The Perfect Run

• 2016, Italy.

“Our target,” Leonard Hargraves faced his team in his human form, “is Freddie Sabino, alias Bloodstream.”

Pictures of the man that the Psycho used to be appeared on the screen, right next to the bloody abomination he had turned into. Short black hair, a tired face aged by stress, brown eyes… an unremarkable man for a terrible destiny.

“Born 1980 in Otranto, Italy, to a fisherman and a housewife, Freddie Sabino married young, dropped out of college when his girlfriend expected a child, and then joined the Otranto Polizia Municipale; the only job he ever had. His wife abandoned him for another man before Last Easter, leaving him to raise two young children alone. A daughter, Len—perhaps a shorthand for Lenora—and a son, Cesare.”

In short, there was nothing special about the man. If the apocalypse hadn’t happened, Freddie Sabino might have lived a normal life. Put money on the side, watched his kids go to college, perhaps marry again.

“Though the Alchemist sent Wonderboxes to families or isolated individuals, a few Elixirs ended up in the hands of law enforcement on Last Easter’s eve; usually because they were mistaken for drug batches or letter bombs. When the apocalypse began and Genomes rampaged in Otranto, Freddie Sabino stole two Elixirs from his police station and fled the city.”

They would never know to whom these Elixirs had been sent, before the police confiscated them. Perhaps if they had reached their intended owners, a great many tragedies could have been averted.

“We know Sabino was active as a Psycho as early as 2009.” Leo showed his team a phone picture of a bloody monster boarding a rusted car, alongside two children no older than twelve. “Reports indicated he has traveled with his children since the late 2000s, though his son was only confirmed as alive in 2012.”

Someone among the audience raised a gloved hand. Leo responded with a nod. “Yes?”

“Do the children have powers too?” Mr. Wave asked. The oddest member of the group, he was a creature of living wavelengths, and rarely took things seriously. “Mr. Wave is not going all out on kids, even if they’re Genomes.”

“The kids are powerless,” said Mathias Martel. The sixteen-year-old teen had insisted on joining the Carnival after his mother’s dementia, determined to complete her work. He had proved invaluable as an information gatherer, though not as much as Pythia.

Ace nodded with a dark look on her face. “He would have killed them if they were Genomes.”

“Nothing indicates that they are complicit in their father’s crimes,” Leo continued. “According to Pythia’s psyche report, Bloodstream remains violently protective of his children even in his current state. However, he also keeps them dependent on him through social isolation, gaslighting, and physical abuse.”

Leo had seen many similar cases in London; far too many. These fathers convinced their children the world was out to get them, and that they could only rely on their kin.

“We must ensure the children’s safety, especially that of Len Sabino, but I will come back to them in a few moments.” Leo continued his exposé on their target’s capabilities. “Bloodstream is a Green/Blue type. His Green power grants him complete control over his blood. He can reshape it into weapons, create tentacles, restructure his body. His Blue power turns him into pure information. It might have allowed him to enter computer systems, had he remained a pure Blue.”

It would have made him easier to kill.

“But as it is often the case with Psychos, his two powers mutated to form a unique synergy. Bloodstream became his blood, literally. Each of his blood cells hosts his consciousness, allowing him to reform as long as one remains. Nothing short of disintegration will slay him.”

“We need your flames,” the Cossack guessed.

Leonard nodded. “Which leads us to his ghastliest ability; the reason why he has remained undefeated for so long and accumulated a four-digit body count. If Bloodstream’s blood cells enter another human’s circulatory system, then he can take it over. Like a virus, he will overwrite foreign cells’ information with his own. Your DNA, your mind, your memories… If Bloodstream touches you, you are worse than dead.”

Leonard marked a short pause for emphasis.

“You are him.”

“What do you think?” Shortie asked, as she wiped sweat off her forehead. Her clothes had turned black and dirty, but she looked at her work with pride.

Standing on the boathouse’s pier at her side, Ryan didn’t share her enthusiasm. “That it will be a miracle if we reach Spain, let alone the USA.”

The boathouse smelled of rust and decaying paint, its ceiling threatening to fall apart any moment. The ten meter-long vessel floated in a water pond with direct access to the Tyrrhenian Sea, a pineapple-shaped, clunky mass of metal. The machine’s shape and rusty brown color scheme reminded Ryan of the Ictíneo II, one of the world’s earliest submarines.

It didn’t inspire confidence.

Len pinched him in the arm in response. “The Laika will work fine,” she said. “We’ll reach America in twelve days according to the autopilot.”

Ryan squinted at her with skepticism. “The Laika?”

“Like the dog the Russians sent to space.”

