Greenhaus:Storm

by Reckelhoff, Bryan

  “I need a hand. Hurry, we don’t have much time,” Sylvia told him. She grabbed the metal pry rod attached to the closed half of the door and braced herself. “Like this,” Sylvia said as she showed Jacob how to set his body to open the second half of the hatch.

  They both straddled the opening in the floor, and pulled mightily on the pry rod. With another creak, the hatch opened. A dusty Doyle climbed out of the hole as Sylvia said, “Quickly, Doyle, we only have thirty seconds to reset the room and open it before Medics will be at the door, coming to cleanse him.”

  “Jacob, your transfer request is complete, effective immediately,” he said, as Sylvia went back to the power switch for the door into Annex 22. “Power-down will be coming early today. In about an hour. And it will last the rest of the day.” He spoke fast, in short, choppy sentences. “You need to be on the next Beebe to Newer Orleans, where you will stay for six weeks.” Then he lowered his voice and turned his back to Sylvia before instructing Jacob, “Here are the details of your first mission.” Doyle handed Jacob a scrolled piece of paper, which Jacob tucked into his Nu-Skin. “Cross-shred it after reading. Report progress directly to me, and only me. Remember, keep quiet and stay safe. Any future correspondence from me will be sealed with this stamp and must also be shredded.” He flashed a ring, with a raised imprint of a wrench crossed through a lowercase ‘e.’ “Sylvia has the rest of the details.”

  Doyle disappeared into the floor and Jacob rushed to close the cover to the opening. Once the panel with the padded leather chair was in place Sylvia yelled, “Jacob hit the power button for the door into twenty-three, I will get twenty-two’s.”

  The instant she pressed it, the circular airlock door whooshed, triggered by the EPC’s of the approaching Medic team. She exited, off to wait for Jacob in Zone 15 of Central as the Medics entered to perform the necessary work. The routine took less time than a normal detox, as Jacob’s day had been cut short by Sylvia’s impromptu visit.

  Wes and the rest of the Annex 23 crews were filtering in to say their goodbyes before getting lunch and a detox of their own. Jacob was leaving, and was hopeful that this was his last day working on this annex. He had no idea what the future held, what type of projects Doyle would assign him to, but he suspected he might not ever see some of these men again. Tomorrow a replacement would join Wes on the beams to finish the project and daily demand would continue to be met. The machine just replaces the cogs to keep itself running.

  Jacob had many reasons to be excited about his six weeks in Newer Orleans: to repair the ‘Haus, to continue his training, and last, but not least, to see where things went with Sylvia.

  The cleansing left his skin effervescent, while his mind remained clouded. Departing Decon, something hit him. I may meet some of these men at future job sites, but Decon will be gone forever, removed and the tunnel covered up, which begged the questions: What else has been covered up? What else are they hiding?

  In deep, but unable to turn back, Jacob sought to clear his mind. A quick detour brought him to his mother’s unit. He buzzed the door and then summoned a pod.

  Whoosh.

  “Well, isn’t this just the best surprise?” His mother cheerfully greeted her only son.

  “It’s good to see you too, but I don’t have much time,” he replied.

  “Nonsense, sit down for a cup of tea, I’ll put some water on now.”

  “Mom, don’t. I can’t stay long. In fact, I just came here to tell you something,” Jacob paused. He wanted to tell her the real reason he was off to Newer Orleans, to be like his dear ol’ dad. Instead he offered only the basics. “I’m being transferred to Newer Orleans for six weeks, to help with repairing the damage from the attack.”

  “Jacob, is everything okay? You don’t look so good,” she observed as she felt his forehead.

  He pulled away, bothered by the attention. “I’m fine. I just stopped by to say goodbye.”

  “Well, give your momma a big hug then.”

  As the two embraced, Jacob hoped she didn’t feel his heart racing. He knew there was a possibility he wasn’t coming back, that he really could end up like his father and Jasper. It could be the last time they ever hugged, so he held her extra tight. He was the first to pull away, and saw tears in her eyes. “I’ll be back in six weeks.”

  “I know,” she replied. “It’s just… I’m so proud of you, Jacob. You really are just like your father.”

