Escape from Harrizel

by C. G. Coppola

  Once they’re gone, Reid spins to me. “What’s going on?”

  “She doesn’t remember Hinson.”

  He studies my face, searching for any hint of doubt or mistake. Surely he misheard. “What do you mean she doesn’t remember Hinson?”

  “She doesn’t remember her,” I shake my head, stressing, “at all.”

  Reid slips his hand in mine, pulling me back through the Maze. We’re obviously not following the others so… where are we going? After a few turns, we reach another dead end. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust but then I see it—the nearly invisible outline ahead.

  “Are you serious?” How many hidden exits are there in this place? And how does Reid know so many? “Do the Dofinikes know about these?”

  “Please,” he laughs, “you think they’d let us use them if they knew they were here?”

  He pushes the door back until it locks into place and slides it to the left. Diving through the four-foot gap, he gestures me to follow and I climb in behind him, finding myself in a compact hall. I run my fingers along the cool marble wall, the same as the ones outside.

  “This way,” Reid disappears into the blackness.

  I hold out the Callix. All I can see are Reid’s slippers walking their way out of my light’s limited glow. “Where are we going?”

  “You want proof?” his voice escapes from the dark. “Real proof?”

  “Of what?”

  “That they can’t remember. If what you’re saying is true, I want more of a test subject than Raj.”

  “Well…” I think a moment, “who’s not likely to forget Hinson?”

  “Exactly,” Reid turns, walking backwards. His face catches in the glow of my Callix, the corner of his mouth perking into a stomach tingling grin. “I’m not one for gossip but it was a matter of fact—Griffin and Hinson were inseparable. The whole star-crossed lover thing…” his smile weakens for a second, “…or, whatever. It was sickening. The amount of time they hung on each other, like they’d implode if some part of them wasn’t attached. You’d think they’d have a million babies.”

  “And they never had any?”

  “Nope.”

  “How do you know? I haven’t seen a single baby since I’ve gotten here. And no one’s pregnant either. Isn’t that what the Dofinikes want? Repopulating?”

  “Sure is.”

  “So where are all the babies?”

  “They’re kept upstairs,” he says without missing a beat. “That’s what all the building is for.”

  “And you believe that?”

  “Do you?” he throws me a look. “No one’s seen a baby.”

  “A toddler?” I try, “a child?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Then how do you know—”

  “I don’t,” he tosses me another look, his mouth dropping open. But his words get lost and he shakes his head, emerging back into the darkness. “We have to get to Griffin’s room.”

  I follow Reid to the stairwell at the end of the tunnel and after ascending what feels like fifty steps, we come to a dead end wall with the same nearly invisible outline. Reid pushes the door in, the wall locking into place and automatically sliding to the right. We emerge through the gap and into the tower, a few floors up.

  Reid jets down the darkened corridor and I trail behind, landing on the pads of my feet, right behind his. He slows, coming to a full stop at a crimson arch. I pause behind him but can only see the broad span of his shoulders. The door squeaks open and Reid and I slip in the tiny gap, closing it behind us.

  There’s a boy on the bed, hunched over and staring at the floor. He’s big like a football player with blonde, shaggy hair and large, ferocious hands. A despairing numbness paints his hollow face, which, under other circumstances, could be quite handsome.

  “Griffin,” Reid pauses, “you alright, buddy? You sick?”

  So this was Hinson’s boyfriend. I try to imagine the two of them together. Happy. In love. The cheerleader and the jock. Fast forward to today. Right now. The rotting corpse and the manic depressive. Is this what living on Harrizel does? After a few minutes, as if Griffin hadn’t noticed before, he finally acknowledges Reid.

  “Yeah. I guess.” His voice is weak, thin, as if it’s about to break.

  “Why aren’t you downstairs?” Reid probes further, crossing his arms over his chest, “What’s going on?”

  I pull the chair out, releasing a loud squeak in the room. Griffin doesn’t look up. He doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t accept it into his reality because that’s somewhere in his head. His lost, dark cloud of a head that no longer knows what’s happening.

