The Argus Deceit

by Chuck Grossart

  “You feel it, too?”

  “Yes,” Connie said. “The shadow man is coming.”

  Brody put the T. rex in his pocket and closed the door behind him when he walked out into the hallway. He jumped when he saw his brother.

  “Who are you talking to, Brody?” Murf asked.

  “Nobody,” Brody said quickly. “I had my radio on.”

  “It was a girl, wasn’t it?”

  His voice is wrong. Brody didn’t have much time. “Go back in your room, Murf. Right now.”

  “She doesn’t belong here,” Murf replied, the twinkle in his eyes having faded.

  “Please, Murf, go back in your room. Everything is just like it’s supposed to be, okay? We’re going to go downstairs after we wash our hands and eat some dinner. Just like we always do.”

  The line seemed to work, and the life returned to Murphy’s eyes.

  “Now go in your room and play for a few minutes. I have to go talk to Mom about something.”

  “Is it about what happened today at school?”

  Was it the car this time, or some other crisis? “Yeah, I want to talk to her about that.” That was general enough to avoid the mistake he’d made the last time he was here.

  “Why can’t I hear?”

  “Because it doesn’t concern you, okay? That’s why.” No, too quick, that was wrong. If it was about school, then it would concern Murf. “It’s about something Mrs. Carlisle said to me. Now go on, and I’ll be back up in a second.”

  Brody was relieved when his brother walked back to his doorway. But then Murphy stopped and turned around. His eyes were flat, glassy.

  “He doesn’t belong here, either.”

  It was then that Brody heard Connie scream.

  Brody pulled his door open, and Connie came rushing out, her eyes wide with terror. Inside, a foot or so in front of the window, there was a hole in his room, black and empty. In the shape of a man.

  The shadow man was here.

  Connie grabbed Brody’s arm and pulled him down the hallway toward the stairs. Murf stood there, watching them pass, and Brody felt a pang of emotion so strong, so sad, he could hardly bear to look at his little brother. But he’s not real, he’s not real.

  At the foot of the stairs, Brody took the lead and headed for the kitchen, Connie close behind. His mother was there—he could hear her banging around in the kitchen, making dinner (like she always was). She looked up when they entered. Her eyes were happy and full of life, until she saw Connie. The transformation was nearly instantaneous, from mother to mannequin in the blink of an eye.

  “She doesn’t belong here,” his mother said.

  “Wait until you see what’s upstairs, lady,” Connie said.

  Brody opened a drawer and selected two of the longest knives he could see, handing one to Connie. He didn’t give his mother a second glance as both he and Connie sprinted for the front door.

  You shouldn’t run in the house with something sharp, Brody.

  A voice he knew so well, a woman’s voice, but not his mother. Not from this place.

  Always point it down, and walk slowly.

  The floor seemed to shift beneath his feet, and he had trouble keeping his balance.

  You don’t want to hurt yourself.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow man at the top of the stairs, coming down. Murf was there, too, staring down at Brody, and for a moment his brother was alive again, the dolls’ eyes gone. Brody almost wanted to run upstairs, shadow man be damned, and grab Murf and hold him close. Keep him safe.

  “Brody! Come on!” Connie yelled, dragging him to the door.

  The shadow man moved quickly, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor as he drew near. Brody felt the man’s gloved hand brush his shoulder just as he and Connie rushed out the front door and onto a street that didn’t belong there.

  He slammed his fist against the console. “Dammit!” They’d just missed him this time, and as before, the girl had screwed their chances. “Time!”

  The tech checked his readings. “Another seven minutes to recalibrate.” He paused, then offered an apology to his boss that he knew wasn’t necessary. “We didn’t see that transition point until it erupted, sir. Stability is dropping quickly.”

  “I know, I know,” Lead answered. “You’re doing the best you can. Just keep at it.”

  “Sir, if it gets more unstable in there, we may have to pull the diver out.”

