Deadwave

by Michael Evans

  The woman laughs, the horrible, groggy sound inching closer to my ear as I feel the metal blade of a knife press up against my neck

  “Do you see those barrels above?” She snickers, spit flying into my ear. I unfortunately cannot wipe it away because the rope is tied around my entire body. “They are full of oil, and if you refuse to accept our deal with you, we will set this place on fire and burn you alive.”

  “I don’t believe you will actually do that.”

  Right as I say those words, the rope holding up one of the barrels releases, and the barrel crashes with a deafening bang to the floor. It is spilling everywhere and even causing a steady stream of it to cover my legs, which are stuck on the floor.

  “It is up to you whether to trust what we say or not.” Her face finally moves in front of mine, yet despite the feminine voice, she is wearing a mask that makes her look like some sort of monstrous troll. I almost scream when the hideous thing pops up a few inches away from my face.

  I already know my answer. But witnessing a column of fire erupt in the far-left corner of the warehouse only convinces me more. I feel like the shittiest person ever. But victors always have to pay a price.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll do it.” I hastily force the words out before I lose the courage or before they set the entire place ablaze. “Get me out of here and clean up this mess. I’ll do the rest.”

  A surge of terror, shock, and determination rushes over me unlike any sensation before. It is like my body is floating, and my mind is watching it, powerless to do anything to save it.

  These people are ruining my life. But maybe they will be the ones to save it too. Maybe they will be the ones who will give me the power I have always wanted. Maybe they will show me the truth.

  The nightmarish mask disappears into my peripheral vision, and besides the crackling of the fire in the far corner, everything is silent. Another mask presses up against my face, invading my airways with the same heavy gas.

  My consciousness slowly fades away, every thought dissolving into the gas until only two things are left in my mind.

  Shame and fear.

  Chapter 31

  I wake up in my bed.

  The covers concealing my body are drenched in sweat, while the air conditioning chills every inch of my skin, causing me to shiver. A needle pierces my arm, the tube feeding a weird-colored solution to my body that feeds from a large machine stationed next to my bed, beeping every few seconds.

  I see my Siberian Husky dog, Reno, out of the corner of my eyes, lying on the floor of my room in his usual spot.

  What is happening? The IV in my arm leads me to believe I am in a hospital, but I sleep in my room nearly every night and know well enough that this is it. I’m hooked up to a massive machine with screens all over it and plenty of different compartments. Are they using this to monitor me?

  I prop myself up on my pillow, feeling extremely groggy at first. A rush of blood inundates my head, and for one moment I verge on the precipice of passing out. But I keep my eyes open, staring at the ceiling, using all the will in my body to stay awake. I eventually manage to pull the needle out of my arm, managing to keep my body still as I pull the needle out at the exact angle it was forced into my vein. Whatever devious liquid these people are putting into me, I want no part of it.

  These people are lunatics. I sigh and let the memories flood my mind. It hits me almost immediately what happened. I agreed to kill my father. I can’t get out of this now. I can’t end this now, it’s too late.

  I shoot up in bed, ignoring the pain in my lower back as my eyes connect with the red lava lamp on my dresser. The circular movement of the liquid flowing through the glass tube calms my mind for a moment, but looking out my window and at the sheer blackness outside makes all the worry return.

  My stomach violently churns, and I stand up, making my way to the bathroom as a wave of nausea overcomes me. I notice very quickly once my feet hit the soft carpet that I’m not wearing any socks or shoes, which is slightly disturbing, to say the least. I try to think of an explanation for it, and either they had me on some potent anesthetics that kept me knocked out and forgetting almost everything, or they themselves broke into my house and put me in bed like I’m a child.

  Shivers run down my spine at either thought.

  I emerge from my room, walking steadily towards the bathroom despite the fact that my legs themselves feel weighed down by the blood rushing inside them.

