Floor 21- Dark Angel

by Jason Luthor

  Hearing him say that scares me, because it’s an echo of what Mike told me once. About how things would come down to fighting between us if we couldn’t find a way to work things out. The difference is that standing there, staring at Yousef, I’m in the same position Mike was when he threatened me. Thinking about how terrible the fighting could get in the city if things got out of control . . . it scares me. So I only manage to say, “I really don’t want to think about what happens if it comes down to that.”

  Jackie’s Recording 15

  “Dark Angel to Highpoint Waystation. Talk to me, John.”

  This time, there’s barely any delay. “Looks empty where you’re at, kid.”

  “It is. It’s a pretty abandoned part of Central, south of the Green Zone but north of Central Primary. It’s a city square in midtown. I’m not really sure what they called this place specifically, but I’ve seen pictures of it from centuries ago. Once upon a time, it was amazing. Huge, electronic signs that never stopped glowing. Stores that were open until the early hours of the morning, and crowds that never left. Cars just driving through at all hours and people performing on the street. Twenty-four hours a day, the whole square was so bright, you could see it perfectly clear from the sky. Just this bright, shining light. It was like the city never slept, at least not here.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, like all the other big places around town, there’s not enough power to keep the lights running. The signs are dead. Buildings aren’t powered, so they’re empty. It’s like everyone gave up on it.”

  “This sounds like it’s leading somewhere. What’s on your mind this time?”

  “Trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do next. I haven’t talked to Tommy or Mike since that day at the medical depot. Yousef says he didn’t give the orders to take the supplies, but it’s not like he did much to stop it, and he actually sounded like he wanted to blame me for getting in the middle of things. But what was I supposed to say? That if I didn’t threaten the soldiers to stand out that Mike would bring down the whole city? Do you know what would happen to Mike if they found out he wasn’t on his medication?”

  “Probably arrest him and force him back on the stuff.”

  “Right. So, how can I really blame Yousef if he doesn’t have all the information? And I can’t tell him about the situation. I don’t know how much I can trust him. When I talk to him, he sounds like someone trying to do the right thing, but . . . I don’t know. If I turned against Yousef at this point, what would that look like? Even I can’t fight every person from Fort Silence, and so many people would die here . . . I’m not even sure if that’s an option now, since we’ve got raiders moving south of us at Zone Delaware.”

  “Sounds like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

  “Do you think Yousef’s trustworthy?”

  “Well, he did stop that wiretapping when you asked him, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he wasn’t responsible for ordering the situation at the medical depot.”

  “As far as I know.”

  “I’m more than a hundred miles from you, so I can’t really give you a good piece of advice on this one. What I know’s that sometimes, you’ve got to stop doubting yourself and go with your gut.”

  “It’s just hard to trust myself ever since . . . you know.”

  “The incident. That of which we dare not speak, except in shadowed whispers and cryptic hints.”

  It makes me laugh. “You sure you don’t want to come out here to Central and keep me company? Lately it feels like I’m all alone when it comes to talking about some of these things.”

  “Darling, that’s not true. Even if it was, you know I can’t even leave the building, let alone travel miles south through Creep territory.”

  “I know. Maybe I will take you up on that offer to visit.”

  “I’ve extended the invitation before and it remains open. I’d like you to consider some alternative options before you get hasty, however. You’re sure there’s nobody you can talk to at Central?”

  “Well, there’s someone. There’s a pretty good guy who does a lot of work for the people around Central.”

  “Sounds like you already know who you need to pay a visit to, then.”

  Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 22

  The second I hear the heavy thud on the balcony to my window, I don’t have to wonder who it is. I look up from the stack of papers I’m reading and wave at Jackie, who just waves back from outside the glass doors. As soon as I’ve unlocked them, she steps inside, all seven feet of her. “Hello, Mr. President,” she tells me as she walks toward the desk.

  “Gabriel. I’m not on the clock right now.” Even in her armor, she looks nervous. Her hands are clenching as she paces around the room. “Why don’t you take the armor off? Make yourself comfortable.”

  She looks my way for a long second before her body vanishes for a second in blue light, until she’s standing there, a foot shorter in just her jumpsuit. For one of the few times since I’ve met her, I’m actually a little taller than she is. “Is this fine?”

  “You tell me. Are you comfortable?”

  Jackie looks away as she leans against my desk. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” I take a step over to her and lean against the desk. “You know, it was a nice day in the city today. Winter’s finally here. It’s getting to the point where we’re having to wear jackets just to get around these days.”

  She nods, even if she doesn’t turn to look at me. “I was out in the midtown area. It was nice. I mean, the suit keeps my temperature under control, so I don’t really feel cold when I’m in it.”

  “You should try it sometime. It really makes you feel alive to just take a walk between all those skyscrapers, hitting the pavement and feeling that crisp breeze coming at you. Breathing it in, the air of winter in the city. Sure, it puts a chill in your bones, but it really reminds you that you’re alive. I think it’s better than spending your whole life insulated from everything around you.”

  “Makes you feel alive, huh?” she asks as she looks over at me. “I wonder about that. A lot, I think.”

