“No. You’re kidding. You’re lying. This can’t be happening.”
“It is happening. I wish these things had not happened but the evidence speaks for itself.”
“You’re making this shit up. What have I done to deserve this? I served this country admirably.”
“I am sorry, Sergeant Greer.”
Something inside of me propels me forward and the only thought I can remember is wanting to choke the life out of that motherfucker. There was a scuffle and then everything went black.
Dead. The three people I loved the most in my life. They are gone and they are saying I am the one who is responsible.
I still can’t comprehend all of this. It still makes no sense to me. They will have to show me a video of me killing them. I just can’t see myself doing this.
It’s bad enough they are gone. It’s even worse that I am the so-called killer.
It just makes no damn sense. I would never do such a thing.
What in the fuck is in my head?
I can feel it again. The pain is back. Why does the pain come and go?
Why don’t they just put me in front of a firing squad and end it all. I have nothing left to live for. My mother and father and Chantay. I lived for them.
And why am I not in a civilian court of law? Why am I not up for court martial? This does not make any sense. I know they want to know what is in my head but what about justice? I haven’t been charged with anything. The system is not acting in the way it should.
Man, eventually I am fucked big time. I am a black man in America. At some point the criminal justice system, be it civilian or military, is going to chew my ass up and spit me out.
OK, think Ripley. There has to be a rational explanation for this crazy mess. You didn’t kill your parents and you didn’t kill Chantay.
When was the last time you fought with your mother? You can’t remember can you? Damn near never. You probably haven’t had a serious fight with your mother since you were sixteen.
And your father. You learned a long time ago to accept him the way he was. He could be caustic and abrasive at times but you learned how to brush him off and to take the difficult parts of him in stride.
And Chantay… She was the love of your life. You never had and never would do anything to physically harm her.
No, if you did these awful things it was not you. It was that crazy shit in your head. The implant must’ve malfunctioned. The implant must’ve caused you to momentarily lose your mind.
Maybe whoever put that shit in your head wanted to see if they could make you kill against your will. Kill not just anyone, but people you loved.
If the military thought you killed the people you loved most on purpose, you wouldn’t be here right now. You would be in a real prison somewhere—you would be at a prison awaiting trial. You would have been court-martialed and you would have a military lawyer.
You didn’t kill your loved ones. It was the implant. It was that evil, sick implant.
“Sergeant Greer,” says Major Myles as he reaches out to shake my hand, “I wish you only the best. I am so sorry you are in this situation. I can tell you are truly sorry and confused by this whole situation. I know you would never kill those closest to you on purpose. The DOD is doing a serious study of your situation. I have read some of the files. None of this makes sense.”
“Thank you,” I say softly. I am still shell shocked. “Where are they taking me?”
“They won’t say.”
We are standing near a large door in a large hanger. My arms are handcuffed behind me.
“What can you tell from looking at the x-rays of my brain?”
“You mean the ct-scans? There is an extensive addition to your brain. This addition encompasses a large portion of your brain.”
“Good. Just great. That is good to know.”
“Keep your head up. I hope we will have some answers soon. From what I’m told they have a lot more equipment and expertise at the facility they are moving you too.”
“Thanks.” For some reason I don’t find this very reassuring.
A black bag goes over my head and then the large door starts to open. I can feel the chilly air bite against my skin as they walk me out of the facility.
We have only been on the road for around twenty minutes. My black hood is still on. There’s a group of three armored Humvees transporting me to my new black ops site. I’m assuming I’m in the middle transport. The military personnel in the Humvee with me say nothing.
I am getting sick of all of the silence and monotony but what can I do? There are too many of them.
Suddenly everything gets crazy. The Humvee flips on its side and then on the roof. I scream out and hear yelling and cursing around me. I can’t tell if any of the soldiers in my Humvee are injured. I am wearing a seatbelt. I hope the soldiers are wearing them as well.
In the distance, I hear the other two Humvees flipping or crashing.
This is so odd. There’s no gunfire. There are no explosions.
The soldiers accompanying me talk excitedly and I can hear them fumbling with their seatbelts. They want to get out and engage the attackers.
My wrists and ankles are shackled so there is not much I can do. I am a sitting duck. I feel sweat running down my body. I hope this is not the end for me. I would hate to die with a fucking black hood on my head. I would at least like to see the identity of my killer or killers.
The soldiers are still feverishly working their seatbelts and attempting to retrieve their M-16s. Everything then goes black.
Chapter 2
I regain consciousness. I can hear people moving around. I think there are three people in the room.
After a few minutes, they remove the black hood from my head.
The house is bare bones consisting of an old white stove and matching refrigerator. I take in my captors. They are two older black women and an older black man.
“How did you flip the Humvees?” I ask.
“Magic,” replies the older man in a matter of fact manner. He is a tall, slender, dark skinned bald man. He face is disfigured. It almost seems like his skin was burned. He appears to be in his early 70s.
