by Jason Levine
William nodded.
“So what’s your plan?”
“The General is making his move at sunset. That gives us time, but we need to move fast. First, I need to get my stuff from the junkyard. Then, I need to get to the base.” Murray pointed at the fourth building. “Once there, I sneak into this building and rescue Thomas. Once I have Thomas back, we hope that whatever is happening to the General breaks them of his control or, failing that, that we can figure out another way to get them freed.”
“And if that doesn’t work? Why did you write Plan B there?”
“It’s good to have a backup plan. And I think I’ve got something in mind. I’m going to need some more help, though.”
Chapter Twenty Three: Junkyard Supply Run
The lime green van approached the junkyard. William explained that Ruth had retrieved it after leaving Murray and Eddie. She had driven it when she stopped by to be healed by Heidi. When Ruth left to try to take on the General alone, she had left the vehicle behind. Murray guessed that even Ruth could tell that the General’s men would have seen the old lime green van from a mile away.
They pulled up to the gate of the junkyard. Unlike the last time Murray was here, there was no miraculous fixing of the damage caused by the previous night. The gates were smashed in and scorch marks were visible along the walls. The “Sam Treis’ Junk Sculptures” sign lay on the ground blasted in two.
“Wow, there really was a battle here,” William commented as he stopped the car across the street and half a block away from the junkyard.
“Yeah. Ruth and some of the General’s men stormed the place last night. Sean and Eddie held off as long as they could but were overwhelmed.”
“I told Sean he needed more defensive capabilities. Then again, I was always the cautious one.”
Murray looked at the sign again.
“This might not be the right time, but I’ve always been curious and never got the chance to ask. If it’s Sean’s junkyard, why does the sign say ‘Sam Treis?’”
“Two reasons. First of all, a simple matter of hiding. If someone was looking for him, they’d look for Sean, not Sam.”
“And second?”
“When our abilities first manifested, Sean insisted that we use them to help mankind. I agreed, but his idea of ‘helping mankind’ was to become vigilantes. He named me Plasma and he called himself Sentry. Sam Treis is a callback to that identity. Sam Treis. Sentry’s.”
Murray shook his head. “One day, after this General business is settled, you’re going to have to tell me that story.”
William smiled, “That’s a promise.”
“For now, though, I need to go in to get my gear and whatever else I can find to help. If I’m not out in two hours, leave without me. And if you see any men in military uniforms approach the junkyard…”
“Then, I’ll get out of here quickly.”
“Right. If that happens, pack what you can and take Heidi out of the city.”
“Will do. Hopefully, it won’t come to that. Good luck.”
Murray exited the van and headed up to the gate. Before leaving the apartment, he had changed into his newly repaired work suit. Now, he strapped on his backpack and activated his mask, and pulled on his goggles and cap. Murray made sure his air tank was full and then walked quietly into the junkyard. As he walked through the smashed gate, he looked around for movement. He was determined not to be taken by surprise. The General might have stationed men here to ambush him. Alternatively, Sean might have fallen completely under the General’s sway. If so, he could turn his robots against Murray or anyone else not working for the General.
Slowly, Murray made his way through the piles of electronic waste that Sean had used as raw materials in his amazing creations. At every juncture, Murray peaked around the corner, sure that some resistance would show itself. Down every corridor, he looked to the tops of the piles as well as along the ground, positive that he would be facing a fight at any moment.
Murray’s heart pounded with the anticipation, but the junkyard remained deadly quiet. He passed a gathering of what first looked like electronic trash that had been strewn in the path instead of stacked into neat piles. Murray quickly realized that these were the remnants of Sean’s robots. Scorch marks charred the metallic remains. None of the former helpers moved. Not even a single spark issued from their exposed wires.
Murray remembered the first time he had walked these passages. He had felt like the junk piles themselves were watching him. In hindsight, these robots were the ones watching him, making sure he posed no threat to Sean. They gave up their lives–such as they were–to protect their creator but it wasn’t enough. Murray knew that these weren’t thinking beings. They were little more than mindless servants, but still he felt like their sacrifice needed to be avenged. He swore under his breath that he’d stop the General somehow.
Murray approached the clearing and cautiously looked around. The shack was half-sunken into the earth on one side. Scorch marks dotted the exterior and the roof was torn apart. Murray climbed up a wall and glanced inside. More burns lined the interior of the shack. Murray couldn’t tell if this was from Ruth or from weaponry that the General’s soldiers possessed. Either way, it was a miracle that Sean and Eddie had made it out alive.
Murray looked around the inside of the shed for any sign of anything useful. Unfortunately, the shed was empty except for the roller coaster seat which had been severed in two by a particularly strong blast. Murray could have sworn that he still smelled the scent of burning oxygen from Ruth’s blast. Walking out of the shack, Murray walked from junk pile to junk pile, but couldn’t find any sign of his gear.
