but now spied at her through a thick, milky film that shrouded them. She did not remember if it had a nose then, did not see one now; just two holes she guessed functioned as nasal passages. It did not appear to have lips either, though a line that formed where they should have resided implied some type of opening existed beyond it.

As the creature continued its game of peekaboo with her, she pondered whether Stein had released it early from its fluid-filled development tank to kill her. But her question only gave rise to another question. If it had been released and dispatched to kill her, then why was she still alive?

Question after question swirled in her head. She was stunned when she realized it had emerged from its hiding place behind Miss Harriet’s sofa. It moved toward her slowly, cautiously, with its arms extended in front of it, hands up with palms facing her in a gesture of surrender. It looked even worse out of the tank than it had in it. Its torso was large and curved, lending it the overall impression of crouching as it advanced. Melissa wanted desperately to scream, to cry out in fear. Its webbed fingers, though raised submissively, were attached to formidable hands, dangerous hands. It approached slowly, but she knew it was capable of far swifter movements, its body betrayed its strength. Its flimsy-looking skin did little to hide the thick, ropey muscles in his arms, legs and torso.

She wondered why it didn’t simply kill her, why it was drawing out her death, prolonging the moment before it struck.

A fleeting thought crossed her mind. She didn’t believe it had much merit, but still wondered whether Dr. Stein had left it behind or whether it had escaped. Such a thought seemed implausible, impossible. Why would it come to her if it had been left behind or had escaped Stein?

Suddenly she heard herself addressing it in a calm, rational tone that sounded contradictory to what she was feeling.

The creature responded with shock initially, narrowing its eyes and creasing the space between them as its head shot back as if upset by the mere implication. Clearly astounded and possibly hurt by her queries, it began shaking its head from side to side in disagreement.

Melissa realized it could not communicate verbally, that gestures and its facial expression would have to suffice. More importantly, it did not appear to want to hurt her. In fact, it looked pathetic.

“Untie me,” she ordered the creature. “I have to leave. Why are you keeping me prisoner?” she asked, but knew he could not explain.

It immediately began pacing. Her question had clearly raised conflict within him; its back and forth walking in the limited space between the couch and rocking chair indicated as such. It scrunched its meager features as it strode, appeared genuinely distraught.

To Melissa’s surprise, it dropped to its knees and placed its two hands together in front of it. Though she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t praying to some foreign deity Stein had manufactured in his lab, she felt confident his body language was beseeching, that he was begging her to stay. Then it rose to its feet and gestured with one hand, scooping into an imaginary bowl then bringing it to its mouth. It appeared to be asking her if she was hungry.

Melissa could not believe it had the audacity to think she wanted to eat! She had been kidnapped and tied to her murdered neighbor’s rocking chair. Food was the farthest thing from her mind.

Survival instinct overtook her. She began thrashing, tilting the rocking chair from side to side rather than back and forth.

The creature briefly looked as though it had been slapped. Stunned stillness precipitated a wounded expression on face. Its posture suggested that her outburst had hurt it. Its shoulders slumped dejectedly. It lowered its head woefully.

Slowly, it walked past her, picked up a remote control that sat atop the coffee table and turned on the television then ran from the room like a child.

Melissa’s mind felt as though it were teetering on the apex of great precipice, that at any moment it would plunge into an unfathomable void from which there was no return. People created in tanks with superior DNA, genius geneticists who sought to transform humanity, a monster that wanted to feed her and keep her like a pet, all of it was madness, an incalculable departure from sanity. She could not, and would not, remain where she was. She began feverishly rubbing her arms together to loosen her restraints but to no avail. They were tightly knotted. The minuscule give she felt was for her comfort and nothing else.

After several moments passed and the creature didn’t return, she called out to it, asked it to come back. When it did, she begged it to let her go, to release her. It did not gesture or wave. It ran away from her.

She wobbled wildly once again and toppled the rocking chair. From her position on the floor, she was afforded a clearer view of the late Miss Harriet. Melissa began to cry. She sobbed for quite some time, she was uncertain of how long. Mercifully, mental exhaustion overtook her and she drifted off to sleep.

GABRIEL AWAKENED SEVERAL times during the night. His sleep was fitful, filled with the same dream that repeated continually, looping like a film reel until finally interrupted by the sound of his own protests.

In his sleep, he would see her clearly. She sat atop a picnic table, bathed in a golden glow. The natural highlights in her hair shimmered, haloing her like a gilded crown. Her eyes blazed green as emeralds fired by sunlight. She was breathtaking. Before her lay rolling hills colored in shades of red, yellow and orange. He knew the place, had been there with her in the fall less than half a year earlier. But in his dreams, it was not he that was with Melissa. She was with another. She sat with her knees nearly touching him, the tall and thin boy with dark hair.

Gabriel called to her to get her attention and let her know he was there but she did not hear him. He moved closer, stood right beside her and called to her once again. Still, she did not respond. He reached out and tried to touch her only his hand passed through as powerless and weightless as a shadow. He called out to the boy with the dark hair, called him by name. Eric heard him and turned his head. As he looked to Gabriel, his face was not Eric’s. Instead, he had feline features. Widely spaced eyes the color of honey stared at him challengingly and his thin mouth twisted into a cruel smile. He reached his hands out and grabbed Melissa by the throat and began to squeeze. Melissa did not fight. Gabriel swung at him but his blows were ineffective, nonexistent.

Each time he woke he was screaming, drenched in perspiration and left with the same sinking feeling. He was certain Eugene had not been the person he saw with Melissa in her bedroom the night before. He did not believe Eric intended to choke her. But the thought of Eric’s arms around her, and hers around him, gave him an unparalleled feeling of dread, of misery. He did not blame her for moving on. He could not fault her for seeking comfort from someone else. He had been gone for a long time. After what they had been through together, after the traumatic events leading up to his departure, he understood her need for protection, for warmth. What he did not understand was her decision to be with Eric. Eric and his friends were who he had fought, who he had protected her from. For Melissa to have Eric as her boyfriend, she would have had to forgive him of his long list of transgressions against her. Gabriel knew Melissa to be a sympathetic and compassionate person, but marveled at the notion that even she could possess the capacity to overlook the things Eric had done to her.

The sun had not yet risen when Gabriel finally gave up on sleep and resigned to shower and dress for the day. A few hours later, Yoshi woke and knocked on his motel room door. After a quick breakfast, complements of the motel and a trip to the mall, they drove back to Harbingers Falls and parked in the lot behind Harbingers High School and waited.

From the driver’s side of the Cherokee, Gabriel watched as former classmates came and went. No one recognized him as they passed, despite his rather unoriginal disguise. Dark sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead served as his concealment.

Seeing students he used to socialize with in his early days at Harbingers High School caused an unexpected pang of sadness. Their faces and the hustle and bustle of racing to class brought to mind the first time he saw Melissa, how she stood out among them. The pang quickly transitioned to a squeezing feeling in his chest that traveled the length of his neck and constricted his throat.

His reaction was suspended as he saw Yoshi’s small frame moving against the tide of students that swelled toward the rear entrance just as the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. He bobbed like a buoy in breakers, his face expressive, his gestures animated. When finally freed from the chaos of the crowd, Yoshi looked over his shoulder in exasperation then climbed in to Gabriel’s waiting SUV.

“She’s not in there,” Yoshi declared. “I spoke to a few people and no one had seen her. Two of the kids I talked to had classes with her this morning but she never showed.”

“Why wouldn’t she be in school today?” Gabriel said more to himself that Yoshi. “If something happened to her,” he did not finish his sentence and instead slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

“I hate to say this, but I also asked about that Eric Sala kid and he isn’t in school today either.”

Though he was hurt by the realization that Melissa and Eric were absent together, he felt the bit of relief that she was likely skipping school with her boyfriend and was probably fine. Gabriel felt the sinking feeling return and silently chastised himself for being so ill-equipped to deal with her moving on.

“Sorry man,” Yoshi began but was immediately distracted. “Whoa, who’s that?” he asked but Gabriel didn’t bother turning. He was descending into a dark, depressive depth he’d never been before.

“She’s the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen,” Yoshi admired. “I’ve seen the beautiful women of America, you know, the actresses and models, but she is, wow, she’s gorgeous.”

Gabriel was only half listening to his friend as a flash of black streaked past him. He would have missed it if he hadn’t looked up at the moment he did. Lengths of raven hair trailed a female figure, a familiar figure, just two cars away. He lowered his window and heard a string of profanities issued and instantly knew who it was.

Alex Geogopolous huddled against her red 2010 Ford Mustang and swore as she fumbled for her keys. Gabriel couldn’t help but laugh. Alex was unaccustomed to the responsibility of key location, and car possession in general because, despite having the car for some time, Alex continually lost her privilege to drive it as a result of her foul mouth and resistance to the imposition of her parent’s rules, or at least that’s what Melissa had told him when he’d asked about her frequent presence in Daniella’s front seat.

On impulse, he got out of the car with Yoshi in tow and approached her. Yoshi’s mouth stood open, his eyes wide as he walked toward her.

She looked up and immediately recognized him. With a broad smile, she embraced him then promptly stepped back.

“Gabriel!” she said excitedly. “What the fuck, you’re back? Where’s Melissa?”

“She’s not with me. She must be with her boyfriend,” Gabriel said as diplomatically as he could.

“Come on, Alex, you don’t have to pretend. I know about him and I’m not thrilled, but I get it.”

“Hold on, Gabriel. You may think you know something, but you are way off,” she said testily.

“First of all, I am not a liar, and second of all, how dare you even say that about Melissa when all she’s done for the last five months is whine and moan about you, waiting for you to come back.”

“I saw them! I saw her with him, with my own two eyes. And so did he,” Gabriel said and gestured to Yoshi who stood beside him.

“Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about or what you think you saw, but she definitely does not have a boyfriend.”

“Alex, stop it. I know okay, I know about Eric Sala, that she’s dating him.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind!” she exploded. “You must be if you think she’d date that asshole! You must have taken up smoking crack while you were gone if something that fucking stupid sounds right to you!”

“We saw them together at her house, on her bed. They were hugging,” Gabriel spat. “Tell her Yoshi.”

Gabriel turned to Yoshi expecting him to deliver a full report to Alex. But instead of a detailed account of what he saw at Melissa’s, he simply stood, as if frozen, with his lips slightly parted, unblinking, staring at Alex.

Yoshi remained silent as if entranced by Alex’s presence. The only discernible change in his demeanor was his coloring. His cheeks flushed to a shade of scarlet Gabriel had only seen him wear when training intensely.

Finally, his friend responded with pressured speech that was almost unintelligible.

“We saw them at her house,” he said firing the words in rapid succession before tuning a deeper shade of garnet.

“What?” Alex asked incredulously. “There’s no way. I don’t know what you think you saw, but I would know if she was hanging out with Eric.”

“I don’t know. I was getting a little worried she was sick or something because I’ve been calling her cell phone since last night and she hasn’t returned any of my calls.”

“That’s because she’s with Eric,” Gabriel enunciated each word to punctuate his point. “Eric isn’t in school today either. You do the math.”

“Well, we are going to find her. I don’t care who she’s dating,” Gabriel lied. “I just need to make sure she’s safe.”

“No. Just stay here. I don’t want you cutting school and getting your car taken away again.”

“If something’s wrong with my friend and you think I’m staying here, you’re definitely on crack,” she asserted then tapped her foot impatiently.

Gabriel unlocked the Cherokee with a push of a button on his keychain. The car beeped twice and the headlights flashed.

Alex called out “Shotgun!” then proceeded to climb into the front seat. Yoshi stood with his hands out, palms facing upward with a look of bewilderment on his face. Shocked by the turn of events, he reluctantly assumed his seat in the rear of the vehicle.

Gabriel climbed into the driver’s seat, turned the key in the ignition and they left the grounds of Harbingers High School in search of Melissa.

THE FACELESS MAN HID in the kitchen as Melissa napped on the floor of the living room. He’d heard her struggle before a loud crash had sounded. He had covered his ears, terrified of the noise. When silence had followed, he’d thought it safe to remove his hands. He had peeked around the corner into the living room and had seen the rocking chair overturned, had heard her sobbing. He had covered his ears and curled into a ball once again on the cold, vinyl flooring.

He remained, in a bowed position, for an undefined amount of time, uncertain of many things. All he knew was that the sobbing had ceased and that the house was far brighter.

Long shadows stretched languidly across the dingy dark-yellow walls. Scary shapes emerged from oddly shaped appliances, made it difficult for him to relax, to rest.

He had fretted incessantly throughout the night, fretted still. Things were not going as he’d hoped they would and he was destroying his last chance at friendship.

He tensed briefly in his bent pose then released his hand from its resting place between his knees, retracted it and promptly thumped it against his temple. He silently scolded himself for being such a fool. He drew his fist back farther and punched himself a second time in frustration.

He gradually pushed himself up to a seated position. His head throbbed, his hand ached. He felt sad for himself.

He had not had an easy stretch of time. He had held Melissa captive for an entire night. He knew that friends did not do things like that; they did not hold one another hostage for hours on end. He was uncertain of the details of friendship, of the specifications entailed in such a social contract, but he was sure kidnapping and captivity were not included within them. But he’d had no other option. If he had untied her, she would have fled. Even still, he knew if were were to march into the living room and cut the rope from her wrists and ankles, she would run away from him, run away forever to Gabriel and forget all about him. He did not want to be abandoned or forgotten.

In an effort to prevent such an occurrence, he had attempted several times during the night to make her understand that his intentions were innocent, that he wanted to make her more comfortable and happy. He wanted her to see that she’d been contented by friendship with him, that he was pleasing. But each time he appeared, she would become agitated and upset. The sound of her crying, her tear-riddled pleas for release, were more than he could bear. She hadn’t been cruel like the other horrible people he’d encountered but she was very emotional.

Her emotional state did not appear overly volatile. She did not seem as though she would attack him with a mop, or a rolling pin, or her hands, but she did seem as if she was intent on leaving. She had said repeatedly that she wanted to leave.

His hurt motivated him to try harder, though. Sitting on the vinyl floor patterned with mustard and brown-colored flowers and trailed with alarming, darkened shapes, the faceless man resolved to try again. He had to. She needed to see that he needed her and that he would be the best friend she would ever have, that he would never disappoint her.

The faceless man rose to his feet and straightened his posture as much as his curved torso allowed. He walked to the sink and turned on both faucets. He touched the stream of water that flowed gingerly. Once confident he would not burn his delicate skin, he cupped his hands and filled them with water and began splashing it on his face. He wanted to cleanse himself before his final attempt at convincing her. He pumped soap from the dispenser and scrubbed his entire head before dispensing more to just his forefinger then running it across his small, pointed teeth. Hygiene could only help matters.

When he felt he’d been sufficiently cleaned, he walked slowly into the living room. He saw her on the floor. She rested on her side with the rocking chair tipped over. She saw him as well. Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

He wondered how she could do such a thing to him, to cry at the sight of him. He felt sympathy for her predicament but at the same time felt entitled to happiness. She was the linchpin to his happiness yet she cried. The entire arrangement presented a conundrum. The only point that was clear to him was that he could not endure more crying. Her tears pained him too greatly. And he did not deserve to be pained.

“Where are you going?” she asked him between sobs. “Please don’t leave!”

Her desperate weeping was dreadful. The faceless man began to feel his heart rate accelerate dangerously at the sound of it. His breathing became shallow and his brow dampened with beads of perspiration. In his stomach, it felt as though thousands of butterflies emerged from their chrysalides and beat their wings against its lining. He needed to leave, immediately.

He turned on his heels then on legs that trembled, he ran back to the safety of the kitchen.

Melissa continued to cry; he could still hear her. He didn’t know what to do. He was going to have to untie her sooner or later. Untying her was the only way to earn her trust, and he knew trust was implicit in the terms of friendship. Buy if he untied her and she tried to leave or hurt him, she might be lost forever just as the others before her had been.

GABRIEL, YOSHI AND Alex turned on to Blackstone Drive. Direct sunlight blinded them as they rounded the corner and the Jeep Cherokee managed the steep incline with ease. The street was lit by afternoon light, lemon-hued, pale and dazzling. The nighttime rainfall enriched the lushness of the surrounding greenery and deepened their color to a rich shade of emerald. The landscape was a vibrant palette illuminated by pastel sunlight.

