Melancholia

by Elle Casey

  “Are you saying he was there? That you saw him enter that subway entrance?” asked the detective.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying,” I responded, turning to face her. “I swear to God and everything that’s holy, I saw him go down those stairs right in front of that lady.” I could feel the pulse pounding hard in my neck. This just wasn’t possible. I felt trapped. Like I was being punked in the worst possible way.

  “Maybe you have the wrong entrance. You’re combining memories from two places, possibly,” suggested the cop.

  I looked at Malcolm, wondering if I was losing my mind.

  He was shaking his head. “Nope. We only saw one entrance today.” He pointed at the screen. “That one. And that guy was there, I swear too. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Okay, so explain this, then,” said the detective, fast-forwarding through the arrival scene and moving to the train platform one again.

  The video showed Malcolm and I standing there, looking at the train car and then the man approaching us. He stopped, stayed for two or three seconds, and then left us standing there. Malcolm was clearly upset, his arms flopping around, and then he was looking out towards the crowd.

  “That’s where the man told us not to go on the train.” I looked at the detective and then Malcolm. “Malcolm told everyone there was a bomb on the train.”

  “How’d you know that?” asked the cop, leaning towards Malcolm.

  “We saw him go down those stairs with a huge backpack on his back,” explained Malcolm. “And then he went onto the train. But then he got off again, and he wasn’t wearing the backpack anymore. He caught us staring at him before he got on, and then he came right at us when he got off. We weren’t the only ones who saw him. He was walking into all kinds of people on his way. He told us not to get on the train. To run.”

  “I saw that he stopped and talked to you,” said the female detective. “What I don’t understand is how he got on there in the first place without any of our cameras picking him up at any other station, and why he came to you specifically and warned you away. And I also don’t understand how you knew he’d left a bomb on the train.”

  Malcolm shrugged. “It just added up. First a big backpack then not a big backpack. He obviously had left it on the train. And then he told us to run. What else would it be?”

  “Show them the other part,” said the cop. “After this.”

  The detective stared at us for a few seconds and then aimed the remote at the screen. The video started playing again, and we watched the scene play out. They’d spliced some segments from different cameras together, showing me running through the tunnel.

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Malcolm

  I WAS PISSED. WE WERE practically being accused of having something to do with the bombing when all we’d done was try and save people. We’d seen on the news in the waiting area that no one had died, but that several people had been injured. They credited an early warning with the lack of casualties. That was me giving that warning, but here I was feeling like I should be locked up and put away forever.

  The video was tracking Rae’s movements through the tunnel, in the moments after she’d left me. She was chasing after the bald man, but the farther she got from me, the weirder the video became.

  “Where’d he go?” I asked.

  The detective froze the screen, backed it up, and played it again. “That’s what we’d like to know.”

  I watched again as the backpack man slowly but surely disappeared from the screen. It was like someone had taken an eraser and slowly scrubbed it over his image until it wasn’t there anymore.

  “Invisible man,” whispered Rae.

  “What?” asked the police officer.

  Rae sat up really tall and shook her had. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

  “You said invisible man,” said the detective, stopping the video again.

  Rae pressed her lips together but said nothing. I tried to distract them with the first thing that jumped to mind.

  “So what’s the deal? Are we in trouble or what?”

  “Not exactly,” said the detective. “But we need to find out what you know about this man and how he was able to cloak himself or get into our video feed and remove his image from it.”

  “We have no idea.” I put my hands up in a gesture of surrender, trying to look as innocent as possible. “I swear, we really don’t know any more than you do. We saw the guy, he looked creepy, and then with the backpack thing … we just didn’t want anyone getting on that train when it looked so bad. That’s why I told people to get off. I figured the worst thing that could happen is I’d be totally wrong and maybe people would be late to work or whatever.” Being late to work after lunch was better than being blown into bits.

  “And did you see him after this point?” asked the detective. She was looking at Rae but gesturing at the point in the video where he’d disappeared completely.

  “No. When I got there, I’d lost him. I looked everywhere, but he was gone. That’s when I saw the telephone and got on it to call. I thought maybe someone above the subway on the street could stop him.”

  “We did stop him, actually.” The detective pressed a button on the remote and the screen went black. She put the device on the table and sat down across from us. “After you came up out of the subway and stood in line to leave, he appeared on one of our feeds again. He was taken into custody right there on the scene.”

  “So why don’t you ask him what happened?” I asked, wondering why all the cloak and dagger stuff had to go on with Rae and me in the middle of it. Totally lame.

  “Because he disappeared again,” said the cop. “He was there in the squad car one second and gone the next.” He snapped his fingers and looked at Rae. “Just like the invisible man.”

  Rae swallowed hard.

  I laughed really loud, trying to exaggerate my response to make them feel stupid. It was our only hope of getting out of this Twilight Zone bullcrap. Influencers were one thing, but disappearing men? No thanks. “Ha! Ha! Are you kidding me? You actually think there’s such thing as an invisible man? Geez, you guys are hilarious. Can we go now? I’m late for an X-Men convention.”

  “Very funny,” said the detective, standing up. “I need to get going.” She looked at Rae first and then me. “Make sure to leave your contact information with Officer Geedy here. We’ll be in touch.”

