Hypergeniture Bk. 01 Pt. 01

Listening, I felt warm and ashamed, and I hit myself... Slapped myself.

My cousin had been desperate to reach me.

I wasn't there for her.

I was with someone else — someone I didn't even know.

Suddenly, that nausea from before was back, along with unbearable pain in my gut. I felt like I'd cheated. I felt like a fraud at life and love. My first instinct was to place my hand on my chest as I felt my heart crumble to dust.

I remembered Alicia... Alicia at Downing Street... I wasn't going to force anything. That was her advice. No, I would take a breath. One breath and then another.

"You don't get panic attacks," I told myself. "You don't do that..."

As I regained my composure, with my head hanging forward and all the blood in my body draining to my feet, I shook myself.

"Fuck't. I don't have any regrets, right?" I asked out loud. "You considered it carefully, Oliver... You had a strategy... Right?"

I was at risk of starting an argument with myself — one with words and shouting and perhaps even the throwing of furniture. I had to make a plan because that's what I did: I made plans. All I could do was phone Natasha and try to explain...

The line crackled. It was a poor connection with a bit of an echo.

"Olly?"

"Hey, Tash. I'm so sorry I missed you."

"They wouldn't tell me where you were."

I closed my eyes. "I was... Business meetings until late. It turns out everybody wants a piece of me."

"Oh. Okay... Well, I'm glad you don't hate me," my cousin confessed.

"Of course, I don't hate you... I want to be friends again. I want to be more than friends, maybe."

"Only if we can be honest—"

"We can be honest," I insisted.

"Then be honest... Where were you last night, really?"

I felt a headache take root. It was like a lasso cast over me that tightened as I struggled to pick my words.

I'd fucked up.

The night before, I thought I was a big man with big money. Someone immune from sentiment who could just do whatever the hell he wanted. That wasn't me... I was feeling low.

Real.

Low.

Buttressing myself against the desk in the room, I reached for the Welsh girl's pen. It had been there for days, untouched. The act of clicking and clicking and clicking the little mechanism soothed me. I knew what I had to do would be hard, but I had to do it anyway.

One way or another, I wanted to fight for Natasha. I would fight for Natasha. For my cousin and my friend.

"Tash, can we meet tonight?"

I heard a sharp noise on the other side of the line. My cousin swallowed down emotion, but I couldn't see her face to figure out what. "Okay, Olly... We can meet at that jazz club; on neutral ground. Should I make a time with your security lady — what's her name?"

"Alicia? No, we can do it ourselves. So, we meet at Laverna, after your shift?" I offered.

Tash agreed to the plan, giving me a real sense of relief. Looking at the pen in my hand, I realised we would have a second chance. We'd go back to where this all started, and we'd do things on our terms. Life was too short to hang onto regrets and ends too soon to waste a moment you could spend living. Going downstairs, I arranged for the car. Isabelle was taking out the rubbish when I found her.

I realised Sian's pen was still in my hand, and I realised I didn't really want to hang on to it. I could be the master of my own destiny. "Open the bag for me," I asked, and Isabelle complied.

When I tossed the silver pen in, we both smiled.

Now, it was between me and my cousin — two best friends who could make it work.

13 • Night Shift

At about eight, I took my seat in the Maybach, and we made our way to Laverna. Unlike the night before, I kept my phone close so that I wouldn't miss another call or message.

Surprisingly, there was a call, but not from whom I expected.

"Mom?" I answered.

"Olly... I'm so sorry about our last conversation."

My mother said that sort of thing a lot. I always accepted her apologies. "You must have so many questions... Be in so much shock," she continued.

I felt nurtured. "Yeah. It's all been overwhelming, and I've only gone and made things difficult for myself. I don't blame you for anything... There was no reason for me to know, I guess."

"You did earn everything you got, son. Wharry influenced things in your favour, but you are gifted."

My nose started doing my breathing — a feeling of simultaneous stress and relief. After a few more minutes on the phone with my mother, I was close to repairing everything. The call ended, and I put my phone away, took a deep breath, and felt good about seeing Natasha soon.

We pulled up down the block from the club in a vacant part of the street that seemed to repel pedestrians.

"Why are we stopping here?"

Alicia explained, "There's a club on this side of the street, linked to the jazz place by a service corridor. It's a safer way."

I conceded to the plan, and we made our way through a commercial door in a nearby alley. The security men from the other car joined, along with two bouncers. One was from Laverna, and one was from the dance club we passed through.

The route we took was sterile, white, grey, and brightly lit. Its walls vibrated with the hectic electronic music that pumped on their other side.

"Shit. It sounds busy for a Thursday," I remarked.

The one bouncer looked over his shoulder. "There's a street festival going on," he explained with a deep, bellowing voice. "The City wants to prolong the Christmas vibes deep into January."

After walking for what seemed like ages, we finally arrived at a set of fire doors that led to Laverna's main floor. We were a few minutes late, so I expected to see Tash waiting.

There was no sign of her.

