Unstoppable: Revitalized

-52- (Bonus)

"Yes. Yes you are."

The words felt hollow as they left my lips, Adam's body falling limp for what would now be the final time. I waited for some sort of movement, a ripple under the skin, his body to start to re-form, praying he was lying, but nothing. I stood there, looking for any signs we'd written down, but nothing. He was now truly useless: A true corpse, a husk that once housed the most powerful monster man has ever contrived, now reduced to a flesh bag, leaking blood and fluids on his floor. Sighing, I took my phone out, dialling the number id remembered by heart at this point, putting it to my ear.

"Dale Narrel, 0132, patch me."

The silence lasted a few moments, until the voice I really didn't want to hear picked up, heavy breathing telling me someone else had already informed him.

"So?"

"Project unsuccessful."

"Unsuccessful? Fucking unsuccessful? What the fuck do you mean-"

"Just, let me talk, for fuck's sake. The mutant itself is still out there. It's just-"

"Just what, Dale? Managed to learn how to live without help? Grown legs and ran? What?"

"It's.. It's switched bodies."

"Sorry, what?"

"Smith, It's switched bodies."

"That isn't possible. It can't be. His DNA-"

"I'm staring at Adam now. His head is no longer connected to him, it's in pieces on the floor. I'm telling you Smith, the creature has switched bodies."

"And there's no signs of regeneration?"

I took a look at the blood slowly pooling from the top of his head, spreading to the corners of the room, attempting to take the room over, before answering.

"No. None. Someone else took it."

"To who? Who on earth would take that from him?"

"Subject three, Sir. Poppy Browning. He told me himself."

"She's supposed to be dead, Dale. Why the fuck is she still breathing?"

"Don't. Don't even start. I'll fix this, but just in case I don't, I want you to put out a worldwide notice: Poppy brought back to us, alive and well."

There was a minute of silence as I heard keys clacking furiously against a computer, a frustrated sigh passing through the phone.

"Dale, she's boarded a plane. Her passport was recently scanned and checked. For fucks sake. You had ONE job!"

"I know. I didn't expect a fucking child to be so damn resourceful. Look, I'll fix it, but just in case I don't-"

"If you don't, I'll have your head mounted to the front of my fucking door. I'll send the message out, but so help me god..."

I hung up. There was no point in grovelling to him: It would only dig my hole deeper, and I was already neck deep in water. I adjusted my shirt, tucked my shotgun back into it's hidden holster of my coat, and took a long look at my wasted work, almost expecting the kid to jump up, a delayed reaction of some form. All that I found in return was a lifeless corpse, one I wished still held something.

I didn't have to kill him. I'll have a crew return, swab the place, take the body back. Maybe there's something left in him.

I suddenly stepped back, nervous of the blood more than anything as I watched it gain ground.

It's a bastard to get out of shoes.

Shutting the door felt alien as I moved towards the front vehicle, entering the passenger seat and tapping the dash nervously.

"Empty handed... No such luck, sir?" Simon asked, the concierge I'd been using for the last twenty years. He'd been informed and taught how the world worked from a young age, and learned to adapt as such. He'd never been one to shy away from pointing out the obvious. I pushed the question aside, keeping my eyes fixed on the empty driveway, my mind racing with possibilities of destinations.

"The airport, Simon, if you'd please."

"Of course, sir."

He shifted the car into reverse as I called the top man of the current operation, barking a few orders and telling them all to return to base. Soon enough, it was just us, still in the drive.

"I didn't want this. The kid didn't have to die. Sure, he was fucked up, but we put his back to the wall. We gave him so many chances, and yet he still pushed back, so why do I feel so bad about this one?"

Simon ran his hands along the wheel, deep in thought, before answering, keeping his head straight.

"Is a hungry dog suddenly forgiven if it kills to eat? An animal that weeps over it's own kill is no better than an animal that doesn't. Guilt doesn't purify you, sir, actions do. Once we produce this, we could solve every problem. Guide every decision, with little to no resistance. Our ends justify our means."

I sighed, my breath rattling showing my age more than I'd like.

"Let's get moving. This place is nothing more than a memory."

Simon obliged, looking behind us as we pulled out, driving steadily sot wards the airport.

"It's a shame about his parents, if I may?"

"It is. Good people. The car accident... It would mess up a child. I just can't understand how we got the paperwork sorted for that."

"The government is a business, sir, just like everyone else. And ours is the most corrupt. A few thousand Kimins and a threat was more than enough for the social carer to sign everything. Words hold weight, after all."

"They certainly do Simon."

"Besides, what sort of parents offer up their flesh and blood as an experiment? If you ask me, sir, I'd argue that in this case, the accident was justified. Evil people get their comeuppance, just as we all will one day."

"I hope we achieve what we need to before this. This can't all be for nothing."

I leaned to look out the window, noticing how barren the area was as we sped up, the lights of the traffic control tower blinking, inviting us to follow whatever lead we had. I pulled a photo out of the young couple, the same one I'd kept for sixteen years. Both of them looked happy, holding a child they'd never get to see grow up. I admired it, reflecting on an easier and more innocent part of my life, before winding down the window, letting the wind whisk it away towards the heavens. My chest didn't loosen, but my brain did, clearing ever so slightly.

The last piece of history destroyed. It makes no sense to hold onto dead memories.