Imprisoned

by J D Jacobs

  From the crowd I see Ricardo, carrying a young teenage girl in one arm and holding the hand of a young boy in his other. Unlike Camila and Isaac, I can tell that these kids are actually Ricardo’s biological kids. The boy looks deathly sick; his eyes red from crying so much, his face pale and drained of his skin’s natural tone. Ricardo makes his way out to the men on the amber glass.

  “Where’s Mr. Solomon!? I need to talk to Mr. Solomon!”

  “Full occupancy. Avvil is not accepting requests.” The man sounds like he’s been given one line to rehearse; the statement sounds repetitive and void of emotion.

  “Miguel, hurry quickly! Bring your kids!” I see a man dressed in a nice, plaid suit coming out from the same amber elevator that we used to come in the city. He, too, has on an oxygen mask, and he waves for Ricardo to come with him in the elevator. Ricardo quickly runs over to the elevator while the crowd of people behind him scream wildly at the two. I can hear the desperation from the crowd as they yell Britt Solomon’s name. A man from the crowd takes off sprinting toward the elevator. It doesn’t take long after his foot hits the glass that he’s shot down by one of the three men.

  I hop in the elevator as it falls below the surface. “Mr. Solomon, thank you so much for–”

  “Quiet. Close your mouth, that goes for your kids, too. You don’t want any of this mist going in there. You can inhale, just don’t taste it.” Ricardo closes the mouth of the young boy gripped to his hand as he and the teenage girl in his arms do the same. The elevator becomes filled with a fog, the exact same kind that my group was met with when we entered the city. As a light mist of dew coats the group, Britt lifts up to take off his oxygen mask. He’s not as old as I pictured him to be. His hair is thin on the sides but gray and curly on top, and he has a strong build to him.

  “You’re lucky I got your text message,” Britt tells Ricardo. “Phones have terrible service in Avvil. I haven’t seen you in ages; not since you helped with the construction of this place. Gosh, that was forever ago! You must’ve been, what, twenty? And I didn’t know you had kids! You can let your daughter down; she’s safe in Avvil!”

  “She can’t stand on her own. She has cerebral palsy,” Ricardo tells the man. A sullen look crosses Britt’s face, the vigor in his attitude leaving. “My son, Isaac… I think he’s contracted it. They say people egotone in different ways, but he’s been like this for a few hours. My wife was with us, but I lost her this morning on the ride over here… I couldn’t think of anywhere to go. I’m so disappointed that I didn’t think of this place sooner; the place I helped build. If I would have thought about this from the start, maybe my family would be safe. I just didn’t think you’d take us in. I remember how limited space is here. You might’ve already been full.”

  “Why do you think those people were screaming at me up there? I can’t fit anymore people in here. I’d absolutely love to, but even Noah’s Ark had a limit. But you’re as good as family. Your father and I have been friends for decades; you should’ve known you were welcome here! For Christ’s sake, you were on the construction team I hired to build Avvil! This place is just as much yours as it is mine. We will make room for you if we have to.” Britt takes an unpromising look at the boy Ricardo clutches in his hand. “But your boy... He’s going to egotone, Miguel. That is if he hasn’t started to already…” Britt swallows hard, hoping he can swallow down the words he’s about to say. “He can’t stay down here.”

  “What!? Why?”

  “There’s a rule we have,” Britt slowly begins. “Nobody down here has any trace of Cozmin to them. The fog that just filled the elevator washes the Cozmin off of your clothes and skin, but your boy has already got it in him. If he’s down here, he might spread the Cozmin to the people here. He has to go back up. You and your daughter can stay, but your boy can’t.”

  “You can’t do that to him! There’s a research lab down here, I helped build it! There has to be some research on solving this disease that the people already here have made!”

  “Miguel, we’ve barely been down here for twenty-four hours. There’s no telling how long it’ll be until your son fully egotones: might be a couple of hours, might be in five seconds.” Both Ricardo and Britt look at the young boy, whose face is emotionless, unresponsive to the fact that his fate is being discussed above him. He may already be gone. “I can’t allow him down here, Miguel. The virus is only on the surface; it isn’t detectable down–”

  “Ahhhh!!” I hear a struggled yell on Ricardo’s shoulder. His daughter begins groaning in agony and slowly slams her fists into her father’s back.

