by Thomas Babak
The slide locked back.
“Reload,” Fred said.
Sandy fired off the two remaining magazines. This last time, he reloaded without being told.
Sandy put the pistol in his holster when he was finished.
“It’s a tool, son. Nothing more,” Fred said and began walking away.
Sandy gathered up the magazines and tossed them into the shoebox and followed. The used, empty shell casings sparkled in the uncut grass as they walked away.
At the kitchen table, Fred showed Sandy how to break down the pistol and clean it. He had Sandy take it apart and put it back together several times. Fred went downstairs to the basement for a while and when he came back up he had a handful of magazines and several green canvas magazine cases. They sat there both loading magazines until they ran out of rounds. Fred came back with more ammunition and they loaded all of them.
He clipped the magazine cases to the shoulder holster after Sandy put it back on. Fred had him check to see if he could easily reach all of them. “Like a regular Pancho Villa,” Fred chuckled. Sandy didn’t know what or who he was talking about and didn’t ask.
“What are you going to do now?” Fred asked.
Sandy looked out the window. The sun was already low in the sky.
“It’s getting too late,” Sandy said.
“Stay here tonight, son,” Fred said.
Sandy looked over at him, but he couldn’t stay here. He’d put Fred in more danger the longer he hung around.
Just looking at him, Sandy knew that Fred knew the danger. Fred didn’t care and said “It’s okay. Take the room upstairs on the left. I’ll keep watch. Really,” he said more of an order than a request.
“Thanks…Fred. I appreciate it. Thank you,” Sandy said as he got up and Fred led him to the staircase.
“Towels are in the hallway closet if you want to take a shower” he said, and went to the door and out onto the porch.
Sandy went upstairs. As he walked up them, dogs locked up in one of the bedrooms started barking.
Sandy said “Hush!” loudly and they actually quieted down.
He found the bedroom and the towels in the hall closet. The hot shower was the first he’d had in days.
By the time he lay down in bed, the sun had gone down. He lay there a few minutes in a strange room of somebody else’s house and it didn’t bother him. It seemed almost normal to him now with all that had gone on.
He knew that he had to try to rescue Tasha. He just had to. She had said “I can’t” when he had tried to get her to come with him. He realized that “I can’t” meant the same as “I won’t” now. He had to try anyway.
Thirty-Six
Sandy woke up to the smell of frying bacon. He pushed the covers off and got up. He’d slept soundly the whole night and felt better than he could remember. He put his shoes and socks on and put the pistol that had been sitting on the night stand into the holster and stuffed it into the shoebox. In the morning sunshine, it now seemed a little silly that he’d put it on the nightstand ready to be used before he went to sleep. He carried the shoe box downstairs with him.
Fred had breakfast on the table. Eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. He’d scrambled a whole carton of eggs and fried an entire pack of bacon. He ate some and Sandy ate all of the rest, including six slices of toast.
Finished, he sat there for a few minutes. He tried to help Fred clear the table, but Fred wouldn’t let him. When the kitchen was cleaned, they both sat at the table.
“I asked you yesterday what you were going to do. Do you know?” Fred asked.
Sandy sat there for a few moments and said “They have my girl. I had…she had a chance to escape with me, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. I have to try again.”
Fred nodded his head.
Sandy stood up. Fred remained seated.
“I have to go,” Sandy said.
“I know. Good luck and Godspeed, son” was all he said.
“Thanks again,” Sandy said.
Fred nodded and got up and walked out to the barn with Sandy.
Sandy thanked Fred and got into the van after unplugging it. Power was at 100% and there were no Errors or Alerts. He rolled slowly out of the barn. As he passed Fred, he waved and Fred said “Don’t forget who your friends are Sandy. I’m here if you need me.”
Sandy nodded, moved out into the open and activated the Bubble Drive and Bubble Field and flew north to towards the Twin Cities.
