by P. F. White
They had pulled it after two semesters. The auditor had called it a: “chilling plethora of human depravity and necessity when faced with the very worst of circumstances.”
Hank had always been a little proud of that description.
Adriana was a different beast entirely. She was beautiful for one: her long black Spanish hair accentuating her petite frame, and her bright eyes making all her smiles somewhat mischievous. Her family was deeply religious but she was not. They had abused her almost from the day she was born. She was supposed to spend six hours a day praying, three in the morning and three at night. They raised their own crops, shunned formal schooling and only taught her to read so that she could read the bible. She asked a lot of questions as a child and as such they claimed she scared away all the “good Christian boys”. They had also wanted her to join a nunnery when she came of age, as her four sisters had all done. Both her brothers now worked as missionaries in dangerous foreign lands, giving out bibles instead of medicine and informing starving children that a just God was only punishing them for the wickedness of their parents.
Adriana had had to mostly educate herself. While other children sneaked kisses in the orchard garden, or stole sweets from the kitchen: Adriana had secretly checked books out of the library. A kindly old librarian had been her partner in crime until the old woman had died of a heart attack at age eighty nine. Her parents had refused to let Adriana go to the funeral, saying that the librarian had been a godless heathen who was bound to burn in hell for her role in fostering Adriana's disobedience. Eventually, when Adriana had been accepted into a university she had applied for in secret, her parents had disowned her. She said she was well rid of them and hadn't even cried once when she left them. She did return once, years later, to speak to them in earnest about their faith and the troubles it had caused them all.
Adriana had no patience- or even kindness for such things as faith. She had an almost overwhelming disgust of those who used it as a shield to hide behind. She didn't even pity them, not anymore. To Adriana “God” was just another bit of fiction that kept humans back from truly being able to understand the world. Instead of the spiritual path she had dedicated her life to the study of obscure sciences. She specialized in the utilization of Game Theory in multi-disciplinary studies and mostly lived off of her many published papers on the subject. She also had three doctorates. That helped people take you seriously, she had found.
Claire spoke up after she was finally done thinking: “The building looks like it is thirty five stories tall, but that's actually just part of the illusion. Do you see the paneling of the windows? It's mirrored glass, but you can still get a good sense of scale by using that trash can there as a reference. Each panel is slightly over two stories tall, though the ones nearest the ground are smaller to hide the effect as your perspective angle increases. The entire building must be over seventy stories, but I'm guessing its actually closer to seventy five. I wonder how come you can't see its size from further out?”
Hank was still trying to see the trash can she had mentioned. His eyes were instead drawn to details like the fact that the cars that were in the lot looked abandoned, and not just recently either. He also didn't see a single power-line going anywhere near the complex...yet they clearly had power. He supposed it could be underground, as many were in Florida, but he had seen lots of lines going to the other buildings. It would be odd to have a separate underground grid just for this building, he thought.
Luckily Adriana had the answer to the size problem. She snapped her fingers as she realized it:
“We are slightly below the surrounding area, that's why,” she said, “I noticed as we were approaching that there is a slight decline here for awhile. You can see the water from where the mist condenses rolling downhill to grates around here. The incline is very slight, but I would guess that by now we are at least thirty feet below the highway out there so some of the buildings in the distance look bigger than this one.”
“Big building!” cooed the baby. Even though he was nearing his second birthday: he still hadn't been named. Hank claimed he was waiting for the right inspiration, but Adriana thought he was just scared. For all his learning: Hank could still be rather superstitious and had never quite gotten over what had went wrong with Claire and his ex-wife. She had always claimed that names had power, and furthermore that if he ever gave his name to another creature that she would know. Adriana scoffed at that but still, after all this time, the baby was still nameless.
“That's right,” said Claire as she leaned over to tickle the baby, “It's a very big building! The question- my little monkey, is why is it so big?”
“Big monkey!” giggled the boy.
Adriana looked outside fearfully.
“Do you think it will come back?” she asked softly. There was still broken glass everywhere, and a little blood, but she was more scared about what they couldn't see. The mist- or whatever it was- now almost completely blocked the sun. It seemed to be spreading quicker in the sky than over the land. She could see it already starting to spill over the concrete barriers that surrounded the parking lot. It almost seemed alive at times...no, she thought, you cannot begin to think that way. It simply isn't rational.
“I don't think there is any way to know that,” said Hank evenly. He patted his gun, “But I do know that we all did good back there regardless. Are you really okay?”
Adriana shook her head.
“I'm pretty sure I'm still in shock.”
“You're fine,” said Hank with a smile, “Trust me, I'm a doctor.”
