by Ben Wise
The conversation drifts off, thankfully, to more mundane subjects, mostly revolving around how neither of us is used to this much exercise in a day. The city itself passes by uneventfully. You know, it seems like once upon a time it may have been beautiful; as beautiful as any city, I suppose. The further we travel from the inner city and towards the outer skirts the more obvious the impact of the war. Each city block takes me closer to a more familiar world. The sun paints fire through the sky and with the scars of war illuminated all around me it’s hard not to feel like I’m once again walking into hell.
With Arms Wide Open
The sun dips below the horizon and the temperature falls with it.
“We’re almost there,” Cara says. “I’m not looking forward to going back. It’s been such a long time. I should warn you, they’re not particularly accepting of strangers. Don’t expect a welcome mat rolled out for you.”
We walk down a street full of neon and nightclubs; most just beginning to open their doors. The streets are already filled with people looking to get into these clubs. More people than I’d ever seen in the one place. Is this what people in the inner city do? None of the clubs seem particularly inviting to me though, frankly and I’m having some serious second thoughts about where I’m being taken.
We seem to be attracting a lot of attention. The gawkers are making me feel uncomfortable. It’s pretty easy to feel like everyone is staring at you when all you want to do is disappear and disappear is what I want to be doing right now. Why are they staring so intently at us?
“Keep your eyes open and try not to stand out. There’s something not right here. I can’t tell what it is; it’s being masked. Try to avoid drawing attention to yourselves,” Nem says to me telepathically, her voice resonating weirdly through my mind, making me pause for a moment. It’s not what I want to hear as I walk into the unknown.
Cara pulls me along, oblivious to the attention. “Come on, it’s at the end of this street,” she says.
The places along this street keep getting seedier and seedier the further we walk. Eventually the street runs out of clubs.
“Where is this place?” I ask.
She points down a side street, where two large men stand sentinel before a massive steel door.
“Hmmm, new guard, this might be a problem,” she says with concern as she walks up to them.
“We need in,” she says stiffly to the guard.
“And who the hell are you? The clubs are back that way, down the street.” He motions with his head. “Fuck off.”
At that moment the big steel door opens and a man sticks his head out. “Calm the fuck down there,” he says to the bouncer. Well, would you look at what the cat dragged in?” He says unimpressed, at Cara.
“She’s one of us,” he says, turning back to the doorman. “Or at least she used to be. She’ll behave. Won’t she?” He turns away before Cara can answer.
The guard reluctantly steps out of the way, letting us slip through the heavy door. Inside a grinding tempo of heavy bass notes reverberates down the hallway.
“Sorry about that, these new guards aren’t the most switched on and I got held up,” The man says. “Now…” He turns quickly to Cara and roughly pushes her against the hallway wall. “What the fuck are you doing here and what the fuck was going through your head when you decided to bring her here?”
Cara doesn’t blink, firing back an aggressive retort. “It’s good to see you too, Calix. Where’s my fucking sister?”
“Oh, she is going to be thrilled to see you,” he says. “Everyone will be when they see her. What the fuck is going through your head? That fucking government-issue langseax on her belt isn’t exactly inconspicuous.
My hand self-consciously reaches for my belt. So that’s what all the stares were for. I’d forgotten I was wearing it. So much for being less conspicuous.
“There are people here who’d be more than willing to slit her throat just for carrying that. But worse, it’s well known that she’s being tracked and yet you knowingly brought her here. Are you insane?”
I really don’t like this talking about me as if I’m not here thing. And if he doesn’t let go of Cara I’m willing to pull the damn knife and force the issue. He backs off and keeps walking, thankfully.
“Word has spread of the attention your friend here seems to attract and there are lot of people here who suspect she’s a government plant. Try not to get yourself killed,” he says. “You’ll find sister is where she usually is.”
Already the few people standing around in this entrance hallway have taken an interest in us. A few don’t appear to be entirely lucid at the moment. Some seem curious. Others still are showing signs of open hostility towards us. Those appear to be the most dangerous looking of the lot.
We quicken our pace to pass them. The hallway opens into a large high-ceilinged room filled with fluorescent cyan lights and multi-coloured lasers pulsing in time to dark electronic music. A dance floor packed with people occupies the majority of the space. Surrounding the dance floor, stages hold dancing women; most scantily clad, some even less, all swaying to the beat of the music. Next to those stages and around the edges of the room reclining upon couches are groups of people in varied levels of animation. There are a few heated conversations going on though it’s impossible to hear what is being argued over the volume of the music. Across from the dance floor is a free standing bar around which a few people are seated on stools, seemingly paying attention to only their drinks. The bar and dance stages visually reflect the building’s previous industrial history; repurposed piping and steel panels, all in various stages of rusting. The room has kept its cold concrete floor and, despite the light show, the inadequate lighting fails to illuminate the corners beyond twisting shadows.