It didn’t take him long to get there and he reached the Air Force Reserve base and flew straight to the building that Tasha had been held in. The corner of the building he had destroyed was covered in a tarp. The side and room where he’d pushed it in to rescue Tasha was covered in plywood.
He flew over to the headquarters building next door. The roof was occupied now. The guy he called The Creeper was up there with six people. They had a bright blue canopy set up with tables, equipment and chairs under it. Several odd-looking devices and equipment sat on various locations around the roof with cables heading back to the canopy.
Are they trying to detect me? Sandy’s sudden thought almost sent him into a panic and almost fleeing. Then he thought about it. He didn’t give into the panic and actually hovered even closer. Why not? I have to know if they could detect me. He flew around and around the roof and over it several times. Nothing happened. They didn’t react at all. He sat there hovering over them and watching for about twenty minutes. He wasn’t even thirty feet away. They never noticed.
He flew over and down the side that held the conference room.
Tasha! She was sitting in the conference room with the Lady in Charge, Nasty Man and Chunky Slob. There was a uniformed guard as well. Everyone seemed to be ignoring her and she sat there, slumped in her chair, head down looking at nothing on the table. She almost looked like she was asleep.
He sat for a while longer but nothing else happened. Tasha shifted causing him to jerk his head towards her but that was all she did. He stared at her. She was wearing a T-shirt that was too large for her, orange baggy pants and flip flops. Her hair was a mess. Like she hadn’t brushed it in days. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and her face looked puffy. Has she been crying? She was still so achingly beautiful and Sandy still loved her fiercely.
Lady in Charge said something and they all got up quickly and started leaving the conference room. What’s going on? Sandy panicked. He lifted up and went over to the other side of the building. There were six black SUV’s parked out front. The uniformed guard had Tasha by the arm. Her hands were now zip-tied in front of her. They all jumped into separate SUVs, Tasha getting into the one with the Lady in Charge. They took off with Sandy following. They stayed together as a group and drove off the base heading… Where? Where are they going?
Sandy kept following. They headed into downtown Minneapolis and he followed, dodging the multiple skyways connecting most of the buildings to make sure he kept them in sight. They turned towards I-394 going west. Suddenly, one of the SUVs turned off away from the rest. Do I follow it? He had already lost which one Tasha was in. He stayed with the group. They came to a series of underpasses. Up or through? He went up and over them. On the other side there were only three SUV’s now. He followed those. Glancing quickly around, he could see that the other two had exited and were already splitting up.
The three SUV’s came to a tunnel ahead. Sandy recognized where he was. They went in and only one SUV came out. It slowed down as it approached the other tunnel. The Lowry Hill Tunnel. It was a long tunnel with a dogleg turn in it. Sandy flew down as the SUV approached it. It was traveling very slowly now. It entered the tunnel and Sandy flew up and over and waited on the other side not even considering for a second going inside it. A minute passed. Then another. Nothing. He waited longer. Five minutes passed and it never came out. He was tempted to go in but waited. What if Tasha wasn’t in that SUV?
Though it was an agonizing decision, he flew away and headed back to the base. An hour later they all came back. Th
e SUV’s lined up in front of the building and everyone got out and headed back into the building. Tasha walked along, her hands no longer zip-tied. It didn’t seem like anyone was escorting her. Sandy didn’t notice this. He was so relieved to see her again.
He flew to the conference room and waited. Soon they were seated at the conference table again. All except the Lady in Charge. She came in several minutes later and sat down and had a conversation with Tasha. Sandy, of course, didn’t know what was said. A few minutes later Tasha got up and left. She didn’t come back. The guard wasn’t there when they came back and she had left by herself. What did it mean? Sandy was more confused than ever. Was she still a prisoner? What hold did they have on her? What was going on? What was with the confusing road trip they just did? What the hell is going on?
There were just too many questions and no answers.
Sandy forced himself to settle back down and wait. He tried to use the binoculars to see their laptop screens. He had an angled view of the Lady in Charge’s but she had a privacy screen attached to it. He couldn’t see anything. He waited. It started to get late. It would be dark soon.
