“What took you so long?” he asked, irritably out of breath.
“I wasn’t sure if…” she began to say.
But her eyes fell upon the horror of John, nearly limp and dripping with blood from his head. Sofia instinctively let the black box drop from her hands. Falling to her knees beside him, she took hold of her dear friend.
“Oh, John,” she cried, looking franticly to the old man. “What happened to him? What are we going to do?”
“We haven’t much time,” Mr. Sanders said, trying to catch his breath. “They’re right behind us.”
Gesturing with his hands to Sofia, he continued, “Quickly, pick up the box and help me move him to the fire escape. We need to get to a transporter and get out of here!”
Chapter Seven
With the virtual dead weight of John upon their shoulders, Sofia and Mr. Sanders stumbled awkwardly down the hall. With one of his arms dangling around each of their necks, the two of them were able to assist him by taking up just enough of John’s body mass so as to allow him to keep up a steady motion. The fire escape ahead was their only hope for making a getaway. They determined to press forward, knowing that there was not much time before the Monster would be catching up.
The screaming of the alarm tore through the hallway, drowning out all the ambient sounds of the City outside as they opened the apartment’s emergency retreat. Sofia’s eyes dripped with tears as the shrill sound cut into her ears, creating a tension throughout the muscles of her skull that throbbed and burned. Easing John through the threshold, she and Mr. Sanders worked together to make the transition as smooth as possible despite their worn and weak legs. As they proceeded to descend the skeletal frame of the fire escape, maintaining their balance with each step required an intensely focused concentration on their part.
Spotting a single, white vehicle parked at the end of the alleyway below, Mr. Sanders, wheezing and coughing, motioned with his eyes to Sofia that reaching it was now their primary objective.
“That one over there,” he yelled, his voice barely audible above the wailing alarms. “Come on, we can do it. Just a little further.”
Sofia’s spirit was beginning to feel the crushing blow of defeat. The numbness of her torso and extremities were assaulting her from every angle. Although she wanted to give in to the desire of her body, which pressed her to lie down and give up, she turned her back to such foolishness, closing the thought behind her veiling curtain of devotion to John.
Afraid to look back for fear that the Monster would be standing directly behind her, Sofia kept telling herself that everything would soon be over. The several flights of stairs from which they had already descended were an incredibly conquered feat. The final stretch was now before them.
By the heavy perspiration dripping from Mr. Sanders’ forehead and chin, the moist stains on the armpits of his shirt and the gasping breaths, Sofia was certain that he was as equally burdened as she. But with the hardship of her current discomfort, she continued to hold on to the hope that there could, perhaps, come some good from all of it.
Upon reaching the bottom plank, the three of them stepped onto the asphalt. John’s legs buckled under the strain, causing him to collapse to the ground, inadvertently bringing Sofia and Mr. Sanders to the pavement with him. Lifting her head to the shadowy alley, poorly illuminated by the dim glow of orange colored, overhead lamps, Sofia’s mind was spinning and reeling from the exhausting experience that she had endured just moments earlier.
Pulling herself alongside John, she raised up to a sitting position. Leaning back against a rusty, garbage dumpster. It took a few seconds, but she was able to reorient herself to their current position. The transporter was a mere stones throw away. Feeling physically and emotionally overwhelmed, she knew that, without John’s help, dragging him that final distance would be more than she and the old man would be able to accomplish.
“John, we need to keep moving,” Sofia pleaded. “We’re too close to give up now.”
Grabbing onto the side of the dumpster, Mr. Sanders pulled himself up to his feet, dusting off his shirt. Scooping up the black box that had slipped out of Sofia’s arms during the fall, he began to push ahead, leaving the two of them behind.
“Wait,” Sofia called out. “Where are you going?”
“I’m getting the transporter for us. Just stay there,” he yelled without looking back, painfully limping and audibly wheezing and hacking.
With his hand cool and dry upon her knee, Sofia wiped the red smears from John’s cheeks and lips with the sleeve of her shirt. The rise and fall of his chest was slow and deep. His eyes were half open, but he was, to her consoling, making eye contact with her, although he was not talking. As she ran her fingers through the blood soaked hair that covered his forehead she said, “I can’t believe we’re doing this. I just want us to be together, always.”
Her voice was completely inaudible due to the high-pitched wail around them, but the communication of the message was all too apparent as a smile formed at the corners of John’s mouth. She could see by his demeanor that he understood every word that she said. As the muscles of his forehead and cheeks relaxed, his eyelids fell shut. Having always been of a strong spirit, she knew that these wounds would not be the death of him.
A soft thunder, like a distant storm, appeared to be fast approaching. Its sound was rather course and artificial as it mingled with the fire alarm. Sofia’s mind was too caught up in the moment. The rainwater could shower upon them from off the overhanging rooftop without any notice.
The chaotic clamor stifling the usual noise of the City around them was like being in an enclosed structure. It was providing Sofia with an imaginary sphere of safety. She was unaware that the rumble of the vehicle that had driven up alongside her and John was the source of the new disturbance and not some distant formation of clouds unseen. Nor did she hear the driver’s side door open, from which appeared Mr. Sanders who had opened the rear passenger door as well. He was already leaning over John, awaiting her assistance with getting him into the transporter.
