The Immortal Gene Page 27

  Jake hollered an inhuman cry as the ax penetrated his left shoulder, digging deep. A second later, he plowed into Edwin, his right hand gaining purchase around Edwin’s neck, his left hand deflected by the ax.

  As one, the men backed up to the wall, hitting it hard enough to daze Edwin. His eyes rolled back and he slipped down to the linoleum floor mumbling gibberish to himself.

  Jake eyed the ax, the blood starting to drip down his chest and stomach.

  Without wasting another moment, he gripped the ax handle, took a deep breath, then reefed upward and out, yanking it from his flesh. After a moment hovering over the Blood Eagle Killer, Jake had full use of his left hand again.

  He grabbed Edwin by the hair, lifted him upward with one hand, spun him around to face the wall, and drew the ax back.

  “For the Reilly family,” Jake shouted. “For the dead children.”

  In one strong forward thrust, he impaled Edwin to the wall, the ax going straight through Edwin’s shoulder blade and into the wooden stud behind the drywall.

  Edwin wailed, his cheek pressed against the drywall. He moaned No over and over, his eyes trying to find Jake behind him.

  “For the Marcello family,” Jake muttered.

  He grabbed a kitchen knife from the block on the counter, not thinking about the consequences, simply not caring anymore. The names of all the men, women and children raced through his mind. The fathers torn apart because of this sick fuck. The women raped and then ruined with acid. The children with lives ahead of them, dreams and hopes. All ruined because Edwin had felt like it. All destroyed because Edwin was fucked up in the head.

  “Be fucked up on your own time!” Jake shouted as he jabbed a knife into Edwin’s back on the left of his spine. Then he repeated the procedure on the right.

  Edwin screamed, sounding like a scared teenage girl at a horror movie.

  “For the women ...” he whispered to himself, his teeth locked together, jaw tight.

  Jake worked quickly, reaching inside Edwin’s back. He broke rib bones out on either side of Edwin’s spine. Somewhere along the way, Edwin quieted, but Jake didn’t care. He was honed in, working on his task, the color red all he could see.

  “Live by the Blood Eagle, die by it,” Jake said in his rage.

  Then he did what the Blood Eagle Killer had done before him. He pulled Edwin’s ribs outward to expose Edwin’s vibrating lungs.

  Before Edwin died suspended by the ax to his own kitchen wall, Jake grabbed both lungs simultaneously and pulled them out of Edwin’s body cavity to place on the exposed ribs.

  They fluttered a few times as Edwin’s body shut down, then stopped their movement in response to Edwin’s inactive heart.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. The authorities were coming. Blood was everywhere, covering Jake’s hands and sleeves.

  Jake spat on the corpse and glanced one last time at Edwin’s face. Even in death, Edwin smiled.

  “Fuck you,” Jake said, his head pounding with rage. “I’ll see you in Hell.”

  “Jake?” a soft voice said behind him.

  He threw his hands up in defense and spun around so fast he almost fell over.

  At the opening to the basement stairs, Kirk tried to stand, still tied to the chair. Fresh blood seeped from his bullet wound, glistening a deep red in the kitchen light.

  “What are ...” Kirk tried. He swallowed and tried again. “What are you doing?”

  “Edwin Gavin is the Blood Eagle Killer,” Jake said. “The proof is in the bedroom at the end of the hall.” Sirens stopped out front. Jake edged toward the back door. “Tell them you caught the bastard.”

  “How do I explain?” He nodded toward Edwin’s corpse. “That?”

  Jake opened the back door with the broken knob and stepped outside.

  “I don’t know, partner. I don’t know.” He lowered his head as humanity seeped back and he felt the full weight of what he had done. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Jake. Go. I got this.”

  Someone knocked at the front door.

  “Go, Jake. You were never here. And hey.”

  Jake stopped and peeked back inside.

  “Thanks for saving my life,” Kirk said.

  Jake turned and ran. He ran and ran and ran, his new body replenishing tired muscles as he sprinted. He didn’t stop until he got to the beach five kilometers away where he ran into Lake Ontario and cleaned himself of the evening’s battle. He washed away the dirt, the blood, and the stench of Edwin Gavin.

  But he couldn’t wash away the guilt, the loss, or the pain.

  Even his new body couldn’t save him from grief.

  Nothing could.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Exhausted and frustrated, Jake entered his house in Novar the next day and dropped onto his couch. He put his face in his hands. How close had his partner come to being murdered? And discovering the killer of Ontario families made Jake feel good, but he regretted killing him in a blind rage. If Edwin had lived, he would have faced the full wrath of the law. The extended families of the people Edwin had killed could have had closure.

  But all that was gone. And Jake was a murderer. At any moment the police, his colleagues, would roll up and arrest him. After what Edwin had done, it would be Jake who spent years in prison. It was all on Jake.

  But how could he have controlled that searing rage? Maybe it would take time. Maybe he needed to get used to his new body. Maybe things could still work out for him.