And they wanted to go to the USA? She would never fit in. “You do know she died midway through the mission, right? You’ve condemned us all!”

Len tried to pinch him in the arm again, but Ryan saw it coming. He dodged her vicious attack, and responded by grabbing her by the waist and treacherously kissing her on the neck. Her skin was soft to the touch, and she let out a cute gasp of surprise.

“Riri, not here,“ she whispered in protest, putting her hands on his own.

“Just a kiss,” Ryan asked, begged, his lips moving to her cheeks. “Come on, we deserve it. We’ve been working on this thing nonstop for weeks.”

“Riri, you’re insane…” Len whispered, but she didn’t fight him back either. Eventually, she gave in. “Okay, but five minutes tops.”

They made out for fifteen, her hand in his hair, his own on her back. Len tasted of oil and saltwater, but Ryan didn’t care. He wouldn’t have stopped for anything in the world. But like all good things, it was over too soon.

“That was foolish,” Len said while breaking the embrace, though her blushing cheeks disagreed.

If she had let him, Ryan wouldn’t have stopped at mere kisses.

Their first night together had been a logistical nightmare. First, they had to find pre-war pills which hadn’t expired, and unused condoms. Then they had to wait for her father to wander away, so he wouldn’t catch them in the act. When the right moment came, Ryan and Len realized they had no idea how to proceed. Nobody taught them the finer details, so their kisses and touches had been horribly clumsy.

But they figured it out. For a moment, Ryan and Len had been alone in the world. Two halves made one.

Ryan wouldn’t have stopped at one night, but her father never let them out of sight for long anymore. Not since the Carnival started hunting his clones. The two teens had to settle on furtive kisses and caresses, always fearing discovery.

The situation made Ryan die a little inside each day. Len’s father was always there. Always between them. Always ruining their chance at happiness. Always causing them trouble.

And now, that insane maniac had decided the ‘family’ would leave Europe altogether and migrate to America. What logical process Bloodstream went through to reach this idea, Ryan would never understand. But he didn’t leave his charges any choice.

Porto Venere had been a small coastal town before the apocalypse, a few colored houses built next to long piers. The locals had abandoned the place long before their group moved in. It was isolated enough that nobody would locate their hideout, but close enough to Genoa for supply runs.

Though Ryan himself was the only one who left the house nowadays. Shortie spent her time working on her submarine, while her father hid in their temporary home. The Carnival fell on them whenever Bloodstream went out in public, but Ryan could slip out unnoticed, if he took precautions.

“Can you bring back oranges and citruses, if you find any?” Len asked Ryan, as he prepared to leave the boathouse through a small door. “We risk scurvy with our current reserves.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he said, before freezing at his hand reached the door lock. “Hey, Shortie…”

“Mmm…”

“You said everything on the sub is automated? No manual controls?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “I can do a lot with my power, but scavenged boats aren’t the best source of materials available. I had to sacrifice some features to make the whole thing work.”

“What if we have a problem on the way?”

“Well, the sub will automatically redirect to the nearest shore. Hopefully, Dad will protect us in the meantime.”

Ryan looked over his shoulders, their eyes meeting. “It’s your dad I worry about.”

lips, and crossed her arms. “Riri, I… my position

already. To leave her father stranded on the shore while they fled across the sea. Bloodstream might have an uncanny ability to locate his daughter whenever she wandered off, but he couldn’t

remained stubborn as a mule. “They’ll

won’t pursue us across

in space,” Ryan countered. “It will take us days to cross the ocean, and hours for

yet.” They had hidden well, true. “They can’t

meant it as a statement, but it sounded

would be a bad thing if the Carnival cornered their ‘guardian’ and slew him for good. However, he was worried they wouldn’t stop at Bloodstream alone, since people had

he couldn’t help but dream of a sun

been a boat club once, where rich people

“Cesare!”

Ryan to the bone, making

to the house’s dining room. Bloodstream slouched on a tattered sofa, right in front of the TV. This was the last clone, as far as Ryan

to his left. Ryan reluctantly obeyed, his kind and well-adjusted stepfather pointing at the TV. “It’s

had long turned into shattered glass, but Ryan indulged the delusional Psycho.

