by Darrell Pitt
Chapter Eleven
The view is fantastic. Even I have to admit it. But that’s not too surprising. We have just rented the entire penthouse suite of The Robison, a hotel on Madison Avenue. It’s not the best hotel in town, but it’s close to it. Certainly beats living on the streets.
The more I think about the image in my mind of the wheat field, the more I decide I’m not from New York. I don’t know how I came to be here, but somehow a boy living in a rural farming area got hijacked and dropped off in one of the world’s biggest cities.
At least I’m not roughing it anymore. The penthouse of The Robison is as good as luxury gets. It has six bedrooms and an open plan living area with leather lounges and television in every room – including the bathroom. Not that the television is worth watching. It’s the same old thing. Wars. Fears of financial recession. A feel good story about a dog rescued from a well in Siberia.
The leasing of the place came easy, though I can’t say I felt relaxed during any part of it. We simply went up to the front desk and Dan asked for the best apartment in the building. For a few seconds the man looked down his nose at him. Then Dan produced a wallet full of imaginary money and handed him a wad of it.
Later they’ll check their takings and find they’re down by several thousand dollars. Okay, I don’t feel right about it. Neither does Brodie, but it’s better than spending another night in the warehouse. Ultimately it’s a question of survival.
Well, this is surviving, all right.
Room service has already delivered pizzas, fries and soft drinks three times. That’s after we’d already cleaned out the contents of the mini bar. Dan suggested sampling the extensive range of alcohol available to us, but I vetoed it. We need to be clear headed in case guys with guns come knocking at the door.
Of course, Brodie and Dan are both super powered. One of Dan’s additional abilities seems to be able to simultaneously eat pizza, drink coke and play a computer game called Planet of Hell whilst lounging sideways on a sofa.
Oh, as well as carrying on a conversation.
“Is this the life, or is this the life?” he asks.
“This is the life,” I agree.
“But is it ethical?” Brodie asks.
“What does that mean?” Dan frowns, killing a demon and taking another quick bite of pizza.
“Ethical. Moral. The right thing to do.” She looked pissed about the whole thing. “Aren’t we supposed to be using our powers for good?”
“No one gave me an instruction manual.” Dan looks at me. “How about you?”
“No.” Although I’m not actually in the super hero club, so I probably shouldn’t be saying anything. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with doing this for a couple of days. Then we can look at our options.”
“Which are?” Brodie asks.
I sigh. That’s a good question to which I don’t have a good answer. I’m not really sure where we go from here. We tried going back to the office of Cygnus Industries and found nothing there. Brodie has had an image in her head of city surrounding a harbor, but unfortunately half the cities in the world seem to be located next to harbors. She might be referring to Sydney. She even has a memory of the Sydney Harbor Bridge, but she may have picked that up from a tourist brochure.
We seem to have hit a dead end.
I pull out the notebook again and leaf through the pages randomly.
“What’s that?” Dan asks.
I explain to him about the book and he asks to have a look at it. For a long time he examines the pages closely without comment. Then he checks out the spine. His eyes narrow.
“I think there’s something built into the spine,” he says.
I take the book from him. It takes me a moment to realize he’s right. The spine is quite thick. A lot thicker than any regular hardcover book. It’s hard to believe I didn’t notice it before.
“Get me a knife,” I say.
A moment later I’m cutting carefully along the edge of the book. An object slips out into my hand. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks vaguely like a flash drive for a computer, but it’s much thinner. When I hold it up to the light it gets even stranger. The interior is sparkling, but it’s like looking at a precious stone like an opal. It flashes with shades of red and yellow and green.
The others examine it too, but none of us can agree to its purpose.
Brodie thinks it’s a piece of high tech gadgetry. Dan posits that it’s a gem stone that’s fallen out of its housing. I simply have no idea. I search my memory for several more seconds, but nothing comes to mind. At that moment room service arrives with more pizza, so I put the object into my pocket and decide to give it more thought later.
We sit and eat and watch an episode of The Simpsons. It’s a rerun. Everything on the television seems to be reruns and old movies. I wander out onto the balcony where day has begun to give way to evening. Clouds have swallowed the sky again. I haven’t seen the stars since, well, I don’t know when. As the sky darkens, the city lights slowly come to life. It’s a beautiful sight.
After a while I begin to think about Brodie and Dan’s powers. It seems strange they have inherited abilities, but I don’t seem to be any different to any other person. Looking down at my hands, I point them at planter boxes and vases.
Rise, I command.
Nothing happens.
I hear something stifling a laugh behind me.
Brodie.
“Laugh all you want,” I tell her. “I will have my revenge.”
“Good luck with that.”
We both lean on the railing and look out at the city. She is so close her arm is almost touching mine. I get the irrational sense that I want to touch her hand, but I know it would freak her out. Instead, I give her a smile. She doesn’t disappoint me. She smiles back.
“Aarrgh.”
The voice comes from behind us.
Dan.
He stumbles onto the balcony as if in pain. He has his hands clasped tightly over his ears as if trying to shut out a loud noise.
“What is it?” I ask.
He looks at us fearfully. “I can hear voices,” he says. “Two people. Kids like us. They’re screaming.”
Brodie and I exchange glances.
“They’re screaming,” I echo dumbly.
He nods. “Yes,” Dan says. “They’re being tortured by that man Ravana.”