Enhanced: A YA Sci-fi Thriller Read online

  “Let’s go,” said X.O., then stepped between Ashley and her father and took her by the hand.

  She couldn’t see her dad past the boys head, but she knew he was about to say something. Next thing the boy knew, he’d been spun around by a strong hand. “You don’t just walk up and kiss my daughter like that,” scolded Mr. Clayton.

  “Don’t touch me,” said X.O. and attempted to yank his arm back.

  “Dad, let go!” said Ashley.

  The man released his grip, and the boy stumbled. “I could have you arrested for that,” he threatened, and flipped his black hair into place.

  “Ashley!” barked her father, pulling the cuffs of his coat in a show of disdain. “I want you outside... and in the car, now!”

  “No!” she said. “You’re acting crazy. I’m going to the locker room, I’m talking to the scouts, and I’m going with X.O.”

  “You heard her,” X.O. quipped, causing the reddened faced man to ball up his fist, which caused the thin DJ to lift his hands in defense.

  “What!” taunted the youth, now on his toes. “You gonna do something?” Shame washed over the preachers face, as his daughter felt forced to step between them.

  “X.O. calm down. You don’t have to fight him,” she said. She placed her hand on his soft face, but he knocked it down and stepped away from her.

  “You know what? Forget both of you!” he said, and began to walk away. Ashley desperately reached out for his hand but her own wrist was caught by her father. “I’m unfriending you,” said the boy. “Don’t call me.”

  “X.O. wait! Please don’t leave!” cried Ashley. But the boy kept walking, now with his phone to his ear. The girl turned and smacked her dad on the chest. “What’s wrong with you!” she said, with tears in her eyes. A few of her friends came to console her, one of them glared at her father, and they left him alone in the middle of the court. The cheering from the crowd had died off completely, and those who remained were leaving the auditorium. He had made a spectacle of himself in front of all of them.

  “Ashley,” he called out, apologetically. But she didn’t respond. Realizing defeat, he slowly walked to the courtside seats and sat down to wait for her. One of the scouts gave him a look of disappointment before joining his competition outside the door to her locker room.

  Bzzzt, bzzzt. Pastor Clayton produced a vibrating phone from his coat pocket. It was his wife. The man exhaled, placed the phone back in his coat, and just let it ring.

  2

  Phone Tag

  Night was settling in, bringing a much-needed chill from the stuffiness of the gym. Jack leaned against his black Dodge Charger under the white lights of the parking lot, with Venus next to him. She covered her phone with her hand. “He’s on his way to the hospital with his dad,” she whispered, before returning to the call. “Aarav? Yeah. I’m at school with Jack. Yeah. We’ll meet you there.”

  Venus had a look of deep concern on her face and Jack instantly hugged her. “It’s gonna be alright,” he whispered, and looked into her eyes reassuringly. Venus nodded, and believed him as if his words were scripture. “Let’s go,” he said, then swung inside the car and reached across to unlock the door for her. A couple of beasty revs from the Charger Daytona’s HEMI and they were racing out the back of the parking lot and headed for the highway.

  A silver Mercedes drove down Hwy 101 toward downtown Santa Rosa. Inside, were Ashley and her father, occupying space in absolute uncomfortable silence. It had been five minutes since they’d left the gym, and the lingering awkwardness between them was like a third passenger sitting on the console.

  “So how’d it go with the scouts?” asked her father.

  “Fine.”

  More silence.

  “What did they say?”

  “What do you care about my life?” snapped Ashley.

  “Oh…” The comment caught him off guard. “I… I care more than you’ll ever know.” The classic cliche only increased the wedge between them. “Ashley, look...” He paused. “Ashley, that boy’s not right for you.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s not up to you to decide who I date!” She knew her sharp tone would increase the tension, but she didn’t care. “Tonight, I helped win the basketball game. You didn’t help. You watched. I’m gonna win on my own, and I’ll make my mistakes on my own too, Dad. And you don’t need to get in the middle of everything. When it comes to boys, I’m gonna win or lose on my own, and it doesn’t matter what you say, and I’m going to try to get X.O. back. I don’t care if you think it's stupid. I still love him, and you wouldn’t understand that.”

