The Gym

by B. P. Kasik

  “Of course not! It wouldn’t affect my bottom line. We’re independent franchises, not some corporate behemoth.”

  Ben interjected. “Do you have something weird in your basement?”

  The owner grimaced. “That’s something we’d rather not discuss.”

  Jerry pointed at him. “So you’re just as evil as the Gym in our town? Got some dark, sick secret down there?”

  The owner bobbled his head back and forth. “Sick, yes. Dark, I suppose. But it’s no threat. It’s just part of our system. It’s what keeps us going.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the only thing that every Gym is required to keep on their premises. But each Gym is authorized to make its own decisions as to how it’s used!”

  “Damn you, what is it?”

  The Gym owner was silent. “I assure you, it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Is it something that could help us to deal with the other Gym?”

  The Gym owner crossed his arms. “I may handle my Gym differently than some of my peers, but that does not mean that I lack company loyalty. It’s not for me to judge what other Gym owners are doing.”

  “They’re monsters! And whatever you’ve got in the basement is clearly the key to stopping them. Let us see it.”

  The owner licked his lips. “I admit that I would prefer that other Gym owners follow our example and care for their clients…”

  Jerry nodded. “Exactly. Our Gym is not doing a good job serving its clients, or the community.” He looked at Ben, who nodded back at him. “That’s our main concern. Making the Gym experience...a positive one for all involved. Please help us to encourage our Gym to do better.”

  The owner nodded. “Very well. I will allow a brief look at our basement. But you must promise not to divulge its contents to anyone. Ever.”

  Jerry and Ben nodded. “We promise.”

  The owner pulled a paper out of his inside jacket pocket, then a pen from his opposite pocket. “Both of you—sign here.”

  Jerry took the paper and looked it over. It was an incredibly detailed non-disclosure agreement. It had both of their first and last names on it, along with expansive language regarding the information they were about to receive, spending two full paragraphs listing the penalties for violating the agreement. They all involved dismemberment and torture.

  He looked up at the owner. “I thought you weren’t evil.”

  “I’m not, at all! But Gym trade secrets are fiercely protected. And I made a covenant to protect them. Long ago.”

  Ben’s eyebrow went up. “How long ago?”

  The owner shook his head. “That’s not pertinent. Please sign the agreement. In blood.”

  Jerry wasn’t even surprised at that added request. “So I poke my finger with the pen and get blood like that?”

  “Goodness, no. I never understand why people always poke the tips of their fingers to get blood for signing these things. Such a sensitive spot, full of nerves! So much unnecessary pain. You can just as easily get a couple drops from your forearm.”

  Jerry laughed. “Can you at least get Ben a different pen so we don’t have to contaminate each other with our blood?”

  The owner nodded and handed Ben another pen.

  They both poked their forearms, got a few painless drops of blood, and signed the NDAs.

  After handing them to the owner, Jerry looked at his pen. “This looks antique, by the way. 19th century?”

  The owner placed the signed agreements in his inner jacket pocket and smiled. “Nice try. You’re not getting my age. Or my name. It might be Rumpelstiltskin. Or it might not. You’ll just have to wonder.”

  Neither Jerry nor Ben laughed.

  “Alright, let’s show you the basement. But remember not to break your oath. I’m happy to help you improve a Gym’s services, but I will tear you into small pieces if you reveal our forbidden knowledge.”

  Jerry nodded. “Fine. We can at least discuss it with each other, right?”

  “No!”

  Jerry stepped back.

  The owner smiled again. “I’m very glad you asked that. Because it sounds like you did not read the agreement very carefully. It extends to any discussion of the matter with anyone, and that includes each other. Not once can you speak of it. Anyone can be listening anywhere. So it is forbidden everywhere.”

  Jerry shrugged. “Fine, let’s see it.”

  The Gym owner smiled. “Never assume we’re not watching. Just because I choose not to exercise the full range of my powers with my facility, does not mean I lack such powers.”

