“He’s much better now, thanks to you and your friends.His back is better daily, and now that the flooding has been dealt with, he can at least rest comfortably without worrying.”
Apollo and his team had helped Mary’s father during the floods that threatened half his property and livestock.They’d worked for days redirecting the water flow away from the farm and installing a new farming tile system, ensuring the property would never be in danger again.
“Good, I’m glad we could help,” Apollo said with a smile.It was good to keep community members on his side.
The young woman smiled back and poured out some more much-needed caffeine.Apollo hadn’t slept well in a while, hell, it had been years if ever.There was always something or someone to worry about, plans to make, things to build or fix, people to help and track down, and of course, a group of psychotic, power-hungry lunatics to wipe off the face of the earth.What he’d give for a moment’s peace, for his mind to stop racing.He’d learned to function at a high level without having what others took for granted – an off switch.Maybe his brain wasn’t wired right.
Apollo knew there wasn’t a single part of himself that was normal, untouched by the Noah Group scientists, and likely his brain was among the casualties.The scent of bleach coming from a cloth being used to wipe down an adjacent table brought him back to places he didn’t want to go.
He was young, not more than ten, lying on a cold steel table waiting for whatever the bastards had thought to test out on him next.The room was bright and smelled of antiseptic, likely used to clean up evidence of an earlier test subject.Apollo’s hands and feet were locked in place as a group of men gathered around a monitor, discussing him as if he were nothing more than a lab rat.
“We tried that last time, and the results were minor at best,” one stated.“We need to up the dosage and expand the area.”
“If we up it any higher, his prefrontal cortex could expand beyond the capacity of his skull,” another added.
“Yeah, but think of the speed at which he’ll be able to process information.Faster than any current data suggests is possible.His brain would work much like a supercomputer.”
“If it doesn’t turn his brain cells to mush in the process.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.We’d be light-years ahead of the Colorado Division.Those bastards are always so smug in their state-of-the-art labs.”
Apollo remembered how they all turned to look at him, each weighing their options, judging what the life of the young boy lying on the table was worth in the grand scheme of things.He knew the moment that he was deemed to be worthless by the self-assured gleam in their eyes.
“Prep subject eight-nine-nine for surgery.”
Those were the last words Apollo remembered hearing before the constant buzzing in his brain took hold, and whatever small scraps of peace he’d got left were cut away.
He gulped the hot liquid without checking the temperature; it didn’t matter if it was scalding hot; it wouldn’t hurt him.He drank his coffee black.Why dilute the dark goodness?If he could mainline caffeine, he would.It’d save time.
His thoughts drifted back.
“You sure about this?”Griffin asked.
“Yes,” Apollo stated.
“Okay, let’s get started,” Griffin announced, and the team spread out to survey the area.
Apollo looked at his ancestral land, the land bequeathed to him by his Iroquois grandmother, and felt a sense of peace for the first time.For centuries, his ancestors were the caretakers of this land.The Iroquois, Algonquins, Mohawks, Mohicans, Abenaki, and Huron played a role in the area’s history.This was where he’d create a safe space for his people, beyond the clutches of the Noah Group, so they could continue their mission to end their reign of terror.He watched his younger half-sister, Ellen, run into the long grass.Her arms opened wide, and he couldn’t help but smile.
***
Brick had given him the rundown on Rocko, including the man’s talents, his ability to track anyone down regardless of the distance or mode of transportation, and a remarkable memory.Rocko had been genetically modified and dumped in an orphanage as a child.He’d never met other survivors before Brick and his crew.
For years, Apollo and his team believed they’d been alone in this fight until, back in New Orleans, they learned of another group led by a retired Navy SEAL named Brick.They’d encountered each other during a recovery mission in which a member of Apollo’s crew was captured and executed by the Noah Group followers.From that point forward, the two teams worked together.The more people they had fighting against the Noah Group, the better.And when some of those on his side had unique abilities—even better.
Apollo’s mind wandered to the stranger, and he wondered what it would be like to be the human equivalent of a bloodhound.The thought made him grin, picturing a man with big droopy ears and a sad face.
“Christ, I need to get a hobby,” Apollo chuckled as he ran his palm down his face.
“May I suggest knitting?”a deep voice said from behind him, sending awareness down his spine.“Or knife throwing.Whatever gets you off.”
Apollo turned to find the detective standing a few feet away, smiling wide.Shit.How?
“To answer your unasked question, I thought to myself,where would I sit when I want to be an asshole and observe an intruder without looking suspicious?The restaurant across the street seemed logical unless you had laundry to do next door at the laundromat, but a hulking guy like yourself sticks out.When you were getting your refill, I made my move.”
Apollo leaned back in his chair, observing Rocko.Yep, tanned and blond, muscled and tall, with dark blue eyes scanning the area on repeat.He knew the type and the ego-ridden nonsense that came with them.
“Want a fuckin’ prize?”Apollo asked, unimpressed.