“I’m serious. How did you take out the Humvee?”
“Magic,” replies the older man.
“Okkkaaaay.”
“Are you hungry?” asks an older women with short gray hair. She may be in her mid to late 60s but could be in her early 70s. She is a physically fit, brown-skinned woman. “You’ve been locked up in that hole for quite a while. You must have a taste for some good food. How about some fried chicken, spinach greens and yams.”
“That sounds good to me.”
“My name is Octavia Scott,” says the woman sitting at the table. She is a very attractive brown-skinned woman with long black hair. She appears to be in her late 40s or early 50s. “That is Kush Johnson,” she says pointing at her male companion, “and your wonderful cook for the evening is Maxine Silvercrest.”
Octavia has on an elegant dark gray robe with a black zipper down the front. Kush and Maxine have on black business suits.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Ripley Greer.”
“We know,” replies Octavia.
“You didn’t answer my question. How did you attack the Humvee?”
Octavia pulls away from the table.
“Watch me and the table,” says Kush in a strange accent. It’s almost West Indian, but I can’t place it. He flicks his hand and the heavy oak table flies off the floor and quickly rises toward the ceiling. He then gently lowers the table back to the floor. “As I said, magic.”
Octavia pulls her chair back to the table and looks at me.
“How did you do that?” I hear myself say.
“Mind over matter,” says Kush.
What the hell. First, I am held in some black hole DOD facility. Now I’m snatched by some magical beings from who knows where.
“Where are you from?” I ask
“Indianapolis,�
�� replies Maxine.
“Paris, France,” responds Kush
“Centralix,” says Octavia.
“Centralix?” I respond.
“It’s a long story,” she replies.
“I’m sure it is,” I reply.
“We want to help you figure out what’s in your head. We could use your services,” says Octavia.
“And what kind of services would I be providing?”
“You would be the good fighting against evil,” says Octavia.
“I see. Where am I?”
“Just over the border from Alaska in Canada.”
“OK,” I respond. That sort of makes sense I tell myself. It explains the colder air.
“Why me?” I ask.
“Your enhancement makes you very powerful,” says Octavia. “We are powerful through magic. You are powerful through technology.”
“I see. What do you know about this thing in my brain?”
“We think it has several functions,” says Octavia. “One, a communication device. Two, enhancement of mental faculties. Three, increased adrenaline production on short notice. And four, there is a possibility the technology is laid throughout your body to enhance your speed and strength. What where you told?”
“Not much. Only that the implant in my brain was put in by China or Russia.”
“You don’t believe that shit, do you?” says Kush in his low rumbling voice.
“No.”
“Your new tech is definitely an enhancement,” says Octavia. “It makes no sense for the Russians or Chinese to implant it in you and let you go. Besides, Russia has always been at least three or four steps behind the U.S. when it comes to military grade technology. The Chinese are getting better but they have only been competing with the U.S. for about 20 years. This is a U.S. based and operated technology.”
“OK. I see your point. I agree,” I say. “How did you know about me? How did you know where to find me?”
“I have a powerful software program looking for humans with special abilities,” says Octavia. “I also have very advanced drones patrolling the skies listening and watching for humans with supernatural abilities.”
“Drones like what Amazon wants to do?’ I ask.
“No, my drones are much smaller and a lot more powerful. My drones are very hard to detect.”
“It sounds like you have a very sophisticated intelligence system.”
“You are correct. I have access to numerous teams of hackers and a handful of well-placed and well-paid informants. I also regularly consult several powerful oracles.”
“I see, interesting,” I respond.
“You need answers,” says Octavia. “We need answers. We’re going to turn you loose for a while in a place called Suffragette City. Our world used to be a magical world. When magic left this world, it formed several smaller worlds that are not of this dimension. Suffragette City is a world of strong magic and strong science. You, we, can find answers there.”
“OK,” I reply.
Octavia sighs.
“Your girlfriend, Chantay Richardson, she is in Suffragette City,” says Octavia. “You can find her and make amends. As far as your parents go, the mediums there are good and their connections are a lot stronger due to the strong magic. You can talk and see apparitions of your parents. They will be able to see and talk to you as well.
All of this will happen at a place called Salvation Road in Suffragette City. Salvation Road is a beautiful and peaceful place that runs through the heart of the weird madness that is Suffragette City. You will visit many areas of The City but the heart of your visit is centered on Salvation Road. This road is the reason Suffragette City exists. Unfortunately, many of the residents of The City never realize this and must be shuffled on to another strange world to find their peace.”
There is a lump in my throat and sickness roils in my stomach.
“So I really did kill them,” I rasp.
“Yes, and no,” says Octavia. “The technology the government put into you obviously is still in a test phase. We believe the tech went haywire leading you to kill those closest to you. I am sorry for your losses.”
