The Misbegotten
Jacob - Summer 2018

[The trip ismonotonous, slow, an agonizing trudge. He needs to do something to occupy his mind, other than lounge aboutwith no more than the worrisome thoughts of the present. He wants to relive the past, but he isdreading it. Though he is convincedthere is, in fact, an answer buried there. He’s not certain he can handle the unearthing of it. And yet, he has nothing better to do.]

It was 6:32 pm exactly when Jacob called later on thatevening.

I know this for a fact, all these years later. Because when the line disconnected with nowarning ten minutes into the call, I thought I would never hear from him again.

I was wrong of course. You see, if there is one thing to say about my cousin, it is this. He is a motherfucken cockroach. You can stab him or shoot him or bash himover the head with a god damned sledge hammer.

Fuck, you caneven hand-grenade the sonofabitch!

He will always, under the most miraculous conditions,pick himself up off the floor, dust himself off. He’ll stare at death in the eye and say,“What, deeeeck, you think your fucking love taps hurt? It’ll take a lot more than that to put a Rodriguez in the ground, bitch!”

Then, he’d flip you off and walk away, lighting up ajoint.

Even back then, he was indestructible.

Nowadays, I like to think of him as a defective, punyversion of the Incredible Hulk. No matter what you do to the fucker, healways seems to be able to walk away unscathed, maybe even stronger. It always makes me shake my head in wonder.

FuckingJacob!

That’s the only phrase that capture’s him in aholistic sense, in one breath comprise his existence.

Nonetheless, the call came while I was finishing upthe dishes with Katie, Flavia and Johan. We all decided to stick close to one another. After my two younger siblings came underassaulted by the same mysterious sickness attacking many of us on that fatefulday, we thought it best.

“Jacob, what’s up?” I had asked at once, answering thecall with a slide of my finger.

“Hey, Eff,this is going to be a quick call. I gota shitload to tell you and not a lot of fucking time to do it,” he said, sounding out of breath, harried,rushed. “I think I’m under surveillance or something, cuz -.”

I heard rustling on the other end of the line as if hewere transferring his cell from one hand to the next.

“- I keepseeing the same fucking Culos following me all over the god damnedplace. The maricones are everywhere!”

I rolled my eyes. Already I hoped, in his “quest about the streets”, that Jacob hadn’tsmoked a joint or two laced with some psychotropic substance. That was the last thing I needed rightthen. I needed him focused, on point,like he had been earlier that day. Icouldn’t have him drugged out of his mind on PCP or some other stupidshit. Too much was happening toofast. I had to keep up. Too soon, I felt like a bug buried at thebottom of a port-o-potty, praying there wouldn’t be another shit storm fromabove.

“Dude, you’re gonna have to get it together. I don’t have time to be messing around rightnow. This Muto shit is getting out ofcontrol,” I emphasized, voice sharp. Iwas about to say more, but caught myself of a sudden. This was an open cell line, easily tapped andtriangulated. Maybe I had said too muchalready.

FUCK!!!

“What are youtalking about, cuz?” asked Jacob, histone, his inflection – everything changing in a flash.

Naw, thisdude wasn’t fucked up. Not at all.

I recovered in seconds. “Forget it, man. I was talking out of my ass. Jus-just go ahead and tell me what you foundout, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said immediately. “Ok, well, you remember thatdealer I was talking with earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, wellthat dude, being the cool fucker I always knew he was, did some searching onhis own. But you know damned well he didit out of respect for our uncles, not us, right?”

“Sounds right,” was all I said, hoping he would get tothe point.

“Anyway, bro,he’s got an acquaintance - no more like a colleague - in the organization he’sbelongs to. This guy… well, this guy isa little more connected, you know? Hehas bigger clients, more contacts. Let’sjust say he’s a bigger fish in the pond, ok?”

I nodded to myself, but stayed otherwise silent.

“This dudetells my guy that it might be a good idea to stop dealing for a while, atleast, until things calm down. This ofcourse made my guy curious, so he asks the dude, why?” Jacobpaused to take a breath and cleared his throat. “The dude says one of his clients fuckingworks for the NIA. He’s a soldier in oneof the Shock Units they’ve been shipping to this part of town in secret sincethe beginning of spring. This troopertells my friend’s friend something big is about to go down.

“Curioushimself, the dude offers the trooper a free hit of some new shit he’d recentlyacquired, hoping to pump him for more info.

“After a fewhits, the trooper – out of fucking nowhere – says, ‘you ever heard of InhalerSoftware?’ Of course, the dude has nofucken idea what he’s talking about and says so. The trooper takes another monster hit, keepsthe smoke in his chest for a minute or so, then explodes with it a big grin onhis face. He says to the dude, ‘Inhaleris some real crazy shit, my man. It cantell who’s a Muto and who’s not. It caneven back track data all the way to the point of origin. Soon, it’ll have tracked the Muto Taint allthe way back to the fucking explosion itself.

“Once it’sdone that, the techs will have the ability to fast forward the software topredict where the highest probable Muto outbreaks will occur.’

“The dudeasks, ‘what explosion?’

“And thetrooper says, ‘the explosion of the comet that was on its way to destroying alllife on earth last year, you stupid fuck!’

“Thisconfuses the dude even more and he says what does that have to do with Muto’s?

“The troopertakes another hit and says, ‘that’s where it all came from, man. The comet wasn’t just ice and rock and youroccasional hunk of metal. There wassomething else on it, something that affects humans in an adverse way. This something – whatever it is - has thepotential to turn anyone into a full blown Muto in a matter of months.’

“The dude islike totally shocked and kinda puts two and two together. After a few seconds or so, asks the trooperwhy are there so many of his homies hanging around Highland Park.

