Altered: Peripheral, #5

By Amado Olivera

Hunter and Sally faced off against a shadow. To their dismay, their powerful foes kidnapped Hunter and performed unknown tests on him. Sally and Hunter must grapple with the consequences of what happened as they seek answers. Their journey will bring them head-on with dark forces that will shake them to the core. Their concept of reality will be turned upside down as everything will forever be altered.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amado Olivera
• Release date: Sep 12, 2025
• ISBN: 9798232975050

Amado Olivera

Amado Olivera always dreamt of being a writer. Though he pursued a career in Finance and Accounting, he always had the desire to write stories.  Amado studied at Montana State University for his bachelor's degree in Accounting and obtained his Master's in Finance and Accounting from Regis University in Denver, Colorado. After traveling to many countries, he finally decided to pursue his passion for writing. He hopes that his stories will make the reader smile,  cry, and reflect on the wonders and mysteries of life. He hopes to inspire others to follow their dreams.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Aday had passed. A tinted SUV pulled to the edge of a dusty road in a remote area.  Two men dragged him. They threw him aside and jumped into their SUV. They carried their instructions and sped off. Hunter lay unconscious on the side of the road. He remained there an unspecified period. When he finally regained consciousness, a farmer stood beside him. The man and his son placed Hunter on the back of their truck and drove him to the nearest hospital. Hunter was dazed. He struggled to keep his eyes open. He felt weak and heard voices. The farmer kept talking, but Hunter’s eyes could not focus. The light was intense. He had been blindfolded, and he kept covering his eyes with his hands. It took time to regain his vision. But his hearing was off. Everything was soft as if the farmer whispered. But the vehicle was speeding. Who was driving? He stared blankly at the farmer and glanced to get a sense of where he was. He did not recognize where he was. Corn fields were on both sides of the road.

Where am I? said Hunter, bewildered.

You are in Illinois. Where did you think you were?

I was not sure. I don’t know.

What do you mean?

I don’t remember. Illinois? How did I get here?

That’s what I was about to ask you? Did you run into someone with a score to settle? You were on the ground unconscious. Someone wanted to give you a parting gift?

My head hurts? I can’t remember.

Must be the blows. Relax. We will arrive at the hospital in no time. They will help you figure out what they did to you. But I would dare say they did you no favors.

The doctor examined Hunter and immediately took him to the surgery room. They had to operate on his head on account of a concussion that caused it to swell. As was now a constant, he was bandaged all over. Whoever gave him a thrashing almost broke his left arm, fractured a rib, and left his face swollen and his abdomen and chest black and blue. That he survived was what left the doctor surprised. The doctor believed, and so he mentioned, they did not want to kill him, for they sure could have. They merely wanted to give him a clear message. The problem was Hunter could not remember what happened. He had no clue who he was. There was no ID on him. Moreover, his injuries required he remain at the hospital until he could move and fend for himself. That accounted for his long stay there.

For three weeks, Hunter remained at Mount Sinai Hospital. They assigned a nurse to take special care of him. All the while, he had no knowledge of who he was and what had happened. The young woman was more than a nurse. She was attentive and caring to an extreme. She knew him. She told him they were lovers and he was devoted to her, and they were expecting a child. He stared blankly at her. His eyes welled up as he could remember nothing. The doctor said he should recover his memory and should rest. With time, things would return to normal. But Hunter had spent days in bed and could remember nothing. The woman was a stranger to him. Her long black hair, blue eyes, and slender body should have sent a torrent of images. How would he not remember making love to her as she claimed? That she was expecting a child for him should be a source of great joy. He felt nothing. All he felt was pain across his body and an emptiness that seared through, robbing him of his essence. But the woman said her name was Sally. They were coworkers, she said to him. They worked for the FBI and had been involved in a high-profile case. Shadowy figures had kidnapped him and done terrible things to him that the doctor was yet to determine. But she kept kissing him, holding his hand, reassuring him that she loved him above all things. Tears streaked across his pale face. He could not remember. Days passed, and became weeks, and finally weeks became a month.

