Frankenskeeters Page 2
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Wells heads for World Drive, roars into the restaurant’s parking lot and slides to a stop next to a red dually truck. A woman steps down from its running board. Her waist length dark hair obscures the player’s number on the Tampa Bay Bucs’ jersey.
Johnnie lowers the window to ask “Auntie?”
The woman nods and peers into the limo. She sees Flash and turns to grab a heavy leather satchel from her truck. She gets in the limo; takes a small brown vial of liquid from her bag and holds it under Flash’s nose. He jerks upright.
“Auntie G!”
“All of it!” she instructs as she pushes the vial into his silicone hand.
“What happened to Kalee?” Auntie Gladys asks Flash. “She’s not answering my calls or texts.”
“They took her, Auntie. I tried to stop them but I…”
“What do you mean they took her, Flash? What happened?
“Me and Kalee walked out of the building,” Flash explains. “She said she had a shortcut underground. We came around the back side of the building. Two men behind us started yelling. The way they talked sounded like that Voulez vous coucher avec moi song. Then they zapped me in the back.”
Flash lifts his shirt and shows Auntie two Taser dart wounds.
“They grabbed her and I saw them shove her into a black SUV.”
“Did they hurt her Flash? Did you see which way they went?”
“I don’t know Auntie. They drove off and I must have blacked out. I guess I fell. When I woke up, I was down in the tunnels. Then those mosquitos came. Thousands of ‘em. I couldn’t breathe.”
“We got out of the tunnels just in time,” says Johnnie and rubs purple slime from her neck. “We couldn’t keep the swarms from escaping. They’re out there now.”
“Here,” Auntie hands Johnnie a cloth and a jar of greenish gel. “Clean his forehead. Get all that goo off the lot of you. I should have never gotten her involved in this. Did Kalee give you the package?”
“I met her at the tour counter,” he explains. “I took a photo like you told me, so I’d look like a tourist. You told me to make sure no one saw her give me the package. I knew it was important and I’d better hide it.” He holds up his molded plastic forearm. “I stashed it here -inside my arm.”
“Flash had me hold this for you Auntie,” says Johnnie and hands the small package to Auntie; who rips open the seed packet to expose a small data drive.
“Is this what the men who attacked Flash were after?” asks Johnnie.
“They kidnapped Kalee for this!" says Auntie. "Flash you’ve got to help us find her. Can you tell us anything else?”
Flash pulls up the photo on his phone and shows it to Auntie.
“This is not Kalee,” says Auntie. “This girl said she was Kalee? They’ve taken someone else!"
In the selfie, a tattooed blonde in a white lab coat holds up her hand as if to warn No paparazzi!
“She looks just like my Kalee. Except for those tattoos,” says Auntie. “Whoever kidnapped this girl could have taken Kalee too!”
“How did those men know Kalee and Flash were going to meet to exchange the data?” asks Johnnie.
Auntie Gladys expands the photo.
“Someone had to tell them.”
Johnnie continues to wipe purple slime from her clothes and looks nervously in the direction of EPCOT.
“Shouldn’t we call the police?" she asks.
“If someone’s willing to kidnap Kalee for this data, we can’t afford to put her in more danger. As soon as we involve the feds, we lose control," says Auntie.
“Auntie, I…,” stutters Flash and he begins to slump.
“Keep him moving,” Auntie Gladys tells Ho Ho. “Don’t let him nod off.”
Ho Ho and Wells lift Flash out of the limo and help him walk around the parking lot.
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Gladys leans closer to Johnnie and whispers “That boy ain’t been right since the lightning strike.”
She shakes her head and gazes across the parking lot at the mouse head power pole.
“What are those terrible burns on him?” asks Johnnie.
“He got struck by lightning during his high school football practice. It scarred his face and melted his shoulder pads right into his chest.”
“Did lightning destroy his arm, too?”
“Yes. He got a new arm and hand from the doctor who worked with Winter the dolphin. Flash is so sensitive to metal and electricity that the doctor used special alloys. One too many Joules and that Taser could have thrown him into cardiac arrest.”