  Lead knew that fact as well as anyone. If he pulled the diver out now, though, that might be it. Failure. Something he wasn’t ready to admit. “Is it stable enough for two divers?”

  “Sir?”

  “Is it stable enough for two!”

  “Negative, sir. We can barely keep one in there, as bad as it’s getting. The turbulence is getting stronger, and the separation protocols are failing.”

  His decision was an easy one. He might well be signing his own death sentence, but better him than anyone else. “Pull the diver. I’m suiting up.”

  Lead could feel the eyes of everyone in the room immediately shift to him.

  “Sir, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” the tech said.

  “Pull the diver, now,” Lead repeated, “and these are your orders. If I don’t finish the job before we reach the critical escape time, which is in”—he paused and looked at his timer—“three hours and forty-six minutes, you will abandon this place and get your butts home. Am I clear?”

  The tech nodded grudgingly.

  Lead turned his attention to everyone else. “All of you, is that clear? Three hours and forty-six minutes. That’s all the time we have. Anything more, and everything we’ve done here for the past seven months will be for nothing. If I’m still in there, so be it. Copy?”

  No one said anything, but Lead knew they would follow his orders. He turned his attention back to the console tech. “I’m going to need a weapon, son. Can you arrange that?”

  “Yes, sir. I can.”

  Lead didn’t want to do what he was planning, but he couldn’t see any choice. The girl was a problem.

  And she might have to be removed.

  “All right, people, let’s move! The clock is ticking!”

  God, I hope I know what I’m doing.

  Chapter 33

  BRODY26

  Garland Trail, Nebraska

  Tuesday, November 12, 1968

  Brody found himself in the darkness, swallowed up by the shadows as he and Connie ran out the front door of the house in Culver.

  The pain passed quickly as he felt his body tumble onto something hard and cold. He lay still for a moment, his mind screaming at him to get up and run—the shadow man had nearly grabbed him—but he couldn’t move. Brody opened his eyes and wondered why he was still in the darkness, then realized he had crossed over to one of the other four places. This time Garland Trail. It was wintry and nighttime. As always.

  Brody tried to push himself up and fell onto his left side. His left arm was gone. He was that Brody Quail again, a twenty-six-year-old vet with a pinned-up sleeve. He glanced behind, remembering the position of the front door in Culver, but there was nothing there, no portal for the shadow man to pass through.

  He hadn’t followed them. Or maybe he couldn’t.

  To his right, Connie was on her side, eyes closed, but she was beginning to stir. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She’d changed into her character for this world, too. Brody crawled over to her as she opened her eyes.

  “He’s not here, Connie. He didn’t follow us,” Brody said, assuring her before she was fully aware of what had happened. Connie sat up and rubbed her head. There was a nasty scrape on her temple, but it wasn’t bleeding.

  “What happened?” she asked, looking at her hands again, realizing she had changed.

  “We went through the front door and ended up here.” Brody helped her up. “It’s like I was trying to explain back there,” he said, “the whole thing feels like it’s falling apart.”

&nbs
p; “He got close, didn’t he,” Connie said.

  Brody could still feel the shadow man’s fingers sliding across his shoulder, trying to find purchase. “Really close. He almost grabbed me.”

  “Why can’t he follow us?”

  “I’m not sure, but that’s the second time it’s happened. We go through some sort of . . . door, and he can’t follow us.”

  “Not right away,” Connie added.

  “Not right away,” Brody agreed. “We have to assume he’ll be back here again, too.”

  Connie glanced around, trying to get her bearings. “Where are we?”

  At first, the street didn’t look entirely familiar, but the scene slowly came back to him. Brody pointed off to their left. “There. That’s where the warehouse is, just a block away.”

  “And the rifle, right?”

  “I hope so. Wait.” Brody looked down and searched the street, looking for the knives. “Do you remember having the knife in your hand when we went through the door?”