  “We can go?” asked Rae.

  “Yes, you can go. But like I said, be prepared to be contacted again. I have a feeling you know more than you realize, but I don’t think you did anything wrong and I do think you’re telling us what you know about this guy. My instincts are usually on target, and right now they’re telling me that you’re just two kids in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She looked over at her colleague. “You good here?” She was pointing at us.

  “Yeah. I don’t have any reason to hold them right now. We’re still working on the video feed to see if it was hacked from outside or possibly even inside. I’ll get you the results of that later. Should be done by tonight or tomorrow morning.”

  “Good. Later, then.”

  She left without saying goodbye to us, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get the hell out of there and never look back. “Come on, Rae,” I said, standing and reaching out for her hand. It soothed my temper and nerves a ton just feeling her fingers slide up against mine.

  “I have your information from earlier, so you’re free to go. Thanks for your help,” said the officer, standing and walking to the door. He held it open for us as we walked through. “If you think of anything else that you forgot, give me a call.” He handed me a business card.

  I shoved it in my pocket without looking at it. “Sure.” The chances I would call him anytime in the future were about ten million to one. I wanted nothing to do with the law, invisible men, or putting myself in the spotlight.

  Rae and I walked through the administrative area of the station and pushed through the door leading to the waiting area
. Two people were standing in there, facing the other direction. As soon as I heard their voices, I knew our rescue party had arrived.

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Rae

  “JAZZY BUTTS!” I SQUEALED, RUNNING across the waiting room and grabbing her in a bear hug.

  “Ack! Public display of affection! Help!” Jasmine patted me on the shoulder a few times and then backed away, trying not to smile. “Miss me that much, eh?”

  “Oh, God, you have no idea.” I wanted to pinch her cheeks but resisted the urge.

  “Malcolm boring you to tears? I knew that would happen. All he ever does is go to the bathroom.” Kootch held his arms open. “Come to papa.”

  I slapped his hands away and grinned. “Careful. My boyfriend might not like you being so touchy feely.”

  Kootch’s face fell. “You’ve lost that lovin’ feelin’, I guess.” He sighed heavily and then shrugged, turning his attention to Malcolm and perking right back up again. “Oh well. What up, dude? Looks like you got a promotion while I was gone. Guess you owe me one for letting her go with you.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Malcolm, walking over to fist-bump Kootch. “Thanks for letting Rae go with me.”

  “OMG, JB, you have no idea how happy we are to see you,” I said, bouncing on my toes, my hands gripped in fists at my sides. “The last two days have been ridiculous.” I glanced over at Malcolm to see if he was listening. I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I need to girl talk.”

  Jasmine nodded. “Later.” She looked over at Malcolm and reached up a hand. “Skin me.”

  He gave her a high five and then backed away. A shadow moved across his face, and I had a feeling he was remembering what he’d done to her dad not that long ago. It made me feel even more special to know I was the only one he could touch without feeling guilty or afraid.

  “We need to get outta here, like now,” said Jasmine. “We can chat in the car.”

  “Dude, we got serious wheels. Sick ones. Wait ’til you see.” Kootch held the door open for us girls and then cut Malcolm off on his way out. He was right on my heels.

  “It’s probably better if I drive, though. Butts was the driver on the way up and we had a couple near-misses. Tell her to let me drive, Rae.”

  “Shut up, Kootch, I did just fine. We made it here, didn’t we?” Jasmine pushed open the main door to the outside, turning left on the sidewalk.

  I waited for Malcolm to catch up so we could walk together. I didn’t want him getting too far away from me. I was totally paranoid that someone was going to swoop in and steal him away and I’d never see him again. My father might be in custody, but none of his other friends were. They could be anyone, anywhere. The paranoia was almost suffocating. Having Malcolm near made it bearable.

  “Aw, aren’t you guys so cute together,” said Kootch in a gay voice. “Let me take a little picture of that.” He took a shot with his camera before Malcolm could push him away.

  Jasmine lifted up her key ring and pressed a button. The lights of an SUV flashed up ahead.

  I nearly vomited in my mouth when I saw it; it looked exactly like the one we’d barely escaped from.

  “Whose car is that?” asked Malcolm, suspicion lacing his voice.

  “Someone in our group. I don’t know who.” Jasmine stood at the driver’s side door out in the street, frowning at us over the hood. “What’s wrong? Why do both of you look like you just saw a ghost?”

  “Because,” explained Malcolm, “her father trapped us in one of these earlier today, and we’d be really happy never to be in one like it again.”

  “It’s not the same one, dude,” said Kootch, opening the front passenger door. “Trust me. I’ve been clinging to life in this thing for the past two hours, and before that it was in the airport parking lot.”

  I walked up to the back door and got in, once Malcolm had opened it for me. I could tell immediately that Kootch was right. It wasn’t the same car. The interior was slightly different, and the dashboard wasn’t the same. It was a newer model with more gadgets to play with. The stereo looked especially awesome. “It’s okay,” I said to Malcolm. He was standing outside, looking very nervous. “It’s not the same car.”