Hunter was finally about walking. The doctor told him to stay in his room and make small movements to regain his strength. The woman who claimed to be his partner and lover had gone to get him food and medication the doctor prescribed. He had succeeded in standing and made incremental steps in the room he had been in for weeks. He had the urgent need to use the toilet and crawled his way, holding to the bed, the wall, with one hand, and finally reached the toilet. For the first time, he could see his face. He did not recognize himself. He had not shaved and was a bearded man. His hair was dark black, and his beard was much the same. He had a rigid face with dreamy eyes. His hollowed sockets with round dark shades about them showed exhaustion was his lot. Beyond exhaustion and constant pain, he was frustrated at not knowing who he was. He hoped that staring at his reflection in the mirror would stir a memory, faint, perhaps obscure. But destiny was cruel in her designs, giving him not a whisper, not a glimpse into his past. He stood motionless. He was naked except for the hospital gown he wore. His back was exposed. His head throbbed. He was trying too hard. The doctor said it would take time. But weeks had passed, and nothing had changed. He should be upset, screaming, and going mad. But he had no energy for that. No, it was more than he had; he had no grasp of his reality besides what the woman named Sally said. Why would she lie? She kept kissing him, holding his hand, and taking care of him. His observations of her showed a woman in love. She said they were expecting a child. How he wished he could reciprocate her joy. All he could muster was a fake smile. He felt terrible, for he was unsure of himself and of what he was truly like. The emptiness ate at him. It was a pernicious cancer that had consumed him, robbing him of his essence and happiness. If he felt something, fear, despair, resentment, it would be something. But he felt absolutely empty. He felt no love, no regret, no joy, and no fear. He felt altered, a broken man.

Hunter ensured he properly tied the hospital gown so as not to expose himself. Perhaps, going for a walk outside, he could remember something. That he could formulate ideas meant he was not crazy. The doctor said he had amnesia, the consequence of the blows he received to the head. He had no choice but to painstakingly walk out of the hallway. Each step was labored. He struggled to breathe. What did it say of him? Was he a stubborn man or a determined man? He had grown tired of being in bed and locked up. He felt like a prisoner. The woman, Sally, was endearing and kept telling him of the many things they did together, their dangerous escapes, and their rendezvous with death. But if what she said was true, theirs was a love forged between gunshots and endless car chases. She had saved him many times, and he had rescued her from powerful shadows eager to tear them apart. He kept walking, staring out the windows of the hospital. All he could see below was a circular area with a few small trees and ornamental plants neatly set. The driveway to the entrance circumvented the lawn area. People parked the vehicles below as they came. A taxi dropped off a couple expecting a child. The woman was bursting at the seams, and medical staff rushed to her aid with a wheelchair. The sun had set, and the sky was dark. It mirrored his state of mind. He was shrouded by a fog that did not let him see who he was. The lights outside were automatically lit, giving the place a gratifying beauty. Outside was calm. Few people roamed. A car here and another there, but otherwise it was a serene sight. He had not noticed he had been out long. He had no concept of time. But his body reminded him he was hungry.

He turned, and he could see a face of consternation. The woman, Sally, rushed to him. He had been missing, according to her, for an unpleasantly long time. She had run around like a madwoman searching for him, thinking many unpleasant things. She reprimanded him and told him he was inconsiderate in absconding. But upon reflection, as he could see it in her eyes, she reconsidered and apologized to him, kissing him. She expressed her fear someone had come and caused him harm or taken him away yet again. Hunter said nothing other than apologize. He understood he had disobeyed and caused her and the medical staff unnecessary grief. But he did not do it out of malice or for no other reason than he felt suffocated in the small room he had been in thus far. He said so in no uncertain terms. After the woman, Sally, calmed down and had him secure in the room once more, she promised him she would take him out early the next day. The doctor said they had done all they could for him. His wounds were tended to, and he had progressed satisfactorily. The mental problem was something that would return to normal given time and his following instructions to the letter. It meant, and the doctor said that much, he had to comply with Sally’s strict instructions for his good, of course.

As promised, Sally, his partner, emphasized she was the love of his life, and she saw it fit to remove him from his prison and drive him far away. She drove a Camry. The interior was covered in leather and reeked of jasmine and lilacs. The scent knocked him off his feet. Images came, brief, scattered images. He kept running, calling her name. Yes, what she said was true. He kept calling her name. Sally! Sally! And indeed, she was Sally. She pressed her hand across his face and kissed him yet again, trying to awaken his passions. Her lips were soft and her tongue moist. He breathed her breath. Images kept appearing. Indeed. He had seen her naked in bed. They made love. What she said was true. But darkness came, robbing him of the joy. Blows to the head. Men dragged him from a vehicle. Guns pointed at his head. A woman screamed for them not to hit him. She was the woman, screaming, begging them not to hurt him. She smiled as she kept driving.

