Thursday Midnight

by Zachry Wheeler

  “Don’t make me go back,” he said with a faint voice. He tugged at her shirt with his eyes pinched shut. “Don’t make me go back.”

  “Shh shh shh. It’s okay.” She kissed the top of his head.

  The weeping faded, leaving Jonas limp and depleted in the arms of his devoted companion. His breathing returned to normal. Anna withdrew from the embrace and lowered herself to eye level. He opened a reddened gaze and linked it to hers, prompting Anna to smile and kiss his cheek.

  “I love you and support you no matter what,” she said. “You understand that, right?”

  Jonas nodded.

  She closed her hands around his. “Us before everything. If you need to retreat from the world, then I will follow you. You are my world and that’s the only world I need.”

  A smile crept up his cheek, which she returned.

  “Would you be okay for a moment? I would like to fetch something. Won’t take long.”

  Jonas nodded.

  Anna leaned him back and folded his hands in his lap, propping him up like a ragdoll. She squeezed his shoulders, then grabbed the beer bottle and slid it towards him like a nanny with a juice box. He grinned as she whisked away and descended to the lower level. A feeble hand reached for the bottle and plucked it from a streak of condensation. He took a sip while raking his gaze around the dining room, an unknown hole in an unknown land.

  Anna returned soon after with a leather-bound journal, the very same that Jonas had collected from the Ashen Eye after his chat with Elizabeth. While her death still haunted his mind, their brief yet potent conversation remained one of his most cherished memories. Jonas eyed the rustic tome as Anna settled into the chair beside him. She unhooked the strap and started flipping through a sheaf of coffee-stained pages. Her finger glided from top to bottom after each flip, scanning for a particular passage.

  “Ah, here it is,” she said, then cleared her throat before reading aloud.

  “I have lived through countless wars. Some from afar, others as a hapless participant. I have listened to firsthand accounts of the Mongolian Conquests. I have watched planes thunder overhead during each of the World Wars. I have seen more pain, death, and destruction than should ever besiege a human eye.

  “War solves everything in the short term, but nothing in the long term. Every regime will collapse. No war can prevent it. This is a hard-set rule of existence, yet people continue to fight as if it will be the last time they ever need to.

  “I have never swung a sword, released an arrow, or fired a gun. I intend to enter my grave without ever having slaughtered another being under the compulsion of a political authority. I like to think that I am a pacifist, but I also recognize that if my family were in danger, I would happily push a dagger through the eye of any threat.

  “Thus, I am forced to affirm an uncomfortable truth. War is as inevitable as collapse. We live in a world of connections, be them powerful regimes or family units. If those bonds become polluted, they must be mended or unraveled. Most are mended, but some are so corrosive as to warrant annihilation.

  “We must remember that war is a cyclical phenomenon. We cannot prevent it, but we can determine our roles within it and maximize the space in between. The end will always come and peace will always return. Thereupon, we have a choice. We can either regard our time on this planet as seeking the peace between war, or seeking the war between peace.”

  Anna closed the journal and turned to Jonas, who was staring into the void between worlds. His eyelids fell as his mind absorbed the account. He pictured Elizabeth with her flowing hair and haunting eyes, wearing the pain of battle while clinging to the promise of time. His lungs filled with air and released a cache of serenity.

  “Such a wonderful woman,” he said.

  “Yes she was,” Anna said with gentle voice.

  Jonas smiled, then met her gaze. “I wasn’t talking about her.”

  They locked hands atop the table.

  * * *

  Korovin stood at the windows inside his office, pulling his gaze through the streets below. Boots and heels tromped through a fresh layer of rainwater. He eyed pedestrians as they weaved through the gridlock, compelled by unknown motives. His mind concocted back-stories from clothes and belongings. Gleaming gowns conjured images of nightclubs and champagne, perhaps a life adrift in excess. Warm coats and earthy tones conjured images of dime mines and coffee shops, complete with local roots dragging behind.