“The trooperlooks at the dude with glossy eyes. Hesays, ‘the Inhaler Software predicted an inordinate probability of Mutomanifestation throughout the whole northeastern section of Los Angeles. It seems, the program tracked a unique strainof the shit coming out of the comet. This is a very strong, a very potent strain, and the NIA is dead set onwiping out to the last Muto. Noquestions asked just pure eradication.’

“The trooperstops right then, you know, seems to catch himself. He looks over at the dude and says, ‘it’sgoing to happen soon. It’s going to be aclusterfuck for the civilian population around here. You should think about clearing out.’ Then the bastard takes another hit ofwhatever the dude had given him and walks the fuck out of the room.

“My guy islistening to the dude as he tells his story and then it hits him square in the cajones what thedude is talking about. He realizes, thewhole thing connects to the request I had made earlier. So, he hits me up on my cell. He starts talking like crazy about howsomething fucked up is about to go down. I should get my family out of Dodge, like now.

“Eff, hesounded a little spooked, you know? Andthis guy is usually as calm as dried-up shit. So, I said I’d take his advice serious and he cut out. About an hour after the call, I started seeingmotherfuckers in suits and ties off in the distance. They were just fucken standing there, staringat me and nothing else. It’s been hours now, Eff,and these guys aren’t letting up. They’reall over me, cuz.” He stopped then,mumbled something unintelligible.

Then a high burst of static sounded through theearpiece.

I had to pull the cell from my ear. “Jake, you still there?!” I asked as loud asI could, the moment the shrill noises ceased.

A heartbeat or two later, he came back on, but I couldjust hear him.

I repeated myself a few more times to no avail.

Then, as clear as a bell, “Eff, you still there,” said my cousin.

“Yeah man, I’m still here,” I answered him. My head was running a mile a minute.

“Whadayathink we should do?” askedJacob. His voice was just above awhisper.

I heard him, but there was one thing, one item that hehad mentioned that made everything else seem inconsequential. “You said, the trooper had said, the Mutoshit had come from the comet?”

“Yeah, man,isn’t that crazy,” he replied after ashort delay. Again, it sounded like hewas moving fast, as though he were running and hiding - moving fast, thenslow. It was erratic, weird in my ears,but I could picture it so clear in my mind’s eye.

“That’s pretty fucked up, if you ask me,” I voiced myopinion with heart. “I mean, here weare, saved from mass destruction, only to face something else. It's like a curse or something. Doesn’t that seem kinda Wrath of God to you?”

“I don’t knowwhat it sounds like, Eff. All I know isthese motherfuckers are after me. Wegotta figure out what the hell we are going to do,” retorted mycousin, breathing ragged now. He waslaboring. I knew he wasn’t much of anathlete. Running would wind him fast.

“Where are you, Jacob? What the fuck is going on?” I asked, realizing he just might be tellingthe truth instead of acting like an ass. Maybe someone was following him!

“I’m notgonna say right now, cuz. I have a badfeeling about all this -.”

“Hey you!” It was anothervoice in the background, male and resonated with authority. “Stopwhere you are, right now!”

“Oh shit,Eff, they fucking found me. Fuck! Fuck!!”

All at once, there were scratching sounds, jostlingand fervent movement through the cell. Isquinted against it, but kept the device plastered to my ear. I wasn’t about to miss a single detail now,just in case.

“Shit, thesemotherfuckers -. Fuck! Oh, SHIT!” was all Jacob managed.

“Halt! We have you in our sights, young man. Stop now or we will use lethal force!” It was thesame voice from before only amplified, metallic in tone.

“Fuck you!” I heard Jacobyell at the top of his lungs, more distortion and garbled noises followed.

“Jake, are you ok?!?” I bellowed into the microphoneof the cell. “Jake! Answer me, Jake!”

That was when I heard the first shot. It sounded like a hollow snap through theconnection. I could hear Jacob breathinglike a madman. There were more indiscerniblepops and squeals.

Next came the words, sending a chill up my spine.

“Shoot foreffect! Bring him down!”

I closed my eyes as ten, twenty, then thirty, forty,fifty, a hundred shots rang out – again and again. There were so many it seemed like they wouldnever stop.

A second later, the Jacob’s cell hit something, ormaybe something had hit it. I wouldnever know. A blink of an eye later, thesignal dropped and I lost him. I hadlost my cousin to some faceless enemy, some adversary I hadn’t even understood.

Jacob was dead. He had to be.

I looked at my cell with stark unbelief, my face arictus of horror. I let me gaze fall tothe others in the kitchen with me.

They all stared back, dread plain in each of theireyes.

All I could say was, “They got him. They got him. They got him!”

Katie rushed forward and crushed me with her embrace,attempting to force strength and courage back into me.

Yet, when my gaze found my brother’s, it drained awayall the same. I was a ragdoll in mycousin’s arms.

Jacob was dead.

The NIA had killed him. And forwhat? Information? The fucking truth?

It was the first step of many, down the path I’vetrudged, taking me to where I am today, all these years later. A path lined with all the vile titles othershave called me over the decades – assassin, extortionist, pimp, sexualpredator, terrorist, Muto, bigamist.

Fuck, the list goes on and on. Some of which is truth, though most is justthe persona that has evolved around me and my associates.

[He slips tothe surface like an alligator in water. Just eyes and nostrils break the surface.]

What did youexpect? A Hero? A righteous vigilante? Fuck all that shit. We went from frighten refugees to become theAegis Synod. I never fucking cared whatpeople thought about me. I still don’tgive a shit. This was about survival,protecting what I loved. I know itstarted that evening when I thought the government had gunned down mycousin. I know now, they made me acriminal that night. They forged mywill. I would never be one of the goodguys. Naw, I was going to be somethingelse, something… feared…

…And, I wasgoing to kill them all.