Altered Genes : Revelations: Altered Genes, #2

By Mark K. Kelly

Friend or Foe…The difference isn't always obvious.

In a world ravaged by a global pandemic, a remote Canadian farm community is the perfect place to hide—or is it?

For world-renowned geneticist, Professor Tony Simmons, and the small group of survivors who escaped with him, it might not be.

Desperate to find the equipment and resources needed to develop a cure, Simmons is forced to leave the safety of his quiet farm and venture into a world overrun by desperate survivors, roaming gangs of killers, and renegade soldiers.
 

Out amongst the chaos, Simmons finds pockets of civilization and it's up to him to convince the people living in them to join his efforts to protect the one person who can save them all—because without her, there is no hope, only despair.

But will he succeed?

Get the second book in the action-packed Altered Genes trilogy and find out.

Perfect for fans of Michael Crichton, Robin Cooke or William R. Forstchen.

The Altered Genes Trilogy consists of:

Altered Genes : Genesis

Altered Genes : Revelations

Altered Genes : Resurrection

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark K. Kelly
• Release date: Dec 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9780994740519

Book preview

1

Sounds in the night

Mei bolted awake. Something had disturbed her sleep. She heard Lucia breathing, a soft whistling sound that came and went as the Latina woman’s chest rose and fell with each breath. Outside, the field crickets chirped their nightly song in an uninterrupted symphony. She might have been dreaming, but she could have sworn there was something moving outside the farmhouse. She fixed her eyes on the open window and concentrated, listening harder.

There it was again—the imperceptible sound of footsteps in the grass. Careful not to make any noise, she flicked the thin cotton sheet aside and hung her legs over the edge of the bed.

What is it? Lucia asked.

I thought I heard something.

Where?

Outside.

I’ll check.

Lucia slipped silently out of bed. She padded softly across the room. In the faint light of the quarter-moon, she was nothing more than a shadow.

See anything?

No, Lucia said after a moment. She lingered at the window and then returned to the side of the bed. In the dark, Mei heard the sound of jeans being zipped, and then the scraping of metal on wood as Lucia grabbed her pistol off the nightstand. The gun was always within arm’s reach. Once, Mei had opened the door to the outhouse and caught Lucia sitting on the toilet with the pistol resting on the wooden seat beside her.

Where are you going? she asked.

Outside. Stay here.

Wait for me, I’m coming with you.

Not without your gun. Do you even know where it is?

Uh…downstairs in the cupboard above the sink…I think.

Lucia sighed in exasperation. Come on, then. We will get it and then go outside to check.

Should we wake Tony?

Yes, tell him to stay inside and watch the girls. I will meet you at the back door.

As Lucia slipped out of the bedroom and into the hallway, Mei heard the wooden floorboards in the old farmhouse creak and groan. She quickly dressed and tiptoed past the first bedroom where Saanvi and Emma were asleep. She stopped at the door to the second and cracked it open.

Tony…wake up.

His snoring was so loud she doubted he could even hear her voice. She stepped into the room and hissed, Tony, wake up!

W-what’s wrong? his groggy voice called out in the dark.

There’s someone outside.

Shit! Stay here. I’ll go check, he said, jumping out of bed.

She grabbed his arm. No, Lucia’s already gone. Stay inside with the girls. It’s probably nothing—just an animal or something. Besides, were you going to go out like that?

He looked down at his boxers. I can get dressed.

We’ll be fine. Just stay here, she said and dashed to the stairs before he had time to argue. She knew he wouldn’t leave the girls alone—especially Saanvi.

When Mei reached the kitchen, Lucia was waiting for her by the back door with a pistol in each hand.

Here, Lucia said, handing her one of the guns. It was in the drawer, not the cupboard. It’s loaded. I checked. Next time, bring it to bed with you. She slipped the door open. Mei followed her outside.

The air was still and humid. It sat heavy in Mei’s lungs and she held her breath and swept her eyes over the yard. Everything looked different in the night. The giant lilac bushes were dark mountains. Laundry that had been left on the clothesline appeared as ghostly figures floating a few feet above the ground.

Lucia tapped her on the shoulder and pointed. Mei glanced towards the small barn that had been converted into a garage. Every few seconds, the glimmer of a flashlight appeared in the window. She saw a shadow move along the back wall where the door to the root cellar was located.

I see them, she whispered to Lucia. How many are there?

Just two—one in the barn and the other in the garden.

