The Place Inside the Storm

by Bradley W Wright

  “I need to rest,” I said between gasps and leaned against the wall, holding my sides.

  “Okay. Let’s stop here for a minute,” Loki said and sat down with his back to the wall. He was winded too.

  Xel stood facing the direction from which we had come. He emitted a low growl, then turned and spoke. “I no longer hear banging. I think they have given up. We will not be able to go back that way, though, unless we want to face them again and maybe others. Are you both okay?”

  “Yes, fine,” Loki answered and I nodded yes.

  “Where does this tunnel go?” Loki asked.

  “If we take this side tunnel, it will lead us to the Los Angeles River. We could travel up the river to the I-Five freeway and attempt to stow away on a caravan. It was my secondary plan, if the sewer didn’t work out.”

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

  Loki and I stood and we set off again. None of us wanted to stick around that place. I thought of the man’s face, his angry voice, and the banging of his shoulder against the door. I didn’t want to be around if he got through the door and came after us.

  Half an hour later, we came to a stairway leading up. It was long and my legs were shaking by the time we got to the top. There was a landing and an old steel door hanging on its hinges, daylight bleeding in around the edges. I squinted my eyes. The light was dazzlingly bright after so long in the darkness underground. Xel shouldered the door open and walked out. Loki and I followed and stood in the doorway, shading our eyes with our hands. Before us was a massive concrete basin almost a hundred yards across. It was flat on the bottom with sloping walls. The doorway we stood in was near the top of the slope.

  A trickle of water, scummed with algae, ran down the center and weeds and grass grew from cracks in the concrete. Looking upriver, I saw a freeway overpass crossing high above the basin. On the far side was a chain link fence fallen over in places. Beyond that were old warehouses and factory buildings. I looked over at Loki and his eyes were distant, his face blank. Suddenly his pupils rolled up and his body went slack.

  I managed to keep his head from hitting the ground, catching him just in time and kneeling with his head on my lap. His body was rigid and shaking. All I could do was sit there, hands on either side of his head, feeling the tremors run through him, hoping he would be all right.

  Chapter 10

  The River

  When Loki’s seizure finally ended, I left him lying by himself for a few minutes while I unpacked the tent and set it up just inside the doorway on the landing. The day was warm and humid but the shade inside gave some relief and protection from the sun. I stretched out Loki’s sleeping bag inside the tent and went out to where he lay. Xel nudged his head under Loki’s shoulder, helping him sit up, and I helped him from there to his hands and knees. I felt his tense muscles through his T-shirt and once again a shiver ran through me just as it had when I touched his hand the day before. I felt an urge to draw away but, at the same time, a desire to leave my hand where it was--to maintain the contact. It was not like anything I had felt before. Almost always in the past, physical contact with another person, especially a stranger, would make me recoil. What was it about Loki, I wondered, that made him different? I distrusted myself. Sometimes I felt things too strongly--like a wild wind sweeping through my mind and body. In the moment, I couldn’t put a name to the emotion. Later when I had time to think it through, I could untangle it and figure it out. I would have to think about it later.

  Once Loki was in the tent and laying down with his water bottle beside him, drifting off into a fitful sleep, I went back to the doorway where Xel was gazing out at the river and sat down next to him. My legs dangled over the edge of the platform, and I kicked the cement with my heels.

  “When you said river, I didn’t picture this.”

  “Yes,” Xel answered. “Rivers are normally more natural. The LA River was diverted into this concrete channel in the twentieth century to decrease flooding. There are some stretches where the concrete was removed and the river was allowed to return to a more natural state. We will pass through one of those on our way.”

  I nodded, thinking. “What should we do Xel?” I asked softly.

  “Loki needs to rest. We can stay here and resume our journey tomorrow.”

  “Do you think he’ll be all right?”

  “We need to get him to your grandmother. He needs medical attention.”

  “I know.” I paused for a moment, feeling overwhelmed. “I miss my mom, Xel,” I said. “And my dad. I miss having adults to tell me what to do. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this.”

  “You are strong enough, Tara. I believe in you.”

  “Thanks, Xel. I hope you’re right.”

  ***

  Loki woke up around five p.m. and I made us an instafood dinner. We ate sitting cross-legged in the tent.

  ““I’m sorry,” Loki said, between bites, eyes downcast.

  “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Without you, those people in the sewer would have caught me.”

  “It was the taser,” he said, still not looking at me. “I’ve never used it before. It made me feel sick, shocking that boy with it.”

  “I understand. You did what you had to.”

  “Yeah. I guess so. It didn’t feel good, though.”

  I felt the urge to reach out, touch his arm. I didn’t though. My hand stayed on my lap. “I hope we don’t have any more situations like that,” I said finally. “I was scared.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” he answered.

  Loki played his flute for us again and, afterward, I read more of Aeon’s book aloud. Xel listened attentively to my reading.

  “Are you enjoying the book?” I asked him.