As she began to return to her senses, Sofia felt an unnerving feeling come over her, as she could hardly believe that she could be so captivated by the images formed by her own imagination that so little care of the present world could be noticeable. The voice of Mr. Sanders, struggling, and in need of help, was bringing her back into the present reality, and, along with it, the urgency to move!
Grabbing John under the armpits, Mr. Sanders had made an attempt with all of his strength to pull him towards the backseat of the vehicle, but he was too exhausted to complete the task alone. “Take his back and help me lift him up,” he yelled, shifting his body around and wrapping his arms about John’s legs.
Sofia took the old man’s former place, slipping her arms under John’s shoulders. Hoisting his limp body up to his knees, the two of them dragged him beside the opened, rear door. With a single motion, they simultaneously pushed and pulled, but the backward motion was unmanageably unsustainable and Sofia stumbled into the backseat with John’s upper body lying dead weight upon her. Leaving the young man’s legs drooping on the ground outside, Mr. Sanders ran around to the opposite side of the transporter. Opening the door, he took hold of John’s shirt, making one final attempt to achieve his goal. The body moved with ease, and he was relieved to see the ordeal coming to a closure. As he completed the task of dragging him entirely within the vehicle’s confines, he could see that his little couple was safe and secure.
Closing the doors behind them, Mr. Sanders missed the shoe that had slipped from John’s foot during the scuffle. It had landed upon the pavement and was kicked around as they struggled with John’s body. Eventually it found its way under the cover of the wheeled machine, out of sight and out of mind.
The old man sat down in the driver’s seat. Depressing the accelerator with his foot, they were at last set in motion. He did not bother turning the lights on just yet, so as not to be seen from above. But instead he chose to driv
e, hidden among the shadows of the alley in order to keep out of sight should the Monster, or anyone else for that matter, catch a glimpse of them making their escape. The alarm was sufficient enough for their purpose. It would definitely hide the noise of the transporter. Everything else was clean. Their tracks were concealed for now.
“Sit on the floor,” Mr. Sanders directed Sofia, as he pulled a safety harness over his shoulders. “We don’t want to be seen together.”
Squeezing her body down onto the cold, rubber-matted space behind the front passenger seat, there was a sense of comfort being so enclosed and encapsulated from the outside world. The rumbling of the motor, the sensation of movement, these gave the affirmation to her that they were leaving the apartment behind and were now moving ahead into the uncharted territory of absolute non-conformity to their culture and all its laws.
With the temptation looming over her, Sofia took one last glance out the back window at the emergency stairwell high above. It was from there, the lofty structure that they had just descended, that he became visible, obscure in the dimness, but observable none-the-less: that evil man from whom they were running.
The Monster was rushing down the initial flurry of steps on the winding labyrinth of the fire escape, moving with speed and determination. Shrinking back down to the floor, Sofia tried to convince herself that it was too far for him to see them. Repeating over and over in her mind that they were safe, she mentally replayed the image of his descent. She was looking for any clues that could reassure her that he had not seen them fleeing in the transporter. But after a moment’s attempt, whether he had seen them or not, it did not matter. The fear began to crawl in. Sofia could not imagine how they could ever escape from their current predicament.
As they reached the long end of the alley, the screeching of the alarm began to fade away. Looking into the rearview mirror, Mr. Sanders could barely make out a figure, a person perhaps, standing at the approximate area of the rusty dumpster. It appeared to be picking something up from off the ground. Seeing the black box on the front seat beside him was a relief, as he knew that they had left no evidence behind as to how they had escaped, and to which direction they were headed.
Mr. Sanders’ forehead was decorated with beads of cool sweat that seemed to melt down his face and spread into a thin film that made his neck reflective and shimmering. His shirt was darkened at the collar from the moisture, and his eyes were pacing back and forth as the transporter exited the alleyway, turning onto the bustling streets of Labor.
Never-ending crowds of people moved along the sidewalks like a gentle, meandering stream, completely oblivious to the occupants of their automobile. Slowly, but steadily, their machine merged with the traffic. The apartment was now far behind, and there were no signs, as of yet, that the Security Forces were on the prowl.
From Sofia’s vantage point on the floor, she was able to lay back and look upward at the progressively decreasing heights of the buildings. At this distance from the Inner Square, the buildings were still too high to see the overhanging rooftops. But on account of her rooftop escapades with John, she was able to tell by the various designs of the pipes and cables that were strung between them that the structures were decreasing in size. It appeared that they were heading towards Main Street, the only road in the City that led directly to the Highway.
Recognizing many of the generic store names and street signs that were passing by at a consistent pace, it was easy to create a mental map of the order of their path. If they were, somehow, able to leave the city and actually obtain access to the Highway, Sofia had no idea how, exactly, they were going to succeed in getting through the surrounding walls to make their escape to the woods. It was all in the hands of Providence, now. There was no way to douse the fires they had started.
