Imprisoned

by J D Jacobs

I can’t believe what I just heard and how I just heard it. How dare Xander tell me all that information, knowing that I can’t answer back to him. Maybe that’s why he told me, so I wouldn’t bombard him with questions. Makes sense, but still, it’s annoying and it’s petty. But nevermind him. I’m not giving him anymore of my time right now. My focus is on the flashback I’m in and why he wants me to have it.

  First thing I notice is that I’m in an overly crowded room. The room has a constant commotion coming from the people in it: a combination of sadness and panicked fear. I’m in a hospital room, somewhat similar to the one I stay at in Tryton. This room, however, seems to be scattered with sick patients–about fifteen of them–along with what I assume are their family members that take up the rest of the room’s occupancy. A few of the patients are in beds, some have mattresses on the floor, and a few are unfortunate enough to only have a blanket and the cold tiles. Every single one of the patients, however, is handcuffed and has their feet tied together.

  I don’t think this hospital is treating their patients. I think this is practically the waiting room for their death. There must’ve been so many people sick that the best–and really only–thing that hospitals could offer was to allow the patient to die surrounded by family and without the violence that egotoning causes.

  But there has to be a reason Xander sent me here. I skim through the faces in the crowded room to see if any of them are familiar. It’s hard to do so because everybody in the hospital room is wearing a surgical mask. This must be early on since the Cozmin began spreading, because in the flashback I saw with Grant and Phil, they were wearing more advanced oxygen masks. Finally, I’m able to spot a short, fat man leaning over a railing of one of the few beds.

  “I’m so sorry,” I see Jenkins softly call out to the woman in the bed as his face is a flushed red. “Kim, I don’t want to do this to you.”

  “It’s fine, Harrison,” the woman says as she reaches up to run her fingers through Jenkins’s thin hair. Kim isn’t handcuffed yet, as the cuffs are held in Jenkins’s hands. Kim’s other hand is clutched to a young woman I can only assume is their daughter. “Put them on me.” Kim, despite literally being on her deathbed, seems very calm from the virus, which is an unusual reaction to the Cozmin. I heard Grant mention that people go through the process of egotoning in different ways, so I assume her way is a lot more peaceful and less painful than the others I’ve seen. However, when she passes in a few minutes and fully egotones, she’ll still be a psychotic maniac just like all those who have egotoned before her.

  Jenkins reluctantly clicks one of the cuffs on his wife’s wrist but can’t bring himself to lock the other one. “I love you, darling,” he proclaims as he pulls the cuffed hand up to his face and kisses the back of it through his mask.

  “And I love you, too. I love you two so much,” Kim weakly says, looking back and forth from Jenkins to their daughter. “You two are the best thing to ever happen to me. I thank God every day for blessing me with you two.” She turns her head to Jenkins and looks deep into his eyes. “Harrison, you’re the love of my life. You…” Her words fade and her eyes fall to the ceiling. Their daughter lets go of her mom’s hand and begins sobbing. Jenkins remains holding his wife’s hand, waiting for her to finish the statement that she never will. He knows what is about to happen, but I don’t think he cares.

  After a few waning seconds, Kim’s eyes instantly grow bloodshot and her lips tremble to form the words to finish her sentence.

  “…coward,” Kim slowly whispers as her eyes move back to Jenkins. She repeats the word over and over as her tone gradually intensifies. Of course, this isn’t Kim anymore. This is just another egotoned victim, at this point. Jenkins remains gazing in the woman’s rage-filled eyes as if they still belong to his wife.

  “Please, Kim,” tears drip down Jenkins’s mask as his forehead rests on his wife’s shoulder. “I don’t want to do this to you.”

  “COWARD! COWARD! YOU’RE A COWARD!” Kim has now gone completely demented, shaking violently and kicking her legs into her mattress, and I am reminded first-hand of the atrocity that is egotoning.

  As his wife bellows the same insult in his ear, Jenkins warily handcuffs her wrists together and between the bed railings. Kim doesn’t seem to grasp what her husband just did, but she continues yelling the same word in Jenkins’s face.

