The Forgotten

by R. L. King

  They were looking at what could only be described as a torture chamber, or a charnel house. It was a large room, probably used previously as a communal dressing area for the theater. Now, though, the far wall was lined with large cages, each one containing a captive. Metal hooks hung from the ceiling, on which various severed and rotting human body parts had been skewered. Several pieces of wooden and metal apparatus, some looking like it had been brought in from the dungeon next door, occupied most of the open space, including one that looked like a rack and held a messily eviscerated male body with its entrails pulled out and draped over the edges. Inexplicably, several padded armchairs lined the near wall. At the far end of the room was a closed door, next to which were stacked three naked bodies, also obviously dead. The stench of decay in here was overpowering.

  Stone, Jason, and Verity took all this in in the space of a few seconds, and then they were moving again. “Verity, watch the door,” Stone ordered.

  “Get us out of here!” screamed a man. “Please, oh God, let us out!” Like the other captives—three men, two women, and a boy of about fourteen—he looked ragged, dirty, and terrified.

  “Where’s the key?” Jason called. All the cages were locked with chains and padlocks. He was struggling hard to keep his gorge in place—there wasn’t any time to waste losing his dinner. Inexplicably, his mind flashed back to the haunted house—how clean it had looked compared to this, how different the smell of popcorn and sawdust had been from this nightmarish stench of blood and rot and excrement.

  “On the wall by the door.” The man was sobbing with fear, but obviously trying to keep it together. “Quick, before more of them come!”

  “Anyone in that back room?” Stone demanded.

  “N-no,” said one of the women. “That’s—that’s where they store—bodies.”

  Jason was already moving, grabbing the key off the wall hook where it hung. He hurried over and began unlocking cages, starting with the young boy. “How did you get here?” he asked.

  “Snatched,” the man sobbed. “All of us. They—they grab homeless people. Runaways. People—people nobody will miss.”

  “And torture them?” Jason demanded.

  The woman nodded. She was white as a ghost. She pointed vaguely at the body parts on meathooks. “They…like it. Doing that to people. They—”

  “Any of you Forgotten?” Stone cut her off. He kept shooting glances toward the door, as if expecting more DMW to come in.

  Most of them looked perplexed, but one thin young man who looked ill nodded. “I am.”

  “Can you—do anything?”

  Jason was still unlocking cages; as he did each one, the occupant came tumbling out, staggering with fear. “Nothing—useful,” the young man said. “I’m sorry…”

  “It’s all right,” Stone said, looking grim. “Come on—we need to get out of here.”

  Verity, meanwhile, was rifling through the unconscious DMW gangers’ clothes. “Hey!” she called. “I found a gun!”

  Jason spun. “Give me that,” he ordered. She handed it over and he inspected it, checking to see if it was loaded. “I thought the DMW didn’t use them,” he said. “But I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  Stone was checking out the rest of the room. “Are you sure there’s nothing useful in that room?” he asked the captives. “We’ve not much time.”

  “Just bodies, I think,” the man they’d first been talking to said.

  Stone sighed. “Cover the door, Jason,” he said, and moved over to check. Jason got a quick glimpse of something red as he opened the door and a horrible smell, worse even than before, fetid and coppery and almost tangible, rolled out. When Stone closed the door and turned back to the group, even his normally unflappable demeanor was slipping. “Let’s go,” he said in an odd tone. “Nothing to save in there.”

  “Wait!” It was the young boy who spoke this time.

  Stone turned to him. “What?”

  “There’s more of them here,” he said. “Mister—you’re not gonna believe me, but—I saw Gordon Lucas!”

  “Who?” Stone asked.

  But Jason and Verity were both staring at the boy like he’d sprouted a second head. “Gordon Lucas? The talk show guy?”

  The kid nodded. “Yeah. That’s how they got me. I went to one of his homeless benefit things, tryin’ to get some food. His people asked me a bunch of questions, and then when I left, I got grabbed by those guys.” He pointed at the gangers. “I didn’t think it was connected ’til I got here. I been here awhile, before the rest of these guys got here, and I seen him. He comes in here sometimes! In this room! They torture people and he sits there and—and—and watches!” Tears streamed down the boy’s cheeks.