  Connie looked, too. “I know I had it when I was running, but—there!” About ten feet away, a blade glinted in the streetlight’s glow. “There’s one. And there’s the other one.”

  Brody patted his pants pocket. The toy dinosaur was there, too. They each grabbed a knife, and Brody tucked his under his belt. Connie slipped hers inside a zippered pocket on her calf. “If these came with us, then maybe the rifle will, too,” Brody said. As he took his hand off the knife’s wooden handle, he remembered the woman’s voice telling him not to run with something sharp, to point it down at the floor. A comforting voice, so much so that it upset him a little. He could almost see the woman’s face, it was so close, but he couldn’t seem to picture her.

  “Daydreaming?” Connie asked.

  Brody shook his head. “It’s nothing. Another memory, I guess. Can’t quite place it.”

  “Another place? Apart from the other four?”

  Brody wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t sure. “It’s nothing, really. We need to go get that rifle.”

  “Lead the way,” Connie said, with a sweep of her arm. “Age before beauty, right?”

  “You might be older than me.”

  “Maybe, but I’m definitely better-looking,” Connie said, grinning. Brody wasn’t about to disagree. She was pretty. Hopefully, when this was over, he’d be able to get to know her. But first things first.

  They walked quickly, heads on a swivel to spot anyone who might be out and about. Few people were seen in this world because of the time of day, Brody supposed, but when they did show up, things tended to get violent.

  “Are you still hungry?” Brody asked.

  “I could eat my own arm,” Connie said. “Oh shit. Sorry.”

  Brody smiled. “I’d offer you mine, but then I wouldn’t be able to do any more one-armed pushups.”

  “You do one-armed pushups?”

  “Hah! That’s a no. I’m hungry, too. Want to try and find something?”

  “The bar’s out, I hope.”

  “Don’t want to go back there, huh?”

  “I don’t like shotguns.”

  “Me neither. There’s got to be something around here.”

  “I don’t think I can just waltz in somewhere and sit down at a booth and order. The waitress would probably turn into a zombie and scream at me to get the hell out or something. I don’t belong here, remember?”

  “Yeah, I know. I was thinking more about taking something.”

  “I like the way you think, Brody Quail.”

  Brody and Connie searched the next block over, hoping they would have the time to get to the warehouse and grab the rifle before the shadow man made an appearance or they were both swallowed up by the blackness again and ended up somewhere else. They found a bakery on the next street, and Brody smashed the window with the butt of the knife handle. They would have to risk setting off an alarm, but their hunger was growing worse by the minute, their strength waning.

  Brody took two boxes of donuts and stuffed them into his field jacket. Five minutes later, powdered sugar on their lips and chins because neither of them wanted to wait to eat, they stood outside the warehouse.

  “This is it,” Brody said. “Ladies first.”

  Preparing for insertion took more time than he wanted, but then again, he hadn’t personally done this for quite a while. In his headphones, he heard the tech give him the countdown.

  “Insertion in thirty seconds, sir. Readings are good, environment stability is at acceptable levels. Bio readings are good.”

  “Copy,” Lead replied. He fingered the weapon strapped to his hip. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, but with time ticking down, he might not have a choice.

  “Fifteen seconds, sir. Juices are flowing. See you on the other side.”

  He could feel the chemicals enter his arm, burning as they traveled up his vein, one of the joys of being a diver that he’d forgotten about. “Remember my orders. Not a second past the critical escape time.”

  The tech’s voice was already fading as the insertion process took hold of his body. “Copy, sir,” he heard the tech say, as if he were far away.

  Then, for Lead, there was nothing but blackness.

  They found the rifle right where Brody had left it. They sat down on the concrete floor and ate more of the donuts, but for Brody the snack didn’t seem to be doing much good.

  She wiped her hands against her coveralls, leaving white streaks of powdered sugar. “So what’s next? Do we wait for him here or track him down?”

  “You told me before that he only showed up in places that you knew, not close to any boundaries, right?”