A beautiful girl with a giant afro had joined the band from the other night. She was singing the Commodores, swaying her hips. The kid-drummer making it all sound even better thanks to his talent and gang of instrumentalists.

The vibe was great but seemed to have been poisoned by my shattered expectations. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and swiped my way to my cousin's number. It rang and rang and rang... I called again and again, and again there was no answer.

The jazz joint was sparsely populated compared to the dance club next door. There were only a few patrons, and all their eyes were at least casually glancing at my massive entourage.

I turned to Alicia. "You've got people watching my cousin. Where is she?"

My baby-faced protector reached for her phone and made a call. Once she was done, I knew it would be bad news...

"She hasn't left her apartment, sir."

I nodded, trying to swallow down my disappointment. Tash had gotten cold feet. Again.

"Alright, let's go."

My bodyguards tightened their circle around me, and we re-entered the corridor that had led us to the club. That feeling of nausea I so often experienced returned worse than ever before. I found myself stopping as we were about halfway to the car. I bent forward a little, putting my hands on my knees as I tried to rescue my constitution.

The doof-doof of the music next door was equal parts infuriating and alluring. Through all my troubles, I'd always run to music. But this wasn't the beautiful chaos of jazz — it was the science of electronica, techno, trap...

"I need a bathroom."

Alicia dropped into a squat to meet me. "Sir, we need to get out of here as soon as possible."

Looking up into my protector's eyes, my expression convinced her that I wasn't well. "Okay," she accepted, "where's the nearest private bathroom?"

One of the bouncers piped up, "There's one on the other side of the EDM club. We'd have to cross the dance-floor."

With a squeeze of my shoulder, my bodyguard had me standing upright, and we made our way through a large service door. This led to a packed mass of human bodies that moved to the hum of ghastly music. Without the dancers swaying their bodies, there would be no rhythm. All that would exist was a beat. A bang, bang, bang.

We embedded ourselves in the crush of bodies, and I tried to find order in the chaos. Like the pedestrians of London, you could fix your eyes and soothe yourself as you settled into the pattern of the crowd. These weren't people; they were waves curling up and straightening as the masses moved and washed over the room.

My nausea wasn't helped by the motions — up and down — and the strobe light that flickered in staccato rhythm. Yet, there was a strange harmony to it all. Then, harmony was broken as one body failed to move in concert with the rest. It was heading straight toward us with its shoulders hunched forward.

Out of reflex, I turned away. A face filled with hatred had gotten within mere inches to my left.

Adrenaline spiked.

I was in danger.

My fist lashed out at the wicked face and spit flew as I made contact with his cheek. I turned to the first body, flinching as I saw a metal object swinging my way. It was like the loud boom of the music stopped. Then, a clatter erupted. Ungodly and unnatural.

Alicia stuck a taser in the first attacker's neck. Its blue sparks bright even under the blunting light of the strobe.

Six hands were wrestling to control my body as security tried to drag me out of harm's way. The second attacker was back on his feet and tried to tackle me. One of the bouncers got in his way, and they crashed to the ground with cries of agony!

The surrounding bodies began spreading away, then hitting a wall of other bodies. Bodies that didn't have the time or sense to react. It was like we were in the middle of an ocean caving in on itself. There was screaming as a stampede of hysteria ignited among the dancers!

Then came a third attacker. Fast and ferocious. I lashed out again.

Fist after fist struck his body as we tried to keep him at bay. He was high on something because he didn't feel the pain.

Two arms locked underneath my shoulders as I got pulled back to the door. Everyone was shouting — trying to organise our escape. The attackers had managed to follow, but they couldn't get through the wall of security between them and me.

As Alicia gripped the one's shoulder and surely dislocated it, she screamed for the others to get me out of there. I wanted to stay. I didn't want to leave her behind! But, it seemed I wasn't going to get a say in the matter.

For the next moments, my feet didn't touch the ground as security ran me down the length of the hall. Bursting through the doors to the outside world, we found chaos. The stampede had spilt onto the street as people rushed to escape the violence.

The Maybach was surrounded — unable to move — but the Range Rover pushed through the crowd, honking and revving of its V8 engine. It pulled up right in front of us and I saw Isabelle run past and towards the violence. "Get him in the fucking car!" she shouted. Then...

Bang. Bang. Bang.

As I was launched into the SUV, we pulled away with a loud screech and I swear I heard bodies rebound off the car as we sped through the stampede. My ears were ringing, and everyone was still shouting.

I couldn't make sense of all the noises.

I was dazed.

"Where's Alicia?! Where's Isabelle?! Go back!! Go back, or you're— Or— What the fuck...?" I looked down, and I could suddenly hear what the security men were yelling at each other.

"Hospital!"

They were yelling, 'hospital.'

"Get to the nearest fucking hospital!"

I was covered in blood. My hands were sticky and wet. My vision faded with each beat of light that pulsed into the car from the buildings on either side of the road.

Each pulse was dimmer than the last until, finally, there was only black.