Shortcake: Impulse Reborn: The Shortcake Trilogy, #2

By Christopher Gorham Calvin

A city rising from destruction. The evolution of a secret genetic experiment. And an unimaginable threat looming in the shadows…

 

It's been three years since The Falling of the Tides. Amanda and Evan have broken free from the chains of Helix Unbound and the genetic manipulations that forged their existence. But a new danger has been born. And when it threatens to destroy everything Amanda and Evan hold dear, the two children of science must confront their haunting past to protect their future.

 

Can they embrace who they truly are and what they're destined to become? Will they expose the hidden menace that looms over their lives before it's too late? And is their love for one another powerful enough to conquer death itself?

 

Find out in this spellbinding continuation of The Shortcake Trilogy, a gripping techno-thriller series that explores transcending the boundaries of human evolution, embodying resilience in the face of death, and surviving at any cost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Gorham Calvin
• Release date: Dec 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215437780

Book preview

Prologue

An Unquestionable Choice

Angela Sparrows was a well-respected physician, wife, mother, and church volunteer. She came from a humble family, put herself through school by working two jobs beginning at age sixteen, served on various community outreach committees, and dedicated herself to taking care of her family while her peers celebrated the freedoms and liberties that often came with college life. In the little spare time she had, Angela studied genetics under the guidance of a family friend. This eventually led to a paid research position during her undergraduate years and publication in several high-ranking scientific journals.

Her work in genetics continued beyond graduation, first in academia, then in the private sector, when Angela accepted a full-time job as lead general physician at a specialized healthcare facility in southern California. It wasn’t something she needed to do- the money from her academic career was more than sufficient- but rather something she wanted to do. And whether in academic research or private application, Angela’s work in genetics was considered second to few. It formed the basis of countless experiments conducted by the government, public industries, educational institutions, and special interest groups. The results helped people from all walks of life, from all regions of the world, regardless of race, gender, political affiliation, or religious belief. And that’s precisely what made it so hard when Angela’s work couldn’t help the person who should have benefitted from it most of all: herself.

Shortly after settling into her academic career, the newly titled Doctor Sparrows had become pregnant with her first child. All appeared well for the first six months; Angela was a healthy mother-to-be, and the child within her, a girl, was equally healthy and strong. Then the bleeding began. It wasn’t much at first, easily ignored as a common side effect of the pregnancy, but when the flow of blood increased to unnatural levels, Angela requested her doctor run tests to determine what had gone wrong. For reasons medical science couldn’t explain, the baby’s health had deteriorated significantly since Angela’s last checkup, and within a week, it was lost. The news was crushing.

And yet Angela was strong. She allowed time for her body and emotions to heal and eventually conceived again. This time she became pregnant with a healthy baby boy, and his successful birth nine months later was more than Angela could have ever hoped for. She named the child Judas, after her great uncle and godfather, and swore to herself that she would let no harm come to him. But it was a promise she couldn’t keep.

Shortly before his sixth birthday, Judas became dangerously ill. As with Angela’s first pregnancy, there was no medical rationale behind his condition, and yet it worsened with each passing day. But Judas, like his mother, was strong-willed, and he refused to let death take him quietly. The boy didn’t succumb to denial or false hope, but accepted that which fate had bestowed upon him, and chose to fight against it until his last breath.

Angela, fearful of losing another child, and irrationally blaming herself for the unexplainable conditions that plagued them both, put every ounce of her knowledge toward aiding her son in battle. She developed a diet and exercise regimen geared toward extending his life. She slaved in a laboratory night and day, running endless blood tests to determine the root cause of Judas’ demise and in search of a genetic solution to cure it. She sacrificed her marriage, which collapsed under the emotional strain of the situation, gave up several of her duties at work, and all but stopped engaging in genetic research, save for that which she conducted for personal reasons. And in the short term, she was successful.

Judas survived another six years, much longer than any medical expert had predicted, his life falsely extended by concoctions of drugs and experimental genetic manipulations. But the boy’s body knew this was unnatural and, as if fighting an invading virus, waged an internal war against the very advances in science keeping it alive. Judas’ body eventually won that battle, sealing its own fate in the process by forbidding further interference with its destined course. And so it was, on the eve of his twelfth birthday, that Judas Sparrows slipped into a coma, one which precluded his imminent death.