Adriana giggled. He had studied medicine while in prison, actually, and only gotten his second degree in philosophy when he was free. Unsurprisingly: not a single institution would consider hiring him as a doctor, but he didn't seem to mind. He always said he didn't do it to help other people anyway. Hank was always quick with a joke, even if the humor was a little dark.
Adriana looked more at the building. They were about two hundred feet from the entrance and parked at the first available parking spot. It was a handicap spot, but right now Adriana just didn't care.
“Well...should we go in?” she asked.
Hank opened his door.
“Lets at least try.”
He hesitated a moment.
“Go ahead, I'm sure you have all kinds of things stored here just in case,” said Adriana. She smiled to reassure her husband that he wouldn't get in trouble this time. Finding a carefully wrapped machete, emergency medical kit, and a thousand dollars in cash secreted behind a panel in the bathroom was enough to cause trust issues in any marriage after all.
“Okay,” he said, his face serious, “This seems like the time for it. I want you to reach under your seat and unscrew a small hexagonal screw you find there. Take out what you find.”
Adriana reached beneath her seat to the small hidden compartment and found the screw. It was a little tight, but she had it off before too long and then began to remove a few objects. There was a seven inch buck knife, a small and compact medical kit, a compass, a snub nosed .38 revolver with a box of ammunition, and an extremely high voltage Taser with an extra battery. There were also a pair of heavy work gloves, a baklava face mask and a flask with what smelled like whiskey.
“Jesus dad,” said Claire as she looked on in amazement “you're sure you weren't the serial killer?”
“He wasn't a serial killer,” corrected Hank, “He was a mass murderer. He had pretty well documented grudges against all the men he killed, though the FBI took their sweet time figuring that out.”
He shook his head slightly, his eyes staring at nowhere for a moment.
“You know, what Mr. Henson did would have been considered reasonable- even laudable in a lot of other times and cultures. Murder as a result of infidelity has been a pretty consistent facet of human culture since monogamy became the norm. He was only unlucky in that he happened to live in one that didn't think highly of his retribution practice.”
Claire smile
d at her father, admiration and pride showing across her face.
“He was unlucky in another way too,” said Adriana as she leaned over to kiss her husband.
“Oh?”
They kissed.
“He messed with my man,” she growled in mock seriousness.
Hank laughed and kissed her back. The baby clapped his hands and Claire rolled her eyes and looked away. When they were done Adriana began handing out the weapons.
“Claire you get the Taser and the knife,” she said and handed them back. Claire rolled her eyes at that as well. She was a far better shot than Adriana but, well, she knew her step-mother had never trusted her as much as her father did. It came with the territory, she figured.
“I don't need to say 'be careful' do I?” said Hank with a smile and a wink. He still had a bit of blood- or whatever that black tarry stuff was- around his left eye.
Adriana checked the load on her weapon before she replied.
“Nope,” she said, “Your girls are both careful as can be, aren't they Claire?”
“No I'm super reckless,” said Claire in that particular teenage tone, “I'd probably shoot my foot off if you gave me a gun.”
“Good,” said Hank, “Cause I never liked your feet. Out with the old, right honey?”
“And in with the you,” replied Adriana. They both giggled at this and Hank leaned over to kiss his wife passionately.
“Jesus, get a room already!” said Claire as she got out of the car to escape her parents love fest. She unbuckled the baby and he grabbed on to her like a little koala bear. The parents paid her no mind.
“I knew I married the right woman,” said Hank when the kiss was ended, “Now lets go see if we can get some help. Or, you know, find some more monsters to shoot in the face.”
“Don't even joke about that,” replied Adriana.
They both exited the car and slammed the doors. There didn't seem to be any point in locking it so they didn't. Outside, the air was unusually cold and wet. There was even a trace of wind to it, but the fog hadn't lifted one bit from the breeze. It was getting darker by the minute. They headed towards the building.
Chapter Two:
Hank Fletcher led his family across the bare concrete courtyard that led towards the giant main entrance to the office building. The place had been designed bare, even spartan in its appearance. There were no benches, only two trashcans and simple green grass covering the areas left bare by the concrete. Even at this distance there was no indication of a corporate identity to the massive structure. No name plate could be seen, not even a logo. The concrete below their feet seemed at first to be unremarkable, but as Hank glanced downward he saw it was actually criss-crossed by tiny lines of bright silvery metal which appeared to be arranged in long flowing arcs like a spider's web. He didn't know what to make of it but, whatever it was, it appeared to be a relatively minor detail.
