The Real World

by Jacob Long

  I simultaneously stand up and step forward while emitting a searing hot flame sword from my fist. I was hoping to ask the bodyguard some questions, but it doesn't look like I'll get that luxury. I hit him in the chest, and the blade punctures straight through. I carefully guide his body backward as he falls, knocking down a stool in his path. I turn around to see George, Monica, and the three other patrons on the other side of the diner car. Monica is in the front of them. "Are you okay?" I ask. She nods. George stares at me, clearly thinking of his next move. He backs away, turns, and walks out of the diner.

  Monica turns to me. “And to think, I wanted that guy to ask me out on a date.” I turn to her. “You do know that he's a criminal, don't you?” “Well, nobody's perfect.” I smile and shake my head. I look at her and the rest of the patrons. “You guys should go. Take the back exit. I have some more friends coming over soon.” They stare at me before staring at each other. Monica gestures toward the back exit. “Thank you,” she says and walks out.

  I sit down back at my booth. Just before I can take a bite of my very cold and yet still very appetizing jelly covered toast, the three thugs from the freeway show up. They must have all split up to go looking for me, and the big bodyguard found me first. The thug at the front of the group seems enraged. He stares at me. I stare at him. He stares at the body of his associate. I stare as well. He stares at me. I stare at him. I smile and shrug. Then I take a bite of my toast.

  It doesn't matter that it is cold. It doesn't matter that three thugs are charging toward me right now. The toast tastes great. The first thug is only a few feet away. He's closing in fast, but right now, I'm primarily focusing on the crunchy, bready, sweet goodness of this toast and jelly. Secondarily, of course, I'm thinking of how to handle these guys. It shouldn't be too complicated. None of them appear to be very skilled or powerful. However, I did underestimate the big bodyguard, and he did cause me a fair amount of trouble.

  I take a gulp of my drink just before the first thug reaches me. I stand up to greet my new dancing partner. His fighting technique is a clear giveaway. I can see his right hook coming at me as if we choreographed the move a dozen times. Dancing partner is definitely the designation. Doesn't anyone know how to fight in this world? Clearly, this guy was hired from this world. Ministry soldier's know how to fight. This guy doesn't.

  You never start with the hook. I block it with my left, look him dead in the eyes and spit my drink into his face. I step out, grab him by the shoulders and knee him hard in the stomach. Then I grab his collar, bend my knees and pull him down with my body weight. His face smacks into the table, narrowly missing my eggs. I let go, and he drops to the ground. He's out cold. The second thug pulls a gun on me. Finally, a smart guy. Well almost smart. He's smart enough to bring the powerful weapon but not smart enough to know how to use it really.

  He aims it a foot away from my face, holding it with only his right hand. Those are the first two mistakes. The third was the split second hesitation to shoot. I take my right hand and slap the inside of his right wrist while simultaneously grasping the top of the gun with my left hand. I pull the gun away from him and into my own hands. Then I pull the trigger, shooting him twice in the chest. As he falls, the third thug comes at me. He's holding two very large knives.

  I take three shots, and he blocks each one of them with the knives. This guy obviously belongs in a higher pay grade than the other two. Before I can shoot again, he slices at my arms. I move back just in time to avoid the cut. The barrel of the gun slides off. He moves forward again, about to slash, but I knock him back with a blast of flame. He hits the wall on the other side of the diner. He is still conscious, barely. I gesture to the table. "I just want to finish my meal."

  He moans quietly. “Listen, there's plenty for both of us. Just come over here, we'll sit, we'll eat, we'll have a pleasant conversation. It'll be a great time.” He slowly comes around and starts to get up. “Great. I'm going to get started though, cause, it looks like you might be a while.” I sit down, grab the ketchup and pour it onto my cold scrambled eggs.

  I grab a fork and start to dig in.

  He pushes himself up to his knees.

  I take a drink.

  He pulls himself up with the help of the table nearby.

  I finish eating my eggs.

