Chapter Twelve

Five Months Ago

The night cast a murky shade over the downtown area. Jack Hanover scaled the silhouetted city skyline after his mentor.

"Sensei!"

He got to the top of the tenement. Jack reached up to the corner of the wall he was climbing, grabbed a good hold, and pulled himself up to the roof. Jack rolled over the edge and sprawled out, gasping, trying to get his breath back. Sensei was on his feet next to him, bouncing back and forth between his right and left legs. He snapped into a sprint across the span of the rooftop. When he reached the other side's edge, his pace maintained its haste. The Sensei leapt into the spread of empty space above the alleyway. He pointed his right foot out, almost like a kick, as his momentum carried him over. With the tucking of his shoulder, the Sensei rolled safely onto the next building. He came back around to his feet and turned back for Jack.

Jack was speechless. It had to be some forty or fifty feet across. Sensei waved his hand for Jack to follow him. He peered down at the alley gap and back at his mentor. Jack back-peddled himself over to the far corner, where Sensei started his run. He took a deep breath, closes his eyes, and remembered his training. Visualize the landing, attack the jump.

Jack opened his eyes and moved forward into a dead sprint. He ran as though the reaper himself was nipping at his heels. He reached the edge and unlike the Sensei, Jack had a brief moment of doubt. Although auto corrected by his stride directly after the hesitation, his momentum was thrown off balance as he flew into the air.

Gravity took Jack and pulled his body down, slamming his side into the corner of the next building over. He was winded and couldn't concentrate on grabbing a hold. He slipped off the edge and was grabbed by his Sensei who lunged over the side after him. He pulled them both up. Jack tried to get to his feet, after being saved by his mentor. He could feel his ribs were cracked. Each one, starting from the bottom, snapped itself back into place. He really felt it each time. The healing inside him was not natural nor was it pleasant. It was random and specific, as if it had a mind of its own.

Jack had no doubt in his mind that the Divine Catalyst was inside of him. He had been thinking about it ever since his return from Afghanistan. He was the plant now. An infinite source of healing. Did that mean he could heal others? What was the extent of its power? Jack bounced back up and brushed his shoulders off. He ran across the rooftop and jumped before looking at the next building over. His feet left the roof and crossed into the empty alleyway space. Ahead of Jack was brick, a wide wall spanning twenty stories over Jack's head. He cringed, closed his eyes, and braced himself with a shot of shiver. In his mind he went back to his visualization of the jump, landing on the rooftop. The impact of the brick wall shocked Jack back into the moment. The pain shook out but the impact was no longer there.

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The momentum shifts in a direction unfamiliar with his path. Matter pressing under the soles of his feet. Jack opened his eyes and found himself on the roof of the twenty-one story building. He fell to his knees. The air in his chest was lost. Jack panicked and blacked out. He woke up screaming, a concrete wall going through his shoulder. The pain was excruciating and in its blistering degree showed Jack control. He cringed, closed his eyes again, and launched himself into the alleyway.

There a man was being beaten up. Splashing around in a dirty puddle along with the kicking legs of his three attackers. Gang related violence, it was clear. Why is it up to Jack to prevent this? They are rats, separate two from fighting and they will just go on to steal. He felt no compassion for these thugs. They were no different from the scum he fought against in Afghanistan. Same criminal, different country. Jack felt another cringe come on. This one was stronger than before, almost like it was crescendoing. Oh no. He would not be able to stop it at the rate it's growing more powerful. This was not some feeling of awkwardness, this was more power from the Divine Catalyst building up inside him. It was too hard trying to prevent it, he just had to let it take him over, and that it did. The sensation took complete control of Jack and changed locations. He left the alleyway, and the beaten up man was left unconscious. His face submerged in the puddle, his body carved out.

Jack's placing shifts, moving him entirely.

He gathered and was falling down a building side. Clawing at the rising river of brick, looking for a grip. The floor rushed towards him, about to gobble him up before he felt the cringe crawl up his spine and explode across his skin until reaching his fingertips and toes. Instead of the cold hard alleyway floor, he landed safely on his bed in his apartment. Dr. Randolph was just getting in.

He took off his trench-coat and walked over to his desk, placing a folder next to his computer. Jack caught his breath on the bed, mumbling, "I can teleport." And then got himself up to greet his friend, returning after almost three weeks of being away. When he stood up, Dr. Randolph was facing him, a grave look on his face.

"What's the matter, Doc?"

"I went home to Oklahoma to get the results of your tests. I had to be careful. As you know we did not have the proper-"

Jack grabbed him and asked, "Did you see my family? Did you see my wife?"

"Yes I did. They're fine."

"Thank god," Jack released the kind Doctor and he went on.

"The results of the tests-"

"No bullshit. Just give it to me straight, Doc."

"Well?"

The Doctor paused to find the right words.

"You're dying."