“Do you think Flash’s photo of the twin girl can help us find Kalee?” asks Johnnie.
Auntie places the seed packet next to Flash’s phone and expands the photo of Kalee’s twin.
“See her tattoo? Near the cuff on her lab coat?” Auntie points to a few inches above the girl’s wrist. “Now look at the picture on the seed packet.”
She uses the data drive to trace the tattoo and botanical drawing on the seed packet; an illustration of a delicate blossom with pale tendrils dangling like the hind legs of a frog.
“Dendrophylax lindenii,” says Auntie. “The white frog, aka the ghost orchid."
“The tattoo and seed packet illustration match,” says Johnnie. “What is Kalee trying to tell us?”
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Wells and Ho Ho return with Flash and Auntie asks,
“Will this fancy limo of yours handle the swamp?”
“Absolutely, where to?” asks Wells.
“Where that orchid is. If we find that – we’ll find Kalee.”
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SWAMPLAND
“Take 417 to the Moccasin Wallow exit.” Auntie directs. “We’ll go the back way.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t talk to the Sheriff?” asks Johnnie.
“We don’t know who’s behind this cover up,” says Auntie. “If we bring the Feds in now, we may not get to Kalee in time.”
“So you’re sayin’ until we find Kalee, it’s radio silence?” asks Wells.
“Not a peep,” insists Auntie.
“What’s so special about that orchid Auntie?” asks Johnnie.
“We sing to the plants we use in healing,” Auntie answers. “Sometimes they sing to us.”
“What does the Ghost orchid say?” prompts Johnnie.
Auntie clasps Johnnie’s hand in hers.
“Where there was one now there are two. It tells me of division and duplication. We must go to where they grow. Not too long ago, you wouldn't find the Ghost orchid above the Banana Line. No true tropicals grew north of the Manatee River. I know a grower named Hermann near Orlando who propagates rare hybrid orchids. If we’re going to find Kalee, we need to go there.”
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Knobby cypress knees and melaleuca trees fringe the oyster marl road. Wells slows the limo as a crowd of snacking ibis crosses to the opposite ditch. Auntie pulls out her pendulum and begins to dowse.
“Are we close to Hermann’s grow houses?” she asks the jeweled pendulum. It begins to spin in larger circles clockwise.
“It says yes!”
Wells slows at a cross road and Auntie asks, “To the right?” The pendulum spins counterclockwise.
“No. Go left, Wells.”
Wells blows past the Posted sign. The evening breeze catches the tattered shade cloths of grow houses. Twilight fades to dusk.
“Auntie, there’s a chain across the road,” warns Wells. He slows to crawl as the road dips and the swamp encroaches.
“Stop here,” she orders.
“Is Kalee near?” Auntie asks the pendulum; but it only swings straight back and forth.
“We don’t know.”
“I say we walk,” says Johnnie. “We’ve come this far. We’ve got to find Kalee.”
“First we find the ghost orchid.”
Auntie Gladys and Johnnie step out of the limo. Johnnie swipes on her phone’s flashlight.
“I’ll stay with the
car and keep the headlights on,” says Wells and slaps another mosquito.
“These mosquitos seem be the normal ones,” Johnnie says nervously as she tosses Wells some insect repellent.
“As long as they aren’t the purple-eyed skeeters, we can deal with them,” agrees Auntie. “Your people thought they could chase mine into the swamp,” she teases Wells. “Until the mosquitos chased you back out. They feast on redheads.”
She walks the ruts of the road and steps over a downed red cedar branch. The pendulum swings violently in widening circles.
“We’re headed in the right direction. Wells give us the high beams,” Auntie shouts. “We’ve got to find her before it’s too dark.”
Johnnie sweeps her flashlight across the cypress swamp.
“What is that? Under that pond apple tree?”
An arm rises from the blackwater swamp; fingers outstretched. Dark polished fingernails reach towards a single pale ghost orchid blossom. A woman lies face down in the muck, her blonde hair matted with blood.
“Lord, no!” screams Auntie. “Kalee?”
