The Sinner King: Book of Fire

by D. R. Crislip

  He nodded again. "They no buy. Have own. No hire person. No hire, no buy."

  "Where are they digging?"

  The clerk pointed, which was no use, and then grunted in frustration. "Where sun ends. Dig where sun ends."

  "They are digging at sunset? They wait until night?" I tried to clarify.

  The clerk seemed unsure and then spoke to Fejzo, who then translated. "No, he means they dig where the sun sets."

  "I got that much," I said, "but what does that mea—" the light went on in my head, "oh, where the sun sets. They are digging in the west."

  "West!" the store clerk had burst out. "They dig in west. Not here but west."

  I turned toward Fejzo and pointed to the hill. "The main excavation site was in the east, right out there. Now they are restoring that spot while secretly digging in the west. They have control of the road that leads over there and I'm willing to bet you can't get within a half mile of that place."

  "How do you get west?" Fejzo asked the store clerk.

  He shook his head. "No go west." He kept shaking his head.

  "We can't go to the west side of the hill?" asked Fejzo.

  "No person go west. No open."

  I looked at Fejzo and then held up the weed cutters I found. He nodded, understanding. "We would like to buy these."

  The man eyed the cutters and then removed a small pair of reading glasses and placed them on. He said the price and I paid him. Fejzo and I headed for the door but then the clerk called back out once more. "No go west!"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Roland returned to the driver seat and Rebecca stopped reading. "All set?" she asked.

  Roland nodded and said, "I think so. We should definitely—I mean—I should definitely have enough energy to get back to the city."

  There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Rebecca placed her hand onto his. "I can't thank you enough for your help."

  Roland's face blushed a bit and he wiggled uncomfortably. "Come off it Becca. I just

  don't . . ." but he seemed at a loss for the words. "We should keep going. I want to make sure you're on the StreamWay before I have to leave."

  Rebecca nodded and Roland fired up the engines. The loud whining noise returned and they ascended into the sky. "Ten more minutes and we'll be there," he told her. Rebecca looked back at the d-reader and continued with the translation.

  William had just bought the weed cutter and was sitting with Fejzo at a quiet café, waiting for the sun to go down:

  *******

  I tried reaching Mr. Vermil with my satellite phone but I kept getting his voice mail. I wanted to tell him about what was appearing to be a fake restoration project. I was beginning to think that maybe the Bosnian government had a hand in Dr. Theoman's murder. Why else would they be secretly working on the other side of the hill? But then the question was why? It wasn't hard to come to a conclusion. After hearing Fejzo's disappointment, and seeing the misery covering the town, I was pretty sure that the Bosnian authorities had decided to take over the excavation. They wanted it for themselves—for Bosnia. If there really was a pyramid buried in the hill then maybe they didn't want an American to be the one to discover it. Maybe that was why the local historians turned on Dr. Theoman. But why did they murder him? And why in such a horrific fashion? I had an explanation for that as well. Dr. Theoman's proclamation had made its way globally. There was no way for the Bosnian government to take over the operation and the discovery when Dr. Theoman's name was all over it. So they discredited him. They killed his operation and then they killed him. As for the nature of the murder—it could have been a tactic to throw off any suspicious parties. If Dr. Theoman was found shot to death on the street then his murder would have looked more like an assassination than anything, thus opening up more questions as to who had to gain by his death. But since the murder was done in such dramatic fashion it left the world pondering whom the mysterious group was, which the Bosnian government gave an answer to with the style of murder. Vampire lore was becoming a worldwide obsession. It could be that they chose none other than Dracula's favorite method of torture in order to cast off the scent, which seemed to be working perfectly.

  I then wondered if Mr. Vermil was already considering that, which would have been another reason why he didn't release any of Project Renew Our History's information on the operation. The Bosnian government killed Dr. Theoman and then pretended to restore the hill all while they continued the excavation on the backside so that one of their own could be the hero. I realized how badly I needed to talk to Mr. Vermil.