Gabriel squinted against the glare then remembered his disguise that included dark sunglasses that rested on the back seat next to Yoshi. He regretted not wearing both, but not as much as regretted leaving Harbingers Falls five months ago. He felt the same sensation of nervousness in his stomach as he had the previous night, but his current feeling was a result of uneasiness rather than anticipation. With his insides quavering, he turned in to Melissa’s driveway and immediately noticed an older model Camry parked in it.

“See, what did I tell you? That’s the same car that was here last night, Eric’s car I presume,” Gabriel told Yoshi and Alex.

“Uh, no jerkwad, that’s Melissa’s car,” she said gesturing to a late model Toyota. “Her dad let her get her license and use some of her savings to buy that thing.”

“Well maybe if you would have called her more often, you would have known,” Alex accused.

Gabriel was stunned by her words. And hurt. He did not have a biting comeback, didn’t need one. Alex was right. She was right to be mad with him just as Melissa was right to move on. He chose to disappear to one of the remotest places on Earth. The fault rested with him, for everything. He blamed himself for every moment of Melissa’s life that he’d missed, every significant event. She had needed him, but he had been gone.

Downcast, he reluctantly got out of the car and moved to the front door. Alex and Yoshi followed. Alex pushed in front of him and Yoshi and rang the doorbell. They waited several seconds. No one answered. All was quiet at the Martin residence.

“That’s because she’s not here and is probably out with Eric,” Gabriel said miserably.

Alex spun on her heels to face him. Her deep-brown eyes darkened dangerously to a smoldering onyx. She wore her anger plainly.

“She is not out with Eric!” Alex pronounced each word slowly and loudly. “You are starting to really piss me off, Gabriel! I made it clear to you back at the school that all she’s done is cry about you since you left. She’s only gone out, like, one time. She was so miserable, I was actually starting to get worried about her, and you have the balls to start this shit about Eric again!” she fumed.

“Alex, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upset you, and I believe you when you say she had a hard time after I left, but is it possible she didn’t tell you about Eric because of what happened, because maybe she thought you’d freak out about it?”

“Not possible,” Alex said confidently then added, “Forget about the Eric shit for a second if that’s possible. I’m starting to get worried. Maybe something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, if he was home but he’s away this weekend. In fact, she said she was probably going to stay with me. She didn’t want to be alone when he was gone. But she never called me. I just assumed she changed her mind or that her dad decided not to go. He’s clearly not here, and she’s not answering the door, or her phone. I’m really worried now.”

Yoshi, who had been silently observing Gabriel’s interaction with Alex, turned from them and began inspecting the exterior of the house. He stood on his tippy toes and peered into the windows of the garage.

“Alex’s right,” Yoshi said. “There’s no car in the garage, so her dad’s not here.”

“I’ll go look around back and see if there are any broken windows,” Alex added, worry lacing her words. “Or if anyone’s inside. For all we know, Melissa’s asleep on the couch.”

“So you think she’s doing it with Eric on the couch or something?” she said through her teeth.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to imply,” he stammered. “I wasn’t saying that I think she and Eric are sleeping together on the couch, Alex. Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“I meant I hope Melissa is alone, that’s all. If she’s sick, I hope he is not with her.”

Alex stared hard at Gabriel. He wondered if she were contemplating an attack of some sort until she turned from him suddenly and began walking around the house. She paused in the driveway and pointed up above it.

Gabriel looked up to the window and saw that her curtain billowed in the slight breeze, that the screen was lifted as was the pane. He felt his mind unravel like a spool of thread only the reel had disappeared, rolled off into the void, his only lead a seemingly unlimited length of ribbon he intuited he must follow.

He rushed to the oak that stood beside her house and scaled it with speed he never knew he possessed. He did not know what he rushed toward, just knew that time was somehow constrained, like an enormous hourglass had been overturned and each grain of sand that fell profoundly impacted Melissa’s fate.

Once on the roof of the garage, he quickly scrambled up the shingles and dove headlong into her opened window.

Gabriel did not respond right away. He looked around her room, processing every detail of its condition. The room was in shambles. Melissa had never been the neatest of people but the room was messy by her standards. The chair by her desk that sat just under the window had been knocked over. Her purse sat atop her dresser and her cell phone beeped from beneath a sweater.

He did not search the basement. Instead, he opened the front door. Alex burst through, her eyeliner-rimmed eyes brimming with tears.

“Why didn’t you answer me?” she screamed. “Didn’t you hear me call you? She’s not there is she? But something happened. I can see it on your face.”

“Calm down, Alex. Let me check downstairs then we’ll be certain she’s not here, okay?”

Gabriel stepped from the foyer into the main hallway followed by Yoshi and Alex and opened a door along the wall. Beyond the entryway was a painted, wooden flight of steps leading to the basement.

Once the door was opened, he was immediately greeted with silence. The silence unsettled him, profoundly. He remembered the last time he entered the Martin household and was met with preternatural stillness. Death had not claimed a loved one then, he hoped it did not claim one now. He would not survive Melissa’s demise. And in the darkest recesses of his core, he felt Melissa was in danger.

With Melissa’s imperiled image in his mind, he stepped cautiously from each tread to the next and held fast to the guardrails on either side of the partially finished staircase. He stepped off the last rung of the staircase and on to the black linoleum flooring. He found the light switch and turned on the overhead fixtures then quickly surveyed the room. The furnishing remained the same. A weight bench and an array of free-weight plates and bars, a Bowflex exercise machine, a treadmill, an elliptical trainer and a power cage were exactly as they when last he saw them.

The open floor plan afforded him an unobstructed view of the entire room. Melissa was not there.

“This is bizarre, Gabriel,” Alex said in a composed voice. “Where the hell could she be?”

“I know you think I’m overreacting about this, that she’s just off with that douche, Eric. But I really feel something is wrong here.”

“Let’s go back upstairs to Melissa’s room and see if there’s anything to suggest her whereabouts,” Yoshi offered.

“Good idea, Yoshi. Come on Alex,” Gabriel said and gestured for both she and Yoshi to go ahead of him up the staircase.

At the top of the basement steps, he closed the door behind him and paused to listen. The house was still except for the hum and whir of major appliances in the kitchen.

Alex and Yoshi moved quickly up the main staircase in the house toward Melissa’s room. Gabriel scanned Christopher Martin’s room. Nothing appeared to be disturbed. The spare bedroom remained untouched as well. Just Melissa’s room was in a state of disarray.

“What the fuck?” Alex exclaimed as she entered Melissa’s bedroom. She covered her mouth with both hands and a pained expression overtook her aspect.

“It looks like there was a struggle,” Yoshi observed then moved to the overturned chair. “See here, where the chair is turned over is right below the open window.”

Gabriel noticed the chair as soon as he climbed through the window. He narrowly avoided injury because of its positioning. Hearing Yoshi formally catalog each suspicious characteristic of the room justified his growing concern, exacerbated it.

Alex bent down and picked up her friend’s cellular phone. She touched the screen causing it to illuminate instantly. Her fingertips moved quickly as she tapped at the monitor before reporting her findings.

“Eleven missed calls. They are divided pretty evenly between my cell number, her dad’s and Daniella’s,” she said then added, “And there are no numbers on here that I don’t recognize so your stupid Eric theory is just that, stupid.”

“It is!” Alex confirmed. “Something terrible has happened. Melissa would never leave without her cell phone and purse.”

“It’s Kevin,” Gabriel heard himself say. He had been thinking it all along but was loath to speak the words aloud for fear that verbalization might somehow validate his suspicions. He knew his thought process had been irrational, foolish even, but an indescribable presentiment warned him that Kevin and his friends were somehow connected to all that had happened.

“That’s the guy you read about at the Internet café, right?” Yoshi questioned.

“Yes and yes. He is the guy I read about,” he said to Yoshi then looked to Alex and said, “I think they’re involved, directly or indirectly.”

“We can’t do that,” Gabriel cautioned. “All we have here is an open window and a cell phone. And also, I’m not supposed to be here, remember?”

“You know, the house I lived in when I was in Harbingers Falls with Stein. Think about it, it would be the perfect place to take her. It’s abandoned, secluded and no one but me would think to go there and look for her. And they think I’m gone.”

“Let’s not waste time standing around,” Alex stated as she exited Melissa’s bedroom, strode to the steps and out the front door.

Gabriel and Yoshi followed. They all climbed into Gabriel’s rented Jeep and traveled to the house he’d lived in with Dr. Franklin Stein just five months earlier.

The drive took less than ten minutes. The Jeep mastered the narrow, winding roads of Harbingers Falls as if it perceived the intended route, hugging each sharp turn and adjusting to varying road conditions expertly. When finally he reached the private road that doubled as his driveway during his earliest days, a familiar knot twisted in his stomach. He turned down the long, gravel-filled path and his former residence came into view. The house, constructed with cream-colored brick and trimmed in forest green, was a Victorian Gothic-style structure. It had been constructed from materials of different colors and textures and displayed ornate carvings in a foliated pattern. Pointed arch windows and doors highlighted potential entryways for curious teenagers looking for a deserted place to hang out and party. An expansive deck wrapped around from the front of the house to the rear and was filled with leaves and debris. Even in a state of abandonment, the overall appearance of the house was stately, impressive.

Gabriel drove them to the end of the long driveway and parked outside the three-car garage port.

“It is pretty impressive,” Yoshi chimed in and thumped Gabriel on the back. Yoshi was the only one among them who knew the details of Gabriel’s origins and of his stay in Harbingers Falls. He also knew of what lay beneath the grounds of the grand Victorian.

After exiting the car, they climbed the steps of the porch and Gabriel produced a key. Though the house had not changed much on the outside save for a broken window, the inside had undergone tremendous change. Books had been toppled from built-in, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the exquisite furniture had been defaced with cigarette burns and food stains, beer cans littered the once-pristine hardwood flooring and a suspicious odor he could not place lingered in the air.

He watched as Alex walked around inspecting his former home. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone here, now,” she observed. “But I’m guessing there are, like, a million places she could be in this place.”

“Yeah, and there weren’t any cars on the property or surrounding area,” Yoshi offered. “I don’t think she’s here, man.”

“Well, let’s look here in the house first. Then we can look elsewhere,” Gabriel said ambiguously. “Obviously, this place has been someone’s hangout. And Kevin, Chris, John and Eric were the only people other than Melissa that knew where I lived.”

“I’ll look in the downstairs,” Yoshi said. “Gabriel, why don’t you start on this floor?”

Each began their respective search. Gabriel unearthed nothing of interest. He found ashtray and empty cigarette boxes, more beer cans and bottles and an abundance of trash that ranged from gum wrappers to empty potato chip bags. Nothing stood out as evidence that Melissa had been there.

“Oh my God!” Alex screamed from upstairs. She repeated the phrase continually in the same terrified pitch until Gabriel flew up the staircase and down a long corridor to his former room. Yoshi arrived seconds after he did. They flanked a trembling Alex and looked in the direction she pointed.

Before them, in what once existed as Gabriel’s closet, was Eric Sala. His body slumped lifelessly against the far wall. Bruises covered the ashen skin of his face, neck and arms mottling him with discolorations of varying shades and sizes. His eyes stared straight ahead in a perpetual expression of vacancy. But his mouth betrayed the vacuous, drawn appearance of his eyes for it remained open, as if screaming silently in horror.

Alex finally stopped screaming, shock seemed to have settled upon her. Her skin had paled unhealthily and in a trembling voice she said, “I can’t believe what I’m looking at. I mean, he’s–he’s dead.”

“He looks like he was beaten to death,” Yoshi added softly, unable to look away from the horrendous display before him.

But Gabriel hardly heard them over the thundering in his ears. His mind raced as terrifying, unthinkable scenarios played out. He began to panic.

He sprinted out of the room and inspected the remaining three on the floor, entering and searching closet spaces and corners.

“Gabriel, you okay?” Yoshi asked. “I know he wasn’t your friend or anything but that was gruesome.”

Sweat dappled his forehead as he feverishly tore off dusty bedding from beds and stooped to look under them.

“Don’t’ you get it, Yoshi?” he began. “If something happened to her, to Melissa, I saw her and could have stopped it.”

“We both saw her and how could we have predicted or stopped something like that.”

“Guys!” she called. “Guys, we have to go, now! It’s them! They’re here!”

She stood looking out a large window in the center of the corridor and pointed with a shaky hand to the long, gravel-filled driveway beyond its pane. A sleek black Infiniti Sports Coupe sped brazenly down the pathway and raced toward the house.

“We’ve got to leave Gabriel, now! They’ll kill us! They’ll kill us, too!” Alex shrieked.

Pure, unadulterated rage began to course through Gabriel’s veins. It throbbed and hummed through him like an electrical current, connecting and awakening every cell in his body. His senses felt heighten, charged beyond their extraordinary capacity. Every part of him hissed and crackled like high-voltage live wiring, exposed, dangerous.

He descended the staircase, took two at a time, until he reached the landing. He positioned himself before the front door. He fortified his stance, and waited.

Kevin Anderson opened the unlocked front door. John and Chris trailed behind him. As he stepped through the threshold, a look of shock flashed across his features. His face revealed that he did not expect to see Gabriel waiting, readied, on the other side of the door. Gabriel watched as he instantly regained his composure and smiled sardonically at him.

“Don’t know, but now that you’re back, she’s dead,” Kevin said confidently.

Gabriel struggled to control the rage that surged inside him and refrained from fighting Kevin in that moment; to do so would have been reckless. He needed information; he needed to know where Melissa was.

“You know where she is, Kevin,” Gabriel accused. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to beat it out of you?”

“Oh no, you’re scaring me, Gabriel,” Kevin mocked. “Ha! You’re a joke. And you don’t even realize that once you’re dead–and you will be dead very soon–we’re going to kill her, too!”

“Temper, temper Gabriel!” Kevin warned. “We’re different than we used to be. We have the same modifications you have, and there are three of us and just one-and-a-half of you.” He gestured to Yoshi and laughed. “We’re stronger and faster than you. You’re the one at the disadvantage now.”

Kevin began to laugh, a strange, staccato laugh. Everything about him, his posture, his facial expressions, his attitude and mannerisms, was different. Gabriel had had several run-ins with him in the past; he’d never behaved as he did now. He had possessed a swagger in the past, but never the courage or means to back it up.

Gabriel moved boldly toward Kevin, disregarding the considerably height discrepancy.

Without hesitation, Kevin charged at him, moving faster than Gabriel remembered, faster than was human. Midstride, Kevin extended his formidable arm and swung his fist at him. His athletic rapidity and reflexes was far quicker than Gabriel remembered, more coordinated. Yet Kevin maintained his aimless, emotional style. He remained careless, sloppy. And though Kevin’s disordered attack was swift, Gabriel perceived it as if it were happening in slow motion, how Kevin sprung forward punching with his right fist while his left knee lunged ahead, vulnerable, exposed.

Gabriel immediately capitalized on Kevin’s weakness, his careless approach, and turned on the ball of his foot while the other launched out and drove directly into Kevin’s kneecap. A sickly snapping sound reverberated through the abandoned Victorian followed by a howl of pain as Kevin began falling to the floor. But before his body ever touched the once gleaming hardwoods, Gabriel hurled a roundhouse kick. His airborne foot connected with Kevin’s face just as his splintered leg met with the floor below him. His body jerked backward on impact and his large frame was thrust against the interior wall of the vestibule. As he slammed into the wall, he knocked a massive oil painting from its supports. It crashed down atop his head just as he collapsed to the floor. He did not move or stir as consciousness seeped from him.

“I guess some things never change,” he muttered as he regarded Kevin’s still form huddled against the wall.

Gabriel assessed that despite modifications evidenced by Kevin’s improved strength and speed, his abilities still remained superior in every sense. His training in Motuo County served to further enhance his genetic aptitude, to refine his talents. Hours spent training with Yoshi and his father in the ancient martial art of Kalarippayattu sharpened his awareness of his surroundings and opponents, reinforced his reaction time and reflexes, improved his flexibility and offered him a stratospheric level of combat proficiency.

The sound of footsteps behind him caused Gabriel to turn and glance up. As he did, he saw that Chris and John had descended upon Yoshi. He quickly moved to assist his friend.

John challenged Yoshi and clearly operated on the assumption that his enhanced might would be sufficient to best his diminutive adversary. Gabriel noticed from the corner of his eye how he swung with tremendous force but wildly, making plain that he possessed strength but lacked strategy. Yoshi, on the other hand, bobbed and weaved as if he anticipated John’s every move avoiding blow after blow with speed and dexterity. Yoshi handled the genetically augmented athlete who outweighed him by roughly one hundred pounds and stood nearly a foot taller adroitly, expertly. John did not show signs of physical exhaustion but Yoshi appeared tired by toying with his opponent. He quickly switched from avoiding blows to deflecting them, and answering them. Within seconds, Yoshi demonstrated the power of his extensive training and landed direct shot after direct shot in succession until John, bested, fell to the floor a huddled heap of defeat.

