Haven

by Justin Kemppainen

  Which is why she dove behind a set of steps leading up to a tall brick housing complex, upon seeing two figures walking down the street. She scraped herself on the dried husks of shrubbery, cursing under her breath as the people approached. She poked her head just over the edge, watching as they neared. She ducked back down, held her breath, and listened to their hushed tones.

  “…not a clue where this man is supposed to be. How in the hell are we supposed to find him if all they give us is a general location? Sergei is out of his mind!” A loud female voice with a prominent accent.

  Sergei? Kaylee had heard this name before. He was another faction leader. A small-time Russian underboss, a couple of generations removed. The group was gutted when the call for lower level Citizenship came out, losing a significant amount of their members. Long before that, they were a thriving organization, still clinging to some ideals of their old nationalism. This, in turn, attracted more members to immigrate to the city from other areas, before Lange took over and shut down any movement to or from the outside. In terms of their organized criminal activities, they remained very mild, mostly dabbling in black market activities and running their own acquisitions when they could. From what Kaylee had heard, Sergei was actually a fairly good leader who worked hard to keep his people alive. She also heard he was a little bit crazy.

  The other person, a man, chuckled. His accent was less obvious. “Take it easy Tanya; he has got the right idea by going and trying to make contact. If the bastard Citizens are going to be sending people to kill us instead of just kidnapping, then something has to be done.”

  “Yes, I understand that!” she snapped back. “Why don’t we deal with it ourselves instead of trying to find this phantom man?” asked Tanya.

  The man sighed. “Our organization is nothing like what it was. You know this. We don’t have enough people left to fight the Citizens ourselves. Besides, you saw the bodies; they say that this Elijah lured them down here into an ambush. We need such a man; he could help us.”

  She remained indignant. “You are a mewling pup Eugene! If we showed strength instead of behaving like weak little sheep, the Citizenship and fools like the Silver Fox would run and cower!”

  The footfalls stopped about ten feet away from the stairs behind which Kaylee hid. She could hear the sounds of small scuffling. She peeked up, watching as the man grabbed the woman by both shoulders. She struggled to shake him off.

  “Listen to me. Listen!” He shook her; she stopped resisting long enough to shoot him a deadly glare. “The time for strength will come, but we cannot manage it by ourselves! We have to make alliances with proper people. This Elijah is one of the few people who has taken on the Citizens and won!”

  Tanya rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just remember: we don’t- hey, who’s there?!” She shouted, seeing Kaylee.

  Oh shit. Kaylee jumped up from her hiding place, pulling the small black .22 out of the waistband of her jeans. She held it in front of her, yelling “Don’t move!”

  The girl, Tanya, had already yanked a huge combat knife from an ankle sheath, brandishing it front of her in overhand fashion. She half-crouched, poised to strike, baring her teeth in a wild grin.

  Eugene grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her backward. “Just wait a-” Instead of listening, she threw a quick elbow to his stomach. Not expecting it, he let out a blast of air and a loud “aaaauwf!” as he went down on one knee, clutching his midsection.

  Kaylee held the pistol in both hands, training it carefully on the woman who inched her way towards her, dancing back and forth, feinting. “Stop! I’ll shoot!” She shouted.

  The woman kept the grin on her face. “You couldn’t hit me anyway.” She said. “Look at you, you didn’t even remove the safety.”

  Kaylee scoffed. “There’s no way you can tell from that distance.” She realized her mistake as, the moment she diverted her glance to the pistol, Tanya juked to the side and sprang. Startled, Kaylee squeezed the trigger before lining up the shot. The bullet, unaimed, went wide, missing Tanya by several inches. The small recoil snapped the pistol in her hands as Tayna raised the knife.

  Tanya didn’t arrive. Eugene, on the ground, grabbed her leg and yanked. Tanya sprawled face-first forward onto the ground, knife flying out of her hand. Kaylee took a few steps back and held the pistol in both hands again, switching her aim back and forth between the two Russians. Eugene was holding his stomach, still breathing hard, as he stood up.

