YEARS GONE
By Unlikely Hiro
Chapter VI: Escape and a Meeting
Lynn, Utah
Tuesday May 18, 2021
The bartender pushed the gun--Joey's, he realized--against his head, "Fucker! Couldn'
keep ya're nose where it belongs, couldja?" he cocked the gun, "Your a fuckin' fool,
jus' like the resta ya're race."
Joey sighed, and jerked his elbow backwards, hitting the bartender in the chest. He
then pivoted his arm backwards at the elbow, punching the bartender in the groin. As
the man doubled over, Joey stood up on his right leg and spun around, delivering a
roundhouse kick to the man. As the man tottered about, Joey karate chopped his
shoulder, knocking him to the floor.
Joey bent down to pick up his gun, "Who's the fool now?"
The bartender shouted, "Fellas! Backup now!" But no sound came out.
"Inaudibility," Joey said, "Handy huh? Thanks for warning me 'bout your backup." Joey
whacked the guy with the butt of his pistol, knocking him unconscious.
"Shit," Joey muttered, "Backup. Perfect." He flipped his camera over and turned it to
the cell mode, "Molly! We've got a problem!"
"What?!"
"The damn bartender came after me. I knocked him out, but I don't know if it's cold, if
you get what I mean. He said he had backup. I need to get out of here!"
He heard her sigh on the other end, "Alright, I'm coming." She abruptly hung up.
Joey pocketed the phone and got out another flash drive. He copied the entire
computer's drive to it, which took a few seconds. Checking the bartender's pulse, Joey
then put the night-vision goggles back on.
Joey's phone rang again, though thankfully he had made sure any noises coming from
his general direction were inaudible, "What?"
"Well, I'm not detecting anyone inside the house other than you and a guy in the room
with you who's unconscious."
"That's the bartender."
"There's a car and two guys in the backyard," She took a deep breath, "I don't see any
weapons on them, though. You can sneak out the front door safely."
Joey managed to leave the house without being detected. His ability to manipulate
sound helped.
"What happened?" Molly asked when he got into the car.
"Guy snuck up on me," Joey said as he sat down, "I set my gun down and he snatched
it without me noticing."
Molly turned the car around, "Left your ability 'on,' kid?" She shook her head in
disgust, "Really, Joey!"
"Alright, so I haven't been doing this as long as you, jeez girl!" Joey rolled down his
window, "Your one to talk. How the hell can you leave YOUR ability on, huh?"
"Shut up."
"Well? It's not like--"
"No, I'm serious. There's a car up ahead."
Molly slowed down and moved over as if to pass. The car was facing sideways,
blocking both lanes.
Joey silenced the engine, "I've got a bad feeling about this."
"Gee, I'm shocked," Molly muttered sarcastically, drawing her gun, "Come on."
Molly and Joey stepped out of their car and approached the other. She signaled to
Joey, and began running to the car without making a sound.
The car was on, the engine running. Molly peered in the window.
"Fuck!" she shouted, making Joey jump, "They've been shot!"
Joey walked up beside her. The occupants--an elderly man and woman--had each been
shot in the head. Joey sighed and turned around, noticing a note pinned under the
wipers.
Molly glanced at him, "Don't touch it! You don't want to leave prints!" Molly ran back to
her car and opened the trunk while Joey walked around the victim's car.
Molly came back. Joey noticed she was wearing gloves.
"What the hell...?"
"Always be prepared," she said, opening the note.
"For something kinky?"
"Piss off," she muttered and gestured him over, "Look at this."
Joey peered over her shoulder at the note. It read, "The wages of sin is death, and ye
have sinned against nature in thy torrid ways. Death to sugs!" It was signed "R.T."
"Great," Joey muttered, taking a picture of the note, "I hate it when people do that."
"What?" Molly folded up the note and put it back.
"Use religion in such a manner," he fingered a crucifix hanging around his neck. She
couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before.
Molly walked back to the car. Joey took a few more pictures before joining her.