  Jerry and Ben nodded.

  The owner waved them along. “Please follow me!”

  Chapter 40

  Jerry remained silent since walking back up the Gym stairs. Ben occasionally made an attempt at speech, then stopped himself.

  The Gym owner was unfazed. He walked them to the door and said goodbye with a smile and said, “Please come again if you’d ever like a pleasant fitness experience! It’s all for your health!”

  The owner had been true to his word—he showed them the thing in the basement. And he let them live and walk free.

  And now they knew.

  They’d known there was something wrong with the Gym. They’d suspected there was some supernatural power behind it. They’d believed there had to be some kind of twisted logic or system fueling it all.

  Their suspicions were now confirmed. The only problem was...they had no idea how to deal with it. And they couldn’t verbally confer on the matter.

  They were quite sure that their car was bugged. But they had no interest in being mutilated, so they decided to abide by the NDA’s terms. Not one word was exchanged about what they saw in the basement.

  After they made it through the mountains, Jerry finally broke the silence.

  “I’m thirsty, can we stop for a soda?”

  “How about Sheetz?”

  “Lovely.”

  Chapter 41

  Jerry’s phone buzzed as they neared the 250 bypass.

  He took the call. He listened. He hung up.

  Ben asked him what that was about as they cruised up and around the eastbound ramp to get on 250.

  “My disability’s been canceled.”

  “What?”

  “Since I’m no longer employed by the construction company, my disability benefits are no longer valid. I’m on my own.”

  “Well, at least you can walk now.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready to go back to work at a job I don’t have.”

  “You could probably get a job at the Gym.”

  “That’s pretty funny.”

  “I do what I—”

  And Ben hit the brakes.

  Traffic was gridlocked at McIntire Road. 250 had turned into a parking lot full of abandoned vehicles as far as the eye could see. Several of the vehicles had smoke or flames blooming from their engines.

  A scattered number of ragged-looking people were weaving and running through the cars, looking for anyone still in them.

  Then one of the people looked up and saw Jerry and Ben. The blood-and-filth-covered man smiled and ran in their direction.

  “I’m thinking we should go the rest of the way on foot,” suggested Jerry.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” responded Ben.

  They leaped out of their car and ran down the exit ramp to McIntire Road. The bloody man followed. Before turning right, Ben took a look at the new 250 bridge. It had been there for a few years, but he’d never really stopped and paid attention to it. It was really nice. Well-constructed. He thought if he was gonna die any minute, he might make one of his last memories an appreciation for a nice work of architecture.

  But he didn’t die. Neither did Jerry. Though they attracted a larger and larger following as they ran.

  Several firefighters came running out of the fire station on their left as they passed. They had fire axes held high and did not look interested in putting out any fires.

  A mass of
men and women poured out of C-ville Coffee on their right, an over-caffeinated mob bent on bloodshed.

  Jerry and Ben passed by or leaped over a dead body every block or so. Cars were lining McIntire Road, with several smashed together or crashed into trees on the side of the road.

  The city had fallen apart in their absence.

  The Gym had driven the populace mad and was using them as an army.

  To what intent? Was this all just about attacking us? It couldn’t be.

  They crossed McIntire and as they neared a local Art in Place sculpture, a blood-soaked vagrant leaped out from behind the abstract form and tackled Ben to the ground. Jerry looked back and saw that their attackers were 50 yards back. Ben was flailing helplessly under the guy, who was much stronger and attacking at full strength.

  So Jerry raced over and slammed the attacker with his fists on either side of the head.

  It did the trick.

  The man collapsed, holding his head in agony, but calming down.

  Jerry picked up Ben and ran along. As they neared the old Vinegar Hill theater, he looked back and saw the newly-un-brainwashed guy look back and hold his hands up against the oncoming mob. He screamed as they closed in, enveloping him in punches, kicks, and then axe hits. Blood flew in every direction, saturating the attacking mob, as Jerry turned and ran around the corner and through the Downtown Mall.

