He still couldn't remember everything that had happened. All he could see was the front wheel of his racing chair spinning. The sound of laughter echoing into the night.
They came to a cavernous room at the foot of the stairs. Hitomi explored down a single dark hallway followed by the buff white guy named Dave. A minute later, the tall black girl and the even taller Gramm came down.
What was her name? Indigo. There was something spooky about her. She didn't talk like no black girl he had ever met. She was smart, that's for sure. Rico could see it in her eyes. But she talked like an Anglo—even though they were all speaking some weird-ass language now. Her accent was white American and was unnatural on her. She walked like a white person, too.
Dave reappeared, grinning for the first time. He held a pile of clothes. Rico's enthusiasm died a bit when he saw what the clothes were. He had expected some Jedi-knight robes or something. This was like black body spandex. He picked up a pair, examining then sliding them on. It was better than being naked, but now he felt like a fairy. There were cuts at the back in the shoulders. And they had feet like kiddy pajamas, but they felt solid, forming over his toes like steel boots. He kicked at the stone wall, and he didn't feel a thing.
“Hell yeah,” he said. “High tech.”
“There's a small room just down the hall. It's filled with these. There's some other stuff in there we should check out,” Dave said.
“Do you think we should be just taking these?” Gramm asked. But he put his suit on just as quickly as the others. He worried over everything like an old lady.
The chamber suddenly filled with a brilliant yellow light. The shadows fled like cockroaches. Rico jumped, then tripped over his own feet. His suit shielded the pain of the fall, but it did nothing to cushion his ego. Dave laughed, twisting the knife some more. He stood and brushed himself off, glaring.
Hitomi emerged from the hallway. She wore a suit and held a metal briefcase. She wasn't smiling. She didn't look like someone who could smile. Like an emotionless robot. “I found the light switch.”
“No shit,” Rico muttered, embarrassed. Gramm shot him an angry scowl. He almost said something back at him, but then he noticed the walls. They were covered with pictures. Like the stuff you'd see in history books. Caveman drawings.
Rico walked up to one of the images. They were out of place here. He traced his fingers along the etchings, trying to figure out what the picture was.
Indigo stood beside him. She smelled kind of like flowers. It was nice. After a minute she said, “It's an angel.”
He took a step back, reveling in the simple motion. “I don't see it.”
“It's on fire.”
“Whoa.” She was right. It all came into focus. It was a crude drawing of a winged man holding a big-ass sword. He was consumed in flames, and the grimace on his face was agonizing. He could feel it. The wings were pretty bizarre looking, made of smoke.
Gramm, Hitomi, and Dave tried to open the suitcase thing Hitomi had found. There was a handle on it, but no latch.
“Maybe it's not meant to be opened,” Gramm said.
But Dave wouldn't give up. “Well it's not just a metal box. They wouldn't put a handle on it if it didn't do anything.”
Rico returned his attention to the pictures. He had to look real hard at each one before he could make out the bloody image. They were mostly of angels in various states of death. Some were impaled on swords or long spears. Others were consumed by fire. Lighting struck a male and female pair. Damn creepy.
He looked uneasily at the others.
On the other wall was a great mural that didn't help. He had to step back a couple times to see the whole thing. It depicted a war between two huge armies of angels. On the left side, the injured seemed to fall and vanish, leaving nothing but their empty robes and weapons to fall to the ground below. On the other, the fallen transformed into demonic creatures. Some looked like wingless lizard men. Or frogs with gigantic arms. Or the horned red devils you see in movies. Fissures opened in the ground to devour them.
“This is some crazy shit,” Rico muttered. He glanced at Indigo, who looked real hard at the picture too. “Do you think this really happened?”
A low, booming voice filled the chamber, echoing off the wall. “Of course it happened, though it was very long ago.”
Hitomi let out a surprised shriek. Rico jumped at the sound, and his legs buckled when he landed. He quickly pulled himself up, but no one laughed this time.
