The B Gene

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ISBN: 9781543978070

  I have always known about my vivid imagination. I would write short stories, plays and skits as a child. My siblings would be the clay and I would mold them into any character I could conceive in my mind. As a kid I used writing as an escape from the harsh streets of Flint, MI. I would find solace in the characters, the story and the possibility of where I could take them. I used my imagination to give myself a better life on the inside even if the outside looked bleak. I write because of the journey, not the destination. I hope you feel the passion on each page and the fire that burn’s through each character’s soul. This is my take on what’s to come in 2025. Some may say it’s farfetched or even crazy. You have to absolutely wonder what’s in store for us in the future. I thank you for purchasing this book, onward and upward.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: They Woke Us

  Chapter Two: Lanier University

  Chapter Three: Arrival

  Chapter Four: The Student Union

  Chapter Five: They Return

  Chapter Six: Caleb’s Revelation

  Chapter Seven: A Matter of National Security

  Chapter Eight: The Sphere

  Chapter Nine: Hunted

  Chapter Ten: The Light in the Tunnel

  Chapter Eleven: The Lottery

  Chapter Twelve: The Escape

  Chapter Thirteen: Let’s Hitch

  Chapter Fourteen: The Power Source

  Chapter Fifteen: One Million Delivered

  Chapter Sixteen: The Lottery

  Chapter Seventeen: The Obscure Object

  Chapter Eighteen: Caleb’s Assault

  Chapter Nineteen: Bridge to Nowhere

  Chapter One:

  They Woke Us

  The room was small, the walls painted a deep red. Caleb plastered the walls with inspiration from those he revered. There were a few Lebron James posters on each wall. A t-shirt hangs on the chair nearby, featuring one of his favorite quotes.

  “Nah.” - Rosa Parks

  High-end sneakers rested on different displays throughout the room, strategically organized by color, and the year they were made. In one of the boxes, a vintage pair of 1985 Nikes were neatly tucked away, the price tag still attached. His aged mahogany desk sat in the corner of the room, stacked with neat piles of comic books. On top of those was Caleb’s 2025 acceptance letter to HBCU Lanier Brown University, but he wasn’t focused on that right now.

  Caleb was a sixteen-year-old boy, destined for success. He could be doing a million other things right now, but for leisure, he lay under his sheets to block out the light, scanning through a book on aggressive animals of the wild while using his phone as a flashlight. His focus is locked in as he gingerly turns each page, anxiousness and excitement flooding through him with every new fact he finds. A sharp hunger pain hits deep in his stomach. Reluctantly, Caleb crawls out from under the sheets, and his feet hit the floor.

  He simply looks up to the ceiling for a moment, trying to pull his thoughts away from those pages. Caleb slips on his favorite blue gym shorts as an audible growl escapes from his belly.

  “I’m going, I’m going. Geeze.” He whispers to himself lowly, reaching for the door.

  Regardless of the kitchen being close to his room, Caleb creeps slowly across the floor in an effort to not wake his father. If he could hush the low squeak of the refrigerator door opening, he would. Caleb scanned the full shelves for a moment before grabbing his leftovers, tossing them in the microwave, and pressing the express button.

  Caleb leans against the counter, his arms folded, his mind wondering about the predatory habits of ocelots that he’ll reach on page four forty-one. A gentle brush glides across his leg, startling him slightly.

  “It’s just you,” he whispers, leaning down towards his cat, Suzy Q. Caleb begins to rub her head, hearing a low purr escape. “You like that, girl?”

  The microwave buzzes, and Suzy Q quickly darts off. “I know, it scared me too,” Caleb whispers. Retrieving his leftover Thai food from the microwave, he reaches into the nearby cabinet to find his jar of secret sauce, when a shaft of white light penetrates the crack beneath the back door nearby. Before he can come up with rationale for his actions, he moves towards it.