  They weren’t people anymore, they were things. Gym things. And anyone not under the Gym’s control was doomed. A moving target for the Gym things.

  They weaved and ran carefully to avoid any prone bodies scattered throughout the mall. They were everywhere. Jerry wished he could stop and help the bloodied faces he passed, but for all he knew, they were Gym things posing as victims. Playing possum to get his guard down.

  They had to keep moving. The bodies propped against the walls of the Violet Crown, Christian’s Pizza, and Whiskey Jar all had to be ignored. Jerry couldn’t do anything for them. It was done. Lives were lost.

  “Pawn shop!” Jerry pointed.

  Ben saw it and followed him. He’d never noticed the place before.

  Jerry ran in and leaped over the counter, pushing aside the cashier’s corpse. The power tools were all kept in a glass cabinet behind the main desk. Jerry noticed that the cabinet wasn’t locked the last time he was there—selling off his old DVDs after Becky left—and he was pleased to find it was still open when he grabbed the handle.

  He grabbed the largest tool they had and an extension cord off a hook on the wall nearby.

  Ben’s eyes bulged at the size of the chainsaw Jerry grabbed. Jerry cut him off before he could say anything by growling, “This isn’t a defendable location. We have to keep moving.”

  Ben nodded and followed him back out of the store and down the alley away from the Mall.

  They were only three blocks from the Gym and they both suspected that it was going to get worse as they approached.

  But it didn’t.

  In fact, it got eerily quiet. There were no dead bodies out in the road. No cars, crashed or otherwise.

  They even stopped running as they crossed the train tracks. They looked back and saw the mob was no longer chasing them. There were no Gym things or victims anywhere in sight.

  Jerry and Ben looked at each other, as if the other would have an explanation. Neither did.

  The Gym was now within sight. The orange glowing sign was flashing in an odd rhythm, reflecting off the shattered glass and copper wiring and metal siding from the fallen houses across the street.

  Jerry recognized the flashing as Morse code. He saw what it was saying. He didn’t inform Ben about this fact. They had enough other worries.

  They got closer and closer to the door, just waiting for an attack. From any direction.

  None came.

  They reached the entrance and leaned over and looked in, expecting a defensive army.

  There was none.

  They opened the door and entered.

  They found no staff, no clients, no maniacs, no victims of the maniacs.

  Jerry didn’t question it. He went straight for the basement entrance past the indoor racquetball court.

  “Wait,” Ben said.

  “No. This might be a trap. But so what if it is? Do you have a better idea?”

  Ben was silent.

  “We have to do this. If we don’t face it, they win.”

  Ben winced. “You’re not really gonna go down there, are you? Not with that?” He nodded at the chainsaw.

  “Yes I am. And we’re not gonna hesitate.”

  As they reached the door, the personal trainer burst out of it.

  “Welcome, welcome!” he shouted with a smile. “Can I offer you a personalized workout plan to meet your fitness needs?”

  And then he charged them.

  They side-stepped him like matadors and he ran right through, smashing his head against the squash court’s glass wall. A huge crack appeared.

  The personal trainer turned and faced them, holding his bleeding forehead. He pointed to Jerry, “I always knew you were coming for my job.”

  Jerry wished his chainsaw didn’t require a power cord. Without power, it was as useful as a paperweight.

  “Why don’t you two just go upstairs and enjoy a nice workout? Take a swim. Relax in the sauna.”

  “Let me guess,” said Jerry. “The sauna is where you cook the bodies.”

  “Of course!” smiled the trainer. “Raw meat is unhealthy. Higher in nutrients, but loaded with bacteria. It’s important to season your food as you cook it, as well. Make your healthy food tasty and something you crave, and you won’t have to exercise willpower to resist unhealthy foods!”