  He sighed and turned away from the windows, content to pass the time in his favorite seat. His weary body plopped into the tattered office chair behind the desk, filling his mind with memories of a hectic life overseas. A small rip of fabric caught his thumbnail, which he proceeded to pick at while gazing around the room.

  Agent Jemison filled a guest chair across from him. She scrolled through a tablet with her legs crossed and posture slouched. The corner of her mouth puckered whenever she uncovered a post that showered her with praise. Headline after headline called for unity and support.

  A ping cut through the silence, hooking their attention. They traded nervous glances as Korovin reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. He unlocked the device and scanned the latest message. After a cogent pause, his lungs released a cache of pent-up anxiety and he fell back into his chair. He tossed the phone onto the desk, rubbed his neck, then met eyes with a waiting Jemison.

  “If you could buck the system and live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

  Jemison shrugged. “Jamaica?”

  Korovin nodded. “Good choice. Would the Yukon even crack the top ten?”

  She cringed in response.

  CHAPTER 12

  [Invaders Forum / tMV - 18.7M replies, 498.3M followers]

  [Post: Anonymous, 10.05.2580 AD, 444 EA]

  The matter of my identity has reached a fever pitch as of late. While I can understand the impulse, I will not bend to goading or irrational pressure. However, I can make you a promise. Should the opportunity arise to revamp the public mind, rest assured that I would take it.

  [End Post]

  Korovin, Jemison, and Razin sat around the table inside the blackout room. Razin typed notes into her tablet while Korovin and Jemison stared at the port device resting at the center. A muffle of static teased the air.

  “Where the hell is Carcross?” Cheryl said.

  “It’s a small town near the southern end of the territory,” Korovin said.

  “I wasn’t aware that eternals lived that far up.”

  “Moscow is only five degrees down latitude, so it’s not that much of a stretch.”

  “Hmm, good point.”

  “Carcross has a small population of off-gridders, remote workers and the like. Most homes are deep-denned and easy to come by due to their latitude. Jonas worked as a web apps developer during his transient years, so I imagine that’s his local guise.”

  “And the town?”

  “Basic. Handful of year-rounds, regional supplies only.”

  “Nearest outpost?”

  “Juneau, but the target is close enough to warrant direct acquisition. Current sunset is 16:30 and turnaround is three hours for a Raven.”

  “Why not use the outpost?”

  “Alaska bases are Black Hawk sites, so a pre-sunrise op is unfeasible. I have a pair of Ravens prepped for 17:00 out of Seattle. Assuming a clean rendezvous, we will have him on site by 21:00, well before deadline.”

  “Which gives us time to brief the press,” Jemison said.

  “Exactly. The sooner we inform the public, the better. I want the network to know that we have him. If the world rallies, that may stall whatever is afoot.”

  “If there is something afoot,” Razin said without looking up from her tablet.

  Korovin and Jemison traded annoyed glances.

  “Would you roll those dice?” Jemison said to Razin with a stern tone.

  Razin scoffed before turning to Jemison. “Not meaning to offend, dear. Just saying that all we have to go on is the basel
ess threat of an axe murderer. A human, I might add, whom we also have in custody.”

  “A baseless threat?” Jemison scrunched her brow with a mixture of spite and confusion. “Have you not been paying attention?”

  “What happens if nothing happens? We may amplify a fiction that we can’t undo. The press will push for answers, and fuck us all if the underground responds.”

  “We haven’t misled the public,” Korovin said. “We have only omitted sensitive information, which is perfectly within the bounds of security protocol.”

  Jemison glared at Razin. “He primed us like a goddamn grifter, Yulia. Over a hundred homicides dropped like a sack of fuck you. Call me crazy, but I think his words have earned some regard.”

  Razin shrugged and returned to her tablet.

  “That’s quite enough,” Cheryl said, regaining control of the conversation. “Mae, prepare a statement.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Jemison said.

  “And what of Jonas?”

