by Kirk Dougal
“Five years ago the sickness came,” Mother said. “Probably some kind of flu. Took out a lot of people in the area. The Black Shirts went door to door after a while, seeing who was dead and who was alive. They piled all the dead a couple of streets over and burned the bodies. Eventually the sickness faded.” She stared down at her hands for a few seconds, then looked up again. Her eyes looked even harder, the gray turning to steel. “Not before it took my James and a couple others, including young Scooter.”
“I’m sorry,” Tar said. “I remember hearing about the sickness but it didn’t hit us that bad.”
“That’s because you stayed at home,” Toby interrupted. “They closed the school for weeks and made us all stay inside and away from each other. An apartment building a few streets away from us is still empty. Everyone there got sick and died.”
Mother nodded. “It was especially hard on the old people and the young and the old.” Mother was about to say more, then stopped. Her silence dragged on until Marybelle put her hand on the old lady’s shoulder, which seemed to bring her back from whatever memory she was reliving. “You’ve sidestepped me, boy,” she said. “If you didn’t know Scooter what did you want with him?”
“My uncle had a list of names and his was on it.”
Mother’s eyes twinkled and a smile played at the corners of her mouth before she pushed it down. “Tom, search their bags.”
Tar’s stomach lurched as his backpack was suddenly snatched off his lap. Toby tried to fight back. He pushed the guy named Tom away and went for the knife at his belt. Two more men stepped up, one grabbing Toby’s arm, the other laying in a solid kidney punch.
“Toby! Just let them have it! Stop hitting him,” Tar said, worried the violence would escalate if his friend kept fighting. Toby finally gave up but glared at Tom, who had taken the bag and the knife.
Tom dumped the bag pack out on the table. He turned the flashlight over in his hands a few times but nothing else seemed to get his attention.
Tar frowned at Mother, who merely squinted at Tom as the man went through their things. She and her people clearly had the advantage here and Tar knew any more resistance would only increase the chances of things not ending well for him and Toby.
Tom moved on to Tar’s backpack, examining his flashlight, then rifling through his clothes. The man froze when he got to the shirt wrapped around Jahn’s app. He carefully folded back the sleeves and pulled the machine out into the open. A gasp went up throughout the room.
“Does it work?” asked Mother.
Tar tried to swallow. It had felt right to go looking for the other names on the list, but now it seemed everything had gone wrong. He felt very small in a very big, very dangerous place.
“Does it work?” repeated Mother, her voice hard and direct. He had the feeling she would not ask a third time.
Tar nodded. “Yeah. It’s app.”
Everyone began murmuring.
“Shhh!” demanded Mother, but then her voice softened. “Marybelle, go get a screen.”
Marybelle grinned and rushed from the room, returning seconds later with a small open container loaded with pieces of tech. She put it down on the table and Mother nodded towards Tar. Marybelle picked out some small pieces and walked over to him. She held out a cylinder-shaped one that looked somewhat similar to Jahn’s machine. “It will be okay,” she whispered when Tar did not take it. “Just fix it.”
He wondered how long she had known what he was, what he could do. Tar thought back to how she had looked wide-eyed at the blinking light on the fence after he and Toby had walked through it. “It was the gate, wasn’t it?” he asked her quietly.
“No one’s used that gate since Scooter died,” she answered, then nodded at the cylinder. “Go on. It will be all right.”
Tar slowly reached up and took it. He held the piece of tech firmly and pulled out the screen but there was no tingle in his palms. Nothing happened.
“The battery’s dead,” he said.
“Try this one.”
He lay the first brick down on the table beside him and took the second from her. Again, nothing. The third piece, however… From the second his hand touched the hard plastic screen, his mind raced down hallways, jumped through dark areas, and dragged the light along with him. Within a few seconds—or maybe it had been minutes, he wasn’t sure—the device lit up with some moving symbols and a ringing tone resounded from the app.
“He fixed it!” someone said behind him.
“It works,” said another. “The kid’s really a fixer!”
But Tar was not paying attention to the crowd. His eyes were locked in a stare with Mother.
“Welcome to Winchester House, Mr. Hutchins,” she said. Her wrinkled face was flat but those eyes sparkled in their droopy folds. “We’ve been waiting a long time for you.”
Chapter 24
Tar dunked a piece of the heavy bread into the broth and let it soak up the bland soup. It felt good to have something in his belly despite the circumstances. “What do you think?” he asked quietly, his head still lowered.
They sat apart from the others. Toby was across the table from him, while ten feet away, between them and the dining area exit, stood the two men who had helped the one named Tom take his bag. Toby avoided looking over at them.
“I think we’re prisoners. That’s what I think,” he huffed but kept it to a whisper.
“If it’s a prison they still seem better than the Black Shirts,” Tar said.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
They ate quietly for the next few minutes. Tar looked up at one point and watched Marybelle enter the room. She walked around the different tables, speaking and laughing with several people, until eventually filling a bowl from the stewpot and making her way toward them.
“Can I join you?” she asked with a glowing smile.
“Do we go 404 if we say no?” Toby groused.