  Tanya rolled over and screamed angrily. She maneuvered a crouched position, baring her teeth before hurling herself directly into Eugene. His eyes went wide with surprise as she impacted his midsection, tackling him to the ground. She perched on top of him, pounding him with her fists, spewing insults and curses at him.

  She was partway through calling him something Kaylee thought might have been “red-assed whore shit,” when he threw her sideways, using the momentum to roll on top of her. He grabbed her wrists, yelling “Calm down, damn you!” She continued yelling curses and struggling, but eventually relaxed enough to just glare at him, fuming.

  Kaylee watched the entire exchange with mouth slightly agape. Finally, she realized that they were ignoring her. She tried to walk away, giving them wide berth and keeping the pistol aimed as she moved around them.

  “Hold on a second!” He yelled to Kaylee. Looking down at Tanya, who, at his brief distraction, struggled again, “Enough already!” He yelled. The two scowled at each other for several moments.

  The man called Eugene sighed and stood, grabbing Tanya’s wrist and hauling her to her feet. The woman took a few steps away and glared at the two of them, back and forth, in a defensive stance, breathing hard. She had dark blonde hair, slightly mussed from the activity. She was a little taller than Kaylee and quite scrawny.

  Eugene hunched over, hands on his knees, speaking between deep breaths. “Please... everyone… relax…”

  Kaylee raised an eyebrow at Tanya, who scowled, then folded her arms. Kaylee kicked the fallen knife over. Tanya smirked, picked it up, and held it in one hand, twisting the point lightly into her fingertip. Eugene stood up and took one final deep breath.

  “Okay. Now that we’re all nice and calm, could you not point that at me?”

  Kaylee looked down, almost surprised to notice that she still held the gun, aimed at Eugene. She lowered it, thumbing the safety and replacing it again at the back of her jeans. “You’re Sergei’s people?”

  They exchanged glances, “Yes, we are. Who do you work for?” asked Eugene.

  “Oh, no one. I’m alone.” Kaylee lied.

  Eugene shook his head. “Really? Huh… well, what-”

  Tanya cut him off, “What were you doing spying on us?” She accused.

  “What? Oh! Sorry about that.” Kaylee feigned an apologetic face. “I wasn’t sure who you were. I saw you down the street, so I ducked behind the staircase. Can’t be too careful,” she said with a shrug.

  Tanya eyed her warily, “I don’t-”

  Eugene rolled his eyes, “Tanya, be civil.” He turned back to Kaylee. “Well, where do you usually stay, miss…?

  “Kaylee. I wander around wherever I can scrounge up a little food. I avoid the downtown area for the most part, too risky. Well, I guess I do stay in the Escape sometimes. Nice beds.” Kaylee hoped she was playing her role carefully enough.

  Eugene raised an eyebrow at Tanya, who continued to scowl.

  Kaylee looked back and forth between the two. “What? What is it?”

  “Well, you say you move around a lot… How much do you know about the area ahead?” He gestured down the street from where she had come.

  “A little,” Kaylee responded, “the arts district is that way. Past there, not too far, is the east wall. If you head south you’ll find another residential area like here.” She made a sweeping motion around.

  “All right. Are there any inhabitants near there?”

  Kaylee raised an eyebrow. “Like who?”

  Eugene shrugged, “We’re loo
king for a leader, someone named Elijah?” Kaylee tried to keep her face motionless.

  Tanya jumped forward. “Hah! See! She clenches her jaw. She knows the name!”

  “Wait, what? Hey!” Kaylee stumbled backward as Tanya seized her shirt.

  “Tell us where he is!” She shook Kaylee.

  “I don’t know!” yelled Kaylee, trying to pry free of the woman’s grip.

  Eugene stepped in again, grabbing Tanya by the shoulders and shoving her away. He held both hands up, standing between the two. “Enough!” He looked at Kaylee once more. “Please. If you have any information, tell us.”