They drove south, passing the house along the way. A few minutes after they passed,
Joey leaned against the door, "It's my fault."
"Joey…"
"That guy was coming after ME, Moll. This guy, this 'R.T.' wanted to kill my 'backup.'"
"And who assumed that those old people were with you? THAT bastard, Joey. YOU
didn't do anything."
Joey shook his head. Molly sighed and tapped the wheel.
"You can't blame yourself. If you blame yourself for what some jackass did, you'll
paralyze yourself, then kill yourself. It doesn't get you anywhere but hell in the end.
You've GOT to remember that, kid, or you'll destroy yourself."
"What do you know?"
Molly turned to glare at him. Joey sighed, "Right, stupid question."
She tapped the wheel again. About a half hour later they reached a fork in the road.
"Where are we?" Joey asked.
"The very outskirts of Rosette. Technically, both these roads are called 'Dove Creek
Road.'" They drove for three minutes until they reached a cross-street. Widely spaced
two-story homes with huge yards lined the far side of the cross-street.
"This street is called N-62800 West Road," Molly explained, turning right onto it, "We're
headed for Highway 30, then for a ranch on the east side of the highway."
A few minutes after that, they exited the highway, then turned down a side road. At the
end of it was an empty cul-de-sac amongst by small hills.
"Okay, what gives, Molly?" Joey looked around, "There's nothing here!"
She hit what looked like a garage door opener. A garage door opened in one of the
hills, "And I thought you spent your life hiding."
Molly drove them to an underground parking garage. When they stepped out, they
headed to a circular alcove with three doors. Taking the center door, Molly led him
down a hallway to a huge room. Dozens of desks were set up, usually in pairs facing
each other.
"Welcome to the Yamagato's Regional Office," Molly said, leading him to a pair of
desks, "That one's yours, 'kay?"
Joey sat down, "So what do I do?"
Molly began typing at her computer, "Whatever it is you did when you were in Seattle,
kid."
Joey sighed and flipped the computer on. It was a newer model, which ran on magnets
and didn't need to boot up. Joey uploaded the photos he took of the car and filed an
official report of what had happened in Lynn.
About ten minutes later, a light went off on his desk.
"Peter's here," Molly said, spinning her monitor. She screwed it off it's stand and
tucked it under her arm, "C'mon, we need to go to his office."
***
Meanwhile...
Colonel Harris sat down next to Colonel Cornwellson in the briefing room. The woman
was swirling around her coffee
"So Ingrid," he said, "Whattayou suppose the General wants us here for?"
"Something important, I'm sure," she muttered.
Harris put an arm around her shoulder, "It is rather late after all."
"I can break every bone in that arm in less than three seconds."
"C'mon, Ingrid..."
"We are not on first-name terms, HARRIS!"
He stood up and moved to another seat, visibly angry. Cornwellson took a sip of the
coffee and spat it out.
"Damn, this is cold!"
"Tragic," Maslarak muttered when he entered the room, "Where the fuck are Ye and
Jenkins?!"
"It's one-thirty in the fucking morning!" Harris shouted, "They're asleep, like God
intended, genius!"
Maslarak jabbed a finger at him, "You'd better watch it, Harris!" He pulled down the
projection screen and began to go through the papers he brought in with him.
A few moments later Colonel Jenkins burst into the room waving some papers, "Sir!
Excellent news!"
"It'd better be. Your late, damn late, Jenkins."
Jenkins handed him the papers, "You'll want to discuss this, sir. The FGR-207 is
operational."
"Are you sure?" Maslarak read the papers.
Jenkins waved his hand in a so-so gesture, "We need some final testing though."
"Absolutely NOT!" Harris stood up, "Not on my men!"
"That won't be necessary," Maslarak said without glancing at him, "We have subjects
we can use."
Jordan Ye entered the room and sat down next to Cornwellson, who explained the
situation to him.