Sandy waited for a few minutes more and then flew over to the bridge underpass he’d slept under the other night. As it became fully dark he turned off the Bubble Field and floated on Lifters. He cranked the windows down to air out the inside of the van. He’d have to figure out how to get oxygen in and scrub the CO2 out one day. He could only stay inside the Bubble for six to eight hours before it got too bad. There might be a time he’d have to stay in the Bubble for much longer than that.
He went to the back of the van and spread the sleeping bag he’d bought out on the mattress. He ate in the darkness and brushed his teeth before lying down. He tried not to think about Tasha but his mind continually returned to her. All the questions finally boiled down to only one.
Who is she with now? Me or them?
Thirty-Seven
The next morning found Sandy heading back to the Air Force Reserve base after waking and waiting for the sun to come up.
All the weird equipment was still on the roof and there were two technicians huddled up and drinking coffee under the canopy.
He flew over to the conference room but no one was in it. He flew around the building looking into windows. Nothing.
Two of the six black SUV’s that had been parked out front were missing. Sandy flew back and forth between the conference room and the front of the building. He did this for another couple hours until a SUV showed up. Chunky Slob and Nasty Man got out of it carrying laptop bags and cups of coffee and headed into the building. Sandy watched them until they disappeared through the doors and then flew back to the other side and waited outside the conference room. Within a couple minutes they entered and sat down at the conference table.
Though it was a large table that could seat fifteen to twenty people they both sat at one end, next to each other. They were both facing the window so Sandy couldn’t see what was on their laptop screens. If they were like the Lady in Charge, they had privacy screens on them as well so it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. Sandy wouldn’t have been able to see what they were doing or looking at.
Nasty Man left the room after he set up. A minute later he was back with an easel with a butcher paper pad attached to it. He set it up facing the window. Chunky Slob worked on his laptop his coffee almost forgotten. The Nasty Man sat back sipping his coffee and looking out the window. Sandy got a creepy feeling that he was looking right at him at times.
Twenty minutes later the Lady in Charge and Tasha walked in. Sandy sat straight up. Tasha was wearing jeans, sneakers, a T-shirt and her black leather café jacket. She was also carrying her school backpack. She was wearing makeup and her hair had a braid across the front and down the side. Sandy watched her closely as she headed to the foot of the conference table and sat down. She pulled a book out of her backpack and started reading. It was one of Sandy’s books that he had recommended to her.
Sandy finally looked back at the Lady in Charge. She was saying something to Chunky Slob who nodded and stood up and holding a magic marker wrote in large block letters on the butcher paper. Sandy lowered the van down and closer so he could see it better.
SANDY
CALL ME 202.555.1001
He scrambled to the back after unbuckling his seat belt and grabbed a pencil and piece of paper and wrote the number down.
He sat there excited but as nothing else happened the excitement he felt slowly faded. The Lady in Charge got up and left. Sandy found himself watching Tasha. She sat there reading. After a while Chunky Slob got up, drained his coffee and said something. Tasha said something back and Chunky Slob left. He was back within a few minutes with two Styrofoam cups of coffee. He handed one to Tasha who smiled at him and said thanks. Sandy could make that out easily. It made him more anxious.
His anxiety had been increasing exponentially. Tasha seemed to be with them now. It didn’t make sense. Why?
The Lady in Charge came to the door and said something. They all got up quickly and headed out of the conference room. Sandy, who had been sitting there slumped sat straight up and flew the van up and over the roof. As he flew over he noticed the same message and phone number had been scrawled across several sheets of butcher paper and it was laying in an open spot on the roof. He flew over to the other side. There were six SUVs again.
Tasha got into one of the SUVs. This time Sandy flew closer and noticed that there was a small piece of white tape or paint on the roof. Maybe it was bird poop. As the SUV’s took off, he followed that one.