  With trepidation, he slowly approaches the door, the white light remaining persistent. He looks through the peephole: nobody’s there, but the light still remains. With no visible threat in sight, Caleb gently unlocks the door, but as he turns the knob, the light vanishes. Caleb stares out into the open air, noting a radiating glow playing on the top of his neighbor’s pool. Curiosity sparks through him, and he steps out onto the small patio, glancing around the quiet property.

  There’s a tension in the air that he can’t quite place. Humidity seeps into his skin, causing sweat to build beneath his brow, turning cold at the rattling sound of the gate near the back of their property. It’s shaking without any wind, the gate flying off its hinges and landing on the grass.

  Caleb approaches the gate, looking for any discernible reason that it would have blown off like that. He hoped that the hinge was simply loose, but after kneeling down to inspect it, bright light surrounds him, blinding him.

  What the hell? Caleb raises his forearm to shield his eyes, rising and stepping through the gate.

  That gate leads to a narrow, shared alleyway between a few other buildings, creating the perfect channel for the bright light to focus. It’s blinding, sourced from something at the end of the alleyway. A low hum escapes the source; it’s melodic and mesmerizing, rhythmic and delicate all at once, intriguing him to no end.

  What am I doing? Caleb measures his steps, walking further, his heart beating from his chest. With one deep breath, he feels that tension in the air turn into something menacing. He tries to turn back down the alley, but he can’t. A debilitating current charges through his body, and the light abruptly vanishes, leaving Caleb alone in the aftermath. Everything is void of sound, and his feet feel heavy as cinder blocks, keeping him stuck right where he is. All he can hear are the intense thumps of his heartbeat.

  That light now appears behind him, its heat radiating at his fingertips. A warming sensation fills his body as the melodic humming returns, and the harsh truth hits him: he’s paralyzed in this moment.

  Sweat beads from his forehead, staining the concrete below. In one quick motion, Caleb’s shirt is violently ripped from his body as the humming sends a delicate vibration through his back. His body quivers, his hands coiling into white-knuckled fists by his sides. Everything feels like it’s fading, as if he’s slipping away. The white light and humming grows closer, louder, stronger in his presence, reaching mere inches from his body.

  Caleb remains numb and speechless, desperately reaching within himself to pull out some sound, a cry for help, anything he can muster. The dark pigment from his skin extracts. The light becomes stronger and more lively around him, forcing particles of his pigment to float loosely within

  itself before eventually dissolving away.

  “Caleb!” His father, Mr. Prescott shouts from the distance. It sounds like an echo from a million miles away, and yet somehow pulls him back out of this trance.

  Caleb collapses to the ground below, his blurry vision focused on the gateway that he entered from, his home painting a backdrop behind it. Mr. Prescott rushes towards him.

  “Caleb! Caleb! Son, are y
ou okay?” Caleb shakes away his crippling daze.

  “I’m fine, I just needed a bit of air.” He responds shakily.

  “Are you sure?” Mr. Prescott asks, curiously glancing around the alley before ushering them along.

  They walk away, Mr. Prescott invoking a few obscenities while they go. They return home, and Caleb looks to the patio boards first, then to the sky. He takes a few guided steps inside, thinking back to the light on his back. That burning sensation crawled up the flesh of his back, as if he were reliving it. One look in the mirror, and Caleb found the pigment from his back completely gone, leaving spotty and pale skin in its wake.

  Chapter Two:

  Lanier University

  Years after Caleb’s encounter with the burning light, it was finally time to live the dream. He’d learned just about everything anyone could ever hope to know about HBCU Lanier Brown University. Caleb could tell you that it was built on a deserted navy base about forty miles north of the White House, that in the late 1930’s, the FBI was rumored to have used it as a second home to develop cutting-edge technology.

  Lanier was in the heart of Connor, Washington, a college town with a population of 100,000. While the university is small, it was growing rapidly, attracting some 20,000 students from across the globe, most of which were African-American. Every student that arrived on the doorsteps of Lanier felt a sense of pride, a sense of belonging. They were equally excited to be a part of the legacy of one of the most historic black colleges in America, though the humidity in this 88’ degree day attempted to stifle their elation.