Marybelle paused halfway down to her seat. Her smile slipped for a second. “You don’t like the soup?”
Toby stared down at his bowl and did not answer.
“It’s good,” Tar cut in. “Thank you for feeding us.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want you to starve.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that to happen.” Toby spit out each word. “Not chilly to kill your prisoners until after you get everything you need from them. That wouldn’t be nice.”
Marybelle’s spoon dropped into her bowl, splashing some soup on the table. The group at the nearest table looked over.
“You think this is…a prison?”
“So you’re saying we are free to leave?” asked Tar.
Marybelle’s mouth dropped open. “Why would you want to leave? It’s too dangerous out there, especially for you. The Black Shirts will catch you and do awful things. You’re much too valuable for that to happen.”
Tar and Toby looked at each other.
“A prison,” Toby said with a disgusted shake of his head.
Marybelle leaned back in her chair. She looked back and forth between them, blinked hard, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. Tar could not tell if she was really shocked or acting.
“Was Scooter a fixer? Like me?” Tar asked.
Marybelle finally smiled, a little. “In his own way. Remember, he was much younger than you are now when he…well, he still had much learning to do. Oh, and that boy had a horrible temper. If someone gave him a piece of tech with a dead battery, like I did to you today, he would throw such a fit. One time he couldn’t fix something and cried himself to sleep for a week.”
“It sounds like you knew him well.”
“We were practically brother and sister. Mother raised us both after we lost our parents.”
Tar looked down at the table, then glanced at Toby, still slouching in his chair and looking dour. “I lost both my parents in The Crash,” he said. “And Toby lost his mom.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her
smile melting away.
“Were your parents tech programmers, too?”
Marybelle tilted her head to the side. “My parents weren’t tech people. At least, Dad wasn’t. My mother died when I was still a baby and Dad raised me but he was a teacher so he was gone a lot.”
Tar and Toby looked at each other.
“But how did Scooter end up here if your parents didn’t work together?” asked Toby, suddenly seeming more interested.
“Well, Dad and Scooter’s mom knew each other through Mother. Scooter’s mom was the curator of the museum so she was kind of like Mother’s boss.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Tar, trying to process it all. “How was he a fixer if they weren’t programmers?” He ran a hand over his mouth and tapped his cheeks a couple of times while he thought. “What about Scooter’s father? Where did he work?”
It was Marybelle’s turn to look confused. “I don’t know where he worked. I don’t think Scooter did, either.”
“Did Mother know?” asked Toby.
“Maybe. Probably. I don’t know.”
“She probably didn’t tell him for his own good.” There was a bite to Toby’s voice as he spoke, each word clipped hard at the end. He glanced at Tar as he finished.
Marybelle leaned forward on her elbows. “Why is it so important to know about Scooter’s parents?”
Tar looked at Toby again. The fire had still not gone out of his friend’s eyes and he gave a slight shake of his head. Tar turned to Marybelle. “We think my parents and Scooter’s parents knew each other. We think they were books.”
Chapter 25
The boys sat on the edges of their beds. They were alone, finally.
“We can’t trust them,” Toby hissed.
Tar shrugged and started to say something to calm his friend down but Toby raised his hand.
“They kept your uncle’s app. And my knife.” Toby counted off items on his fingers as his voice grew louder. “They’ve locked us up in a room, Tar! They obviously plan on keeping us here. We’re not even 404! We’re just fragged!” Toby’s face was red and his chest heaved.
Tar felt himself being drawn into his friend’s anger. Everything Toby said was right. They weren’t allowed to leave. How would they find the other fixers now? The Winchester people would keep them here forever, making Tar fix… He blinked and his anger was gone. Tar suddenly knew what had to be done. “They might let you go,” he said.
Toby shook his head, slowly at first, and then harder. “I didn’t run away when you were in jail and I’m not going to skip out now.”
Tar laughed. “No, you stuck around and went aggro on Oso.”
Toby’s face contorted and the dam burst. He laughed softly. “Yeah, that wasn’t the most Hawking thing to do. I’m lucky he didn’t beat me hard boot.”
“That would’ve taken about one punch.”
Toby kept smiling and shrugged. “Hey, I took a punch.”
“Right. Oso wasn’t holding back or anything.” Tar smiled, but then he continued, “I don’t think we’ve got to worry about that here. Yes, they’ve locked us up and yes, we can’t leave, but I don’t think they want to really hurt us; in fact, I think they’re doing what they think they need to do to keep us alive and safe.”
“Damn funny way of showing it.”
“The point is we’ve got some time. Look, what did I fix after supper? Five, six apps? You don’t think they got a lot more around here, just bricks, primed to be grepped and automagically app again? They had a fixer once and now they know what it’s like to live without one.”
“Great for you but what am I going to do?” Toby’s voice sounded whiny.
“Well, I’m hoping they’ll let you go,” said Tar. “There’s no reason to keep you here.”
Silence fell between them. After a few minutes Toby lay back on his bed. “I’m not leaving without you.”
Tar leaned over and turned down the lantern. He sat on the edge of his bed in the darkness, facing his friend. “I know,” he whispered.