  *******

  The dashboard map began to beep. Rebecca looked up from the d-reader and then to Roland. "What does that mean?"

  "It means we're there," answered Roland while looking out his side window. "But I don't see the station."

  Rebecca looked out her window too and then said: "That's because it's underground. Look," she pointed at a far off development that appeared to have only a few buildings surrounding what looked like a cement terrace. Roland peered through her window and then angled the hovercar into a sharp right hand turn.

  "It's a good thing you saw that, otherwise we would be circling for who knows how long."

  The hovercar descended toward the small development and landed by a walkway just outside the surrounding buildings. Rebecca returned the d-reader to her workbag and pulled the strap over her shoulder. She looked to Roland who was staring back. He blinked rapidly and then turned away. "I guess this is it."

  Rebecca nodded and said: "Are you sure you don't want to come with me? I could really use the help . . . and the company."

  Roland nervously rubbed the back of his neck while his face blushed yet again. "Ah, Becca, normally I would have jumped at the invitation . . ."

  "I understand," she said.

  "It's more than that—I mean—we couldn't take the hovercar. It would only be a matter of time before Director Heckert informed the MSF that I took off with it. And if we were to leave it here, they would still know I was with you and would be able to track us from this station." Roland's eyes pleaded for her to understand. "Plus, I would only slow you down."

  Rebecca wanted to argue with him but knew it was pointless. "You wouldn't slow me down, but I understand why you need to go back."

  "It's not that I need to go back," he said quickly, "it's just that I—" but Roland also realized that it was pointless to argue.

  Rebecca opened the door and stepped out onto the walkway, just in front of a couple strolling past. "Bye, Roland. Thank you again and be safe."

  Roland waved and sighed as he watched Rebecca walk away. He was sad to see her go but knew it was for the best. Deep down, he was a little ashamed of how happy he was to be getting back to the city.

  Roland pushed the ignition button on the dashboard to restart the hovercar. Oddly, nothing happened. Roland pushed the ignition button again but had the same result. Instinctively he checked the charge meter and saw that it was full. Is it broken, he wondered. They had only recharged ten minutes ago: it couldn't be empty. Was the meter lying to him; had the hovercar run out of energy? It didn't seem possible. Roland tried the button again and again but nothing happened each time. He retrieved his digital notepad in order to run some troubleshooting questions through the Ministry database. Curiously, Roland found the screen blank. He tried turning it back on to no avail. "What in the world?" he said aloud before the horrible reality suddenly struck him and he understood what was happening. I have to find Rebecca.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Roland threw open the hovercar door and scrambled out. He looked everywhere for Rebecca but didn't see her. She must have went into the station already, he thought. Roland ran around the hovercar and toward the direction of the cement terrace in the middle of the buildings. He reached the walkway that wrapped around the buildings and slid to a halt. He was afraid that MSF agents were already there. Slowly, he walked up to the corner of the closest building and peered around its edge. Th
e cement terrace was indeed an opening to the underground StreamWay. There was an arched sign that stood above the stairwell that led into the ground. It read, StreamWay Station 113. Roland continued scanning the area but didn't see MSF agents anywhere.

  Thinking that it was safe to walk out, Roland stepped from the corner and continued toward the stairwell to the station. He was about half way past the building when he felt something grip his right arm and yank. Roland lost his balance and tumbled in-between a series of large rubbish containers. He started to shout: "What's the deal—" when a hand covered his mouth.

  "Shhh," Rebecca told him. Roland squatted next to her and she pointed high above the station entrance. There were several black dots scattered in the sky. "They're here."

  Roland saw them too and said: "They deactivated the hovercar. I can't leave."

  "Come with me," Rebecca urged.

  Roland hesitated before saying: "I can't."

  "What other choice do you have?"

