Robbie Dorman - Regrowth

What is it doing?

But then Jon saw. The great mass of meat had sunk itself into the ruined puddle of its old flesh. Melted off of it in a sudden blast of energy. But it was still useful, and the terrible thing absorbed it, pulling the old parts of it back in, feeding and growing.

“Oh no,” said Jon. The creature grew again, reconstructing not through its blackened wounds, but around them, pushing the scar tissue deep inside, adjusting to its new body. Because there was no destroying this. It would only regenerate.

Jon squeezed the scrambler serum in his fist. It would kill it, but he couldn’t get close enough to give it the shot. Shaw would obliterate him if he got within ten feet, tendrils whipping through the air. He needed a tranq gun.

The Shaw monster grew again, nearly at its original size, building back its strength. Jon ran to Tabby.

“I need a tranq gun!” yelled Jon.

“The armory,” said Tabby, and they all ran, not looking back at the massive creature. It screamed again.

“JON,” it yelled, lungs still somewhere inside of it, a bellow filling the dark lab. They ran, passing a squad of soldiers, with more shotguns and flamethrowers.

“Don’t!” yelled Jon as they passed, but they ignored him. They had orders, orders to fight the thing, and die as it ate them. Shaw would only grow larger as they fed more meat into the grinder.

They ran for the armory, passing more men running the other way. The floor shook now with the tremor of the great beast, as thousands of pounds of growing mass thumped along the floor, slithering on its own blood and bile, leaving a trail like a slug.

It followed them, still, followed him , still. It wanted to kill him, to eat him, to absorb him. The guards would all die, but they slowed down the creature, slowed it down long enough for them to reach the armory without problem. The sounds of shotgun blasts and assault rifles and flamethrowers all stopped, but they were inside, empty now, all the men now gone to feed the beast.

Tabby pointed, and Jon saw them. A row of tranq rifles, unused, and Jon grabbed one and loaded the serum inside. He couldn’t miss.

“It’s coming,” said Jon, the armory shaking, and then the world exploded, the creature smashing through the walls, sending glass and shelves and metal flying everywhere. They all tumbled, and the rifle flew out of Jon’s hands. He rolled, something opening up his head as he flew.

Jon stopped and opened his eyes. The great mass of the creature stood there, pulsating. He found Shaw’s eyes on the beast, and they looked at him, waiting for him. It again had paused when it could have enveloped him easily. It hadn’t. Jon met the gaze of Shaw’s eyes, and he realized that this Shaw thing wanted him to know his end was coming. Jon looked around, located Tommy, Mel, and Tabby scattered around the room. All of them shook their heads, trying to collect themselves.

And then Jon saw Shaw’s eyes move off of him and look elsewhere.

“TOMMY,” it bellowed, a dark, booming noise. It charged toward Tommy. It would punish Jon.

No

Jon spotted the rifle, a few feet away on the ground, and dove toward it. He grabbed it, his shoulder screaming with pain, but he held it and fired it at the great beast.

THUNK

The rifle fired, a thin stream of gas emitting from the weapon, and the dart flew and stuck into the side of the monster, a small prick, a minor threat, one probably not recognized, not when its whole life had been pain.

Now Jon could only watch. It still charged at Tommy, who had gotten up on a knee, about to stand up. It moved fast for its great size, and it hit him, grabbing him with tendrils. Jon’s heart sunk, and tears ran down his face.

But then the flesh of the beast sloughed away. A little at first, and then quickly, all the nature that bound its flesh together failing, all at once. It melted away, and the creature screamed again, but the noise had less force, and less, and less. Rivers of matter ran onto the ground, melted into base elements. They watched its DNA unravel before their eyes. Jon saw the eyes of Shaw then, and they saw each other, before the eyes fell away, just like the rest of it. Tommy tumbled out of the melting grasp of the thing.

Jon went to him, stepping through the puddles of flesh that surrounded them.

“Tommy!” said Jon, as he approached his son.

“Dad, I—” he started, but then Jon saw the blood. Tommy grabbed his side. Jon pulled up Tommy’s shirt to reveal a puncture wound, where one of Shaw’s tendrils had plunged its way inside to feed on Tommy.

“Are you okay?” asked Jon, frantically.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” said Tommy. “It hurts.”

“Tabby, Mel, do you know where the first aid kit is?” asked Jon. “We need doctors—”

And then Tommy screamed, a terrible scream of pain and trauma. Jon looked to Tommy and saw the flesh beneath the wound pulsate.

Tommy began to heal.

“Dad, what’s happening?” asked Tommy.

Jon looked down at Tommy’s torso, where Shaw had spiked him. Blood no longer poured from the wound, and he saw something move beneath Tommy’s skin.

Oh god .

They hadn’t tested the serum that regrew Tommy’s legs, or the chimp’s arm. They had assumed it had worked because the procedure had completed without complication, and both the chimp and Tommy had walked away.

But they hadn’t thought about the rest of their lives, the rest of their lives spent with new DNA. How would their bodies react to fresh injuries? Shaw had envisioned instant healing, a future without trauma. Jon’s own words echoed in his mind.

What if it gets injured again? It could trigger further mutation.

Tommy was healing the wound, but it had triggered something else, the growth of new flesh, and once it started, it wouldn’t stop.

Shaw had rushed them, from formula to formula, and they had tested none of them long term. The first chimp they had healed had seemed stable. Just like Tommy had seemed stable. Jon looked at Tommy’s injury and saw the healing process start anew. They had no nutrient bath, no controlled lab environment. Outside of it, the same process that had brought back his legs would start churning its way to fix the injury caused by Shaw. But without that controlled environment—

“Oh no, no no, no,” said Jon, grabbing Tommy. His mind sped, trying to think of a solution.

There’s only one, and you know it. You just gave it to Shaw.

No, Jon refused, he’d sooner die than kill Tommy. No, there had to be another way. There had to be some other fix. Tammy and Mel stared at him, confused, hopeless.

“What do we do?” asked Mel.

“Wait, wait, let me think,” said Jon. Tommy squeezed his side and groaned. They had no time, they had no time, think, Jon, think. They needed to reset him, revert him back to—

“The zero formula,” said Jon. “Remember it, Mel?”

“Yes, yes,” said Mel.

Jon looked to Tommy, who moaned in pain. He was changing already. He wouldn’t last much longer. “From down here, can you instruct the computer in the medical pillar to make it?”

“Yes,” said Mel.

“Good,” said Jon. “Do it.” He looked to Tabby, and kissed her once, and then grabbed Tommy, putting his arm over his shoulder, making their way to the elevator. He had to get Tommy away from the rest of them. He’d turn soon, unable to be reasoned with, and he wouldn’t have Tommy be a killer, for any reason. He knew what he had to do, clear in his mind.

He felt Tommy shake next to him.

“You with me, son?” asked Jon, as they moved toward the elevator. Jon half dragged Tommy. Jon’s left arm still barely worked, and he paused a moment to slam it into a glass panel, and it slid back into place with screaming pain.