Angela had done all she could. Judas was placed on life support and isolated to intensive care. The hospital forbid his mother from taking additional blood samples and reduced her visitation time to mere minutes per day, though she was allowed unlimited access to the observation window overlooking Judas’ dark room. So Angela stayed there, only leaving to use the bathroom or grab snacks and drinks from a nearby vending machine. She slept when she could, on the cold hospital floor, ignored her constantly ringing cell phone until the battery ran dry, and shunned her other professional and personal obligations so that she might be there when something happened, be it blessing or heartbreak.

Angela was prepared for the worst, and a small part of her was still wishing against probability for the best. But what happened, and what came to be after that, was something she could have never predicted.

That’s your son, isn’t it? the flat, female voice asked. Judas?

Angela hadn’t seen the other woman join her at Judas’ observation window. She glanced passively at the stranger, but avoided eye contact, not wanting to seem overly inviting to hold a conversation. Yes, he’s my baby boy.

The words were harder to say than she expected. Angela suddenly realized that with Judas’ isolation also came her own, but in her case, she had willingly removed herself from the comforts of social contact as a defensive mechanism against the anguish brewing within her.

I’ve been following your situation closely, the other woman continued in that same flat voice. You lost one child in the womb, got abandoned by a husband who couldn’t take the pre-

Look, nurse, if you’re trying to comfort me-

Oh, I’m no nurse, the stranger corrected quickly.

This caught Angela by surprise. Doing her best to mask annoyance with her newfound companion’s cold statements, she replied, I’m sorry, it’s just the clothes…

Easy mistake, the woman in the cloud-white ensemble said, her lips expressionless as she spoke. It’s a hard thing to face, losing a child at such a young age.

Angela, even in her own time of grief, was alert enough to pick up the subtle implication in the woman’s words. Have you lost a child, too?

The Woman in White turned to stare at Judas through the glass, as if she didn’t want to make eye contact as she spoke, either. Two of them, actually. Though not under the same circumstances as you.

As much as Angela didn’t feel like delving into the details of this stranger’s life, her instincts as a physician prevented her from being so uncaring. What happened to them?

What if I told you there’s a way to save your son? the Woman in White asked as if she hadn’t heard Angela’s question.

Excuse me?

What if you could save Judas? the woman repeated. And not just save him, but ensure he lives a long and prosperous life.

Angela didn’t know what to make of the question. She had already tried everything she could think of with her extensive knowledge of medicine and genetics to save Judas. She had consulted experts in every relevant field and even submitted her son’s condition for experimental case studies. None had produced results. Was this somebody’s idea of a sick joke? I don’t have time for games, she said with false bravery. Please leave.

The Woman in White stood her ground. It’s not a game, Doctor Sparrows. It’s a job offer.

Angela thought she had misheard. I’m sorry?

Think of it as a mutually beneficial business transaction, the Woman in White explained. You have a dying son and a nearly unmatchable talent in genetics. I have a cure and I’m short one scientist and a testing subject. I’m willing to satisfy your needs… if you agree to satisfy mine in return.

It was too much for Angela to take in. Her head was spinning with thoughts of Judas lying unconscious in intensive care, of the prospect that he could be saved, of the dangers hidden behind an offer that seemed too good to be true, of-

You have one chance to accept, the Woman in White said, interrupting Angela’s thoughts. I’m on a timetable, and if your answer is no, then I need to move on to my next candidate. It’s a simple choice: come work for me and enroll Judas in my project, where we’ll not only cure him, but advance him to new levels of capability beyond the average man. Or stay here… and continue watching him die.

Contrary to the Woman in White’s claim, it was anything but a simple choice. And yet, for Angela, a wife and doctor who had sacrificed so much and had come away so empty-handed, a loving and desperate mother whose dying child she would do anything to save, it was really no choice at all…

Chapter One

A New Day

Many years ago, an intelligent, yet mysteriously disturbed, child named Raymond Holmes had an encounter with what he believed to be a higher power. It was the first of many such encounters, and for several months the higher power continued appearing to him in the woods of Soul Wind Forest, a vast expanse of pine trees and shrubbery bordering the city of Eden and beyond. Eventually, Ray came to believe that the higher power, which he referred to as the Spirits, had chosen him to do their bidding, to deliver their message of destruction, and to ensure the promise of that message would be fulfilled. The young boy prophesied that a day would come when a great power would emerge from Soul Wind Forest. That power would descend upon Eden in an event called The Falling of the Tides, and on that day, few would survive. Years later, despite the best efforts of Ray’s own brother and the assistance of local law enforcement, the prophecy nearly came true. But it didn’t do so because of fate or some otherworldly force…

