Dead Transfer

Time was of the utmost importance for the group of students in the on-campus laboratory located Sub-Basement 2 of McKinley Hall. If one were to walk into the lab filled of machines and surgical equipment, they would have felt the claustrophobic pressure rising from each of student.

They had eight hours left to present their project that would make-or-break their chance of not only achieving top-of-the-class Penheart Novelty Award for Excellence, but would gain the opportunity of entering it into regional competition, with an award of $50,000 in scholarships. It might seem chump change after everything has been divided by five, but $10,000 shaved off a tuition makes for a nice cut.

Gary, hunched over the restrained participant, Lenny, cuffed into a chair that looked so archaic in design that it resembled an old-fashioned electric chair from a B-Horror Vincent Price flick. Crowned with a metal strip on Lenny’s head, from which wires snaked to other machines, to others it may seem that they were engaging in a homebrew execution of sorts. That was far from it.

Maggie looked in at them from the control board, monitoring diagnostics on both Lenny’s health and the functioning of the machinery.

Ron was at the chalkboard, collecting data via clipboard he would later use to finish crunching his 23 (out of 25) page report due the same time as the project.

The chair on which Lenny sat, notably called The Conductor, was a conduit where energy (collected from a recharged dead source) would run into the receptor, Lenny, from which his mind would be kickstarted toward a more clarified conscience, thereby opening a gateway for outside knowledge to filter in. Basically, it was a machine that could make controlled telepathy not only a possibility, but hopefully a constant.

Gary was the mastermind behind the idea. Got it when watching one of those FBI shows about super geniuses who, with heightened intelligence, could read others minds and were later turned into superspies. While that never happen in real life, such an accomplishment would look pretty spiffy on a resume.

That’s if it worked...

Their past fourteen attempts led in failure. From either computer crashes, to one of the specimens catching fire, to a blackout that lasted 2 hours. Gary felt it was the specimens they were using for the experiment that caused repeated failures.

They could not legally take live specimens, even lab rats, because it was ethically unsound and the amount of paperwork needed would have been too exhaustive. Clearance would have transcended the deadline. They, instead, took the dumpster-diving route of using dead specimens discarded by the other labs and administering an electrical charge large enough to draw a boost for just enough energy to have a successful transference to Lenny.

The problem was that the specimens were random pickings. Nobody knew what type of conditions the specimens were put to death under and the general anatomical makeup was not the same as a human’s.

They were about to throw in the towel last week, when the fifth participant, Reed, came up with an idea he found brilliant, but kept it under total secrecy.

Two days ago was the last time anyone has seen Reed. They would normally worry, but it was natural for him to make off for a few days anyways. Yet, still… Gary remembered how the gleam in Reed’s eyes warranted some worry about the possibility that Reed may have engaged himself in something that would have brought him through the deep end.

The double-doors boomed!

Everyone jolted, including the detained Lenny.

The squeaky sounds of wheels raced down the lab.

Reed pushed a gurney toward them. Hefting for air. “Got it!”

Taken aback, Gary snapped, “Got what?”

Reed a brow, patting the lumpy mass hidden under a white blank, “The solution to all of our problems. The key piece to the puzzle that everyone has overlooked. Either because they were too chicken-shit to do anything, or not as clever as I. I would go with the former, because, frankly, we wouldn’t be standing here underground at two a.m. if it weren’t for the fact that we were the brightest crayons in the box. ”

Gary approached Reed, and reached for the blanket, “Just get to the chase.”

“Fine!” Reed had to go into a theatrical explanation with every subject under the sun. “So remember earlier this week when we painted ourselves into a brick wall about looking for a specimen that would best accommodate our project?” Reed saw heads nod but not a verbal response enunciated. “Well, I twirled about the old noodle and came up with the most damningly ingenious idea! I contacted a couple of correspondents and subtly informed them about our dilemma. Basically, I told them we're at a stump in a project and need something substantially sound. So, after a couple of shoulders were rubbed, I’ve attained what you clearly see before your very eyes: our winning shot to regional!”

As a magician, Reed drew back the shawl to produce a glassy-eyed corpse, stiffened jaw opened to expose a dark hollow from where rotten air leaked, shaggy dark hair, and skin turned gangrene. Black staples joined together the once-gutted skin of the cadaver, as if it went through former autopsy. The repugnant smell caused Gary to revolt. Maggie screamed.

“What the fuck!” shouted Lenny from the chair.

Ron continued crunching numbers with little attention to the abnormality in the room, as if a decomposing elephant in the room was an everyday commonality to him.

Reed looked to-and-fro. “Now, guys, you think we may just be overreacting a tad. You all act as if you’ve never seen a dead man.”

Lenny quibbled, “That’s because you’ve got one standing not ten feet away from me!!!”

Reed, showered with insult, took the defense. “Get a grips of yourself, Lenny. Corpses do not stand… They lay…”

Gary intervened, “Lay… stand… Clearly nobody gives a flying rat’s ass… Where did you get it from?”

“Where else but from the Dawner Hills Sanitorium.”

A wave of energy flowed through the room by the very name, sending shivers up everyone's skin. Except, of course, for Reed and Ron.

