The Cuckoo's Progeny - Cover

The Cuckoo's Progeny

Copyright© 2014 Vincent Berg. All rights reserved.

01: Unfamiliar Terrain

Al Collins stared out the window at the clouds floating by, tapping his fingers against the table. He didn’t know why, but he’d been unable to concentrate all day. His mind felt clear, but preoccupied. Every time he tried to focus, he’d start fidgeting. Sighing, he turned back to his studies.

Sitting at the kitchen table, he studied the latest issue of American Journal of Physics. A college sophomore on summer break, his interest in science developed while taking the required classes for various majors: Calculus, Statistics and Introduction to Physics. There was something about the sciences which fascinated him and he’d declared his major in Physics soon after. He wasn’t terrific at the math, but loved learning how things in the universe functioned. Fascinated by the concepts, he decided on a career in the sciences but not on a specific concentration within his major. His sister, just graduated from high school, planned to attend the same university in the fall.

Trying to unravel the math, a wave of concern washed over him. It swept away his fleeting concentration like a tsunami, leaving the debris of confusion and bewilderment behind. Somehow, he sensed Be, his sister, was facing extreme danger. Understanding it wasn’t logical, he knocked on the table for good luck. He tried ignoring it, yet no matter what he did, he couldn’t rid himself of the sense of impending doom washing over him.

He glanced upstairs. “Mom, do you know where Be is?”

It took her a second to respond, walking through the back sliding-glass door, surprising him. “No. I wanted her to help me plant the new bulbs, but haven’t seen her all day. By the way, why can’t you call her by her name? ‘Be’ seems ... disrespectful.”

“Damn, where is that girl?” Al pushed his books aside, taking out his phone and dialing her number. “It’s a private name I only use at home.” He heard her distinctive ring-tone coming from the couch in muffled confirmation of her absence. Growling, he leaned back and closed his eyes. His fears might only be paranoia, but he wouldn’t know unless they didn’t pan out.

“Using such names is not appropriate. It’s childish and belittling.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, she doesn’t object. When she complains, I’ll stop.”

Completely out of the blue, Al was there. He was in the Great Platts Industrial district—an area he drove past but tried to avoid on his way to school—and he saw his sister Be scurrying between the abandoned buildings with two shadowy figures following her. Al could see the worry in her actions, the way she kept glancing behind, as well as the intent of the two men, by the way they kept joking about the fear they were causing. Great Platts had fallen into disrepair and was now the neutral turf between two gangs: neutral meaning they attacked all who entered as they sought undisputed control of the area.

The scene was so vivid it appeared more real than reality. Whereas things appeared mundane and typical in real life, here everything jumped out at him. The tattoos, gang colors on their jackets and their hand gestures suggesting what they’d do once they caught her, the many places she could potentially hide and the dangers she faced if she chose the wrong spot—all stood out in sharp focus. Despite understanding he was still home, still conscious of what was happening around him, he felt close enough to Be in this new reality that he raised his hand to call out to her. But, as he did, he was back with his mother, suddenly feeling self-conscious reaching out to someone who wasn’t there.

He glanced back at mom at see if she’d noticed, but she was still berating him for how he treated his sister. Realizing his sister’s life was in danger, Al leapt to his feet, heading for the door. “If you hear from her, call me. Hopefully I’m wrong, but I can’t risk it!”

His mother’s mouth hung open at this strange declaration, before deciding to search Betty’s room for clues to where she might be. Without knowing Al’s concerns, she didn’t have much to go on.


Dusk’s long shadows disguised surfaces, providing cover for those with malicious intent. Betty glanced behind her. The intermittent streetlights poorly illuminating concrete walls mottled with age, flaking plaster marring the graffiti painted across every exposed surface made it difficult to spot anyone. She knew the area was a bad neighborhood, with few residents and scores of abandoned buildings, but didn’t think she had a choice. She’d hoped to cross it before encountering trouble, but wasn’t so lucky. Now she had two intimidating men tailing her, each wearing their gang colors, with no safe refuge in sight. The setting sun cast the entire street in eerie shadows.

Betty swallowed, clenching and unclenching her fists and trying to hurry without showing fear. She was relieved to be nearing an intersection where she could hopefully find help, but she doubted it. There were few residents or open businesses in this blighted area, and no refuge from those following her.

Reaching the corner, a figure stepped around the corner, surprising her. She gasped, clutching her chest and falling back.

“Relax!” he said. “Come on. We can’t afford to waste time. We need to move before it’s too late.”

“Al? Where the hell did you come from? How did you know where to find me?”

He took her elbow, leading her across the intersection. “Do you want to talk, or get out of here?”

“I’ll vote with my feet, but I still want to know.”

They walked at his faster pace. He seemed to be casually strolling, but she was forced to trot to keep up. Approaching a dark alley, he steered her down it. Betty wrinkled her nose, reacting to the stale scent of urine, chemicals and rotting refuse. Given the lack of light, it was difficult to make out what lay ahead, but she didn’t see an exit.

“We’ll be trapped.”

“Don’t worry,” Al said, breaking into a run. He hurried her past two doors, stopping at the third and reaching for a door handle.

“It’ll never—” The door opened without any complaints. He pushed her though, pulling it shut behind them and throwing the lock before looking for something to block the door.

“How did you know the door would be open? Have you been here before?”

“Never even been in this area,” he said. “I don’t know one street from another.”

“Then how did you... ?”

Bracing a heavy metal slab against the door, he grabbed her elbow and rushed her across the room and into the connecting hallway. “Don’t speak,” he whispered. “They won’t know where we went, but might hear our voices.”

Unable to forestall her curiosity, Betty started to protest when they heard the metal door rattling, echoing down the empty passageway.

“Where the hell did they go?” a faint voice shouted. Al raised his finger to his lips as they hurried on.

“I don’t know any more than you do,” yelled a closer voice. “Try busting down the doors. They’ve got to...” The rest of the conversation was lost as distance intervened.

Her brother directed her into a stairwell. She glanced skeptically at him. Without answering, he motioned her up. With the sounds of the two gang members hunting them, she didn’t argue. However, she had no clue why they weren’t searching for a way out.

They kept ascending. Betty would hesitate on each floor, and Al would nudge her to continue. She soon became winded. She’d been walking all day. Still, he kept pushing. On the eleventh floor, panting, she turned on him, whispering in an angry voice.

“Where are we going? If we remain ... in the building, we won’t escape.”

Recognizing she was worn out, he paused, allowing her to catch her breath. “We’d never get away taking that approach. Once they figure out we entered the factory, it wouldn’t take long to cover the exits. This is our only option.”

“But what’s your plan? Wait them out? Hope they get bored? And why would they care about us so much? What makes you think they won’t just leave now that an easy target has slipped away?” Her eyes roamed the dilapidated structure through the scratched door. “If we can’t get out, what’s to stop them from searching floor by floor?”

He held his hand up, silencing her as he listened. Hearing nothing, he continued.

“They won’t stop. They’re out for blood. I’m guessing they’re looking to use us as a warning to others. They’ll follow us, and after they rob us, they’ll slit our throats. We either continue upstairs, or die.”

“How do you—” She waved her hands, abandoning her line of thought. “All the more reason to find a way out!”

He pushed her onwards again. “Just keep going,” he insisted.

They continued up until reaching a door wedged in place. He moved her aside, and slammed it with his shoulder while holding his hands against the metal to diminish the sound. The door popped open, revealing the roof.

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