I gasp and my body starts to shake.
“It is a terrible thing,” says Maxine. She walks towards me and hugs me. I start to sob uncontrollably.
“I can’t believe it. Why? Why me?”
“You are good at what you do,” says Octavia as she stands up and walks towards me. “It sounds like the U.S. government is determined to create a super soldier out of flesh and bone.”
She gently strokes the close-cropped hair on my head.
“I don’t understand. Why would they do this to me?”
“You can’t take back what has happened,” says Octavia. “If you get answers—when you understand—life will become easier.”
My mind is still swimming. The pain in my head is back. It came back the morning after my escape and it has not gone away.
Maxine, from what they tell me, is a healer. She was worried there may be some sort of kill chip in the implant.
She burned some sage and played her guitar.
Maxine said she found an anomaly. She meditated, prayed and chanted for several hours and then she cooked up some herbal concoction and fed it to me. More chanting followed as she laid her hands on my head. The pain is not as bad as it was. She says I am no longer in danger.
What Octavia told me has blown my mind. Frankly, I don’t believe it all. I, of course, did not believe in levitating heavy oak tables or Humvees either. But a federation of 360 Earths? Half magic. Half rooted in science. That is a bit much to take in. She tells me I will be a believer once I am in Suffragette City for a while. We’ll see.
One of Maxine’s specialties is music. I guess the magic in Suffragette City is rooted in music. I have spent a lot of time listening to music on her iPod. Some of the music I know, much of it is new.
I think they’ve kept me busy so I wouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on the fact I murdered the three people closest to me.
My dreams have been crazy scary. Octavia has asked me to recount them so she could decode them for me but I don’t remember the details. All I know is I wake up in a cold sweat, scared out of my head.
So here I am standing before a man with gray skin and long white hair. He is a very odd man. He looks human other than his gray skin and his glowing red eyes.
He does a series of rapid chants after burning some herbs.
There is area in front of me that shimmers a bright white, smoky light. It is in the shape of a hexagon.
“Don’t be afraid,” says Octavia. “Everything will be fine. Remember what we have taught you and you’ll be fine.”
I take a deep breath and walk into the shimmering light.
Chapter 3
What was the trip like? Very disorienting. I was semi-conscious, as I seemed to have been falling. I remember a lot of brilliant colored lights. Sometimes, I was falling, sometimes falling and tumbling. To be honest, the trip happened so quickly I only remember bits and pieces of it.
I stand at the outskirts of a huge metropolis. It is Suffragette City. The city is named after a song by David Bowie. I listened to the song many times before I came to try to get some insight into what this city is about. I thought it might be linked to freedom because the women’s rights movement of the early 1900s was called the women’s suffrage movement. The lyrics really left me no clue as to the meaning of the song.
Suffragette City is a sprawling mass of humanity, or shall I say post-humanity, since most of its inhabitants have died on earth and come here to work things out. I’m not sure what that means but it’s what Octavia told me.
I see the metal robotic sentinels coming my way. They are red with black trim. This is my first encounter with truly advanced robotics. From what Octavia has told me, the sentinels are both highly intelligent and very deadly.
“Halt,” the head sentinel says in an electronic voice. “Please don’t move until we have the op
portunity to question you.”
There are five sentinels all together. The other sentinels have split up into pairs and flank each side of the head sentinel. As the head sentinel gets closer, I can see he has white trim running through his robotic steel armor. The other sentinels do not have white in their color schemes and they all look the same.
“What is your name?” asks the head sentinel in an electronic voice.
“Ripley Greer,” I respond.
“My sensors tell me you are actually still alive in the old world. What is your purpose of coming to Suffragette City?”
“I need to find answers to some events that have happened in my life back on earth.”
“That sounds fair enough. All of the humans here are searching for answers. How do we know you are not here to cause trouble? It is rare for still live old world humans to even know about Suffragette City let alone to seek entrance. It is even more rare for the Order of Things to Come, our parent agency, to grant a human like you admittance.”
“I am not here to cause trouble. From what I understand, there is already plenty of trouble happening in The City. I hear there is a fairly robust bounty system that is used often and that a man or woman with lethal fighting skills can become very wealthy very quickly.”
“You have done your homework, Mr. Greer. How did you learn of Suffragette City?”
“A woman named Octavia Scott told me about this place.”
“OK. In that case, we will need some form of payment.”
I pull out the CD Maxine made for me.
“I doubt your radio pirates have this yet. It contains new songs by Prince, The Black Eyed Peas, and Lady Ga-Ga.”
“Well done, Mr. Greer. Your wrist please.”
I hold out my left wrist. A bracelet is placed on my wrist. I feel the entire being of the bracelet. It is a smooth metal without a clasp. There is no way to remove this bracelet.
Salvation Road: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow Page 2