Chris, seeing his friend go down, circled Gabriel tentatively, as if formulating a plan of some sort. Whatever plan he may or may not have intended to execute was swiftly upended when Gabriel surprised him and attacked first, striking him in the torso. Chris doubled over immediately and clutched his midsection. As he hunched forward, Gabriel placed the entirety of his might behind his fist and punched him in the face. The blow knocked him from his knees to the floor. His body flopped sideways then fell still.

Gabriel and Yoshi, saturated with adrenaline, were prepared to topple anyone who attempted to stand. Neither spoke but both remained intensely focused breathing in short, quick breaths. But a strange squeal diverted their readied concentration. The sound bordered on delight and repulsion and came from the landing at the bottom of the staircase.

Alex stood perfectly still with her hands covering her mouth, her eyes round. Gabriel could not tell whether she was happy or horrified.

She did not respond but went silent instead. Fearing shock, Gabriel rushed to her with Yoshi steps behind him. When he was just an arm’s length from her, he moved cautiously toward her, unsure if her eyes even focused on him.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed exuberantly. “That was fucking awesome! Melissa said you could fight, but I never dreamed you could do that! And Yoshi, you’re an ass-kicking machine!” Her words escaped her lips rapidly. She fired each in such quick progression, Gabriel had trouble keeping up.

Gabriel’s attention was dissuaded from Alex’s rambling to movement from Chris. He moaned audibly and waved his arm feebly. Gabriel looked to Alex who did not appear to be suffering from shock and with a nod, left her in Yoshi’s charge.

He stepped from the landing and crossed the foyer to the far corner of the passage and collared Chris by the front of his shirt.

“Where is she?” he demanded and drew his fist back and angled it to strike. “Tell me!”

“I don’t know, really. We didn’t do anything to her,” Chris said in an even voice then mumbled, “Yet.”

Ire rose within Gabriel, the likes of which he’d never felt before. His fisted hand trembled with fury as he discharged it with the force of a spring-loaded bullet, blasting it against Chris’s nose. Blood gushed from it immediately and bone rendered under the tremendous impact of his punch. Gabriel released Chris’s shirt and allowed him to fall back to the floor writhing and whimpering in pain.

He returned to where Alex and Yoshi stood and caught the tail-end of their conversation.

“Where did you guys learn to fight like that?” he heard her ask as he approached.

Yoshi face reddened to a bright shade of scarlet as he beamed at Alex’s compliment.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel answered. “I think we should go back to her house. We had to have missed something.”

“What about them?” Yoshi asked and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb to Kevin, John and Chris.

“I don’t know what to do about them, but I doubt they’ll be going anywhere for a while,” Gabriel replied.

Gabriel, Alex and Yoshi stepped around the hunched and cowered masses that were strewn about the entrance hall and out into the warm afternoon. They climbed into the Cherokee and headed back to Melissa’s house.

EUGENE PRESSED THE end button on his cellular phone and terminated his brief but informative conversation with Dr. Franklin Stein. His maker had shared news with him, news that generated a swirl of excitement within him.

In an invigorating turn of events, he was told he would not be subjected to the torturous task of waiting indefinitely for Gabriel to arrive in America and subsequently, Harbingers Falls. According to Stein, Gabriel had taken the proffered bait and returned to rescue his beloved Melissa. Gabriel was such a fool, attempting to uphold sterling moral rectitude and adhering to emotionally driven urges. Eugene felt nauseated by Gabriel’s inflated sense of righteousness and romantic impulses and felt them encroach upon his excitement, the thrill of a sanctioned murder.

Gabriel’s pathetically human emotions threatened to sully his anticipatory delight. Eugene would not allow for such an imposition, despite his extreme misgivings toward Gabriel and his foolish quest to rescue a useless human being. He would not surrender the power of pending pleasure to a sanctimonious savior.

Hate bubbled inside of him. Eugene could not wait to kill them both, to see their wretched faces as they met with their fate: him.

He also yearned to exterminate the three teenage fools Stein had shoddily constructed. His maker had decided that he would recreate Kevin, Chris and John, an act Eugene had serious reservations about. His issues with their creation were not a matter of ethics; it was personal. He remembered their murders vividly, and felt somehow deprived of the intensity of his remembrance knowing a variation of their DNA existed on the same planet he walked upon. Moreover, his maker seemed to put far less effort into their creation than with his previous handiworks.

Stein’s recent endeavors lacked the education and refinement both he and Gabriel possessed. They were endowed with brute strength, but little in the way of anything else. Without the ability to think on a higher plane than the average man, their power was virtually invalid. Eugene believed their lowly function was an utter waste of his maker’s genius and an affront to the concept of enhanced humans. What Stein did was simply replace Kevin, Chris and John with stronger, faster version of their original selves. Eugene disdained them and the entire project, but Stein deemed their existence as crucial to drawing Gabriel out of hiding, and as usual, he had been right.

The sensation their reemergence caused generated media coverage. Media coverage caught Gabriel’s attention and lured him from whatever hole he’d hidden in and returned him to Harbingers Falls, and a certain death.

The scent of their death would be intoxicating, exhilarating. Melissa Martin’s natural secretions intermingled with fear and the sweet-smelling fragrance he hoped she’d be wearing lingered in his olfactory memory. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of it. The only element that could further enhance the aroma would be the addition of blood.

He could not wait to murder her, to hear her preliminary screams and pleas for mercy. Of course, he would never extend her the courtesy of compassion; it was not in his genetic makeup.

Eugene’s insides begin to trill once again as bile inundated him, submerged him into dark, deep dominions of venomous hate. The vitriol he felt engulfed him fully, the thought of multiple deaths teased at him like white-hot flames searing and scorching his flesh from the inside out.

As his rage sweltered and blazed, he began to unconsciously depress the accelerator pedal of the Hummer. He trembled involuntarily, no longer able to control the excited rage that boiled inside of him, and stepped down harder on the gas lever. The powerful engine of the H1 Alpha resisted at first, balking at its substantial weight then surged forward explosively.

The world rushed toward Eugene in a swirl of exaggerated colors, all bright and garish, a kaleidoscopic melee of hues. The barrage of shapes and shades coupled with his overwhelming bloodlust distracted him from his handling of the Hummer. He did not realize his acceleration exceeded speed limitations until an equally loud and tasteless display of vulgarity distracted him from behind.

He glanced up at his rearview mirror only to see a riot of flashing lights. Confused by the brash and glinting display following him, he looked to his speedometer and saw that it revealed he was traveling at ninety miles per hour.

The patrol car that trailed keened loudly, added incessant wailing to its offensive overall presence. It then began issuing a series of electronic buzzes in addition to the chaotic cacophony that sounded, a clear indication he was being summoned to the side of the road.

Though it galled him to adhere to the pedestrian rules and regulations of humanity, he conceded they were incumbent. He would’ve liked nothing more than to continue driving and ignore the orders of the law-enforcement officer, but he knew that doing so would have proved problematic. Not only would he be unable to outrun the far-reaching network of agents that spanned the highway and bled into each county and town, he also did not wish to aggravate his maker by risking exposure. Both exposure and provocation would result in his termination. He could not risk termination; the world deserved him, after all.

Eugene decelerated and pulled his car to the shoulder of the highway. He watched as an officer parked his cruiser approximately twenty feet behind the Hummer. He saw the officer hesitate before exiting, clearly taking time to input Eugene’s license plate number into the state Motor Vehicle Database to preview who owned the vehicle, and whether or not the owner had any outstanding warrants or other violations.

Once the police officer ascertained that his car held no warrants, he would undoubtedly approach the driver’s side of the Hummer and issue Eugene a summons for his excessive rate of travel. Stein would not be thrilled with a speeding infraction. The incident would result in undesirable attention.

Eugene reached to the passenger seat and grabbed his baseball cap and dark sunglasses. He placed the hat on his head and pulled the brim low over his forehead and concealed his widely spaced, honey-colored eyes with the sunglasses.

He had just clothed himself in both articles when he noticed a uniformed man approaching from the rear of his Hummer. He noticed immediately how he strutted with swagger; his chest thrust out, arms at his sides with one hand placed casually on his revolver.

Clad in gray wool trousers and jacket and a wool open road Stetson with a leather security strap, the man strode with confidence but caution, his hand readied at his exposed and holstered weapon. His tie and the band of his hat were purple, a distinction of membership to an elite group. Eugene suppressed a smile at the notion that any insignificant human could consider himself elite.

Burly and broad of shoulders, the man moved with fluidity that was surprising. His uniform and patrol car indicated he was a state highway patrolman and therefore more heavily armed and held a significant amount of training. Eugene possessed such information from extensive education that enlightened him with innumerable facts and details. From this, he could infer that the officer had already informed his command post of the traffic stop; fellow officers were aware of his location, and aware that he was with a person identified as Eugene Smith.

Eugene knew it was imperative that he wait patiently, accept his speeding ticket and whatever admonishments the officer elected to give and be on his way. With just two hours to go before he reached Harbinger Falls, he did not want to be slowed by a dispute with a law-enforcement officer. Yet, being chastised by an insignificant human was degrading, insufferable. He felt a surge of wrath shoot through him with such force he nearly pitched forward.

Within seconds, a large hand by conventional human standards rapped on the driver’s side window of his Hummer. He lowered his window and heard the whooshing of cars as they raced by. In his side view mirror, the gray wool-clad man loomed.

Eugene reached into his wallet and produced the requested documents then carefully handed them to the officer, all the while breathing steadily to keep waves of rage at bay. The officer looked to the identification and then to Eugene.

“I realize I was speeding and will happily accept and pay whatever tickets you give me, but why do I need to remove my glasses?” Eugene asked and swallowed rising fury.

“Sir, in order to be certain that the man pictured in this driver’s license is you, I need to be able to see your face, all of it.”

Eugene grew increasingly agitated by the officer’s patronizing tone. How dare he command him to remove his glasses? Feeble-minded humans awarded small badges and a sidearm could assume authority over the masses, but not him.

“I don’t see how it is necessary,” Eugene began, fighting to keep his tone even, respectful, but was interrupted abruptly.

“Sir, I am not going to ask you again. Remove the sunglasses, now,” the officer barked.

Eugene noticed in his peripheral field of vision that the officer’s right hand had unsnapped his holster. He had begun to draw his weapon. He felt his anger mount.

Once his gun was in his hands, he aimed it at Eugene and in an authoritative voice said, “Step out of the car, sir.”

Eugene remained still, contemplating his next move. It appeared as though a suitable option did not exist. His anger had mounted far beyond his control. He opened the driver’s side door and slowly stepped out of his vehicle.

As he rose before the officer placing his massive and stunning form in full view, he noticed how quickly his confident demeanor transformed. His eyes widened; his mouth hung open. He regarded Eugene with awe, with reverence.

Eugene found it impossible to calm down while the arrogant human, undoubtedly inflated beyond measure by his meaningless victory of threatening him into supposed submission, shouted at him. He felt his legs begin to tremble, temper overtake him.

“Is there some kind of law against wearing sunglasses on a sunny spring day?” he asked sarcastically.

“Keep your hands on the car and your mouth shut. I’m the one asking questions now.”

“So you feel there is a reason other than my sunglasses to treat me as a criminal?” Eugene asked acidly.

“You’re behaving suspiciously, so I’m treating you accordingly,” the officer said as he patted Eugene’s legs from his groin to his ankles.

Eugene became indignant at such intrusive probes. He began to turn his body toward the officer, his breathing ragged and shallow.

A violent tremor racked Eugene’s body, his temper beyond his control. He turned his head to one side and watched as a cluster of cars passed. The highway was not crowded; traffic had been light. The second Eugene saw that no cars approached, he spun and grabbed the officer’s right wrist, the one that held his revolver, and bent it forcefully. The bone beneath his fingers yielded as readily as a dry twig. The officer cried out in pain. Eugene savored his pain. The gun fell to the ground.

He cupped the officer’s head in his hands, regretted he could not enjoy the moment, make it linger, but time was a constraint. He snapped the officer’s head quickly and forcefully to one side, effectively breaking his neck in one swift motion. Life escaped him instantly. His body fell slack against Eugene.

Eugene picked him up and hurled him over the Hummer and into the bordering woods, out of view of oncoming traffic, taking caution to relieve him of his Stetson and the shiny star on his breast before doing so.

Several cars approached then passed. Eugene felt confident that no one had seen what had happened. When the highway was clear again, he walked from his Hummer to the police cruiser and grabbed the keys from the ignition. He then used the keys to unlock and open the trunk then retrieved the officer’s body from the brush. With no cars passing in either direction, he tossed the officer’s corpse into the trunk of the cruiser and slammed the trunk shut.

Eugene went back to his Hummer and grabbed a duffel bag from the back seat and placed it on his lap and waited patiently for another lull in traffic before driving it off of the shoulder of the highway and into the surrounding woods. He knew his plates had been radioed in to the state trooper’s command center. His car and his identity had been disclosed to a dispatcher with the range and capability to notify other officers of his infraction. He needed to halt that from happening.

As soon as the roadway was clear once again, Eugene grabbed his duffle bag, dashed to the cruiser and situated himself in the driver’s seat. He immediately radioed in that no speeding violation was committed, but that an equipment violation was issued. He then opened his bag and pulled out a charcoal-colored wool sweater and pulled it on. He placed the Stetson he removed from the highway patrolman atop his head, pinned the gold badge to his sweater and drove off in the direction of Harbingers Falls. He planned to wrap things up in just a few short hours, hopefully before state authorities discovered the missing officer or his Hummer in the woods off the highway.

GABRIEL TESTED THE engine of the Cherokee as he raced to Melissa’s house on Blackstone Drive. For reasons he could not explain, urgency surrounded his return. He felt compelled to get there as quickly as possible, that a second tour of her house would reveal crucial evidence. Tension coiled tightly within him, twisting and winding tauter the closer he got to her home.

When her street finally came into view, he felt as though his compactly wound worry would launch his body and propel him forward like a canon straight in to her house and enable him to initiate a frantic search for a clue that suggested her whereabouts. He knew that more orthodox methods would be employed as opposed to blasting through her front door but struggled internally to manage his fear for her safety. Without a hint of her location, Gabriel felt helpless, powerless.

Once on Blackstone Drive, he noticed that nearly every driveway stood unoccupied by vehicles indicating that most people were out, their homes empty. Gabriel had fleetingly entertained the notion of knocking on the doors of some of Melissa’s neighbors to find out if they had seen her leave or had noticed anyone out of the ordinary coming or going from her house. Given the scarcity of available neighbors, his idea became void.

Instead, he parked a few houses away from hers and hesitated before opening the driver’s side door. From where he sat, he stared at the white vinyl-sided structure wondering what he had missed in his initial search.

“We’ll find her, Gabriel,” Alex assured him as if his thoughts were obvious. But her voice sounded unconvincing.

“And we’ll find it now,” Yoshi said confidently before opening the back door of the Cherokee.

Gabriel and Alex followed him and they proceeded cautiously up the hill. Gabriel had left Melissa’s bedroom window unlocked as it had been during their first visit but closed the pane instead. This detail proved useful as it allowed him access a second time. He climbed the massive oak and let himself in just as he did earlier. Once inside, he descended the staircase and opened the front door for Alex and Yoshi.

After Yoshi crossed the threshold, he immediately began utilizing his hunting skills that included tracking based upon intuition and basic senses as opposed to logical search methods that suggested they begin looking in Melissa’s bedroom. Instead he moved about the main level of the house and allowed himself to be guided by a more comprehensive force than mere logic offered.

“We’re going up to Melissa’s room,” Gabriel said to Yoshi. “You’re staying down here?”

Before Gabriel and Alex reached the top of the staircase, they heard Yoshi call out to them.

Gabriel’s mind reeled as the horrific image of Eric’s badly beaten corpse flashed through it. He bounded down the staircase taking two at a time until he reached the bottom and ran in the direction of Yoshi’s voice with Alex following after him.

He reached the family room at the rear of the house and noticed that the door stood ajar and Yoshi was nowhere in sight.

