by Enoch Enns
The other four awakened. Panic flooded an old man as his coffee cup dropped to the floor.
I have to finish this, Trip nudged himself to his feet as the retracting limb slid toward him. Gun reloaded, he fired a distant shot. Six shots, six pillars, one path. That's all I need.
The black swept beneath his feet and he hit hard but his tailored-ops suit took the most of it. He looked up. A girl. Mid-twenties. High socks. Bright shirt.
The Shem crashed into her as it tore toward Trip's still body. Or was still body. He'd picked himself off the floor and launched to side and behind the pillar from which the Shem came. The posts he needed were in the opposite direction—a distance he wished to not have to recover.
A switch blade was in his hand-- his body in the air and rotating above the force. The blade acted simply as a pivotal point. He spun and landed on his feet as the Shem took to another form and rounded back at him from the front. He'd just the time to place a single shot before needing to reload. He stopped, dropped, and rolled with a thud in his wake. Right side, third clip-- he had the movements memorized. He decided to take the risk and make a break for the end. The Shem, like a serpentine rhinoceros shook the ground as it wove through pillars and back around. Trip fired off to his right. That's five. One more.
His body hesitated. Before him was another girl, her eyes wide pressed, mouth gaping, jaws tight.
A tripper.
His body dropped and back bent more than he'd known possible. The limb had broken through the illusioned image and nearly taken him by surprise. His only warning-- the Shem had already claimed her at the pillar. This one was fake.
But he knew the Shem more than capable enough of changing momentum and sending itself crashing down upon him. Palms to the floor, he forced his body to the side as the darkness pounded to the floor. Body still bracing for impact, he saw as the limb broke from before him and joined in with the mass from behind. He had no time for any worthy escape. It was now or never.
He took four steps to the last pillar and lunged himself past it-- turning mid-air and placing his last shot. Now.
From his waist he drew a single trigger and-- back hitting to the tile-- he pulled.
The sets acted as pulleys sending wire spiking through the aligned Shem. The spikes reeled as they tightened and lit up in a rippling flash of static. The creature roared as its attempts to squirm fell apart and its mass turned to a dreary liquid on the floor. Trip stood atop his feet and inhaled a long awaited breath of satisfaction. Finally.
He spun around—a second gun drawn (this on loaded with bullets). Behind him stood the remaining two that had awakened. A man and his little girl. But they seemed different.
Especially the girl.
Why There Are So Few Witnesses
Carls Locke held tightly the hand of his daughter-- and his breath. He didn't dare to make one move against the drawn gun that was pointed straight to his face. It held steady and firm, not wavering one bit. Indeed, Trip was a man worth seeking.
“Name?” the man spoke commandingly.
“Locke. And this is my daughter, Joan. We were told you could help us.”
“By who?”
“Sherlin.”
Trip lowered his gun, looking him square in the eye. “I don't remember taking requests from Sherlin. Since when did he stop taking people in?”
“He said you could tell me about TAP.”
Trip’s expression changed. “Come with me,” he said, turning away. Carls noticed a man crouched in the corner where he hadn’t seen till passing. The old man seemed broken at heart and mourning inside. How long has he been here? Has Trip been ignoring him? He couldn’t get his mind off the burden held felt to kneel down beside the man. “Sir--” he spoke but was interrupted.
“Don't bother, Mr. Locke. He's in shock. Everything he knew reality to be was just torn away from him. Don't think that you would understand.”
As if. Carls knew all too well what it felt like to suffer the shock of losing grasp on one’s perceived reality. He looked back at the old man. “So you're just leaving him?”
Trip seemed challenged to prove his point. “The man is in denial,” he put simply. “Try as you may, he won’t be doing anything for a while. It's best to just leave him and he will decide his next step.”