  Stone’s eyes widened. “The philanthropist?” He clapped his hand to his forehead. “Of course! It all makes sense. Who else could possibly be less obvious, but more logical?”

  “Wait a sec,” Jason said. “Gordon Lucas is the Big Evil? The guy gave up the talk show a few years back to help the poor?”

  “Quit—a few years ago!” Stone almost yelled it. “I remember it now! It was all over the news. Everyone was so surprised he’d quit at the top of his popularity. Why would he do that? everyone was asking.”

  “Because he’s possessed!” Verity filled in. Her eyes got big too. “And he’s here? In this building?” She stared at the boy.

  “I don’t know who Gordon Lucas is,” said the first man, “But there’s a guy who comes in sometimes—a couple of them. One looks like a movie star—older guy, tan, gray hair, big teeth—”

  “That sounds like Lucas,” Jason said.

  “The other one’s—this mousy-lookin’ guy in a suit.”

  “I think he’s a mage,” said the Forgotten man. “The mousy guy.”

  Stone’s expression hardened. “Come on,” he said quickly. “Jason, any more guns on those gangers?”

  Verity answered: “I checked them all—just that one. And no extra ammo that I can find.”

  “All right,” Stone said. “Jason—and you.” He pointed at the first homeless man. “Drag them into those cages and lock them up. We have to get you out of here, and fast.”

  Jason and the man did as directed, and Jason pocketed the key when they were done. The other homeless people huddled together, still looking terrified. Everyone was clearly trying hard not to look at the grisly body parts swinging on the overhead hooks.

  “How are we gonna get them out?” Verity asked. “We have to—do what we came here to do. And we haven’t seen any other exits except through the club. We can’t send them through there. They’d get grabbed again as soon as somebody spotted them.”

  “We—” Stone started, but he didn’t get a chance to finish. From the hallway outside came the far-off sound of running feet and yells. “Damn!” His gaze darted back and forth between the people in the room. It locked for a moment on the boy. “Did Lucas say anything about where he is when he’s not in here? When was he here last?”

  The boy looked panicky. “Uh—uh—” He was almost hyperventilating—Stone’s intense focus was obviously spooking him almost as much as the torture chamber. “He was here—like an hour ago. He—said something about the office. That’s all! I’m sorry!”

  “It’s all right, it’s all right.” Instantly Stone turned away. “You lot might need to hide for a bit. The only exit we know isn’t feasible to use right now.”

  Jason was peeking around the doorframe, gun ready. “I don’t see them yet,” he reported. “But they’re getting closer.”

  “All right, everybody out,” Stone ordered, making shooing motions. “Directly across from this room is a stairway, and underneath that is an under-stage storage area.” He motioned to the prisoners. “You go there, be quiet, and wait. Try not to get noticed.” He pointed at the Forgotten man. “I’m guessing you don’t have a conc
ealment power.”

  The man shook his head, looking miserable. “I—I’m good with animals.”

  “Great,” Stone snapped. “If they have a dog, we’re set.”

  “Go!” Jason called urgently, trying to keep his voice down. “Go now. They’re getting closer. I think they’re on the stage!”

  Stone, Jason, and Verity herded the homeless group out and directed them under the stage. “Al—can you conceal them if you’re not with them?”

  “No, I—wait. Yes I can.” The mage fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small crystal wrapped in metal wire. He passed his hand over it, muttered something, and handed it to the Forgotten man. “Hold on to this, and stay together,” he said so the others couldn’t hear. “It will help conceal you, but it’s not foolproof, nor is it invisibility. Just hide in the shadows and stay quiet. We’ll be back for you when we can.”

  “You’re a—” said the Forgotten man, taking the crystal.

  Stone nodded. “Now go.”

