Jungle of Creation

She watches the wench and her savior go, racing out of the compound. Her hair is frizzy and the blonde strands are haphazard, but—for once—she doesn’t care. There are more important things at stake.

Some sniveling doofus offers a grimy hand to her to help her onto her feet. As if. Ignoring the outstretched hand, she swiftly gets to her feet and brushes herself off. Her poor red pantsuit was just laundered the other day, but now it has smudges of dirt here and there. It is a shame, but she never has to deal with such things for long. Her only regret is that her subordinates are witnessing her in such a state of disarray.

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply as she runs her fingers through her loose curls. Flashes of teeth, slobber, snarls. That black beast almost took a chunk out of her slender neck. That wretched girl almost slashed up her face, marred her smooth features. If this, Amira Denton, thinks she’ll get an ounce of pity or forgiveness for sparing her, then she couldn’t be more wrong. The same goes for that treacherous serpent. Cody, was it? No one crosses the director of Selva da Criação Incorporated and gets away with it.

Opening her eyes, she snaps her fingers to call any lackey over to her. Someone that she may or may not have seen before hurriedly steps up to her. There’s fear and hesitation in his eyes, but she couldn’t care less.

“Get Howard.” The bark is short and sweet. Without the sweet. Anything like that is far too many calories for her figure anyway. She doesn’t even put in the effort to glance at the young man as he scurries away. There’s too much planning to do for her to even give a semblance of caring.

This development will definitely put a wrench in things. Not only is Subject 001 gone, but Subject 002 is the one who freed her. Miranda almost couldn’t believe her eyes when the Faller girl had stepped out of the locked room and gave herself up. She almost couldn’t believe it. Of course, she had been naive and had bought the reuse splendidly. Big mistake. One that won’t be made again. Mistakes mean failure, and failure is unacceptable.

“Director Kline. What has happened?” Dr. Howard approaches her, hesitancy in his every step. He tried to challenge her once, but a good threat is almost always enough to force someone into submission. Ever since then, Howard has been with her for every step of this process.

“Come, Howard. This is not something to be discussed here.” Dr. Howard is essentially the only person Miranda would trust with any of her dirty little secrets. He is her best scientist and doctor, and he’s headed most of the research at the facility. The other scientists know to stay out of the way and busy, so Howard is really the only one she comes in direct contact with.

She and Howard quickly make their way through the winding halls until they come to the main research lab, which is completely empty at this time of morning. The area is wide and spacious, lined with practical wood desks. Various beakers, test tubes, vials, and containers filled with all sorts of materials are lined along the surfaces and along the shelves built into the standard white walls. The room is built for efficiency, not style. Her workers can hire a home decorator on their free time if they want something aesthetically pleasing.

Howard and Miranda automatically work their way to the back of the room, where a single wired phone resides. Finally moving her gaze to the doctor, she speaks in a sharp tone, “The two subjects escaped, along with your little prodigy, Speedy, or whatever his name happened to be. I expect your team to work twice as hard with the samples from the mother that you already have. We will not fall behind schedule because of this.” Howard nods swiftly but doesn’t dare speak. He knows better.

Miranda moves to dial the number to inform S.C.’s partner of the news. Turning to Howard before she answers, Miranda sternly dismisses him. She’s had her chat with him, and now it’s time for her chat with the corporation’s partner.

Lips pressed in a firm line, Miranda talks into the phone. “Hello… Yes, this is she. I wish I were calling under better circumstances, but there has been a situation… The two subjects escaped. With help, I may add… Yes… You promised he would not be an issue… It is not my problem to deal with. It is yours… Yes. Continue as usual… So I can count on your support in the search for them?... Splendid.” She hangs up immediately, not giving the other caller the chance. It is not an issue. They’re used to it at this point.

The call went better than expected, especially since a certain someone is involved. She will leave how to handle the betrayal to her partner, though the situation incenses her severely. The subjects, though, are another problem altogether. Their cooperation was once needed, but they made it clear that their blood would have to do. It makes no difference to her. The mother and daughter are simply a couple of animals parading as humans. Miranda makes a mental note to keep an eye on the little sister too. She hasn’t shown any signs, but neither did the other Faller brat until recently.

Running from the corporation will become their greatest vice. She distantly remembers them stealing away with the fire powered girl, as well. The lead suspect. Of course, all the high clearance agents knew she wasn’t the killer. She was just the poor sap that had to take the fall, that had to be framed. No one wanted the true killer discovered, though now Miranda regrets that choice.

No matter. The fire girl is of no consequence. She will be useful dead or alive. The two prime subjects, however, will be trickier to catch. The agency needs their blood, and their partner needs it too. It will be a challenge. It is a good thing Miranda has always enjoyed challenges. The Fallers will rue the day they rose against such a force. This is war.