Johnnie and Auntie wade into the swamp. Auntie tugs at the injured woman’s muddy lab coat.
“Help me turn her over!” she begs.
Johnnie braces herself against a cypress knee and rolls the woman on her side. Taser darts hang from her neck and chest.
“Is she breathing?” asks Auntie.
Johnnie holds her hand near the woman’s mouth.
“No, Auntie.”
Auntie falls to her knees. “I can’t bear to see her face,” she says and begins to cry.
Johnnie holds the woman’s wrist and feels for a pulse, but there's none.
“Wait Auntie. Look...the orchid tattoo. It’s not Kalee – it’s her twin!”
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IMMOKALEE’S RELEASE
Auntie’s phone rings. “Kalee’s calling me! She’s alright! Where are you Immokalee?” she demands.
Kalee winces as Auntie uses her full name. “I’m so sorry, Auntie…”
“What happened?”
“EPCOT security told me they found me passed out next to my car. I don’t remember leaving the building. I think someone drugged me Auntie. I just got my phone out of the lab lockers.”
“We found your friend.”
“My friend?”
“Your twin roommate. We found her in the swamp. She’s dead, Kalee,” says Auntie.
“Amanda? What are you talking about? She’s dead? I just saw her this morning.”
“We thought it was you in the swamp, Kalee. Flash mistook Amanda for you. It seems someone else did too.”
“Who knew we were meeting? Unless Amanda overheard our plans. I can’t believe she’s gone. Who would want to kill her?” asks Kalee.
“Someone doesn’t want that data to get out," insists Auntie.
“We’ve been attacked Kalee. The Frankenskeeters escaped. Get away from your lab now!” says Auntie. “Whoever’s behind these Frankenskeeters got to Amanda and I’m afraid they’ll come for you next.”
“What happened?”
“Flash was jumped and dumped in the utilidors. The mosquitos attacked. It was an invasion. Worse than we feared. You didn’t see any of them near the building?”
“I saw men in HAZMAT suits. Security wasn’t letting anyone through. It looked like a tornado hit.”
“It’s a nightmare Kalee. We’re only lucky that whoever jumped Flash and killed Amanda did not get the data. We’ve got the drive. There’s still hope.”
“Auntie, Dr. San Paulo returns tonight from a tropical diseases conference. He’s the expert on genetically modified mosquitos. If we get the data to him, he could stop the mutants before it’s too late.”
“Listen to me Kalee. First, we’ve got to get you to a safe place. Don’t go back to your apartment. Go to the Hard Rock Cafe. We’re coming to get you.”
“Let’s get back to the car,” Auntie tells Johnnie. “There’s nothing we can do for Amanda. We’ve got to get to Kalee before someone else does.”
“Wait – I found something,” Johnnie says and loosens an Apple watch from the twin’s arm. Johnnie tries to open the watch’s lock screen. “If we could unlock her call log; it might tell us who’s behind this. I’ve got a friend who can help us.”
“We can’t just leave her in the swamp,” says Ho Ho. “Won’t the gators…?”
Johnnie agrees; “We’ll report this to the Sheriff, as soon as we get to an anonymous phone. Otherwise, she’s gator bait.”
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BETWEEN A PLACE AND A HARD ROCK
The limo pulls up to the Hard Rock Cafe's entrance. Throngs of tourists crowd the steps.
“Stop here!” says Auntie. She waves at a young blonde in the shade. Kalee runs to the limo and Auntie wraps her in a bear hug.
“Thank God you’re safe.”
She introduces Kalee to Johnnie and Ho Ho.
“They helped Flash escape the attack.”
“You and your roommate really are lookalikes,” says Ho Ho. “I’m glad we didn’t find you in the swamp.”
“Ah, my Immokalee,” Auntie holds her closer and Kalee begins to cry.
“How’re you doing Flash?” asks Kalee.
“I’ve been through worse,” he touches his scarred face with his prosthetic hand.
“Ho Ho, I need you to keep an eye on Flash,” says Auntie. “It’d be best if he didn’t sleep until the morning.”
