Rain spits at the window of my car as I slowly wind my way through the precarious mountain road. Dark clouds hang overhead, the daunting darkness peaking through the trees above and from over the cliff to the right. I practically creep around each of the blind corners, inching my car along the cliffs edge as my sweaty hands grip at the wheel.
"It'll be worth it" I wheeze, flinching as a small set of rocks tumble past from one of the outcropping above me. "It'll be worth it."
The road is old and heavily worn, a mixture of once frequent use turned to disregard and disrepair. Trucks had once rolled along the dangerously slanted and winding asphalt, carting coal up through the mountains from the small town nestled within a rare relatively flat section of land inside the range. Since the mines ran empty decades ago the town had slowly atrophied and rotted away, and yet here I was on my way to move in.
Looking to the passenger seat I glance at the open letter once again, reconfirming just why I had packed up to move out here.
Dear Mr Jordan Hughes,
We hope this letter is finding you well.
We would once again like to express our gratitude in your acceptance of our offer. We understand that this novel from of rural revitalization may not resonate with many, however, we are gladdened to have found someone who is as eager to breath new life into the region as we are.
As discussed, we will require someone of your education and age to ensure that our newly formed college will receive the best in educational staff the world has to offer.
Once you arrive, please report to the visitor center to receive your final assignment. Please understand that the process of finding one's assignment takes time, and we may not be able to inform you of what you will be doing prior to your arrival.
Once again, thank you for your support in this endeavor.
Yours faithfully,
Head Hunters (On Behalf of Devon's Creek Developments)
The first successful head transplant had been a fairly daunting experience, the wait between the procedure and the patient waking up leaving the whole medical world on edge. Dozens of hours went into the procedure, mapping out just which nerves, veins and arteries needed to be severed and reattached in order to give the patient the best chance of survival.
Many argued that it was impossible in the first place, that the rejection would make the whole experiment entirely futile. However, despite the doubt hanging over the procedure the patient woke up and after a brief period of physical therapy could walk and move about on their own.
It was all thanks to the new range of anti-rejection drugs, a highly targeted system that tricked the body into accepting a second set of markers as its own. While the first dosage was relatively pricey and difficult to make, using components of the recipient's own cells to create the drug, form that point on only a simple and cheap booster would be needed to keep the protection going.
While newspapers and news outlets loved the fluff piece, father of three able to lift his children again after terrible car accident, others turned their minds towards other uses of the procedure. One such group was what became known as Devon's Creek Developments, a not-for-profit backed via large sums of private wealth with the sole aim to create a perfect town. Devon's Creek had been chosen for obvious reasons, the immense isolation making it highly unlikely for anyone to simply stumble upon the project as well as making the town worryingly far from the nearest pharmacy that stocked the anti-rejection drugs.
In order to create this dream town the group started from the top, finding key people who would be required in order to make sure services were the best of the best. Doctoral polymaths approaching retirement, Business leaders looking to take a break due to ill-health, or even brilliant researchers either leaving their field to start families or not wishing to pass on their genes. These bright and stunning people would be dragged to the town with a simple promise, a fresh start in a dreamy home up in the mountains.
Next came the more troublesome part, convincing those with the right qualifications and experience to the town who could give up their bodies to those more deserving of that youth or quality. Unemployed academics, troubled students, or those dealing with recent redundancies were easy pickings thanks to the relative high pay or conditions the town could offer. High salaries, free homes, or even promises surrounding family life were all on the table to get the warm bodies they needed for their brilliant chosen few to select from.
Once all was said and done the plan was simple, to simply live and have everyone who had swapped carry on with the life of the body they now found themselves attached to. Not everyone would be swapped of course, the sons and daughters of the funders behind the project would merely get to enjoy the advantages of having access to the best and brightest around town. Others would move in just to be around these chosen few, to revel in seeing their favorite artists or the most brilliant lecturers engaging with the field with a new perspective and lust for life.
I had been contacted by the Head Hunters, the subsidiary designed to track down the right bodies for their primary candidates, only a few weeks ago. They had claimed to be needing someone of my talents, of my experience, and strangely of my physique. A departmental head position had opened up at Devon's Creeks newly founded college, a dream position that I barely felt I even qualified for. However, they had been insistent that I take the position, especially after the required physical. The offer quickly jumped up by thousands, then tens of thousands of dollars.
By the time it reached the mid-six digits I accepted, the pressure making me sick to my stomach but the money being far too good to pass up. I had started packing the same day, more than eager to end my lease and race over to the new stand alone home they promised as part of the package for 'my future family'.
As the road slowly eases into a singular straight line I find myself calming down, the death defying twists and turns soon vanishing from sight in the rear view mirror. Ancient and gnarled tress line the road, thick overgrown grasses hiding the fauna within. My car bounces and rattles down the damaged road, pot holes and divots dotting the poorly maintained path after years of neglect.
I slow my car, turning into a small dirt path by the side of the rotting road as I pull up outside of the small brick building a mile or so from the town proper. Peeling blue paint covers to block of the building, the purely square structure seemingly having been repurposed many times over the years. A tall man stands by the back wall, peeling at the paint as he seemingly mutters to himself under his breath.
Pulling up by the front door, unable to find a real parking space in amongst all the dirt and patches of grass, I slowly clamber out. My back aches and my legs are partially asleep, the hours upon hours in the car taking their toll on my body. Sighing to myself I take a small stretch before heading up to the front door. Try as I might I find it locked, the handle barely turning as i jiggle it impatiently.
"Who is it?" comes a soft spoken voice from beyond the rotting hardwood door, a sweet and delicate tone that struggles to cut through the thick walls surrounding it.
"Jordan, Jordan Hughes?" I state, my tone sounding like a question as I begin to wonder if I was even in the right place. I hear as multiple sets of foot steps begin to pace about behind the door, a loud thunk soon following as the door creaks open slightly.
"Oh goodness, please come in out of that rain" the now far more clear voice coos, the young woman sounding almost concerned as she seemingly beckons me inside.
Pulling the door open I step inside, brushing at my shoulders as I try to remove the drizzle that I had unfortunately had to stand in to get to the front door. As I enter the cramped building I feel something press into the base of my neck, a slight prick followed by a freezing cold sensation oozing out beneath my skin. Before I can even respond the prick slides out from under my flesh, my knees suddenly giving out as I feel a set of hands grapple my arms from either side.
"There we are..." the sweet voice chirps, a short blonde woman standing before me as her face appears shrouded in shadow. "Don't worry Mr Hughes, just start counting back from ten" she continues, placing a mask over my mouth as a small hiss begins to fill the air.
The young woman looks up at one of the two individuals holding me upright, my limbs rapidly growing more and more limp and numbed by the second.
"Don't forget to take a sample for the first dosage" she states, tapping her own neck as if as a manner of instruction. "And please let Dr Summers know we'll be ready for them shortly..." she continues, pulling a small device from her pocket as she begins to read from a dimly lit screen.
"O...kay... Mr Hughes, deep breaths remember" she chuckles, pressing the mask harder against my face. "We'll explain everything soon but in the interim...
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