  Kaylee pondered for a minute, pacing a little, making a show of it. “Well, I don’t really know anything about him.” She held her hands out in a helpless gesture. “I’ve heard the name before, and I think you guys might be on the right track. It’s rumored there’s a settlement around here somewhere, and that some guy named Elijah is the leader,” she paused, considering again, “Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “Be careful though. I hear rumors that he’s really paranoid, shooting trespassers on sight without questioning it. Maybe you’ll want to declare your intentions loudly and often from now on? Otherwise they might just kill you without you ever getting a word in.”

  Tanya poked her head over Eugene’s shoulder. “How is it you are still breathing? You came from that way and they did not shoot you! How do you know these things?”

  Kaylee shrugged, internally worried she was giving too much information away. “Maybe they recognized me? Or maybe it was because I just passed through without stopping to snoop around? I don’t really know why.” She craned her neck, looking around in all directions. “Look, I’d rather not get caught standing in the middle of nowhere chatting, so if you don’t mind…” She made as if to start walking again.

  Eugene blocked her path. “Yes, of course. Thank you for your help and sorry for the trouble.” He offered his hand, which Kaylee shook.

  Tanya scowled at the gift, her arms folded. “Let’s go, Eugene. Leave the silly girl.” She started walking down the street.

  Eugene looked back at Kaylee and smiled. “Good luck.”

  She smiled back. “You, too.”

  Kaylee walked in the opposite direction; she hoped that she was convincing enough without being too obvious. As she went she searched her memory for anything about Sergei. She thought she remembered hearing a few things during the several years that she was alone.

  Sergei had a decently high rank in the syndicate but had found himself to be near the top of authority when all others deserted, clamoring to avoid being trapped in the darkness. The organization spiraled into chaos, dozens of men trying to fill the vacant leadership spot using various means.

  Sergei, even though practically fearless, was smart about it, and he avoided an iron fist approach. He took several trusted individuals into hiding with him while the war for control raged outside. Eventually, clear winners were decided, but the new leadership soon discovered that the dark, abandoned city held no allure of profit. Any who sought personal gain soon left when the Citizenship looked to fill out the ranks of their armed forces and Acquisition Squads. They were attracted by the compensation of good food and accommodations, as well as an unspoken promise of the capability to cause suffering. Numerous criminals flocked to the opportunity, finding an outlet for twisted desires.

  Sergei had stepped back in, leading the remaining group and welcoming in many others. They had since survived, but early on faced a great deal of pressure from more aggressive leaders, like Miguel. Sergei had been considered weak because he engaged in little hostile action and was concerned more with the safety of his remaining people than with ruling over them. However, Miguel soon learned to leave him alone when, one morning, his men found a basket full of severed fingers and toes: the only remains of a small force he had sent to procure food, supplies, and women from Sergei.

  Kaylee gave a little glance backward, but she could no longer see the two in the darkness. She hoped for the best for them. She had wanted to give them more information, but she was unsure of how trustworthy they could be. Elijah’s people made a point of doing everything possible for survival, and that meant no outsiders were allowed to know important locations like the Highland. Besides, Kaylee was working on more important things at the moment. Eugene and Tanya would have to make do with what little they were given. Hopefully, they wouldn’t get killed, as they appeared to represent exactly what Elijah was looking for: alliances.

  Kaylee smiled to herself. I guess I wouldn’t be too upset if Tanya got a little roughed up, she thought.

  Chapter 13: Power Meeting

  The round black elevator rose through the spire of the Institution complex, located in the lobby of the Inquisition sector. It was the pillar that rose above the city of Haven, and housed the most important meeting places and some of the most important people. The single occupant of the elevator was almost giddy, trembling with excitement as the car continued to ascend. It was attached to the outside of the spire, and the back portion was clear glass. The view of the clean, white city of Haven was breathtaking. He did not notice.

  Gregory Michaels put his hands in his pockets, pulled them out, rubbing them together. He paced back and forth in the small space, smoothed his lab coat, straightened his name tag. He ran his fingers through his thinning hair, rubbed his chin. He continued all manner of fidgeting as the doors slid open.