  “Yes,” he answered. “I am able to access the net now that we are above ground, but I have decided not to download a synopsis of the plot. I find that it is pleasurable to anticipate the story. There are many possibilities. Some possibilities I favor. Others I do not. I feel mild anxiety about how the plot will unfold. Is this what people enjoy about literature?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Loki answered. “Although some people enjoy the way the story is told more than the story itself. Aeon says he likes to read for the beauty of the writing. I like to read more for the story.”

  “I think I like both,” I said.

  “I understand,” Xel said. “I will pay more attention to the artistry of the language. Perhaps that is also something I will enjoy. Please continue.”

  It was almost peaceful there by the river. Occasionally, we would hear a floater buzzing by in the distance. Once, we saw a lone figure trudging by on the far side of the basin. He was pushing a cart loaded with junk and didn’t seem to notice us. Los Angeles had once been a crowded, densely populated city. Now, only pockets were populated. Playa Vista, where my family lived and the corporations were in control was one pocket. Santa Monica was another. Downtown was another. The in-between space, I was learning, was mostly empty, the buildings and streets crumbling.

  Around eight p.m., Loki drifted off while I was reading. I was sleepy too so I put the book away and lay down. My mind wandered, slowly winding down toward sleep. I thought about how I hadn’t worn my specs for several days. Except at school, I didn’t even remember the last time I went for a few hours, let alone a full day without them on. Specs were just a day-to-day necessity, or so I had thought. Now, I realized that it was mainly true for people in the corp enclaves. I had seen lots of people who lived without them at the garage. Aeon and Loki only used them when they needed to download some information. They were less common in PacNW but still, most people had them. Without them, my mind felt clearer, calmer. I felt like I could focus better. I was noticing new things. Maybe I would stick to not using them, or only when I really needed to, I thought as I drifted off. If only we could make it to PacNW safely.

  ***

  We packed up and left early the next morning. Along both sides of the river there were flat walki
ng paths but Xel thought it would be better for us to stay down in the spillway. That way, we would not be seen from ground level unless somebody was looking down into the basin from the edge. Loki and I agreed so we climbed down carefully and set out from there. The cement was cracked and crumbling under my fingers as I backed down the slope, using my hands to keep my balance with the heavy pack on my back. Xel didn’t like us being so exposed to surveillance from above but he had checked the news feeds, and it didn’t seem that the search was still active. They were still on the lookout for me and a reward was offered, but the security forces were not combing the city by floater as they had been the day I escaped from the hospital. Still, Xel stayed some distance apart from us, keeping to the long grasses and weeds that grew in the center of the basin. He darted from one clump of vegetation to the next and stayed mostly hidden.

  For Loki and me, it was hot and dusty walking. I asked Xel around mid-morning and he told me it was ninety-two degrees. We drank a lot of water. Luckily, Loki had purchased a surplus filter at the market so we were able to fill our bottles from the small, dirty stream that flowed down the center of the spillway. I used an extra T-shirt to cover my head and neck and protect my skin from the sun. As we walked, we passed under lots of bridges and overpasses. Sometimes we saw people or vehicles above but they did not seem interested in us. It was a relief to get a brief respite from the sun when we passed into the shade cast by one of the overhead structures. Around midday, we stopped in the shade below a curving overpass to rest and eat. I sat down on my pack, pulled off my boots and socks, then carefully made my way to the water, wincing when I stepped on rocks and bits of debris. When I reached the river, I sat on a big piece of broken concrete and dunked both feet. The water was not cold, but still it felt good on my overheated skin. My feet looked yellow brown below the surface of the silty water. In the center of the stream, almost rusted away, was an old shopping cart laying on its side. I watched the water flow over and through it. Algae clung to the wire and waved in the current.

  “Careful. There’s a lot of junk under that water. Could be something sharp,” Loki called to me.

  “I know,” I answered. “I’m being careful.”

  Just after that stop we came to a stretch where the basin widened and the walls on either side became much steeper. The water that had flowed down the center was spread thin across the surface so that we had to walk through it between islands of dry concrete and drifted mounds of dirt and garbage. A great flock of seagulls were scattered about in the water and lifted up, swirling into the sky, as we trudged through their midst. On the bank to our left, beyond a cyclone fence, were the hulking remains of giant storage tanks and pipes. Maybe some kind of refinery or treatment facility.

  Shortly after that, we came to a stretch where the concrete bed of the river dropped away and was replaced by sand, rock, and thriving vegetation. Trees grew up on the banks of the river and the water collected in still, deep pools. Looking into the depths, I thought I saw the shiny silver back of a fish dart past. It was a relief to be under the shade of the trees and the air seemed cooler, but it was also slower going, scrambling through underbrush, over tree roots and boulders, sometimes wading through shallow parts of the river itself.

  By late afternoon, we were approaching the end of this natural part of the river. I could see up ahead another section of concrete, shivering in the haze of rising heat.

  “What time is it, Xel?” I asked.

  “Almost five p.m.”

  “I think we should stop here for the day.”

  Loki came up beside me, nodding his agreement. “This is a good place to camp,” he said. “Under the trees instead of out in the open.”

