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.”

her lower lips, and crossed her arms. “Riri, I… my position hasn’t

to convince her to run away with him a dozen times already. To leave her father stranded on the shore while they fled across the sea. Bloodstream might have an uncanny ability

could argue and scream all he wanted, yet she remained stubborn as a mule. “They’ll keep coming after him,” he warned

across the sea,” she replied

space,” Ryan countered. “It will take us days to cross

had hidden well, true. “They

as a statement, but it

wondered if it 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 seen the family travel together. Ryan

but dream of

opened the door with a sigh, and moved through the rest of the building. He guessed it had been a boat club once,

“Cesare!”

Ryan to the bone,

This was the last clone, as far as Ryan could tell. The Carnival had hunted them so relentlessly, that the group had

the Psycho said, gesturing at a spot to his left. Ryan reluctantly obeyed, his kind and well-adjusted stepfather

shattered glass, but Ryan indulged

always pestered me to buy you toys,” Bloodstream said, shaking his head. “I… I wish I had the money to

okay, Dad,” Ryan lied, going

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

went down Ryan’s spine. “Len looks

The disease is in us. It drove the whole world mad. I think they put demons in these bottles. I know, because

dream of

the walls have mouths 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 bottles to poison the

than to talk back to

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.

was only a matter of time before he looked at his own daughter for sustenance. The Psycho hadn’t fed in weeks, and his lucidity kept

know what I will do. I love you. I… love you both so

his head in his hands. Ryan didn’t know how to react,

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t… I just wanted to

sobbing monster. He wanted to hate him, to strike him in return for

the man

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

hand, putting it on the bloody monster’s shoulder. He was warm and slippery to the touch. “It’s okay.

layers becoming as peaceful as a Japanese pond. “I’m sure your mom is waiting for us on the other side of the ocean,” he said, with a shaking, hopeful voice. “She... she always wanted to go to L.A. She’s waiting for us there, you’ll see.

cancer, telling him he

That the man inside could reassert control; that Ryan could call himself Ryan, not Cesare; that he

dream quickly turned

broken TV, as if suddenly inspired. “If you die,” he said, his

said that so softly, Ryan found it

then the young teen understood the words, and they chilled him to the

“A world where children can die… it’s just not worth existing.

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

Ryan went right back to hating

angry 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

that he might return to find Len dead at her father’s hands. He always felt this

bike with a bag on his back. A

never make it to

bones. The proximity, the isolation… her father would lose control. He would weep and regret, but

was a ticking time-bomb, and one day he would go

had to die. For Len’s

always kept inside. Thankfully, Bloodstream only detected Elixirs inside

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

across the

to a graphic representation of the possession process. A drop of blood

to let the lifeblood out, and Bloodstream was born

a virus and 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 copies share his powers and form

will fear him?” The boastful Genome slouched on his chair. “This is

droplet. Each time we ambush a clone, I will incinerate it and Stitch will sterilize the

is a pack of his own,” the Cossack

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

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

across Italy in an irregular pattern and never stays in the same place for long, but they were last sighted near the

must pursue Bloodstream relentlessly and keep

have any limit?” Ace turned to face Stitch. “Did you finish examining the

“I was waiting for this meeting

gathered in one place for debriefings or large operations. This structure allowed each member a great deal of flexibility, and made the group highly resilient. Members might die, but someone would always survive to

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. Neither can

mumbo-jumbo then?” Mr. Wave asked.

Plague,” Ace agreed

manage a few clones at a time, with a highest recorded peak of ten doubles. If they break that limit, the clones start absorbing each other

Stitch raised his hand.

“Yes, Stitch?”

respect,” the doctor coughed. “You

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

boathouse trembled, a metal panel falling on the Laika and bouncing off its hull. The Genius stumbled and lost her grip on her books. Some safely fell on the pier, but her copy of Lenin’s The State and Revolution sank into the pond, to

answer. A smell of smoke and flames came

with a backpack

he

catching his breath.

worst fear had come

explosion echoed in the distance, like a bombardment. It’s his last body, Len realized in panic. If they kill him now…

books off the floor. “We

“Go? Go where?”

her boyfriend’s eyes, and

“Maybe Dad

tried to kill him, but he had never lost. Her father always came back, always beat the odds. He had fought the Augusti, raiders, and heroes, and

your father can’t beat them all.” Ryan leapt on the sub, carefully moving towards the hatch. “Activate the sub, your dad will catch up to

panic in his voice convinced her. She followed her boyfriend, opening the hatch

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 had taken them days to find a computer to scavenge for

put her books

“I wasn’t careful.”

pause. She interrupted her work

to hide,” Len accused him. “You led

didn’t even

no, he could… he couldn’t

he said, his gaze firm.

hissed, grinding her

don’t flee, he’ll kill us.