  “No… Camila don’t…”

  The elevator reaches the bottom and the door slides open. Ricardo rushes out and lays his daughter on the ground. His son stays in the elevator, paralyzed. Britt rushes over to Ricardo.

  “Mr. Solomon! She’s dying right in front of me!” Ricardo’s crying has erupted and his voice has lost hope. “What do I do!?”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this right now…” Britt looks around to the people who have turned their attention to these new visitors. Britt clearly would rather somebody else in the city say what he’s about to say to Ricardo. “Like I said, there’s a rule. I’m so sorry. They can’t stay here. They’ll contaminate the air. They need to go back to the surface.”

  “Please!” Ricardo cries out, a vulnerable state that is new for me to see him in. “Save my girl! I’ll do anything!”

  “I can’t! There’s no saving your daughter!” Britt hits Ricardo with the harsh reality as his daughters hits his dangling arms.

  “Daddy! S-stop the pain! STOP IT! Please, Daddy!”

  All hope and spirit exits Ricardo. The man looks like a shell of the hopeful person he was moments ago. Hopeful that Britt and this haven that he helped build would have some kind of answer to save his kids, but instead he’s told that he has to send his kids to the surface, away from the city, to die in quarantine.

  The despair floods through Ricardo’s eyes as he tries thinking of some way to save his kids. But his mind is empty, not only of solutions but of anything it held on to.

  “Miguel, please, don’t make this hard. I’ll take her and your boy back to the surface, if you want me to.”

  “Wh-what was in that gas? In the elevator?” Ricardo slowly reaches in his back pocket. “Did it do this to my Camila?” He pulls out a pistol and nervously holds it up to Britt, who is still looking at Camila. Through his sweaty, shaking hands, I can read the words “Pietro Beretta” on the barrel of the gun. The crowd surrounding us gasps, but none of them make a move to stop him.

  “You said that this city is as much mine as it is yours,” Ricardo says with a solemn and defeated sturdiness to his voice. “What gives you the right to tell me to send my kids, MY kids, to their deaths, huh? HUH!? Do you think you’re GOD!?”

  “Please,” Britt says, still looking at Camila but knowing what’s going on behind him, “don’t do anything silly right now. You know I wouldn’t put anything dangerous in that elevator. I know it’s a difficult moment for you right now, but don’t make any sudden actions that you’ll regret.”

  “Then take my kids to the research lab and heal them!”

  Britt pauses for a long time and slowly turns to Ricardo. “There’s no healing them, Miguel.”

  Ricardo finally gains his composure physically, putting him in control as he steps up to Britt and shoves the muzzle of the gun into Britt’s forehead. “Who do you think you are? You’re leaving people outside to claw at your glass and beg for their lives while you sit in here and deny those who need your help!”

  The crowd cries out in shock as Ricardo cocks the gun back, yelling at Ricardo not to do it. As they yell, Ricardo pulls the gun away from Britt and points it to the crowd. “Shut up! You all are just as guilty as he is!” Ricardo is a man who’s lost all his family and, as far as it seems, his will to live. Any interference will cause him to pull the trigger without hesitation.

  “Miguel,” Brit
t starts, his hands lifted up in surrender. “Don’t blame anybody else for this. Nobody here is guilty. We’re all just looking to survive, that’s all.”

  Ricardo sneers and turns the gun back to Britt, but his authority is sidetracked when he hears the sound of his son falling over on the ground behind him.

  Ricardo grabs the crease of his nose and sobs, all while his daughter continues screaming in pain. A few seconds later, Isaac stands up and attempts a menacing yell that isn’t threatening due to his young, innocent voice. He charges his little legs toward his father, an action I’m sure that Ricardo and his son have playfully done before. Ricardo turns the gun to his son and pulls the trigger, hitting Isaac in the chest. Ricardo’s cries are loud, having drowned out his voice entirely.

  “THIS IS ON YOU!” he shouts at Britt, forcing the gun hard to his head. “You let Isaac die! And now my Camila is lying there in pain! Listen to her! How dare you deny us! Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now!”

