“What is this place called, anyway?” I asked.
“Well, that all depends on who you ask. Some would say home, some would say work, and, if you were to ask my opinion, I would say it’s called the seventh circle of Hell. But, technically, they refer to it as The Epicenter.”
“So, it’s basically headquarters.”
“Yeah, but for what, I don’t even know.”
“What’s going on tomorrow?”
“Your orientation, or so they call it.”
“Wonderful.”
“Yeah. You’ll see why I call this place Hell tomorrow.” He hesitated, and for the first time since I met him, I swore I could see an actual human in those stone cold brown eyes of his. “If I were you, I would get myself settled in and try to fall asleep. After tomorrow, the very act of sleeping will be more of a luxury for you than a necessity.” I gave Blake a look of confusion, causing a smile to appear on his surprisingly vulnerable face. “Goodnight, kid,” he sighed.
“Goodnight.”
Blake’s room was only a couple of doors down from mine. I watched him until he disappeared inside, then turned and walked into my room for the first time. When I entered the room, I scanned the wall next to the door until I found the button that closed it. As soon as my fingers hit the button, the door slid shut, leaving me alone in my new home. Like the rest of The Epicenter thus far, there was nothing too spectacular about my living quarters. The walls were painted a nondescript blasé neutral color; the carpet was an even more quintessential neutral Berber. In the far corner stood a glorified cot for a bed with a dresser, closet, nightstand, lamp, small television and bathroom completing the ensemble. “Well, that’s a plus,” I muttered to myself, eyeing the bathroom.
Hanging on the wall was some sort of speaker system which only added to the whole scholarly feel of the place. Being underground, there were no windows in the room, a fact which made it that much more dreary and undesirable.
A sense of loneliness overtook me as I stood in the silence, gazing upon my basically bare cube. I tried to shake it off by opening my backpack. Placing its contents upon the bed, I stared at them blankly. There were empty hangers in my closet, allowing me to hang up the few items of clothing I was able to bring with me, and I figured I‘d better get started making this room my “home”.
Walking over to the dresser, I opened the drawer, listening to it creak in protest as it slid open. To my pleasant surprise, it contained clothing. I pulled out a pair of pajama pants. They were larger than what I would have worn and in just as neutral a color as the walls of the room. Underneath the pajama pants was a tank top just as plain as the pants, but adequate nonetheless. With clothes in hand, I headed to the bathroom. It too was just as dreary. Was there a crime against color in this place? Apparently, aesthetics weren’t important in the superhuman industry. The bathroom counter was large and held a numerous supply of toiletries. Their presence served as a hint to me that there may possibly be another feminine presence in the sea of testosterone I found myself swimming in.
Dying to return to a sense of normalcy, I spotted a toothbrush amongst the bathroom supplies, wet the bristles, and brushed my teeth while sitting on the edge of the bathtub. My fingers gripped the faucet, turning on the water for a shower. Warm water flowed freely, another plus. Carefully, I slipped my dress off and removed the heels from my throbbing feet. As I stepped into the shower, I closed my eyes, letting the warmth envelope me like a security blanket. It was weird being able to take a shower and actually enjoy the process. That fact alone inched this place just slightly above my former apartment.
As I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, my gaze drifted to the mirror situated above the sink. It was the first time I’d seen myself since breaking Chase’s heart, and the reflection in the mirror was nearly unrecognizable. Before me stood a clearly broken woman; a woman who had nothing left to lose; a woman with no hope of being completely pieced together again. Quickly, I got dressed, leaving the stranger in the bathroom mirror to her misery.
I sat on the edge of the bed, knowing that getting to sleep was going to be none too easy. This became especially true after feeling the stiff, hard as a rock mattress beneath my body. Theorizing that it must have been filled with gravel, I figured getting comfortable would be a challenge to say the least. On top of that, the sheets were thin and the pillow was barely big enough to hold my head. They spared no expense here. Hopefully, Blake had been right about sleep not being a necessity as, if I really did need it, I would be out of luck because I clearly wouldn’t be getting it on this thing.
My photographs were still sitting on the bed where I’d removed them from the backpack. Reaching for them, I placed them on my lap. Gently, my fingers glided through each picture, causing memories to flood through my brain. There were memories of holidays and vacations spent together filled with laughter and celebration. Life had been near perfection. My parents, although not always perfect themselves, had done the best they could with raising two demanding children. They didn’t deserve to have it all come to an end the way it did. What they deserved was a chance to be able to retire, to spend their elderly years together traveling and reveling in the joys of grandchildren while swinging on porch swings. Of all the decisions I had made in my life, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I had made the right one this time. It was the most unselfish yet painful decision I’d ever made.
The photographs became more current the closer to the end of the stack I came. Loose photographs fell onto my bed. Photographs of Chase; photographs of me. My face had been blissful, the polar opposite of the girl back in the mirror. Chase and I had a truly wonderful relationship. I turned to the few photos taken during our camping trip. A little over a year ago, Chase, Lucy, her boyfriend, Luke, Chase’s best friend, Trey, and I had all gone camping in upstate New York. It had been one of the best weekends of my life and the first time Chase and I had made love. That night was the first time I’d allowed myself to tell a man that I loved him. It’d been a big step for my commitment-phobic self, and I knew that it had meant the world to Chase, too. My eyes began to water as I leaned over to put the pictures in the nightstand drawer. Drying my eyes, I forced myself off the bed to shut the lights off, stumbling in the dark on the way back.