  “Because you died?”

  “That was pretty traumatic, I’m not going to lie. But, there was also all this other stuff that happened in between the time I woke up and came to Central that left a mark.”

  “Your friends have mentioned that.”

  “Yeah, everyone keeps saying they’re still my friends even though Dodger’s the only one talking to me.”

  I smile at her. “Of course they are. They worry about you all the time. Believe me, one way or another, you come up when we’re talking. Half the time I talk to Tommy, he thinks it’s going to be about you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  “They’re just concerned. It seems like you’re walking around with a lot on your shoulders. It might help if you opened up to them about what happened to you out there.”

  “I can’t,” she tells me with a shake of her head. “Not yet. I’m not sure I ever will be.”

  “I’m not going to stand here and tell you what to do, Jackie. All I’ll tell you is that if you’re really wondering if you’re alive, spend one day with your friends. All of them, the whole gang. Then you come back here and tell me if you still think you’re among the walking dead.”

  “I did spend time with Mikey, before we got into a fight. We went out to the Green Zone to watch the boats out on the lake.”

  “And how did that feel?”

  She smiles this big, wide smile as she taps into her slimmed down gauntlet, a baseball cap materializing in her hand a second later. For a long time, she just looks at it before saying anything else. “I actually really loved it. It reminded me of my mom and dad back home. I’ve skipped out on going back to the Tower ever since . . .” Jackie stops for a second as she takes in a deep breath. “Ever since things happened out in the Deadlands. But, I do think about them.
And I want to go back and see them, but . . . I need to work certain things out first.”

  “What sort of things are we talking about?”

  The hat vanishes out of her hands again as replies. “I feel like I got all this power and just, I don’t know how to use it right or even when I’m supposed to use it. I’m pissing everyone else off because they think I’m avoiding my responsibilities when I’m really just trying to keep myself accountable to something else besides myself.”

  I nod as I fold my arms over my chest. “Is that why you went along with Yousef’s plan.”

  “That’s one reason. Actually, it’s one of the big reasons. Tommy thinks it’s because I’m some naïve kid who kissed a boy, but—”

  “What’s that now?”

  Her cheeks darken a little as she brushes her hair out of her face. “I got a little drunk and kissed Yousef. Just to be clear, I wanted to.”

  “Why?”

  Jackie looks straight at me. “Nobody knows what it’s like to be me. I can take bullets to the chest and lift thousands of pounds over my head. I move so fast that most people can barely register before I’ve clocked them across the face. Yousef’s so strong he can actually hurt me. I haven’t met another single person that could do that since I was in the Tower, and it makes me feel less like a freak to know there’s someone else at least kind of like me.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not up to date on just how strong Yousef is or what he can do, although our cameras did a pretty good job of catching you and him in that fight. Right before he blew the roof off my building, I mean,” I tell her with a laugh. “Jackie, I don’t have any powers. I can’t pretend like I know what it’s like to be the only person in the world who can fly or punch a hole through steel. I’ll tell you what though. I do understand what it’s like to feel like you’re alone, to feel like nobody else understands where you’re coming from.”

  I wave to the door to my office. “I’ve got two councils, the Advisory Council and War Council, and both of them act like I’m from another planet just because I put the good of the public above their petty arguments. I’ve been decorated with the city’s highest military honor, the Mantle Victoriam,” I say as I motion to the cloak, hanging in its glass case against the wall, “But the War Council treats me like some child because I’m not over the age of 40. I’ve lost people that were irreplaceable and felt like I’d never be able to live a normal life again. I’ve been through the ringer, Jackie, so I can sympathize.”

  She shakes her head and smiles at me. “I probably sound like a jackass, acting like I’m the only person in the world who has problems.”

  “No, you don’t. You sound like a 19-year-old girl who’s struggling with responsibilities that most people can’t begin to comprehend.”

  “I think that’s why I wanted to believe in Yousef, too. He had all that power but had the responsibility to protect a lot of people. I’m saying that I could relate.” She shrugs. “But then he does what he does.”

  “To be entirely honest with you? I don’t get him,” I tell her with a shake of my own head. “I didn’t meet him until all this mess started, so I’ve been judging him based on what his father did and based on Yousef’s own reputation. It’s not hard to see why he’s so big on using military force so often.”

  “Right. His sister, Ishara.”

  “That’s not the only person he lost to the Creep. Has he told you about his mother?”

  “No. He’s only talked about her in passing.”

  My hands clamp down on the edge of the desk behind me, and I take a deep breath. “By all accounts, she died in the most horrific way possible while out in the Creep. As far as we understand, before that, Yousef was different. I think he was ten or eleven at the time, but I know he wasn’t always so single minded about the military. He was more . . . cultured. An actor in training, if you can believe that.”

  “Really?” She looks up at me. “That would explain all those plays he keeps in his room. Not to mention all the quotes he likes to spout off.”

  “Absolutely. He was a student of the theatre, even kept up with his performances for a few years into his teens.”

  “There are bookshelves after bookshelves in his room of that kind of thing.”