  “Sam, you’re awake.” The presence of another human’s voice instantly causes terror to erupt inside me. The voice manages to stay quiet, but any sound pounding against my ears feels harsh. I shuffle backward, almost falling and screaming at the top of my lungs in the process.

  I dart my eyes to the right, looking down the hallway to see if anyone has a weapon raised, ready to threaten my life.

  “Sam, it’s me.” I recognize the voice as feminine. In the darkness, I can make out the vague outline of her body and her long, black hair. I dismiss the notion that it is the lady from the warehouse back to come and tell me I have to kill my father now.

  “Riva.” Just seeing her is enough to bring a smile to my face. She walks forward towards me, wrapping her arms around me before I have the chance to even utter another word.

  I sigh, taking the moment to enjoy her warm embrace, and let my mind slip into the comfort of her body. She smells unbelievable, her aroma similar to that of lilacs on a spring day, which is exactly the opposite of the way the mold and asbestos of the warehouse smacked my nose.

  “I’m so happy you are okay.” Her hot breath presses up against my ears. She kisses me on my cheek, and her affection slowly melts away the shell of terror that cemented itself around me since the moment the house fell apart.

  I don’t respond. My mouth is unable to move. Unable to say the truth—that I’m far from okay. Instead, I bury my head on her shoulder and hold on to her body, the uncertainty of everything reaching a climax in my mind. The thought that this could be our last time hugging like this, and that this could be the last time I am ever this close with another human being, can’t help but overcome me.

  I take in a deep breath of air to stop myself from crying. I can’t let those thoughts taint this moment. I either die or I become a killer, and that day may be tomorrow, or it may be a year from now. But when it comes, it will all be over.

  “How are you even here?” I look around at the wood paneling on the walls of the hallway. I have never been too much of a fan of them, but I also didn’t care enough to ever get them changed.

  “I’ve been here for days now. Your dad is asleep on the couch out in your living room right now.” She hugs me even tighter, her body practically becoming one with mine as she lets out a big sigh. “I’m so happy you are okay. We have been watching you around the clock to see when you would wake up. We knew you had a pulse and were still living, but we had no idea what they did to you, what they did to your brain. I was so scared, so scared.” She pauses, and even in the darkness, the sadness in her eyes is visible. “But I’m so happy you are okay. I’m so happy.”

  “Wait, how long has it even been?” I look around as if the blackness of the night will be a good indicator for the day of the week. I feel the anxiety course through me at the way she said the word days. “Please tell me the Deadwave Finals haven’t passed. Please, tell me.”

  If they did somehow manage to induce me into a coma that would last an entire week, effectively causing me to miss the Deadwave Finals, then despite their sheer cruelness, I’d have to hand total victory right over to them. They said they were going to clean everything up, to let me get a chance at going back to the finals. What if they couldn’t do that and had me sleep through it?

  “It’s tomorrow.” My stomach drops as she holds both my hands, her presence doing nothing to comfort me from that shock. “Well, I guess technically today—after all, it is past three in the morning.”

  “Oh, wow, we have to be there in twelve hours.” I step back and pa
t my shirt. It is a clean, striped shirt that my dad and Riva likely managed to change me into. I don’t know why, but the feeling of being so helpless to the point that other people had to change me is more than embarrassing. Especially when I think about what they had to do with my other bodily functions.

  “Don’t worry about that.” She dismisses my concern. “The first priority is your health. So, how are you feeling? Do you need something to eat? A glass of water? Anything you want and it’s yours.”

  “No, I’m good right now. My body feels dead. Like everything is working, I just feel numb.” I walk down the hallway, holding Riva’s hand as I sit on my favorite chair made of bamboo, with a fluffy covering, hanging by a wire from the ceiling of my studio. I motion for Riva to sit on it next to me, which in reality means on top of me, and she doesn’t hesitate.

  “Are you sure you are okay?” She wraps her arm around me as she sits on my lap, her body feeling amazing on top of me.