With Chase on my mind, sleep wouldn’t be an option. All the wonderful memories we’d shared were now nothing but memories. Now, there was only devastation left in the wake of our once picture perfect relationship. I wondered what he was doing right now. Where he was, what he was thinking. Did he hate me for what had transpired tonight? He’d never know the truth, and I’d never be able to explain it to him. The tears once again traveled down my cheek, sluggishly dripping onto my pillow. It was all I could take. I let all of the pain that had accumulated over the last few days loose. Silent tears turned into an outright sob. “I’m so sorry, Chase,” I cried, muffling my voice in my pillow.
Unexpectedly, I fell asleep during my crying fit fairly quickly. But, in my restless slumber, my conscious thoughts invaded my dreams, and all I saw were images of Chase’s devastated face.
****
“What the hell happened?” Trey’s message reverberated on Chase Matthews’ cell phone. “Give me a call when you can, I’m worried about you, bro.”
Chase set his cell phone down next to his fifth bottle of beer. He hadn’t known what else to do, so he’d called his best friend, Trey, leaving a message when he hadn’t picked up. Now, he didn’t feel like talking to anyone. What was he going to tell them when he didn’t entirely understand what had happened tonight himself? Everything had gone so perfectly. She was the one he’d waited for his whole life. Life with her had been surreal.
He pulled out the ring that was burning a hole in his back pocket. It was such a minuscule piece of metal and stone for such a large sum of money. Months had been spent picking it out, making payments on it. Months had been spent planning exactly when, where and how he would present it to her along with his whole
heart and soul. All of this tedious planning was spent just to have her run out on him with little explanation. To leave him there with everyone’s eyes gazing upon him in pity. Why did she do this to him? He thought he knew everything about her, but now it appeared as though she was nothing more than an enigma to him, a puzzle that couldn’t be solved.
He paid his tab and stepped out into the night air, noticing the stars as he walked toward his apartment. The Big Dipper was prominently displayed in the heavens before him causing him to stop in the street. From its position in the sky, he traced out the ladle until he reached the handle where he then followed its path, stopping at the last star. It was his and Celaine’s star. They’d claimed it one night while on the roof of her apartment. It was their reassurance that whenever one of them was lonely for the other, all they had to do was look up at that star and know that the other was somewhere under the same sky. The star had been christened, “Hope”, a metaphor not only for their relationship but for the future of society as a whole. Now, even after their relationship’s devastating collapse, he couldn’t help but wonder whether Celaine was staring at that same star at that same moment, too.
As he ascended the stairs of his apartment building, he saw Trey sitting, propped against the door to his unit.
“About time you showed up,” Trey said, clearly agitated.
“I’m sorry, man. I should have answered my cell phone. I just needed a few minutes to myself.”
“Do you want to tell me exactly what happened tonight, and why you were blubbering like a crazy man on the message you left me?”
“It’s over.”
“You’re making absolutely no sense tonight. How much have you had to drink?”
“Enough to dull the pain, man.”
“Would you stop being such a drama queen and explain to me what pain you need to dull so badly. You have a great life. I’ve never seen you sulk like this. It’s kind of pathetic, really.”
Trey stood up, allowing Chase to open the door of his apartment. Once open, Chase threw his keys aside on the bookshelf just inside the doorway. “Well that’s just it, buddy. I had a great life,” he muttered.
“That’s right! You were going to propose to Celaine tonight. What? Did she say no? If that’s the case, I’m sure she’ll come around eventually. You know I love Celaine, but that girl has always had commitment issues.”
“That’s just it. She didn’t just say ‘no’, she said, ‘hell, no’, and bolted out of the restaurant. She’s gone.” He took the note that had been left for him out of his pocket and tossed it to Trey.
“What? She just left?” Trey asked while unfolding the note.
“Yeah. She got some new job and left town tonight.”
“You don’t find that just a little odd?”
“Of course, I do. But what am I going to do about it? Track her down? Follow her to god knows where?”
“How about calling her?”
“I’ve tried. Her cell phone has been disconnected.”
“Wow. That was fast.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So, do you think she had…you know…been planning this for a while?”
“Of course, I do. It was so perfectly orchestrated that there was no way she just decided to leave on the fly.”
“Maybe, she’ll realize that the grass isn’t greener and come back.”
“I don’t think so. I think she’s gone for good. Tonight…I’m almost positive…was my last time ever seeing her. She’s made up her mind, and once Celaine has her mind made up there’s no going back.”
“You don’t think there’s someone else, do you?”
“No.” He shook his head definitively. “Celaine is the most honorable woman I’ve ever met. If there was someone else, she would have been honest with me. What took her away from here…from me…had to be greater than anything we could possibly think of.”
