The Troll

by Darr, Brian

  The Troll nodded, remembering fondly.

  “He then went on a rampage, but this time, it didn’t have the feel of logical antagonizing. It was a passionate rant, ripping into people who tell themselves they’re about faith, but pray when they’re in trouble, or say they’re about the environment but couldn’t tell you the origin of anything they’ve bought in the last year.”

  “That’s great,” The Guide said. “You basically tell everyone they’re bad people. Nice going.”

  “Do me a favor Guide,” The Troll said, suddenly on his feet and ready for a fight. His fingers started moving and in the moment, he missed his keyboard. “Before Psi came along, what were your five core philosophies?”

  The Guide thought for a second. “Help people who are starving, find happiness daily, service to community, improve the environment, and put an end to animal abuse.”

  “But on any given day, if you listed your actions in order of time spent doing them, your real list of values would look different. Nobody wants to say they’re wasting life because 80% of their time is spent working, shitting, commuting, because we were all exhausted from scraping by to get everything we needed that we didn’t have the energy to do what we wanted, like going swimming with octopus or making pizzas in funny shapes, but instead we drink a fifth and cry ourselves to sleep every night. And then you leave your therapists office convincing yourself you’re not a completely useless bag of cells doing drone work most of your life. You don’t actually believe your list of values. This shit fails for the same reason the self-esteem stuff fails. You can look in the mirror and say “I’m special. I’m awesome,” all day, but if you’re not actually doing anything special or awesome, you’re lying to yourself, and long term, that method of insisting the “real” you is wonderful and capable regardless of your actual actions, is toxic. The reality will keep lurking in the weeds. That’s why you can ask someone where they see their life five years down the line and they rattle off a bunch of things they’re not currently working toward at all. They just assume the future Them is different from the current Them, just as they assume on the inside they’re a different person than what their everyday actions reflect. We’re monsters Guide. I mean it. Greedy, cruel, uncaring pieces of shit. We all are, and we know it. That item wrapped in plastic you bought yesterday? The environmental damage its production and existence cause will still be felt a thousand years from now. When you decide to throw it out, it will go the way of all plastic and end up in the ocean, right after chilling on a huge toxic pile of trash that starving people in third world countries sort through, looking for something worth selling. But it will still end up on a huge island of plastic in the ocean, where the sunlight will photo-degrade it into microscopically small bits, which are eaten by fish, poisoning them. Every time you use plastic, that’s what you support Guide. And that’s just the damage from throwing it out. Don’t even get me started on the production.

  Those animal products you’re eating? Yum, right? Well, did you know that aside from causing enormous amounts of damage to the environment and wasting mind boggling amounts of water, it takes 7 calories of plant matter to produce 1 calorie of meat? People are starving on this planet, not because they don’t have enough natural resources and arable land to feed themselves, but because that land is used to grow corn and soy which is fed to farm animals, which become burgers eaten by you. Yes, every bite of meat you take is the direct cause of someone else starving.

  What’s that you’re wearing? Cool shirt. Shame it probably contains quite a lot of toxins and was most likely produced under horrible inhumane conditions by underpaid workers who live in the factory complex where they work and are the modern day equivalent of slaves. It’s sad and all, but who cares about that when you’re worried about that time you saw someone abuse their dog and you were prepared to lynch them.”

  The Guide shouted unexpectedly, and it silenced The Troll. “Why can’t you do this to them?”

  “To who?”

  “To The Moderator? The population? Why are you trying to make good people feel low instead of using your brain for an actual cause?”

  “I agree,” Iris said. “That’s the whole point.”

  “What is?” The Troll asked, directing his attention toward her.

  “You sit behind the safety of your computer, fighting battles and always winning. It’s in your nature to win. I followed your posts and I saw it in you: You refuse to lose. That’s why I picked you. Whether behind a computer or out in the world, people like you refuse to let others defeat them. That’s why you insulted everyone at the bounty hunter dinner. You knew they had the best of you and you took it back.”

  The Guide watched The Troll closely, waiting for a response. Iris really had the right idea, but she might have picked someone incapable—someone who tried to run away—who didn’t seem to have what it took to face The Moderator. He was the one man who The Troll couldn’t even address at dinner. The Troll shook his head slowly and his hands found his pockets.

  “I get it,” he said. “And I wish I could do what it is you want, but I believe the world is just fine, and I don’t think it will ever go back to how it was before, and I don’t know if anyone wants it…”

  He was cut off by the sputter of gunfire and before they could try to find the source of the noise, two lines of holes in the barn wall suddenly formed and appeared in a line across the ceiling as the buzzing sound of a helicopter overhead passed.

  “Shit!” The Guide yelled. “We gotta go.”

  He didn’t bother to question how they were found. He ran to the door and as he swung it open, he realized they were trapped. Walking toward them from fifty feet away was The Coach, The Mortician, and The Acrobat. Overhead, the chopper circled, which carried The Pilot wearing his usual frozen expression.

  The Guide slammed the doors closed and ran to The Troll. “You need to give me Rainbow now.”