  "I'm sorry, I'm going to need to eat all of this. It wasn't really enough for two people. Maybe you can get some of the leftovers from those other tables as you hobble your way over here." He grabs a steak knife from the table nearby. I grab the other piece of toast and welcome it into my mouth. He picks up his pace. “Come on, man,” I say disappointed, with my mouth wide open. Now he's two tables away and standing on his own. I chew quickly and shove the remainder of the toast into my mouth.

  I grab the phone book, slide out of the booth, and stand up. He stabs at my chest with an underhand grip. I catch the knife with the phone book and twist it around, forcing him to twist his body with it. Immediately, I turn it back, knocking him in the face with the book as I do so. I take hold of the knife holding wrist with my right hand. I turn my back toward him. I lift his knife arm over my head and twist my body back to face his causing his wrist to twist, and forcing him to let go of the knife which I then grab with my left hand. While still holding his right wrist, I pull him toward me and kick in his right knee with my right foot, knocking him to the ground. My knee presses hard against his chest. I set the steak knife down and finish the job with fire.

  I use the phone book to help me find the location of the meet-up point. After all, that was its original purpose. Although, I am glad that it proved useful in another way. I take the thug's van. It's the least they can give me after ruining my lunch. The meetup point is an old warehouse on the pier. I park a block outside of the docks and start walking. It's a long walk, but I could have a tail.

  This warehouse has seen better days. At least, I hope it has. Most of the metal is rusted and brown. The bricks still look good. For the most part. There is one corner with several broken bricks as if something big had once hit it. I sneak in quietly just to be safe. The inside is wide open except for a few stacks of wooden crates and some pillars. Each stack of crates is surrounding a pillar.

  The first one I spot is Callum. Naturally, they've got him on watch duty. It looks like it's clear. Callum sniffs the air and looks in my direction. He pulls his gun out and points it in my direction. "Extreme, is that you?" he asks. "Yes. It's me," I say as I walk out from behind one of the crates. "Although, I'm still not sure I like that nickname." He lowers his gun back to his holster. "Good to see that you made it out of there. The others are over here." He gestures. "Come on."

  He guides me to a stack of crates in one of the far corners of the warehouse. As I turn the corner of the stack, I see Senator Leroy tied up to a chair. Xyla stands a few feet in front of him. It appears that she is interrogating him. Real Jayden is standing a few feet away from her. He looks as though he can't decide whether he is fascinated or terrified at the whole prospect. The senator seems a little loopy. He is slightly slumping in his chair with his head is leaning to the right.

  "Nice of you to join us," Xyla says as she spots me in (I'm guessing) the corner of her eye because she still staring directly at Leroy. She switches her gaze at me. "It's about time you showed up." I smile. "You have the manica," I point to Real Jayden's arms. "You could have left without me." "We weren't sure how to use them; otherwise, we would have," she teases. I gesture to the senator. "What did you do to him? She looks back at him.

  "Oh, it's just another drug from my world," she replies. It keeps the prisoner from yelling and puts them in a more honest state of mind. A light bulb turns on in my mind. "Interesting," I say. "Who creates all of these helpful drugs from your world?" I ask her curiously. "A prominent biochemist," she replies. "His name is Dr. Matua. He's a good friend of mine." "No way," says RT over the comm system. "You're getting all of this, I assume?" I say to RT. "What's going on?" Xyla asks. "You'll see. Once we cross
over into my world," I reply.

  "Uh," she replies. "I'm not going to your world. I have to get this criminal back into my world. The Inter-Dimensional Protection Agency is expecting him." "Well with all due respect, he can't go 'back' to your world because he was never in your world. He's from my world, and that's where he should be held accountable." She walks up close to me. “Excuse me?” she retorts. “We have been investigating this man and his associates for nearly a year now.” “A year?” Real Jayden interrupts. We both turn to stare at him.