Hidden among the woods on the outskirts of Eden was a government research facility called Helix Unbound. Years ahead of the world’s scientific community at large, it was here that two genetically enhanced children, codenamed Alpha and Epsilon, but more commonly known as Amanda and Evan, had been born. Epsilon, the older and more emotionally repressed of the two, allied himself with Raymond Holmes to detonate an explosive within City Hall, a sixty-story gothic tower looming in the center of Eden for all to see. The massive pillar of stone and glass collapsed under the force, and with it came Eden’s fall, the shockwaves of the crumbling structure igniting a chain reaction through abandoned drainage tunnels beneath the city. Buildings small and large alike fell like dominoes, pulling lives and luxuries with them into the earthly depths below.

When the dust settled, the United States government, worried about its involvement in unleashing the Epsilon child onto the unsuspecting city, authorized the carpet bombing of Eden’s ashes, ensuring the complete destruction of any ties to the child of science.

But Epsilon survived.

His life was spared by the Alpha child, known to her family and friends as Shortcake, a younger but equally formidable child of science who saw the good in her counterpart and forced him to embrace that good, despite the darkness which had taken grip over his soul. Knowing the residents of Eden would never understand the mental trials Epsilon had faced and overcome, the two children of science fled their home city, only returning when they could do so under a blanket of secrecy. In the dark of night, they used their genetic enhancements to assist with rebuilding Eden, if only to feel some sense of redemption for the parts they had played in the tragedy which befell the city. That was, until the day came when their bodies involuntarily entered a state of genetic hibernation, their physical and psychological conditions having been pushed to dangerous limits by the repeated use of their abilities. Their extraordinary qualities ceased to outwardly manifest themselves further, and the Alpha and Epsilon child were forced into accepting a more normal lifestyle, at least as normal as it could be, while they waited for their abilities to return-

It had been just under three years since Eden’s fall. At the time of its destruction, many thought the city would never get back on its feet. Few buildings remained, save for those on the outskirts of the city. And even then, they circled a wasteland of war-torn ground, the earth tattered and scarred with rivers of thick magma, crumbled concrete, and broken bodies littering what was left of the once glorious metropolis. But that was nothing more than a memory now. Eden had literally risen from the ashes. It was flourishing once more, though on a much smaller scale than it had previously, and expansion efforts to bring new life and new business to the city continued in full force. This was largely due to the methodically planned, and brilliantly executed, ideas of Mayor Samuel Collins, who, after guiding Eden through its darkest of times, had little trouble sweeping through reelection. Samuel was the epitome of a corrupt politician. He did very little, if anything, that didn’t result in some benefit for himself. Yet the things he had done to restore the city were largely good, despite his selfish reasons for doing them, and the residents of Eden were gracious for that.

Samuel had a vision for Eden, a vision of newfound beauty, of renewal, of rebirth. He organized committees to oversee each aspect of the city’s return, from reactivating power grids, to rezoning parks, to acquiring teachers to fill Eden’s unbuilt classrooms. He called in favors both legal and illegal alike to increase working bodies on the ground, and to enhance production while also laying the foundation of the wealthy aristocracy he had once reigned over. The mayor even addressed the largest problem facing Eden, a problem he had once ignored, one that contributed to the city’s previous collapse. Beneath Eden spider-webbed an intricate network of ancient drainage tunnels. Long since dry, the tunnels had become increasingly unstable over the years, until the day when a flaming mass of City Hall’s former tower toppled into their focal point, initiating a chain reaction of cave-ins that decimated the city above. Though most of the tunnel network was disrupted by the event, it turned out that many partitioned segments remained following the rebuilding of Eden. With them lingered an ongoing threat, making Eden’s displaced residents hesitant to move back to their rebuilt home.