  “I love you, honey,” Jenkins ensures his wife as tears flow across his blushed face. He places both his palms on his wife’s cheeks and stares intently into her deranged eyes one last time.

  “COWARD!” his wife returns, no longer knowing who the man staring at her is anymore.

  Jenkins’s lips tremble as he kisses Kim’s nose. She attempts to resist and shake him off, but Jenkins, in his vulnerable state, tries his best to embrace the last moments he has to share with his wife.

  I watch as Jenkins’s daughter pulls Jenkins off as a couple of nurses approach Kim. They inject a needle in her arm and, almost instantly, Kim falls silent. One of the nurses then turns to Jenkins and asks for the key to the handcuffs.

  “She only wanted me to do it so she wouldn’t hurt us,” Jenkins innocently informs the nurse as he digs through his pocket. He finally finds the key and hands it over to the nurse who seems uninterested in what Jenkins is saying. The nurse must have witnessed hundreds of deaths by now. “Sh-she told me she loved me and that…” Jenkins can’t finish his sentence and buries his face in his daughter’s shoulder, who seems more traumatized from the event than she does upset. The two nurses unlock the handcuffs and carry Kim’s body out from the hospital room as Jenkins and his daughter sit on the floor until the next victim comes to take his wife’s place in that coveted bed.

  My vision spirals, and my eyes fall back to black.

  “Jaden, are you okay?”

  The muffled voice of Jenkins hovers above me. I’ve rolled on the floor, and both Cody and Jenkins are now looking at me with their concealing masks.

  I can’t muster the strength to answer him.

  12.

  We’ve been sitting in silence since the flashback. I pretended, yet again, that my flashback was instead another anxiety attack that caused me to pass out. Apparently I was saying Jenkins’s name while I was out, but I blamed that on the amount of stress that Jenkins has put on me recently. I think Jenkins remorsefully believed me, but I don’t think I convinced Cody enough. Since then, nobody in the helicopter has had much to say to each other. Cody did ask Jenkins how he knows we’re headed in the right direction, but Jenkins gave him a “trust Stewart and I.” It took me a minute after he said that to realize that Stewart is the name of the pilot.

  I’ve been gazing out the window of the helicopter, looking out into the bleakness below me. Desolate and dead, the trees and grass the only things with any form of life, and even they have been overgrown to the point of drowning in their own growth. Maybe there is additional life outside these two cities that we don’t know of. I wonder if there are any deranged dogs like the ones that attacked me in Westwood. I wonder if there are any rats like Scar and Scat. Those rats were the only thing that made me happy when I was in Westwood. I wonder if they’ve died on that roof yet. Maybe they found a way to get down. Either way, I miss them.

  I’m such a long way from home.

  We’ve been flying for hours when I hear Stewart call out for our attention. We all three nearly tumble out of our seats to get a look out the window. I can’t really see anything out my window, but Cody obviously can, because he’s been gasping a low “wow” for the last thirty seconds. We finally stop moving forward and begin descending, and I take that as my cue to look out on Cody’s side instead.

  I was expecting another giant wall similar to the two I’ve already seen, but Avvil has used a much more vibrant and, dare I say, groundbreaking way to shield off from the virus.

  The city itself is underground, constructed in a man-made canyon that stretches about three-fourths of the length of the Tryton cube. From my vantage point
, I see many buildings, both large and small, hidden in the depths below us. However, to separate the underground city from the virus, a large ceiling of glass, coated in an amber coloring, extends above the city. The glass takes the form of the ground it replaced, running smoothly from the edge of the grass it’s separated from and forming beautiful, amber hills along the surface of the structure.

  I’ve never seen anything so magnificent. The three of us are speechless, too busy soaking in the exceptional glass architecture.

  The helicopter has almost reached the ground. On the ground, there’s an extended cylindrical amber tube a few dozen yards away from our landing spot with a woman propped up against it. I’m guessing that the woman is going to lead us in the city through the tube. Just a shot in the dark.

  As the helicopter’s landing struts touch down on the grass, Cody eagerly swings the doors open and hops out. “This place is insane! Look at this glass!” He falls to his knees and knocks on the amber glass beneath him.