  A circular room lay before him, just past a small ramp. He looked past the short incline, and saw the room itself was symmetrical, and could see another ramp across from where he was leading down to, instead of another elevator, a set of heavy double doors. A table, crescent-shaped, the points angling towards the back wall, was centered in the round room. There were eight grooved chairs placed at even intervals, all facing a podium, which was set between the two points of the crescent.

  No one stood at the podium, and all but one of the seats was filled. He ceased gazing around in awe and stepped out of the elevator, which slid shut behind him. He moved up the ramp, still glancing around the room a little in spite of himself. He closed his eyes, pulling from his memory the appearance of the spire from the outside.

  No, this room is not at the apex of the spire, he thought. Maybe that’s where Citizen One stays. He looked again at the double doors, wondering what they concealed. A staircase, perhaps?

  As he approached the table he saw a few faces looking him over. A man in a black uniform that Michaels recognized, but had never met, as the High Inquisitor, Julian Wresh sat middle-right. Lined up in the next three seats over, Michaels noticed Herman Gottfried and two other people wearing Inquisitor black, a woman and a man. Adams and Levine are their names? he thought.

  Looking to the left half, he noticed the center chair was vacant. To the left of that, Dunlevy sat, smiling broadly at him with twinkling eyes. He resisted rolling his eyes, also seeing Claudia Laverock, a pretty woman in her mid-thirties. She had long brown hair knotted neatly in a bun; he had seen her on occasion but they rarely spoke. She headed up the Experimental Design branch of the Institute, the wing opposite of to the one that Dunlevy and Michaels shared. It was a place where practical devices were created for the purpose of doing harm and good on both large and small scale.

  The man next to her Michaels didn’t quite recognize but knew he had seen the face before. He was a large black man, bald, wearing an elegant pinstripe suit, and Michaels could see several heavy rings adorning his fingers, but he still could not quite place him.

  “Gregory, my boy! Welcome, welcome! Have a seat!” He motioned at the empty seat, center-left. Right next to the middle-aged Wresh, who, with his square-jaw, intense gaze, heavily pockmarked facial features, and short-cropped silver hair, gave Michaels a feeling of unease. The High Inquisitor had not turned towards him yet, conversing quietly with the other Inquisitors, who nodded or whispered responses.

  Trying to not appear intimidated, Michaels seated himself immediately with an air of confidence. No so
oner did he sit than Dunlevy pounded the table with his fist and clapped Michaels on the back with his other hand, violently lurching him forward and catching his breath in his throat. “Wonderful! Absolutely splendid!”

  Michaels dropped into a coughing fit. He grabbed the clear glass of water he now noticed was placed in front of each of them. He gulped it down, still hacking a little. Red-faced and breathing hard, he glared at Dunlevy.

  The plump man did not appear to take any notice, busily making introductions, “…believe you may know Citizen Laverock, yes? Our inventor extraordinaire?”

  “Claudia.” She said with a modest smile. Michaels leaned forward, stretching over Dunlevy awkwardly to shake her hand. She smirked him.

  “And that, over there, is the head the H.I.B.N.” Dunlevy turned back towards Michaels, looking down his short nose, “You know. The Haven Information Broadcasting Network.” He whispered.

  Michaels rolled his eyes at the patronizing as Dunlevy continued, “Dennis Myers, our speaker of… err… truths,” He put back on his broad smile as Myers looked over at Michaels with mild curiosity, holding an unlit cigar in one hand and sipping at his water with the other. Michaels gave him a curt nod, which was returned in kind.

  Having finished the brief introduction, Dunlevy began speaking to Claudia, telling her the latest sociological findings of both Citizens and survivors of Old Haven. Oddly enough, she appeared genuinely interested.

  Michaels turned, sat upright, and faced the podium. On his right, he noticed that Wresh was now facing him, openly staring with penetrating eyes, sizing him up. Michaels fidgeted under the scrutiny, eyes darting back to see if the man was still looking at him.

  Michaels finally clenched his jaw and turned towards him, offering his hand. “Gregory.”