Mei turned towards the garden and ran her eyes along the rows of carefully tended plants. A silhouetted figure stood hunched over, stuffing vegetables into a bag.

You get the one in the garden, Lucia said. I will get the one in the garage.

Mei scurried across the yard and hid behind a trellis supporting a thick mass of climbing pole beans. She watched a young boy yank carrots out of the ground by the handful and stuff them into a pillowcase. When he reached down to grab more, she stepped out and spoke.

Don’t move, I have a gun.

The boy turned and looked over his shoulder at her. In the moonlight, she saw the white of his eyes, two cue balls in a sea of dark. He blinked once and took off like a banshee.

Damn it.

She chased after him, but it wasn’t anywhere close to an even match. He was half-way across the yard when she stumbled out of the garden and saw him open the door and disappear into the garage.

Mei clenched her teeth and ran. When she pushed open the garage door, Lucia stood a few feet in front of their visitors with a flashlight in one hand and her gun in the other. She looked over at Mei and raised an eyebrow.

He ran away, Mei said, bent over and out of breath.

I’m not a he, and for your information, I don’t look anything like a boy.

The girl was eleven or twelve-years-old with her hair chopped short in a pageboy cut. She stood with her arms folded across her chest and her lips pushed out in a pout.

Lucia bit back a smile.

Unsure whether she was angrier at the child’s attitude or at having their food stolen, Mei snatched the pillowcase out of the girl’s hand and angrily said, Those carrots weren’t ready to be harvested.

The girl moved closer to a woman who draped a protective arm around her shoulder. The woman’s eyes darted about nervously. She glanced at the door as if she expected someone else to walk through it.

They aren’t from around here, Mei thought. Their clothing was clean and they looked as if they had washed in the last few days. Both wore bandanas around their neck. The woman saw Mei staring at hers and pulled it up over her mouth. Then she reached for the child’s, but the girl brushed the woman’s hand away and pulled her own bandana up. Mei didn’t bother to tell them that the bandanas were useless against the bacteria.

What do you want? Lucia asked.

We smelled the smoke from your stove and kept walking until we found the house, the woman said. I’m sorry. My daughter is hungry. When we saw the garden, we knew you had food. We were only going to take a little and leave.

And go where? Lucia asked and frowned. The farmhouse was literally in the middle of nowhere.

East, I guess. Away from Toronto.

Is that where you came from? Mei asked.

The woman nodded.

Lucia let out a skeptical whistle. Toronto was more than two hundred miles away—two hundred miles of motorcycle gangs, desperate survivors, and endless hardship.

We had a car, the woman explained, but we ran out of gas two days ago.

Mei was even more surprised by that. In the months since the pandemic had started, gasoline had become increasingly rare. It was almost priceless. These two were either lucky—or something else. She didn’t know what.

Please… the woman pleaded. She looked at them and apologized. I’m sorry, but if you let us go, we won’t ever come back. She placed her arm on the girl’s shoulder and pushed her towards the door.

You should not have stolen from us, Lucia said. Others would not be so forgiving. Get out of here before I change my mind. She stepped back, opening a path to the door.

The girl pulled away from her mother and glowered at Lucia. You’re mean. You have lots of food. It isn’t fair. You should let us take some.

Lucia’s face darkened with anger. She stepped sideways, blocking the girl’s path to the door and said, You have no manners. I will teach you some. Then she raised her pistol and aggressively racked the slide, swapping the already chambered round with one from the magazine. The gun made a loud menacing mechanical noise, and the ejected round tumbled through the air, landing at the girl’s feet.

The girl’s eyes widened in terror and she stepped back into her mother’s arms. I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.

It is not my decision to make, Lucia said sternly. She turned and winked at Mei. We should have a trial, correct?

Sure, Mei replied, baffled by Lucia’s actions.

I can pay you, the girl’s mother cried out. Just let us go. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two gold coins.

Mei stared at the wealth in the woman’s palm. You couldn’t eat the coins if you were hungry, but they would buy a month of food. She had no idea why someone with that much money would be stealing carrots in the night.

Put your money away, Lucia said. The child is in no danger, but she needs to learn her manners. Then Lucia gave Mei a look, indicating that she wanted to speak privately. Mei followed her out of the garage. They stood by the door where they could keep an eye on the woman and child. They are running from something or someone, Lucia said with the certainty of someone who had been in that position.

Who? The people that they stole the gold from?

Perhaps…I do not know.

What do you want to do?