  “Get up,” Jenkins orders as he steps on the glass. He then looks over to the young woman wearing a thin surgical mask and leaning on the tube. “I’m guessing you’re Jeanette?”

  “Yes, sir,” she says with her hand clasping her mask as she talks. She extends her other hand toward Jenkins. “And you must be Harrison, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you. Our bags are in the helicopter, hopefully they won’t be too much of a hassle.”

  The woman then heads over and lugs our suitcases and the large plastic bin out of the helicopter. I tell the woman I can carry my bag, but she insists she take it and thanks me for the thought.

  Stewart turns off the helicopter and catches up with everyone else before I exit. I wish I wasn’t as uptight as I am, but I suppose there’s no preventing it now. I step out of the helicopter, feeling the wind from the dying blades crash on top of the thick helmet I have on.

  I meet the rest of the crew at the cylindrical tube. “You guys ready?” the fatter suit, who I can only assume is Jenkins, asks us. “Jeanette, this elevator will take us in the city, correct?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Harrison,” she says as she drags the bin and suitcases to the tube. “There are people waiting for your arrival once we get in the city. Mr. Ricardo will meet you once we arrive.”

  “Perfect,” says Jenkins. Jeanette presses the only button on the outside of the large tube, and after a few seconds, an elevator cab zooms up and stops right at the door of the tube. All five of us are able to comfortably fit into it with our luggage, and the door slides shut behind us.

  It’s a marvelous sight once we start sinking into the city. The limits of Avvil stretch out further than I had expected, with large concrete slabs being used on the outskirts to keep the dirt from caving in. The amber glass above shines a similar tone to the scenery underneath, and I’m given a slight constant feel like I’m in a sepia flashback. The buildings inside have a natural and cozy outlook to them, much different from the tall skyscrapers in Tryton. Avvil looks more like a town rather than a city. Reminds me of Westwood.

  The nerves reach my stomach again as I look out into the city and think of all the people living in these buildings. I inadvertently groan out of discomfort, and Cody places a hand on my shoulder to try and calm me down. “You alright?”

  “It’s too late if I’m not.”

  The elevator cab is entirely made of glass, so I’m able to look out from all sides, including straight below me and down the elevator shaft. As we get closer to the ground, I see a small group waiting for us at the base of the elevator. I expected there to be a much bigger crowd of people to welcome us, but I’m actually very relieved, since my last experience with a welcoming city staring at me didn’t go so well.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Jeanette exclaims, discomfort in her voice as she rubs her head. “I have to fill the cab with a spray that will wash the Cozmin off of us. Although you all are wearing masks, please make sure your mouths are closed.” She looks behind her and presses a button. “You will be able to breathe fine through your nose.”

  The cab begins filling up with a dense fog. The fog is very cold and leaves small, dewy droplets on all of our suits. The fog doesn’t linger long, and it evaporates before the cab comes to a stop.

  Once we finally reach the bottom and the door slides open, the small crowd all clap at us for accomplishing the difficult task of riding an elevator. A Hispanic man steps out from the crowd and opens his arms at us as a greeting. This man is wearing a maroon Polo shirt with the tatted sleeve on his left arm exposed.

  “¡Hola, mis salvadores, y bienvenidos a Avvil!” the man loudly welcomes us. I look around to the rest of my masked crew, and I can tell they’re just as lost as I am. The man senses our hidden confusion and speaks up. “My apologies. Welcome to Avvil! Please, take your costumes off, the air is safe here.”

  I instantly take my helmet off, mainly because my mask isn’t hooked up to the tanks on my back and I’m also the only one with absolutely no skepticism about the air. Even if he said the air is 100% filled with Cozmin, I still would’ve thrown my helmet off. The Hispanic man steps toward me, staring at my scarred cheek. “You must be Jaden Foxx, the kid I’ve heard so much about! My name is Miguel Ricardo. Honored to welcome you to our city!” I shake the man’s extended hand, and he shifts his eyes to Jenkins, who has finally taken his helmet off.

  “Ahh, Harrison! A pleasure to finally meet you!” The two men embrace each other like old high school friends who are finally reconnecting.

  “Same to you,” Jenkins agrees. “I speak for the rest of my crew when I say we are excited about the beginning of this chapter. Which reminds me, let me introduce you to Stewart Plunket and Cody Goodwin.”