  Jerry noticed that they had a clear shot to the basement while the trainer was loopy from the cranial glass impact. Holding the chainsaw and cord tight, he inched backward.

  Ben saw what he was doing and followed his example.

  The trainer laughed. “You go right ahead down there. You have no idea what’s down there.”

  “Oh yes we do,” growled Ben. “You sickos.”

  “What?” said the trainer. “It’s no worse than coal power. Our power source is environmentally friendly in comparison. We care about your health and your environment.”

  “Right,” laughed Ben. “You care so much about our health, you feed us to—”

  A red portal erupted in front of them and the Harrisonburg Gym owner leaped through, facing Ben.

  “The terms of your NDA were perfectly clear,” he said in a neutral tone.

  “But, but,” Ben backed away. “I didn’t say anything! And even if I did—this psycho works here, he knows what it is!”

  The Gym owner shrugged, holding up a device that looked like the thing they used to scan their Gym cards at the entrance. “I don’t make the terms, but I do enforce them. You made me do this.”

  Before Ben could say anything more, the owner raised the scanner and pulled the trigger. He swiped it twice vertically and twice horizontally.

  Dismembered by lasers, Ben’s arms dropped, along with his severed legs. His disconnected torso followed and his head rolled away and hit the racquetball court.

  The owner turned to Jerry, who looked terrified. “I apologize for this. I bear you no ill will.” As he stepped back through the red portal, Jerry reached out.

  “Can’t you do anything to help? That big muscly guy over there doesn’t care about the health of his clients or providing a positive fitness experience!”

  The owner shot a brief glance at the trainer, who looked mortified. “That is absolutely false! I do everything in my power to build muscle and reduce fat!”

  The owner looked back at Jerry and shook his head. “I’m unable to interfere with the affairs of other Gyms. You’re on your own here. Good luck.”

  And he disappeared into the portal, which promptly evaporated.

  The trainer smiled wider than before. “Just you and me now. Ready for some one-on-one specialized fitness training?�
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  Jerry spun and ran to the basement. He pulled the door shut behind him but found that the door had no lock from inside.

  He went down the stairs, taking them two at a time, the impact of each sending jolts up his left leg. It was in better shape, but still had a hard time with stairs.

  He made it through the basement door and shut it behind him, again with no lock to help him. He flipped a light switch and looked around for a plug. He heard the enormous thing a few yards away. He knew it was there, but he couldn’t look at it. He knew he’d lose his mind if he did.

  He found an outlet near the floor and plugged in the extension cord and connected it to the chainsaw.

  He stood in front of the door, waiting for the trainer to burst through. And burst through he did.

  The trainer screamed as Jerry squeezed the trigger, activating the chainsaw before swinging it at the oncoming mountain of muscle.

  The chainsaw hit his arm and removed a chunk of meat, causing the trainer to scream even louder.

  The thing near them roared in delight at the sight of the blood.

  Jerry still refused to look at it.

  The trainer curled up in a fetal ball on the floor, clutching helplessly at the missing chunk of flesh.

  Jerry slowly moved toward him and held the chainsaw up to his neck. “How does it feel to be a victim? How does it feel to be powerless?”

  The trainer laughed, got up on his knees. “You’ll do better than I ever did.”

  Jerry lifted the chainsaw high, prepared to bring it down on the trainer’s head.

  But then he changed his mind.

  Jerry set the purring chainsaw aside and raised his arms.

  He swung them down and hit the trainer on the sides of his head.

  The trainer grunted, drew his head back like he’d received an electric shock.

  Jerry stood over him, waiting for the trainer’s head to clear.

  The trainer looked up at him, confused.

  “What is all this?”

  “You’re in the Gym. You work here. What do you remember?”

  The trainer looked around. “It’s so dark down here. Why is it so dark? What’s going on?”

  Jerry felt calm for the first time in days. He’d neutralized the biggest threat. Ben was gone, but with the trainer’s help, he could take this place down. He reached a hand out to the trainer.