“You mean you got some whacko to use as a specimen??” snapped Lenny. He went to unbuckle himself. “Game Over on this, man. I can live with an A-minus!”

Reed snapped. “We needed a human specimen. Not an ounce of homicidal blood is found in either one of our bodies, so murder can be scratched out! I didn’t have the heart to take some old codger from a funeral home. You can strike out grave-digging, too, because the bodies are too decomposed and I can honestly say formaldehyde would do more damage to our experiment! So, I figured the next best thing… Slip out a body from the sanitorium… You know a great deal of them go to potter’s field anyway. And they don’t get the last-minute-freshening treatment for showcasing to dear ones… So, here it stands as rested.”

Gary scratched his head. “Couldn’t you have at least gotten a fresher corpse?”

“Do you have three g’s to throw around on a whim? I got what I could for two-hundred bucks, and they gave me a bargain… I would have only gotten a nose and a tongue for that much in any other black market…”

Gary took a moment to ponder. He didn’t know how they could possibly explain to people that they used a corpse for the project. It would be a fundamental component, if it worked. They could mask it, however, and say that they used the usual fodder they have been using. That would rule out any chances other people stealing their idea. It was too risky, but maybe it was a risk worth taking. “We're strapping you back in, Lenny.”

“You can’t be serious!” Lenny argued. “You don’t know what may come of this!”

Gary shot him a look to kill. “Do it, or I'll make certain you end this semester with a B.”

Lenny huffed and shuffled into the chair.

Reed excitably snickered and wheeled the gurney to The Detractor machine, a similar machine in design, except for the fact that the specimen be lain on a table and that the crown needed to be designed for the cranial shape of the cadaver. Nothing a ten-minute fix won’t do.

* * *

What took half an hour to make proper set up, Gary, standing on the platform looking down to the lab, gave the orders. “Maggie, engage sequencing!”

Ron stood back, noting every step of the operation, skipped the inclusion of the human cadaver and replaced it with a rodent specimen.

A bright light of blue shot from the machinery, producing a strobe-like effect.

Maggie studied the diagnostics. “Everything looks solid so far!”

Her confidence was severed when, in a flash, sparks erupted from the corpse, arms wiggling and flopping about like bacon on a greased pan. A whirring sound erupted, piercing everyone’s ears, as an explosion erupted from one of the supercomputers. The cadaver combusted in flames, the stench of burnt flesh and hair emitting from it.

The room darkened, save for the emergency exit sign, and the computers blacked out.

“Damn it to all hell!” Gary’s voice trailed in the gloom.

Maggie and Reed rushed to Lenny, slumped in the chair. Frantically, Reed pried off the hot-to-the-touch straps and removed the even-more-so-scalding dome. Lenny spilled into their arms, a smoky-charred mess.

Tears rolled down Maggie’s eyes as she thought to herself ‘Please let him be okay’.

Reed thought ‘Idiot I was… I knew it wouldn’t work…”

Gary thought ‘How am I to explain two corpses?’

Ron tinkered at the clipboard ‘raise the product by point-two but decrease voltage at 72.3 decibels.’

Lenny coughed out, “I’m fine! Quit smothering me with concern!”

Lenny wobbled two steps, head pounding.

Gary stated, “We didn’t ask you anything.”

“Like hell you did… Worrying only about yourself, what would happen if there were ‘two corpses’ on your hands.” Lenny shot a glance at Reed, “You’re right, Reed, you are an idiot…”

“It worked...” Gary gasped, both hands before his mouth, then triumphantly claimed, “We've finally invented something that worked!”

“What are you getting at?” Lenny rested his body against a table.

“The telepathy!” Gary said, “You heard our thoughts!”

“Whatever man… I get injured and you guys wanna pull pranks.”

He looked over to Maggie who thought. ‘It must be true…’

'No shit?' Lenny thought. “Reed, quick! Think something up. Anything!” Reed hesitated before Lenny said, “Hell yeah! I got the hots for your sister!”

“I’m gonna kill you!” Reed said, playfully pulling up his fist.

Ron remained notating everything.

Lenny patted himself, “Well, I feel like a million bucks. Think a round of drinks on me is in order. Ron--don’t jot that down!”

For the first time in ages Ron produced a grin, and nodded.

“Anyone knows a place open this hour?” Maggie asked.

Reed added, “I know this dive about twenty minutes outta town.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve corpses, I’m in.” Gary said, which gained laughter from the rest of the crowd.

Lenny suddenly stopped. Dark, menacing, laughter sounded in his head. An army of voices from deep within chanted. His eyes darted toward the charred corpse that looked through hollow sockets in scathing accusation. Lenny didn't feel himself, as if some outside presence was taking over him.

From nowhere, a black figure emerged behind Maggie.

Lenny pointed, “Maggie, behind you!”

Maggie looked around, saw nothing. The tip of a blade slipped through Maggie’s midriff, blood sprayed out of her.

Without a beat, Gary’s neck was gashed.

Ron looked up from the clipboard to see not a spectral force attacking people, but Lenny hunched over Reed’s body, jabbing him repeatedly with a bloodied scalpel.

The final image Ron saw--before his life was snatched from him--was Lenny’s maniacal grin, as he charged toward Ron like an unstoppable killing machine. A silver scalpel in his hand.