  “Come on,” Reid huffs, “give me something.”

  “That’s the thing,” Griffin finally looks to him with pained eyes. “I don’t know.”

  We both pause, waiting to ask the same question.

  “You don’t know…?” Reid beats me to it.

  “Anything,” Griffin exhales with an exhausted shrug, “like the lights are all turned off. Just…” he shakes his head, trying to find the right words, the right way to explain the grief we both see, “…nothing important. There’s just nothing good.” He glances up again, shaking his head with a hint of fear in his wet, red eyes. “Has it always been like this?”

  “What do you mean?” Reid frowns.

  “I don’t know why I feel this way… but I do.” Griffin’s eyes begin to water as he bats them dry, scraping a knuckle over his left lid to catch remaining moisture. “It’s like there’s something missing. Like,” he takes a hearty, wet gulp of air, prepping his voice which still staggers as he speaks, “I shouldn’t be alive. Like it doesn’t mean anything. ”

  “How long have you been this way?”

  “I don’t know…” he looks out into space, studying it, trying to remember a time before all this. “Maybe always?” Glancing up, it’s as if he’s suddenly aware of who he’s been talking to, some evident failure flashing across his face. “Sorry, Rox… I’ll get back downstairs.”

  “Rox?” I shift focus from Griffin to Reid. “You’re Rox?”

  “Guilty.”

  I jump up—anger, surprise and the tiniest bit of betrayal ripping through me. “You never told me you were Rox.”

  “Didn’t think I needed to.”

  “It’s kind of important to leave out, don’t you think?”

  “Why?” he’s intrigued, crossing his arms, “change your opinion of me?”

  Does it?

  “I’m really sorry,” Griffin glances between us, attempting to wedge his apology in. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “You really couldn’t have told me?” I glare.

  “I could’ve,” he grins, still amused at my reaction.

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  Griffin clears his throat, “But I haven’t been watching—”

  “It’s alright,” Reid breaks our stare, his hands dropping to his waist. He finds focus with Griffin again, pacing, “You’re a good Client. Loyal. Trustworthy. Irie’s never had a complaint. Tell you what… I’ll add a Marowine a week if you come with us now and don’t repeat anything you see or hear.”

  Griffin nods. “Who’s us?”

  “You’ll see when we get there. This is Fallon,” he gestures to me. “You’ll meet the others in a bit. A Marowine a week,” Reid repeats, “to buy a few answers and keep your silence. Think you’re up for it?”

  Griffin nods.

  “Alright, let’s go,” Reid jets from the room, Griffin rising languidly behind him. I leave last, emerging into the outside hall, but Reid is already half-way back down the corridor, racing through the soft, dim glow of the babeebs. There’re only five Gizella trees the entire length, each with a handful of the humming yellow spheres. Reid doesn’t bother with them—Griffin either—both flying past, in and out of the shadows on the black, stone floor.

  Toward the very end of the hall, where the West side meets the North, Reid stops at the entrance to the stairwell. He pus
hes on the rectangular outline of the invisible door embedded in the marble. It opens like the others and he slides in, then Griffin, then me, the door closing again. It’s pitch black on the other side.

  “Fallon,” Reid calls. “The Callix.”

  I hand it over and he holds it out like a lantern, taking off down the stairwell. Reaching the ground, he sprints in a light jog, Griffin and I doing our best to keep up. After a few minutes, the smell begins to shift and I slow. We’re no longer encumbered with the dusty, aged marble, but instead, the scent of dirt. Wet dirt. Or is that plant life I smell?

  The footsteps ahead die down as I push faster, to a near run. Something tells me I’m not going to want to lose them. Not in here. I fly through the blackened burrow just in time to see Griffin’s blonde hair dash left where the tunnel forks in two. Keeping his moving form in view, this sudden feeling of autonomy deflates. I’m not free, I’m following. I can’t navigate these tunnels on my own.

  But Reid can.