Determined to bring his vision for Eden to fruition, Samuel enlisted the help of Doctor Lamar Reed, a scientist with the National Geological Association and one of the key players in rescuing Eden from destruction years earlier, to undertake a project which would safeguard the city from its structural flaws. The project was jointly financed with the federal government, Samuel having pushed the government to declare Eden a national disaster zone in order to access capital reserved for the prevention of and recovery from such events. Though it took eight months and millions of dollars to complete, the primary tunnel restructuring comforted citizens who had once considered moving on, providing enough security to draw much of Eden’s population back, while also enticing new growth from surrounding cities.

Among the returning residents was Sheriff Vincent Desmond, who, along with Lamar and Detective Frank Holmes of the Jericho City Police Department, was credited with spearheading hasty action to save as many lives as possible during The Falling of the Tides. As with Samuel, Vincent had no trouble retaining office as Eden entered its rebuilding phase. The sheriff worked hand-in-hand with the mayor to promote Eden’s safety and potential for a prosperous future, though he did so for far different reasons than his fellow official. Vincent was an honest, selfless man who came from a family lineage of law enforcement, a father who had lost his wife in a tragic accident, but many years later gained a daughter through pure happenstance. He wanted what was best for the citizens of Eden and those he cared about most, and so he lent his hand wherever possible to bring normalcy back to a world that had been turned upside down by tragedy.

Joining Vincent for a portion of that journey was his son, Derek. The teenage boy had been an innocent victim of the confrontation between Amanda and Evan in the days following The Falling of the Tides, his side sliced open by Evan with the pointed tip of an animal fang while being held captive in the wastelands of Eden. Luckily for Derek, Amanda had broken through the darkness engulfing Evan’s soul, and working as one, the two children of science carried him to safety before fleeing into the night.

Derek’s girlfriend, Stacy Fitzgerald, another would-be victim of events surrounding The Falling of the Tides, had also returned to Eden with her family. Derek and Stacy had been friends and schoolmates for many years before finally admitting their romantic feelings for each other and solidifying their relationship in the days leading to Eden’s destruction. Though many couples were torn apart by the tragedy, Derek and Stacy were drawn closer, the time they spent recovering together in the nearby city of Lakeview Bay proving healthy for their relationship. Since then, however, the two had become increasingly distant, their acceptance into different colleges outside of Eden throwing a wedge into their otherwise blossoming romance. But fall break was approaching, and with it an opportunity for the two teens to reconcile their recently developed differences.

And so the story went for most of Eden’s families. Life moved on, for some in the city they had always called home, for others somewhere else, somewhere where tragic memories hopefully wouldn’t follow. Their exodus, along with the massive loss of life which had transpired, created room for fresh faces to move in and gain dominance over Eden. The city grew younger, more energetic, a haven to those willing to take risks toward a brighter future. And yet, as bright as that future promised to be, some of the older faces were missed.

Among them was Frank. Born in Eden, the detective had moved to Jericho City at a young age, where he and his future best friend and partner, Billy Meadows, joined Jericho PD and quickly moved up within the ranks of their peers. Frank was, at heart, as much a survivor as any man could be. His murderous brother, Ray, had killed their parents, his first victims, before becoming one of the world’s most notorious serial killers. He took the lives of adults and children alike in sadistic and methodical ways. Frank had pushed himself to the brink of death trying to stop his rival sibling and, when he failed, lived for years with the haunting memories of those lives which had succumbed to that failure.

But Frank would have his own chance at redemption. For the killing didn’t stop, and once Ray returned to Eden to fulfill his disastrous prophecy, Frank knew he was the only one with the knowledge and determination to bring his brother’s reign of terror to an end. The detective once again faced death and lived, while Ray was consumed by the very destruction he had unleashed upon Eden. Though it could be argued that Ray had the last laugh in Eden’s fall, there was no denying how much worse it could have been if not for Frank’s unceasing efforts.

In protecting the city, he had both befriended Vincent and earned the respect of many of Eden’s officers. He had also etched an unforgettable mark on those who had successfully made it out of Eden, survivors who would be forever grateful for the detective’s actions. But Frank, despite being suspended from Jericho PD for the very pursuit which earned him infamy in Eden, still had a semblance of life waiting for him in Jericho City. So, after much internal debate, he returned to his second home to work on re-situating the pieces of his disturbed existence.