Gabriel stepped out into the pale light of the backyard. The sky, several shades paler than it had been earlier, had been encroached upon. Ashen clouds, dull and dirty, advanced from the west and pressed slowly soiling and sullying stretches of pastel blue in its wake. The green of the grass, emerald earlier, looked a drab hue of olive in the muted light of late afternoon.

“Well, for starters, the door to that room was left unlocked and open slightly,” Yoshi gestured to the door off the family room that led to the backyard.

“We never checked,” Yoshi answered. “It looked normal to me at a quick glance.”

“I wouldn’t have noticed it either if I wasn’t staring at the deadbolt. I saw that it wasn’t engaged and then saw light passing through the doorjamb. Anyway, the door was unlocked and open, so I walked out onto the porch and look what I found,” Yoshi pointed to rain-softened grass that had been pressed down flat and smeared in a trail. Beside it were a set of large footprints.

“I see that. But what does that have to do with finding Melissa? Anyone could have made those prints.”

“Look beside the prints,” Gabriel interjected. “That mark looks like something or someone was dragged.”

Alex’s golden complexion paled and her dark eyes grew wide, began to fill with tears.

Yoshi began following the tracks. Gabriel and Alex followed. The large foot imprints continued across the width of Melissa’s property and that of her neighbor’s property before ending at her neighbor’s painted wooden deck. Peculiarly, the depressed smears of grass and mud ended midway across Melissa’s yard. A black, fabric, slipper-like woman’s shoe, sat alone in the yard. Muddy footprints continued on to the lightly colored deck to the sliding glass doors at the rear of her neighbor’s house.

“That’s Melissa’s shoe! This doesn’t make any sense,” Alex said. “The woman that lives here is like, eighty years old. I sincerely doubt she dragged Melissa across both lawns, onto her deck and into her house.”

“None of this makes sense, but we’re going to find out what’s going on right now!” Gabriel said determinedly.

Alex and Yoshi exchanged furtive glances before Gabriel climbed the wooden steps to the deck and stealthily began peering in windows.

MELISSA’S BODY ACHED all over from spending the night tied to an overturned rocking chair. Her shoulder joints complained most pronouncedly as her arms were bound behind her, straining the fragile tissue of her rotator cuffs. Her head ached as well, and her sinuses burned from hours of crying interspersed with light dozing.

Her tears were born of despair rather than fear. She had grown rather confident that the monster did not intend to kill her or harm her. She simply did not know what he wanted. But she knew no one would be looking for her; her father was on an Indian reservation in Connecticut playing in a poker tournament and wouldn’t return for at least two more days, Alex and Daniella would have assumed she wanted time alone and would have given up calling her hours earlier and beyond that, there was no one else in her life to care about her whereabouts.

Just as a fresh wave of tears began, the creature returned from its hiding place in the kitchen. It looked at her sympathetically. It appeared to possess some form of compassion, of kindness.

It did not answer but gestured by shaking its head from side to side implying that it did not have a name.

“That’s very sad, to not have a name I mean. We will have to give you a name.”

It seemed to brighten at the idea of being named, bobbing its head enthusiastically like a child who’d just been asked if he’d like ice cream and cookies for dinner. Melissa did not share its enthusiasm but wanted to gain its trust in an effort to get it to release her. Its response indicated that she was making progress. It began to gesture again.

Curling all of the webbed fingers except for one on each hand, it began gesturing animatedly. It used its forefinger on both hands and it began pointing and smiling broadly. It then alternated between pointing at her and hugging itself, a gesture she assumed indicated some kind of affection it possessed for her, or hoped she possessed for it. She could not be sure of the exact significance of the gesturing so she decided to ask.

“Friends? Is that what you’re trying to say? You want to be friends?” She asked.

“The only problem is, friends don’t tie each other to chairs and hold each other prisoner.”

Its face drooped immediately and it lowered its gaze to the floor, allowing its chin to rest on its chest as if ashamed.

“If you really want to be my friend, you need to let me go. You know that, right?” Melissa said in a soothing voice.

It slowly shook its head up and down and stepped cautiously toward her. Melissa’s heart began to race. She would be freed in a matter of minutes.

The monster, seemingly startled by the sound, dashed behind the couch and cowered.

Suddenly, the front door opened and a dark shape burst across the threshold followed by two others. The monster darted from its concealment behind the couch and scrambled across the living-room floor into the kitchen.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Alex asked then leaned down and fumbled with the rope at her wrists. “Who the hell did this to you?”

Before Melissa could answer her friend’s question, she saw another familiar face. The exquisite planes of his face were highlighted by the waning sunlight in the dim living room and his sapphire eyes stared at her with concern, with love. Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes filled with tears as she realized Gabriel stood in her late neighbor’s living room.

“Gabriel! You’re here!” she said breathlessly. “I can’t believe it!”

Gabriel put his forefinger to his lips to quiet her then knelt down and whispered, “Is whoever did this to you still here?”

“Where?” he asked. His voice was a low rumble, threatening; his eyes suddenly steely, dangerous.

A loud racket from the kitchen distracted their reunion. Pots and pans could be heard thudding and thumping against the vinyl flooring as well as boxes and what Melissa guessed to be canned goods falling to the floor and rolling about. Gabriel was crouched over her protectively and froze. His stillness was extraordinary but disconcerting as Melissa could not discern if he breathed. He remained motionless for several seconds before he rose to his feet, poised and ready to confront the creature he had yet to see that took cover in the kitchen. More sounds arose from beyond the living room. Gabriel began creeping toward to entryway, moving toward the noise.

Unexpectedly, the commotion in the kitchen ceased and a large shape emerged and dashed past them out the sliding glass doors. Melissa noticed how it moved with impossible swiftness despite its massive size from the deck and across the backyard and into the surrounding woods. Gabriel shook off his initial surprise and immediately moved to chase the creature.

“It didn’t hurt me. It could have. Believe me, it could have killed me; it had plenty of opportunities. But it didn’t even want to hurt me.”

Gabriel, still looking perplexed, shifted his focus from the creature that blasted past him to the ropes around her wrists and ankles and began to untie her.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back,” Melissa said. She knew her comment was random, inappropriate even, but the words poured from her as if by their own volition, reflexively, involuntarily.

Gabriel met her gaze. He knit his brow and his beautiful features contorted into a pained expression. “Of course I was coming back. I could never leave you for good.”

Melissa felt a tear stream down her cheek. She felt shamed by her exasperation at his necessary absence and for doubting the promise he’d made her. His pained expression relaxed and he wrapped his arms around her and the rocking chair she was tethered to.

“Wow that hurts!” The words escaped her lips reflexively as his firm grip aggravated her tender arms. She regretted them as soon as they were spoken. Being wrapped in Gabriel’s arms surpassed the brief pain that shot from her shoulders to her wrists; his affection was well worth the pain.

“Oh sorry,” Gabriel replied sheepishly and relaxed his arms. “I didn’t realize, I mean, I wasn’t thinking,” he fumbled. “Let me get you out of there.”

“By the way, Melissa, this is Yoshi,” Gabriel said and pointed to a small man of Asian descent. Melissa guessed him to be around the same age as she and Alex.

“Nice to meet you,” Yoshi said with a slight accent she could not place. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” His almond-shaped eyes danced with delight and the dark-brown of his irises seemed to twinkle at his last statement. Gabriel shot him a look of warning. Melissa had no idea what inside joke or secret they shared but knew it was amicable.

“Wow, these knots are impressive,” he said returning to the task at hand. “Melissa, did you know who he was? I didn’t get a look at him as he flew past me.”

“What is a better question. That thing that was in the kitchen that tied me up. You wouldn’t believe your eyes if you saw it.” She immediately rethought her statement and recalled that he had been with her when she had glimpsed the creature in the tank, the same creature that kidnapped her and cowered in the next room just seconds earlier. “Wait a second! You’ve seen it before, the night you made me dinner and we went to the lab afterward, remember? It looked like a giant fetus. That was him, and he hasn’t really changed much except for now he’s huge and has arms and legs, big arms and legs.”

She looked over her shoulder at Gabriel. His hands stopped moving as recognition flashed in his eyes. He narrowed them at her, his long, raven lashes slightly veiling the azure of his irises. He clenched his jaw tightly, she could see the muscles of surrounding it flexing as he set it resolutely.

Melissa could feel his mounting anger, the palpability of his need for vengeance.

“No Gabriel. This thing didn’t want to kill me,” she said softly. “Like I said before, it had plenty of chances to kill me, trust me. It had me here all night. If it was going to kill me, it would have. So if Stein sent the creature to do that, it would have.”

“Then why is it loose? Why would he take it out of the development tank? What would be the reason if not to benefit him and his purposes?”

“I know,” she said barely able to wiggle her hands. “But who cares about the knots. When did you get here?”

“Really? Why didn’t you come right over?” she asked then silently chastised herself for being so forward. She felt her cheeks warm and was certain that scarlet streaks colored her cheeks. “I mean, I would have liked it if you came.”

“Oh Gabriel cut the shit already!” Alex chimed in as she walked to the far corner of the room with her arms positioned angrily on her hips. “He came to the house and saw you with Eric Sala and thinks something was going on between you two.”

“Thanks Alex,” he said curtly then turned to Melissa. His expression softened visibly.

“Melissa, I don’t know how to tell you this,” he began then took a deep breath and continued, “but your boyfriend Eric is dead.”

“He’s dead?” she asked incredulously. “Wait, my boyfriend? Are you crazy?”

Gabriel did not respond. He was completely still. His silence allowed for the gravity of what he’d told her to settle upon her. She felt dizzy and nauseated. The culmination of everything that had happened that day still swirled in her mind. Eric’s death added to the confusion, to the horror. In her heart, she knew what had happened. Gabriel did not need to tell her, yet she asked anyway.

Gabriel explained everything that had happened earlier, how he’d gone back to his old house and found Eric’s body and then encountered Kevin, Chris and John. She listened intently and did not blink as he recounted each detail. She could not find words capable of articulating the shock and panic she was feeling just the release of her arms from their binding as Gabriel unraveled the last loop. Her arms felt stiff and achy. She wrapped them around her body and massaged her shoulders, hugging herself in an attempt to physically hold herself together.

“Eric came to my house last night, told me he was afraid of Kevin, Chris and John, that they’d changed since they came back. He knew he was in danger; he even broke down and cried, he was so terrified. He trusted me enough to tell me and now he’s dead.” Emotion made her voice falter.

“So you weren’t with him,” Alex said looking at Gabriel. “Eric wasn’t your boyfriend or anything.”

“No, never!” Melissa said quickly. “After everything he put me through, I didn’t even want to let him in my house. The only reason I did was because my dad was home and in the room across the hall from us. I still feel sad that he’s dead even though I didn’t like him.”

“And then there was Gabriel spying from the roof of your garage,” Alex added sarcastically.

“What? Was there a party on my garage roof and I didn’t get an invite?” Melissa attempted sarcastic humor. Her effort fell flat as everyone looked to her curiously.

“No, I feel bad that he’s dead, that he came to me and I couldn’t help, but, no, we were not a couple.” Melissa answered.

Gabriel moved to Melissa’s feet and began untangling the rope around her ankles.

“Wait a second. Gabriel, you came to my house, saw me with Eric and left because you thought he was my boyfriend?”

Yoshi laughed aloud, a deep, throaty laugh inconsistent with his diminutive stature.

Alex was about to sit down in a dramatic display of annoyance when she looked over her shoulder and saw Melissa’s deceased neighbor.

“What the fuck!” she exclaimed her voice a shrill scream that left Melissa’s ears ringing. “Is she dead?”

Alex bent forward and moved closer to where Miss Harriet lay face down in a pool of her own blood. “Oh my God,” she gasped.

“That thing was clearly not harmless,” he said looking from Miss Harriet to Melissa. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“We have to call the cops,” Alex said. “Eric, Miss Harriet, there’s murder all around us. We need to call the cops.”

Gabriel ran a hand through his thick russet hair. “We can’t Alex. How would we explain all of this,” he said spreading his arms out at his sides. “Monsters killing an old lady, teenage boys who were previously presumed dead returning only to kill one of their former friends; it’s all too crazy. The cops would never believe us. They would think we were involved.”

“Whatever we do, I’m not staying here with a dead body. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Alex said tearfully.

“I’m with Alex, I don’t want to be here another second,” Melissa agreed.

“Fine let’s go,” he said and began turning off the lamps in the living room, then the lights in the kitchen.

As they moved to the front door, headlights illuminated the kitchen window briefly, sweeping across the front of Miss Harriet’s house. Melissa parted the closed curtains that concealed the window and saw a vehicle in her driveway. She strained to see the make and model to identify who could be arriving at her house just as the motion-detecting lights above the garage came on and exposed a patrol car.

“Stop,” Melissa ordered him. “Don’t open the door. There’s a cop car in my driveway.”

“Sorry,” she added. “I didn’t mean to be so rude but there’s a cop in town who has been harassing me about Gabriel and his involvement in the whole Kevin thing.”

“I haven’t spoken to you in so long,” she replied. “And when we did get to talk, I had other things I wanted to say to you.”

“He probably thought up more questions to ask to try and break my story. He thinks I’m lying about what I said I saw in the woods, about thinking Kevin and the others were dead.”

“Huh,” Gabriel said pensively then stood beside Melissa to peer out the window.

Gabriel’s arm was touching her sore shoulder, the heat of his body warmed it, soothed it. He bent down and leaned forward, his face was positioned so that they were nearly cheek to cheek, as he watched the police cruiser, waiting for the officer to emerge. She could hear the soft whirr of his breathing, its lulling rhythm. She turned her eyes from the cop car and looked to Gabriel. He was focused, concentrating on the parked car. She allowed herself only a fleeting glance, a glimpse of his full lips before returning her attention to the suspicious activity in her driveway. In spite of all that she’d endured in the last twenty-four hours, in the past five months, her stomach still quivered in such close proximity of him.

“There’s a light on in the car,” Gabriel whispered. “Someone’s getting out.”

“That cop, he’s huge. That’s definitely not Officer Miller,” she observed. “And he’s driving a State Trooper cruiser.”

They watched as the hulking officer placed a Stetson atop his head and strode to her front door. Melissa waited for him to return to his car after he rang the bell and found that no one was home. But he did not return immediately.

“What’s going on? How many times is he going to ring the doorbell?” Alex asked.

“He would have to have a reason. Police officers can’t just barge into your house when you’re not home,” Gabriel answered.

Alex began to pace about the kitchen. Yoshi maintained his post at the front door. And Melissa and Gabriel watched and waited for the police officer to return to his cruiser for what seemed like an eternity.

After nearly twenty minutes passed, the police officer returned. As he walked toward his car, he paused briefly under the motion-activated floodlights affixed to the garage. With his head nearly touching the fixture, Melissa and Gabriel were afforded a clear view of the man’s face.

Gabriel wrapped his arm around her waist as she felt her knees give way beneath her.

“I’m all right,” she lied then rubbed her eyes as if the motion would purge the vision she’d just seen from existence. She pulled back the curtain again and saw that the image remained.

Eugene was standing in her driveway clad in a gray state patrol unit Stetson, gray shirt and slacks and about to get into his police cruiser.

MELISSA AND GABRIEL quickly ducked out of sight as Eugene restarted the car and switched on the headlamps. The headlights passed across the neighbor on the opposite side of her house, not Miss Harriet’s, but she and Gabriel moved away from the window just in case.

The color drained from Alex’s face. “Eugene, I thought he was dead. He can’t be, he can’t be back,” she stammered. “It’s impossible.”

“We can’t leave,” Yoshi offered. “That Eugene guy could be anywhere. He could be at the bottom of the hill waiting for all we know. No one would be suspicious of a parked patrol car. If anything, they’d be grateful for it.”

“Yeah, unless they knew what was driving it,” Alex said in an unsteady voice.

“I agree with Yoshi, it’s too risky to leave. We should stay here until we figure out what to do,” Melissa agreed.

“I think you’re right, Melissa,” Gabriel began. “We should stay here for a few hours, at least until it’s completely dark out there, before we consider leaving here. Then I’ll get my car and pull it up to the end of the driveway and everyone can jump in. I want to limit our exposure.”

“I was alone for five long months. Anything could have happened to me while you were gone,” she added.