Where are we going?

Home, where you belong with me.

He was tense. His eyes stared studying the buildings, the signs, trying to remember his home with her. She kept driving, and in no time, they were away from the city. They arrived at a mansion. He was now in an unfamiliar place. No memories of it came to mind. He was in a gated community, and she kept driving down a wide road until she reached the home she said was their love nest. She finally drove into the driveway and into the garage. Behind, the door automatically closed. Their home was on a ten-acre property. They had entered a high-walled fence that hid their home from view. Everything was orderly. The pine trees aligned along the road leading to the mansion at the far end of the property. The house was of colonial design, white with ornate wood finishing and French windows, tall with narrow casements that provided great ventilation and light in the hot days.

Hunter stood in the large foyer, trying to come to terms with a life he was unfamiliar with. Sally kept holding his hand, embracing and kissing him, reassuring him that with her love, he’d come to remember he too loved her without reservation. They were to live their life in that house, or if he preferred, somewhere far from those who intended to kill him. She proposed many ideas, and going far away where no one could ever harm him again was at the top of her suggestions. She said Europe, perhaps Paris, France, if not Milan, Italy. Anywhere was better than staying in Chicago, where men wanted him dead.

Chapter 2

Natalie and Justin consoled Sally. No word had come of Hunter’s whereabouts. Now she understood Mrs. Avery’s suffering. It was unbearable. Not knowing was the worst. She hoped he was alive, but feared he was dead. Those who took Hunter would not keep him alive this long. A month passed. Nothing turned up, as she expected. Ned was fraught, upset, and questioning many things. They completed their investigation of the medical facility. Though she was convinced she had been there and they did things to her and others, there was no evidence and their display of force was futile. Sally was heartbroken because it showed their enemies were well organized and always a step ahead. The woman she shot was the answer to her question. They stole her body. She had Natalie run a test on the blood found on the floor. It was revealing. The woman had the same DNA as she did. It meant they were the same. What Natalie could not confirm was whether the mysterious woman was a clone or if she was the clone. Natalie and Sally argued over the matter. Sally was beside herself. They were so close, and their enemies snatched everything away at the last instant. And to her pain, they took Hunter. She had too many unsettling questions. Why take him? What did they intend to do with him? Killing him would have required only a bullet to the head. They did not harm her or try to take her life. The obvious and frustrating question was why.

Ned believed those behind the scientists’ deaths were illegally cloning people. Sally thought he was partly right, but she was not convinced they were cloning people in general. No, they cloned her. They had studied her for years. With her recent discovery of her healing properties, her blood was invaluable. That they did not strap her to a machine to drain her blood surprised her. She kept questioning the methods her abductors used. The inquiring left Sally emotionally drained. Too much thinking was unhealthy. They had not solved the case, but they had made headway. And, unfortunately, their enemies took Hunter. Justin tried to reassure her, saying if the kidnappers had killed him, they would have found his body by now. All she did was remain silent. She and Hunter never found Mr. William Sutton’s body. His logic was faulty. But she appreciated Justin’s attempt to console her, though he failed.

Another matter that got lost the day of the accident when they operated on her was that another scientist, Mr. Sam Baker, fell off a building a block away from Northwestern Memorial Hospital. In their haste to get to the mysterious woman, they never pursued the matter. To her, it was more of the same. Those working on their sick project were unceremoniously disposing of those they no longer needed. That gave her a heavy feeling. There was nothing to prevent them from doing the same to Hunter. A scientist was, in her estimation, of greater value to their end than Hunter.

Natalie, her ever-perceptive friend, had other ideas. The footage of what transpired at the medical facility before her daring shootout showed the usurper mirrored Sally’s every mannerism: the way she walked, the way she dressed, and, more importantly, the way she stared at Hunter. To Natalie, in her words, was the belief they were not only clones of one another, but they may have an unhealthy attraction to the same man. Sally never gave it much thought. But troubling thoughts did not muddle Natalie. She thought clearly. Sally believed she was cold and indifferent to her discomfort. But she recognized Natalie was a genuine friend, eager to help her. Natalie was not as preoccupied with her feelings as she was with solving the matter at hand.

What are you saying, Natalie?

"Sally, that woman followed you and Hunter for days, probably weeks. Who knows? The point is we noticed her existence at the clothing store where she had her hand on his cheek.