Frank never forgot about Eden, though, or the people he had met there. The detective stayed in touch with Vincent and kept abreast of any new information about the city through internet news subscriptions and social media. He checked them daily, a regular part of his morning routine at the office, along with coffee and, as stereotypical as it might be, a donut.

It’s amazing, Frank thought one day as he chewed on a particularly good chocolate glazed pastry while staring at his computer screen, how naïve people can be.

A few days earlier, the detective had stumbled onto a conspiracy theorist’s blog about the truth behind Eden’s fall. The posts there were laughable, especially to someone like Frank, who had seen the disaster firsthand, and yet they were impossible not to read. That’s how they get you, the detective told himself. They print a bunch of crap that’s too insane not to pay attention to. Nonetheless, Frank kept returning to the site, even despite his own self-awareness of the trap into which he had fallen.

Don’t tell me you’re reading that ridiculous blog again, Billy said as he entered Frank’s office with his own cup of coffee and donut.

Frank didn’t break his gaze with the computer monitor. Did you know that Eden never actually collapsed?

Oh no? Billy humored.

Nope. It was a hallucinogen spread from Helix Unbound. Made everyone think they saw the city collapse when it was actually standing there perfectly fine the whole time.

Uh-huh. And I suppose the city’s recent makeover-

Hallucinations, Frank told him. He then huffed, I don’t know where they dig this shit up sometimes.

The government feeds it to them. Billy took a seat across from his partner. Along with little green men and the tooth fairy. Put enough distractions out there and reality becomes as fictional as legend. Keeps anyone from figuring out what the truth really is.

That’s what really busts my ass, Frank said as he flung his hands into the air, small pieces of glaze taking flight through his office. People know the truth in this case. They were there. Hell, I was there!

And yet it’s your word against many, Billy replied, brushing flakes of Frank’s glaze from his sleeve. Fighting social media is a losing battle, my friend, and we’re too old and too busy with more important things to stand a chance in that war. Leave it to the next generation.

Frank sighed and closed the browser window. Billy was right. Social media was just another one of those things which had passed the detective by, along with most of his childhood and the opportunity to live a status quo life. But Frank didn’t mind. He had long ago accepted the hand fate had dealt him, and now that Ray was gone and the demons of his past had mostly been put to rest, he felt happier with his life than he could ever remember. He was rid of his nightmares of death and defeat. He no longer feared his phone ringing in the middle of the night. He had his job, his partner and friend, and many more years to make the most of what the world presented him.

What’s the latest from real life? he asked Billy as he finished the last of his donut.

The other detective pulled a manila folder from the crook of his arm and tossed it on Frank’s desk. See for yourself.

Frank pulled a one-pager from the stack inside the folder and scanned it. He thought the report would be standard fare, but what he read was so much more interesting than that. You’re shitting me, he said under his breath. Is this reliable?

Wire taps confirm it, Billy told him. And we’ve got an informant on the other side who claims he knows the time and place.

Ha ha! Frank cheered as he leaped from his chair. We’re finally going to get that son of a bitch, Billy!

Since returning to Jericho City, Frank had been leading an investigation into the actions of the untouchable drug kingpin Thomas DeMarco. DeMarco had entered the drug trade at a young age, gaining favor in the eyes of its then monarch, Vinnie DeMarco, who also happened to be Thomas’ uncle. The blood relation meant little, however, as Vinnie DeMarco looked favorably upon no one who didn’t first earn that favorable position. Thomas earned his by saving his uncle’s life from a rival drug lord during an attempted assassination. He then spearheaded a crusade to remove that drug lord from power, arranging the deaths of all but the lowest ranking associates of his organization, then assimilating those associates and their customer bases under Vinnie’s rule. This display of leadership and willingness to protect the business elevated Thomas to heir-apparent status, and when Vinnie died of a heart attack several years later, no one dared challenge the right of succession Thomas claimed over the former kingpin’s throne.

Since then, the DeMarco drug empire had only grown. It had spread to every state in the country, injected its addiction into most major cities, and just as Frank set off for Eden to prevent his brother from destroying that city, rumor spread through the streets that DeMarco was eyeing Jericho City to serve as his next drug hub, a location to centralize the importation, production, and distribution of illegal narcotics to surrounding areas. The rumor turned out to be true, and within months, DeMarco had his foot inside city limits.