  "I can't live like this, Becca. I can't." There was no disguising the fear in his eyes. "I can't run like this. It's not for me. I have to turn myself in—take my chances with the Ministry. They're fair. They've always been fair. You should too. Just explain everything."

  "They'll kill me, Roland."

  "You don't know that."

  But Rebecca did know. She knew it better than he realized. People were terminated for far less. It was fine if Roland wanted to turn himself in, but she could not. "Okay, Roland, just tell them I took you hostage."

  "What?"

  "Tell them I made you drive me to Sector 28 and then to this station. Just tell them I made you do everything by laser point."

  The black dots in the sky had grown much larger and revealed that they were indeed MSF hovercrafts.

  Roland looked back to Rebecca. "I can't do that."

  "You have to if you want your life back."

  Roland looked as if he wanted to argue but stopped. "I'll lead them away from you. I'll pop out and run toward the hovercar so that they chase after me."

  Rebecca nodded and said: "Good luck."

  "You too."

  As the hovercrafts neared the ground, Roland ran out of hiding and started howling. His limbs flopped everywhere as he hustled toward his parked hovercar. Rebecca watched the spectacle he was putting on and was slightly relieved to see that the MSF hovercrafts were sliding past the buildings and toward Roland. It was her only opportunity. As soon as the last one flew by, she ran out of her hiding space and toward the station entrance. Rebecca didn't look back one time. She ran full steam ahead and made for the stairwell.

  The switchback stairs led down into the station. They were the old cement kind, unlike the modern mechanical ones that did all the work for a person. By the time she reached the bottom, Rebecca had worked up a sweat and her ankles were burning again.

  StreamWay Station 113 was a surprisingly large underground port. The stairwell she took led to a large circular opening that went straight down, revealing level after level of railway poles forming a deep spider web of transit. Each of the railways, Rebecca imagined, snaked their way to the nearest surrounding cities. There were lines of people waiting outside each of the railway platforms. Rebecca also noticed MSF agents thinly scattered on the different levels. But what she didn't see was the StreamWay. Rebecca quickly walked along the path that traced the outside edge of the large opening, looking down into it for what she knew would be a larger railway than the rest. The StreamWay was easily two times larger than the normal rail found in the city.

  Up ahead were a series of signs directing passengers where to go. Rebecca saw that the largest one was for the StreamWay and it pointed down. Apparently it was on the lowest level of the station, which made sense. The StreamWay was famous for running hundreds of feet underground. Ministry engineers designed it that way so it could go underneath the world's oceans—at least under the parts that were shallow enough.

  Rebecca looked around for a lift that took people down and found one about a hundred feet away but also saw that there were two MSF agents doing identification scans. They were stopping everyone boarding and scanning their wrists, which held Birthmark Identification Chips. Rebecca had one too. Everyone born in The Collective had one. She had no chance of escaping if they read hers.

  There must be a stairwell, she thought. Rebecca backtracked in order to find a different route. Sure enough, there was a stairwell that led downward. Rebecca sucked in a deep breath and gritted her teeth as she descended the stairs on her throbbing ankles. It appeared that the stairs went through every level and all the way to the bottom. Rebecca used the support rail to lighten the load on her feet and jogged down them as fast as she could allow. She kept an eye out for MSF agents but it seemed they were more occupied with watching the people boarding the railways than anything. They didn't care if she was in the station, they just didn't want her leaving. So how am I going to get on the StreamWay when I find it? Rebecca wondered.

  After trotting past seven levels of railway platforms, Rebecca arrived at the one designated for the StreamWay. It was by far the largest of them all and appeared to have hundreds of people waiting, talking, and eating at the many small restaurants located inside the walls. There were also large areas blocked off for luggage to be put onto the railway. There wasn't, however, a railway to board. Rebecca felt her hope sink when she realized it had not arrived yet. What am I going to do? Above her was a holographic sign that read:

  Arrival Time – 12 mins

  Next Stop:

  Sector 29 – District 12

  Sector 29 – District 1

  Sector 30 – District 8

  Final Stop:

  Southern Point

  Twelve minutes, she thought. Rebecca knew she needed to blend in with the crowd and not be in the open. She also knew that she needed to change out of her Ministry uniform. Most of the people waiting to board the StreamWay when it arrived were wearing civilian clothes. The red vest and boots of her Ministry uniform were obvious attention grabbers for the surrounding MSF agents.