  They all begin to exit their chaperoned vehicles, each smiling with excitement, heads filled with thoughts of how they would positively impact the world. Excitement came with worry; the fear of something new, the change that it brings. The university’s colorful logo was emblazoned on their backpacks and laptop cases, their shirts and hats, matching the bright turn of autumn leaves all around them, covering the streets and sidewalks.

  Parents begin to exit their cars, bright-eyed and filled with pride, lugging along their teen’s suitcases. They could easily make out the returning class, a group of male students glaring and taunting the “new meat” to the school with hand gestures to the crotch.

  Members of the prominent PHI Delta fraternity parade down the sidewalk in unison, stomping and chanting to the rhythm of the song on the nearby loudspeaker system.

  A green sedan pulls out in from of Targart hall, where students with the most elite academic scores reside. Targart showcases lavished furnishings accompanied by every amenity known to man. Large bedrooms, bathrooms and living quarters, elegant designs along the ceilings that are nearly 100 years old.

  That sedan pulls up right in front of the main entrance, and the passenger door swings wide open. A pair of orange Nikes hit the pavement, as a blaring voice lifts, echoing throughout the front hall. “We’re here!”

  Caleb stands in the path leading to the main entrance, headphones around his neck, and an athletic sling-style backpack thrown over one shoulder. In this moment, he feels nothing but pride. Caleb touches the back of his neck over a tattoo, a simple design of the numbers 1600, a gift from his father for the hard work that all led to this day. His brown eyes dart from building to building, taking in the architecture and careful construction of every aesthetic element.

  “Yes!” Caleb says, filled with excitement. His head curiously pokes back through the opened passenger window. “Dad, this is where I belong.”

  Mr. Prescott turns towards his son. “Cal, you are the third in a line of Prescott men to attend an HBCU.”

  Caleb opens the door and hops back into the passenger seat, barely able to contain his elation. “Dad, I know. Who would have thought, me attending an HBCU?”

  “It’s not too far-fetched, son. It’s not every day one gets to decline an invite from Harvard.”

  With both hands, Caleb cradles his father’s anxiety-stricken face. “Dad, you don’t get it.”

  Mr. Prescott respond with a warm smile, his hand laying on his son’s shoulder. “Cal, you have a purpose.”

  “I get it, Dad.” Caleb could feel another one of his father’s cautionary talks approaching. “I get it. I promise: no partying, only studying.”

  “Yeah right!” Jaylen Mclean shouts from the backseat, startling the two of them. “Look Mr. Prescott, we fought tooth and nail to get here. Let’s say we let our hair down.” Mr. Prescott disappointingly yields his attention at Jaylen. “What? Go with the flow. Facts.”

  “Jaylen, get out of my car.” Mr. Prescott says very matter-of-fact.

  “I’m out,” he chuckled, pulling on the door lever.

  Caleb and Jaylen have been best friends for fifteen years. While they were both smart as a whip, they each had vastly different personalities. Jaylen had the stunning attributes that always seemed to make the ladies swoon: smooth dark skin, light chocolate-colored eyes, and a seemingly perfect head of hair that he always kept in check. While Caleb wanted to make his father happy, he also admired Jaylen’s sarcasm, even if it means always getting the last word, which would land him in trouble. Jaylen drags his suitcase from the backseat, pops his earbuds in, and slams the door shut.

  “Dad, I’ll be okay.” Caleb says calmly.

  Mr. Prescott peers around Caleb, looking to Jaylen dancing on the sidewalk. “It’s not you I’m worried about, son. Call if you need anything.”

  “Of course Dad, you got me.”

  Caleb embraces his father. Mr. Prescott’s eyes close, remembering the exact same moment he shared with his father twenty-five years ago.

  “I love you, Cal.”

