The Unraveling

by James R. Clifford

  His heart started racing and he slipped further down into the seat. The car pulled up and stopped less than twenty feet away. What if they came over to check out the car and found him?

  The car doors opened and he heard someone say, “Grab the briefcase.”

  West took a deep breath and mustered enough nerve to peek out the window. A man in a dark suit was standing next to the car smoking a cigarette. Another man got out of the back of the car. West ducked, it was Agent McCain along with Jimmy.

  His chest felt like it was going to explode. What were they doing here? It had to be a set up. West watched as McCain and Jimmy walked into the warehouse.

  West looked at his watch. Only eight minutes had passed but the situation had changed. Sam was in extreme danger. He slowly opened the door and crept up to the warehouse. He poked his head around the wall then quickly pulled back. McCain had a gun pointed at Sam and Tom, who held their hands above their heads.

  West heard a humming noise off in the distance. He turned and spotted black specs flying this way low on the horizon. The Black copters meant Homeland was coming.

  He heard Agent McCain say, “I’d prefer to shoot you but my superiors believe after a couple days of torture we can extract some valuable information.”

  “We had a deal McCain,” Sam replied. “Why are you doing this? The Dracun is as much an enemy to your survival as the LT’s are.”

  McCain laughed uncontrollably. “Today my friends are my enemies. Tomorrow my enemies are my friends. Don’t you know that your enemies are my friends are my enemies are my friends?” McCain kept repeating his insane chant over and over like some deranged madman.

  West looked around and realized he was trapped. He couldn’t get back to the car and drive off and leave Sam but he couldn’t just stand there either. He had only one choice. He surveyed the area and spotted a heavy metal pipe laying on the ground. He ran over and picked it up and went back to the opening in the warehouse. The buzz of the approaching helicopters was getting louder. He peered around the corner and McCain and Jimmy were laughing with their backs turned toward him.

  They were about 12 feet away. West took a deep breath. It was now or never. He turned the corner with the pipe in his hand and took a few quiet steps. He saw Sam glance in his direction, causing him to sprint toward McCain.

  Sam screamed at the top of her lungs and the diversion distracted McCain for an additional second or two but he must have sensed West coming and began to turn. At three feet away the agent raised his gun. At two feet he aimed the pistol directly at West’s chest but before he managed to get off a shot West clubbed him across the side of his head.

  McCain fell into a heap with one leg twitching uncontrollably and a stream of drool coming out of his mouth. West stood over him and watched as Tom tackled Jimmy before he had a chance to move. The humming of black copters grew louder and West knew it was too late, they couldn’t escape the building without being seen.

  He watched as Sam ran over to Agent McCain and picked up his gun. At point blank range she shot McCain then without hesitation she walked over to Jimmy who was sprawled out on the ground.

  “Wait,” he pleaded. “West is my friend. He’ll tell you I’m okay. You don’t have to do this.”

  West flinched as the gunshot echoed inside the building and Jimmy’s head exploded. He stared at Jimmy, fighting the hot bile rising in his throat.

  “We’ve got to go,” Tom said.

  West couldn’t move. Sam pulled on his arm.

  “C’mon. West,” she screamed. “We have about 30 seconds to get out of here before we’re all dead.”

  Self-preservation took over and he followed them as they ran toward the back of the building. The roar from the helicopters had become deafening. They raced to a door that Tom threw open. A set of metal stairs led downward into a lower subsection of the building.

  They raced down the stairs and West could hear the stampede of boots echoing on the floor above them. They sprinted down a hall lit by fluorescent lights that led to another metal door. Tom opened it and once they were through he sealed the door with a metal bolt.

  The hall led to another set of stairs down to a lower level that emptied into an old sewer treatment facility. The place reeked of decay and waste.

  He heard an explosion above them. The soldiers had blown through the sealed door. Shouting followed by a spray of bullets ricocheted off the metal equipment. Sam pushed West behind a large generator. Tom bent down and opened a circular hatch that led down into darkness.

  Sam jumped down and pulled West in behind her. His hands grabbed the rung of a metal ladder and he started climbing down. Tom slammed the hatch down and a bright light replaced the darkness. The walls were loaded with explosives.

  “Get the hell out of here,” he heard Tom yell. “We have two minutes before this whole thing blows to Kingdom Come.”

  West climbed down as fast as he could. He lost control and fell the last five feet, landing onto the hard concrete. Tom fell on top of him, knocking the wind out of West. Sam jerked both of them up and they sprinted down the sewage tunnel.

  They turned a corner and Sam picked up a metal grate. West didn’t need any more instructions and he jumped down into the opening falling into a pile of wet muck. Seconds later Sam and Tom jumped down next to him followed by an ear piercing explosion.

  The ground and walls shook like a massive earthquake had just hit and for a second West thought the whole place was going to collapse on top of them. A bright white light followed by a reddish flash blinded him as the tunnel above the grate filled with a stream of fire and searing heat.

  Sam screamed in his ear but he couldn’t hear a thing from the explosion. She grabbed his arms, pulled him up and they stumbled down the tunnel.