  Whoosh. The door opened as Jacob walked backward through it. In more ways than you will ever know. “Six weeks, mom. See ya then.” Whoosh.

  The door closed, separating mother and child. The glass floor opened. Before Jacob stepped into his pod, he looked down the hall. An empty walking tread spun down the hall in both directions, which meant there was no one to look upon potted plants, no one to sniff the sweet aroma of the flowering buds or to trigger the bothersome kiosks.

  After entering his pod and securing his harness, he punched in the coordinates to his own unit. The pod zipped him toward his destination while he occupied the time thinking of what else was being hidden or covered up and by whom.

  The pod delivered him to his unit and zipped off to pick up its next rider. Jacob’s visit didn’t last long, out of fear he would once again become sentimental. After grabbing a few things for his trip and stuffing them into his blue and white duffel bag, he hopped another pod to the nearest bank of central elevators.

  People of the ‘Haus zoomed past him in elevators going in both directions, until one stopped and opened before him. Jacob stepped across the threshold and looked through the floor below, seeing nothing, but wondering if things were there that couldn’t be seen. If one only knows where to look.

  As the glass doors, clear except for some frosted glass trim, slid shut, Jacob pushed the button for Zone 12 on the control panel. A sucking noise shot him upward toward his destination. He gripped his bag, something that had caught the old Jacob’s attention in a shop in Zone 5 when he a kid. The once prized possession was now devoid of sentiment, like so many other things in his world.

  Sylvia waited as he stepped off the elevator and greeted him with a long kiss, so that anyone watching would know the reason for her visit, then added, “I’ve missed you so much baby,” saying it plenty loud enough for the eavesdroppers to hear.

  Jacob enjoyed the kiss and replied, “Me, too,” before Sylvia walked toward the central booking desk.

  Karl arranged for them to be on the next two Beebes to Newer Orleans, and then disappeared into the floor. Jacob and Sylvia boarded their respective Beebe’s and departed. A happy Jacob relaxed as he traveled through the merging tubes. Jacob had only started to realize it, but he had become a carbon copy of his father. A builder. Paranoid. An investigator. An agent of truth. A proponent of the Founding Father’s mission and their Green Constitution. They stood for the same things, had the same conviction for the cause, and offered their lives as collateral.

  Jacob had entered into a world he knew very little about, but was eager to learn all he could as fast as possible. The same had been true about Harvard, but it had cost him his life. Jacob would do everything he could to avoid the same fate, while at the same time advancing their mutual cause. Jacob swiveled his chair around, to get a last look at the only place he had ever called home. A single tear formed, but he didn’t allow it to fall, wiping it from the corner of his eye.

  New St. Louis started to shrink as his Beebe raced in the opposite direction. A deep breath cleansed him as he turned around to face the front. He caught sight of something on the ground to the east. Something so shocking he gasped aloud before letting out a scream of terror. It was a sound no one would hear, an auditory warning trapped within the Beebe. Unable to help or warn against the advancing threat, Jacob kept screaming until he lost his voice, then he broke down and cried. This time more than a single tear came and he was powerless to stop them from falling.

  Chapter 32 (Ella Storm)

  Battery clamps crashed into the row of lights abo
ve her and a shower of glass rained down. Unfazed by the falling debris, Ella grabbed a chair, spun it 180 degrees, and hurled it into a stack of storage compartments with a ferocious yell, adding to the great racket of many things breaking.

  Ella spared nothing. If she could pick it up, she threw it. If she couldn’t throw it, she threw something at it. Tools, knives and chairs all took flight aboard the Air Ella Express. A powerful thrust kick knocked over the row of full oxygen tanks as Zac burst in, pistol drawn, dodging the tanks as they spilled toward the entrance.

  He quickly holstered it seeing she was alone and offered, “Sorry, I thought you were in trouble. I heard the noises…”

  “Ahhh!” Ella screamed, still breathing heavily and gasping for air.

  Zac stood, mouth agape, shocked at the sight of it all. “What’s wrong?”