  “No,” The Troll said. “You can’t just leave me here.”

  “It’s all we can do. If they catch you, Iris and I still have a chance.”

  “We’re all getting out of here together,” Iris said.

  Another line of bullets ripped chunks of wood from the barn and worked its way toward where Iris stood. The Guide suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her aside. The chopper passed overhead, but the threat was at the door now. The shadows of three people under the barn door stretched across the ground.

  The sound of the chopper blades began to circle back around as The Guide shoved a large block of wood in front of the doors to block them from opening, but it wouldn’t last long.

  “Come on out Troll!” The Coach shouted through the doors. “You’re done!”

  Chapter 4

  The Guide ran across the barn when he saw The Troll reaching for the latch. “What are you doing?” he asked frantically.

  “We don’t have a choice,” The Troll said.

  “Are you insane? Stall!” The Guide said.

  They both suddenly looked up as they realized the helicopter was circling the barn.

  “We’re trapped,” The Troll said. “We have a better chance if we talk to them.”

  “Talk through the door. Iris and I will take the chopper down.”

  The Troll didn’t like that the Guide seemed to have teamed up with Iris, but couldn’t deny that they were invested in their cause while The Troll was anxious to stab them in the back. Iris was exactly the kind of girl The Troll liked though, and not in the way that he would catcall her from his keyboard. She looked like the girl next door that every guy in the neighborhood wanted. Part of The Troll had been aware of just how consumed he was with the real world—just how unique and adventurous the position he’d been thrust into was. He’d played games on-line and pretended the avatar was him and it was always thrilling, but somehow he wasn’t able to find that same sensation. The fear of death was in the way, but as he watched Iris and The Guide jump into action, he realized that they either didn’t believe they were goi
ng to die, or didn’t care. He couldn’t understand how a cause could be more important than living. If he died right now, he’d have no way of knowing if they even won. He’d die assuming they’d lose, and it would be for nothing. But he was forced to adopt their attitude for the time being because there was no other option and deep down, he knew The Guide was right. If the bounty hunters broke through the doors, The Troll was likely dead—especially since The Pilot was out there.

  He told himself to get on board. He didn’t believe it possible that The Guide could take down the chopper, but what if he could? And what if they got away? And what if they made it to Vegas?

  “So how did you cheat?” The Troll shouted through the door. It was all he had…taunting…putting them on the defense.

  “Open up!” The Coach shouted. “Or we’ll burn it down!”

  “You don’t want me to open the door!” The Troll shouted back. “Because I’ll fight you.”

  There was a long pause on the other side and then the sound of muffled laughter. They believed he was outnumbered, but they didn’t know he had company that was willing to fight. They’d have to beat the chopper first, and since there was no real hurry on their end, The Troll knew he could stall for a while. “Who’s all out there?”

  “Me, The Acrobat, and The Mortician. The Pilot is overhead! You don’t have a chance!”

  “What will you do to me when I come out?”

  “What do you think?” The Coach shouted with joy in his voice.

  “I thought you were all supposed to compete to catch me! Why are you teaming up?”

  “Who cares?!”

  “Who will get the credit for the kill?”

  “You’re wasting time!”

  “Why wouldn’t I dumb-ass?” The Troll asked. He wanted to regret calling them names, but for a moment, he realized this was fun. Maybe more fun than scary.

  “Because if you make it hard on us, we’ll make your death slow!”

  The Troll bit his lip, unsure of how to proceed. He was successfully scared. The last thing he wanted was pain. He turned and saw The Guide and Iris were gathering supplies from the barn. Pieces of scrap and metal tools. They were tossing them to the second level in a pile. He was relieved just to know they had a plan. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin it. He had to keep going.

  Iris ran up the ladder to the second story and to the corner of the barn where the roof descended and met the wall. She ran her fingers across the wall, searching for a loose board. When she found it, she tugged, keeping track of where the chopper circled at all times. When it was on the other end of the barn, she’d pull until the boards were loose enough that a whole person could climb onto the roof. She kept pulling at boards until two people could.

  Meanwhile, The Guide found everything that wasn’t nailed down in the barn: Shovels, hoes, tractor equipment, and most importantly: Ropes, chains, and a barb wire coil. He turned from Iris to The Troll. The longer they held the bounty hunters off, the more hope he had. He watched The Troll for a moment, disgusted that he'd almost opened the door.

  When all supplies were gathered, Iris joined him as they bound everything together, wrapping barbed wire and rope around each tool until it was one large haphazard net of metal, wood, and wire. “We’ll have one shot at this,” The Guide said, and Iris nodded. They both turned to where The Troll stood, yelling through the door, but he was running out of time.

  The door shook as it was hit from the outside and the wooden barricade shook with each hit. Eventually they would break through.

  “Let’s go,” he said and Iris and The Guide slipped through the opening.

  The Troll stood frozen, watching the door and expecting it to burst open at any moment. Suddenly the thuds stopped and everything was quiet except for the sound of the chopper. The Troll looked up and saw Iris’s leg as it slipped from a hole they’d created in the barn. “Great,” he said to himself and shook his head. They could easily run off without him and leave him to die.