Murray was about to give up when he heard a sound. A refrigerator had fallen from the top of a junk heap and was falling fast towards him. Without even thinking, Murray ghosted and the fridge slammed to the ground right through him. Murray activated his air supply and boosters, floating above the now-broken refrigerator. He looked up at the junk file and spotted movement. Murray increased his speed and floated to the top of the pile.
A lone robot cowered at the top of the heap. It was smaller that Sean’s usual helpers, only two and a half feet tall at most. One of its legs was a few inches shorter than the others, making it limp as it backed itself down the junk pile away from Murray. It twisted its head towards Murray and let out a series of beeps and whistles.
“Either you want me to follow you,” Murray said. “Or you’re warning me to stay away,”
Murray floated down towards the robot and de-ghosted when he reached the ground. The little robot backed up to the base of a junk pile. If Murray didn’t know any better, he would have sworn it was shivering with fear.
“Did you push that fridge on top of me on purpose?”
The robot beeped and whistled.
“Look. I don’t understand robot language. I’m guessing you understand English, though. So how about this. One beep means yes. Two beeps means no.”
Beep.
“Good. Now, did you push that fridge on top of me?”
Beep.
“Why?”
The robot emitted a series of beeps and whistles.
“Sorry. My fault. We’ll stick to yes or no questions. Did you mean to hurt me?”
Beep beep.
“That’s a no, then. Did you think I was someone else? One of the General’s men, maybe?”
Beep.
“Were you trying to defend the junkyard?”
The robot beeped and flexed its arms. Murray guessed it was an imitation of a “show your muscles” display, but on the little robot it was more humorous than awe inspiring.
“Do you know who I am now?”
Beep.
“And you know where my gear is hidden?”
Beep.
“Can you show me?”
The robot beeped once more and scuttled off. Murray followed him to one of the junk piles. It was one of the first piles that Murray had checked.
“I alread
y searched this pile. Where is it?”
The robot beeped and whistled.
“I’m sorry little guy,” Murray said, kicking some dirt in frustration. “I just don’t understand robot.”
The little robot cocked its head and examined the line Murray’s kick had made in the dirt. It began excitedly beeping and whistling and scurried off.
“Great. Now the robot’s gone and I need to figure out where my gear is.”
He heard footsteps and prepared to ghost, but relaxed when he saw the little robot coming back. It had a section of pipe in its hand.
“What’s that for?” Murray asked.
The robot whistled and pushed the pipe into the dirt. It moved it around, lifted it out, put it back in, and moved it more. Soon it had drawn a large, distorted triangle in the dirt.
“You want to play a guessing game?” Murray looked at the drawing. He couldn’t figure out what the robot could mean by its drawing.
The robot beeped a few times. It pointed at the drawing and then at the junk pile. Murray looked up at it. From the right angle, it did look like a distorted triangle.
“That’s the junk pile?”
The robot beeped once. It drew a rectangle inside the junk pile.
“That’s my gear, isn’t it? My gear is somewhere inside the junk pile?”
Beep.
The robot drew an arrow from the outside of the distorted triangle to the inside of the rectangle. Murray thought he might be catching on.
“Wait. Is this some sort of test? I have to ghost into the junk pile to get my gear?”
The robot beeped once and managed to jump up and down on its small legs.
Murray started his air supply and ghosted. He turned his thrusters on low and he slowly glided towards the junk pile. As he entered the pile, he slowed down. For a second, all he saw was the darkness he usually experienced when passing through solid objects. Then, there was light. Murray de-ghosted. He was standing inside a very small storage locker of some kind. His duffel bag was inside. Murray picked up his duffel bag and held it close to him as he ghosted again. He flew back out of the junk pile, landing next to the robot which attempted to jump several more times while whistling and beeping.
“Thanks,” Murray said to the robot as he de-ghosted, refilled his air tank, and retracted his mask.
He set the bag down on the ground, opened it up, and rifled through the contents. There were spare staves, canisters of his sedative drug, the general dampener that he and Ruth used to suppress Eddie’s powers, and various other tools of his trade.
“This will definitely help, but I need something. Something more…”
Murray looked around.
“Luckily, I’m in the mother-lode of spare parts.”
The robot skittered up to him beeping quizzically.
“Hey, you know where things are in here, right?”
The robot beeped once.
“Can you gather some supplies for me?”
Beep.
Murray thought for a second and started rattling off a list of supplies. The robot skittered off and returned with everything from his list. Murray stuffed the robot’s finds into his duffel bag. It was a tight fit, but Murray managed to close it up most of the way.
“Thanks for everything,” Murray said to the robot.
The robot beeped and whistled in response.
“Well, I’ll see you around.”
Murray started towards the gate but the robot followed him beeping and whistling. Murray couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or if the robot actually sounded sad.
“What’s wrong?”
The robot beeped and whistled.
“You need to stay here. This is where you belong.”
Beep beep.
“Look, I’m very grateful. You helped me find what I needed, but you can’t come with me.”
The little robot scuttled over to a pile of its fallen comrades and picked up a robot head. A crack ran through the head and a lens eye dangled from half-severed wires. The robot brought it back to Murray beeping twice.