"In any case, that's not why your here," Maslarak brought up a picture of a disheveled
young man, "This is Barry North. I'm sure some of you remember him. Santa Cruz,
November of '11?"
"Manifested aerokinesis," Harris said as if he were reading something, "Bastard
suffocated 600 kids. But he was a kid too."
Maslarak nodded, "He spent the last nine years in a holding cell in Guantanamo Bay."
"Why wasn't he executed?" Cornwellson asked angrily.
"He was twelve years old, moron," Maslarak hissed, "We don't kill children. He was
tried and convicted in absentia to life in solitary confinement."
"Good," Harris muttered.
"Not good," Maslarak waved a finger at him, "The psychological tor--damage he
received in there has made him insane. And unfortunately, he escaped on Feb' 19,
suffocating ten in the process."
The image changed to a dead man in a military uniform. His chest had been crushed as
if by a steamroller, "He has apparently been training himself during his time in 'lockup.'
He can manipulate the proportions of atmospheric gasses and their pressures within a
volume of approximately 27,000,000 cubic feet."
"A few football fields' worth," Harris mused.
"Now, this concerns US because he recently tortured a lieutenant who was affiliated
with our project. He HAD been killing random military officers as part of his 'revenge,'
but he is now targeting project affiliates.
"I've ordered the new SOP-3/E supplement packets for everyone in this base. These
oxygen gel packs can be swallowed whole by anyone who comes under attack. It
supplies oxygen for thirty minutes."
"Aren't those the ones used by Navy divers?" Ye asked.
"The same. The ones we'll be receiving have been calibrated for land use, of course."
He pointed at Harris, "I want that guy of yours with the all-spectrum vision, Johnson--"
"Jackson."
"His name can be Heinrichsvaler for all I care! Have him begin patrolling more and
more to look for this guy, got it?"
"Yes sir."
"He'll be supplemented by the 831st Special Reconnaissance Platoon from Groom
Lake, who possess similar abilities, on Friday. I want the rest of you to distribute
North's picture along with the orders to shoot on sight. Dismissed."
By Unlikely Hiro
Chapter VI: Escape and a Meeting
Lynn, Utah
Tuesday May 18, 2021
The bartender pushed the gun--Joey's, he realized--against his head, "Fucker! Couldn'
keep ya're nose where it belongs, couldja?" he cocked the gun, "Your a fuckin' fool,
jus' like the resta ya're race."
Joey sighed, and jerked his elbow backwards, hitting the bartender in the chest. He
then pivoted his arm backwards at the elbow, punching the bartender in the groin. As
the man doubled over, Joey stood up on his right leg and spun around, delivering a
roundhouse kick to the man. As the man tottered about, Joey karate chopped his
shoulder, knocking him to the floor.
Joey bent down to pick up his gun, "Who's the fool now?"
The bartender shouted, "Fellas! Backup now!" But no sound came out.
"Inaudibility," Joey said, "Handy huh? Thanks for warning me 'bout your backup." Joey
whacked the guy with the butt of his pistol, knocking him unconscious.
"Shit," Joey muttered, "Backup. Perfect." He flipped his camera over and turned it to
the cell mode, "Molly! We've got a problem!"
"What?!"
"The damn bartender came after me. I knocked him out, but I don't know if it's cold, if
you get what I mean. He said he had backup. I need to get out of here!"
He heard her sigh on the other end, "Alright, I'm coming." She abruptly hung up.
Joey pocketed the phone and got out another flash drive. He copied the entire
computer's drive to it, which took a few seconds. Checking the bartender's pulse, Joey
then put the night-vision goggles back on.
Joey's phone rang again, though thankfully he had made sure any noises coming from
his general direction were inaudible, "What?"
"Well, I'm not detecting anyone inside the house other than you and a guy in the room
with you who's unconscious."
"That's the bartender."
"There's a car and two guys in the backyard," She took a deep breath, "I don't see any
weapons on them, though. You can sneak out the front door safely."
Joey managed to leave the house without being detected. His ability to manipulate
sound helped.