  As Cody and Stewart take their helmets off, Ricardo looks over to the both of them. “This is a surprise,” he tells Jenkins. “I was told there would only be three people. Which one of these two is the odd man out?”

  “I’m sorry,” Cody begins. “I was a last minute addition. I wasn’t supposed to come, but this morning–”

  “Uhp, uhp, uhp,” Ricardo interrupts him. “No explanation needed. Pleased to meet you, Cody. As to you, as well, Captain Plunket, is it?”

  “Please, call me Stewart.”

  “Well, I hope you all’s stay in Avvil is satisfactory, to say the least!” He turns sideways and lifts his hand to the six people behind him. “Let me introduce you to my people: first, the young girl in the wheelchair and the boy behind her are my children, Camila and Isaac.”

  Something is definitely off with this introduction. Camila looks about fourteen and her brother must be around seven. However, they’re both black; both with a dark-shaded skin that doesn’t match Ricardo’s. Latin heritage is not predominantly strong in their genes, which makes Ricardo an extremely unlikely fit to be their actual father. Of course, I’m sure there is a heartwarming story behind it that I’m not aware of. Perhaps their parents died and Ricardo took them in as his own. Perhaps Ricardo had kids and these were his kids’ friends. Perhaps Ricardo adopted them before the Cozmin took over.

  Nevertheless, Ricardo beckons for his kids to meet us, and the little boy pushes his sister over to us. I squat down to meet Camila face-to-face. “Hey there, Camila! Isaac! I’m Jaden, nice to meet you two!”

  “I wish I could lie to your face and say the same, but you barely have a face for me to lie to,” Camila fires at me as she studies her fingernails, uninterested in me. “I loved your work as the side villain in that Batman movie. Your two faces are a lot uglier in person, though.” Damn, that attitude came out of nowhere. She even used my favorite movie to insult me. My cheerful smile dissolves, and the group has gone silent, except for Cody, who is snickering behind me. “And what are you laughing at?” Camila now jabs at Cody. “You look like you’re auditioning for Gerald off of Hey Arnold. Sorry you never got called up from the junior-high basketball team.”

  “That’s enough, Camila,” Ricardo angrily tells her as he pops her on the ba
ck of the head. “That’s no way to treat our guests.” The smirk on Camila’s face shows that she doesn’t seem to be bothered by her father’s discipline, but she still turns as quiet as her little brother has been the whole time.

  “Over here are our top two virologists in Avvil, Reggie Welmington and Lucas Lowery,” Ricardo moves on down the line to a tall, lanky guy and a stocky guy with a red beard. “These two lead our group of scientists that study the Cozmin disease in our research lab.”

  The tall, lanky guy steps toward me and shakes my hand. “Good to meet ya, kid, really is!” he says, his words rapidly tripping over each other. “I’m Reginald, but please call me Reggie! I’ve been called that my whole life, so call me that! I know almost all there is to know about the Cozmin, I do; been studying it since I first heard of the virus and moved to Avvil.” I’m not sure if the man is just nervous and has jitters or if he is normally a fast talker, but either way, it’s a bit unorthodox.

  “Everything, huh?” Cody asks as Reggie steps up to shake his hand. “You know how to stop it then?” I see Jenkins glare at Cody, but Cody doesn’t notice it.

  “Of course not. If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation under a glass roof!” Reggie then gives a short laugh that sounds more like a wheeze.

  The stockier guy with the beard steps up to us and shakes our hands. “Name is Lucas Lowery,” he tells us, much more dignified than Reggie. “It’s an honor to meet you all. I’m glad we could have our two cities coincide with each other. It’s important to maintain civilization and relations with each other, even in a time of crisis like this.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Jenkins says as it’s now his turn to shake Lucas’s hand.

  “If you guys get a chance today, come visit the research lab. Our team and I would love to have you guys visit.”

  “Absolutely! We have studies we’ve concluded, experiments that are still taking place at this very moment, all sorts of helpful information that Tryton can find useful,” Reggie pieces in. “If we fight against the Cozmin together, we can make great progress.”