  He gestured for me to scoot over and joined me in the back.

  “How come it was only two hours that you were in the car when it took us fourteen or whatever?” I asked, buckling my seatbelt.

  “We flew into O’Hare and took the car from there. Got stuck in traffic. Talk about a nightmare. My life flashed before my eyes about five times along the way, and believe me, it was depressing. I need to get laid more before I die.”

  Jasmine started the car and moved the shifter into Drive. “Cone of silence, Kootch. No one wants to hear about your dry spell.”

  “Psshhhh, dry spell. I’ll have you know there’s no such thing as a dry spell in my world, Butts. The ladies are texting me twenty-four seven to get a piece of my action.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asked, pausing long enough to snatch his phone out of his hand. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Hey! Give it back!” He reached over to take it from her, but she tucked it under her left leg before he could get it.

  “Hands off the driver,” she ordered. “I’m pulling into traffic now.” She put on her left blinker and turned the wheel.

  “Oh, shit.” Kootch rushed to buckle his seat belt. He grabbed the handle above the window and put his other hand on the console between the two front seats. “Hang on, guys. Things are about to get interesting.”

  “Shut up, ding dong,” Jasmine said, pulling out into traffic. The blaring of a horn caused her to slam on her brakes.

  Malcolm and I were thrown forward a little, our heads flopping forward and back with the unexpected stop.

  “A-hole!” Jasmine shouted at her closed window. “Totally wasn’t my fault.” She was speaking to anyone listening, all her concentration focused outside at the lane of traffic she was attempting to merge into.

  I looked at Malcolm and caught him smiling. I guess there’s nothing like Jazzy Butts and her terrible driving to wipe away the fear of Influencers coming after you. I grinned at him and accepted the sweet kiss he leaned forward to give me.

  “Happy?” he asked, mouthing the word at me.

  I nodded.

  “So what happened with you guys?” asked Kootch as Jasmine finally pulled succesfully into traffic. “We were all set to go to school today and then Mr. Butts pulled the plug on it and asked Super Kootch to come out and save the day.”

  The car jerked a couple times and horns blared once again.

  “Um, well, we kind of ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I said, borrowing the detective’s words.

  “That’s not what I heard,” said Jasmine. “I heard you guys didn’t follow orders.” She shook her head in disapproval. “You’re always supposed to follow orders. Don’t you know anything about working with military people?”

  “No. We don’t, actually,” said Malcolm. “It was no big deal. We just went out for sushi.”

  “How’d you end up in the subway with a bomber?” asked Kootch. “Do they serve sushi in the subway now?”

  “How did you guys find out about that?” I asked, wondering how they could possibly know something that the rest of the world was just finding out.

  “Eyes and ears, Rae, eyes and ears.” Jasmine looked at me in the mirror and winked.

  “Why did they ask you guys to come?” asked Malcolm. “No offense, but it seems kind of risky for a couple of kids to come out here and get involved in this.”

  “Yeah,” I added. “Are your parents aware of the fact that we were kidnapped? I mean, that’s not something most parents would involve their daughter in.”

  “And the neighbor,” said Malcolm.

  Jasmine went right at the intersection, not using a turn signal and pissing off someone behind us. I felt like ducking at the sound of the horn.

  “There’s been a breech of some sort,” Jasmine explained. “I don
’t know what exactly, but somehow your dad’s group found out about where you were and how to get to you. My parents couldn’t risk sending someone who might be the problem.”

  “Your dad could have come himself,” Malcolm said.

  “Ha! After what you did to him in the panic room? No way. He’s too vulnerable to the mind-fuckers. I’m not.” She looked over her shoulder and gave us a sly smile. “I’m a Neutral, remember?”

  “Kootch isn’t,” I said, my face getting a little hot over the memory of him attacking me during our innocent kiss experiment.

  “True. But he is persistent and a huge pain in the ass when he wants something. Picture the attack he launched on that poor Ding Dong at my house and you’ll understand how impossible it was to keep him from going on this trip.”

  “My dad’s gone for a week. He’ll never know I’m missing.” Kootch reached over to mess with the radio buttons but Jasmine slapped his hand away.

  “Unless you get killed,” said Malcolm, sounding angry. “Then he’ll notice you’re missing.”

  “No one’s going to get killed,” said Jasmine. “The threat level is minimal, otherwise they never would have bought him the ticket to come with me. They figured he could carry my luggage and crap like that.”

  “Which I did. I’ve earned my keep.” Kootch turned around and grinned at us. “Threat level’s a little higher than that cuz Butts is driving, but I’m planning on wearing her down and taking the wheel pretty soon, here, so no worries. Just relax and we’ll get you to your new home in no time.”

  “Where’s that?” I asked. “Our new home? You guys are taking us?”

  “Rooooaad triiiip!” yelled Kootch, putting both hands in the air. “Roller coaster, whoooo hoooo!”

  Jasmine went over a small bump in the road. “I’m going to log onto a secure site later and get our destination,” she said. “My parents are putting it together on their own without the involvement of the group. They want to be sure the location won’t be compromised. This one, here in Chicago, was a seriously bad choice. They’re coming up with the game plan alone … no outside involvement.”