The suitcase had opened like a steel bear trap, and inside a miniature holographic angel stood glaring at Rico. The angel had black plate armor and helmet, and slung over his shoulder was a long rifle with a wide muzzle. Long, light-colored hair cascaded down his shoulders. The misty wings spread out far beyond the length of the open suitcase, and the tendrils waved lazily like ocean plants.
“That is wild,” Dave said. He poked through the image with his finger.
The hologram took off his helmet and dropped it to the imaginary ground. His tiny eyes glowed with anger. “Where is your Principality? I demand to speak to him now.”
“Our what?” Dave said.
The angel had a perfectly square jaw and bushy, arched eyebrows. The muscle in his cheek twitched with annoyance. He looked around, scowling at each of them. “Go back up and tell the Keeper to come down.”
“There ain't no one up there,” Rico said.
The angel looked incredulous. “I am the commander of this section. In my thirty cycles, I've never once allowed a platform beacon to go unguarded.”
“We're the only ones here,” Gramm said. “And if you're talking about upstairs, it's abandoned, and it's almost buried under the sand.”
The angel blinked. “What sand?”
“I don't think he knows where he is,” Dave muttered.
Oh man, that pissed him off. “You do not speak to me like that, human.” He growled the word like it was something foul. “I am an anima bot. I always know exactly where I am.”
Indigo stepped forward. “You may know where we are, but this place is almost buried in sand. And there is no one else here.”
“I no longer wish to speak with you. I shall now summon myself.”
Indigo strode forward, grabbed the suitcase by the handle, and dragged it toward the stairs. The angel protested loudly. Rico was the first to follow. At the top, Indigo flung the suitcase about two feet out. It landed so the horrified-looking hologram was at an angle. It flicked imaginary sand from its armor.
Its demeanor instantly changed. “Get me out of here. And get back into the chamber before you're seen. Now.”
Gramm moved to fish the suitcase out of the sand, but Indigo stopped him.
“No,” she said, holding up her hand. “First you answer my questions.”
“Filthy Human.” The hologram ripped his gun off his shoulder as if he wanted to put a few holes in her. Rico took a few steps back just in case he could. “If you do not remove me from this sand and get yourself under cover right now, you will likely experience a death so painful and drawn out, your human mind couldn't fathom it.”
“Do not threaten me,” Indigo said, getting madder by the moment. Rico took back his earlier thought that she reminded him of a white chick.
“I thought we were already dead,” Dave mumbled.
“The danger does not come from me,” the angel spat. The vaporous wings straightened and whooshed up and down angrily. If he had been full-sized, the motion would be downright terrifying.
“Where are we?” Indigo demanded.
“Just beyond Cibola, of course,” the angel said. “Now pick me up and...” He paused. He turned to an invisible companion. “What do you mean you can't locate me?”
A pause while everyone looked at each other, bewildered. Rico's uneasy feeling grew.
“Ping it again.”
A moment later the angel's shoulders slumped, and the gun clattered to the holographic ground. His wings drooped like wet rags. “Oh ... oh no,” he sai
d, looking around the beach. He turned to Indigo, looking crushed. His voice was suddenly gentle. “It'd be best if you got back inside. You'll find passage to the forest from there. Be wary. I'm sure ... Reach the city. Its walls are extraordinarily strong, you know. Goodbye.”
He wrapped his wings around himself, the tendrils covering his body like a mummy. A single, angry spark burst forth, and the suitcase exploded. Pieces of electronics scattered with a loud, choking bang of black smoke. Rico's forehead exploded with pain, like he had been punched right in the forehead. It burned. He quickly extracted a triangular sliver of hot metal from his head. He dropped the still-glowing chunk of metal, his fingers burning. It hurt like hell.
“Is everyone okay?” Indigo asked.
Rico tasted the warm salt of blood as it reached his lips. He was bleeding pretty bad, but it was a scalp wound. Those always bled a lot. His fingers stung too.
“You're bleeding,” Gramm said. “How can that be?” An edge of panic laced his words. He waved his arms like a chicken. “How can you be bleeding?”