It’s from those shadows that most of the attention is directed at us. Heads turn to stare at us as Calix leads us across the room. I swear it seems like some of their eyes are glowing in the darkness. Word spreads of our arrival like a ripple. By the time we reach our apparent destination, it feels like we have the undivided attention of everyone in building. Even the dancers have slowed to watch us. Some people start moving to leave. The atmosphere in the place chills.
My skin crawls, like dozens of people are caressing me all over. Thinking on some of the things I’ve learnt this past day, it’s easy to suspect that some of them are. The thought of it sparks a fire of aggression that swells through me against such a violation. I’m ready to lash out.
“Come on, before you hurt yourself. They’re waiting for you. You are totally unprepared for a place like this,” Calix says, looking at me.
The feeling stops suddenly, snapping me back to reality with a shiver that runs through me. Calix laughs derisively at me. In a shadowy corner sit a small group of three, occupying a set of couches set up in a u-shape around a coffee table upon which sit the remains of a few drinks. They watch us intently as we’re lead to them.
Only as we get close does Cara’s sister become identifiable among them, sitting on the left. Despite the blunt, more aggressive cut of her bangs, the resemblance is obvious. Her expression makes her seem genuinely curious about our presence. If anything, she seems happy to see her sister. Cara stands back, reluctant to step closer.
Calix takes a seat on the right. Pushing past us, a younger man returns to take up a seat next to him, bringing with him a round of drinks. His outward appearance is messy, unkempt; his motion’s erratic and fidgety. He takes up one of the drinks and hides behind it.
In the centre seat is a man, slightly older than the rest. While the others are wearing functional clothing, his is clean cut and expensive. Everyone in the group defers to him. While he sits back with relaxed authority, his face is nothing but hatred. From that I can tell this isn’t going to go well.
Standing to his left is a young woman not much older than me, with long flowing blonde hair and steel blue eyes set to cut right through you. Currently they’re staring directly through me. While C
ara’s sister shows curiosity and the man in control shows hatred, it’s impossible to read the expression on her face. It also wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if she’s turns out to be a kine. And judging by the way where she stands behind the man, she’s probably his bodyguard.
“This is Logan.” Cara starts introducing, beginning with the man in the centre.
The man, Logan, cuts her short, speaking with venom in his voice. “Cara, I cannot believe that you of all people would be stupid enough to bring her here,” he says. “Word spread pretty quickly about the girl who brings down death upon every place she visits. What the fuck was going through your head when you thought to bring her, who is quite obviously being actively tracked by the Templars, into the single biggest underground psychic establishment in this city? Those same Templars which have decided lately to actively start hunting us down again.”
You know, I’m starting to get sick of being spoken about as if I’m not here. I turn to Caitlin directly, distinctly turning away from him. “I need your help. I’m told that the people tracking me are doing so through a bond with my sister and that they’re using remote viewing to find us. I need to find her. Your sister tells me that you’d be able to do something similar and track her down. Can you help me?”
Logan answers instead, scowling, “holy shit she is crazy.” He talks past me to Cara. “I will not have members of my team running off getting themselves killed by the damn Templars just to help her with some fool’s errand.”
He looks at me and says matter of factly. “You say your sister was captured by the government? She’s already dead. Get over it. You want to go chasing ghosts? Go find yourself a witch.”
A witch? The insult cuts. But I need his help.
“But if they’re still tracking me, she must still be alive.”
He ignores me, turning back to Cara. “I don’t know who she is and I don’t give a shit. Get her the fuck out of here before she gets us all killed. Or I’ll kill her myself.”
That’s enough of being referred to as if I am invisible. I’m tired, it’s been a long day and I’m not going to let this stuck up bastard stop me from finding my sister. That aggressive feeling builds again. I’m not looking to stop it this time. I reach down to my belt as I take a couple of steps forward. Adrenaline preempts any need for a plan on how I can force him help me.
The bodyguard steps directly in front of me before I’m able to get much closer. She’s imposes herself right on top of me, getting right up in my face while putting a firm hand on my shoulder. It’s then she does the unexpected. She leans down and whispers into my ear, a soft and gentle voice. “Not like this. He’s nothing. This will just get you killed. There will be other ways.”
The lack of edge to her voice disarms me, though she keeps a firm hand on my shoulder. Over her shoulder Caitlin looks despondently up at me. “I’m sorry,” she says to me. She shrugs with a pained look on her face. I guess Cara was right; she is lost to this world.
The bodyguard turns her head to face their leader. “I’ll lead them out and make sure that they make it.”
“Yes, please do,” he says, frustrated, waving us away.
“Come on, this way,” she says, pushing me ahead of her.
“So what do we do now?” I ask Cara as we walk away.
“I’m not sure,” she says. “Perhaps we’ll find somebody else able to help us. I’m sure that there must be others. We’ll just have to keep asking around at other places, there are other places we can go to.”
The crowd parts for us as we walk back towards the entrance again. We walked all this way just to get turned away so easily? I feel lost, what am I supposed to do now? It’s difficult to think clearly, I can feel how tired I am.