  I jet past Griffin and reach Reid who veers left and then right, streams of tunnels interlocking with one another, the maze growing larger and larger. There’s no longer just one burrow to follow but a whole underground city of interweaving roads. I’m at Reid’s side, keeping to his swift pace. He chooses another tunnel without hesitation.

  “How do you know where you’re going?”

  He shrugs. “I’m down here a lot.”

  “It’s more than that,” I press. He doesn’t respond but pushes forward as if he didn’t hear me. “Are we going to pass the Water Pole?”

  “Different route.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Enough.”

  “It’s more than just being down here,” I keep pace with his wide strides, “how do you know?”

  “I just know.”

  “What gives it away?”

  “What makes you think something gives it away?” his eyes flicker to mine this time, trying to read their guesses. But I don’t have any. Each burrow looks the same—dark and narrow and coated with the scent of outside. But there’s got to be a roadmap to this underground city.

  “Everyone leaves breadcrumbs.”

  He finally stops with a sigh. “It’s the texture,” he takes my fingers in his and runs them along the hardened curve of the grainy, wooden wall. A quick shiver races through my bones, my fingers swelling at the touch of his. “Root or dirt. Root leads you back. Dirt leads nowhere.”

  “We’re running through roots? What kinds of trees have roots this big?”

  “Very large ones,” he laughs, dropping my hand. He turns and picks up speed. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

  We jog the rest of the short distance, my fingers outstretched and streaming the grainy, wooden walls, memorizing their texture, until we arrive at the same hovel from the other night. The others are already here. Vix and Clark claim opposite ends of the carved bench while Raj stands in the center, biting her thumb. Pratt and Sampson pace in the middle behind her, two babeebs atop each of their heads. Sampson looks up as Reid closes the door behind us.

  “Ah, you’ve arrived.”

  He motions to Griffin, “Had to pick up someone up.”

  “Now him too?” Clark jumps to an accusing stand, his arms flying wildly in the air. “Why don’t we just shout out our secret location to everybody?”

  “Griffin,” Raj gawks, “what’re you doing here?”

  “Rox…” he looks at Reid, then scans the others, “…says he has some questions. Maybe tell me why I feel like this.”

  “And how is it you feel?” Sampson softly poses. He motions for Griffin to take a seat at one of the open benches. Raj follows, sitting beside him and the two look up at Sampson.

  “You’re feeling…?”

  Raj starts first, though it’s obvious the question was directed at Griffin. “Scared,” she gulps, awaiting the explanation to all this. “What’s going on Sampson? Please tell us.”

  “And yourself?” he poses the question toward Griffin again.

  “Empty…” he says without meeting Sampson’s eyes, “…like… I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of this as soon we as know some information,” Sampson’s voice is strong, confident. “Now, you both took the pill?”

  Raj nods eagerly as Griffin tries to remember.

  “The pill?” his face scrunches in confusion.

  “The one for the berry juice poison,” Raj fills him in.

  “Oh yeah,” he remembers, “I did take a pill. Earlier. At Lecture.”

  “Me too, me too,” Raj looks back to Sampson, eyes bugged and waiting for a response. “So?”

  Sampson steps back to consider this as Reid approaches them, glancing from one to the other. “And do you either of you remember Hinson?”

  Raj shakes her head emphatically. Griffin, on the other hand, pauses at the sound of the name. It’s stirring something in him, but the name alone won’t work. It’s a clue, but a clue to what? He waits a moment, concentrating on that word—that name—before shaking his head in defeat. “No.”

  “It sounds familiar though?” I chime in, “Like you should know it?” I focus on Griffin, who’s still trying to work out the meaning of the name. “That’s because you should know it.”

  “And me?”

  I nod to Raj, unaware of the defeat in my own voice. “Yeah, you knew Hinson.”

  “Well who is she? What happened?” she asks.