  Ella was now hyperventilating. The exertion of her run and wrecking the innards of the tent had taken her breath away. “Are –the- vehicles- ready?” she asked, throwing words in between the sucking noises caused by her fast inhales and exhales.

  “They are, but we don’t have many shells left. There are only ten to share among the four vehicles,” Zac replied. “I sent Swifty for more and it will be at least a day before they return, but they will bring more of the green hulks too. I know you said we didn’t need more, but…”

  Ella shook her head violently back and forth, screamed again, and slammed her hands on the table. Zac flinched and cowered into a protective stance. Ella flipped the plywood top onto the floor and kicked over the barrels that formed the legs of the table. She chased down one of the retreating barrels, grabbed it, and then threw it into the line of empty oxygen tanks lined up along the front wall of the tent, knocking them over like a row of dominoes.

  Her abnormal breathing continued, broadcasting loud and clear through her mask. Ella growled. “Then they will attack in a second wave. I will leave Jeremiah and Ren to command them,” she informed him. “We move out at once. Go ready the vehicles for the attack.”

  Zac left the tent in a blur, leaving Ella to ponder what had caused the rage to come flooding back. It had happened when she saw Stranger Friend with the Lady in Red, but she had no explanation for it. The warm feeling that encompassed her body when she met him through the glass or thought of him afterward had left her, replaced by an icy, cold feeling, made worse every time she thought of him with the Lady in Red.

  Ella wished she could control her emotions. The warm feelings were more pleasant. She had lived her whole life in a world of red, driven by vengeance and seeking retribution. Seeing Stranger Friend started to change all of that, but she was afraid the feelings he brought out in her were gone forever, buried deep in a subconscious that had no chance of resurfacing and saving her before it was too late. Her decision to attack was wrong and she knew that. Many lives would be lost, possibly her own, but she didn’t care.

  Ella was also wrong about another thing. The feelings Stranger caused in her were not gone forever. The distinct rumble of the engines filled the air as Zac fired up the instruments of death. That sound—and the destruction that would soon come forth from the vehicles that made it—brought the warm fuzzy feeling racing back once again, but for different reasons.

  The rage had returned, though in all actuality it had never left. It just simmered below the surface, waiting patiently for New Ella to break. Her psyche may have set it aside while it explored other emotions, but it never let the rage leave her. Ingrained in the fabric of who she was, it had much too strong a hold of Ella for her to escape it. Whatever emotions had cloaked Ella’s rage were now dead. Old Ella returned. Anger, rage, revenge, retribution, the four pillars that supported the heavy weight that was the mind, body, and soul of Ella Storm, were back in full effect and on display.

  She summoned the rest of her crew, to break the news to them. The first to arrive was her number two. “Jeremiah,” she began while taking a huge gulp of air. “More vehicles are coming soon, and you will lead a follow up attack.”

  Jeremiah was stunned, his eyes doubled in size when she informed him of her new plan, one that contradicted all of their conversations in the previous days. “But Ella, I thought…” he began, before she quickly cut him off.

  “Elder Storm,” she shouted as she pounded her fist into her hand repeatedly. “Address me as Elder Storm!”

  “Elder Storm,” whimpered the man who was twice her size, but with only half of her heart. “I thought you wanted me to take Niles and Jordan and head south. To escape all of this. To search for the Oasis. For adventure.”

  Far past the point of being simply frustrated, Ella balled up her fists and straightened her arms at her side, letting out a primal scream louder than all the rest, “Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

  A startled Jeremiah fell backwards, stumbling over the remains of a chair. When he regained his footing Ella continued, “There has been a change of plans, new information has been presented. The letter….” she said before an extended pause, “was a lie. It was a trap set by the Rangers. Those on the Inside cannot be trusted.” Lying through her mask, she knew Jeremiah wouldn’t know the truth. Ella alone controlled the flow of information.

  “What happened? You seemed so calm and at ease last night,” a trembling Jeremiah whimpered.

  Ella stared a hole through him. “Things have changed, that’s all you need to know. The attack must happen at once, we can no longer delay. During the next power-down. It happens today. Shortly.” The sentences blurted out during the brief intervals of her recurring hyperventilation were short, mirroring her temper.