  “We reached an accord,” Korovin said. “He will return for the duration of the investigation, so long as we station a security detail at his homestead. Given the predicament, I do not see it as an unreasonable request.”

  “Agreed. Assign a unit, no guards or officers.”

  “Already on it. AG4 will accompany me.”

  “Wait, you’re going?” Jemison said.

  “Yes,” Korovin said with a sharp nod. “Jonas knows me. Our previous dealings were cordial and tactful, so it would go a long way in diffusing any tension. An in-person would also reduce the need for concessions, should they arise.”

  “A fair assumption,” Cheryl said after a blunt pause. “I will relay this to HQ and keep you informed on any further requests. But as of now, consider the op approved.”

  “Spasibo, ma’am.”

  A hollow ping ended the feed.

  Razin rose from her chair and vacated the room without another word.

  Silence returned to the chamber, allowing Korovin and Jemison to collect their thoughts.

  “A hundred years from now,” Jemison said with a cagey tone, “history will remember your meeting with Jonas at the train station as the official bookend of humanity.”

  Korovin nodded. “Probably.”

  “So why go? Your presence may complicate things.”

  He smirked in response. “Oh, I won’t be going alone.”

  * * *

  Jonas and Anna scurried around the sub-level, prepping for their meeting with Korovin. Clanks and clatters echoed through the bedroom as Anna combed every square inch for anything of consequence. She carried an armful of crumpled papers from cubby to cubby, adding to them every so often. Pings and blips resonated from the computer den as Jonas scoured every machine for files that could link them to the expanded network. Their laser-like focus infected the home with a palpable tension, like a political campaign shredding every trace of wrongdoing. Jonas took to the frenzy like a duck to water, as he had spent most of his life locked inside a cage of heightened vigilance.

  Anna jogged into the den with a stack of papers, along with a few random scraps. “I think that’s everything,” she said while catching her breath.

  “You think, or you know?” Jonas said without breaking pace. His fingers hammered keys as hardened eyes scanned a jungle of code.

  Anna frowned and studied the mess in her hands.

  Jonas blinked out of his trance. “Sorry ... force of habit.” He paused for a break and spun to face her, adding a sigh of exertion. “I guess I should have warned you about this side of me.”

  She smiled. “No need to apologize, I knew it was there. Just odd to see you all hacker’d up.”

  Jonas returned the smile and motioned to join him. She stacked the contraband in a neat pile atop the console, then grabbed the back of her chair and took a seat. Jonas reached for her hands and placed a gentle kiss on top.

  “You retain the right to punch me if I get too fussy,” he said, drawing a snicker. “Right in the kisser, close-knuckled and full of rage.”

  “Noted,” she said with a smidge of sass. “Fussy is good, though. You are a ruthless pragmatist. And given your past, I would expect nothing different.”

  “The world got really small after sending that message. I haven’t had much time to think about it. Old voices popped into my head, shouting from nowhere, demanding this and that.” He sulked and bowed his head. “I guess that code is hard to delete.”

  She squeezed his hand and kissed his forehead. “I think it’s more of an asset than a hindrance. It’s why I trust your judgment.”

  “As long as I don’t hurt you in the process.”

  “You cannot offend me with any of this, so do not beat yourself up. You were a survivor then and you’re a survivor now. I was a ditzy cashier when we met, so I defer to your expertise.”

  “A cashier who moonlighted as a cognitive ninja.”

  Anna snorted and whipped a few karate chops.

  He snickered into a sigh. “Seriously, though. You have righted this ship more times than I can count. I couldn’t do this without you.”

  They shared a tender gaze, cradling each other with an unbreakable affinity.

  Anna patted his cheek and snapped back to work. She scooped the pile from the desk and dropped it into her lap. “Okay, so what of these?”

  A rush of compulsion erased his smile. His mind cycled through images of home, the snow-covered landscapes of a life spent in hiding. Shallow footprints snaked into caverns painted with blood. A rolling mist swirled around him as he wandered the streets of downtown Seattle. Lightning shred through the blackness, flashing clouds of ash hanging above the city. Silence returned with a deafening crash, wrapping him inside a cold and hollow void.