  He sat back and raised his face to the ceiling.

  What next? Where should he go? What should he do? Find Fortech Industries? How? An organization like that was well hidden behind shell companies and titles with government security up the wazoo.

  The phone rang beside him. He checked call display then picked up.

  “Kirk?” Jake said.

  “How you doing, Jake?” his friend asked.

  “You calling to give me a time?” Jake said, ignoring Kirk’s question.

  “A time?”

  “When I’ll be arrested.”

  “No. They’re not looking for you.” Kirk said. Then added, “Yet.”

  “What do you mean by yet?”

  “They’re dusting for prints in Edwin’s house. They know someone else was there. Sure we found all the evidence to implicate Edwin going all the way back to the first family. We even discovered a few notebooks where he wrote the dates and times of the things he did to thwart Detective Joslin on this case, his own case, going back ten years. Having the murderer in charge of processing the bodies was a huge mistake. Heads are going to roll over this.”

  Jake listened, but only heard bits of what Kirk was saying.

  “You said yet,” Jake reminded him.

  “They found a partial print on a light switch. Also, on the handle of the ax. But they had nothing conclusive until they found the doorknob in the bushes. Was that you?”

  “That was me,” he said.

  “Okay, I’ll do what I can with the results. I should warn you, though. If they pull a good print off the knob, my cover story is out the window.”

  Jake closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “What was your cover story?”

  “Better you don’t know all the details, just that they know I was locked in the basement and someone, obviously not me, attacked Edwin. They’re surmising it’s a vigilante. Someone attached to one of the cases. At this moment, everyone’s looking for a violent vigilante. Someone with extreme strength as Edwin’s bones were broken by hand.”

  “They can tell that? What about a strap or something?”

  “The bones were pulled on, snapped. They weren’t cut with a blade. The profile is a monster of a man fueled by rage.”

  “They have no idea how close they are to the truth.”

  A silence stretched between them. Jake waited, breathing calmly. If they came for him, he’d deal with it, as he’d done with harsh realities in the past. If they didn’t, maybe he could help Kirk look for
the vigilante. Just like Edwin, he could help on the case to catch himself.

  “Jake, you going to be okay?” Kirk asked.

  “Yeah. Just keep me up to date.”

  “Keep you up to date?” Kirk said, surprise in his voice. “Shit man, you saved my life. I’m going to save yours here. Then together, we’ll go after that Adam guy. I want Fortech Industries as bad as you.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “You should think about staying somewhere else for the time being.”

  “Why?”

  “Adam knows where you live.”

  “So? I hope he comes here. I’ll get the answers I want, then kill him. He’d be doing me a favor.”

  A moment of silence on the phone again.

  “You’re different, Jake, but somehow still the same.”

  “Come see me soon,” Jake said. “I could use the company. And pick up the files you left behind. We won’t be needing them anymore.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hey, Kirk?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did Megan get cleaned up and taken home to her kids?”

  “Cleaned up, yes, but her kids were brought here to be with her. The husband’s funeral will be in four days.”

  “Okay. Just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

  “A broken hand that was set and casted today. Otherwise, he didn’t do anything to her, sexually or otherwise.”

  “Okay. Kirk, call me.”

  “Done.”

  Jake hung up. The phone rang as he pulled his hand away. He snatched it up.

  “Forgot something?” he asked.

  “I wanted to say thank you,” Adam’s voice came on the line. Jake froze, tightening the grip on the receiver. “For dealing with Edwin. He was such a nuisance.”

  “Let’s meet.”

  “We will, but not yet. I want to watch the police solve their case of the vigilante on the loose. In the meantime, as you’re the target the police are looking for, you can be my target as well.”

  “Fuck you, Adam. I’ll find you and when I do, I’ll bleed you, slice your head off, and then burn the remains.”

  “I gave you a gift, Jake Wood. Yet you fail to see my brilliance. Because of what I gave you, the BEK killer has been found and murdered in an appropriate fashion. Jake, you should be thanking me.”

  “Fuck you.” He gripped the phone tighter.

  “Since you are now my target, I will aim to hurt and kill any and everyone close to you. Anything you hold dear is now mine.”

  “You’ll die,” Jake shouted as the familiar anger raced through him. “Come now, motherfucker. Come now. I will eat your face off and shit down your throat. I’ll pop your eyes out and shit in your skull.”

  “Cindy will be first,” Adam said as if Jake hadn’t spoken. “And her new baby girl. Then your house will burn. Kirk will have a work accident. Slowly, piece by piece, I will take your life apart from the shadows until you’re a withered piece of mucus, begging me to kill you. Do you understand, Jake? You are The Target and I will stop at nothing to destroy you.”

  Jake slammed the phone down, breaking it into chunks of plastic under the force of his hand.

  He ran for his cell phone. He needed to warn Cindy. He needed to call Kirk. He needed to hide, go underground.

  Adam had to be found and killed before he found them.

  Jake would be nobody’s target.