The drug kingpin shelled out millions to purchase strategically placed property throughout Jericho City. He bought rundown houses in the middle of the slums from which his lackeys could serve the lower income populous. He purchased office space in high-profile buildings where he could run legitimate fronts while meeting the needs of the middle class. He even used his upper echelon contacts from other cities to garner introductions to Jericho City’s elite at posh social events, where he subtly offered to take care of them… if they would take care of him in exchange. Soon, Jericho City, as if it wasn’t plagued by enough crime already, had become the new drug capital of the midwestern United States, and it was now up to Frank and Billy to put a stop to it.

I can’t believe he has the balls to try such a large deal right under our noses, Frank told his partner as he perused the contents of the manila folder once again. He’s never made a move like this in Jericho before.

Word has it his hand was forced, Billy explained. Someone wants to drop a large shipment fast. They went to DeMarco first, but told him they wouldn’t wait long before going to another buyer.

And this person just happened to be here in Jericho? Frank questioned. Sounds a little too coincidental, don’t you think?

Billy agreed, but didn’t want to outwardly admit it. You want to sit on it?

Frank considered the option. He and Billy had been cutting off tentacles of DeMarco’s operation for well over a year now, each time getting a step closer to taking aim at the head. If the drug lord wanted to set them up for a big fall, this was the perfect way to do it. DeMarco rarely made public appearances in Jericho City, despite the complex organization he ran there. Opportunities to confront him, much less catch him in an illegal act, were far and few between. But a deal this large, made on impulse and without advance preparation, would most certainly require his presence. Frank couldn’t risk ignoring that.

No, he told Billy. We’ll act on it. But if DeMarco really is there, he’ll bring a small army with him. How much backup are we getting?

Captain Tipps said this is the highest priority tonight. We can have as many men as it takes, as long as we bring DeMarco back with us when it’s done.

Alive or dead? Frank asked with a smile.

Billy shot his partner a disapproving look. I’m afraid dead isn’t an option. To quote our dear captain: ‘Tell Frank to keep his damn finger off the trigger! I want this thing to go down smoothly!’

Frank laughed aloud at his partner’s spot-on impression of their boss. He then clasped Billy’s shoulder as he strolled toward his office door. He said only half jokingly, Oh Billy, since when does anything go smoothly around here?

Exactly. I assume you want Carter and Gibbs to join us. Who else do you have on the radar?

Carter and Gibbs were blue collar officers who had often accompanied Frank and Billy on cases requiring additional help. They were smart, and had their ears attuned to the tone on the street, often being among the first to know when something was going down in the shady underworld of Jericho. This quality, along with the fact that they had already proven to Frank he could trust them with his life, made Carter and Gibbs automatic go-to teammates for any big assignment.

You can choose, Frank said as he contemplated the number of officers he wanted to take into this potential firefight. We need able bodies. Men with shootout experience. Give Carter and Gibbs a team of five each. You and I can run recon solo, and I want a few squads from S.W.A.T. to hold firm at a three-block radius from the hot zone. If DeMarco slips away from us, it’ll be up to them to cut him off.

A little much for a drug exchange, Billy said while taking notation. Even one of this size. You really think it’s necessary?

With DeMarco? Frank asked rhetorically as he opened his office door to pay a visit to Captain Tipps. There’s not a doubt in my mind.

Vincent woke that morning at six-thirty, the same as he did on most days. He immediately showered and dressed, donning his pressed police uniform and topping his head with a hat seldom still worn by those in his profession. He then headed downstairs to the kitchen, where he poured a glass of orange juice and prepared a quick breakfast. This morning it was a fried egg, though it could have just as easily been toast or even no breakfast at all, depending on how rushed the sheriff was on any particular day. The series of activities, as monotonous as it might be, was a routine that had been ingrained in Vincent for years. In the past, it had been easier to bear, for within Vincent’s routine had been the brief, but sorely missed, companionship of his children. It may have been a smile, or perhaps only the faint noise of one of them getting ready in an adjacent room, but the small interactions mattered greatly, even if Vincent didn’t realize it at the time. And now… now there was only silence, and it was both maddening and depressing at the same time.