The drive felt slow and dully mundane as the transporter crept along with the traffic. Sofia had never paid any attention to the multitude of crated products that left the city on the larger transporters. With so much time on her hands, she read to herself the stenciling on the sides of the various units that passed by: Golden World Crystals, Red M-15, Golden World Dresses, Raw Uniform: Women, Golden World Men’s Garments, Red Uniform: Men, Golden World Automobiles, Golden World Deluxe, Raw Mining, Red Uniform: Women, Golden World Appliance, etcetera.
The names of Golden World, Red and Raw were such a common site throughout her entire life that she had never given her mind over to the thought of what exactly they were. Although a curious itching was growing within her as to what items were to be found inside the crates, she knew there was really no way to gain access to them from her current place. So, continuing on with her time-wasting activity, she read off in her head the next title that appeared.
Chapter Eight
It had taken a few hours, but Sofia was certain that they were finally within a few blocks from the first critical destination point, as the overhanging rooftops were now coming into view. The lights at the center of the City, brighter and more distinct than those of the rest of Labor, once in her line of sight, would be the landmarks by which she could determine that they were halfway to the red, brick Gate. Mr. Sanders had not spoken to her since their retreat from the apartment, and she was startled to find his face looking down upon her.
Leaning his head back over the seat, he spoke to her in a reassuring voice, “We’re almost there. Just be calm and stay down, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Sofia acknowledged.
Unsure of where exactly they were headed to, or what they would do if they ever made it there, Sofia rolled onto her side, reaching her arm up to John. She felt around until her hand had settled upon his, and closed her eyes.
Among the thousands of transporting vehicles that traveled the streets of Labor, Mr. Sanders felt certain that nobody would be able to follow them. And, even if the Security Forces had been notified, they would be hard pressed to find them within the densely populated City. As long as they could get through the checkpoint, he thought, Sofia and John would be free.
The time was moving by at an abnormally fast rate where minutes felt like seconds, and the hours were like minutes. They seemed to be rapidly approaching the Highway Security Gate, yet they were barely crawling along upon the heavily impacted road. To Mr. Sanders, it only seemed like a short moment ago that they had left the apartment, when in fact, it had been several hours since they departed. The flashing red lights mounted on the automated rails could be seen in the distance. Swipe the hand and look into the scanner. That’s all it would take and they’d be on their way, he thought.
“Please, let these children live,” he mumbled under his breath. “They’re so innocent. Please, help them.”
As the day was wearing on, curiosity got the best of Sofia. Peering over the front seat and out the window, she was able to see the lines of vehicles slowly approaching the Gate. Some were filled with multiple crates with only a single operator, while others were strictly designed as people movers and were full of workers heading towards the Red Plant. All of them were waiting to pass through one of the several stalls that separated the City proper from the Highway. Making her observation as brief as she could, her curiosity was relieved, and she let her body fall back onto the floor
They were now at an uncomfortably rhythmic, stop-and-go pace, as each of the transporters had to come to a complete halt in order to let the drivers scan their vehicles out of the City. The lights of the Gate were beginning to illuminate the interior of their vehicle. They were unnatural and unsatisfying, unlike the Savior’s light. Sofia covered her face, as the rays streaming through the windows seemed like the eyes of the masters of Labor watching over them.
In her mind everything was now a frightful mystery. She had never been outside of the City, had never experienced the drive of the Highway. She had never been so scared. As the vehicle pulled alongside the scanner, Sofia’s hair feathered back from the breeze that followed the opening of Mr. Sanders’ window.
The same eerie, red glow that filled the Forb
idden Room was now flooding the interior of the transporter. With a glance towards John, his eyes closed and resting soundly, she wondered if in his dreams the world had suddenly been bathed in the same crimson hue that had settled upon his face.
For a moment there was no movement from the front seat as a mechanical hum from the scanner wafted through the air. The Gate did not immediately grant permission to enter into its world. As it appeared to be taking more time than reasonably necessary, Sofia began to wonder if they were about to be caught. Were they being purposely held back from the Highway? Was the arrival of the Security an immanent event? The anxiety that gripped her was bringing with it that awful, cold sweat, as she felt compelled to lift herself up to see what was restraining them.
Grasping at the vinyl seat, the cool moisture of her palm made it slippery and wet, too difficult to get a firm grip on. Instead, pulling herself up by John’s shirt, she was able to adjust her body to a more plausible position from which to see.
As she was about to peer over Mr. Sanders’ shoulder, there was a sudden change in the illuminated features of the transporter’s interior. From the blood-red tones grew the sickly green coloring. The rumbling motors of the gate began to grind. The security rail was lifting! With the vehicle lunging forward, Sofia fell back to the floor with a mild thump of her head on the side door. The craziness of the day’s events was taking hold. As the fearful anxiety began to morph into an anxiety of wonder, Sofia’s whole view of the world she once thought she knew was now taking on a whole new perspective.
The sensation of the rapidly accelerating speed with which all transporters traveled along the Highway was a novel feeling. A strange tickling in Sofia’s stomach was just one of the events of the moment that was assisting in building up the excitement inside of her. Where they were headed was one of the many pieces of data that she still had not been given. But she figured Mr. Sanders’ plan up to this point had been skillfully executed. He seemed to know what he was doing.
The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey Page 5