Chapter 11—An Enticing Offer
“How did you know where I lived?” Mark asked.
“It was simple, really,” Rooke said, pausing for a moment to stare at the pile of assorted objects on Mark’s bed. “We looked at the visitor roster and the security footage at the storage room. After that, Heather paid a visit to your school to find your address. She can be very persuasive, as you’ve already seen.”
Mark gulped. He suspected what this was leading to. They were going to punish him. “If this is about the accident, I was only trying to stop them! Lydia and Dariela! They—”
“Markus, relax,” Rooke said, on the verge of a laugh. “I understand it was just an accident. No harm done. Although I did hear some interesting things about you and Lydia.” He bent over a little and wrapped an arm around Mark’s shoulder. “Something about you two getting into a fight.”
Mark bristled at the memory. Everyone had laughed at him when he was knocked down flat by Lydia. For the rest of that day, he’d avoided everyone and their jeering. “Yeah.”
“What caught my attention the most was how you withstood it,” Rooke continued. Mark’s head whipped up. Hardly anyone had paid attention to that. “Why, I would say it looks like you weren’t even punched.” Rooke eyed the sharp items on the bed and leaned in closer. “You wouldn’t happen to have been trying to stab yourself with those, would you?” Mark didn’t reply. “Would you mind giving us a sample?”
He couldn’t answer. Mark didn’t want anyone to know about his improvised tests. Someone might deem it too dangerous or call him a freak. How could he trust this man? He’d only just met Rooke and had no clue about his real intentions. Why would anyone want to know about his tests unless they were planning to use that information to hold over him somehow? Instead, he shuffled his feet and fumbled with his words. “Uh, no, I was. .. er, I mean. ..”
Rooke caught on to his unwillingness to share. “Oh, I almost forgot to introduce my other companion,” Rooke said, holding his hand to his head and changing the subject. He directed Mark’s attention to the giant of a man, standing in the corner. “This is Finster, one of my. .. employees.” Mark wondered about the pause before “employees.” Finster chuckled in a knowing manner. It eluded Mark, as if he were missing some joke.
“Mark. Do you mind if I call you Mark?” Rooke asked. The boy shook his head and Rooke continued. “As I said, I’ve come to have a chat with you.” He grabbed a chair for himself and pointed to the bed. Mark sat. “It’s late and I’m sure I’m keeping you from dinner and your homework, so I’ll get straight to the point. I’d like to make you an offer.”
“An offer?”
“Yes. A job so to speak, working directly for me. You see, this remarkable gift of yours has the potential for great things. I could use someone like you.”
Mark was already on the edge of his bed, hanging onto every word. This was too good to be true and he knew it. But he listened closely in the faint hope that maybe it was real.
“I pay well. Just ask Finster,” he said, grinning broadly.
“What would I be doing?” Mark asked.
“Mainly acting as a kind of assistant. You would be one of my valuable employees,” Rooke said. “We’ll give you your own living quarters, in one of my buildings downtown. A high-rise or a penthouse, perhaps? You’ll be expected to keep up with school,” he said, waggling a playful finger, “but we could arrange a private tutor for that.”
Now Mark knew it couldn’t be true. This was another one of his dreams, minus the total disconnect with reality and logic. Or a very, very cruel prank. No, there was something else to all of this and Mark was intent in finding out what it was. “Why me?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back. “Why do you want to hire me? I’m still in high school after all.”
“Cautious,” Rooke mused. “That’s a good attribute to have. I want to hire you because you’re an extraordinary person. I seek out people like you and offer them this deal.”
“People like me?” Now Mark was confused. This guy wasn’t making any sense whatsoever. There was no one like him. Only he and Lydia had these strange characteristics. The two of them were anomalies—genetically mutated freaks.
“Perhaps a demonstration would help?” Rooke turned to Finster and nodded. The large man fiddled with a gadget attached to his hip. It beeped several times and he relaxed.