Let them stay overnight. It is too dangerous for them to travel in the dark. In the morning, they can help in the garden. It is an appropriate punishment and perhaps we will learn something.

Are you sure?

Yes. I will keep watch over them.

They stepped back into the garage. Lucia placed her hands on her hips and stared at the mother and daughter. You must make amends for the damage you have caused. Tomorrow, you will work in our garden.

The woman gave a resigned nod. We’ll do whatever you want us to do, but we need to leave as soon as we’re done.

You will be allowed to leave, Lucia said. She looked at Mei. Go to bed, I will watch them.

Mei hesitated for a moment. She trusted Lucia implicitly, but having strangers, even captive ones, so close was a risk to everyone.

Go, it will be fine, Lucia said, shooing Mei out the door with a wave of her hand.

When Mei returned to the farmhouse, a voice spoke from inside the dark kitchen. What was it? Is everything all right?

Damn it, Tony. You scared the crap out of me.

Sorry. What’s going on? he asked, stepping out of the shadows and leaning past her to look outside. Where’s Lucia?

She told him about the mother and daughter.

Is it safe having them here overnight? he asked.

I think so. They don’t appear dangerous and Lucia is guarding them.

She chuckled. You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Lucia’s becoming a bit of a softie.

He snorted out loud. That woman doesn’t know the meaning of soft. She probably wants to keep them for slave labor. In any case, I’m going back to bed. With Wonder Woman on the job, we can all sleep soundly tonight.

He turned and headed towards the stairs. Mei stood alone in the dark, listening to his footsteps on the floor and then the sound of his bedroom door closing. He was probably right. If Lucia thought there wasn’t any risk, then there probably wasn’t.

2

Slave Labor

Emma stood at the counter staring at the soapy, room-temperature water in the kitchen sink. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the tiny chunks of oatmeal bobbing and weaving amongst the bubbles. Washing dishes in cold water was gross. She looked out the window and nearly dropped the bowl in her hand.

Professor Simmons, come quick, she said, waving the bowl and sending water everywhere.

Droopy-eyed, he looked up from his breakfast and spoke. What is it?

There are two people in our garden.

I know.

You know?

He nodded. Mei and Lucia caught them stealing food last night.

What are they doing here?

Beats me…slave labor, maybe? He smiled wryly and went back to his breakfast.

She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant and then closed it. Sometimes, talking to him was like talking to a brick wall but at least he wasn’t rude all the time like Lucia. The stairs creaked, and Emma looked over, half-expecting to see Lucia’s sour face glaring at her.

Hiya. Saanvi gave her a cheerful wave and then said, Good Morning, Professor Simmons.

Simmons grunted a greeting without looking up from his food. Emma shook her head. Watching him eat was like watching a pig eating out of its trough.

She smiled at Saanvi and beckoned to her. We have visitors. Come here and see.

Really, who?

Saanvi ran to the window. She stood on her tiptoes and peered out. She gave Emma a puzzled look. Who are they and what are they doing in the garden?

Emma shrugged and cocked her head towards the kitchen table. He says slave labor.

Saanvi glanced at Simmons, who slurped at his bowl of porridge, oblivious to their conversation. Then she turned back to Emma, her face scrunched up in confusion. I don’t understand.

Me neither, Emma replied with a shrug. I’m going outside. Why don’t you come and we’ll go see who they are?

Is it safe?

I think so, Emma said and shrugged again. She glanced at Simmons, who looked up, flecks of oatmeal on his chin. He didn’t appear very concerned.

Eat first, he said to Saanvi. Breakfast is on the wood stove.

Saanvi didn’t argue. She never argued about anything. She was the most agreeable person Emma had ever met.

I’ll see you outside when you’re finished. I’m going to water Gong’s flowers first, Emma said, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with water from the five-gallon container on the counter.

She walked through the house to the front door and went outside to where half of an old whiskey barrel full of lavender plants sat at the bottom of the steps. Dropping to her knees, she bent over the lavender, inhaling deeply as she poured a trickle of water from the cup onto the dry dirt.

The flowers were her own personal memorial to Gong, the Chinese agent who had died so she and the rest of the group could live.

I’m sorry, Gong. I miss you. I wish you were here, she said, pouring the last few drops of water onto the dirt.

She stared at the flowers and wondered what life would be like if he was still alive. He was the only one who treated her like she had a brain. Lucia hated her, Professor Simmons tolerated her, and Mei—well, she wasn’t sure what Mei thought of her. Lost in thought, she didn’t hear Saanvi until she clunked down the steps two at a time.