  Or he could transmit now. The Moderator had said that at any point in time, he could do it. He felt the shape of Rainbow in his pocket. He knew he didn’t have much time. He reached in his pocket frantically, ready to save himself and end this once and for all, but suddenly felt a gust of air whiz down behind him. He turned just as The Acrobat fell into place. The last thought he had before a side-kick knocked the wind out of him and sent him into the barn wall was that the wiry little guy must have climbed the outer wall and used his acrobatics to work his way into the barn.

  The Troll sat up as The Acrobat walked to the door. “Wait!” he shouted, but The Acrobat kept moving, seemingly about to unlatch the door. He quickly stood and rushed the man, trying to wrap his arms around him, but The Acrobat side stepped him easily and sent The Troll face first into the hay. “Come on man,” The Troll said. “Do me a favor. You were the nice one.”

  The Acrobat kept moving, but The Troll pulled himself into a running stance and rushed him again, this time connecting his shoulder with The Acrobat’s back. Both men fell forward and crashed into a bench, a tangle of arms and legs. The Acrobat was the better fighter, but wound up by happenstance, pinned under The Troll’s body. Acrobat brought his free foot up and to The Troll’s surprise, kicked him in the face, knocking The Troll on his back again.

  Blood fell in a stream and this time, as The Troll watched The Acrobat get to his feet, he knew he wouldn’t get up.

  The helicopter flew by again, withholding fire as if waiting to see how the men on the ground fared out. The Guide and Iris crouched at the edge of the roof, praying they wouldn’t be seen before their opportunity arrived. The chopper flew in patterns, and eventually it would come straight over the roof.

  They positioned themselves, holding opposite ends of their net, both with one knee wedged on the roof and a foot holding them in place. “I’m going to get his attention,” Iris said, and started crawling up the roof for visibility.

  The Guide tried to stop her, but Iris began her climb quickly, her mind made up. It could work, but The Guide was unusually protective of her. When she reached the top, she waived her hand to get The Pilot’s attention. He wasn’t sure she was seen until the sound of the helicopter suddenly changed and the propellers shifted in their direction. She waived to The Guide and he began his climb, trying to pace himself to reach the top as the chopper did. As he neared the high point, he felt the wind of the propellers. Iris and The Guide found each others eyes and with a mutual understanding, they both stood on the very top holding the net.

  The chopper moved forward with guns aimed. They threw the net high and for a moment, it was suspended in the air, the weight of the net fighting the power of the propellers. Then, a chain caught and—a little at first—then all at once, the whole thing was sucked into the propellers and as they cascaded down the roof to get away, the propellers began clunking and sparks flew, and then halted all together.

  The Guide watched as the chopper began a free-fall and he watched in shock as he saw The Pilot, who’s face was frozen without reaction or fear.

  The Acrobat reached the door and had his hand on the wooden lever when suddenly the helicopter crashed through the corner of the barn, bringing a shower of wooden splinters and smoke with it. It came straight down, but the propellers were stuck in place.

  The Acrobat dived to the side and The Troll hurried backward, but not fast enough. As the barn collapsed inward a wall at a time, The Troll ran across the room and dived behind a pile of haystacks. He looked up long enough to see the world darken as it all caved in.

  Iris stood outside the remaining wall with The Guide, hugging the wall with their bodies, uncertain of the fate of The Troll and the bounty hunters on the other side.

  “They thought he was the only one inside,” The Guide said as a thought began formulating in his head.

  “So what?”

  “See if he’s okay,” The Guide said, speaking quickly. “I’ll lead them away. There’s a town about ten miles to the west. Go ther
e with the Rainbow and meet me at the precinct. Make sure it’s just you, and The Troll if he’s okay, but make sure you have Rainbow. Meet me there.”

  They found each others eyes again and The Guide desperately hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he saw Iris. There was a time that The Surfer and Wigeon were the faces of the revolution, but suddenly he’d been cast into the spotlight and had run into the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—a woman who fought for the same cause.

  “Find me,” he said, and suddenly turned and ran.

  Iris ducked down and watched as The Guide sprinted for the tree-line. He was halfway across the field, headed for the opening The Troll had tried to escape through the night before, when the sound of The Coach’s voice shouted and he and The Mortician abandoned the barn and began the chase. After a moment, The Guide disappeared in the trees, which brought a smile to her face. Thirty seconds later, The Coach and Mortician disappeared too.

  Then, Iris was alone.

  The Guide jumped the tangles of weeds and ducked under thickets of branches, easily evading and putting distance between himself and his pursuers. He ran toward the left, knowing people instinctively run to the right. Eventually, he couldn’t hear them behind him anywhere. The thicket covered a lot of ground, and the longer they couldn’t find him, the better the odds were that they wouldn’t. The time for worrying about himself ended, and his thoughts turned to Iris. He hoped she was safe—that The Pilot was dead and that she’d be able to find The Troll in the mess.