Rico shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”
“We need to assume we can get hurt here just as easily as we could before,” Indigo said. She examined his forehead, a motherly-type concern etched on her face. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” he lied.
The cut wasn't that serious after all. It stopped bleeding after a minute, and the pain went away right after that. His fingers stopped hurting, too. Dave looked at the wound with wonder and said the cut had completely healed up.
“What was that thing?” Gramm asked. “Did you see his gun?”
“It was an angel,” Rico said. “He was an asshole.”
“But was it real? It was like a computer simulation of one,” Dave said, scratching his blonde hair. It sounded like someone walking on dried grass. “It was strange.”
Rico nodded. “I think you're right. It was probably broken. That's why it was left here. That's why it blew up.” A panic welled up in him, but he pushed it away, embarrassed to let the others see it. He didn't want them to think he was a wimp. If it was an angel, why was it such a jerk? It just didn't make sense. Nothing here did.
“How did you turn it on?” Indigo asked Hitomi.
“I didn't,” she said. “It opened by itself.”
“I ... I don't understand,” Gramm said. “I've never heard of Cibola before.” He was sweaty, like he was nervous.
Indigo put her hand on Gramm's shoulder. He smiled at her weakly. “Remember your dream. This is the same place. I'm sure Cibola is just what they call it here.”
“That angel seemed to think something was wrong,” Gramm said. “It said we weren't safe.”
“Like Rico said, it was probably broken,” she said, but she didn't sound convinced herself.
Rico couldn't stop thinking about it. If even the angels were bad, what was left? Be brave, be brave. You have your legs back now. Remember what you used to say? You'd give anything to be able to run again.
“I want to go home,” he felt himself whisper.
Something inside of him just snapped, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the sob from escaping. And after that, the rest came easily. His pride burned, but his fear was brighter, the most intense feeling he'd ever known. Indigo came forward, pulled him into a hug. He clutched onto her.
“I want to go home,” he repeated, sobbing into her bodysuit.
“We all do,” she said, stroking his hair.
Forest of Shadows
When Hitomi closed her eyes, she could still feel the fire burning her skin. Ripping, peeling, bubbling. A pain so intense, it burned away her very soul. She was different. They knew it too, though they said nothing. She was the outcast. She could see it in their eyes. She tightly wrapped her arms around herself, holding onto her shoulders. Her entire body felt hollow. She knew what it was like to die. She shuddered when she thought about what had happened next.
Hitomi had been the one to find the utility room with the hologram unit. Several flashlights were scattered across the floor, along with piles of the clothes they were now wearing. There was also the black plate on the wall. The lights had turned on after she placed her hand on it. It seemed someone else had been in there recently, too, because a few grains of sand littered the floor, as if they had been trailed in.
As Rico cried, as he and Indigo clutched onto each other like they were both drowning, she couldn't help but feel a stab of envy. She wanted to go to them both, join their embrace. But she wouldn't know how to do it, what to say, how to feel.
The others talked about the holographic angel as they went back down the stairs and searched the utility room. They were worried. But to Hitomi, it was a relief. It meant that maybe they weren't in the hell to which she was sure they had gone. Maybe there was no such place. But then, what did that mean? She sighed. Too much thinking, not enough action, her father would say. They would find out in time.
“What do you think this does?” Dave asked, holding up a device that resembled a stun gun. He pressed a button, and electricity sparked. “Cool,” he said.
“We need a map,” Indigo said. “Most of this stuff is useless.”
“How do you know it's useless if you don't know what it does?” Rico asked, picking up a double-ended sledgehammer. He threw it down with a clank. “These are all maintenance tools.” Rico tried to make his voice confident, like he hadn't just broken down. It reminded Hitomi of her own little brother, and she knew Rico was probably embarrassed.
The suits they wore had an expandable pouch on the back with a slit on the side for access, and Dave shoved the zapper in. When the pocket closed, it sealed tightly against the back, the air mysteriously drawn out. They filled their packs with whatever they could take: a length of black cord, all the flashlights. Indigo picked up something that looked like a bulky compass, but no characters were etched on it, and the needle was constantly wavering. She threw it down.