  “Dad, I know, I know.” Caleb quickly releases his grip, and takes a deep breath before exiting the car. After exiting, he feels a heaviness in his lungs as he walks away. His shoulders slump, and he turns back to look at his father. Mr. Prescott can’t seem to look away. Caleb holds his emotions intact, waving as the green sedan exits the parking lot.

  “You smell that, Cal?” Jaylen says, his hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

  Caleb puts his nostrils to the sky, searching for a scent. “I don’t smell anything,” he replies.

  “Freedom bro. Complete freedom.” Jaylen nudges him on the shoulder, and within seconds, Caleb’s phone starts to ring.

  He quickly looks at the caller ID, and rolls his eyes. After a deep exhale, he picks it up. “Hey Grandma. I’m safe at school.”

  “Are you watching the news?” She asks rather abruptly.

  “No Granny, we just got to campus.” Caleb motions towards Jaylen to grab the bags and approaches the entrance.

  “Turn on the news. Now.”

  “Granny, why you bugging?”

  “Because the devil is at work,” she says, her voice panic-stricken and heightened. “And we are all targets.”

  Caleb sighs, preparing to try and sound as nice as possible.

  “Calm down, Granny. The reception is bad.” He tries to replicate a high-pitched buzzing sound with his voice. “I’m heading into a tunnel. Hello? I’ll call you later.”

  “Caleb Vincent Prescott, don’t play with me.” Caleb quickly ends the call, and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

  “Now you’re learning,” chuckles Jaylen.

  After a moment of orienting themselves with the entryway, they find themselves in a deserted hallway. Bags draped over their shoulders and suitcases rolling behind them, they begin to wonder where everyone’s gone off to. When they locate room 3906, Caleb reaches into his pocket for the key.

  “I think this is it.” He says.

  “This better be it,” Jaylen plops his bags on the floor. “I’m not going any further bro.”

  Caleb finds the key and unlocks the door. As they enter, their eyes widen in amazement: high ceilings, wall-to-wall plush furniture, and a full 180’ degree view of the whole campus.

  They quickly shut the door behind them, ecstatic to explore and enjoy their new dorm. Jaylen immed
iately rushes towards the fridge, opening it up to find his favorite foods stuffed inside. Cookies, juice, candies and pastries, basically anything made of sugar.

  “You see Cal, this is why 1600 matters.”

  “Last time I checked, you got a 1500.” Caleb points out.

  “Close enough. We living the life.”

  Caleb approaches the massive windows. “This beats living in Baltimore any day.” He quickly noticed several students outside, headed towards the meet and greet near the student union. “We should probably go to that.”

  Jaylen makes a dash for his bed in the adjacent room, leaping in like his high school track star days. “I’m in for the night. Can we order in?”

  “This isn’t a hotel, Jay.”

  “Aww, go screw yourself.”

  Caleb glances out the windows towards the sky. Heavy clouds flood the blue heavens as grim darkness shadows over the university. Where did that storm come from? Caleb thinks, distinctly remembering the clear and sunny forecast when he checked this morning.

  There’s a knock at the door, startling Caleb out of his thoughts. It bursts open as a girl rushes into the room. Caleb notices her unique style: an orange turtle neck, leggings, and jet black hair hanging over to one side, and a state-of-the-art camera slung around her neck. That smile could light up the room. She snaps a picture of the lavish accommodations around her, not even looking in his direction.

  “This room is badass,” she proclaims. “Who would have thought that an HBCU had it going on like this?” Her perfume dances across the room, enticing Caleb. He rocks back and forth to calm his gitty demeanor. He turns, conjuring up a smile.

  “Bree, I see you’ve made it.” He can’t help but fixate on her tight leggings and flawless chocolate skin as his heartbeat elevates. He thinks back to the first time he laid eyes on her in elementary school.

  “Yes. My mom is a horrible driver. Did you hear that the president of the university is withdrawing from the board? That would make a great headline.”