At first, nothing happened. Mark was sure these people were insane. Then Finster’s legs trembled severely. The bones of his thighs began to protrude beneath his pants, as if yearning to break free. Instead, they twisted and stretched Finster’s legs. Before Mark’s eyes, the legs shrank in size. The masses inched along toward Finster’s arms. His already lengthy limbs stretched an extra foot or two. He smiled at Mark’s gaping mouth. “I can reverse it, too,” he said, standing proudly.
“Did that make it happen?” Mark asked, pointing to the black gadget clipped to Finster’s pants.
“No. You see, Finster had an incident as well when he was younger,” Rooke explained. “As a result, he was left with extra bones in his body that he could manipulate and slide into his arms and legs. But it was excruciatingly painful whenever he did so. Thus I created a medication, essentially nullifying any harmful side effects of his change. Think of ramped-up morphine that doesn’t dull the senses. He needs to replace it regularly, but it does help.”
“Mostly,” Finster said as he rolled up his sleeve, revealing snaking transparent tubes taped to his skin and injected along his arm. “There are lingering aches long after I’ve run out.” He shivered as he said it. He lifted one pant leg, showing the same tubes coiling their way around his hairy shin and thigh. The liquid flowed through the tubes, injecting the drug rapidly into him. Although still visible, the tubes were set deep into the flesh, as if they wouldn’t be easily removed. Mark assumed they must be inside Finster constantly.
“You’re not alone. There are others and you have friends in us and them, whether you know it or not.” Rooke picked up the fork Mark had jammed into himself earlier. “My, my,” he said, marveling at it and at the collection of tested objects on Mark’s bed. “And not one injury?” Mark shook his head, feeling a little proud of himself when Rooke smiled, seemingly amazed by the feat. “Would you mind showing me?” he asked. When Mark didn’t answer, the man leveled his eyes at him. “Come now, Mark. We’ve confided our secret to you. Can’t you trust us and do the same?”
They had done that. Especially Finster, who had probably been shunned for displaying his ability in public because of its grotesqueness. Mark felt at ease when he looked at Finster. These people knew what he was going through. They had been upfront with him and were prepared to offer him something great. He couldn’t let such an opportunity pass him by. He snatched up a pocket knife on his nightstand he’d planned to test. He had found it buried in his father’s desk. As good a time as any to try. Mark flipped it open, and dragged the blade deep across his skin with little hesitation. Not an ounce of blood emerged. When he finished, there was no laceration or any sign that he’d performed such a dangerous action.
Rooke held Mark’s arm close to his eyes, searching it. “Outstanding,” he whispered. “You, too.”
“What?” Mark asked.
He jerked his head up and let go of the arm. “Sorry. I mean you—you really can do it. How long have you known?”
“Since a couple of days ago,” Mark said. It had started with finding out that even a paper cut didn’t hurt. Then after Lydia had socked him, he discovered no injuries. He’d been as fine as if she’d never hit him. Since then, he’d been experimenting with what he could resist. He progressively increased the inflicted pain every time, but he had had to build up the courage to do so.
Rooke flipped his arm over and examined every inch of it, searching for something that he couldn’t find. After going over the skin thoroughly, he gave up and dropped the arm. “You haven’t happened to have any bouts of increased strength, have you?”
“Suc
h as?”
“Breaking walls, bending metal, lifting heavy objects,” Rooke said, ticking off the examples. “Or perhaps punching someone like Lydia did?”
“No.” At this, Mark caught the man’s slight frown. This was instantly replaced with a bright smile. “You’re special, Mark,” Rooke said, slapping his knee. “You are one of a kind, being able to withstand something like that. You’re like Finster: unique. That is why I found him, helped him, and showed him his potential. Showed him what he was capable of. Same with Heather and some others.” Rooke leaned in.
He had Mark’s full attention, though Mark was no longer concerned about appearances. He wanted to know more. He wanted to attain his own full potential, too.
“I can see you want the same,” Rooke said, confirming what Mark was thinking. “And I want to help you.”