  “Burn it all,” he said, then turned back to the screen.

  Anna nodded and proceeded to the surface to make use of the fireplace.

  * * *

  Agent Jemison stood at the podium once again, prepped to address an empty briefing room with cameras zoomed to her profile. Her steeled gaze locked onto a blinking red icon above the main lens, ticking down the last ten seconds. She closed her eyes and took a measured breath before the icon turned green, denoting a live feed.

  “Good morning to you all,” she said.

  “As promised, I am here to relay an important update in regard to the investigation. Not long ago, we received word from Jonas with the assurance that he is alive and well. We appreciate his candor and I speak for many in that we can now breathe a collective sigh of relief.

  “In addition, Jonas has agreed to provide his assistance with the investigation. We are in the process of securing a covert transport that will protect his anonymity. Under no circumstance will we violate his confidence, both as a citizen and as a colleague.”

  She glanced down to the podium for a weighted pause. “This bears repeating, as many will undoubtedly press for a reveal. This man has offered us aid out of an incomparable sense of duty. In turn, NExUS will not violate his privacy. It will be his decision and his alone to offer a statement.”

  She gripped the podium with both hands and cocked her chin, elevating a sense of resolve. “I speak now to the filth that hides in the shadows. Our retribution will be swift and severe. Your actions have condemned you to a fate without contest or mercy. There will be no gallows, no proclamation, no pages of history stained by your atrocities. We bring you the barren desert of eradication.”

  Jemison released her grip and softened her posture. “To the rest of the world, your strength and unity have not gone unnoticed. NExUS will not submit to terrorism of any kind. We stand with you and guard the world we share. We vow to defend it today, tomorrow, and for all days to come.

  “That is all for now.”

  She nodded to the camera and stepped away from the podium.

  * * *

  An eerie stillness infected the sub-level, filling Jonas with a restlessness that he hadn’t felt in years. He lay in bed with the preposterous notion that
he would get some sleep before the agents arrived at his doorstep. Anna slept beside him, as she always did, bound by nature to consume the darkness. Jonas envied that ability, and the option to partake crossed his mind from time to time. But alas, the burden of mortality was his to bear until the world saw fit to accept it. He knew the likelihood, but persisted nonetheless.

  Sweat accumulated on his forehead as he stared at the ceiling. Once a black void, he could now study the texture under the red glow of his bedside lamp. His sleepless mind wandered the aisles of Doren’s stores, pondering how many red bulbs he had used during his time in the field. At least a half dozen, he estimated, maybe more. He never sprang for the more expensive versions, as his presence in the city was limited from day one. The bulb beside him, however, was a more deliberate purchase, made with the assumption that he would likely die within the walls it lit.

  It had taken years to reacquaint himself with the dark, and yet there he was, wide awake and wrestling the same anxieties from his downtown apartment. Faint noises long dismissed had gained new life within a shroud of paranoia. Pipe rattles and distant creaks flashed his mind with blood and mayhem. Every sound carried the threat of exposure. Every smell carried the warning of invasion.

  With several hours left before acquisition, Jonas decided to distract his mind with the strongest drug he knew. He climbed out of bed, donned a set of comfy undergarments, and made his way to the computer den. A brief rummage through a junk drawer uncovered a tin of breath mints. He plucked one of several icy blue pellets and tossed it into his mouth. Not that he needed one, as his recent loss of appetite had kept his funk in check. The mints were redesigns of the thermal pills he once used as a transient.

  Through a clever tweak of chemistry, the remnants had managed to replicate the compounds using a smattering of common pharma. In addition, the higher dosage and slower dissolve rate extended the effect, giving him upwards of 48 hours to roam without detection. The Zenit Tower still used default tech, so luck was on his side. Only the higher traffic areas like train stations remained off-limits.