  "Yes, about one year," she replies. "Why are you asking me to repeat myself?" Then it hits me, but I'd rather not ask about it. "What exactly led you to this case?" Real Jayden asks. "I don't see how this is relevant," Xyla replies. "The Battle of Idem." Callum has a realization. He looks to me for confirmation. I'd rather not hear about it though. "The Battle for your first island." "That's enough!" I say. "Let's stay on point. The Senator is from my world. The organization that you think you have been investigating is the Ministry, and they are also from my world. This is our war. You," I say inches away from her face, "are an outsider."

  Her eyes are locked with mine. She doesn't want to back down. I can see the ferocity inside of her. The passion. Somehow, I know that she wants to do the right thing. Although we're in the midst of a heated argument, I can't help but feel that we have a mutual attraction for each other. I catch myself looking at her lips. She looks at mine. For a brief moment, it's as though we are alone together. I stare into her eyes. In an instant, her eyes change from brown to green, her skin turns from brown to olive, and her face transforms into that of Elena's. I continue to stare into her eyes. I'm lost inside of them. All of my fears, all of my pain, I can see all of it. I feel completely destroyed. I feel completely vulnerable. "Elena," I say as I reach my hand out to her face. I hold my hand softly against her cheek. She gently lifts her hand up and places it over mine.

  Then without warning, she swiftly brings her other hand up, and stabs a needle into my shoulder. I snap out of my trance. Elena disappears, and Xyla is in her place. She seems worried. I feel myself begin to lose consciousness. I drop toward the ground, and she catches me. She carefully lowers me to the ground. As my eyes get heavier, and my vision gets more and more blurry, I hear her saying something about going to the Extreme World. "Partially because that's where the Senator and the Ministry originated," she says looking to Real Jayden and Callum. Then she turns back to look at me. "But mostly because it looks like he really needs to go back there."

  16

  The Extreme World–The First Island of Idem-2019

  I drive us up the hill and reach a flat, dirt-filled area. The sun is shining the last of today's brightest rays. I stop the PathMaker and step out, standing to the side. Elena walks around and climbs into the driver's seat. Before I can explain the specifics of driving the PathMaker, she smiles and takes off. I find myself more amused than annoyed. I hope she knows what she's getting into. Everyone on the island has access to our standard all-terrain vehicles; however, only the ISF military have vehicles that are this big and this fast. Unlike the Armadillo, the PathMaker is built for speed.

  It's about the size of a car. It has lifted wheels, and two small doors on the side. It also has a heavy duty rolling cage and a platform on the back that can carry a massive artillery gun. I'm glad that I didn't bring that. Elena drives around in a circle, kicking up dirt as she makes her way back to me.

  She slows down only enough for me to think that she is stopping. Elena whirs past me, driving in another circle. She's good. I shake my head and smile. Finally, she pulls up next to me and comes to a complete stop. Elena's trying hard not to laugh although, her face is beaming with a smile that she just can't seem to hold back. "That's good. That's really good," I say, sarcastically. "Way to be responsible and drive safe." I turn around and start walking the other way. Without hesitation, she flips the vehicle into reverse and follows alongside me.

  “Come on. Don't be like that,” says Elena.

  “Nope. You've gone too far this time,” I tease.

  "It's hard to drive backward like this. I might crash your precious Path Maker," says Elena

  "Fine. For the sake of the PathMaker. I'll get in. But I'm not happy about it," I say.

  “Ah, buddy...”

  I shake my head. “You're terrible.”

  “Um what?” she asks feigning shock.

  I hop in, and my angry act immediately dissolves as I take one look at her.

  She stares at me with her beautiful soul piercing green eyes.

  "Terribly pretty," I concede. Elena smiles.

  “You know, I wouldn't do this stuff to you, if you hadn't started doing it to me,” Elena says.

  “I find that hard to believe,” I reply.

  "Yeah, you're probably right," she grins, and I can't help but reciprocate.

  “Just follow that trail.” I point to one of three trails that lay ahead.