  “Miguel, Listen to me. The Cozmin disease shouldn’t divide us; it should bring us together as one unifying group that’s main focus is to stay alive.” Britt is obviously terrified, sweat running down his cheeks. “Your father and I were close friends. I’ve looked at you like you were my nephew. This doesn’t have to be like this. I don’t want to leave those people up there! It breaks my heart knowing that they came to me for help and there’s nothing I can do for them! But it’s a move I have to make and I have to live with it. Please, Miguel, don’t tear this city that we’ve worked so hard on apart just because you’ve lost your loved ones. We all have. Fight this virus together with all of us.”

  Ricardo’s face stays tenacious, full of determined anger.

  “Not enough.”

  Ricardo pulls the trigger, sending Britt to the ground in what seems like slow-motion. The surrounding people scream in panic. Camila lies on the ground, crying, her hands clutched tightly to her ears. Ricardo immediately walks back over to the elevator without anybody stopping him. He heads back to the top before I can get in with him. The crowd hurriedly surrounds Britt’s body. They completely disregard Camila. Her loud screams of pain get drowned out by the hysteric horror of the crowd. I’m not sure if she eventually egotoned or was instead trampled to death.

  Ricardo comes back down the elevator, a full load of people in there with him. As the people gleefully run out the elevator cab to their safe city, the Avvil crowd focuses their attention to the murderer who just killed the owner of the city that saved their lives. Many people are sickened with hate and frustration. Many people want Ricardo dead right now. Many people are terrified of the cold-blooded killer.

  “Avvil! I am now your new leader!” Ricardo declares to the city as the elevator cab rushes up behind him, empty. “Britt Solomon was a selfish leader who cared not of the safety of your lives but of the remembrance of his name, which is why he built this city in the first place. His death was necessary.” The elevator cab returns to the ground, unloading another cab full of people. Ricardo has people on his side. He’s going to bring everyone above ground in the city, and they’ll back Ricardo since Britt was the one who left them for dead. Ricardo is basically conquering Avvil with his own army to support him.

  This is why people here are scared of Ricardo: he’s a blatant murderer with a short fuse and a thirst for power. That’s a terrifying combination.

  The sepia world around me spins out of control and dissolves.

  I’m lying on my balcony, staring into my room. Ricardo is still having his way with Sabrina. She’s quit calling out in resistance.

  I rush in my room and bang on the wall. I’m sorry, Sabrina, but I have to break our promise.

  “Ricardo, get off of her!”

  “Shut your mouth, Foxx!” he yells at me through quick, deep breaths.

  “You’re a pathetic excuse of a man!” I have to think of something that will draw him in here, away from her. “It’s sad to think that murdering a man in cold-blood would save your kids. Not only that, but you shot your own son and left your handicapped daughter to die alone. You never deserved to call yourself a father.”

  Both rooms fall silent. “What did you tell him?” I hear Ricardo ask Sabrina. Sabrina whimpers “nothing,” but a loud smack follows shortly after. “LIAR! YOU TOLD HIM!” There’s a pause that’s consumed by Sabrina’s cries that she tries to suppress. I then hear the door to Sabrina’s room slam against the wall. My door flies open shortly after.

  Ricardo strides in, shirtless and in shorts, his body dominated by tattoos and sweat, his face engulfed in rage. He pulls me in by my shirt and throws me against the wall, just like he did Tankian. There’s no doubt about what’s next: he’s going to stab me just like he did Tankian.

  “Say it to my face!” Ricardo growls, spit flying onto my chin.

  I struggle to speak through my fear. “You murdered the guy who saved your life. You’re a sadistic son of a bitch.”

  Ricardo pulls his head back and slams his skull into my face, busting my nose open and causing my pain from earlier to resurface. “You don’t know anything about Britt! You didn’t know what he was telling us workers twenty years ago when we were building this city! Britt Solomon only cared about himself! He got what he deserved.”

  I smile, spewing blood from my gums and down my chin. “And I can’t wait until you get your turn.”

  He headbutts me again, this time harder. He pulls his fist back, throwing repeated punches into my face and stomach. Knocking the breath out of me, hurling my own blood that collected on his knuckles back into my face. I crumble over and fall on the ground.