  For the second time that night Mr. Clayton’s face turned red. “Oh, I don’t understand love? Ashley, I’ve loved you since before you could even walk. It’s you that don’t understand. I’m trying to protect you. I know boys like that.”

  “Yeah, I heard that before. You used to be just like him when you were in high school.” The cliches were killing her. “You always say that, but you don’t know him. I know what he’s really like. He has dreams, Dad. X.O.’s brilliant, and he’s already more well known than you are.” The man didn’t respond. She continued. “That’s what you want right? To be well known?”

  “Ashley, that’s not why I became a pastor.”

  “Well, when you were our youth leader, you just cared about us. Now you’re all about status… who’s inviting you here, and who asked you to speak wherever, and how’s the church growing. It’s gotten ridiculous.”

  The pastor’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “Ashley, God called me to be a pastor. It’s not as simple as you’re trying to make it… and watch your tongue when you bring up the ministry.”

  She was silent.

  “Ashley, I care about you,” he continued. “I want what’s best for you, and no matter what you think right now, my greatest desire is that we would have a healthy father-daughter relationship.”

  “Oh. So you’re into relationships?” said Ashley. “What about you and Mom?”

  “Ashley, don’t…” warned her father.

  She didn’t care. “You barely talk to each other anymore, and you’re telling me who I should date.”

  “Shut your mouth!” he yelled.

  “No! You’re a hypocrite. I’m done listening to you.”

  Then, like a strike from a snake, Mr. Clayton’s hand was around his daughter’s wrist. “Don’t you talk to me like that!” he fumed, as her eyes widened with hurt, not physical… but much worse. He quickly released her and lifted his eyes, which were now glistening with tears. “I… I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  Ashley ignored him, then yelled, “Dad! Look out!” In his introspection, her father had drifted from their lane.

  Aarav followed the medics as they pushed his father’s gurney through the hospital’s emergency entrance. As they blew past the check-in desk, one of them turned to Aarav and said, “Stay in the waiting room, we’ll take care of him.” They busted through a pair of doors that swung closed behind them, and they were gone. Aarav flew to the check-in desk and immediately gained the attention of the receptionist. “That’s my father,” he pleaded. “I need to go in with him!”

  “Calm down, please,” said the woman behind the glass. “Let me see where they’re taking him.” She glanced down at a log-book on her desk and tapped through the recent entries with the tip of her pen.

  “His name’s Chiranjeev Parekh,” Aarav said.

  The assistant looked up. “Look, I know you’re concerned,” she said, “but why don’t you take a seat in the waiting room and let me find the information.”

  “There’s his name,” Aarav insisted, pointing to the last section on her paper.

  “Okay,” said the woman, who was becoming increasingly perturbed. She read slowly, then responded. “I’m sorry, but you can’t see him now. He’s being prepped for surgery.”

  “Why? What are they doing?” asked Aarav.

  “I don’t have that information. I already told you ever
ything I know, so I’m going to need you to find a seat. What’s your name.”

  “Aarav.”

  “Okay. Aarav,” she whispered, as she wrote. “We’ll call you up to the front when we hear something.” Then, with a practiced smile, the woman motioned to six rows of blue plastic chairs behind him. Aarav turned and wandered toward them with his hand on his head, like the lone survivor from a city bombing. He sat down and placed his face in his hands. Then, tears fell through the cracks in his fingers to the speckled white tile between his shoes. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he exhaled.

  “Arrav!” called a familiar voice from the entrance. Then another voice — a girl’s. Arrav turned in his chair, then stood and realized it was Jack and Venus rushing in to see him.

  “Arrav, buddy,” said Jack, and embraced his friend, while Venus threw an arm around his neck.

  “It’s gonna be alright,” she said, with tears clouding her eyes.

  “I don’t know,” said Aarav.

  “It is, buddy.” Jack placed his hands on Aarav’s shoulders. “You just gotta believe.”