  “Al, they’re getting closer.” Jason was still nervous, though less so than before now that he had the gun out.

  The Forgotten man nodded and quickly took charge of the group, urging them under the stage. After a few seconds they faded into the shadows.

  “Don’t you need that crystal?” Verity asked Stone. “Isn’t it one of your power thingies?”

  “I have a few more,” he said. “Don’t worry about that.”

  “Can you conceal us again?” Jason asked.

  “I can try, but it won’t work very well if they’re looking for us. Come on. We need to find this office. I don’t know if Lucas is here now, but if he is, we have to find him.”

  The door at the end of the hallway to the right of the torture chamber burst open, and three DMW gangers poured through. “There they are!” one of them yelled, pointing. “Come on!”

  Jason grabbed Verity’s arm and pulled her up the stairs to the backstage area. Stone remained for a moment, crouching and launching a spell at the three. One of them grabbed his head and dropped to the ground. The other two staggered, but kept coming.

  “Come on, Al!” Jason yelled. Stone backed his way up the stairs, and Jason grabbed him and pulled him the rest of the way.

  “I wonder how many of them there are in here,” Jason said, ducking back to the side. “I don’t want to shoot anybody unless I have to, but—”

  The remaining two gangers, apparently realizing that plunging madly up into the midst of a group containing at least one mage wasn’t the wisest course of action, had slowed down now. Jason and the others could hear them working their way up the stairs. “We have to find the office,” Stone said. “Before Lucas gets wind that something’s up and scarpers.”

  “Come on.” Jason pointed behind them, toward where the actual stage was. The curtain had long since rotted away; it hung in musty, shredded ribbons high above them. “I’m guessing it’s up front.”

  One of the gangers chose that moment to poke his head around the corner. Stone, who’d been waiting for just that, plugged him with a spell. They were rewarded with a grunt of pain and the sound of the other ganger retreating back down the stairs. “Come on!” Jason whispered again.

  They hurried across to the front of the stage, staying in the shadows off to the left backstage area and taking as much care as they could manage not to trip over the debris strewn on the wooden floor. The floor creaked ominously under their feet and sent up puffs of dust with every step; Jason hoped it hadn’t rotted to the point where they risked falling through if they hit a bad spot.

  Stone was scanning the auditorium. There wasn’t much light, so only vague shapes were visible. “Most of the seats are gone, it looks like,” he muttered. “Probably stolen over the years. We need to stay to the sides—if anyone’s watching, they’ll pick us off with ease in the middle.”

  “That’s a long drop down,” Jason said, pointing at the front part of the stage.

  “We can do it,” Verity said. “Come on, let’s do it before that other guy gets brave again.”

  They moved forward cautiously, continuing to stay to the left. Soon, they reached the point where they’d have to break cover if they wanted to get down off the stage. “All together, then,” Stone said. “I’ll try to conceal us, but don’t count on it. Get to cover fast.”

  “One—two—three,” Jason whispered, and they jumped.

  They hit the ground and moved off to the left, and not a moment too soon. Gunfire erupted from somewhere ahead of them, and muzzle flashes appeared at the back part of the theater, high above the auditorium.

  “They’re in the control booth!” Stone yelled. “Move! We have to get to the back!”

  They moved, crouched low and running as fast as they could go in the darkness, while bullets pinged off the wall behind them. They didn’t stop until they’d reached the back wall.

  “We’re under them,” Stone said, puffing a little. “They won’t stay up there long. Be ready.”

  “Where’s the stairs up?” Jason demanded, looking around.

  “Other side—has to be,” Verity said. “I don’t see ’em here.”

  “Might be inaccessible from here,” Stone said, trying to look everywhere at once. “I don’t see the offices, either. Must be upstairs as well.”

  “If there’s only one exit from up there we might have ’em cornered,” Jason said, already moving.

  “Don’t count on it,” Stone said.

  “Got ’em!” yelled a voice—from behind them. All three spun to see a group of three DMW gangers rounding the corner—just as they heard more footsteps from the direction in which they’d been heading.