No one said anything as they walked. The air was far too cool for Florida and the mist could be nearly felt pressing in on all sides. There wasn't the slightest noise to break the silence. Even the sound of their own footsteps seemed dampened and dull. The glass doors ahead looked heavy, and there were two sets of them to presumably keep the air conditioning in. As Hank approached closer he was reminded a bit of an airlock. The doors were obviously reinforced and little bits of rubber around the edges made them airtight as well. There were no handles on them so obviously you either found a good place to push or else got out a rock and broke your way in...not that they looked particularly easy to break...
“It looks locked,” grumbled Claire as she turned to try and look in all other directions.
“Why do you say that?” asked Hank with a slight smile.
“Because that would suck,” replied Claire, “so obviously it's probably the case.”
Hank smiled broader and resisted a chuckle. His pessimism was evidently genetic.
“We could always shoot the doors open I guess,” said Adriana, only half joking.
Hank took another look at the doors. They were less than twenty feet away now and he could make out details he missed earlier.
“I doubt it,” he said, “The glass looks reinforced and it's not uncommon for buildings this close to the coast to have some serious hurricane proofing. Even if the bullets penetrated I doubt the grass would fragment enough for us to get in. They are probably designed to stay together no matter what.”
“We could ram it with the car,” suggested Claire with a look a little too close to excitement.
“Bam it!” said the baby as he clapped his hands in excitement. He didn't seem scared in the slightest. He looked at everything with the same blank look of utter delight and seemed to squirm to go investigate it closer.
When Hank went up to the door and gave the pane a push it didn't budge. It was just as he feared. He felt along it for a catch, or handle, or anything that might indicate a way in, but he didn't find any. The door did appear incredibly solid though, and the pane itself was nearly six inches thick. These doors were serious and whoever had built them wanted to make sure no one unexpected got through.
“I don't even know if the car could get through this,” Hank said as he shook his head. From off to one side there came a cheerful little beeping noise. Everyone looked around, but Adriana spotted the tiny wall-mounted communicator first. It looked like a little silver radio set into the side of the building by the door. It had a few buttons and what looked like a video screen. It beeped again.
“I guess we better get that,” said Adriana as she walked over to it. Everyone followed her and the baby tried to reach out and push the buttons. Claire thwarted him though, and he frowned as he tried to work out a way around his big sister's interference.
“The buttons aren't labeled,” said Adriana, “That's kinda weird isn't it?”
“Not really,” said a voice from the receiver. Everyone jumped as the screen suddenly came to life. A cheerful looking elderly man with a big white mustache and bald head appeared in the screen.
“Oh good,” said Claire, “It's the gate-keeper for the wizard of oz.”
“Nah,” said Hank, “That guy had a better uniform.”
The old man in the screen laughed at that. His uniform was rather bare actually: the same generic blue shirt and tie that was the security guard standard fare all over the country. He even had a shiny metal badge.
“Ain't no one sees the wizard!” said the old man in a funny voice, “Ain't no way, ain't no how!”
Then he began to laugh again. Surprisingly, for all its strangeness, the family joined him. The baby even clapped his hands. Nerves can make even the strangest bit of humor into comedy gold, thought Adriana to herself.
“So anyway,” said the old man after he had calmed down a bit, “what can I do for your fine folks today?”
“Well,” said Hank, sparing a glance at the approaching mist, “We ran into a bit...well a bit of car trouble I suppose you could say-”
“Big monkey!” called out the baby.
“Yes boy, big monkey,” said Hank with a smile. He didn't want to think about that now. “Anyway we were wondering if we could get inside to, well, weather the storm a bit.”
The man on the screen frowned.
“Or at least use the phone?” added Adriana helpfully.
The old man looked down at something and frowned more.
“I don't know about that,” he said sullenly. He looked up again and added: “Can I at least start with your name?”
Hank laughed nervously. The mist was already pooling around their car now. The entrance to the complex could only barely be made out.
“What do you need my name for? It's not like you are going to recognize it for-”
“So why not give it?” countered the old man, “What's the harm?”
Hank shrugged. It was a fair enough question he supposed.
“My name is Hank Fletcher. I teach Philosophy at-”
“No way!” said the old man suddenly brightening up, �
��And is that your wife- ah, Anita?”
Adriana looked slightly shocked.
“Adriana,” she clarified.
“Right, of course. Sorry. My nephew took your Ethics course about a year ago! He never stopped talking about how interesting you were and how- oh. Err...”
Hank smiled. He had heard this part before.
“Let me guess: how hot my wife was?” he said as he winked at his wife. Adriana blushed. It was no secret that, with her constant visits to her husbands work, and her likewise frequent interactions with his students: many of them had developed severe crushes on her. It also never ceased to be at least a little satisfying. Some small part of her liked showing her husband how desirable she was, or maybe it just liked how it would have made her parents feel.