“That’s easy,” says the trombone player. “Come to my gig, Flash. We play until 2 A.M., and no one sleeps through our set!”
“Thanks for having my back,” Flash tells Ho Ho.
“Thanks for the tour Horatio,” adds Johnnie. “Next time; let’s please leave out the bugs!”
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Wells pulls away from the Hard Rock and asks, “Where to Johnnie?”
“Let’s get Amanda’s watch to Rummy at the marina. He’ll be able to help us learn who she’s been talking with and just how deep she was in this mess.”
“I’ll call Doc San Paolo,” says Kalee.
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“Good to hear from you Kalee!” answers Dr. San Paolo. “My plane just landed. Did you get the data?”
“Yes, Doc. We’ve got trouble. The genetically modified mosquitos escaped. They’re massing in Orlando. My friends were attacked.”
“Orlando International is diverting incoming planes,” says San Paolo. “Swarms of mosquitos are interfering with visibility. Ground crew report being slimed with some kind of purple goo and air traffic control is dealing with ultraviolet light interference. They’re more aggressive than I predicted. I need that data immediately.”
“We’re sending a limo to pick you up,” says Kalee.
“Excellent. Call my assistant Josh and tell him to bring the full mobile lab plus the oil spill kit. We’ll need my favorite modified oligos for genetic comparison. Don’t forget the dry ice. We’re running out of time.”
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DIRTY LITTLE SECRET
A cooling wind gusts out of the north and a loose halyard clangs against a sailboat’s mast. Wells bypasses full moon fishermen, their trailered boats in tow. He slides to a stop in front of the marina’s boat repair shack. Wetsuits are slung across a slatted wooden bench to dry. A rusted sign warns tourists Welcome to our beach! Now go Home! Stacked aluminum storm shutters lean against the shack’s windows.
Wells holds the limo door open for Auntie and Kalee.
“I’ll bring the doctor back here ASAP,” he tells Johnnie.
“We’ll meet you at Rico’s boat. He’s expecting us.”
Johnnie, Auntie Gladys and Kalee enter the shack. Kalee jumps back as an alligator skull suspended by monofilament swings toward her head; jaws agape and teeth exposed. A ship's bell sounds as the automatic door opener closes and retracts the hanging skull; making it ready to welcome the next visitor.
“Nice touch, real Florida greetings, Rummy,” says Johnnie. “Meet Auntie Gladys and Kalee.
"
Barefoot, with flip flop tan lines, the retired Coastie wipes his hands on his Old Salts Fishing Tournament T-shirt. His genuine smile turns to worry as he brushes purple slime from Johnnie’s shoulder.
“Johnnie, what’s happened to you?”
“We’ve been attacked. Some kind of Frankenskeeter. We need your help.”
“Frankenskeeter? Some kind of mosquito did that to you?”
Johnnie nods and hands him Amanda’s Apple watch.
“Can you get a call history off this?”
“Semper paratus, sister. We’re always ready for the call. Apple’s so uppity about their seamless security. What are we looking for Johnnie?”
“We want to see her recent calls and who she calls most frequently.”
Rummy reaches above his workbench; powers up a wall mounted flat screen TV; and syncs the watch with his computer. Auntie Gladys settles herself onto a vinyl cushioned boat bench.
Johnnie leans against a barstool, while Kalee wanders through the shop; its walls encrusted with propellers and spools of cable. She opens the eye visor on a welding hood and raps on nearby tanks of oxygen and acetylene.
“Did Amanda say anything unusual the last time you talked?” Johnnie asks Kalee.
“I should have known Amanda was into something,” admits Kalee as she inspects a solid brass sponge diver’s helmet. “The other morning, she told me she’d paid off her student loans. I was surprised; I still owe 30K! She said her family helped her.”
“Family?” asks Johnnie.
“She never spoke much about her family. All I know is her Facebook photo shows her and an older man on an oil rig platform. Her dad I guess. She gave me this necklace the same day she told me about her loans being paid. How could she afford jewelry like this? We make next to nothing in genetic research.”