  “Do you think you’re gonna do it to me? Are you, El Zorro Feo, going to give me what I deserve? Then do it! Right now! I’ll help you out!” My eyes are too swollen and bloodied to see what it is he dropped on the ground in front of me. I reach out to where I heard it fall, and I feel a pistol. My fingers withdraw when I realize it must be the one he killed Britt with. “That’s the only gun in this city. Only one bullet in the chamber, so make it count! Come on! Shoot me! GIVE ME WHAT I DESERVE!”

  Even if I could see, I couldn’t shoot him. He could be tricking me, wanting me to pull the trigger just so we can both hear the empty clank of it. No, now is not the time. But it will come.

  “Todos hablar, no caminar. Cobarde.” I hear him spit at me as it lands on the back of my neck. Ricardo squats down closer to me, as I can feel his breath attacking my ear. “Listen to me good, you little meddling shit: don’t you ever talk to Ribbon #12. If I catch you two talking again, I will slice both of your throat’s open and let you two drown in each other’s blood. You got that?”

  I weakly raise my head. I try opening my eyes to look at Ricardo, but I can’t. “Her name is Sabrina.”

  I feel Ricardo’s foot kick my face, knocking me out…

  25.

  I wake up to the feeling of a cold cloth touching my neck. My right eye has barely opened up enough for me to peek through my eyelid, and I see Mrs. Margaret squatted down close to me.

  “I thought he killed you,” she whispers to me, her voice gentle and calm. “You hadn’t moved since I brought you breakfast.”

  She’s not against me. She’s just like everyone else in the city: scared. I’m disappointed it took me this long to realize it.

  “Which side were you?” I ask her through my raspy, broken voice. “Were you already in the city or did Ricardo let you in?”

  “I was one of the ones he let in,” she says as she delicately rubs the damp rag over my battered face. “But once he took over, it didn’t matter what side you were on. He hated anyone who questioned him. I kept my mouth shut and did what he said. That’s why I’m still alive. And like you said, that’s why you’re in this room.”

  “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have blamed you.” I let her rub the dried blood off my sore face, her soothing strokes comforting me. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I’ve been too scared to help you. Mr. Ricardo is ruthless. The slig
htest deviation from his system and… It’s not pretty. I believe you saw it yourself yesterday with your friend, Mr. Plunket.”

  “What did Stewart do to get killed?” I ask her.

  “I wish I knew… The last time visitors came, it happened after they were shown the research lab, and the same thing happened with your group. I’m sure it revolves around that.”

  If that’s true, I wonder how long it’ll be until I see Jenkins being brought out into the Atoning Arena. Or Cody. “Have you seen my friend since I’ve been up here?”

  Mrs. Margaret turns around, making sure that Ricardo didn’t sneak though the open door behind her. “I haven’t, but that’s a good thing. For him, staying hidden is better than being found.”

  Not very helpful, but definitely not the worst thing I could’ve heard. “Okay. What about Camila? Do you think you could bring her up here so I can talk to her?”

  Mrs. Margaret’s delayed response tells me that neither no nor yes seem like viable answers. “It’ll be risky, but I’ll try. No promises.”

  “Thank you,” I wholeheartedly tell her, hoping she accepts it as my apology. She gives a hopeful grin, places my lunch plate on the ground close to my face, and leaves the room.

  I stare at my plate of food for half an hour before I actually nibble into it. The throbbing taste of blood in my mouth is sickening, and the tomato sandwich does nothing to rid of it. My mouth aches terribly with every bite, and it even hurts to swallow. I eventually crawl to my bed where I can properly sulk on something much more comfortable than a floor.

  I think about my life now: how my impending death is going to be nothing compared to the torture leading up to it, how Cody and Jenkins are more than likely in for a death that was just as brutal as Stewart’s, and how I truly am in isolation now. Ricardo said that if I talked to Sabrina again, he’ll kill both of us. I know he’s going to kill me anyway, but I can’t let him do anything to Sabrina. That’s where I’m in a stalemate next time he visits her: I either let him do what he wants to her, or I intervene and get us both killed.