  “Yeah… I… I know.”

  “Let’s pray,” said Venus. She and Jack bowed their heads. “God, please be with Mr. Parekh. We pray that your hand would be upon him and that you would heal him of whatever’s wrong with him. Lord, you know what it is. And be with Aarav. Comfort him, and help him to trust in you right now. In Jesus name, amen.”

  “Thanks,” said Arrav, then exhaled deeply — shuddering as he did. He sat back down and Jack and Venus took the open seats beside him.

  “So, what happened?” asked Jack.

  “I was…” Aarav couldn’t speak.

  “It’s ok. You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No… I’ll tell you. I was helping my father in the laboratory. He needed me to reach for something on the shelf above us. I started to argue with him and walked outside. I was very disrespectful to him Jack. I went back inside to check on him and found him lying on the floor unconscious. He had tried to reach the shelf on his own and, slipped.” Aarav began to weep. “It’s because of me. It’s because I wouldn’t help him.”

  Venus covered her mouth, and glanced at Jack.

  Jack caught eyes with her and could tell she was choked up. “It wasn’t your fault, bud,” he said. “Things happen.” He looked to Venus, but she still couldn’t speak. “Um, God’s in control, buddy,” he assured his friend, although he hadn’t mentioned God’s name outside of church in years.

  “I’m gonna call Ashley again,” said Venus, and withdrew a few steps. “I can’t get reception, I’ll be back,” she said, and found the awning outside, as Jack held the weight of their friend. Venus dialed Ashley’s number, as tiny raindrops began to fall around her. Then, the phone began to ring.

  “Daaaad!” screamed Ashley, as she braced herself against the dashboard. Her father locked up the brakes, and the headlights of the big-rig that was speeding toward them spun away. Its double air horns wail through the sound of screeching tires, as the Clayton’s Mercedes turned in a slow circle on the newly dampened freeway. “Aaaaaaah!” Ashley screamed, hearing the massive semi-truck rush by her window. “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrt,” came a final scream from the Mercedes’ tires, as its momentum ended, and it rocked to a halt.

  “Oh my God,” said Ashley, shaking, with her hands still against the dash. Rain drops patted down on the windows as she watched her dad’s chest heaving next to her. Flushed and wide-eyed, he turned, with his knuckles wrapped tightly to the steering wheel. “Ash,” he said, with regret and relief. “Baby, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, Dad,” she said, and started to cry. Her father tore his gaze away to notice cars passing by. They’d ended up in the median, parallel to the lanes on either side, and without a scratch. Mr. Clayton quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his daughter into his arms. She hugged him and released a flood of emotion from the near-death experience. Unknown to Ashley, she was also dumping a few weeks worth of teenage angst on his shoulder as well.

  “Oh, baby. I’m sorry.” he said, stroking her hair. “I’m sorry… I should be a better father.”

  “It’s okay, Dad,” said Ashley, then suddenly let go, and laid back in her seat. “We almost died,” she said, and noticed her father moving his lips in silent prayer. “Did he hit us?”

  “No. He didn’t.” Her dad smiled and shook his head. “The Lord had his hand on us tonight baby.”

  Ashley noticed her phone ringing. She reached for it and spoke without thinking, “Oh, I hope it’s…”

  “It’s okay,” said her dad. “Whatever… whoever you want to talk to, it’s fine.”

  She checked the number. It wasn’t X.O. “Venus?” she whispered, and took the call. “You’ll never believe what just happened…”

  “Ashley, before you tell me, I got to…”

  “Our car was spinning on the freeway. There was a semi coming and we almost died.”

  “Oh my goodness! Are you alright? Is your dad alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah… we’re fine. It was just so crazy. I mean the truck went right by my window. I can’t believe we didn’t get hit.” Ashley paused. “Who are you with?”

  “I’m with Jack and Aarav. We’re at the hospital.”

  “The hospital? What happened?”

  “Aarav and his dad were working on something, and Chirangeev slipped and hit his head... and he hasn’t woken up yet. It’s been over a half an hour.”