Chapter Thirteen
The Orientation
Beep…Beep…Beep. It felt like I had only been asleep for ten minutes when the tone went off. Startled, I shot up out of bed, groggily looking around. Was it some sort of alarm? Should I be concerned? I stumbled to the door in a daze, fumbling around its surface in search of a knob before I remembered that there was a button for that. My hand felt around the rough exterior of the wall until I felt the smooth circular button. The door obediently slid open, allowing me to wander into the hallway, stopping when I reached Blake’s door.
Noticing that the door was steel, I decided there was no way I was going to knock on it and searched for an alternative way of alerting him. My eyes scanned the door; there was a plate that was similar to mine but I doubted that it would open for my fingerprint. I sighed. It was entirely too early for this nonsense. I leaned on his door, allowing it to support the weight of my body. There was no smoke in the hallway, which I took to be a good sign that the alarm wasn‘t signaling some kind of an emergency.
Then, in an instant, the door I’d been leaning on disappeared. With a crash, my body fell forward as I lost my balance. A deafening squeal escaped my mouth the moment my elbow violently struck the floor. “Ouch!” I exclaimed.
“Funny,” Blake’s voice bellowed above me. “I’ve always dreamt of women falling at my feet, but somehow this just isn’t as hot as I thought it would be.”
“Have I told you how charming you are?” Embarrassed, I reached my hand up toward Blake. He grabbed it, helping me to my feet all while never losing the amused smirk painted on his face. “Let me guess. This is their sadistic way of waking us up to greet the day each morning?”
Blake laughed. “You catch on quick.”
“This is an everyday thing?”
“Correct again.”
“Swell.”
“Isn’t it, though? It’s our own little slice of heaven. If I were you, I would get ready. You have about five minutes to report.”
“Report? What is this, the military?”
“Worse.”
“So, what does one wear to orientation?”
“Well, for me, what I have on. For you, whatever they give you when you report.”
From what Blake had on, it was obvious he was going to be working out or doing some sort of physical labor and, from the looks of his physique, it must be something he did a lot. Before now, I hadn’t noticed how absolutely impressive his biceps were. They were…unnatural. I imagined him as being able to pick up a car and hurl it through a brick wall. Noticing my obvious admiration, he began to flex. “Yep, these bad boys always get the ladies’ attention,” he smirked. A wave of heat overcame my face. “On second thought, follow me,” he said, making his way down the hall. “It’s not like you need to make yourself presentable for what you’re going to be going through today.”
Confused even more than I already was, I followed him down the hall. It had nearly pained him to say that last statement. I wondered what he meant by it and exactly what I had gotten myself into.
“Oh, by the way,” he called out. “The next time you want to come into my room, just put your thumb to the finger plate. Since you’re in the system, it will announce your presence and the door will open to the inside of each of our cells. Unless, of course, you like fainting in my presence.”
“You really could have told me that last night.”
“I suspected you’d figure it out for yourself.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Apparently, there isn’t much I can figure out on my own.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
We reached a set of double doors; steel, just like the rest of the building. He walked over to a pad on the wall to the right of the door and began inputting a code of some sort into it.
“You’ll be assigned various codes for all of the entrances and exits in and out of this place that you will be expected to memorize.”
“Wow, this place is secured tighter than Fort Knox,” I marveled.
“This place houses value greater than that of Fort Knox.”
“W
hy? Is there gold, diamonds, artifacts…scandalous government secrets?”
“No. It houses us.”
I followed Blake through the double doors into far more inviting quarters resembling more of a five star hotel than an underground dungeon. The granite floors shone in the light coming through the windows. Windows; there were windows! This place may be more tolerable than I thought. Before us appeared a sitting room complete with a television bordering on being the size of a movie screen. High on the vaulted ceilings, a chandelier was displayed over the array of leather furniture dotting the room. For an added touch, fresh flowers bloomed throughout the entirety of the room, adding a much appreciated touch of feminism to this fortress of steel.
“Don’t be fooled by the windows,” Blake commented. “They’re fake, and so is the daylight you see coming through them.”
“So, we’re still underground?”
“At least a good seventy feet.”
“Way to burst my bubble.”
He guided me down yet another corridor to the right of the sitting room. Along this corridor were even more rooms with even more steel doors.
“That door,” Blake began, “leads to the gymnasium and simulation room. In a few days, you will be spending a lot of time in that room.”
“Why in a few days?”
“That’s something they’ll explain to you,” he responded grimly.
“Wait. What’s going on?“ I stopped following him down the hallway. “You’ve been nothing but pessimistic about everything since we arrived here last night. Being here was your choice. It’s what you wanted to do, right?”
“Sometimes an obligation is masked in the guise of a choice.”
“Cryptic.”
He forced a half smile, commencing his walk down the corridor. “These smaller doors,” he gestured, “lead to the rooms of some of the other employees here. Composed mainly of scientists, doctors, chefs, counselors, scouts, computer technicians, and other choice governmental hostages, they, like us, are so dedicated to the Cause that they’ve opted to give up their identities just to come here, blend in and have their work go disappointingly unrecognized.”
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