They did the same thing that they had done before. This time Sandy followed the SUV with the white spot on it and ignored the others. He didn’t care about the other SUV’s. Tasha was in this one as it drove through Minneapolis, onto the highway and headed yet again to the Lowry Hill Tunnel.
Sandy flew, like he had yesterday, to the other side and waited for it to come out of the other side. It didn’t. No other cars did either. No other cars had been on the road as he had followed. He noticed from the air that they had been backed up on the roads leading to and with the route the SUV’s had been taking. Sandy didn’t care. This was his best chance.
He flew into the tunnel and in a few seconds, the curve of the tunnel revealed the black SUV sitting in the center lane. Sandy flew up to it and around it. Under the glare of the tunnel lights and with the darkened windows he couldn’t see if anyone was inside of it. What to do? Sandy made a snap decision.
He flew around to the front of the SUV, rose up and over the hood and then down. The Bubble field crushed the hood and the front tires of the SUV exploded outwards from the downward pressure of the force. A shadow crossed his vision. Sandy looked up towards the hidden entrance of the tunnel and then flew towards it. A huge semi-truck had been moved into place, blocking the entrance to the tunnel. Even as he watched. Steel I-beams were being lowered down from above seemingly making a cage to capture him.
Sandy flew back to the other end of the tunnel. The same was being done there.
He flew back to the SUV and nudged it. Nothing happened. He looked around. There was a small catwalk with a door on the side of the tunnel.
There is no one in the SUV Sandy thought to himself in sadness and resignation. This has all been a trap. Tasha helped set the trap by being the bait.
Sandy flew down to the tunnel exit. The I-beam bars were all in place. Sandy was just about to bash his way through when several men in tactical gear scrambled into view. They held odd shotgun looking weapons with a drum magazines attached to them. They pointed into the tunnel between the I-beam bars and started shooting into it. Sandy looked back. The interior of the tunnel was filling with smoke.
Sandy backed off. His anger, simmering up to this point, began to boil over. One of the men pointed his weapon at him and squeezed off a canister round. It deflected off the Bubble and there was a sudden look of surprise on the man’s face. Sandy pushed the Thruster forward and smashed
through the steel beams. They ripped off the face of the tunnel wall where they had been slid through brackets that must have been specially placed there just to trap him. The semi-trailer sides were like wet tissue paper to the Bubble Van crashing through them.
The men scrambled out of the way. Sandy, raging, slammed back through the I-beam bars and down the smoke filled tunnel. The SUV flashed by as the Bubble Van hit it with a glancing blow as Sandy flew by. It slammed into the wall. Sandy didn’t look back at as he slammed into the beams at the other tunnel entrance.
He smashed back and forth through the semi-trailer and beams there, raging against them as well. He slammed the van downwards into the pavement. The van finally jerked to a stop as it pushed into the compressed ground and Sandy, as he started to disappear underground, jerked the stick back up. A large red dialogue appeared on the screen and a warning alarm began to sound. At the same time smoke began to appear from under the van’s hood. It rose up and outwards and curled back against the interior of the Bubble Field.
Sandy stopped. Something had happened to the batteries. He was down to 7% power. In a panic, Sandy flew straight up and away from the tunnel and Minneapolis. Power was at 5% now. Sandy turned and headed south. He switched to Lifter mode and turned the Bubble Drive off. Wind whipped the smoke that had been building up. Smoke? It wasn’t just smoke, it’s poisonous gas from the batteries, Sandy thought to himself. The wind buffeted the van as it flew. He turned the Bubble Drive back on and turned off the Lifters. Power was down to 4%. All the anger he had felt had boiled away. Sandy just felt empty now. He wasn’t even afraid about what had just happened back there or to the Bubble Van.
He turned towards Fred’s farm and increased speed. Within minutes he was circling Fred’s house and barn. Sandy set the van down next to the barn in the spot he had landed before and shut off the Bubble Field. Power was down to 3%. He got out and stood shakily on the ground, all the anger and rage had left him drained and weak.