  “Oh, no...” Ashley let the phone fall from her ear. “What is going on!” she exclaimed, in a burst of emotion.

  “Is everything alright?” asked her dad.

  Ashley shook her head and held up a finger. “How’s Aarav?” she asked.

  “He’s not doin' too good. Jack’s with him now.”

  “Hold on for a second.” Ashley, muted her phone. “Can we go to the hospital?” she asked. “Aarav’s dad got hurt.”

  Her father glanced down at his watch. “Yeah, we can go.”

  “We’ll be there in a minute,” said Ashley, but the line was silent.

  “Sorry, my mom texted me,” said Venus. “One word; ‘homework’.”

  “That’s a common theme,” said Ashley. “Anyway, we’re coming.”

  “Alright, we’re in the E.R.”

  “K.”

  Ashley’s dad put his hand on the key and put the car in gear, then shot his daughter a corny look, and said, “Let’s see if this thing starts.”

  Jeff Edens walked into the meeting room ahead of schedule just to get the center seat at the table. He checked each side of his short blonde hair in the reflection from the flat screen monitor at the table’s end. Then, after adjusting the collar of his fitted blue sport coat, he reached down to the man-bag beside his high-top shoes, withdrew a manila folder, and placed it on the table in front of him.

  Jeff glanced down at his smartwatch. It was a text from his work partner. “I’m not gonna make the meeting. I got my departure time mixed up. At the airport now. Don’t tell them anything important. I’ll be back from Cancun in three weeks. I’ll bring you a bottle of Cuervo.”

  The thirty-year-old smiled, leaned back, and waited for the room to fill up. Men in business attire eventually filed in and occupied the remaining chairs. They were all scientists and engineers, except for one man from finance. On each of their I.D. cards was their photo, their name, their job title, and the name of their employer; Cybercorp.

  “I wish I could say good morning, but the fact is it’s not good,” said Ryan Jacobs, an engineer that also happened to be their project manager. “We are all behind schedule.” He clicked the keys on his laptop and brought up a timeline on the monitor at the end of the table. “This is where we should be.” He pointed to a line at the far right, “and this is where we are,” he said, and pointed to somewhere in the middle. “We’ve got the jump on our competitors, we’ve got the funding, but we don’t have the product…. and our investors want answers!”

  Jeff inched his fingers forward and slowly slid out
the top piece of paper from the folder he’d brought. He pushed it further into view and lazily raised his hand.

  “Just a minute, Jeff,” huffed Ryan. Jeff lowered his hand. “We gave each of you the time and money you asked for,” barked Ryan, “and we have nothing. We’re supposed to be in clinical trials, damn it!”

  Jeff started to raise his hand again.

  “Jeff, what is it?” asked Ryan, looking like a pot about to boil over.

  “We’re like more over there,” said Jeff.

  “What do you mean, more over there?”

  “More over there. By that line on the right.” Jeff wiggled his finger instead of pointing.

  Ryan Jacobs leaned forward and loosened his collar. “Are you trying in your stupid way, to tell me that you’ve developed a prototype over three months ahead of the rest of us?”

  “Um, multiple prototypes, sir.”

  Ryan Jacobs seethed with anger, but composed himself before speaking. “When… when can I see them?”

  “Well, my partner’s in Cancun,” said Jeff, unapologetically. “He’ll be back in three weeks.”

  “Three weeks,” repeated Ryan, and began to boil again.

  “How large is your R&D team?” asked a slate-faced scientist by the name of Winston Gooley, who’d partially raised up from his chair. “We are at the limit of our budget with a team of only eight.”

  Another one of the scientists chimed in. “We need two questions answered here. One: how large is your team, and two: where did you get your additional funding. You’re obviously not telling us something.”

  “Woah,” said Jeff, “I’ve got all the numbers right here.” He passed the paper in front of him to the left. “And as far as our research and development team… well, it’s a family run lab.”

  “Family run?” said Ryan, interested, but unamused by what was unfolding.

  “How many?” demanded Gooley.