  “We have a theory,” Sampson starts again, taking my place as I fall back past Pratt. I claim half a bench across from Vix as Sampson goes on, “This is the earlier phase, so please don’t be too harsh with us if the mystery is not quite unfolded tonight. We believe…” he starts, pausing to carefully select his words, “that the pill you both ingested earlier—the one for the berry juice—might cause memory loss. Memory loss of a specific person.”

  “What?” Raj gasps, “How?”

  “Well…” Sampson says, beginning to pace again, “let’s see if we can figure this out. You say the pill was for berry juice poison, correct?”

  Both nod.

  “How did they discover this poison? Surely an incident was reported?”

  “Yeah, they said there was some sort of berry juice infection,” Raj replies, “Someone got it.”

  “But who?”

  “I don’t know—they don’t know.”

  “So…” Sampson sums up, “when you went to Lecture, Beshib made mention of an infection and advised you all to take the pill?”

  Both Raj and Griffin nod.

  “I see…” Sampson goes on, directing his questions solely at Raj now, who doesn’t seem to mind, “and before the pill, can you remember us from the other night? Here, in this very burrow?”

  Raj opens her mouth to answer but closes it immediately, as if realizing it’s a trick question. She waits a moment, her eyes darting about, calculating. “I remember us,” she starts, “we were outside… but then in here. And talking.”

  “Can you remember about what?” I ask.

  Her face reddens, “…That I was a Kiss. And I’d be working for Rox,” she glances at him, then back at Sampson, hoping for the right answer, “and then…” We all wait, Raj holding us in suspense, “…I can’t remember.”

  Sampson nods. “I see.”

  “But I remember us out there,” she chirps quickly, “I do.”

  “Who’s Hinson?” Griffin’s meek voice finally breaks through.

  We all glance at each other but no one wants to answer. No one wants to reveal the horror. Finally, Reid clears his throat. He sits next to me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “She was your girlfriend. You were together as long as I’ve been here,” he stops, lowering his head. “You really loved her.”

  Griffin nods without meeting anyone’s eyes, his own moistening over like before. He runs the back of his hand across his nose and swallows so loudly, it echoes in the silence. “And you guys…” he finally says after a momen
t, “you guys didn’t take the pill? None of you?”

  We all shake our heads, except for Raj, who seems to fully understand what’s happening now.

  “How’d you know not to take it?”Griffin probes further.

  “We’ve…” Sampson addresses this question, “…been under suspicion for a while now that some things may not be as they seem.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “This is all new to us too,” Clark chimes in, “we’re just a step closer than you, is all.”

  Griffin nods, looking back to Sampson with assumed hope, “And an antidote? Is there any possibility?”

  “Perhaps. Each cause has an effect. It’s just a matter of sorting out a new cause and desired effect. I’d imagine it would be quite simple if I had the necessary tools and equipment.”

  “Were you a scientist in a past life?” Raj jokes but we all find this possibility too obvious. Maybe Sampson wasn’t a scientist in a past life. Maybe he’s one now, in this life. “Do you really think you could find an antidote?”

  “Not today,” he shakes his head, “or even tomorrow. I have no more pull than you all and as it stands, we are slaves to their will. It’d take some time and patience.”

  “I could wait,” Griffin says.

  “Well, we can make it one of our goals. Remedying this ‘memory charm.’ But until its reverse is discovered, don’t take any more pills, no matter what they say. No matter how they persuade you… who knows what you’ll wake up remembering.”

  “I don’t understand though,” Raj states, looking from Sampson to Reid, “why erase a person from our memory? What did Hinson do?”

  “The real question,” Reid counters, pulling at his chin as he falls back to the wall, “is why erase her now? They’ve never had to do it before.”

  “Yeah,” Clark adds, “it’s not like they do anything about it with the Snatchings. Dofinikes have been taking people or hiring the Kings to do it forever, and no one says a word.”

  “Is it random?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “Who they take.”

  Reid shrugs, sitting forward again with his elbows on his knees, “If it’s still the same, the Kings get the names from Tetlak. They’re the ones who pick the humans. And then the Kings get the Scouts and Clients to set the whole thing up.”