  Off to her right, Rebecca saw a ladies lavatory and quickly went inside. There was a single patron using a stall. Rebecca slid into one of the empties and locked the door. She dropped both her workbag and her travel bag and began unpacking a workout outfit. After changing she left the stall and viewed her reflection in the lavatory mirror. She almost looked fresh with the new set of clothes. Rebecca doubted anyone would suspect that she slept outdoors the previous night and had been attacked by a Stalker that threw her out a window and down twenty feet. The only evidence of that were the few cuts and scratches that were slowly healing on her neck, hands, and face.

  Rebecca shouldered both bags and contemplated what to do next. When the StreamWay arrived she knew that there was no way she could board it with the rest of the passengers. Not only were there MSF agents checking people's identifications but the StreamWay also scanned its passengers for its trip log. If she wanted to board the rail she would have to go about it unconventionally.

  Outside the lavatory, Rebecca looked around to see if anything stood out, anything to aid her in getting onboard. She melted into the crowd of people walking to and from the platform and ended up next to the luggage section. She was amazed at how large some of the bags were. What are people taking with them? she wondered. Most bags were normal sized luggage and others were smaller, but then there were the ones that looked like an entire armoire would fit inside. Rebecca watched as an older couple with two Academic aged kids walked over with their luggage and passed into the section. A handler greeted the family. He scanned their wrists and attached transparent barcodes onto each bag before directing the family where to leave the luggage. She then watched both the handler and the family leave the section.

  That was when an idea struck her: I could climb inside one of the large bags.

  It sounded great at first, but the more she talked herself through it the more ludicrous it became. What would I do with everything already
inside? She knew she couldn't just leave the contents on the ground. Someone would definitely suspect something. Plus, how would she get inside one without getting noticed in the first place? She also considered going back to the top level and stopping at the luggage store she had passed in order to buy one to climb inside, but that would alert the MSF agents to her exact location.

  A thundering noise could be heard echoing down the tunnel. Rebecca looked to her right and saw the lights of the StreamWay come into view. She felt her adrenaline pump as the time to act had arrived. The massive railway slid to a gentle halt and opened its twenty doublewide doors as well as its luggage hold that resided at the bottom. The passengers currently onboard the StreamWay exited in neat double file lines through all twenty doorways. The handlers rushed over to unload the luggage and reload the new bags. Rebecca was still standing by the section when she was suddenly swept up with the commotion of people and workers. The flow of luggage and handlers forced her to move toward the railway. She tried to step out of the path but saw MSF agents forming a barricade in front of each StreamWay door. They weren't, however, looking through the luggage section. Rebecca realized that she shouldn't resist and went straight into the luggage hold with some of the largest bags. The handlers were so preoccupied with speed and efficiency that they didn't notice the young woman tucking herself in on top of one bag and behind another. Rebecca sat silently as each bag was shoved inside, one after another. Before she knew it, the whole compartment was dark—the luggage had almost completely snuffed out the light.

  That's when the nightmarish cry of the HOUNDS began.

  They echoed off the earth packed walls and down the railway tunnel. It started with one horrible sound and then was followed by a second and a third. Each was as equally awful as the first. Rebecca instinctively covered her ears and tucked her head down. The cries only took a second before their overwhelming effect began to work on her soul.

  Rebecca began banging her head on the bag in front of her and begging for mercy. She called out to surrender but the luggage was packed in so well that nothing could be heard from within the compartment.