Though his house had been among those damaged during The Falling of the Tides, and then subsequently destroyed in the carpet bombing which followed, Vincent contracted for his new residence to be built in the same style as his former, at least insomuch as he could remember its details, save for a few much needed technology upgrades that were now considered standard to any new home. Though it provided Vincent with a sense of comforting normalcy despite everything that had happened to his home city, the familiar surroundings did nothing to ease his loneliness, a feeling which flowed coarsely in his veins and burned at the walls of his heart.

Vincent longed for the days when he used to come downstairs to the noise of the television and the smells of breakfast already filtering throughout the house. He remembered his son racing from room to room in an effort to get to school on time and recalled the smile of his daughter waiting patiently at the kitchen table for the rest of her family to awaken. Vincent wanted them home again- he wanted them to be together again- though he knew it wasn’t possible, nor was it for the best.

Derek needed to get on with his life. He was away at college pursuing his own dreams, dreams which had already been delayed by Eden’s destruction, and discovering new friends and new experiences that Eden couldn’t offer in its current state. Amanda, on the other hand, was exploring the country with Evan. She had no use for college, her mind already more advanced and knowledgeable than ninety-nine percent of the human population. What she had a need for, however, was understanding. She needed to understand the basics of human existence, why people did what they did and felt what they felt, why people believed in the things they believed in, how they found their places in life, and the passions and motivations which drove them to continuously march onward through their brief existences on Earth. She needed to understand these things in hopes that they would help her understand herself, and in turn, find her and Evan’s rightful places in the world.

Vincent had no intention of interfering with either of his children’s journeys. Though not a day went by that he didn’t wish they were there by his side, the sheriff understood it was a selfish wish, and so he instead accepted the loneliness, his own personal sacrifice to ensure the future happiness and well-being of those he loved most. To cope, Vincent turned to work, much the way he had following his wife’s death many years earlier, burying himself in what little action his job offered him in the newly reformed Eden.

This day was no different. After Vincent finished his breakfast, he immediately set off for the police station, where he was greeted with a stack of paperwork from the front receptionist, Diana Claiborne, a thirty-something redhead who had moved to Eden to take part in the rebuilding effort after a bitter falling out with her long-term fiancé. The stack, just one of several Vincent had already received that week, consisted of the usual mix of permit requests, residential complaints, and political correspondence. Rarely was there something of an urgent nature, as Eden’s crime rate, at least on the surface, had reached almost nonexistent levels since the city’s rebirth.

Anything important in this mess? Vincent asked as he thumbed through the documents, though he already knew what the answer would be.

Some girl lost her cat, Diana responded. I was going to send the fire department, but decided I’d better wait for you in case you wanted to call in the Marines or National Guard instead.

Vincent chuckled. Bored as usual, I see.

Diana’s answer was as fake as she could manage. Bored? With all this excitement? Whatever could have given you that idea?

Vincent piled his stack on one arm and walked away. I’ll be in my office if you need me.

Yeah, okay, Diana muttered. I’ll yell if someone drops a nuclear bomb on the city.

The sheriff replied, too low for her to hear. If only you knew…

Once Vincent reached his office and shut the door, he set down the stack of papers and sorted through them swiftly, but more thoroughly than he had when speaking with Diana. The sheriff was looking for something particular, something he looked for every day when he came to work, but rarely found. It was a plain white envelope, addressed to him in perfect script handwriting and containing only empty space where the return address should be. Though Vincent had only received such an item about a dozen times in the past two years, he was always persistent in searching for the next one to come. And it was on this day that his persistence paid off again.

Vincent found the envelope nestled between a petition for additional parking meters and a neighborhood loud noise complaint. It was crisp and bore no postage or stamps from mail processing. And of course it wouldn’t, for this envelope had been hand-delivered, secretly slipped among Vincent’s other mail, no chances taken that it would be intercepted on route to its destined recipient. The sheriff opened it carefully and removed the small object inside: a fresh rose petal, just as red as each of the previous he’d received. Vincent smiled warmly.

In the Eden of old, a lush garden of varying flower species surrounded the base of City Hall, and adjacent to that garden had been one of Eden’s more popular tourist attractions, a complex hedge maze of green thicket. During Eden’s reconstruction, Samuel had petitioned for the gardens to be replanted, but financial advisors urged him to instead expand upon that which attracted tourists, and thus brought increased income, to the city. As such, plans for the revitalized garden were scrapped, while a new proposal blueprinting a hedge maze more than three times the size of its former was put into motion. Not wanting to completely shun those who cared more for flowers than foliage, however, Samuel insisted that the hedge maze intertwine rose vines into its intricate latticework of green. The result couldn’t have been more fitting: a twisting, turning prison of colorful beauty and prickly thorns, the exit to which was always so close, yet so difficult to find.