  They passed by a series of intersections. West noticed they were following glow-in-the-dark arrows painted on the walls which meant they were following a pre-designed escape route.

  After ten more minutes they came to the end of the tunnel and one by one they climbed up a ladder. At the top Tom threw open a manhole and they emerged out into an alley.

  A car sped toward them and the back doors were flung open. Still in function mode West hopped into the back seat as the driver gunned the car out of the alley into the city street.

  “I wouldn’t mind the rat race–if the rats would lose once in a while.“

  – Tom Wilson

  Chapter 22

  The nameless driver drove them slowly though the burned out industrial city directly across the river from Manhattan. After making a few turns the car pulled into a side street. Tom leaned forward against the driver’s seat and whispered something to him. The driver nodded and Tom opened the door and they all got out.

  West didn’t say a thing. He was still shell shocked by what had just happened and he followed Tom and Sam in silence. They walked about a dozen blocks, cutting though alleys until they ducked between two burned out buildings. West followed them up a fire escape to the fourth floor where they climbed through an open window into an apartment. A couple was sitting on the couch smoking, drinking beer and listening to music.

  They didn’t so much as bat an eye as three people who must’ve looked like they had just been in a war climbed into their apartment from the fire escape.

  The man on the couch smiled then stood up. He was probably in his 50s but looked like he had lived a hard life. He had a scruffy beard and was dressed in faded blue jeans and an old button down shirt.

  “Ah, brother Tom,” he gestured with his hands then bowed dramatically. “I heard you might be in the neighborhood. We’re certainly glad you were able to join us. After all we’re a lot more fun to hang out with than those nasty Dracuns or LT people.”

  He turned to Sam. “And what a pleasant surprise, my favorite femme fatale. I was not aware you would be joining us as well and you even brought a new friend.”

  “It was a last minute decision,” Sam responded.

  Tom pointed at the man’s b
eer. “You got some more of those?”

  “What is mine is yours. Help yourself. They’re in the kitchen fridge.”

  The man turned his attention back to West and stuck out his hand. “I’m Harry, Tom’s brother. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  He shook his hand and replied back, “West Collins.”

  “Well, West I can tell you the first mistake you’ve made is to associate with these two outlaws.”

  West laughed because it was probably the most truthful thing anyone had said to him in the last couple of days.

  “And why do you say that?” he asked.

  Harry looked at him with a serious expression. “Because they’ll eventually get you killed. You understand that, don’t you?”

  Tom walked out of the kitchen with three beers. He handed one to Sam and West. West drank two-thirds of the beer in a single gulp.

  Harry gestured toward the couch. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

  They sat down on the couch. “So Assassin Sam, tell me, whose side you working for today?”

  “I heard she works for the Dracun, the LT’s, and DC. A true anarchist,” the woman sitting on the couch exclaimed.

  “I don’t know what you two are talking about.” Sam replied back.

  Harry smiled. “I’m sure you don’t. Well, let me ask you this then, are all the stories of your exploits true or are they like everything else in the world today?”

  “And what do you mean by everything else in the world today?” Sam retorted.

  “You know, a tiny shred of the truth wrapped around layers and layers of bullshit,” Harry answered.

  “All the stories are lies,” Sam replied.

  Harry’s woman friend laughed. “Don’t believe her, Harry. I’ve heard she could kill you with a paperclip.”

  Harry raised his beer toward Sam. “Well, I better not do anything to piss her off then.”

  “We’re going to need to crash here tonight,” Tom said.

  The old David Bowie song Pressure blared though the speakers.

  “Like the sound system?” Harry asked West.

  “I guess.”

  “It doesn’t look like it but it is a state-of-the-art noise cancellation device. Anyone trying to listen in on our conversations right now would hear the music but whatever we are saying is scrubbed, and preprogrammed conversations are piped in to hide our true conversation. Ingenious isn’t it?”

  “Very impressive,”

  “Damn straight. And it is a good thing because I can guarantee you after your little escapade earlier today this area is swarming with Homeland Agents and drones. Hell, they probably even have some serious shit Dracun fuckers out here by now.”

  “I don’t know what it is but for some reason they don’t like it when a bunch of their agents are blown to smithereens,” the girl next to Harry chimed in again.

  All three of them stared at the woman.

  “Where are my manners?” Harry said. “This is my friend Brenda.”

  West turned toward Sam and asked, “You trust these people?”

  “Relax my boy,” Harry replied. “Tom is my brother after all. You don’t think I would turn my own flesh and blood in now do you?”

  “They’re okay,” Sam added. “You just have to ignore their bullshit.”

  “I appreciate your confidence in us, Sam,” Harry added “But you’ve got it backwards, West. The people you shouldn’t trust are them.”

  “They should be grateful we don’t sell you out to the Dracun,” Brenda replied.

  “No one ever said we weren’t grateful and by the way we’ve saved your asses more times than you’ll even know,” Tom replied angrily. “And despite your claim of neutrality, you hate the Dracun just as much as we do.”

  “Yes that is true,” Harry said. “We do hate the Dracun but for much different reasons.”

  “And what are your reasons?” West asked.