The words floated from her mouth. She heard herself speak them but felt as though someone else was commanding her word choice. Melissa had not planned to ever address the misery she experienced during Gabriel’s five-month absence, her pain had been her own and not his burden to bear. Seeing him burst through the door of her neighbor’s house, realizing that he’d returned, was one of the happiest moments of her life thus far, one she’d been dreaming about. She had wanted nothing more than to tell him how much she loved him, how much she’d missed him. She did not want to be critical of him or speak harshly to him, but the thought of separating again–even briefly–sparked a feeling in her she’d pushed down for several months: resentment.

“Evidently, he was not a person who could be threatened into backing off or he didn’t feel you would ever follow through on your threat.”

Melissa heard her own voice. It sounded foreign, as if it belonged to someone else, the accusing tone; the anger. She did not want to hurt Gabriel, it was the last thing she wanted to do. She did not want to drive him away forever.

“I know you’re angry with me. You have every right to be. I never thought Stein would resurface. I thought having his laptop with proof of what he’s been working on would be enough. I never would have left if I thought you would be in any type of danger.”

“Jesus people! This is like some nauseating soap opera As My Stomach Turns or something. I think I’ll go upstairs and see what Yoshi’s up to. You two work your shit out. We have enough to deal with without you two arguing!” Alex interjected then stomped up the staircase in search of Yoshi.

“She’s right,” Melissa conceded. “The last thing I should be doing is giving you a hard time. You scared away that creature that kidnapped me and tied me up. And I know you never would have left if you thought I was in danger but it was hard for me when you left.”

Gabriel’s shoulders slumped, his posture assumed a position similar to a person who had just been punched in the stomach. She did not want to hurt him. That was never her intention. But surely he had known she was far from happy when he left. He had known how strong her feelings were for him; she had told him, professed her love for him. He possessed superior DNA and clearly processed information more thoroughly, more rapidly, than the average person, yet seemed shocked to hear that she’d had a hard time in his absence. She found his reaction perplexing, frustrating.

“Well how did you think I would feel? Did you ever once think about my feelings when you were God-only-knows-where doing whatever it was that you did while you were gone? You hardly ever called or emailed or texted me, it was like you fell off the face of the Earth. I thought maybe you’d met someone else and moved on!”

“Moved on? How could you say that? How could you think I would want anyone but you?” Gabriel asked, pain etching his features and lacing his every word.

“The problem was that I didn’t know; I was in the dark, about everything.”

“It had to be that way, Melissa. I never wanted to leave. You think it was easy for me?”

Melissa had never considered his feelings, just assumed he was fine wherever he was. She deemed herself worthy of little esteem, guessed he’d distracted himself with something or someone else. Worry and loneliness had transformed and assumed an uglier hue. It had been replaced with jealousy and uncertainty. Self-doubt had pervaded her thoughts allowing for a seed of irrational suspicion to grow to a field of distrust in herself, and in Gabriel.

“The hardest thing I did was leave you. I thought about you every single day. Don’t think for one second you were alone in feeling isolated and frustrated. I missed you so badly it actually hurt to think about you. I was halfway around the world in one of the remotest places on the planet with no access to phones and Internet connection. There wasn’t even electricity where I was. I had to travel for days just to get to a village that had modern conveniences. The times I called or messaged were carefully planned and executed trips. But it was worth it just to hear your voice and know you were okay.”

His words stung, though he clearly did not intend them to. He was merely vocalizing his side of their separation. She had never considered it, was so busy picturing him surrounded by exotic women more befitting his company than she, as beautiful as he and far less virtuous than her. Notwithstanding the earliest days of their good-bye, she never envisioned him sad without her. She only saw her own pain, her own loneliness.

Tears began to burn her eyes. She blinked several times to clear them but her efforts failed. She started to cry.

“I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I was so selfish. I never thought you would miss me. I mean, look at you. You could have any girl on the planet. I just thought,” she sniffled but was interrupted.

“You are beautiful, Melissa and definitely not lacking in any way other than self-esteem, maybe. But I don’t love you because you’re beautiful, though it doesn’t hurt,” he smiled mischievously. “I love you because you are kind and funny. You’re smart and much tougher than you give yourself credit for. I love the way your cheeks turn bright pink when you’re uncomfortable. I love the sound of your laugh. I love that you can accept me for what I am and how I came to be. Melissa, no one can compare. You are the girl I love.”

Melissa looked to Gabriel. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she felt her cheeks flush. Gabriel smiled at her.

“There it is,” he said and brushed the back of his hand across her blushing cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for, Melissa. You didn’t leave.”

“No pressure or anything,” Gabriel said uncomfortably then cupped her face in his hands. He stared into her eyes and she wanted nothing more than for him to press his full lips against hers, to feel their softness, their heat.

“Who the hell knows? Knowing him, he’s writing her a sonnet or some corny thing like that,” Alex answered.

Melissa’s heart pounded in her chest as she contemplated reaching up and tangling her fingers in his russet-colored locks and crushing his lips with hers, kissing him passionately enough to compensate for the five long months she missed out on kissing him. Her hands trembled at the thought of doing something so bold, so presumptuous. She felt her cheeks burn with deeper color.

Gabriel ran his fingertips down her arms and took her hands in his. She felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise and quiver as if charged by the power of an electrical storm. Goosebumps dimpled her exposed skin.

Without thinking any further, she pulled him toward her, stood on her tippy toes and took his face in her hands. Dizzied by anticipation and anxiety she brought her lips to his, felt his breathing. She closed her eyes and tried to force the nervousness from her mind and simply listen to what her heart ordered her to do. Before she followed through on her endeavor, he wrapped her in his arms, leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The world fell silent for several seconds. Monsters and rogue geneticists ceased to exist. Crass, sassy friends disappeared. Dead neighbors did not linger and killers posing as cops vanished. She and Gabriel were the only two people in the world for that period of time.

But all too soon, reality reared its head and their dire circumstances were illuminated once again.

“I’m guessing the silence means you two have kissed and made up,” Alex bellowed from upstairs. “That’s all well and good but we still don’t have a plan to get out of here.”

Gabriel’s arms relaxed around her. He did not fully release her rather he allowed his arms to fall and loosely encircle her waist. He drew his mouth away from hers and rested his forehead against hers. She knew their kiss was over but was reluctant to accept the distance between them nevertheless.

Gabriel did not answer right away. He took a step backward and looked directly in to her eyes, the cobalt of his irises seemed to deepen, darken.

EUGENE SLAMMED THE driver’s side door of the patrol car he’d taken from the overly arrogant state trooper who’d drawn his weapon on him, attempting to intimidate him. The mere remembrance of the officer’s brazenness sent a current of anger through his veins so charged it threatened to overtake him. He abhorred guns and any form of artillery, thought them reserved for the weak and cowardly. He believed that to truly take ownership for death, it must be performed barehanded. He knew from research and experience that human beings clung to their shiny guns passionately. He also observed how heavy weaponry prompted humans to feel superior to those who were unarmed, how it made them feel smug. What amused him about this particular condition of humanity was that their smugness, their arrogant underestimation of him, unarmed, invariably led to their deaths.

Armed humans were far more loathsome than weaponless ones; those who elected to be without defenses proved more aware, more feral and far more ferocious. With his superior capabilities, his advantage surpassed all measurable human acuity and savageness of course, but unprotected humans proved far more entertaining. They were craftier, more cunning, and far more exciting to hunt.

Eugene loved to hunt. Disappointingly, his intended quarry, Melissa Martin, was not in her house. He longed to kill her, to satisfy the long-standing vendetta. She had assisted Gabriel in his untimely and unceremonious demise. She was responsible for the months he had spent submerged in opaque fluid, confined to a long cylindrical chamber recuperating from near death. He had been unable to kill for a long period of time, too long. When the time had come and he finally emerged from his induced slumber, he had doubted his killing integrity. Doubt had been unfamiliar to Eugene, utterly alien. He would never allow for such doubt to prevail again; Melissa’s death would all but guarantee its eternal absence.

But Melissa was nowhere to be found and he did not have hours or days to spend searching for her. Traipsing around randomly was not an option. And if he were to do so, the police cruiser would need to be disposed of. With no sound idea of where Melissa might be, Eugene decided to pay Kevin, Chris and John a visit. Stein had imprudently cloned them and released them into Harbingers Falls. Without additional education or refinement, they remained the same drooling idiots they’d always been, only stronger, faster drooling idiots.

The thought of spending time in their company was debasing but necessary as he needed to locate and kill Melissa as quickly as possible. He drove operating on the assumption that they might possess knowledge of her whereabouts.

Within ten minutes of leaving Melissa’s house, he arrived at Dr. Stein and Gabriel’s former house. He sped down the winding, gravel-filled driveway and gaped at his nemesis’s previous dwelling. The structure was stunning with elaborate, imposing architecture, more worthy of his inhabitance rather than Gabriel’s. Eugene felt resentment rise within him. He had deserved to live in such opulence, not Gabriel for he was the rightful heir to humanity.

Unconsciously, he had begun to breathe in short, shallow pants, bitter indignation burning like bile in his throat. He wrestled with his vexation, knew it was necessary to dominate it long enough to obtain the information he desired from Stein’s revitalized flunkies.

Eugene stepped out of the patrol car and strode to the entryway. He opened the unlocked front door and stepped across the threshold. He quickly scanned the room only to find Kevin and his drudges seated on mistreated but clearly expensive furniture with cans of beer in their hands. The scent of marijuana filled the air along with a milky layer of smoke that clouded the area surrounding the couches. All three had been bruised and badly beaten. Kevin sat with his leg elevated and a bag of frozen peas sat atop his knee. The display was contemptible.

He did not move right away, rather he looked upon the pathetic humans with disgust. The three of them sat ingesting as much poison into their bodies as was possible. They had been cloned with additional strength and speed but without augmented cognitive capacity therefore they were as wretched as the rest of humankind, and a waste of his maker’s talent. His frustration began to mount.

The three of them looked up shocked. Their eyes, reddened and bleary from the alcohol and marijuana, widened. Recognition registered on each drug-clouded face. There was no doubt in his mind they remembered him, remembered how he murdered them just five short months ago in the wooded area behind their school.

He also detected a vague sense of comprehension flash across their dazed expressions, like it had just dawned on them that they had failed to fulfill that which they were ordered to carry out. His maker had recreated Kevin, Chris and John with one purpose: to root out and terminate both Gabriel and Melissa; Stein had been emphatic when detailing his instructions to them. Yet as far as he knew, both Gabriel and Melissa lived.

Eugene suppressed a wicked grin as he appreciated their confusion and attributed it to what they obviously perceived as his premature arrival. They had not yet showcased their incompetence to Stein, had no reason to anticipate his appearance, but now he stood before them glowering at their ineptitude, their futility.

Soon, however, shock was replaced with dread, and fear. He watched as each carotid artery began beating wildly on their respective necks. He began to smell their terror.

He did not bother engaging in senseless platitudes. They were beyond small talk.

“How many were there?” he asked and expected to know who, if anyone, Gabriel had aligned himself with.

Judging from their state of defeat, he guessed an army had stormed the once meticulously maintained house and surprised them.

Eugene laughed. He enjoyed the low maleficent rumble that emanated from his body.

“That is disappointing, and pathetic,” he hissed. “The three of you were beaten by Gabriel and another human I’m guessing.”

“Yes, a little Asian guy,” Kevin said, the slightest hint of defensiveness modulating his tone of voice.

“No way, of course not,” Kevin said as if the idea of a female was more absurd somehow that an unenhanced human.

Eugene erupted in thunderous laughter, a cruel deep sound that resonated through the house like mortar explosions. They each smiled and looked to each other nervously, laughing but not entirely sure why.

He then stopped laughing abruptly and leveled his honey-colored eyes at them with contempt. He saw the color drain from Kevin’s face and opened his mouth to speak.

“So, let me understand this,” he growled. “The three of you, all enhanced with additional strength and speed, were outdone by love-struck Gabriel and a pint-sized Asian guy; is that correct?”

“And instead of going after them and attempting to redeem yourselves from this embarrassing failure, you are sitting around, smoking pot and drinking beers!” he roared.

“What do you want us to do? Besides, I heard you were taken down by Gabriel and a hundred-pound girl,” Chris sassed.

Eugene realized that the potent combination of drugs, alcohol and an overabundance of testosterone in the adolescent male body produced a reckless person, lethally reckless. Add to that heightened power and reflexes and the result was an oppositional fool on the verge of receiving a thorough thrashing.

He suppressed the urge to kill Chris where he stood, restrained only by his need for information.

“I don’t know, man. Gabriel, Alex and the Chinese dude didn’t tell us,” John answered, emboldened by Chris’s unpunished arrogance.

Eugene felt a shudder pass through him at the colloquial use of the word “man,” nearly exploded at the use of the idiom “dude.” He was neither, and he was becoming increasingly infuriated by the sarcasm.

Eugene was thoroughly incensed by Kevin and his friend’s maladroitness, their slurred cloudiness.

“She drives 1999 Toyota Camry, black. It’s a real piece of shit, you know, all she could afford.”

Eugene reviled Kevin’s continuance of inanities, his incessant need to offer his vapid opinion and running commentary. He wished to silence him, forever. But the extraction of information was proving somewhat useful. He had remembered seeing an older black Toyota Camry in Melissa’s driveway earlier. Either she had been home and hiding in a most meticulous manner or she had been out when he was there. Regardless, he had a remedy for the situation.

He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved his cellular phone and punched the numbers 9-1-1. He began to speak in a voice that expertly mimicked the average human being’s voice to the operator and claimed to be a neighbor.

“I heard screaming and things crashing around then I saw three teenagers run out of the house,” he impersonated. He paused and listened to the person on the other end then responded, “Um, there were two guys and a girl and they got into a late 1990s model Toyota Camry, black.” There was another pause and he rattled off a license plate number and added that he heard one of the guys referred to as “Gabriel.”

Eugene watched as Kevin, Chris and John looked on in awe at his formidable ability to imitate the various intonations and nuances of human speech pattern. He approved of their admiration of him, he knew his skill was indeed impressive, particularly when he added his final piece de resistance and produced a tremor in his voice that implied impending tears and said, “I rushed over to see if something was wrong, if I could help, you know, and that’s when I saw them.” He feigned an emotional breakdown, gave the address he was at and added, “The three dead kids! Oh God! Hurry please,” then pressed end on his cellular phone.

“The ones that will be her when they arrive,” Eugene replied cryptically and smirked.

Kevin made an effort to stand, wobbled on his tender leg and fell back to the couch. John and Chris rose and attempted to dash past him. Eugene shot his massive arm out and grabbed Chris by his neck and slammed him to the hardwood floors with such force the back of his skull crushed on impact. With his other hand, he accosted John and held him still. Desperate to free himself, John began thrashing and swinging his limbs. Eugene grabbed him by the back of his neck and used his free hand to simultaneously pinch his nose and cover his mouth. He held his formidable hand firmly in place. Eugene watched as his wriggling slowed and eventually stopped. He felt a tremor pass through his body, didn’t bother fighting it. He relished in John’s death, delighted in his vacant stare that replaced once animated eyes as life escaped him.

After the quaver ceased and Eugene felt partially satiated, he walked slowly to the couch. Kevin looked up horrified, and met his gaze. Eugene hoped his glower communicated the pure hatred he felt for Kevin, the utter disdain. He did not speak, dared not interrupt the thrill of descending on prey. Instead, he gripped the leather sofa with both hands and overturned it. Kevin toppled from his seated position and landed on the floor. Eugene felt nauseated watching him squirm and writhe helplessly like the pathetic insect he and all of humanity truly was.

“This will look familiar to you,” Eugene said finally as he raised his booted foot high in the air and stomped it down onto Kevin’s skull.

Kevin’s death did not elicit the thrill he’d hoped for. He was disappointed; murdering a pathetic, incapacitated human lacked the pleasure of pursuit. It held the same excitement as stepping on ants on a sidewalk; it is done every day yet is seldom celebrated. But a future adventure loomed on the horizon, one far more titillating than Kevin’s extermination. Melissa, Gabriel and a new male were in the vicinity. He could almost smell them. They would prove far more worthy as adversaries and far more entertaining to slaughter.

Buoyed, Eugene walked out the front door leaving it ajar behind him and climbed into his police cruiser. He directed the vehicle down the long, winding driveway and he activated the radio mechanism of the patrol car. He smirked as he heard instructions from the command post. They were dispatching units to Gabriel’s former home. Presently the police would arrive and discover the bodies of Kevin, Chris and John. The police force, with additional help from state authorities, would soon be participants aiding in his hunt for Melissa, Gabriel and the mysterious Asian man.