  “Yeah,” Connie said, “but I’m not sure if that’s still the case. Like you said before, it seems like things are starting to fall apart. None of the rules are making any sense.”

  “None of this makes any sense.”

  “No shit.”

  “I say we go looking for him. Maybe back to where the three thugs are. We’ve seen him there a couple of times, right?”

  “If you say so,” Connie replied, tapping her head with her index finger. “I have a memory problem, remember?”

  “Do you want the rifle?”

  “Damn right I do. Want my other knife?”

  “I still only have one hand, so . . .”

  “Wow. I’m really stepping in it, aren’t I?” She paused for a moment, then looked at him, her green eyes glowing in the shadows. “Do you think killing him will make this all stop?”

  “I don’t know. But if he’s behind this, then I don’t see any choice.”

  The environment slowly came into focus through his mask as he transitioned in. For the first few seconds, he wasn’t fully integrated, more of a shadow than anything else, an added layer on top of millions of others. He could move around, but couldn’t interact fully with the environment. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t touch.

  He moved, not willing to wait until the integration process was complete. He studied the grid projected inside his faceplate, then started following the path overlaid on the darkened streets to the point where the tech said Brody and the girl were located. With each step, he became more and more real, his form fully taking shape, until he could hear the crunch of his boots on the icy street, feel the cold air soaking through his suit. He reached down and felt the weapon on his hip.

  “Diver is moving, grid five-one-five, heading for grid six-three-two,” Lead said into his mic. “Confirm target location.”

  The tech wouldn’t be able to speak to him, but Lead’s words would appear on the tech’s tracking console. The response came quickly, the text appearing at the upper part of his faceplate.

  TARGETS CONFIRMED. STATIONARY. TRANSITION POINTS OPENING UP AT GRID LOCATIONS 516, 547, 548, 639. INSTABILITY WITHIN ACCEPTABLE LIMITS, BUT INCREASING.

  “Great,” Lead huffed. The whole thing was degrading to the point of being nearly too unstable to hold together. If he was still in here when it all went south, he’d lose both of his targets
as well as himself.

  “Diver approaching grid six-three-two,” he said.

  There was a warehouse straight ahead.

  Brody had finished giving Connie another refresher on how the rifle worked when he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. “He’s here.”

  Connie stood, brought the rifle to her shoulder, and aimed it at the door they’d used to enter the warehouse. “Do we run or fight?” she asked.

  The inside of the warehouse was dark, but if the shadow man came through the door, he’d be backlit from the streetlights outside. If they positioned themselves correctly, the plan Brody had formulated might work. “We’re going to have to make a stand sooner or later,” he said.

  “I don’t want to run anymore, Brody. I say we kill the bastard. Right now.”

  She was right. Soon, they wouldn’t be in any shape to run. He was weak from hunger—they both were—and eating didn’t seem to help. But even if he’d wanted to run, to find a better place to make their stand, he wouldn’t have been able to convince Connie to follow. Even in the dim light, he could see her green eyes flashing with a vengeance that made him wonder what she’d seen the shadow man do to her family. She wanted blood. “Get behind the boxes and use them for cover,” Brody said, placing Connie where she could stay (mostly) hidden and still be able to cover the doorway with the rifle. He took the kitchen knife from his belt. He told Connie the plan and then moved away, disappearing into the shadows.

  Connie rested her cheek on the rifle’s stock, peered down the iron sights, and with her thumb made sure the selector switch was set to “SEMI,” just as Brody had shown her. One bullet per trigger pull.

  Connie took a deep breath. And waited.

  PART IV

  THE UNRAVELING

  Chapter 34

  Lead knelt in the shadows, studying the building.

  Communication was a problem. At times, when the environment was right (which it wasn’t right now, just his luck), a diver could get a few words out, but usually, the external voice synthesizer wouldn’t function properly. He wished he could stand out here and yell at both of them and explain what was happening, but then again, there was absolutely no guarantee they’d believe him.