Come on sleepy-head, let’s go meet the people in the garden, Saanvi said with a smile. The hours she had spent outside had turned her already brown skin the color of roasted coffee beans. She wore a pair of cut-off jeans and a faded t-shirt. She looked happy and carefree.

You go ahead, Emma said, suddenly feeling sad. She wiped away the tiny tear that formed in the corner of her eye.

Are you all right?

Just have something in my eye, she said, pretending to swipe at the non-existent dirt. I’ll be there in a minute.

Saanvi gave her a worried smile. Okay, but don’t be too long. Lucia said we should pick the beans before it gets too hot.

Just hearing Lucia’s name was enough to make Emma forget about Gong. It was Lucia’s garden. She had made them start on it right after they arrived at the farmhouse. Everyone said they would die without the food it produced, but Emma detested it. It wasn’t a garden; it was a torture chamber.

She watched Saanvi disappear around the corner of the house. With a sigh, Emma climbed to her feet and followed after her. When she caught up, the younger girl was already in the garden, talking to their visitors.

This is Samantha and Callie, Saanvi said, bouncing on her toes with excitement. They’re from Toronto.

Emma didn’t even have time to say hello before Callie spoke. How come you don’t wear a mask? None of you do. Her eyes narrowed as she studied them.

Callie!

Well, they don’t, Callie said, crossing her arms and pouting at her mother.

Emma and Saanvi shared a look. Shortly after arriving at the farmhouse, Mei and Professor Simmons had immunized them in the same way they had cured Kateri. But they had been warned not to talk about it, or how they arrived in Canada, or even who they were.

Unable to think of an answer, Emma paused and then said, We don’t wear them around the farm because we’re kind of like a family and nobody is sick.

But we’re not family, Callie said, staring at Emma. She put an insolent hand on her hip and added, And we might be sick. Aren’t you afraid?

What a brat, Emma thought. I should tell her to mind her own business. Instead, she said, Well, you don’t look sick, and what are you doing in the garden, anyway?

Working—just like you should be, Lucia said from behind her. She handed each of their visitors a trowel.

The girl’s mother took the gardening tool. Lucia was kind enough to give us a chance to work for food.

Lucia, kind? Not in a million years, Emma thought. She laughed out loud at the ridiculous statement and blurted, Most likely you’re just her slave labor.

The expression on Lucia’s face could have turned the sun cold. She glared at Emma. Why don’t you keep quiet when you don’t know what you are talking about. Go and be useful for a change. Take Saanvi and pick the beans.

Saanvi tugged on Emma’s arm. Come on. Let’s get started.

Angry at herself and the world, Emma stomped away, following after Saanvi. Soon, she and Saanvi were making their way down one row after another, pinching the beans free from the plants with the tips of their thumbs and forefingers. The work was arduous and the temperature hot. By mid-morning, it was ninety degrees in the shade.

I thought Canada was supposed to be cold, Emma said, sweat dripping down her forehead onto the bridge of her nose. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and cursed.

Saanvi laughed. It’s quite hot, but this is nothing compared to India. And Mei says it will get very cold here in the winter. She said it will go below zero. Can you imagine that?

Emma shook her head. It never got that cold in Washington.

Jeez—What is it with these things? she said, swatting at the swarm of little black flies hovering around her. They’re in my eyes and nose. Yuck…I think I swallowed one.

Lunch! Lucia called from the back porch.

Saanvi giggled. Tell her you’ve already eaten.

Emma scowled and shot a withering glance at Lucia who waved impatiently at them.

I hate her.

She’s not that bad.

She’s a witch, Emma hissed as she climbed to her feet with a bucket of beans in each hand. She curtsied towards the spot where Lucia had stood a second earlier and said, Yes, your Royal Highness, we’re coming.

Come on, she grumbled to Saanvi, Let’s go and eat. If we’re lucky, maybe she’ll give us water with our gruel.

They took a couple of steps before Emma remembered their visitors, who were on their knees at the back of the garden weeding.

Hey, Emma yelled to them. Do you want to come and get something to eat?

Thank you, but we’ll finish up first, Samantha replied.

They’ve been out here all morning, Saanvi said, elbowing Emma. They should take a break. It’s not fair they keep working while we’re eating.

Samantha looked up and smiled. "Thanks, but we’re okay. We’ll be there in a