Trip seemed confused that it had taken Carls this long to notice. It was such a familiar circumstance to Trip that he wasn't use to explaining. Nor did he like second guessing himself. It was just something he never did. He didn’t want the responsibility of looking after someone. He'd failed so many already. All he had left to drive him was the journey and fight to the bitter end. He strode into the large red tent. Locke watched as the man quickly assorted the valuables and took his leave.
“Daddy, isn't that stealing?” Joan asked, pointing at the stranger.
Carls was oblivious as how to respond. Thankfully, Trip did for him. “It isn't stealing when it no longer belongs to anyone. They left it here for us, I'm sure they won’t mind.”
And just like that her attention flung towards a rack of stuffed animals on a display cart. “Hey, daddy! Can I take one?” she asked, jumping up and down.
Carls had to take a second look. He recognized the cart. The same one that...
It couldn't be. There was no way. He just shook his head to the notion.
“No, Joan. We don't need it and it's not ours. It still isn't good to take things.”
“Please? I need it really bad!”
“Sorry, maybe another place and time.”
Trip made his way to the girl, kneeling to her level. “I'll tell you what. You take this money and place it over there and I'll get ya whichever one you want, ok?”
She leaped with joy. Trip looked up at Carls, “Sorry, don't want to be going against your word or anything.”
“Now can I get one, dad?” Joanna peeped in.
Carls found himself struggling to contain the memories that display brought back. Her laughter. The fun they had pretending to chase down the wild clown.
The moment she disappeared and the moment he went unconscious.
She would have no idea. He didn't like the sight of it at all, nor the thought of carrying a part of it with them wherever they went. In fact, he detested to the thought but reached out nonetheless and took from the top a small, stuffed, red teddy bear. Joanna took it with arms wide open-- completely oblivious to the significance behind her request. For Carls at least.
“You mentioned TAP,” Trip jutted in from behind. “Why?”
“I didn’t come here to have everything I know shattered to pieces, and I am sure no one else did either. People need a haven—a refuge—from all… delusion. If there's a safe place here for people to go, for my daughter too, then people need to be told.”
“It doesn't just work like that,” Trip reluctantly replied. “You got a safe-haven then you got security. And, for most, security is just an excuse to get comfortable. You get comfortable, you get careless. Such a place cannot risk being destroyed from inside out. That's why it wasn't open to everyone. That's why even now TAP’s exact location has been kept from the outside.”
“Wait, so you don't even know where it is? I thought you worked for them?”
“You don't understand TAP and the way they operate, do you? Just because I work for them does not secure any inside position on my part. I was simply their messenger between rally points and distribution centers. It wasn't my job to lead people to the place.”
“Then what happened?”
“They went silent and I've been spending these last few weeks just trying to figure out why.”
“What do you mean silent? Sherlin mentioned them just cutting off communication. I wouldn't expect them to be so cold as to abandon everyone if their goals had been to save them in the first place.”
“Like I said, I don't know why. All I know is that something forced them to shut down from the inside.”
“So this whole talk of a safe-place is just made up? It doe
sn't exist, does it?”
“If you are just as curious as I, then I suggest you pitch in. I don't have all the answers-- just the fact that I lost connection is proof enough. However, it does exist. I know it. It has to. The men I know to have helped start it wouldn't turn against such a vision so easily. Help me find them and maybe we can finally start getting some answers.”
“If you were left out of the loop, then how do you know about them?”
“I haven't been dormant if that's what you're implying. I'm not just chasing down monsters and putting lives to rest. I believe in what TAP was undertaking, and I want to finish it. But I can't as a one-man team. So if you want to help, then help, but I can't be wasting time trying to catch up every curious mind on the happenings.”
Carls glanced at Joanna as she played with her bear. All he wanted was for her to get out of this. He'd been reunited with her in present, but now he wished to secure her future. If lending an arm and foot to yet another cause was a means of doing that, then he would. Not just for her, but others. For the rejected and the helpless.
“I'm in,” he said.
A spread of relief filled Trip's face. He put aside his gun and leaned against the near desk. “Then it's time you hear as to why there are so few witnesses.”