MELISSA LISTENED ANXIOUSLY as Gabriel outlined a sketchy plan to defend them against Eugene. She stared out the kitchen window as dusk gave way to night, as darkness crowded out daylight. Her neighborhood was eclipsed as a warship fleet of iron clouds shadowed overhead, accelerating nightfall and expanding their dominion to more than three-quarters of the sky. In the distance, the landscape flickered as if with muzzle flashes followed by a cannonade that shook the remaining twilight. Another springtime storm brewed overhead.

She turned from the pane and looked to Gabriel who conversed with Yoshi and Alex in the dining room. Alex glanced at her briefly, a look of fear and disbelief flashed in her deep brown eyes. Melissa wished her friend had not been involved in the nightmare that was unfolding, again. Gabriel seemed to perceive her misgivings and gestured for her to join them. Reluctantly, she moved from her post at the window as lightning flashed across the black clouds, sharp and bright, and flashed again. Thunder crashed. The sky convulsed and shook innumerable silvery scales of rain.

Melissa joined Gabriel and stood at his side. He wrapped an arm around her protectively and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Though she was certain the gesture was meant to soothe her, it had the opposite effect. Goose pimples arose on her exposed skin once again and she struggled to concentrate. Instead, her focus was diverted to what felt like a riot of winged insects darting and flitting about in her stomach all beating their wings feverishly in unison.

“What are you, a meteorologist? How would you know it’s going to end soon?” she asked haughtily.

Alex’s response to Yoshi lacked the razor-sharp edge that was always present when her friend sought to humiliate or essentially silence one who dared speak fatuously in her presence. Her current demeanor was different, almost playful. If Melissa didn’t know better, she would think her friend’s behavior verged on flirtation.

“I know because where I live the weather can be very harsh. Since we don’t have the modern conveniences you enjoy here in America like satellite-guided weather reports, we have to rely on thunder and lightning patterns, cloud color and thickness among other things. Judging from what I see and hear, the storm will last no more than twenty minutes tops.”

Melissa waited for a snappy response from Alex. When none was offered, she became equal parts suspicious and worried for her friend’s emotional state.

“Yoshi’s right,” Gabriel affirmed. “When the storm breaks, it will be dark enough out there for us to walk to Melissa’s house and get her dad’s shotgun. He does still have it, right?”

Typically, Alex would have issued him a verbal lashing and charged him with asking an asinine question. Melissa expected it, paused in anticipation of it but, again, silence.

“Um, yeah, I guess. Why would he keep a gun without ammunition?” she asked then blushed.

“Good point,” Yoshi agreed, the skin of his face matching the scarlet hue she imagined streaked her own.

“We arm ourselves and stay put. Eugene will be back. It’s only a matter of time. If we run, he will follow us. He will never quit; until we’re dead,” Gabriel said somberly.

“What!” Alex exclaimed. “Are you saying we’re going to wait for him to come back and kill us?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Alex railed. “You must be if you think it’s a good idea to just stay rather than run and give ourselves a fighting chance.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Alex panicked. “You don’t understand! That thing came to my house and wanted to kill me once before, would have if Daniella hadn’t called when she did. I am not risking another run-in with him. No way, no how!”

“So you’re proposing we live a life on the run and never come back to Harbingers Falls, or anywhere else for that matter? You want to go from place to place across the country indefinitely with no home, no family, nothing?”

Alex was clearly rattled by the prospect of either option; both seemed bleak, hopeless. She lowered her head and ran her hands through her thick, raven hair. When she raised her chin and looked to Melissa, Gabriel and Yoshi, her eyes were pools of liquid onyx, red-rimmed and filled with tears.

“Running, staying, both are horrible options,” she said in a trembling voice. “I don’t want to die.”

“No matter what, we need the gun,” Gabriel said solemnly. “No decisions need to be made right this minute, but time is an issue.”

Finally in agreement, Melissa waited with Gabriel, Alex and Yoshi as the storm raged. Rain pelted the rooftop and windows, exploding like shrapnel in every direction. Thunder cracked, shook the house, as though a great war was being waged between Heaven and Earth. An extended barrage of lightning blasted from an angry sky showcasing its might, its fury.

When finally the battle ended, quicker than she would have imagined and just as Yoshi had predicted, darkness had fallen. Clouds remained but were retreating swiftly. All that was left was otherworldly stillness.

Melissa had spent much of her time waiting out the storm perched in an upstairs bedroom, away from Miss Harriet’s lifeless form, and in the company of her friends. Gabriel kept her enveloped in his arms to calm her, reassure her. His proximity did little more than cause her pulse-rate to skyrocket.

As the last droplets fell, the storm long since passed, Gabriel released her from his protective embrace.

“We should go now,” he said soberly then slowly walked to the top of the staircase. Melissa followed, as did Alex and Yoshi. They descended the steps and followed him to the sliding glass doors off of the living room. The sliders led to a large, painted wooden deck. From the deck, they would have access to both Miss Harriet’s backyard and Melissa’s as well.

As they crossed the living room, Melissa glanced at Miss Harriet, face down in a large, garnet halo of blood. Sadness and guilt filled her. Her kindly neighbor, the person who had baked her cookies each Christmas and prepared every conceivable dessert for Melissa and her father after her mother’s death, was dead. And it was her fault. A wave of nausea washed over her. She had seen her deceased neighbor earlier, had spent the night in the same room as her, but the shock of being kidnapped by a veritable monster had superseded normal emotional responses. She had feared for her life. She had contended with more questions than her brain could process. Now, however, when presented with a far graver potential future and a moment of reprieve with Gabriel, reality settled in and weighed upon her.

Melissa shook her head as if the act alone would clear her mind. It did not of course. The image of her late neighbor remained, etched indelibly in her mind’s eye. She doubted it, along with so many other images she’d witnessed in the last five months, would ever disappear. She would deal with them another time. She had to get to her house safely and retrieve her father’s shotgun and plan an exit first. She looked away from Miss Harriet and focused on the sliding glass doors.

Once at the doors, Melissa, along with her friends, looked to Gabriel for further instructions.

Melissa’s heart maintained its dangerous pace as Gabriel opened the door and peered out.

“Yep. Easy-peasy,” Melissa heard herself speak with confidence she did not possess. In the dark recesses of her mind a nagging presentiment warned her that the task they were undertaking would be anything but easy, that it would prove a challenge unlike any they’d ever been presented with.

Forcing intuition from her thoughts, Melissa opened the glass storm door and stepped out concealment.

The darkness beyond Miss Harriet’s door loomed impenetrably, so solid in appearance it assumed a sinister life of its own. The profound gloom paired with Melissa’s churning imagination turned exceptionally darkened niches into portals that descended into unknown depths of hell and shadows into mythical harbingers of doom that, like cockroaches, crawled walls and fences, fleet and quivering, silently championing bloodshed and awaiting impending chaos.

She felt unsettled, walking into perfect darkness. In the most primitive portion of her mind, an inner voice dictated that she always move toward light and away from darkness. Each step she took into the blackness disoriented her further, contradicted an inherent demand for lightness and made her primitive voice scream that she turn back.

She heard Gabriel’s squishy footsteps behind her navigating the rain-saturated lawn.

As if he sensed her need for him at her side, he sped up and walk alongside her. They reached the porch that led to the family room at the rear of her house and, after climbing three steps, Melissa used her key to unlock the door.

“Maybe the psycho bastard locked up for Melissa. You know, you can never be too safe,” Alex joked and smiled wryly. But humor did not reach her eyes.

Melissa opened the door slowly and listened for sounds of movement. The house was still, save for the hum and buzz of major appliances. She stepped across the threshold but did not turn on any lights. She did not want to draw attention to their arrival, to possibly alert Eugene to their presence. Rather, she stepped quickly and cautiously through her blackened home, avoiding obstacles by employing her memory and mental maps. Gabriel, who possessed superior vision, followed her with ease as did Yoshi. Alex did not fare as well.

“Fuck!” Alex screamed as her legs tangled in a blanket haphazardly strewn on the family room floor. She caught herself before she tumbled to her knees.

“Guess the psycho locks up after he ransacks the place but doesn’t clean up after himself,” she grumbled loudly.

“Shhh!” Melissa admonished then whispered, “It was there a few days ago.”

“Oh shut up, Alex! We’re trying not to get killed here and you’re judging my housekeeping?”

“Knock it off you two,” Gabriel said gently then, to Yoshi he said, “Watch the driveway from the kitchen window. We’ll go up and get the gun.”

Yoshi took his post in front of the kitchen window and Melissa ascended the staircase quickly. Alex and Gabriel followed. Once inside her father’s room, her eyes scanned the area quickly and focused almost instantly on a rack upon which the Remington shotgun was mounted. Gabriel grabbed the gun while she searched the cabinet below it for ammunition.

“No. Two patrol cars just pulled into the driveway, lights on and everything. We need to go, now!”

“Forget it! We don’t have time,” he replied and replaced the Remington shotgun to its mount.

“Let’s go!” Alex said and dashed down the steps. Melissa and Gabriel followed.

As they opened the backdoor and stepped onto the porch, another series of knocks at the door made Melissa jump. She knew that in no time, the police officers would make their way to the back of the house, searching for whatever or whoever they were after. She could not be certain, but felt intuited that the police pursued her and her friends. They needed to leave, unseen by the officers. Such an endeavor would be tricky, near impossible. Gabriel’s car was parked farther down the road; to get to it, they would encounter the cops. Running back to Miss Harriet’s house posed the same problem. Melissa could not think of an acceptable escape route.

Shafts of light, approaching purposefully, distracted her from her escape route rumination. Sweeping from side to side, the beams sliced through the murkiness, illuminated the land at the side of her house.

Gabriel grabbed her arm and half-dragged her straight across her backyard and into the wooded area bordering her property.

Melissa’s feet moved faster than she ever imagined they possibly could. Alex kept pace with her while Gabriel and Yoshi remained to their rear. Melissa was sure they could both outrun she and Alex easily, but stayed back to ensure their safety.

Rain-soaked leaves canopied their pathway, sent water cascading at every stir. Wet and tangled brush underfoot made running next to impossible. Melissa struggled to keep her footing. The deeper they moved into the woods the darker it became, more dangerous. Branches lashed at her face. Undergrowth tugged at her ankles and feet. The air was heavy with moisture and smelled vaguely of fungus and decay. Melissa’s lungs burned as she pressed forward reluctant to inhale the thickening scent of rotted mushroom and tree bark. The scent, dank and dense, mixed with animal spoor, became overwhelming.

A thump beside her followed by a whispered profanity indicated that her friend had fallen. She halted her feet and was forced to gulp the putrid air.

“Ouch! Shit, I think I twisted my ankle,” Alex whispered. “Go! Go without me!”

“Just be quiet a minute,” Yoshi ordered her. “I’ll lead them away from you.”

Yoshi, who previously moved with the stealth and sense of direction of a nocturnal jungle cat, began running clumsily with his arms at his sides rustling and disturbing everything in his path. He crunched down hard on felled branches and twigs created a commotion. Distracted by the noise, the police officers traced their rays after him.

“Damn it! Why did he do that? They’re going to catch him for sure,” Alex said as she stood and faltered on her ankle.

“Not a chance,” Gabriel assured her. “There’s no way those town cops will be able to navigate the woods like him. Put one arm around Melissa’s shoulder and one around mine. We’ll get you out of here.”

“All right, that could work. We’re close to the edge of the woods where they open to the street,” Melissa said.

“I say we go for it,” Alex said and began hobbling quickly with Melissa and Gabriel’s assistance.

“Let’s go,” Gabriel rallied and picked up their pace by nearly carrying Alex to the border of the woods.

Once on pavement, Melissa felt heartened but only slightly. The Harbingers Falls Police Department was unlikely to relent. The reason they had for pursuing so doggedly, though unknown to Melissa as of yet, was clearly deemed sufficient enough to warrant two patrol cars and four officers. She did not slow for fear of being caught. She worried for Yoshi, imagined the only reason the police hadn’t bust through the trees after them was because they had caught him.

She ran, assisting her friend, across the street until headlights sent them searching for cover. Long beams of blue-tinted light carved through the murkiness and warned of an approaching vehicle. Fearful of another patrol car, or worse, Eugene, they found refuge behind a large, rectangular trash receptacle dropped in a driveway and filled with construction debris. They hunkered down along the length of the massive metal receptacle and waited for the rays to fan out as the car drew closer.

A flash in Melissa’s peripheral field of vision distracted her from her vigil. An animal or person darted from the woods. Low and crouched, it moved too quickly to be human, too stealthily.

Melissa, returned to reality, realized her misstep. She felt her cheeks burn with shame. Gabriel reached his hand out and took hers, gave it a gentle squeeze. She never understood how someone designed to be devoid of emotions managed to be so in tune with hers.

A rustling behind her, however, proved her earlier observation was neither worthy of shame nor a blunder. Gabriel turned immediately to see what approached. Footsteps advanced quickly.

Melissa touched Gabriel’s arm, felt the tension in his formidable muscles. He was poised to strike, alert and vigilant, no doubt employing each of his heightened senses to ascertain what loomed in their midst.

Without warning, Yoshi materialized from behind a shrub of the neighboring property.

“Shit, little man! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Alex whispered her admonishment.

“Good to see you in one piece,” Gabriel said. “Would have liked to see you coming and not been ready to kill you, but good to see you anyway.”

Melissa did not bother whisper-scolding Yoshi. She was too relieved to see him and not a mountain lion, lion-man or half-formed human descending upon them.

“A car, right there,” Gabriel pointed to where a vehicle drove with infinitesimal slowness. “There’s no floodlight on, so maybe it’s not the police.”

“Maybe the driver is lost, looking for an address or something. He’s going really slowly,” Alex offered.

“With our luck, that’s unlikely,” Melissa said and rose to look around the corner of the trash receptacle. She felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck raise as, upon closer inspection, she determined the car to be a police cruiser; a state police cruiser.

“No, but that’s a state police car just like the one from my driveway. I know it’s him. We have to go, now!”

Gabriel looked at her, and despite the darkness, conveyed a look of understanding.

“We have to move quickly and stay out of the light. If he catches even a glimpse of us, it’ll be too late,” Gabriel said and led the way.

Melissa, Alex and Yoshi followed moving quickly but cautiously. They traversed several yards in the neighborhood and skirted the perimeter of a playground before they reached the rear parking lot of Harbingers High School. Alex’s car was still parked exactly where she’d left it. Dozens of other cars surrounded it as the school hosted a rival town’s wrestling team. With the match under way, Melissa guessed they did not stand out among others milling about talking on their cell phones and smoking.

Gabriel elected to drive. Alex did not object. Instead, she climbed into the back seat of her own car beside Melissa.

“We have to figure out what the hell is going on, why the cops are after us,” Melissa said.

“We’ll likely find out if we go back to my old house. I bet Kevin and those other morons know something or are involved somehow. They might have tried to pin Eric’s murder on us,” Gabriel suggested.

“I don’t know, but first we have to find out what we’re dealing with,” Gabriel replied.

GABRIEL TURNED ALEX’S car key in the ignition of her red Mustang and the engine roared to life, eagerly awaiting his demand for speed. He depressed the gas pedal gingerly and the car responded with immediacy propelling them forward out of the parking space it rested in for several hours until a traffic light at the end of the long entrance path halted them. The engine rumbled anxiously as it idled, as if waiting patiently to be tested on an open road or highway. But Gabriel and his friends were not headed for a destination that required either. To the contrary, they would be traveling along back roads and side streets in hopes of remaining inconspicuous. The Mustang’s tight suspension and nimble handling hugged the narrow lanes and winding roads of Harbingers Falls. Gabriel obeyed each speed limit imposed, careful not to draw attention to them despite the showiness of the color and model option of Alex’s car.

He quickly arrived at the threshold of his former driveway thanks in part to minimal traffic and was stunned to see lights flashing in the distance. He slowed to a stop, turned off the headlights and squinted. At the end of the gravel-filled pathway red lights flickered incessantly from a multitude of vehicles. The colorful pulses of light, all blinking at different intervals, combined to form a visual discord so disorienting the effect was similar to that of a strobe light.

Gabriel could not be sure but he guessed Kevin, John and Chris were dead. The presence of several ambulances, a fire truck, three police cruisers and an SUV with the words County Coroner emblazoned on its doors suggested they were not just dead but that foul play was likely suspected. He was reluctant to tell her what he figured, what he knew had happened, but saw lying as both futile and an insult to her integrity.