said, shaking his head. “I… I wish I had the

Ryan lied, going

head closer to his captive’s ear. “Your sister is sick,

down Ryan’s spine. “Len looks healthy

disease is in us. It drove the whole world mad. I think

dream of

eyes. And the air… I feel a thousand microscopic flies move into my lungs as I breathe. Even the water looks back and speaks to me. Hell is alive, Cesare. It’s an infestation. Satan distributed these bottles to poison

better than to talk

Cesare? Your grandma died from it. It’s insidious, cancer. It grows inside of you, it intertwines with your organs like a tree’s roots in fertile soil. You have to be careful about removing it, or you destroy the whole garden.” Bloodstream patted his adoptive son’s shoulder, as if congratulating him for winning a soccer game. “I’ll find a way to operate on your sister one day. Make her healthy again. I’ll figure something out, don’t

only a matter of time before he looked at his own daughter for sustenance. The Psycho

and your sister die, I don’t… I don’t know what I will do. I love you. I… love you

Ryan didn’t know how to

like a raging sea. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t… I just wanted to protect

him, to strike him in return

pitied the

whimpered. “Your mother is gone. Our house is gone. I just… I don’t know what to do… that

warm feeling filling his innards. He carefully raised a hand, putting it on the bloody monster’s shoulder. He was warm and slippery to the touch. “It’s okay. I’ll protect

other side of the ocean,” he

with cancer, telling him he would

himself so well, that for a second, he thought Bloodstream could improve. That the man inside could reassert control; that Ryan could call himself Ryan, not Cesare; that he could marry Len, build a house near the sea, and raise children in peace. A simple dream, for a

turned into a

he said, his voice no longer shaking. “If you and your sister die... I’ll

softly, Ryan found it

the young teen understood the words,

his delirium. “A world where children can die… it’s just not worth existing. We’ll all be together on the other side. It

time on the sofa, looking at the shattered screen with a frightening intensity. A psychotic shooter

went right

horrors Bloodstream inflicted on his family and countless others. if there had been a man inside that bloody head of his,

the house, worrying that he might return to find Len dead at her father’s

with a bag on his back. A thought gnawed the teen’s mind like

would never make it

bones. The proximity, the isolation… her father would lose control. He would weep and regret, but he would do the terrible deed. If not during the trip itself, then on

and one day he would go

die. For Len’s good, and

only detected Elixirs inside Genomes’ blood; but that meant he would know the second his adoptive son

the syringe as if alive, a promise of power and freedom. Perhaps it could give Ryan a power stronger

across

drop of blood infected an adult man, spreading through his veins like an infection, devouring the organs from

let the

a clone of himself. In fact, we believe he did it so often that his current body isn’t the original one.”

kills half of them at once, the other half will fear him?” The boastful Genome slouched

leave nothing behind. Not even a droplet. Each time we ambush a clone, I will incinerate it and Stitch will sterilize the area afterward. Fortunately, Bloodstream is a lone wolf Psycho. Unlike

of his

to maintain their hive mind. If we isolate Bloodstream’s doubles from bystanders, we can eliminate them one by one.

Ace asked. “I

followed their trail. “The family travels across Italy in an irregular pattern and never stays

Bloodstream relentlessly and keep him

Stitch. “Did you finish examining the biological

the plague doctor confirmed with a nod. “I was waiting for this meeting to fact

operations. This structure allowed each member a great deal of flexibility, and made the group highly resilient. Members might die, but someone would always

a crimson, crystallized axe. “He cannot telekinetically control your blood, unless he infects you first. Neither can he generate mass out of thin air, which is why he needs hosts to

voodoo doll mumbo-jumbo then?” Mr. Wave asked.

with Manic Plague,” Ace agreed

peak of ten doubles. If they break that limit, the clones start absorbing each other to reduce their numbers, probably to reduce the

Stitch raised his hand.

“Yes, Stitch?”

all due respect,” the

selecting which books to bring with her to the sub, when the explosion

her grip on her books. Some safely fell on the pier, but her copy of Lenin’s The State and Revolution sank into the

father didn’t answer. A smell of smoke and flames came from the

with a

He looked exhausted, as if he

he said, catching

worst fear had come to

in the distance, like a bombardment. It’s his last body, Len realized in

grabbing her books off the floor.

“Go? Go where?”

her boyfriend’s eyes, and

“Maybe Dad will

the odds. He had fought the Augusti, raiders, and heroes, and he

have to run, Shortie. They’re too numerous, your father can’t beat them all.” Ryan leapt on the sub, carefully moving towards the hatch. “Activate the sub, your dad will catch

her. She followed her boyfriend, opening

keeping only a bunk bed next to a small porthole and the sub’s

Len asked, typing on the computer while Ryan put

“I wasn’t careful.”

made her pause. She interrupted her work to look at him, and immediately

Len accused him. “You led

didn’t even deny

he could…

said, his gaze firm. “He’s

hissed, grinding her teeth, “I

interrupted her. “If we don’t flee, he’ll