Cara steps out onto the street first, quickly taking a few steps to distance herself from the place. I’m slower, my pace limited by the weight of my thoughts. As soon as I step out though I can tell straight away that something isn’t right. Something is missing.
The sound of Nem’s voice comes screaming into my head. “Get out of there!” Where the hell is she?
Then I realise. The door guard is missing. There’s movement in the corner of my eye. A new black van parked a few metres down the street is open.
“Oh no.”
The Lights Only Hide the Darkness
I scream out to Cara. Too slowly. Far too slowly. Soldiers seize her before she can react. They drag her into a waiting van, even as more soldiers move towards me.
A firm set of arms pull me back through the club doorway. The woman, the bodyguard, holds me steady. I fight to free myself from her, but she’s far too strong. The steel door slams shut, stopping the soldiers from getting to me. And preventing me from getting to Cara. On the back of the door a large steel rod slides across though no hand moves it, locking the door.
Cara… I fight to get free. I can’t let them take her.
“Calm down, calm down,” the firm voice of the arms that hold me says. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. We have to get you and everybody else out of here.”
Already, people in the club are panicking, looking to get out. Word spread quickly of what happened outside. I’m pulled firmly back, deeper into the club.
“What do we do? Are we trapped in here?” I ask, scared. Right now, I couldn’t feel more alone.
“You don’t think a den of thieves would have a few escape routes available?” She says, guiding me through the chaos and towards the bar. Everyone else appears to be trying to head in the other direction. As we push past the crowd a hand reaches out and grabs me by the wrist, holding me firmly. A hood covers the man’s head making it difficult to see who is holding me.
The lights shifts momentarily and I get a flash of a middle aged man with greying hair and a longish beard. I reach for my knife as panic sets in. The room dims as time freezes.
“You are a long way from home, Nem,” he says looking past me.
I feel a wave of heat spread through my head and it feels like my sinuses are about to explode.
My lips move, out of my control. A voice, my own, responds to him, “We both are.”
“Will you watch over mine as you look over your own?” he says.
“There will be no songs sung for her any time soon. Thank you,” my voice says.
He lifts is head up to look at me. Although it’s difficult to see his face under the hood I can see that the right side of his face is heavily bandaged. One eye stares through me.
“And to you little one, while I cannot help you find your sister, but I can offer you this: Do not think that you are alone in your fight. Forces are aligning to even the balance even as those who work against you seek to grow their power.”
He tilts his head to look past me at my guardian. “Take care of her, Allison. And deal with that fool you’ve been working with before he hurts somebody.”
“Of course,” she responds with a cocky chuckle. She takes me by the arm. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”
Light comes rushing back into the room as time unfreezes. The man disappears, in a blink, as if he was never there. What the hell? Something just happened here and I don’t have a clue what it was.
“Sorry about taking over like that,” Nem says, her voice reverberating through my head. “It would appear that you’ve just gained a very powerful ally.”
“How did he disappear like that? He was just here…” I ask confused.
Nem answers, “What makes you think he was ever here?”
“Come on,” Allison says, with more urgency, “we really need to get out of here.”
She pushes me towards a door behind the bar area. It seems to be the least busy of the exits people are trying to squeeze through.
Caitlin runs up to us, screaming, “Where’s my sister?”
She stands in front of me, eyes red, violently shaking me while screaming it again and again.
Logan follows casually behind her. He looks at me in disgust and says, “You should be thankf
ul I don’t have you killed for this. Caitlin, Allison, leave her before she gets us all killed. We need to get out of this place.”
Allison steps towards him. Her fist hits him in the face with a resounding crack; he collapses to the floor, on one knee stunned. “Be thankful I don’t just kill you now.” She says, coldly.
Blood flows willingly from his nose. His attempt to stand up is shaky at best.
“You’ve just signed your own death warrant for that,” he spits from his knees.
Allison holds a hand, palm out towards him and with a telekinetically charged thump of air, pushes him over again.
“Stop!” The man cries out, struggling to his hands and knees again.
Allison scowls in disgust, then takes another step towards him and kicks him in the ribs, hard. The sound echoes through the now emptying room. He curls up on the floor, winded.
“Do you think you’ll be able to track your sister?” She asks Caitlin.
She nods her head rapidly in affirmation, eyes wide. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Then let’s get out of here already.” Allison says impatiently.
“Where can we go?” I ask.
“Follow me,” Caitlin says impassively.
“Welcome to my place.” Caitlin says flatly as she types a security code into the door of the apartment she’s lead us to.
“Are you crazy?” I ask. “Why have you taken us to your place? This security won’t stop them. What if they track me here?”
“They won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“They won’t.”
I lost count of the number of different security measures needed to get in this apartment complex has Caitlin led us to. I hope that’s not what she’s relying on, because I can’t see that stopping the Templars.
Caitlin turns on the lights to reveal a warm apartment, small, but filled luxuriously. She and her sister share similar tastes. Dozens of landscape sketches adorn the walls. Despite the warmth the house portraits, the place appears untouched and unlived in.