The Lost Scientists & Their Work
“There are few who have lived past the exposure of TAP. Not in the sense that TAP eliminates them-- but there are those that wish TAP dead and gone. You should know that going into this. My brother and closest cousin both died for this. Friedelock is the primary. That man is a demon in disguise I just know it. Countering him was one of Sherlin's primary tasks when he'd signed on with TAP. But it seems he couldn't take it anymore, or it was just too much. Regardless of any of Sherlin’s efforts, TAP seemed to be getting more distant still. I don't know how Friedelock could be such a force against them, but somehow he managed to war on two, if not three, fronts. He single-handedly pushed back Sherlin's men while somehow chasing down all of TAP's agents as they were being exposed. On top of that, he runs his own campaign. The man makes no sense. His abilities are far underestimated.
“It is my guessing that Friedelock was getting too close to full exposure of TAP's intentions. Thus, to protect themselves and their work, TAP went silent. By the time I had caught onto this, it was already too late. They hit our small outpost without warning. Not just the hired hands but the Shem as well. Though they didn't care for telling Friedelock's men apart from the rest. Everything on the hinge, I fled. Not as a coward, but in attempt to bury any leads they might have gained from such a raid. I also uncovered something that interested me: a name of a man I knew them to be pursuing desperately. It seems that TAP, at its top, is run by a bunch of scientists, or at least they held the majority, and Friedelock hated them. His trail wasn't hard to miss, seeing as Friedelock's men were forcing him to think on his feet and be sloppy in doing so. I never did reach him… but I uncovered three tapes in his wake—from which I have since been searching high and low for answers. Everything keeps hinting at four names—names I doubt Friedelock hasn't already uncovered as well. Regardless, I must find them and what’s left. They are the key to unveiling whatever it was that TAP had accomplished in its time. Is it obvious their work is at halt and hiding from everyone? Yes, but it is also on the fridge of being lost altogether. Those few remaining that do know anything are being slaughtered one by one, limb by limb.
“If you wish to help, you can start by finding Tenius Morphela-- he is the first I came to uncover. You will reach him in the Delvore Sanctum if my findings are correct. Go there and find him. You must get whatever he has left. While you do, I will be pursuing leads to the rest that you might find them also. If we do this properly, I do not doubt in the slightest that we can uncover this haven that you and I both know to exist.”
Carls found it hard to comprehend everything, but swallowed the mounting questions anyhow. “Tenuis Morphela... how do I find him?”
Trip reached beneath his belt and withdrew a tape. “This analog is all I have on him thus far. Hopefully it'll help you get off on the right foot. But be careful, Friedelock's men are all over that place-- enough so to have pushed Sherlin's contacts out of the picture, it seems.”
He took the tape.
“Whatever you do, keep your eye on her as well.” Carls knew what he was referencing to. He knew that Friedelock would try to take her again. He knew that being so close to the man, he was putting her at risk again. Nausea suddenly filled him as he began doubting his steps. But he couldn't be. Not now. No second guessing. Just close your eyes and trust, he told himself. But half of him was missing with the painful loss of his first love. Joan reminded him so much of Elairah, his beloved wife. At times, he would have to remind himself that it was, indeed, Joan and not her.
He had no idea the character behind Trip. Only that if this haven were to be found, Trip was his only way. For the moment, he stashed the tape into his sack and looked back to his daughter. Friedelock will not have you again, he pledged to himself. I will not allow it. Not less over my dead body.
“Carls,” Trip's hand gripped his shoulder and he jerked back to reality. “Thank you. It's been a while since someone has actually helped. This means a lot to me. And her.”
“Don't mention it,” Carls replied, calling Joan to his side. “I expect you to have my path cleared for the next one when I'm done with this.”
Trip chuckled. “Ya, if you make it alive. Just watch your back.”