  “Well, first of all you have to understand why most of the people you currently associate with hate the Dracun. I mean they’re so 1990’s with their misguided notion of God Bless America and the delusion that this country can return to the principles of the glory days or the Founding Fathers. You know freedom, baseball and apple pie, all that crap. Your misguided friends seem to think if only that could happen, then everything would be honky-dory.”

  “So you’d rather live as a slave under DC?” Tom interrupted.

  Harry raised his hands in a mock gesture. “Of course not. Personally, I find y’all much more tolerable and certainly a whole lot more fun than the DC or those dreaded Dracuns. But it is you, the LT’s, who I think are flawed, because the DC’ers are just acting upon the most fundamental aspect of human nature.”

  “Which is?” West asked.

  “To control and dominate other humans. It is a story as old as mankind. It’s actually pretty simple math. Ninety-one percent of the world’s population is made up of beta rats and about six percent are the Alpha Rats. The Alpha’s are the king rats who only care about establishing territory for power and control. They rule over the Betas. The Beta’s are the followers, the sheeple who are content to live off the scraps of the Alphas. Think of the Alphas as the perfect sociopath. They want control, no matter the cost or the destruction they might cause.”

  “So are you an Alpha or a Beta?” West asked.

  “Neither. We are the least populous of the rats. We are Gammas, which represents two percent of the population.”

  “Your math is a little off. That only comes to 99 percent.” West said.

  “No. The remaining one percent are the Deltas. They alternate states between all three of the rat species. These people are the most dangerous, most unpredictable of all. We call them the crazies.”

  “So what are the character traits of the Gammas?” West asked.

  “Gammas are not followers but they also do not wish to rule and control the Betas. They are the true visionaries and usually the architects of successful civilizations. The Gammas are responsible for most of the world’s achievements.”

  “And let me guess,” Sam replied. “You are a Gamma.”

  “Correct. I am a Gamma just as much as you and West are Deltas and Tom is a Beta.”

  Sam laughed. “Glad to know you think so highly of yourself.”

  “I’m still a little confused,” West broke in, wondering if he should be insulted by being referred to as a Delta. “Whose side exactly are you on?”

  “We’re not on anyone’s side. To be honest with you we don’t believe in anything that is part of the current human organizational structure. The whole world is in an unraveling mode and we know for a fact that ultimately it doesn’t matter if the LT’s or DC or the Dracun prevail. The fate of mankind has already been decided.”

  “Really and what fate is that?” West asked.

  “I can show you if you want?”

  “How?”

  “Just hold out your hand and swallow the truth pill.”

  West looked over to Sam. “Who the hell are these people?”

  “They’re Multiverse Surfers.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “They believe they can travel through parallel universes and different dimensions using a powerful neuron-drug,” Tom answered.

  “Brother, you are wrong,” Harry replied. “We don’t believe. We know for a fact and I have offered you many times the opportunity to join us but you have refused.”

  “That’s because the drug you consume like candy fries your brain. And as much as you have taken over the years I’m surprised you even still have any brain cells left,” Tom rebutted.

  Harry looked over to West. “It is the price one must pay for ultimate freedom and the truth. If you want the answers, West you have to take this and find out for yourself.”

  Harry smiled, reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a large purple pill and held it up to West.

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

  Harry shrugged and put the pill back i
nto his pocket. “I can tell you this, there is an entity much more powerful than even the Dracun and they are the ones that control all things.”

  Tom set his beer down. “You’ll like this one West. They believe in a multi-dimensional alien they call Ulysses.”

  “We don’t believe,” Brenda said. “We know. If you had any balls you could find out for yourself.”

  “Why can’t you just show us the proof?” West asked.

  “It doesn’t work like that. How are you alive, West?”

  “I don’t know, because I’m breathing. I’m here. I’m conscious. You’re talking with me, right?”

  “Prove it.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. How can I prove it? It is what it is.”

  “Exactly and you just answered your own question. My point is there are billions of assumptions we, as humans, have been preprogrammed toward and this is just one more. You’d have to go into the Multiverse to understand the Multiverse. It operates in a different frequency than the one we are currently in and only in that frequency can you understand a Ulysses.”

  “So you’ve seen one of these Ulysses?”

  “Yes. We have. And you have to.”

  West laughed. “I have, have I? Well refresh my memory so I’ll know the next time I see one.”

  “Surprisingly enough they look just like us. Or maybe that is just how they want us to view them.”

  Sam stood. “That is what happens when you start destroying your brain. You go bat shit crazy. I think I’ve heard enough for tonight. I’m going to go to bed.”

  West watched as she walked back through the kitchen toward a bedroom. After he finished his beer a weariness descended upon West. “I think I’ll do the same.”

  “Feel free to grab any bed,” Harry called out.

  He walked down the hall, leaving the group to their beer and music.

  “West,” he heard Sam call his name. He cracked open the door and saw Sam laying underneath the covers of the bed. She motioned for him to come over to the bed.

  He walked over and sat down on the edge. He pulled off his shoes and turned back toward Sam. She pulled back the bed cover revealing her lithe naked body.