  “Physically, yes. Just still getting used to being awake, I guess. Mentally, though…” My voice trails off. I stop myself from getting into everything that happened, everything about Jake and my dad. “I’m not in a good place. Everything before I still remember, and it’s trapped in my mind, haunting me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She leans in to hug me, causing my face to go right into her chest, which is certainly something I do not complain about. “I can’t believe that any of this happened. I’m so happy you’re alive. For days we didn’t know if we were going to lose you. I’m beyond happy you’re here.”

  “Well, I’m really happy you’re here.” I smile despite the strong urge inside me to tear up. “I needed to see you when I woke up. I’m so happy you are safe too. Things have hit another level recently, and yeah. It’s all so crazy. What has even been happening the last almost week I have been knocked out?” I dread asking the question, but I need to know so badly. “What happened?”

  “Here, why don’t I let your dad tell you? I don’t feel like this is my place to tell.” My stomach sinks, and I imagine him delivering the one piece of news, the one outcome that will drive me to mental insanity. If I can’t get the shot to win tonight, everything will be over for me.

  She stands up, pulling on my arm for me to come with her. “He will be so excited to see you are awake. He’s had nurses here eighteen hours a day, monitoring you to make sure you are okay, and got some emergency equipment for Chimera for you to be hooked up to so that you could get nutrients and have your vitals monitored. He even contacted someone he knew at one of the local hospitals and gave the nurses all cash to come on their off shifts at the hospital.”

  I follow her back down the dark hallway out to the living room, where I can begin to hear the loud hacksaw-like snoring of my dad. I don’t respond as she speaks. Sometimes the mind can’t even begin to process things to know how to respond. “We didn’t know if you would come back. Your dad was adamant on not sending you to the hospital; he trusted that they didn’t kill you. But since we could find no handheld MRI scanners besides some in research labs at universities, we didn’t know what they did to your brain. But this is you. You’re all here, and I won’t ever let them get close to taking you again. I promise. I can’t believe I even let you run off like that. I can’t believe I let that happen.”

  “It’s okay.” She is just as overwhelmed as I am. It is obvious by the emotions spilling out of her in words frantically jumbled together. “It wasn’t your fault. I chose that, knowing the risk it posed. Don’t ever let yourself feel guilt for my mistakes.”

  She stops walking forward, both of us still in the living room with my dad lying a dozen feet away, deep asleep. She glances at me with tears in her eyes. “I should have stopped you. I should have. I wish I could make this end. I wish I could end this for you.”

  “That’s not your job. It’s not your responsibility to worry about me.” I glance out the windows, which have a gorgeous view of the restaurants lining the street outside, closed for the night. “I’ll worry about myself. I can’t let anyone else go through this with me. I have to do this alone.”

  She leans on me, and I can tell now by the heaviness to her muscles that she likely hasn’t gotten any sleep all week. She silently nods at my words. For a while we stay like that, both of us looking out the window at the other end of the room, with our bodies leaning on each other and our breaths in sync.

  Then finally she speaks up at a normal volume, which is loud enough to startle my dad awake. He instantly stands up upon noticing me, his unshaven face and bloodshot eyes lighting up.

  “You’re back.” He wraps his arms around me, the muscles he has spent years working out for forming a protective shield around me.

  “Yes, yeah.” I look at him, not knowing what else to say. “That was insane.”

  “How are you feeling?” he asks me in a serious tone, like a doctor would, which is always one of his things he says he is good at when in reality he is not (he always diagnoses himself with the most complicated bullshit when it’s just a cold).

  “I’m feeling okay. Just confused and surprised. Very confused.” I move to sit down on the fuzzy bean bag chair in my living room, where I have spent many nights sleeping instead of on my bed. My dad motions for one of the lights to turn on halfway, causing the dark wood paneling on the walls and white carpet throughout the house to be illuminated. The entire size of my apartment itself is rather small, with only two bedrooms, one serving as my game room and the other being the place I actually sleep in.