"What happened?" Molly asked when he got into the car.
"Guy snuck up on me," Joey said as he sat down, "I set my gun down and he snatched
it without me noticing."
Molly turned the car around, "Left your ability 'on,' kid?" She shook her head in
disgust, "Really, Joey!"
"Alright, so I haven't been doing this as long as you, jeez girl!" Joey rolled down his
window, "Your one to talk. How the hell can you leave YOUR ability on, huh?"
"Shut up."
"Well? It's not like--"
"No, I'm serious. There's a car up ahead."
Molly slowed down and moved over as if to pass. The car was facing sideways,
blocking both lanes.
Joey silenced the engine, "I've got a bad feeling about this."
"Gee, I'm shocked," Molly muttered sarcastically, drawing her gun, "Come on."
Molly and Joey stepped out of their car and approached the other. She signaled to
Joey, and began running to the car without making a sound.
The car was on, the engine running. Molly peered in the window.
"Fuck!" she shouted, making Joey jump, "They've been shot!"
Joey walked up beside her. The occupants--an elderly man and woman--had each been
shot in the head. Joey sighed and turned around, noticing a note pinned under the
wipers.
Molly glanced at him, "Don't touch it! You don't want to leave prints!" Molly ran back to
her car and opened the trunk while Joey walked around the victim's car.
Molly came back. Joey noticed she was wearing gloves.
"What the hell...?"
"Always be prepared," she said, opening the note.
"For something kinky?"
"Piss off," she muttered and gestured him over, "Look at this."
Joey peered over her shoulder at the note. It read, "The wages of sin is death, and ye
have sinned against nature in thy torrid ways. Death to sugs!" It was signed "R.T."
"Great," Joey muttered, taking a picture of the note, "I hate it when people do that."
"What?" Molly folded up the note and put it back.
"Use religion in such a manner," he fingered a crucifix hanging around his neck. She
couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before.
Molly walked back to the car. Joey took a few more pictures before joining her.
They drove south, passing the house along the way. A few minutes after they passed,
Joey leaned against the door, "It's my fault."
"Joey…"
"That guy was coming after ME, Moll. This guy, this 'R.T.' wanted to kill my 'backup.'"
"And who assumed that those old people were with you? THAT bastard, Joey. YOU
didn't do anything."
Joey shook his head. Molly sighed and tapped the wheel.
"You can't blame yourself. If you blame yourself for what some jackass did, you'll
paralyze yourself, then kill yourself. It doesn't get you anywhere but hell in the end.
You've GOT to remember that, kid, or you'll destroy yourself."
"What do you know?"
Molly turned to glare at him. Joey sighed, "Right, stupid question."
She tapped the wheel again. About a half hour later they reached a fork in the road.
"Where are we?" Joey asked.
"The very outskirts of Rosette. Technically, both these roads are called 'Dove Creek
Road.'" They drove for three minutes until they reached a cross-street. Widely spaced
two-story homes with huge yards lined the far side of the cross-street.
"This street is called N-62800 West Road," Molly explained, turning right onto it, "We're
headed for Highway 30, then for a ranch on the east side of the highway."
A few minutes after that, they exited the highway, then turned down a side road. At the
end of it was an empty cul-de-sac amongst by small hills.
"Okay, what gives, Molly?" Joey looked around, "There's nothing here!"
She hit what looked like a garage door opener. A garage door opened in one of the
hills, "And I thought you spent your life hiding."
Molly drove them to an underground parking garage. When they stepped out, they
headed to a circular alcove with three doors. Taking the center door, Molly led him
down a hallway to a huge room. Dozens of desks were set up, usually in pairs facing
each other.
"Welcome to the Yamagato's Regional Office," Molly said, leading him to a pair of
desks, "That one's yours, 'kay?"
Joey sat down, "So what do I do?"
Molly began typing at her computer, "Whatever it is you did when you were in Seattle,
kid."