They headed down the wide hall, which sloped slightly downwards. Hitomi and Indigo led the way. The smell of must permeated the air, almost overpowering. Everyone was scared. They didn't say it, but Hitomi could feel it. It somehow made her feel better. The lights behind them eventually dimmed, and Hitomi pulled one of the flashlights from her pack. There was no switch, but she figured out how to turn it on by squeezing the handle. The brilliant white light shone like it had a miniature sun in it.
“You could x-ray somebody with that thing,” Rico said.
Indigo tried hers but couldn't get it to work. Hitomi led the way.
The further they went, the mustier it became. It was colder, too. They walked mostly in silence, except Dave and Rico, who talked about their family and homes. Dave came from the American state of Alaska, and Rico was from a sleepy village near the capital of Mexico. They marveled at their ability to talk to each other even though they spoke different languages. Gramm mentioned something about speaking in “Tongues.” Hitomi didn't know what to think of it. It was too overwhelming to think too much about.
No one mentioned their own death. Thank goodness for that. Hitomi was curious, but if the others offered their stories, she'd be pressured to tell hers. She'd have to relive it.
After about an hour of walking, the slope leveled off and the long hallway tightened. Soon, they had to travel single file. Hitomi took the lead. It became clear that Gramm was afraid of the darkness, and Rico was a little claustrophobic. They both began to complain and talk about going back. The stone walls became less polished, like they had been hastily built. The others behind her scraped against the walls.
“You're so quiet,” Dave said to her.
His voice startled her. She turned, and he was right behind her. He smiled. It was crooked on his face, almost goofy looking. His features weren't fine like her boyfriend Nigel's were. They were broad and strong, very American looking.
“I have nothing to say.”
“Well, what're you thinking about?” he asked.
She d
idn't like people asking her that. Her mother did that all the time. “Nothing.”
“I don't believe that for a second,” he said, the slight grin spreading. “It's always the quiet ones who are thinking the most.”
“Not me,” she said, turning, trudging forward. The empty feeling inside of her was more pronounced, like the void within was getting wider by the moment.
About an hour passed. Then another. Still they walked, no longer speaking at all, not daring to stop. They were obviously beyond the beach now, in a passage buried deep under the ground. It had to lead somewhere.
She thought about what Dave had said. She thought about the tugging within her, sucking her inward. She was afraid, but the feeling was almost cold, impassive. More instinct than genuine emotion. She was less of a living thing than she used to be. She didn't just have an empty feeling. She was hollow.
Then, the end of the tunnel. It was still far off, but it brightened their spirits. She imagined what it was like to be lost in a desert, finally to find an oasis. It was like a pinprick in the distance, offering only a hint of light. They quickened their pace, but it still took another hour to finally reach the exit. Vines had grown over the hole. If they had to come back, they would have trouble finding it again. Hitomi stepped from the tunnel and into the warm, fresh air. She stretched her arms. They had come out on the other side of the mist, right into a clearing in the forest Gramm had spoken of.
But to call it a forest would be an understatement.
The shroud of claustrophobia lifted and was replaced by a completely different feeling. Each of the closely-packed trees made the redwoods of America look like shrubs. She had seen those huge trees once in a book and thought nothing could possibly be bigger. She was wrong. The base of one of the skinny ones looked to be about a quarter of a kilometer wide, and it rose beyond her vision into the darkness.
If they weren't so beautiful, their size alone would be terrifying. Like the legs of silent, unmoving giants, so tall and tremendous, they couldn't possibly be aware of the five humans emerging at their feet. She couldn't see any branches or leaves, but they were up there somewhere, blocking out most of the light—except for a small round hole which illuminated the clearing, like a cigarette burn in the top of a tent. There was normal-sized underbrush as well. Four-meter-high trees strangled the scant spaces between their big brothers. She would have to continue to use her flashlight. Brown, feather-shaped leaves the size of city buses littered the ground and occasionally fell, crashing.
The Shivered Sky Page 2