Before he could answer her, paramedics and a man wearing a jacket with reflective letters announcing his position as County Coroner exited his front door. They maneuvered a stretcher with a covered body atop it. Behind them, more emergency personnel followed with matching stretchers, four in all.

“They’re dead, Melissa. Kevin, Chris and John are dead. Eugene was here, I’m sure of it,” Gabriel said.

“They killed Eric and Eugene killed them and we’re being chased by the cops?” Alex asked incredulously. “This is beyond a nightmare!”

“I don’t know for sure, but maybe he was unhappy that they weren’t able to stop us,” Gabriel offered.

Gabriel felt a shiver pass through him. His friend was likely right. Eugene did not merely kill for utilitarian purposes; he was not practical by any means. Whatever the reason for their death though, he and Melissa, along with their friends, had been indicated.

“Regardless of his sick reasoning, aren’t we better off or safer in jail than being hunted by him?” Melissa stated.

“He’s driving around in a cop car. I would imagine he’d get to us long before that happened,” Gabriel replied.

“You think he’d try to kill us in front of a bunch of cops?” Melissa asked.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. He could kill them just as easily as he could kill us from what you guys have told me,” Yoshi added.

“Yoshi’s right. He’d probably get some sick thrill out of it,” Gabriel agreed.

“If anyone lived to tell about what they saw, Eugene would disappear before a search for him even started. And with us dead, there would never be a reason for him to return,” Gabriel said solemnly.

Silence blanketed the car. Gabriel regretted his candor but felt everyone deserved to know the unfiltered truth about their circumstances and what they were up against. He looked to Melissa. Her eyes were filled with tears, her face oddly placid. She stared at the scene in the distance and brushed back silent tears with her fingertips.

Gabriel was mildly startled when Melissa leaned forward in her seat and pressed her face to the window.

“I know that cop,” she said pointing to one of the many uniformed officers. “That’s the jerk cop Chucky Miller that’s been harassing me.”

She pointed at him. Gabriel didn’t recognize him but suddenly felt the urge to punch him in his smug-looking face based solely on Melissa’s testimony.

“I know that asshole too,” Alex chimed in. “I’ve actually been pulled over by him. What a prick! He gave me a ticket for doing thirty-five in a thirty-mile per hour speed zone. Can you believe it! Worst part is, he was in his glory doing it, like he was all puffed up by it. He also kept looking down my shirt; fucking pervert.”

As Alex spoke, Gabriel watched as the officer looked up from his notebook and seemed to gaze in their direction. He felt certain Chucky Miller had noticed them and was looking right at them.

“Holy shit! He is looking right at us. We need to leave right now!” Alex exclaimed.

No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, Gabriel depressed the gas pedal. He did not turn on the headlights and he did not accelerate too quickly. He did not trust that the powerful engine would not accelerate beyond the ability of the tires to gain traction. Skidding on wet leaves would gain the attention of the entire group at his former house. As far as he could tell, Chucky Miller was the only officer who had spotted their car. He drove away slowly with Yoshi watching Officer Miller’s every move.

“Just keep driving slowly and don’t put on the headlights until we turn on to the next street,” Yoshi said calmly. “Once we turn, hit the gas.”

“He obviously suspects something, but he’s not telling the others,” Melissa said.

Gabriel felt a modicum of relief as he reached the stop sign at a near roll and made a left. He immediately turned on the headlights and stomped on the gas pedal. The Mustang sprung to life and launched forward with a rolling growl. He sped along weaving in and out of side streets until he reached a juncture in the road that would place them on one of two main thoroughfares.

Headlights rapidly approached from behind them. Alex twisted in her seat to get a better view.

“He hasn’t turned his lights on yet,” Yoshi said referring to the fact that Officer Miler had not yet engaged his emergency overhead lights.

“He’s probably calling in the plates. We’re screwed,” Melissa said to Alex.

Within seconds of her statement, Gabriel noticed the light bar atop his cruiser illuminated and emanated short, electronic pulses in blue and red.

“We can’t outrun the cops,” Gabriel said. “He’s not stupid. I’m sure he already called it in. There will be a dozen cops here in about two minutes. We’re going to have to try to explain the situation.”

Three automated beeps sounded from their rear signaling them to pull over. Reluctantly, Gabriel slowed and pulled to the shoulder. He looked up into the rear-view mirror of the Mustang and saw Officer Miller approaching cautiously with his firearm drawn. Gabriel lowered the driver’s side window.

“Get out of the car!” Officer Miller screamed. “And keep your hands where I can see them!”

Gabriel opened the driver’s side door and stepped out. Yoshi, Alex and Melissa followed.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Officer Miller bellowed. “If it isn’t Miss Melissa I-know-what-I-saw Martin. There are a whole lot of people looking for you right now.”

“The fuck you didn’t!” Officer Miller hissed. “Now put you prissy little hands on the car. Same goes for all of you!”

Gabriel felt his temper flare and roil at Chucky Miller’s sardonic tone, his insolence. However, he complied with the officer’s demands in hopes of persuading him to at least hear their version of matters. The notion seemed far-fetched, ridiculous even, given Officer Miller’s facial expression that could only be described as equal parts rage and exhilaration; he looked like a madman.

He watched as Officer Miller approached him and began to pat his body in search of a weapon. His inspection was brief. He patted the length of Gabriel’s leg from ankle to groin as well as his torso from armpit to waist. He quickly moved on to Yoshi and conducted a similar, albeit short, search before he turned to Alex and Melissa. A look of derangement flashed in his beady eyes and the wind stirred gently whipping his hair into a frizzy pompadour. He began with Alex and took his time, allowing his hands to linger about her chest. He then traced his hands in a slow serpentine motion down her torso to her legs then back up her inner thighs.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch! I’m conducting official police business here,” Officer Miller spat and continued his lewd groping. He cupped and squeezed her buttocks then leaned his pelvis against her backside. He slid his hand up her thigh again and was about to place it between her legs when a voice halted him.

“Get your hands off her,” Yoshi warned through his teeth and began to back away from the car, clearly riled. Yoshi advanced several steps, his stride confident, his jaw set resolutely. Gabriel had never seen his friend look upon another as fiercely as he looked upon Chucky Miller.

“You better stand-down and put your hands back on the car before I put a bullet in your head!” Officer Miller ordered as he backed his crotch away from Alex. He then strode up to Yoshi and placed the barrel of his revolver at his forehead.

Gabriel watched as Yoshi locked eyes with Officer Miller boldly, defiantly. He did not demonstrate the slightest hint of intimidation. Officer Miller had no idea who he was standing off against.

An additional patrol unit had arrived its headlamps bathed the confrontation between Yoshi and Officer Miller in a dizzying array of colors. Red, white and blue flashes throbbed from its roof rack and a double set of headlights glared.

“You’re lucky,” Officer Miller uttered as he quickly withdrew the barrel of his pistol from Yoshi’s forehead. He looked over his shoulder at the unit that arrived. “Very lucky.”

Gabriel squinted and shielded his eyes with his hand, despite cautions from Officer Miller. Initially, he could not discern any facial features or even the silhouette of the police officer that hesitated to exit his vehicle. When finally the driver’s side door opened and a leg emerged, followed by another, he was better able to gauge the officer’s physicality. He watched as the officer rose to his feet and stood with his fists balled at his hips, a mountainous shadow, broad, brawny, and colossally built. Gabriel immediately recognized the considerable outline; Eugene.

He was not alone in his immediate recognition. Melissa gasped and Alex whispered a profanity.

“Chucky, I mean Officer Miller, turn around,” Melissa began in a trembling voice. “That guy coming toward us is not a cop. You have to let us go. Please! He’s going to kill us.”

“Shut your mouth you murdering little bitch. You think I’m stupid?” Officer Miller replied and released his handcuffs from his utility belt.

The enormous shape moved slowly, deliberately toward them and paused after every few steps to inhale deeply as if savoring the scents in the air. Officer Miller remained fixated on their compliance. With handcuffs in one hand and his firearm in the other, Officer Miller appeared poised to discharge his weapon at the slightest hint of resistance.

EUGENE APPROACHED GABRIEL, Melissa, Alex and the mystery Asian man unhurriedly but with purpose. He halted from time to time to sniff the air. It had become saturated with the bodily secretions of all present. Adrenaline was the most prevalent note, pungent and acrid, indicative of intense emotions swirling about. He wrestled to contain the urge to charge them, tear each of their limbs from them and watch them die slowly. He knew he would have the opportunity to do just that but wanted to relish the moments leading up to it equally as much. Experience had broadened his knowledge base further regarding death, opened an anticipatory realm of enjoyment to him. He learned that delaying gratification made the final act all the more fulfilling.

Suppressing a shudder, he moved at a slow pace and saw only one officer detaining Gabriel and his pathetic human companions. He was surprised by how well his plan had worked out, how easily human beings were manipulated–even those in positions of authority. He listened as the officer, too pompous to heed their warnings, did not bother to turn around despite Melissa’s incessant pleas. He felt a swell of anger at the notion that the pathetic officer deemed himself too important, too powerful to acknowledge a member of the same species, that somehow his uniform and badge earned him a position of superiority. Superior humans seemed an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms. They were all fools, cattle awaiting slaughter.

Eugene felt his pace increase the angrier he became. He took larger steps, covering the distance between them faster and faster until he was arms-length from the armed policeman. In one swift motion, he grabbed the uniformed drone by the back of his head and smashed his face through the rear window of his cruiser. He immediately pulled him from the fractured glass and spun him to see if he had died. To Eugene’s delight, the officer lived.

“I guess you should have listened to the murdering bitch,” he sneered then watched as a look of horror clouded his expression.

The tortured guise of pain and the smell of blood threatened to frenzy him. He longed to kill him slowly, watch as each shred of life escaped him, but knew Melissa and her friends had scattered. Their deaths would be slow. He would have time to spend on them. He breathed deeply to control the fitful rage that coursed through his veins as he raised his free hand and clutched the officer by the throat. He stared into his eyes and thought about the affectation produced by the drab uniform and tin badge he donned. Eugene clamped his massive hand and applied every ounce of his might. He felt bone yield beneath his grip and saw the officer’s eyes widen and bulge briefly before staring straight ahead vacantly, lifelessly.

A ripple tore through Eugene, involuntary and powerful. He doubled over in exhilaration and noticed the gun that lay on the ground by his feet. He abhorred guns. He promptly picked up the deceased man’s armament and released the bullets from its chamber before rocketing it into the black abyss. He returned his focus to Gabriel, Alex, Melissa and the small Asian man. They looked on in shock, in horror. They had spread out temporarily only to return to their cluster formation, well aware that running would be futile. They knew they could not outrun him, could not hide from him. There was no escape. He would always find them. They had no choice but to fight.

Eugene stepped toward Gabriel and saw in his peripheral vision that the small man had scampered toward the dead officer and grabbed the nightstick from his utility belt. As he turned toward the scurrying man, Gabriel attacked from behind. Eugene turned and swung but missed. Gabriel appeared to move faster than he had previously, and more skillfully. He even managed to land several blows against Eugene’s body but the blows were ineffective; they did not slow him.

Without warning, he felt the nightstick land against the back of his head. Eugene howled out angry and frustrated, he turned only to feel the same weapon strike his face. The small man managed to hit him not once, but twice. He moved with remarkable speed for a human, an attribute that served to both vex and impress Eugene. Presented with a worthy adversary, he began to enjoy himself. No longer willing to repeat the mistake of underestimating his opponent, he paid closer attention to the stick wielding man as he advanced again and launched a fast, dextrous attack.

Though the man was fast, he was still only fast by human standards. Eugene caught the nightstick mid-swing and grabbed the assailant by the collar of his shirt. He then effortlessly tossed him into the windshield of the cruiser. Glass exploded and showered in every direction. Unfazed by the shards of shattered windshield, Eugene, motivated by a single purpose, moved toward his diminutive adversary eager to kill.

Gabriel, determined to thwart his objective, jumped in front of him and landed a powerful punch to his throat. A burst of pain accompanied by difficulty breathing disoriented him temporarily. He wheezed and gasped and tried to catch his breath. As he coughed and sputtered, Gabriel seized opportunity to strike him in the nose. Eugene was not certain but guessed his nasal septum had been comprised. His hands reflexively went to his nose, which bled profusely. Gabriel spun and kicked him, hard, in the abdomen. He felt himself fall backward and slam into the parked car, before falling to the ground.

Vitriol held him as an unpleasant but not entirely unfamiliar sensation burned through him: disgrace. Eugene had been disgraced and humiliated by Stein’s failed champion. The love-struck answer to the mistakes of humanity had successfully broken his nose and managed to topple him. But he would not enjoy victory for long.

Eugene sprung to his feet and straightened himself, flexing each of his imposing muscles simultaneously. He felt the power of pure hatred surge through him, energize him. Nourished by fury, he was prepared to unleash the fullest extent of his wrath ever. His insides quavered violently as his inherent bloodlust motivated him as never before. Gabriel advanced again, undoubtedly intending to assail him with another of his uninspiring new martial arts maneuvers. Eugene halted Gabriel’s attack, however, by launching his large fist forward almost instantaneously and blasted him in the chest. On impact, he detected the sound of at least two ribs fracturing. Gabriel clutched his midsection and Eugene swung his hand connecting the backside of it with Gabriel’s face. He watched as Gabriel fell to the ground but did not waste time. He wanted to rectify the disgrace he’d instigated. He walked toward him panting with excitement, fighting to not succumb to an all-encompassing shudder that would render him paralyzed by elation, and began to kick and stomp at him.

The harder he kicked the more exhilarated he became, the more challenging fending off the euphoric blackout became. Sweat poured from his brow as he continued his blitz. It wasn’t until a whimper of despair distracted him and caused him to reconsider his course of attack. Melissa huddled with her friend at the front of the shiny red car they arrived in. He left Gabriel, a battered mass of flesh, where he lay and moved to Melissa.

“Now you’re going to watch her die before I kill you,” he said and enjoyed the tortured look of misery on Gabriel’s face as he tried desperately to rise to his feet.

Eugene pulled Melissa by her frail arm and realized he would enjoy murdering her with a terrified audience more than he could have imagined. He would kill her slowly and satisfy two needs at once: his savagery and Gabriel’s misery. Both entertained him. Both thrilled him.

With Melissa’s willowy arm dwarfed by his enormous hand, he swung her toward him and swung his cupped free hand at her concurrently. The impact of his hand against her cheek produced a loud whack and sent her flimsy body backward until it collapsed against the car. He had hit her hard enough to hurt her, but not kill her. He dared not sully the climax of his torture with a quick death.

As he loomed over her deciding precisely how to brutalize her, a high-pitched sound tore through the night and pierced the darkness. The sound was unlike any he’d ever heard before. It slashed at his eardrums with razor-sharp shrillness. He covered his ears against it and turned in the direction of the sound. From the darkened shadows surrounding the three vehicles, a hunched and hulking shape emerged. Best described as a partially formed human, Eugene saw the creature just as it lunged at him. He did not have time to raise his arms protectively or step out of its path. It was immediately upon him.

THE FACELESS MAN HAD been following Melissa since she left her unkind neighbor’s house earlier. She and her friends had not seen him but he had traveled alongside them invisibly the entire evening. He had worried that she might need him and remained with her without her knowledge like a shadow, ever-present but not considered. He moved through the darkness, as he had since leaving Stein’s underground laboratory, cloaked by the velvety blackness of nighttime skirting side streets and exerting himself to keep pace with Melissa and her friends once they commandeered a shiny red car. It had been difficult for him to keep up with them once they were no longer on foot but he pushed himself hard, tested the limits of his strength and endurance.

He had followed her, not for his own selfish reasons, but to protect her if she needed protection. He knew that protection was inherent in the social contract of friendship. Threatening forces conspired against her and her friends. He had been certain he would be needed. Police had chased them. The large, frightening creature that he had rescued from the ambulance for Stein had pursued them as well. He had vivid memories of the monster. He saw now that it had angry eyes and a cruel smile.

He watched from the wooded area beyond the street in shock as Gabriel and a small, Asian man attempted to fight the beast, to overcome it. They could not defeat it as he’d hoped. The monster was too powerful. And very mean.