  Jake would stop at nothing to protect his family, his friends.

  Nothing.

  His cell phone rang from the kitchen as he ran to it.

  Call display said it was Cindy.

  His heart sank as he picked it up.

  “Cindy, are you okay?” Jake shouted into the phone. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

  “Yeah, Jake,” her voice was calm, nasally, as if she’d been crying. “I’m fine. Just wanted to tell you I had a baby girl this morning. We haven’t talked much since you left the clinic in Brazil and I was thinking of you as I held my baby.” She hiccupped and sobbed. “Just thought I’d be holding your baby one day, but life happened and well, I’m sorry, just thought you should know.”

  Jake held the counter so he didn’t collapse. How had Adam known Cindy had had a baby girl this morning if he wasn’t at the hospital already?

  “Cindy, there’s something I have to tell you. Where are you right now?”

  “Orillia Hospital. What, no congrats? Are you still mad at me?”

  “Cindy, please. Listen to me ...”

  Afterword

  Dear Reader,

  Wow, what a ride. I’ve enjoyed every moment of it. The idea for The Immortal Gene first came to me over a year before I wrote the first word. I had been quite involved with Sarah Roberts’ life at the time and I wasn’t sure if The Immortal Gene would translate well to the readers of the Sarah Roberts Series.

  For me, in the beginning of the idea for this novel, I was thinking Jake would be a new version of a vampire, without the traditional bloodsucking part. He would end up being a snake-man as in this novel, but with more anger, more horror. In the end, I wanted to have someone like Jake, a kind, good-hearted man, who was chemically altered with modified snake venom. I wanted Jake to become part snake, but not enough that his human side diminished outwardly. Jake is everything I wanted him to be. He’s a strong, powerful man who can’t die—unless torn apart and burned—and has a good heart, but piss him off, get in his way, or hurt the weak, and he’ll exact justice his way.

  Now that Jake has been explained, I want to mention a few things from the novel. In Chapter Six, I mentioned Naughty by Nature and their song, “O.P.P.” Find it on YouTube and enjoy a song from the early nineties that was big in my youth.

  Also, in Chapter Six, I referenced the movie A Few Good Men. I loved that movie. I’m a major movie and music buff. When writing novels I listen to original scores of movie soundtracks and I’ve been told that I write my manuscripts in a cinematic way that the reader sees the action taking place. For the record, that is and always will be my intention.

  In this novel I mentioned Moxy Fruvous, Fairground Attraction, and Blue October. If you haven’t experienced these bands and are interested, check them out on YouTube. Moxy Fruvous is a Toronto-based band and my favorite song is called “My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors.” Fairground Attraction is from the late eighties, early nineties, and their song “Perfect” is probably the one most readers would recognize. Blue October has several albums that are hot, but my favorite is the passion-fueled album Any Man in America from 2011.

  Fortech Industries is a fictitious company. In the first full-length novel I ever wrote back in year 2000 called, Bad Vibes, Fortech Industries was experimenting with a shock-wave bomb, another fictitious kind of killing device. Bad Vibes isn’t available for sale at this time. That story is collecting dust on my hard drive. But Fortech Industries has always stewed in the back of mind, as if it held a power of its own. Something devious and dark. Like the radiating seepage leaking out of the crack in a nuclear reactor, I couldn’t ignore Fortech anymore and decided to make them the villain in this book. In the next book, (potentially titled, The Target), The Jake Wood Series Book Two, Fortech Industries will be summarily dealt with or live on for years to come. I guess we will both have to wait to see what happens with Fortech.

  Two readers’ names made it into the book. I hope Tammy Feltz, the officer at the Marcello Family massacre, didn’t mind her bit part, and Detective Keri Joslin didn’t mind me taking the BEK case away from her. Thanks for letting me use your names and being good sports about it.

  A special thanks goes out to all the readers (that means you) for taking a chance on me and this book. It’s the first in a series that will span quite a few more books. I appreciate you and I’m eternally grateful that you’re in my life through the medium of reading the words I string together.

  For the record, whether the Ontario Provincial Police call their homicide officers detectives or inspectors, I’ve elected to call them detectiv
es.

  If there are mistakes in this manuscript, they’re all mine. They are never the result of my fabulous editors, whom I thank with enormous gratitude for the work they have done. I couldn’t do this without them.

  I’m looking forward to the release of The Target.

  Until then, talk soon, and get caught reading.

  Love you all,

  Jonas

  About the Author

  Jonas Saul is the bestselling author of the Sarah Roberts Series and has sold over two million books. Upon several occasions, Saul has outranked Stephen King and Dean Koontz in the Top 100 Authors on Amazon list. His most recent release, The Future Is Written, is published by pioneering media company Adaptive Studios.

  Saul has traveled extensively throughout the world to scout settings for his thrillers, spending several years between Greece, Italy, Denmark, and Hungary. He is regularly invited to be a guest speaker at international writing conferences.

  He currently resides in British Columbia.

  www.jonassaul.com