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.”

lower lips, and crossed her arms.

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

a mule. “They’ll keep coming after him,” he warned her. “As long as he lives,

won’t pursue us across

speeds and even in space,” Ryan countered.

had hidden well, true. “They can’t find

as a statement, but it sounded

and slew him for good. However, he was worried they wouldn’t stop at Bloodstream alone, since people had seen the family

yet, he couldn’t help but dream of a sun falling down on

building. He guessed it had been a boat club once, where rich people could store their ships, watch

“Cesare!”

voice chilled Ryan to the bone, making the boy

was the last clone, as

his kind and well-adjusted stepfather pointing at the TV. “It’s

turned into shattered glass, but Ryan indulged the delusional Psycho. “I

obsessed with this series, that you always pestered me to buy you toys,” Bloodstream said, shaking his head. “I… I wish I had the

lied, going through

head closer to

Ryan’s spine. “Len looks healthy to me,”

didn’t listen. “She’s sick, Cesare. All of us who took this poison, we’re all sick. The disease is in us. It drove the whole world mad. I think they put demons in these bottles. I know, because I

you dream of

and 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

knowing better than to talk back to Bloodstream while he

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

clenching his fists. As he knew… it was only a matter of time before he looked at his own daughter for sustenance. The Psycho hadn’t fed

what I will do. I love you. I… love you

Ryan didn’t know how to react, so he

just wanted to protect you both, and I… I ruined it all. Now Len is sick, and… and I’m sick too. I’m

looked at this deluded, sobbing monster. He wanted to hate him, to strike him in return for the years of fear

the man

know what to

raised a hand, putting it on the bloody monster’s shoulder. He was warm and slippery to the

peaceful as a Japanese pond. “I’m sure your mom is waiting for us on the other side of the ocean,” he said, with

felt like reassuring a child with cancer, telling him he would go to

Ryan lied to 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

dream quickly turned into

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

said that so softly, Ryan

young teen understood the words, and they chilled him

it’s just not worth existing. We’ll all be together on the other side. It can’t be hell

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

Ryan went right back

at himself too, for pitying that monster even for a second. For thinking that things could turn around, making him forget all the horrors Bloodstream inflicted on his family and

he might return to find Len dead at

as he walked towards his bike with a bag on his back. A thought gnawed

make it to America

would weep and regret, but he would do the terrible deed. If not during the trip itself, then on

and one day he would

die. For Len’s

examined the Violet Elixir he always kept inside. Thankfully, Bloodstream only detected Elixirs inside Genomes’ blood; but that meant he would know

a promise of power and freedom. Perhaps it could give Ryan a power stronger than Bloodstream’s? Unlikely, but… what else could

across the skies,

representation of the possession process. A drop of blood infected an adult man, spreading through his veins

let the lifeblood out, and Bloodstream

restructure your body into a clone of himself. In fact, we believe he did it so often that his current body isn’t the original one.” A tense silence followed Leo’s explanations, as his team digested the information. “All his

the other half will fear him?” The boastful Genome slouched

ambush a clone, I will incinerate

is a pack of

than one mile from each other, perhaps to maintain their hive mind. If we isolate Bloodstream’s

are?” Ace asked. “I didn’t find any intel

family travels across Italy in an irregular pattern and never stays in the same

and keep him

turned to face Stitch. “Did you finish examining the biological

nod. “I was waiting

place for debriefings or large operations. This structure allowed each member a

of all, he can only control his own blood,” Leonard explained, showing pictures of Bloodstream bisecting an Augusti Genome with a crimson, crystallized axe. “He cannot telekinetically control your blood, unless he infects you first.

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

had enough with Manic Plague,” Ace agreed with a

doubles. If they break that limit, the clones start absorbing each other to reduce their numbers, probably to reduce the risk of them developing individual thoughts. He can only affect

Stitch raised his hand.

“Yes, Stitch?”

all due respect,” the doctor coughed. “You

selecting which books to bring with her

stumbled and lost her grip on her books. Some safely fell on the

Her father didn’t answer. A smell of smoke and flames came from the sea, carried inside

the boathouse’s door with a backpack

if he had run for miles. “Riri,

go,” he said, catching

fear had come to

like a bombardment. It’s his last body, Len realized in panic. If they

them,” Ryan said, grabbing her books off the floor.

“Go? Go where?”

her

said. “Maybe Dad will

had never lost. Her father always came back, always beat the odds. He had fought the Augusti, raiders, and heroes, and he defeated them all.

too numerous, your father can’t beat them all.” Ryan leapt on the sub, carefully

convinced her. She followed her boyfriend, opening the hatch and

cramped place, with only three rooms: one at the back for the machinery, one for stockpiled supplies, and the living space. Len had sacrificed space for efficiency, keeping only a bunk bed next to a small porthole and the sub’s control panel. It

computer while Ryan put her

“I wasn’t careful.”

in his unapologetic tone made her pause. She interrupted her work to look at him, and immediately saw the guilt in his

hide,” Len accused him. “You led

didn’t even

could… he

father is sick,” he said, his gaze firm. “He’s sick

she hissed, grinding her teeth, “I know that,

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