And just like that, his meeting with Trip was over. The man parted way and Carls once again faced the unknown with but some far-stretched hope of finding solace and answers.
Beneath What's Known To Man
“It's a simple intent that drives man the deepest. In all manner of the phrase: there truly is nothing new beneath the sun. We may try to convince ourselves otherwise, but just the thought itself has already undermined the attempt.”
-Mike Dyrdrik, In Search of Life's Mysteries
Carls was beginning to see things previously kept unknown to him. But not just see. Hear. Touch. Smell. Almost as if something had once held grasp of his mind and kept him from knowing. Was this what Antoinette had meant? Was there some illusion that had wrapped its way around him only to now begin unraveling? He was even more cautious with every step as the realness of everything slowly came to him. The halls truly were empty. But he could hear the vents and flow of cool air sweep around the place. The entirety of the Theatra Amusement Park seemed... different. For some reason, as though the rapture itself had occurred, the place was left alone. Empty, the lights and attractions still carried on their work. The machines still turned their wheels and shone their shows-- but no one was there to encourage it on, thus all since of attraction was gone. Well, at least for him. Joan still found the displays amusing and longed to go on every one of them. To her, everything was normal. Somehow. To her, the people were still there. She could still see the flickers-- and it terrorized him so-- but she would only smile.
The carousel wound itself around for the last spin. He stood silent behind the retaining bars, but she laughed playfully in the seat as it moved even to its lowest speed. She was happy. At least that. I don't know what has happened to you, Joan. I am sorry, but I am glad you at least don't have to see things for the way they really are. Just play for me. Laugh, run, play-- just do not lose your innocence.
Every time he touched her-- every time his skin met with hers in fear-- the images came. Her reality would clash with his and he would also retreat from it. For some reason, he did not wish to see things how they were...
He could not bear seeing Elairah while knowing she was...
Her laughing broke the cause to tears and he looked up. The ride had finished and Joan was waving her arms around. “Look, daddy! Look! A clown,” she said, pointing to the distance.
But what he saw was completely different, and it was only a matter of a heartbeat before his boots reeled from the ground and he rushed toward her. “Co
me, Elairah!” he said, catching himself. But her buckle was snagged.
No, you're not Elairah.
And that was no clown.
Carls’ felt nausea flood his gut to the sight of the Fallen One charging through the small metal rails of the adjacent attraction as though they were just stencils. He struggled with the last buckle and pulled her tight to his chest-- his knee dropping to the floor and twisting as bent bars flew above his head. Joan was confused and frightened at her surroundings—clinging tighter to his form. He could only imagine what she thought of his rash movements and the tension across his face. The Fallen One drew closer. Where she saw crowds, Carls saw the appearance of illusionate rushing towards him. Ducking low he was able to evade the first and a flying chunk of pottery struck the second aggressor to approach him. Did the Fallen One throw that? His eyes strained to see two tents in the distance, a kitchen tent and fireworks display. Perhaps he could lose them there….
But had the Fallen One intentionally hit the illusionate?
He didn't know, nor did he care to second guess the situation any longer. He'd only the time to run behind the cover of a fireworks’ display tent—though he wasn’t the only one to have made it. The Fallen One tore through the opposing side and the ground shook and air intoxicated with firecrackers.
Carls could feel their flare as they rippled through the air all around him. His shock turned to terror as he noticed them crashing toward a kitchen tent, specifically the gas tanks.
He lunged behind a concrete block of a hall square—shielding his daughter with his entirety. Everything went slow for a time. He could see from the corner of his terrified eyes a shimmer of light spark across the vast space between tents. It was beautiful against the shadows of desperation. Where the darkness once held, light now shone vibrantly. Yet following the flash, Carls felt the pounding to his ears as the ground trembled to the force wave. The Fallen One toppled backwards and shrapnel covered the floor. Just like that, fire began to spread. The Fallen One was outraged and confused and tore toward the flames and pulverized everything in its reach.