“Wait. Are there any more of you guys here?”
The robot beeped twice.
“You’re the last one left?”
Beep.
“Still, it’ll be safer for you here.”
Beep beep.
“No? Hold on a second. Are you… afraid?”
Beep.
The robot looked up at Murray. This was crazy. Robots couldn’t feel fear. Then again, Murray told himself, people normally couldn’t pass through walls or blast energy bolts from their hands. His definition of what was crazy and what was “normal” had been constantly expanding.
“Fine. You can come with me out of the junkyard. You’re going to stay with a friend of mine, though. It’ll be safer for you that way.”
The robot beeped and jumped a few inches off the ground. It scuttled around Murray whistling and waving its arms.
“Okay, okay. Settle down, you.” Murray walked down the winding paths towards the exit. “Hmmm… I need to call you something. How about Robbie?”
The robot beeped twice.
“You’re right. Robbie the Robot is too easy. Reginald?”
Beep beep.
“How about Ronald?”
The robot looked at Murray for a second and then beeped once.
“Ronald it is.”
Murray and Ronald reached the front gate without any incident. Murray looked up and down the block. The only vehicle on the street was the lime green van.
“Come on,” Murray told Ronald. “Quickly.”
Ronald scurried after Murray, the tips of its metal legs clacking against the pavement. As Murray approached the car, William lowered his window.
“One of Sean’s robots?”
“Yes. Ronald. He’s the last of the robots. The rest were destroyed by the General’s men. I couldn’t leave him alone by himself.”
“Ronald?”
Murray opened the van’s back door and motioned for Ronald to enter. Ronald tentatively climbed into the back and wedged himself between the two rear seats. Murray stowed his gear and closed the door. He walked to the front passenger door and opened it up.
“I sort of named him. I couldn’t keep calling him ‘hey you.’”
“You realize that’s just a robot?”
Murray climbed into the front seat, closed his door, and buckled up.
“Maybe, but he guarded my gear for me. The least I could do is make sure he stays safe.”
“Safe?”
“Who knows if the General’s men will come back to the junkyard.”
“Going with you to confront the General won’t exactly be safe either.”
“No, it won’t. Speaking of which, I have a favor to ask...”
Chapter Twenty Four: Emerging Ally
Back in William’s apartment, William and Murray sat on the living room couch. A coffee table in front of them was cluttered with various components from Murray’s duffel bag and his work suit as well as his junkyard acquisitions. Murray was busy soldering some electronic components together with Ronald’s help. Meanwhile, William lined up cartridges of Murray’s knock-out cocktail. Heidi looked on from a chair, feeling stronger, but still resting up from taking on Murray’s injuries.
“So this really makes people pass out?” Heidi asked, examining one of the cartridges.
“Yes. In high enough doses, right away. In lower doses, they will tell you all of their secrets before passing out. Either way, they wake up with no memory of what happened or what they might have said.”
“I can see how that might come in handy at times,” she replied.
“Right now, my problem is that my staff has a one cartridge limit. I use it once and I need to reload. Not horrible if you’re breaking into a place that has limited guards, but if you’re heading into, say a not-so-abandoned military base that has a ton of armed guards…”
“You don’t want to have to reload while confronting multiple guards,” Wil
liam finished.
“Exactly. I was hoping to come up with some sort of automatic refill system for the cartridges, but that will take too much time. So, instead, I’ve been tinkering with the dosage and the injection mechanism on my staves. They should now be able to each knock out four guards.”
“That’s quite impressive,” Heidi said.
“I’ve also installed what I’m calling the ‘Brawn button.’”
“Brawn button?” William asked.
“Brawn is another person with special abilities under the General’s control. He’s a big guy who is extremely strong and seems to have a resistance to injury. If I press this button on my staff, it will dump the entire contents into the individual. Hopefully, this will help knock him out if need be.”
Murray turned back to Ronald.
“Okay, now connect this to here… No, not there. Right. You’ve got it. If we do that, then this should fit here and… good. That should work perfectly.”
“What are you working on anyway?” Heidi asked.
“It’s a little surprise.”
Murray had Ronald solder one last piece in place and closed up his creation. It was a simple hand-held box with a push button and a power switch. “This might not look like much, but it should do the trick. I just hope it doesn’t blow some sort of fuse.”
Murray placed the box on the table next to the general dampener and motioned at the various tools on the table.
“Now I just need to figure out what to bring. I might not need lock picking tools since I can just ghost through walls. Then again, they might have Thomas in chains with a dampener nearby. Might as well bring them. These small bombs cause a loud noise but little to no damage. Usually useful in distracting guards, but in this case they are more likely to attract more guards that I’d like. I’ll bring a limited supply just in case.”
Murray picked up a few of the round pellets from the metal box they sat in and placed them in one of his pockets. He closed up the box and picked up his retractable knife.
“My trusty knife. This could come in handy. I’ll take that with me. The video camera spoofer is out, though.”