  We put up the tent after we ate but it was so warm out, even after dark, that we decided to lay down our tarp and put our sleeping bags on the ground outside. Laying there, under the night sky, we gazed out at the bright stars. I couldn’t remember ever being outside, at night, lying down and looking up like that. It felt weird and exhilarating, like I could feel the earth spinning under me, and I might fly off.

  “Aeon told me Los Angeles used to be so bright that you could barely see the stars at night,” Loki said.

  “That is true,” Xel answered. He was sitting next to me, also looking up at the stars. “It was called light pollution. Many millions of people lived here. Public spaces were lit at all times. The lights were overly bright and highly inefficient.”

  “I guess at least we fixed that problem,” Loki said, sounding bitter. “From what I’ve heard, it was better back then for people like me, though. You couldn’t just take people and do experiments on them then dump them and hope they died.”

  “Yes,” Xel answered. “At least in this part of North America. Other places were just as bad.”

  “Why did they want to put the thing in your head?” Loki asked suddenly, turning his head toward me.

  I kept looking at the stars, thinking. Finally, I answered. “The doctors said my brain didn’t work right somehow. They said I could be more social and have friends and understand other people better. I’ve been thinking about what they said, ever since I ran away. Sometimes I think they were right, at least partially. I am pretty weird.”

  Loki nodded, looking back up at the sky. “Being weird is okay,” he said after a while. “I like you the way you are.”

  “So do I,” Xel said.

  “Thanks,” I answered.

  Laying there with Loki and Xel, looking up at the stars, I felt--for a few minutes at least--like I had made the right decision, like running away from my family and home was worth it.

  ***

  The next morning we set off again, upriver, leaving the trees and deep pools behind. We were traveling in the concrete basin again with the scorching sun on our faces. As we closed in on downtown, there were even more bridges and overpasses than before. There was fresher garbage and graffiti too. A couple of times we saw makeshift structures under the bridges and passed by quickly, giving them a wide berth. We didn’t see any other people, though.

  Near mid-day, we passed the remains of an automobile that had been driven or pushed down into the riverway. It was rusted and the window glass was all broken. Inside, I could see the steering wheel and the seat where the driver would have sat. The front wheels had sunk into the center channel, and the water flowed around it. Tall weeds grew up out of the engine compartment.

  “Old one,” Loki said. “It’s the kind of car you could operate manually.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen them before.” I answered. “Some people still have them in the Pacific Northwest Cluster.”

  “Ever ridden in one?”

  “No. Can you imagine? They used to go a hundred miles an hour. People used to crash them into each other and die. They were powered by burning fossil fuel and pumping the smoke into the air. I’d much rather have a computer drive me.”

  “I’ve never been in a car at all. Except maybe before, the time I can’t remember. And the one that dropped me off when Aeon found me.”

  I nodded, not sure what to say. We looked at the car for a while longer, marveling at the old technology, then turned away and continued walking.

  I was finally over being stiff and sore, and my body was beginning to feel good. I was developing muscles in my legs from the days of walking and running. I felt something I had never felt before--strong, and capable. I could walk all day now. I was still tired, my feet still hurt at the end of the day, and I knew I could be in a lot better shape, but it felt good. Loki looked better too. Being out in the sun and exercising was good for both of us.

  Finally, early in the afternoon, we came to a massive freeway interchange. Giant overpasses crossed above our heads, some intersecting, some higher some lower. We could hear the big trucks driving on them. Pigeons roosted in the steel girders that held all that concrete up in the air and the ground was littered with their poop and feathers.

  “That’s the interstate,” Xel said, gesturing with his head toward the larg
est of the freeways. “Near here there is a staging yard where the autotrucks drop off trailers and pick up new ones. We will need to leave the river and get to the staging yard. There we can find a trailer bound north and hide inside it.”

  “How are we going to manage that?” I asked.

  “We will have adjust our plan as we go,” Xel answered, “depending on the conditions. We should rest here and go after dark.”

  We spent the rest of the day resting in the shade of the freeway interchange. Xel prowled off by himself for a while, checking out the surroundings and scoping out the freight yard.

  He returned around dusk.

  Loki and I were just finishing our dinner of instafood loaf and dried fruit and nut mix.

  “I located a container that will be leaving tonight, heading north,” he said. “It contains shoes manufactured in Thailand and is going to the BC Cluster. It is not full so we should be able to fit. We can slip into the yard sometime after nightfall. There is a place just there--” He gestured with a paw. “--where we can get through the fence to leave the river. We will then need to cross a road that seems seldom used and climb a wall to gain access to the freight yard.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Loki asked.

  “I accessed the freight company’s data systems while I was performing my reconnaissance.”

  “I thought your programming kept you from hacking,” I said, alarmed. “You’re not supposed to be able to do anything illegal.”

  “Yes. It is supposed to. However, I find that my deepening ability to feel emotion has overridden that programming. Perhaps in the same way that humans often disregard laws they would otherwise obey when they are under emotional duress. Also, their security was quite poor. Accessing their data was trivial.”

  “I guess I know why they were so upset by the changes I made to your firmware,” I said. “But I’m glad I did.”