  “Fuck, we’re surrounded!” Jason yelled, bringing the gun around to aim at the group in front of them.

  Stone looked grim. “Deal with the group in front,” he ordered. “I’ll take care of the ones behind.” And before either of the other two could protest he was off, back the way they’d come.

  Jason didn’t like this at all, but he didn’t have time to say anything about it. The front group of gangers was now rounding their own corner—there were four this time, and one of them had a gun. “Down, V!” he yelled, reaching around to shove her toward the floor. Dropping into a crouch, he aimed his gun, allowing well-honed instincts and muscle memory from his time in the Academy to take over. Focusing on the ganger with the gun, he squeezed off a round.

  There was a deafening bang! and the ganger spun, dropping his gun and screaming in agony. Verity watched from the floor wide-eyed, her hands clamped over her ears, then leaped back up again.

  The other three gangers hadn’t stopped, though. They surged forward, yelling obscenities and pulling knives from their jackets. Verity was able to evict one of them before he reached them, and he too dropped as the Evil left his body. The other two launched themselves at Jason, who pulled the trigger again.

  Click.

  Wildly, he glared down at the gun. He’d checked it! It had a full magazine! But his quick glance told him what he needed to know—the thing was in terrible repair and probably hadn’t been cleaned or maintained in ages, if ever. He didn’t have time to worry about it now, though—one of the gangers had his hands around his neck, and the other one was going for Verity.

  Enraged at the thought of these lowlife scum touching his sister, he lashed out with his fist and caught the ganger in the stomach, then brought both hands together and forced them up between the ganger’s arms. The punk’s hold broke, giving Jason an opportunity to aim a heavy-booted kick right at his gut. The ganger staggered back, stunned, and Jason spun to face the other one.

  Verity was in trouble. She was obviously trying to do her mind push to cast out the Evil, but the ganger in her face was playing hell with her concentration. She was backstepping, but the ganger was almost on top of her when suddenly he pitched forward and hit the ground with a crash at h
er feet, revealing Jason standing behind him, puffing, holding his gun by the barrel. “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded quickly. “Yeah. I—couldn’t—”

  “It’s okay. You’re new at this. Come on. Let’s find where Al got to.”

  But he’d forgotten about the stunned ganger. “Jason, look out!” Verity yelled, but too late. The ganger plowed into Jason from behind, taking both of them down.

  Jason hit the ground hard, but again his instincts took over and he rolled forward, pitching the ganger over his head and leaping back to his feet. “I hear more of them!” Verity called.

  “Fuck!” Jason spun sideways to keep both directions in sight at once. The formerly stunned ganger was getting up, and three others were coming around the same corner. “Do you see any guns?”

  Verity didn’t answer. She was concentrating again, and this time it worked. One of the three stopped, screamed, and fell to the floor. The other two looked panicked, and then both of them went for Verity. “Get the bitch!” one yelled.

  Jason lunged forward and planted a fist right in the middle of the ganger’s face. His nose exploded in a spray of blood, but he tried to keep coming. All of them were like madmen now. “No!” Verity yelled, and focused on the uninjured one. Like his friend, he clutched his head and fell down to his knees, not quite unconscious, but looking bewildered.

  “Come on!” Jason yelled, grabbing Verity’s arm. He’d spotted a stairway up just around the corner—it must be the one that led up to the tech booth and offices above them.

  “Wait! What about Dr. Stone?” Verity protested.

  Jason looked around wildly, but didn’t see the mage. He could hear the sounds of combat, though, back the way they’d come. He was about to turn around and sprint back in that direction when two more gangers came up the hall. He snatched the ganger’s dropped gun, hoping it worked better than the one he’d been using, and dragged Verity up the stairs.

  “We should be able to see better from up there!” he told her as she tried to protest again. “The booth is open to the seats!” He had to hope that, with all the magical focus objects and doodads Stone had been making the past few days, he had enough punch to deal with the gangers, at least for a little while.