A H.E.R.O.S PROJECT 12

Log 7

We don't know what to make of the Bondite containment pod, and its seals, but we solve the locks. I am alone in a square room lightened for recording, whether favor is on my side or today will be my last. I feel an incredible amount of guilt doing what I must away from my daughters. I promise myself an early gift if events are successful and book a date to visit them.

The video begins recording...

Video: "Hello. I am Dr. Xander Lefitz Odar. It is February 2, 2017." Xander turns to read his watch. "Exactly 1:38 a.m. After much deliberation with my fellow workman," he slides the camera to a blonde pixie haired woman in the left corner. Danny is dressed casual in blue jeans and a white tank top. The only indication she is helping lies in her hands. A single glove and a notepad. 

Nothing has been written yet, but she is prepared to work hastily and or shoot Xander if things go badly. A shotgun is hung on a wall to her right and she has sworn to kill before the worst occurs.

Danny has killed hundreds in her lifetime, but she considers Xander a friend, and to see life flare from his brown eyes-it's too much for her to consider. She waves, combing dirty blonde strands from her face.

"Danny Folson is my medkit." Xander taps a tube where Danny last gave him her blood.

"I feel like I'm rushing." Dr. Xander sucks in a heavy breath and steadies himself back a few practiced rolls in his wheelchair. Xander knows where he wants to bond and has been preparing for this moment for far too long in his head. 

Today, today it will happen.

"The container," Xander whispers to Danny. She obliges, going to a dented desk beside his bed. There it is, Number One's pod. Honestly, nothing could be inside. Or it could be another experiment, one that should have never been discovered, or opened today.

Numbers, numbers, numbers. Outcomes, outcomes, outcomes.

"Here you go, doctor." Danny practically hurdles the containment pod at him. She hurries to her post and gun. What has she gotten herself into? Does she really want her old job back?

The gun is loaded, Danny reminds herself, "Get on with it Xander!"

Dr. Xander agrees, focusing on the camera. "This, you see is Number One! This vessel contains a poorly misfortunate gift Doctor David Levine has buried. The subject has healing capabilities, can cure diseases and terminal outcomes for those...like myself."

Xander wheels in his chair, displaying his handicap.

"I have been diagnosed with ALS, the root of my impairment, a biological ticking time bomb that will ultimately kill me before my daughters become women. Before, I see my first grandchild. After months of research, debating with my board of foolish trustees, I have taken the Bondite and will perform an attachment procedure tonight."

A snap of his fingers, the signal for Danny, Xander unhinges the lid and places the containment pod on the floor before him. He knows not to drag Number One from its home, since One is alive and most likely tired from being trapped for so long.

With a tap of his knuckles, Xander sees to waking it up.

The clock has started.

And started. And started. And started.

"Doctor?" Danny pries, sitting on a desk. The situation is apparent. They have failed. "Xander, I think it died? Something should be happening."

"No, no." Xander knocks the pod again and rolls to his dreamt changing spot. "Bondite is a living substance that doesn't require the amenities we need for survival. Just a host to manifest with. Number One might be," he considers, removing his muggy glasses, "it might be sleeping. I should have guessed that. I was in such a hurry to-"