  Ella’s Elders had warned her about this attitude. In the end, they were right, but it would not be the Sickness that would take her, but a sickness of a different sort. A sickness of the mind, one that rotted her to the core. One that killed any sympathy toward those on the Inside as well as those she commanded. “Now go and spread the word. Sound the alarm and get everyone in position, and then start them on a march to the hills near Glass City. Tell them to wait for me there,” she demanded. “This is what we have been preparing for. The time is right and we are ready. Soon we will feast from their table!”

  Jeremiah couldn’t remove himself from the tent fast enough, revealing a speed in his motion the normally slothful man kept hidden.

  Ren, the next to get the news, stayed true to her nature. No hint of any resistance; in fact, she showed little emotion for someone who knew her end was near. She said nothing until Ella asked if she would fight with her. Her reply was soft and quiet, “I am with you till the end, like I said from day one.”

  “Good, that is where I want you fighting, at the end, in the second wave.” Ren’s submissive, obedient nature calmed Ella, where Jeremiah’s resistance brought out the demons. “Stay here with Jeremiah, and attack with the second wave. For now, go with Jeremiah, Niles, and Jordan. Leave the fortress and do not return until the rumble of the Beast is out of earshot.”

  After Ren’s dismissal, Ella instructed the guards to usher everyone into the main courtyard near the gates. Ella waited for the New Ella, the one who used logic to dictate her actions, to pop back up and reverse her decision.

  It never happened. New Ella had lost control. New Ella no longer had a pulse.

  Reality slapped her hard. Old Ella was always in control, and New Ella caused the inner turmoil, briefly gaining a foothold in her psyche. Like any other mirage, it faded with time. Ella gritted her teeth and gnashed them back and forth as the sirens wailed. She laced up her boots for the long walk, and pounded them into the dust and dirt until reaching the gates. The sirens finally stopped and Ella wasted no time in addressing her subjects. Close to forty strong remained hanging on her every word, with the others already in procession to Glass City.

  “All your preparations have been for this moment. Most of you will be leaving the fortress with me. A handful will report to Jeremiah, to watch the fortress until I return,” Ella boomed. “I have watched the Glass City for days and days on end. I’ve made several
trips to the glass. They are vulnerable, the time to attack is now.”

  The crowd began to come alive, tapping their weapons on the ground. Whether it was a rifle, shovel, pitchfork, or any of the other assorted weapons amassed in the crowd, most seemed eager to put them to use.

  “The Beast will lead the way, and attack at the southeast portion. The defenses are always powered off. Our other vehicles will fan out on the south wall and wait for the Beast to draw the Rangers out, before coming over the hills to provide cover for our advancing foot soldiers.”

  After hearing the outline of her plan, the Storm camp set out. Ella returned to the Elder tent and searched for reasons why Old Ella had resurfaced with a greater fury and vengeance. Something snapped inside her when she saw Stranger Friend and the Lady in Red embrace and lock lips. At that moment, for reasons she didn’t understand, the Lady in Red turned her whole world red. Ella had begun to soften, but was now possessed by a host of demons hell-bent on bringing destruction to Glass City and those who lived in it. The raw emotions she experienced rarely asked for permission before surfacing and never apologized upon arrival.

  The camp all around her went about its business, readying for what even the Old Ella knew was a probable death march. She sat in a corner, curled up on a cot, shaking. The rumble of the large vehicles receded as they moved away from the fortress and into position for the attack. Shouts and commands were given by those she put in charge. The sounds of those obediently scurrying about the fortress followed.

  As she trembled, Ella slipped off her mask and took deep breaths of heavy air. The background noise distracted her for a short while until a monumental realization focused her attention. What have I done? The gravity of the situation weighed heavy. She sat on her cot, head in her hands, contemplating her decision and the future consequences. Emotions overwhelmed her, exhaustion overpowered her. Deep thought turned to light sleep, and while Ella had no recollection of dozing, she knew her slumber was brief because dreams hadn’t yet had a chance to lessen the powerful emotions racking her brain. The musty air she strangely enjoyed filled her lungs for the final few times as Ella exited the tent.