Sacred Flesh Read Online Free Page B
Author: Timothy Cavinder
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Science-Fiction
chair.
“We could,” Cosward says stepping forward.
“We could find her that’s what we could do,” he says turning back around to face them. “Get some people together and get out there. I want her found and secured quickly; this could be everything we’ve worked for! We can’t afford any margin of error. That professor is performing the first DNA test as we speak from the same sample that she’s carrying, if it comes back as His then she’s the one but now we’ve lost her!”
“We’ll find her Haggai,” Logos offers.
“We’d better the whole future of the Elite is riding on it.”
CHAPTER 11
The large mechanical bird lands swiftly amid the bright airport lights. He steps off the plane and into the airport tired from the long flight from Europe.
The circle of bags eventually gives up his and he heads for the waiting car and its hired driver to take him to the hotel. There are to be no delays, he remembers his instructions clearly, get to Jim Dunbar as fast as possible, tell him everything, he must be shown the evil of the Elite and be inspired to work for The Church, this is your mission. He plays the scene over in his mind, the three old men sitting in a circle around the huge wooden conference table in the undercroft office.
“Why do they always bother me?” He thinks while walking down the hotel hallway toward his room. “If I’d only done things differently, made better choices when I was young I wouldn’t be in this situation, forever in the debt of a few.” He stops at the room door, sliding in his key card he quickly opens the door and flips on the light. Closing the door behind him he turns and jumps in his skin.
“Who are you?”
CHAPTER 12
The lab is mostly dark. Jim is completely distracted. He’s just placed the first test results in an envelope on the lab counter. It has been two days since he agreed to do the testing, enough time for an unsettling feeling to sit in: is this wrong? He thinks to himself. But the money, the money is so good with half a million I could get some real research done, I could buy my own lab, so who needs the university! That’s all I want, the time and space to work this money can easily do that for me. So who cares if these guys are nuts?
He stares out the window of the third floor lab overlooking the campus remembering when he first came here some twenty seven years ago; so young and naive. He almost smiles picturing himself strolling down the walkway carrying the brown leather briefcase his wife bought him. Those were young days for sure, when possibilities were plentiful and time was an infinite commodity, more than enough to go around, more than enough to last. If I’d only known how untrue all that was, he thinks while rubbing the sides of his face. His thoughts are suddenly forced into the present with the ringing of his cell phone.
“Oh damn! I was supposed to call her this morning,” he turns toward his briefcase and the phone.
He makes the appointment for later that evening knowing his wife has gone with some friends of hers to the gambling boat, ‘the floating Vegas’ giving him plenty of time to return the test results and meet his friend. He carefully and quietly exits the lab. (It’s Saturday so no one is around.) I can make it back safely, back to my office without running into anyone. Why does this feel so wrong? But wrong can be an accustomed sensation at times, certainly hanging out with a young co-ed isn’t exactly correct, using the university lab for covert DNA testing well, what the hell? Maybe I should start cheating on my taxes too. He smiles while quickly carrying his thin frame down the walkway pass the row of old wooden park benches. Next to them, almost completely hidden by a large Hickory tree and some uncut bushes is a greening bronze Plaque mounted on a small piece of marble.
Jim hurries by it never having paid attention to it during his twenty seven years of teaching. Unnoticed, it now stands as
“We could,” Cosward says stepping forward.
“We could find her that’s what we could do,” he says turning back around to face them. “Get some people together and get out there. I want her found and secured quickly; this could be everything we’ve worked for! We can’t afford any margin of error. That professor is performing the first DNA test as we speak from the same sample that she’s carrying, if it comes back as His then she’s the one but now we’ve lost her!”
“We’ll find her Haggai,” Logos offers.
“We’d better the whole future of the Elite is riding on it.”
CHAPTER 11
The large mechanical bird lands swiftly amid the bright airport lights. He steps off the plane and into the airport tired from the long flight from Europe.
The circle of bags eventually gives up his and he heads for the waiting car and its hired driver to take him to the hotel. There are to be no delays, he remembers his instructions clearly, get to Jim Dunbar as fast as possible, tell him everything, he must be shown the evil of the Elite and be inspired to work for The Church, this is your mission. He plays the scene over in his mind, the three old men sitting in a circle around the huge wooden conference table in the undercroft office.
“Why do they always bother me?” He thinks while walking down the hotel hallway toward his room. “If I’d only done things differently, made better choices when I was young I wouldn’t be in this situation, forever in the debt of a few.” He stops at the room door, sliding in his key card he quickly opens the door and flips on the light. Closing the door behind him he turns and jumps in his skin.
“Who are you?”
CHAPTER 12
The lab is mostly dark. Jim is completely distracted. He’s just placed the first test results in an envelope on the lab counter. It has been two days since he agreed to do the testing, enough time for an unsettling feeling to sit in: is this wrong? He thinks to himself. But the money, the money is so good with half a million I could get some real research done, I could buy my own lab, so who needs the university! That’s all I want, the time and space to work this money can easily do that for me. So who cares if these guys are nuts?
He stares out the window of the third floor lab overlooking the campus remembering when he first came here some twenty seven years ago; so young and naive. He almost smiles picturing himself strolling down the walkway carrying the brown leather briefcase his wife bought him. Those were young days for sure, when possibilities were plentiful and time was an infinite commodity, more than enough to go around, more than enough to last. If I’d only known how untrue all that was, he thinks while rubbing the sides of his face. His thoughts are suddenly forced into the present with the ringing of his cell phone.
“Oh damn! I was supposed to call her this morning,” he turns toward his briefcase and the phone.
He makes the appointment for later that evening knowing his wife has gone with some friends of hers to the gambling boat, ‘the floating Vegas’ giving him plenty of time to return the test results and meet his friend. He carefully and quietly exits the lab. (It’s Saturday so no one is around.) I can make it back safely, back to my office without running into anyone. Why does this feel so wrong? But wrong can be an accustomed sensation at times, certainly hanging out with a young co-ed isn’t exactly correct, using the university lab for covert DNA testing well, what the hell? Maybe I should start cheating on my taxes too. He smiles while quickly carrying his thin frame down the walkway pass the row of old wooden park benches. Next to them, almost completely hidden by a large Hickory tree and some uncut bushes is a greening bronze Plaque mounted on a small piece of marble.
Jim hurries by it never having paid attention to it during his twenty seven years of teaching. Unnoticed, it now stands as
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