  “All the classical greats, if the stories are true. Shakespeare. Miller. Even ancient works, like Sophocles.”

  “I don’t know who any of those are.”

  That gets a laugh out of me. “I’ve got some of their plays in my own library. They wrote stories that captured the human experience, and as far as I’m told, Yousef was a fantastic actor until he gave it up entirely.” I look down at her. “Until his mother, and Ishara.”

  “I guess two deaths in the family was enough to finally make him give it up.”

  “Maybe that’s why I haven’t been as harsh in judging him as I’ve wanted to be. I know what it’s like to lose people out there, in the Deadlands.”

  She nods her head. “Yeah. Me too.”

  I pat her across the back. “Hey. One word of advice? Stop hesitating so much. I know you want to have something that keeps you in check, which is fine. I’m actually a huge advocate for the rule of law and acting within the system to get things done. But, sometimes we’ve got to take the lead, and I’m not just talking about a fight.” I turn away for a second and reach into my bottom drawer to pull out a small set of folded clothes. Before she can ask, I hand them over to her. “Maybe I jumped the gun on this one, but I believed so much in your ability to lead people that I had this made for you. Dodger gave me your rough measurements, so it might be a little loose.”

  She sets the pants on the table and holds out the military jacket in front of her. “A uniform?”

  “You know, that day you rescued Mike from out in the Deadlands, it really hit me how much the militia respects you. I think, in my head, I envisioned a day when you’d come onboard with us permanently. I know you don’t need the armor to lead.”

  “I’m no leader.”

  “Really now. A politician from the Old World once said, ‘If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more, and become more, then you are a leader.’ Now, I don’t know if he actually said it. Our history’s so muddled that it’s impossible to tell if some people really said these things. What I know is that it’s true. Those men and women in our militia admire you, and I just thought, with that uniform, you could stop being the Dark Angel so much and just be Jackie Coleman.”

  Jackie smiles as she sets the clothing behind her. “That’s what I want, too. I keep thinking about what you said back at the military parade and learning my ideals. I want to be someone that’s inspiring, not scary. I think . . . I want to stop wearing the mask.”

  “Nothing’s stopping you.”

  She nods as she pushes off the desk and stares me straight in the eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Ever since what happened at the medical depot, I’ve kept on thinking . . . I don’t know. I think I’ve been running away from things, and that armor . . .” Jackie shakes her head. “It’s not like I don’t need it, but I think I’ve been using it as a crutch. Maybe it’s time that I did better.”

  “Jackie, I believe in you, and so do your friends. I don’t know what it’s going to cost and I don’t know how long it will take for you to decide what path you want to walk, but I know that, in the end, you’re going to make the right decision. You still haven’t let us down when it comes to that.”

  “Thanks. That means . . . that really mean a lot.” She smiles at me. “Maybe everything really is going to get better from here, you know?”

  Tommy’s Recording 27

  It’s got to be about . . . eleven? Maybe close to midnight? Anyway, Patel’s driving us along on patrol south of Central Primary when we get a screech across the radio. “Unit D35 reporting a disturbance at Freedom Bridge. Detained about a dozen individuals illegally trying to use the bridge walkways to cross to Second Freedom. Currently holding a dozen individuals for processing.”

  I
look over at Patel, who speaks first. “Processing. Are the soldiers from Fort Silence supposed to be able to make arrests?”

  “No,” I growl. “They are explicitly forbidden from making arrests. Policing of the citizenry is supposed to be left to the militia.”

  That’s when we get another voice that breaks through the radio, except this time it’s one I recognize. It’s Mike. “Tommy. You there.”

  “Yeah, Mikey. What’s going on.”

  “They’ve got Cynthia and Mandy.”

  My head drops when I hear it. “At Freedom Bridge?”

  “I’m almost there. Tommy . . . don’t go near the bridge.”

  “What? Why?” I wait for a second, but I don’t hear a response, so I speak up again. “Mikey. What’s happening at the bridge? Why shouldn’t I go there?” He doesn’t respond, so I nod over at Patel. “Book it.”

  “Are we going to have a shootout with soldiers from Fort Silence?”

  “I hope to the Builders not,” I tell him as our transport picks up speed, the vehicle accelerating down the road. We’re moving so fast that we must get to lower Central within minutes. We’re nearly to the bridge when the whole world underneath us suddenly bumps, and the transport suddenly starts to stutter along the road as Patel tries to maintain control. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Feels like an earthquake,” he says back, his voice as steady as it always is but his eyes picked wide open.

  “An earthquake. Two? In a few days, on an island that never gets them?” That’s when my own eyes flash open, and I think about what Mike said about not going to the bridge. “Shit.”

  “Something else happening?”

  “If I’m right, then we’ve got bigger problems than an earthquake.”

  “Bigger?”

  “Trust me. Just floor it.”

  “Captain, any faster and—”

  “I know. I know. Just . . .” And then my eyes go skyward, watching a trail of fire burning its way against the dark clouds overhead and creating a path leading straight to Freedom Bridge. “Damn it. This is the last thing we need.”