  “Don't tell me what to do,” She teases.

  “I command you to follow that trail,” I tease back.

  “Was it always going to be that trail or is that the trail that I get now that I'm in trouble?” She asks.

  I laugh under my breath.

  “You'll just have to follow the trail and find out,” I say.

  We ride up the trail to a secluded area at the top of a high hill overlooking the entire island. I pull the picnic basket out. Elena quietly sings as we walk along the grass. She catches me looking at her and smiles as she finishes her song. As we reach our spot, I lay the blanket down and set the basket on top. The view is magnificent. Our island is a wonderful place.

  "Terribly pretty?" Elena asks, snapping me out of a trance. "Hmm?" I reply, acting like I don't know what she's talking about. "In the PathMaker, you told me that I am 'terribly pretty.' What is that even supposed to mean?" she asks. "Did I say that," I reply. "Oh, yes. You definitely did," she insists. "So what does it mean, hmm?"

  "Well," I pause, thinking on the spot, "basically... Terribly Pretty..." She smiles. "I can see the wheels spinning," she interrupts, "but go ahead." I laugh under my breath. "Thank you." I clear my throat. "Basically, when a girl is so pretty that the mere thought of being away from her for even an instant makes a guy feel so very terrible then she is, in fact, terribly pretty." She shakes her head, still smiling. I lean over to kiss her. She pulls back, teasing me. She comes forward, and our lips meet for a moment.

  "All right," she says. "Can we eat now? I'm starving. I pull our sandwiches out of the basket and hand one of them to her. As I take a bite, I catch myself staring off at the hills. My Grandma would always say that the rolling hills here are similar to the ones that are in southern California. They must have made quite an impression. She was only eight years old when she left them. I remember one time when Elena's Great Grandma was talking about the rolling hills that she grew up with in Siberia. I only had to look at Elena's face to know that she was fascinated by the place that her family came from. After that, I promised myself that when we defeated the Supreme Ministry, I would take her there myself. Now that goal is looking to be less of a reality than before.

  It's been nearly six months since that last mission to the west coast of Paradisum. Not only did we lose the slaves, but the files that we stole, revealed the Ministry to be even more powerful than we had imagined. Their technology has only gotten better, and they have expanded their numbers and territory exponentially. Although they had slowed down activity in North America, they continued to be extremely active in expanding their other dominions. They have also been hard at work creating more super soldiers with varied abilities. The only thing we couldn't find in those files was a weakness. The one saving grace is that RT has been able to replicate much of their technology.

  "What are you thinking about so intently?" says Elena. I realize that I've been staring out into the sky. I look over to see her smiling. Her demeanor is more serious now. Her smile carries a small amount of worry with it, or perhaps it's hiding a
large amount. "Sorry, I just started thinking about the hills and what our grandparents used to say about them," I reply with a smile. It's easy for my lips to curl up whenever I'm looking at Elena. It's not just her physical beauty. Not just the aesthetic, although she is magnificently beautiful in that regard. Beyond the symmetry of her face and the curves of her body, it's the intangible spark in her eyes, the clever and funny things that she is always saying or doing and the strange feeling of trust that comes with someone so witty and sarcastic.

  “Now, all I can think about are those beautiful green eyes of yours,” I say. “Oh, really?” she replies. “Yeah, they look like two creamy avocados.” I turn my head and lean forward, pretending to gnaw at one of her eyes. She laughs and pushes me away. “You're weird.” I smile and gently kiss her eyelid.

  "Seems like you were thinking about more than just the hills." She says after a brief silence. "You shouldn't keep things from me. Even if you want to protect me." "I hate to sound accusatory," I say, playfully. "But were you reading my mind?" I ask. "No," she replies. "I've been reading your face. It's pretty obvious when you don't want to tell me something for my protection." "Fair enough." I take her hand and hold it in mine. "I was thinking about the last mission to Paradisum." "What about it?" "About everything that went wrong."