He listened intently for ugly words to befall the monsters pressed lips. It did not speak much, but when it did, its words resonated through the faceless man. It said it was going to kill Melissa, his friend. He edged closer to the street, his fist balled at his sides tightly and his breath came in short, shallow pants. He watched the monster stalk toward Melissa and yank her by her slender arm. He felt his fingernails break the skin of his palms as he clenched tighter and tighter, tensing the formidable muscles of his forearms and biceps. Then to his horror, he saw the monster raise its massive hand and strike her; he knew in that instant that it intended to make good on his threat. He knew the monster was going to kill her.

A strange sensation surged through the faceless man, an inexplicable phenomenon akin to a bolt of lightning flashing through his core. Horror, anger and fear merged and sliced through him like a high-voltage current. He opened his mouth and produced a sound heretofore unheard in nature; a sound as strange and dangerous as the reaction his body was producing.

From a dark recess of his crux, he emitted a primitive warning to the beast that dared harm his friend. He would not allow for her to be killed, and notified his adversary of impending conflict. The same energy that flared within him set him into motion. He ran as fast as his legs would allow and burst through the brush exploding against the behemoth brute. His arms wrapped around it, locked it immediately in an unrelenting grip. He buried his face against it. As soon as he felt his face connect with the monster’s flesh he opened his mouth and bit down, hard into his neck.

The monster swatted at him, wriggled and flailed. Its blows were more powerful than he could have ever imagined; each one felt as if a sledgehammer had drilled against his body. It attempted to rake his eyes, scratching and clawing with animalistic ferocity. But he did not let go, knew he must not let go. He did not release his arms from their powerful encirclement and did not relax his jaw. Pain radiated from every part of his body, but the faceless man refused to relinquish his grip. His jaw clamped down squarely on the beast’s throat, he felt a warm gush of metallic-tasting fluid drain from it profusely.

Though the monster bled, he still managed to pound at him, battering and injuring him. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Melissa, wounded and frail, and bit down harder. He felt the beast’s windpipe crush beneath the compression of his jaw and immediately felt the monster’s assaults weaken. Still, he did not retreat; he did not renounce his rigor. He twisted his clinched teeth and felt the tension that once existed in monster slacken. Still, he did not let go. Blood flowed from its torn neck and dripped from his own mouth.

In the time it took to empty life from the monster, the faceless man had not noticed the arrival of several police cars. He did not see the uniformed men climb from their vehicles and train their pistols on him. They shouted at him from every direction, a hideous cacophony of warnings and expletives. He did not understand what all of the urgency was about; the monster was dead, his friend was safe. He had done something noble, yet the uniformed men with their guns aimed at him did not seem to agree.

He released the lifeless beast, watched as it fell to the ground. He reached a hand to his chin, felt the blood and matter beneath his fingertips and realized he must look frightening to them. He took a step toward the officers, trying desperately to gesture his intentions and the circumstances of the monster’s death but the armed men did not seem to care. Instead, they seemed to mistake him for the monster when, in fact, he had saved his friend from one.

They did not understand his gestures, that he did not mean them any harm. He put his arms up with his hands facing them, palms turned outward to signal his cooperation. He stepped forward and heard a thunderous sound ring out followed by searing pain in his shoulder. A bullet had penetrated his flesh, lodged somewhere in his upper arm.

He looked up to see Melissa screaming, urging the armed men to stop firing at him. Her face was distraught, worry creased her face; she was concerned for him. He staggered toward her, moved a fraction of a footstep in her direction and felt a stinging blast against his thigh and then another in his unwounded arm.

“Leave him alone!” Melissa shrieked. “He didn’t do anything! Stop shooting! Please!”

Tears poured from her eyes, tears for him. Melissa showed the truest mark of compassion; she wept for her friend. He was her friend.

He felt the next bullet tear into his chest, felt an unimaginable explosion of pain emanate from it. He struggled to stay on his feet as he clutched his chest, and realized that someone cared about him; someone loved him. He was Melissa’s friend. It was the first time in his short existence that he was truly happy.

The faceless man outstretched his arms desperately trying to reach his friend and embrace her. His legs gave out from beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground. From his prone position he gazed up at her a final time before the world grew dark.

DR. STEIN, A MAN WHO prided himself on being detached, felt enraged. Each hour that passed without communication with Eugene or the clones caused him to unravel further. Clearly, something had gone wrong. Despite enacting a secondary plan, Stein’s strategy had been hindered, possibly obliterated.

He felt his hands tremble with ire and frustration as they grasped a wooden holder with four test tubes inside. He hurled it against the far wall. Glass exploded in every direction as the test tubes caused innumerable, microscopic slivers of dichroic matter to ricochet in every direction. Light that seeped in from his room darkening shades and thwarted his need for darkness reflected and refracted in the glass slivers and lent them the appearance of glitter. But there was nothing shining about the current moment he was experiencing; it appeared as though he had failed once again.

Ignoring the shimmering mess at his feet, he began to pace stroking his chin feverishly. He wondered whether any of the three teenage clones lived. Surely if any of them lived, they would have called long ago to inform him of their success, of Gabriel’s demise.

In all likelihood, Gabriel lived and was well aware of the fact that he’d dispatched the clones, as well as Eugene, to destroy him. He even entertained the possibility that Gabriel had shared his generous amount of information and working knowledge of the cloning that took place with the authorities.

He did not have time to waste on such speculations. He had more important work to tend to. Furthermore, Gabriel had no idea where he was. Regardless of the information he decided to share-or not share-with authorities, Stein was confident that no one would find him in time to stop what he was about to start. His hands stopped trembling. A sense of satisfaction usurped feelings of frustration and doubt. He calmly walked out of his laboratory and left the broken glass where it was. He would clean it later.

Once outside, the daylight was blinding. White light singed his corneas, caused his eyes to sting and tear. He squinted uncomfortably and walked faster to the main house. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth with it to protect his respiratory system from the dusty, smog-filled air. He could not get indoors and out of the pollution-riddled environment soon enough.

Relieved, he reached his back door, crossed the threshold and stood in his kitchen gulping the purified air of his residence hungrily. He went to the sink and immediately washed his hands and face with antibacterial soap and scalding hot water. As soon as he felt sufficiently cleansed of the atmosphere beyond his home, he moved down a long corridor to a door that led to his basement. He descended a flight of steps and was instantly comforted by what he saw. Sixty development tanks, neatly arranged in rows, filled the over-sized space. In each, a partially formed human being was growing and maturing, awaiting its birth.

The realization of Gabriel’s flaws, as well as Eugene’s, had prompted a sweeping transformation in his thought processes and caused him to realize the weakness in his original plan. Initially, he had planned to have Gabriel integrate into society slowly, seamlessly. The goal was for Gabriel to be the linchpin in his ultimate strategy of transforming society as a whole. His original plan had been far too subtle, though. He had never fully embraced subtlety but had thought it necessary given his former governmental affiliations. Freed of his previous associations and dead according to global authorities, he could embark on a more aggressive approach. He could begin the rebirth of society with the release of his first legion of his new race. Together, they could expand and create more like them. With sixty fully formed beings capable of reproduction, with heightened fertility and a far shorter gestational period after conception, their numbers would multiply quickly.

His army of beings would busy themselves with reproduction and assist with creating more development tanks. While they worked at their respective projects, he would be able to finally complete his experimentation with fetal enhancement in-utero and possess the irresistible ability to change all of mankind thereby eradicating the possibility of a woman ever birthing a flawed individual. His goal was lofty, but attainable. And since he currently resided in a location unknown to Gabriel, there would be no one to prevent him from achieving it. If Gabriel still lived and somehow managed to locate him, his efforts would be in vain, his timing poor. In the time it would take him to travel from Harbingers Falls to Santa Ynez, the first legion of beings would be born already and would have begun the initial change. His legion would quickly grow to an army, an army led by him. The world needed an exalted person such as himself capable of enlightened thinking and grand ideas with the talent to deliver meaningful results. After all, humanity was so flawed, only the brightest most talented among them could commence a transformation of such magnitude.

He knew the transformation would take time; his project was multifaceted. But patience and diligence would yield rewards beyond measure. He would not only succeed where God had failed, he would replace God altogether and be heralded as the person responsible for ending war and crime, hate and violence, the Savior of Civilization. He would be known as the Creator of the perfect civilization.

MELISSA SPOTTED GABRIEL immediately as she emerged from the Harbinger Falls Police Department. He had received medical treatment shortly after officers shot the creature that saved her. His face was badly bruised and swollen but remained handsome nevertheless. His arm dangled in a white sling and his ribs had been taped in place. He looked battered.

She quickly closed the distance between them eager to be at his side despite the stiffness she felt in her back, an injury incurred from being thrown into Alex’s Mustang.

“I’m fine. It looks worse than it feels,” she lied and touched her fingertips to an angry welt on her cheekbone.

“I’m not sure I believe you,” he said and leveled his cerulean eyes at her. He regarded her with such concern, she believed he was not looking, in fact, but gazing into the depths of her psyche and drawing from it truths she would have rather concealed.

She felt her face blaze with warmth and was certain her pallor was replaced with rosiness. “All right, if you must know, it feels every bit as bad as it looks. There. Does that make you happy?”

“Damn fuckin’ straight it is,” Alex announced from the top of the police department steps. “If it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened.”

“Please what? You know it’s true. But we like him, so we put up with monsters chasing us, almost getting locked up for murders we didn’t commit.”

In the shadow cast by the sodium vapor street lights outside the police department, Alex’s face was obscured. Melissa could not be sure whether her friend was joking around or being serious. She hoped for Gabriel’s sake, Alex was kidding.

“Oh save the cow eyes for her,” Alex gestured to Melissa. “I was involved as soon as that Eugene creature came into my house and scared me shitless. I was glad to see him die. I could’ve done without all the blood and gore of it but therapy will help, I’m sure. And seeing old Miss Harriet dead and Eric was pretty horrifying, also.”

“No apologies, seriously. Besides, I never would have met that pain in the ass,” Alex said and gestured to Yoshi as he walked through the glass doors of the building and began descending the concrete stairs.

Melissa was sure her friend had intended for him to hear the compliment; that Alex enjoyed toying with him. If it were anyone else, she would believe there was flirtation between them. But Alex was not a flirt. When she liked a boy, she was anything but shy about it. Furthermore, Yoshi was unlike the boys Alex usually showed interest in. Every guy, regardless of his age, showed interest in her but she was very selective with whom she bestowed her attention. Yoshi, who was completely unaware of Alex’s preferences or patterns, beamed unabashedly and absorbed any attention she offered. Melissa could not help but smile at whatever may or may not be going on between them.

“Everyone seemed really freaked out. They seemed to be under the impression something monumental had occurred here, that what they killed was an alien or something.”

“Yes,” Gabriel answered. “And that’s where things get complicated with the investigation.”

Melissa watched and listened as Gabriel returned their conversation to the matter at hand, deferring any further discussion that may delve into the nature of Stein’s work until a more appropriate time.

“They have no proof that any of us were involved of course; only suspicion. They can’t hold me, just like they can’t hold any of you.”

Melissa had already heard everything Gabriel had just said. Only when it was explained to her by the police officer questioning her, a far different spin had been put on the story. During her interview, the officer seemed intent on extricating some elusive key piece of information from her and of convincing her that she was nothing more than a pawn in an elaborate murderous plot. Melissa resented every implication. She did retain crucial information but vowed to die with it or rot in jail in its company rather than offer it to the authorities.

“Eugene also had a dead cop stuffed in his trunk and the cell phone that placed the 9-1-1 call in his pocket,” Gabriel stated.

“And the massive bruises on the dead bodies at your old house were all consistent with his fists,” Melissa added.

“And we all kept the same story, that Eugene was responsible for everything,” Melissa said.

Melissa noticed that Yoshi remained silent as they discussed their separate interrogations.

Melissa and Gabriel laughed as well but neither she nor he offered profanity-laced praise.

“They tried. They got a Korean guy, then a Chinese woman but my dialect is obsolete. No one speaks the dialect but the Monpa people from my village.”

She watched as Alex nearly doubled over with laughter. She exchanged a worried glance with Gabriel and tried to nonverbally communicate her fear that her friend was unraveling. He returned her concerned expression with a shrug and a sly smirk. Melissa was about to nudge him when she noticed Alex’s signature hair flip. The gesture was reserved solely for those she wished to flirt with; it supported her suspicion that her friend was flirting with Yoshi.

Inspired, Melissa tipped her chin up to Gabriel and looked lovingly at him. Far too much time had passed since she felt his lips against hers. After all they’d been through, all of the death they had witnessed and encountered, she longed for normality, for a semblance of warmth and affection.

Once again, Gabriel seemed to read her mind simply by looking into her eyes. He leaned forward and gently touched her lips with his. The tender skin of his mouth barely grazed hers, his reluctance an obvious result of his injuries. She knew that bending was a challenge for him, that twisting was torturous. She did not wish to cause him anguish. Instead, she stepped in front of him despite her back that complained with each footfall. She cupped his bruised face in her hands and kissed him carefully.

Melissa felt the pain and madness of the days leading up to the moment her mouth met his seep from her. She did not fret about the police or her father’s early return from his poker tournament. She did not worry about impending punishment. Horrific memories were purged from her mind’s eye for just a moment. And she felt euphoric.

“Ahem,” Alex cleared her throat exaggeratedly. “Okay, break it up you two or I’ll have to get a hose or something.”

Melissa reluctantly released Gabriel’s face from her hands and slowly backed away from him. Only slightly embarrassed as opposed to utterly mortified, she scowled at her friends. Yoshi laughed loudly. Alex chuckled and smiled coyly at him.

“Let me guess, you have to leave again or else Stein will send something else after me,” Melissa heard herself say and immediately regretted the infantile tone of her voice and biting nature of her words.

“I’m not leaving you again,” Gabriel assured her, ignoring her juvenile accusation.

No one spoke immediately. Melissa processed the notion of a premeditated killing. She gathered her friends were considering the gravity of what Gabriel proposed just as she did.

No one seemed to fully understand what his words meant; Melissa certainly did not. She assumed it was information he would disclose when the time was right but guessed it had more to do with Stein and the fact that he was engineered in a very deliberate fashion that it did with moral rectitude.

“I’ll do it then,” Yoshi surprised her by declaring. “I will kill Stein.”

“He’s tried to kill all of us, so it is our fight; all of us,” Melissa said.

“Shit yeah!” Alex rallied. “But should we really be talking about offing the scumbag on the steps of the police department?”

“I don’t know, but we are going to have to figure it out, fast, before it’s too late,” Gabriel concluded.

Melissa looked at Gabriel; there was no denying the truth of what he said. She knew they had to find Stein before he had a chance to send another of his creatures after them, that their lives were at stake. If they failed at stopping Dr. Franklin Stein, their fate was all but sealed.

Jennifer and Christopher Martucci hoped that their life plan had changed radically in early 2010. To date, the jury is still out. But late one night, in January of 2010, the then stay-at-home mom of three girls under the age of six had just picked up the last doll from the playroom floor and placed it in a bin when her husband startled her by declaring, “We should write a book, together!” Wearied from a day of shuttling the children to and from school, preschool and Daisy Scouts, laundry, cooking and cleaning, Jennifer simply stared blankly at her husband. After all, the idea of writing a book had been an individual dream each of them had possessed for much of their lives. Both had written separately in their teens and early twenties, but without much success. They would write a dozen chapters here and there only to find that either the plot would fall apart, or characters would lose their zest, or the story would just fall flat. Christopher had always preferred penning science-fiction stories filled with monsters and diabolical villains, while Jennifer had favored venting personal experiences or writing about romance. Inevitably though, frustration and day-to-day life had placed writing on the back burner and for several years, each had pursued alternate (paying) careers. But the dream had never died. And Christopher suggested that their dream ought to be removed from the back burner for further examination. When he proposed that they co-write a book on that January night, Jennifer was hesitant to reject the idea outright. His proposal sparked a discussion, and the discussion lasted deep into the night. By morning, the idea for their first series was born.

The Dr. Frank N. Stein series, as well as the Arianna Rose series and the Planet Urth series, The Vampire Extinction series and the Demon Hunter series are works that were written while Jennifer and Christopher continued about with their daily activities and raised their young children. They changed diapers, potty trained and went to story time at the local library and served as room parents. All while writing. Life simply continued. And in some ways, their everyday lives were reflected in the characters of each series.

As the story line continues to evolve, so too does the Martucci collaboration. Lunches are still packed, the “Mom taxi” still exists and time remains a valued and precious in their household. All has grown and changed. Jennifer and Christopher agree that the sound of happy chaos is the true background music of their writing. They hope that all enjoy reading their work as much as they enjoyed writing it.

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