  “Yeah, being knocked out for several days will do that to you for sure.” My dad says it like he has been through this kind of thing before. “And the days you have been gone have been insane. But first I wanna hear about you. What happened, and what did they do to you?”

  I quickly sum up my horrid experiences during the last few hours I was awake. The party, the back of the house collapsing off the cliff, my talk with the police, and of course being taken to the abandoned warehouse and almost being burned alive. All a great time, if anyone is looking to watch their entire life blow up before their eyes. Unfortunately, that person isn’t me, but my eyelids are taped open to the horror anyway.

  My dad listens carefully the whole time, along with Riva. He nods along at points, and in others holds a finger up to his mouth, the entire time his face remaining emotionless. I make sure not to mention the fact that I accepted a mission to kill him in order to save myself, and that any moment together could be our last. Instead, I mention how they still are trying to scare me into working with them now that Jake is partnered with them. I carefully choose my words and don’t dive into the world of my emotions, all the anger and doubt I have for my dad nearly impossible to get into in this moment.

  I can’t confront my dad about the truth to all of this—I can’t force him into it now. After all, it might be useless anyway. I need to focus on my one goal. My one dream that is now so close—at least, I hope it is.

  “That’s what I expected,” he says, sighing, both of his hands folded in front of him. I almost let my jaw drop open upon his response, but part of me isn’t even surprised. Of course he expects this. He is the only father in this universe that would ever expect this for their child. It’s like he half expects me to walk home with one of my legs cut off from the playground, while he insists it is a normal, friendly gesture.

  “Oh, yeah, me too.” Despite my grogginess, I never let my sassiness take a day off. He deserves every ounce of it. For a moment, after hearing how much time he has dedicated to me this week, I thought he would actually be caring and compassionate. That is a pipe dream, apparently.

  “Well, I shouldn’t say I expected this. Just after hearing some rumors, I guess it doesn’t surprise me.” He completely ignores my statement and just keeps talking anyway. He would make a great politician. “But I’ll share the good news first.”

  “There’s good news amidst all this?” I inch forward in my seat in anticipation. I better be able to compete, I better be able t
o.

  “The entire incident was ruled as accidental.” The second the words come out of his mouth, I breathe a sigh of relief. “There will be no charges against any individuals, but a massive lawsuit from the families of the victims against the city of La Jolla for damages. That maneuver was likely entirely the work of the same people that managed to get things cleared with the Deadwave League Offices in a matter of hours. Jake ended up coming clean on your lack of involvement in the event, and that you both had severed ties before then, thus you are cleared to compete in the finals. And they are unaware of your health issue, only me and Riva know, so for all they know you have been training and are ready to go for the pre-game press conference tomorrow.”

  “That’s unbelievable.” I smile, the adrenaline and excitement already filling my body with energy.

  “Yeah, well, yeah, there are some huge positives. The main thing is you still have a chance, you still can win, and that’s huge. That’s everything. Are you even able to compete?”

  “I’ll find out. There’s no way I’m not giving this a shot.” The determination inside me was already at freakish levels. Now, after all this, I will need to win. I will need to do my best—the best—to show them they can’t end me. They can’t take anything else away from me. I won’t let them. “But what happened to everyone there? The people on the back deck, even Jake. Who have you heard from, what is going on?”

  “Five people died from the fall, and one is paralyzed and still recovering from critical condition.” He looks down at the ground as he says it. His voice grows softer. “The entire back end of the house ended up eventually falling into the ocean below. It’s all gone. And Jake is gone too. Like literally fallen off the face of the Earth gone. Who knows? Maybe he is looking for his mom, or traveling. They will pay for him to do anything for sure. They will give him anything he wants. I can’t believe he betrayed us. I can’t believe he did that.”

  “He probably felt there was no other option.” My voice remains low. I don’t have the will to force it to grow louder. I don’t have the courage to tell my dad that I felt the same way. That I betrayed him too.