While the fascination presented by the hedge maze succeeded in driving increased tourism revenue for Eden, its colorful presence also became an inspiration to the city’s new residents. Shortly after the maze opened for public access, additional seeds were sown throughout the city, first by families wanting to spruce up their revitalized neighborhoods, then by businesses determined to outshine one another. Soon, gardens bloomed, their rapid growth spurred by an increase in the fertility of the ground from which they sprang, one of the few benefits of the lava flows which scorched Eden’s surface during The Falling of the Tides.

Before long, Eden was transformed into a delight of floral fantasies, so much so that Samuel declared the last Friday of May a city holiday, a time when all who lived there could symbolically celebrate Eden’s rebirth. A parade was arranged, one that would become an annual tradition, and all residents were invited to participate. Floats were built from scratch and decorated with the first blooms of rose season. Marching bands were bused in from nearby cities such as Lakeview Bay. Celebrities with ties to Eden were asked to make appearances at the festivities. In addition, tourists flocked to the city from far and wide to witness the celebration of something that many viewed as nothing short of miraculous. But as much as Eden’s floral renaissance held such significance for the city transformed by it, there was an even greater significance for Vincent, one he shared with few others.

Whenever Amanda came to town, no matter how brief the visit, she would slip a rose petal into her adopted father’s mail, a secret invitation to meet in the public seclusion of the hedge maze surrounding City Hall. Though swarming with people at most hours of the day, the intertwined tunnels of green had numerous dark corners and dead ends, one of which was nearly as hard to find as the hedge maze’s exit. It was here that Vincent and Amanda would meet, the dense crowds surrounding the maze allowing each of them access without drawing attention, and the concealment of their meeting spot affording them the opportunity to speak freely. Though an occasional tourist would stumble upon the two in mid-conversation, that person was usually too preoccupied with trying to get out of the maze to form a lasting memory of the encounter.

It saddened Vincent that the meetings with his adopted daughter had to occur in this manner, but given everything that had happened to her, there was no way to know if those who knew Amanda as the Alpha child were still out there somewhere, searching for her, waiting for the opportunity to strike. It was a fear Vincent had to push out of his mind on a near daily basis, and it was the same fear which kept Amanda and Evan from settling back down in the place they once called home.

Vincent tucked the envelope and rose petal in his pocket and hurried out of his office. He gave Diana his usual excuse. I’m heading downtown to see the mayor.

While you’re there, the receptionist replied, could you ask him to raise the crime rate around here? I’m seriously thinking of taking up knitting just to get through the days. And I hate to knit.

I’ll tell you what, Vincent offered with a smile, make me a nice scarf, and then I’ll consider it.

Diana shot her boss a smirk and watched as he ran out the front door, quietly noticing the fresh pep in his step.

Jacob Riley was an honorable man. He knew as early as his high school years that he wanted to make the world- or at least the United States- a better place. And since Jacob came from a wealthy background, was well-spoken, intelligent, and had a natural appeal that left others hard-pressed to find reasons not to like him, he soon learned he had a persuasive means by which to achieve his goal: politics. Jacob volunteered on the campaign staffs of several public officials throughout the remainder of his school career. He then served as campaign manager for several others, turning long-shot underdogs into political winners before their opponents knew what had hit them. And finally, upon the urging of those very victors, Jacob ran for office himself, directing his own campaign and easily drawing the voting public to his side. Eventually, he worked his way up the political pipeline until being elected to the United States Senate.

During this forty-year journey, Jacob met his wife, Victoria, with whom he had two children, both of which were now grown and getting ready to start families of their own. He also met three cryptic government employees, nicknamed by those outside of their tight circle as the Dark Man, the Suited Man, and the Woman in White, and was tasked with an initiative to merge modern genetic research with modern military philosophy. Out of this initiative grew Project Impulse, and with its eventual demise, so too came the demise of Jacob.

The revered senator was murdered by those he entrusted with the completion of Project Impulse. They hoped that, by killing Jacob, they had severed the last thread linking them to the United States government and