“Yes,” Mark said, nodding slowly.
“Well, you’re halfway there. You already have the ability. You simply need to learn how to utilize it, and the chance to experience your limits. I can help you if you trust me. Do you?”
Mark wasn’t fully convinced, but he said, “Yes,” all the same. Rooke cocked his head at Finster. The too-tall man lifted Mark up by his throat. The boy fought back and tugged at the massive hands holding him, but it was all for nothing. Finster threw Mark hard and face-first into the wall.
Mark was back on his feet in a second, snarling at Finster and diving for him. “What did you do that for?”
“It was an experiment,” Rooke said, holding Mark back. “Look at the wall.”
Mark did so and saw a deep imprint the size of his own head. It looked like someone had smashed a bowling ball into his sky-blue wall. Mark rubbed his forehead and cheeks, finding no blood and no sore spots. Cracked chips fell away from the dent and Rooke patted his shoulder. “I knew you’d be fine. I was curious if you did indeed get the same super strength that Lydia received. Not that I didn’t believe you, but I thought it might be dormant and needed the right stimulus. I was wrong and I apologize for that. But I trusted that you would—and could—resist it. I believed in you. You still trust me, too, right?” he asked. “That is the glue that holds us all together, especially in a world that would deem someone like you an outcast. But you are more than they are. They’re jealous.”
Jealous? Mark liked the sound of that. The envy of those all around who could no longer physically hurt him was enticing.
“See, not many people can stand up to Finster on a good day. But you.” Rooke turned Mark around. “You took it without so much as a scratch. You have the power to stand up to anything, to resist anything. You can be great! I can help you achieve that greatness you want and deserve!”
Mark felt his face grow warm with pride, like his mother had just praised him for passing a school exam.
Heather chose that moment to poke her head into the room. She tugged at her scarf, but Mark saw the slightest hint of a protrusion under it, like she’d swallowed a golf ball. It was pushing her head up higher like before. “He’s coming out of it,” she announced.
“Fine,” Rooke said. “Buy us what time you can. We’ll be out in a few minutes.” She left the room and he turned back to Mark. “You don’t have to answer now, but I would like you to think about my offer.”
Mark, however, was already prepared to give an emphatic yes. He was afraid that if these people—these people who understood him and had laid such a generous deal on the table—were to leave, then he’d find it all to be some elaborate hallucination. “I want—”
“Not now,” Rooke said, repeating himself. “We’ll be back in the morning, so you can give me your answer, then. We need to finalize some things anyway, or else people will ask questions about why you’re not in school, where you’ve gone, et cetera. There is one more thing I need to tell you,” he said.
“What?”
“There is a group that claims they are government officials. They’ll be searching for you, using this ruse to acquire help from police and from many others,” Rooke said, his face growing dark. “They’re likely on our heels. They already took your fellow classmate Lydia off to who knows where, and they’ll likely do the same with you.”
That sent a chill through Mark’s spine. However, he tried to be brave and not let it show.
“They’ll come and try to whisk you away so they can ‘help.’ However, they won’t let you leave. Some poor souls are even brainwashed into working for them.” He grabbed Mark’s arms, squeezing hard. “Above all else, you must avoid them. Alright?”
“Alright,” Mark said, feeling his mouth droop open.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can. We’ll get things situated in case you decide to work for me.” With that, Rooke rose to his feet and the pair left. A minute later, Mark heard the front door open and close, and he was alone with his thoughts.
The whole visit had been a lot to process, and he wasn’t sure what to think. But what Rooke had said about the imposters prompted him to run to the front door and lock it. He knew he was caught up in something larger than he’d ever known, yet he felt happy. Things were looking up, and he wasn’t alone in this endeavor. Soon all fears of any fake government officials paying a visit were pushed to the back of his mind in favor of fantasizing about the benefits and life he’d soon live when he was adored and celebrated by all for his talent. Yet he did keep a vigilant watch the rest of the day, staring out his window for any unexpected visitors.