#
The click of the doorknob woke him. Tar barely had time to rub his eyes before the door opened and Marybelle burst into the room, a flashlight in her hand.
“Tar! Toby!” Her voice was low but urgent. “Get up!”
Tar started to sit up but remembered he had taken off his clothes before slipping under the covers.
“It can’t be time to get up yet,” Toby complained from somewhere beneath his blankets. “It’s still dark out.”
A loud crash from somewhere in the house melted whatever sleep lingered in Tar’s mind. Same for Toby, as he sat straight up. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“They-they’re here,” Marybelle stammered. “They never come here, ever, but they’re inside the house!”
“Who?” Toby said but Tar already knew what Marybelle was going to say.
“Black Shirts.”
Toby began wrestling on his clothes. Tar hesitated, then realized he didn’t care if Marybelle saw him in his underwear or not. The Black Shirts were coming. He thought he saw her smile before she looked away to watch the door.
“What do you mean they never come here?” he asked, his voice muffled as he pulled on his t-shirt.
“They never come onto the property,” Marybelle whispered, keeping her eyes on the slightly open door. “Well, at least not as long as I can remember. They come to the fence every once in a while but they know the tricity runs through it. But this group busted through the main entrance and cut the power.”
Toby was shoving everything he could into his backpack. “What do they want?”
“They want you.” Marybelle looked at them, her face shadowed from underneath by the dimming flashlight, making long black streaks on her face. “Someone saw you coming in the side gate and told them about you.”
Tar slipped his shoes on and looked up at her. “Did you see the leader? Do you know what he looks like?”
She nodded. “He’s older, more like Tom’s age, lots of muscles. Oh, and he’s bald.”
Tar threw his belongings in his pack, his hands a blur fed by his fear of Ludler being in the same building. He zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We need to get the rest of our stuff. Where’s my app and Toby’s knife?”
Marybelle shook her head. “I don’t think we should do that. Why do you need them?”
Toby snorted. “Forget my knife.” He took a step closer to Marybelle and let his voice drop a little more. “What do you think the Black Shirts are going to do if they find an app with a list of fixers on it?”
Marybelle stared at Toby until Tar placed his hand on her arm. She turned to face him, looking uncertain.
“I know their leader. His name is Ludler. And he is going to kill you all for helping fixers. When they get that app they will think you knew all along where all of us were hiding.” He blinked away the start of a tear. “Ludler has already killed one of our friends —just shot him in the chest—because he wouldn’t tell them where to find us.”
She finally blinked. “Okay. They’re in Mother’s sitting room. I think we can get there but you’ll need to be quiet and follow me.”
They left the room, turned right, and headed down a flight of stairs. Marybelle led them through several rooms and back out into another hallway. The entire way Tar’s heart pounded in his chest, loud enough to be heard from twenty feet away he was sure. They stopped once they heard boot heels on the wooden floor in the next hall. When they quieted Marybelle peeked around the corner and motioned for them to follow. She led them to the next turn, eased open a door, and they all slipped into the dark room beyond.
“They should be on the desk,” she whispered and offered her flashlight.
Toby took it and flicked the dim light on. He walked over to the far side of the room and returned just as fast, tucking his knife into the belt of his pants. Tar thought he saw him slip something into his jacket pocket before he hande
d over Jahn’s app and gave Marybelle her flashlight back.
Tar turned to her. “Okay,” he said.
She turned off the small light and opened the door again, pausing to listen. After a few seconds they moved out into the hall and in the opposite direction from where they had come.
Tar quickly realized two things. First, the Winchester House would have been an unbelievable place to grow up in as a kid. Second, he had no idea where they were. Stairways led straight up into walls. Doors opened onto bricks. Windows normally seen on the outside of a house opened into interior rooms. They even walked past a blue room that Tar was certain had a glass door in the floor. He was so turned around after the first few halls he doubted he could find Mother’s office again even if he had to, let alone the front door.
“What’s with the spider webs?” Toby whispered. Tar had also noticed the carvings and, in a few instances, some of the woodwork was carved like webs.
“Mrs. Winchester loved them,” Marybelle answered. “Shhh.”
Sounds came and went but finally grew quiet. Marybelle looked around before she opened the door beside her. “You first,” she said.
Tar led the way down a dark stairway, reaching out with his foot until at last he stood on the landing. Toby was only two steps back and, behind him, Marybelle’s light bobbed in her hand.
“You better take this,” she said when she joined them, handing the flashlight to Toby. “I can find my way back without it.”
“Which way is out?” asked Toby.
This time Tar was sure Marybelle’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“Out? You’re not going anywhere. Mother told me to bring you to the middle basement and lock the door so they couldn’t find you. You’re staying here so we can protect you.”
“No, we’re not!” Toby said, his voice rising. “We’re going 404 as soon as we can. Didn’t you hear, Tar? They will kill you if they find us here.”
“Shhh!” Marybelle said, her hands rising to her face with Toby’s growing anger. “They’ll hear you.”
Tar moved forward and put his hand on his friend’s arm. “It’s chilly. Let her go back. We’ll stay here.”