Dara Hickley took a taste of wine and reflected on the unexpected week she'd had. Because of a harmless prank by two little boys, she had met an intelligent, handsome man who seemed just as attracted by her.
Just over a week had passed since her evening with noted scientist Mitchell Cartwright. He'd called the next day to thank her for coming and to reassure her that he meant it when he said he hoped they could do it again. Mitchell explained that thanks to her recognition of the oversight in his formula, his research was now moving full speed ahead. He and his research team were reenergized and it showed.
Dara assured the handsome scientist that she understood his work load. The end of the school term was fast approaching and for her that meant even more paperwork than usual, paperwork she had to get right, Dara teased gently, if she wanted to be able to move little Brick Davies along to the next poor soul who would have him in her classroom all year.
They'd spoken every day since, quick calls just to keep the growing connection between them flourishing. Mitchell said her calls 'excited his atoms', a corny pickup line in the mouth of anyone but a scientist. Dara knew that he was being sincere in his praise. Mitchell loved science and everything about it.
Dara took another sip of wine and checked on the batch of rolls baking in her oven. Having Mitchell cook for her 'excited her atoms' as well, and Dara dusted off a skill she had let go unused for quite some time. As a young girl she had loved to bake. Somewhere along the way she'd simply stopped. Boys, school, college, the classroom... They had all taken more and more of Dara's time until there was none left for baking.
Dara recalled announcing importantly to her parents that someday she would open her own bakery. She'd been about the age of the students she now taught. Her parents had sampled the tiny fare from her Eazy Bake oven and agreed whole-heartedly in the way that parents do in support of their children.
Her fellow teachers were thrilled that she returned to baking. Every other morning or so this week they had entered the teachers' lounge to discover the tantalizing aromas of freshly baked goods. It had become a first come, first served rush to visit the lounge each morning, coffee cup in hand. The janitorial staff watched in amusement; they'd already enjoyed the separate basket of goodies Dara set aside just for them.
The oven's timer sounded. Dara slid on an insulated mitt and pulled the tray of warm, yeasty brioche from inside. She inhaled the aroma deeply, pleased that her baking skills were becoming more familiar by the day.
Dara placed the rolls on a rack to cool. She turned down the soft music playing on the satellite radio and listened. She thought she'd heard- Yes, there it was. A knock on her front door. Her heartbeat quickened for just a moment. Perhaps it was Mitchell who'd found a free moment just to see her face-to-face. Data hoped so. Aside from the obvious, it would also give him a chance to sample the warm rolls with a bit of Irish butter.
She peered through the one-way peephole. It wasn't Mitchell who stood on her doorstep but the two young men who had interrupted their dinner that night. Dara stared at them puzzled and debated whether to let them in.
"Dr. Cartwright doesn't know we are here," the young African American said just loudly enough for Dara to hear through the wooden door. "We just want to tell you a little bit about him and plead his case."
"Yeah," his blond companion nodded enthusiastically. "I never seen him this happy before."
Dara's curiosity about Mitchell overrode any nagging doubts about allowing the two young men inside. She unlocked the door and let them in. "Come in." She closed the door behind them. "We met the other night but I don't think I got your names. Have a seat."
The two young men continued to stand. "I've known Dr. Cartwright for a couple of years now and I've never seen him this excited about anyone."
"And I've known him for even longer," the young blond added. "He only gets excited about his formulas and theories. But I know he wants to tell you...things."
"Dylan-" The single word was a warning.
"Dylan?" Dara froze. "Who-"
"I'm Paul," the young African American male said. "And this is Dylan. You know us. We met on that bus from the planetarium."
Dara felt a chill race down her spine. She had ignored her doubts about the two young men and it had come back to bite her. They were obviously delusional or disturbed, or both. "Okay, Paul and Dylan..." She humored them while she tried to edge toward her unlocked front door.
"We aren't going to hurt you, Miss Hickley." As one they moved to block her escape. "Doctor Cartwright is crazy about you. And we'd never hurt anyone he cares about. He's our geneticist and he's trying to understand what we do." They glanced at one another. The familiarity of the gesture finally clicked into place and Dara realized where she'd seen it before. "And maybe duplicate it."
Dara stood frozen as the two young men began to contort into shapes the human body should not have been capable of. The distinctive snap of breaking bones played a counterpart to the awful sounds of flesh tearing. It sounded to Dara as if the two young men were being savaged alive by some wild creature.
The horrible sounds seemed to go on forever. Just when Dara had gathered her wits enough to make a dash for the front door, the room fell silent. She stared in disbelief at the two little boys in grossly oversized clothing standing where their larger, older counterparts had been. "You see, Miss Hickley," the one she knew as Dylan said, "it's just me and Paul."
Dara felt a curious tightness between her eyes just before the room began to spin. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted dead away.
"Oh, crap."
End note:
