Unbreakable

by Will McIntosh

  “What are you talking about?” Anand looked at the drawing. “I drew you.” He turned the pad around, showed her the drawing again. “That’s you. That’s what you look like.”

  Celia laughed. “Not even on my best day, well-fed and rested.”

  “Hey, Beaners.” Anand turned the drawing so the clown could see it. “Does that look like Celia?”

  Beaners, who was resting with his hands pillowing his cheek, peeled open one eye. “Why don’t you two just do it already? The foreplay is making me nauseous.”

  Celia gasped and covered her mouth.

  Anand leaped to his feet. “How about I break your arm?”

  Beaners sat up. “You think?” He reached behind his back and pulled a knife out of nowhere. It was silver, with a wide blade. A cake knife.

  “That knife’s about as sharp as a spoon.” Celia was still stinging with embarrassment, the muscles in her face stiff.

  “Oh, I think I can make it penetrate.”

  Anand took a step toward Beaners. “Why don’t you show me, funny man.”

  Beaners stood, his head drooping to one side as if he was more bored than alarmed at the prospect of fighting an enraged giant.

  His eyes suddenly widened. He stashed the knife back in his belt. “Engine. Big one.” He took off up the slope, tearing through brambles, his shoes kicking up dirt.

  Celia and Anand grabbed their packs and followed, the argument forgotten.

  A quarter mile on they reached the edge of the forest. A truly titanic vehicle stood idling in the weeds. It was dominated by a gigantic round tank, with a tube like an elephant’s trunk snaking out of the back. The thing was half the size of Telco Stadium.

  “Over here,” Beaners called from the vehicle.

  Celia and Anand stepped from the woods and approached cautiously. Beaners was in the cab, twenty feet above the ground. He was holding the cake knife to a woman’s throat. She stood perfectly still, the way you would if you’d stumbled onto a grizzly bear and were trying not to startle it.

  “Beaners, what are you doing?” Celia asked.

  “What?” Beaners pressed the knife deeper into the woman’s neck, making the woman gasp. “We need to get out of this place. She can take us.”

  “What are you hauling?” Anand called up. He made it sound like a casual question rather than a demand, as if the woman didn’t have a cake knife to her throat.

  “Trash.”

  Celia looked at the enormous sphere, which blotted out most of the sky overhead. A garbage truck.

  The poor woman was shaking visibly.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Celia said.

  “I’m just doing my job, going where they tell me to go.” The woman remained perfectly still, except for her mouth.

  Feeling like she was inviting herself into someone else’s home without permission, Celia climbed the ladder that led to the truck cab, which was a small room you could walk around in, the back wall flashing with electronic readouts next to a door leading to a bathroom.

  “Beaners, put away the knife. Where’s she going to go?”

  Beaners didn’t budge. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  Celia strained to take the edge out of her voice. “Please put the knife away.”

  Beaners sighed. “Fine.” He let the knife drop and turned away.

  “Look, we’re in a life or death situation here. Can you take us to civilization?”

  “Anything you want,” the woman said immediately.

  “Thanks.” Celia poked her head out the open side window and told Anand to climb up. She turned and offered the woman her hand. “I’m Celia, and this charming fellow is Beaners.”

  The woman’s hand was slick with sweat. “Lorena.” She was tall, brown hair, Latina. Not fat, but not slim, with a dusting of freckles across wide cheeks on a moon face. Kind looking. And scared to death.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Celia repeated.

  Lorena nodded. She busied herself getting the vehicle moving as Anand climbed aboard, ventured one glance toward Beaners, who was fingering the edge of the knife, his stubby fingertip poking through a hole in his filthy glove. Celia wanted to tell Lorena not to worry about Beaners, that he was harmless, but she didn’t want to lie.

  Soon the countryside was flying by. They were moving faster than any jeep, assuming Max was still hunting for them.

  Anand perched in a swivel passenger seat built into the floor. “Where do you live, Lorena?”

  “Dominion City.” Lorena gave him a sidelong glance. “How did you all get out?”

  “I’m from the audience, so I just walked away,” Anand said.

  “He’s not from the audience.” Lorena gestured to Beaners.

  “No, he’s not.” Anand sighed. “We’d rather not say how he and Celia got out.”

  “I understand. As far as I know, no one’s ever escaped before. It’s a secret worth keeping.”

  The truck climbed a rise, and suddenly they were on a wide orange road made of the same material as the rubbery walking paths that joined one town to another. Lorena picked up speed.

  “Where are we going, exactly?” Celia asked.

  “Dominion City. You said you wanted to go to civilization.”

  Celia had never heard of Dominion City. Of course based on movies, any little town or burb in the real world could be called a city. “Are we in the United States?”

  Lorena laughed. “No, sweetie, we’re not in the United States.”

  Celia got a sinking feeling that was becoming all too familiar. “Do you know what country we’re in?”

  “Dominion is its own place. That much I know.” The tension was leaving her voice, replaced by an easygoing chattiness.

  “Dominion?”

  Lorena nodded, her eyes on the road. “The island we’re on.” She glanced at Celia, who had made an involuntary gagging sound. “You didn’t know that, did you? That we’re on an island.”

  Celia looked at Anand, who was shaking his head, his hand over his eyes. They were on an island.

  “How far is the nearest land?” Celia asked.

  “I have no idea. Only the people in charge leave the island.”

  They cleared a rise, and suddenly there it was. Dominion City wasn’t as big as Chicago or as breathtaking as New Orleans, but it was a city, and there was no wall around it.

  “No one’s going to notice you—people come and go from Dominion all the time,” Lorena said. “Your friend is a problem, though. There are no creatures there, only people.”

  Beaners, who had been watching out the windshield, turned. “Did you just call me a creature?”

  Lorena stiffened. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

  “We’ll keep Beaners out of sight.” Anand looked at Celia. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Maybe we could stow away on a ship? Hide in a cargo box?”

  Lorena pulled the garbage truck into a lot alongside four identical vehicles. She turned to Celia. “My vehicle seats four, if you want a ride.”

  Celia looked out at Dominion City. Lorena was being surprisingly helpful for a hostage, but Celia wasn’t convinced it was genuine. Lorena might scream for help or make a run for it at the first opportunity.

  “That sounds great.” Celia hesitated. “I’m afraid we can’t just go our separate ways once we reach the city. We’ll need to keep you close until we decide what to do.”

  “Oh.” Lorena seemed disappointed more than scared. “I would take you to my apartment, but my husband is there.”

  Celia looked at Anand, who gave her a tight nod. Lorena’s apartment seemed as good a place as any to hole up. On their way out of town they could take Lorena and her husband with them for a day or so, then cut them loose to walk back.

  #

  When they reached Lorena’s building, Beaners stayed in the vehicle. Celia tried not to let her excitement show when she took her first elevator ride to the tenth floor.

  Lorena unlocked her apartment door and called in, “Sander, h
oney, I’m home early. I have some friends with me, and they’re pretty filthy, so don’t be surprised—”

  Celia almost choked at the sight of Sander.

  It was Paul Francis. Celia’s favorite actor. He’d starred in half a dozen movies, including one they’d looked at in the swamp.

  A tingle ran through Celia as she approached him, her hand outstretched. “I love all your movies. You live here?”

  Paul Francis frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re Paul Francis. I’ve seen your movies.”

  Paul exchanged a look with Lorena. “She’s one of those people. My name is Sander.” He grimaced at Celia. “I don’t think I look anything like Paul Francis.”

  “You look exactly like him.” Celia examined the narrow face, the long nostrils, the mop of russet hair that perpetually fell across his left eye, requiring the elegant, vision-clearing gesture that was his trademark. He was Paul Francis. What was Paul Francis doing on this godforsaken island? Celia pulled out her phone, brought up her favorite of his films—Running on Fire—and forwarded to the first scene.

  “Wait.” She forwarded to the next scene, then the next, a panic rising. “This isn’t right. That’s a different actor.” This actor had the same face, the same nose, but the mop of russet hair was too curly, and it fell over the wrong eye. To clear his vision, he tossed his head like a horse.

  “That’s Paul Francis.” Lorena tapped the image on Celia’s screen.

  “No, it’s not.” She held the phone up to Sander, but he swatted her hand away. “You do this thing with your hair,” she said, raking her fingers through a fantasy lock of russet hair.

  Lorena looked at Sander. “You do that a lot.”

  He glared, furious, and allowed the lock of hair to slide into his eyes. “No, I don’t.” He stalked away to rake his hair away from his eyes, muttering about scissors.

  Celia looked at her phone, at the stranger playing the lead in a movie whose dialogue she could recite from memory. “This is weird.”

  “It’s sort of like the picture on the wall, only—” Anand turned to stare off at the ceiling, thinking.

  “What?”

  Anand turned back to face her. “That painting isn’t really in the movie. It’s hiding something someone doesn’t want us to see. Just like they don’t want Sander to see himself in these movies, so they hide him behind someone else’s face.”

  Sander looked at Lorena. “Who is this lunatic?”

  “Their clown friend took me hostage.”

  Sander took out his phone, dialed a number. “Well, now the police can take them hostage.”

  “No!” Celia grabbed at the phone.

  Sander pulled it out of her reach.

  Anand lunged past Celia, drove Sander to the floor, knocked the phone aside, then clamped his hands around Sanders’ throat. “Stop struggling. Now.”

  Sander went limp. Anand eased up. “Celia, can you get Beaners in here before he goes on a joy ride?” He looked up at Lorena. “I’m sorry about this. Can we please have something to eat?”

  Without a word, Lorena went to the kitchen.

  Celia called up the scene in Running on Fire with the painting in it. She played it in slow motion. Anand watched over her shoulder as Sander composed himself, keeping a wary distance.

  “What could the picture possibly be hiding? What else hangs on a living room wall?” Celia asked.

  They watched the scene a dozen times, but still couldn’t imagine what was really on that wall.

  Chapter 14

  Celia tried calling Molly again, but the phone just rang. Lorena and Sander were huddled in the kitchen, heads down, speaking in low tones. Celia was afraid they might be plotting something, and was tempted to separate them, but she felt really damned uncomfortable playing prison guard. Sander looked up, saw Celia watching and quickly looked away, like a student caught cheating on a test.

  “I really want to get through this without any injuries,” Celia called over. “Please, work with me.”

  Sander raised a Be With You in a Moment finger. It was such a quintessential Paul Francis gesture that Celia laughed out loud. She waited, arms folded, until they finished and came to speak to Celia.

  “We have a proposition for you,” Sander said.

  “Okay,” Celia replied, a little uneasily.

  “How would your little troupe feel about adding two more?”

  Celia burst out laughing. If she had been given four hundred guesses on what Sander was going to ask, she still would have gotten it wrong.

  She looked at Anand, who was resting on the couch. He shrugged. “Why not.”

  “Okay.” Celia was ridiculously excited about the idea of having Paul Francis join them.

  “Oh sure, ask the other mark what he thinks, but not the clown. Who cares what the clown thinks.”

  Celia closed her eyes for a second, willing herself to be patient. “I’m sorry. Beaners, did you have an opinion on this?”

  Beaners folded his arms. “I couldn’t care less, but don’t act like I’m not standing here.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Celia wanted to tell him the only reason he was standing there was that they couldn’t get rid of him, but what would be the point? Hopefully they’d be off this island soon, then he was damned well going his own way.

  Again, she wondered what Beaners would do out there. He was going to have a hard time, looking like he did, and with that voice, to say nothing of his personality. As far as Celia knew there weren’t many circuses left. Circuses were passé, relics of another time. She almost felt sorry for Beaners. He didn’t fit anywhere.

  “I’m curious—why do you want to join us?” Celia asked. “If you wanted to run away, why haven’t you done it by now?”

  Lorena and Sander exchanged a glance. Lorena covered her eyes in embarrassment. “You got us. Okay, the truth: we figured if we get caught, we can claim you took us hostage. We have a built-in alibi.” She scrunched her face up. “I hope you’re not offended.”

  “Not at all,” Celia said. “If we’re caught, we’ll back your story.” She looked at Anand, who’d gotten up to join them. “Right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Right Beaners?” Since he had just complained about being excluded.

  “Whatever,” Beaners muttered.

  “That’s so kind of you.” Lorena beamed at Celia. “We also figured it didn’t hurt that Anand here knows how to handle himself.” She poked her elbow toward Anand, who avoided the nudge like a matador dodging a bull. At least it wasn’t just Celia he didn’t want touching him. “Sander and I aren’t exactly your adventurer types, so we figured it wouldn’t hurt to throw in with some street-wise people.”

  Celia thought it was pretty hilarious that she was considered one of the ‘street-wise’ people, given that she’d spent her life in cushy Record Village, but she didn’t argue.

  “While we’re clearing the air,” Celia turned to Sander. “Were you an actor?”

  Sander held up one hand, as if taking a pledge. “I have never acted in my entire life. Not even community theater.”

  “Then please believe me when I say this: you have an identical twin brother who’s an actor, and someone doesn’t want you to know it.”

  Lorena gasped. “What if we all have identical twins on the outside? Maybe we were all taken away before our mothers knew they were having twins.”

  It was a bizarre theory, but made as much sense as any other. “If it’s true, we’ll know soon enough.” It had to be soon.

  “So, I have a plan,” Sander said. “May I?”

  “Please,” Celia said.

  Sander flicked his hair out of his eyes. “I think I can get us inside the tunnel.”

  “How?” Celia asked.

  Sander smiled, making the dimple on his chin even more pronounced. “Blow a hole in it.”

  Chapter 15

  As the garbage truck roared past a Dougal’s on the edge of the city, the greasy aroma of breakfast biscu
its wafted in Celia’s open window. Celia was so stuffed, the smell was only mildly pleasant. The backpack she’d pilfered, wedged on the floor between her legs, was crammed with more food. They’d cleaned out Lorena and Sander’s pantry. They’d also raided their wardrobes. Celia had traded in the mud- and sweat-soaked outfit she’d gotten from the audience’s wardrobe room for jeans and a sweatshirt from Lorena’s closet. Anand was so tall he’d had to settle for sweatpants.

  The backpacks were going to be damned heavy if they couldn’t find a way to stow away on a train, once they were inside the tunnel. Thanks to Lorena, they knew it would be six miles to the coast from the tunnel entry point, but after that it could be a two-mile walk or two hundred under the water to the real world.

  Celia looked at Sander, who was sitting next to Lorena, and felt that bizarre thrill of being with a celebrity. It was ridiculous, of course, since Sander wasn’t a celebrity, but she couldn’t help it. He looked so much like Paul Francis.

  “Sander? Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

  “Anything, my dear.” His eyes were bright with excitement. Whether it was the thought of escaping Dominion Island, or just being on an adventure, Celia didn’t know.

  “Can you say, ‘Fair warning, everyone: I’m about to make a scene.’”

  Sander grinned, clearly aware it was a Paul Francis line. He raised a hand theatrically. “Fair warning, everyone: I’m about to make a scene.” He looked at Celia. “How was that?”

  Celia squealed with excitement “Perfect.” She looked at Anand. “It’s exactly like in the movie, isn’t it?”

  Anand smiled. “I don’t remember the lines. I only saw it once, and we were slogging through a swamp at the time.”

  “Do this one,” Celia said to Sander. “‘Hopefully this won’t be overly unpleasant for either of us.’”

  Sander spoke the line, followed by a dozen more, as they barreled toward the construction site. Celia didn’t know if Sander could see what a natural actor he was, but he was clearly enjoying himself as he humored Celia.

  They rolled to a stop a half mile from the construction site, and the mood shifted from silly to tensely serious.