Joey sighed and flipped the computer on. It was a newer model, which ran on magnets
and didn't need to boot up. Joey uploaded the photos he took of the car and filed an
official report of what had happened in Lynn.
About ten minutes later, a light went off on his desk.
"Peter's here," Molly said, spinning her monitor. She screwed it off it's stand and
tucked it under her arm, "C'mon, we need to go to his office."
***
Meanwhile...
Colonel Harris sat down next to Colonel Cornwellson in the briefing room. The woman
was swirling around her coffee
"So Ingrid," he said, "Whattayou suppose the General wants us here for?"
"Something important, I'm sure," she muttered.
Harris put an arm around her shoulder, "It is rather late after all."
"I can break every bone in that arm in less than three seconds."
"C'mon, Ingrid..."
"We are not on first-name terms, HARRIS!"
He stood up and moved to another seat, visibly angry. Cornwellson took a sip of the
coffee and spat it out.
"Damn, this is cold!"
"Tragic," Maslarak muttered when he entered the room, "Where the fuck are Ye and
Jenkins?!"
"It's one-thirty in the fucking morning!" Harris shouted, "They're asleep, like God
intended, genius!"
Maslarak jabbed a finger at him, "You'd better watch it, Harris!" He pulled down the
projection screen and began to go through the papers he brought in with him.
A few moments later Colonel Jenkins burst into the room waving some papers, "Sir!
Excellent news!"
"It'd better be. Your late, damn late, Jenkins."
Jenkins handed him the papers, "You'll want to discuss this, sir. The FGR-207 is
operational."
"Are you sure?" Maslarak read the papers.
Jenkins waved his hand in a so-so gesture, "We need some final testing though."
"Absolutely NOT!" Harris stood up, "Not on my men!"
"That won't be necessary," Maslarak said without glancing at him, "We have subjects
we can use."
Jordan Ye entered the room and sat down next to Cornwellson, who explained the
situation to him.
"In any case, that's not why your here," Maslarak brought up a picture of a disheveled
young man, "This is Barry North. I'm sure some of you remember him. Santa Cruz,
November of '11?"
"Manifested aerokinesis," Harris said as if he were reading something, "Bastard
suffocated 600 kids. But he was a kid too."
Maslarak nodded, "He spent the last nine years in a holding cell in Guantanamo Bay."
"Why wasn't he executed?" Cornwellson asked angrily.
"He was twelve years old, moron," Maslarak hissed, "We don't kill children. He was
tried and convicted in absentia to life in solitary confinement."
"Good," Harris muttered.
"Not good," Maslarak waved a finger at him, "The psychological tor--damage he
received in there has made him insane. And unfortunately, he escaped on Feb' 19,
suffocating ten in the process."
The image changed to a dead man in a military uniform. His chest had been crushed as
if by a steamroller, "He has apparently been training himself during his time in 'lockup.'
He can manipulate the proportions of atmospheric gasses and their pressures within a
volume of approximately 27,000,000 cubic feet."
"A few football fields' worth," Harris mused.
"Now, this concerns US because he recently tortured a lieutenant who was affiliated
with our project. He HAD been killing random military officers as part of his 'revenge,'
but he is now targeting project affiliates.
"I've ordered the new SOP-3/E supplement packets for everyone in this base. These
oxygen gel packs can be swallowed whole by anyone who comes under attack. It
supplies oxygen for thirty minutes."
"Aren't those the ones used by Navy divers?" Ye asked.
"The same. The ones we'll be receiving have been calibrated for land use, of course."
He pointed at Harris, "I want that guy of yours with the all-spectrum vision, Johnson--"
"Jackson."
"His name can be Heinrichsvaler for all I care! Have him begin patrolling more and
more to look for this guy, got it?"
"Yes sir."
"He'll be supplemented by the 831st Special Reconnaissance Platoon from Groom
Lake, who possess similar abilities, on Friday. I want the rest of you to distribute
North's picture along with the orders to shoot on sight. Dismissed."
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