by Kevin George
Chad sneered and waved the metal pole toward Damon. He’s crazy, Damon thought, angry at himself for not controlling the tremble in his hands. He wanted to pull the trigger and be done with this distraction, but his face flushed and he suddenly felt weakness in his limbs. Damon looked toward the ground, wishing he’d grabbed his mask to put back on.
“You have no idea what it took to get here,” Chad said, his voice at a gentle simmer, “no idea what I’ve been through. I could’ve turned back, you know; I could’ve tried going home to find Emma. . . to save her from whatever Prince Oliver has done. . .”
Chad shook his head, his lips pursed as he clenched his jaw. He took a step forward. In return, Damon took a step back, bumping into a covered vehicle, nearly tripping.
“But I didn’t,” Chad continued. “I came here. . . all the way here. . . through darkness, and heat, and falling dirt. I’m not going to let anything—or anyone—get in my way, including you. Now. . . take. . . me. . . to. . . Sally.”
“Stop!” Damon yelled, the crack in his voice echoing in the hollow space. He hated having to clear this throat. “Backup will be here any moment.”
He didn’t know if that was true but hoped it was. It took all his willpower to stop from looking back to the open hangar door. What’s taking them so damn long to get back with the prisoners?
“You mean the guards rushing to the upper level?” Chad asked with eerie calmness. “Or the guards still driving outside? The ones that don’t know your face?”
“How did you—”
“Sound carries in here,” Chad said.
Of course it does, you damn fool, Damon thought, his father’s voice echoing in his mind. He could imagine the disappointment on his father’s face if he’d seen the way his weak son backed down to what amounted to an unarmed man. Damon’s hands shook again, this time with anger. When Chad took his next step forward, Damon lunged forward, lashing out with his gun, aiming for Chad’s head. Chad flinched, unable to avoid being hit, but turning just enough to make the blow a glancing one.
Momentarily dazed, Chad stumbled back a few steps and doubled over in pain, groaning. But pain was something he’d grown accustomed to during the last few months, and though he kept his head down, his eyes remained up, watching The Mountain guard stepping closer, snickering with satisfaction. Chad lunged at Damon, swinging the metal pole in the process, smashing it against the guard’s leg. Damon screamed in pain and anger, enraged about dropping his guard.
Though Damon’s leg threatened to buckle, he launched himself at the intruder, raising his gun to put a bullet in the man’s chest. Chad swung the pole at the last moment, knocking the gun aside just as Damon pulled the trigger. The bullet missed him by inches, the gunshot echoing in the hangar. Damon didn’t hesitate to swing his gun again, this time catching Chad in the side of the head, causing both of his legs to weaken. Chad fell forward and the two men collided, their arms and weapons ending up intertwined, both trying to push the other down. Damon craned his neck back as far as it would go before launching it forward, using the crown of his head to strike Chad in the chin.
Chad’s vision flickered to black and his legs vanished beneath him. As he collapsed, he realized this was a position from which the guard would ultimately kill him. With his remaining strength, Chad kicked his legs out. His attack had little power behind it, but his legs tangled enough with the guard to cause Damon to stumble and collapse atop him. Pole still firmly in hand, Chad raised his arms to brace himself for the guard to collapse atop him. But Damon grunted and stopped falling a few inches above Chad, who stared up at the guard’s eyes, watching them go wide with pain and shock.
A moment later, a line of red liquid trickled out of Damon’s mouth, splashing down warmly against Chad’s face. Chad wriggled aside, watching the guard’s body tilt to the side and collapse onto his back, the sharpened end of the metal pipe sticking out of his chest. Chad scrambled to his feet and backed away, shaking his head at the sight of the dying man. Bloody bubbles formed at the corner of Damon’s mouth as he gasped for breath.
“I. . . I didn’t mean to,” Chad said. “I’m sorry. . . I’m so sorry. I just wanted Sally. Why didn’t you just give me Sally?”
“No. . . Sally,” Damon gasped.
Gun still in hand, Damon struggled to raise it. Though his brain began to shut down, the thought of his father’s disappointment gave him the little bit of energy he needed. Before he could pull the trigger, Chad hurried forward and yanked the weapon out of his hand. Chad raised the gun and spun around, worried that more guards would be rushing toward him. There were none. He hid behind the nearest vehicle just in case, holding his breath to listen for anyone approaching. Still, nothing.
As Damon’s waning breaths became increasingly ragged, the sudden crackle of his walkie-talkie startled both men.
“Are you really not coming up after everything we talked about?”
It was the same female voice Chad overheard earlier. Damon snorted, the effort causing a spurt of blood to shoot from his mouth. Too late, Chad saw the guard lifting the walkie talkie toward his mouth and pressing the transmit button. Chad opened his mouth to yell ‘stop’ but only managed a gasp.
“I. . . was. . . right,” Damon choked.
Chad rushed toward him, but the walkie slipped from Damon’s grasp before his killer reached him. With a final bloody gurgle, Damon’s chest stopped moving and his eyes stopped seeing, forever blank. Chad stopped in his tracks and stared at him, cold numbness gripping his chest. His eyes shifted between the dead man and the walkie-talkie, unable to discern which one made him feel worse. When he snapped out of his momentary trance, he scurried to the walkie, as if grabbing it could somehow suppress what Damon just reported.
Chad stared at the transmit button, tempted to push it and apologize for what happened to the guard. He didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt—and he’d only been defending himself—but he doubted anyone would believe him. He turned back toward the tunnel, wondering if he should rush back in but knowing he wouldn’t fare much better. Near the end of his long tunnel journey, he’d felt distant shaking and increased heat. He couldn’t imagine that meant anything less than disaster. His only other option awaited outside the hangar door, the white world that had nearly killed him several times.
Chad reached for the tarp of the nearest vehicle, hoping he could get it started, not that he knew where to drive it or if it would be worth living without Sally by his—
“Please repeat,” the woman’s voice crackled over the walkie. “You were too garbled to understand.”
Chad stared at the walkie, his mind needing a moment to understand the meaning of the woman’s words. Tiny dots popped in front of his eyes and he exhaled deeply, not realizing how long he’d been holding his breath.
“Answer me, but this time talk into the walkie,” the voice demanded.
Chad’s relief was short-lived. He raised the walkie high above his head, wanting to smash it against the floor but thinking better of it. He was out of immediate danger but knew continued silence could lead to trouble. Clearing his throat, he pushed the transmit button, his mind drawing a momentary blank before he spoke in a quiet growl like the guard had.
“No, I’m not coming up,” Chad said. “Someone needs to protect The Mountain. . . I mean its bottom entrance.”
Several seconds ticked by, during which time Chad was certain the person on the other end of the walkie was dispatching a squadron of guards to the hangar.
“I’m almost to the top level,” the woman said with a sigh. “We’ll deal with this later. Out.”
Chad didn’t move a muscle for nearly a minute, worried that doing so would somehow lead him to getting caught. But when he looked down at the dead guard—a sight that filled him with icy regret—he realized not acting was more likely to lead to trouble. Studying the tarps covering vehicles parked nearby, he saw they were all coated with a significant amount of dust. He assumed the vehicles hadn’t been used in a long time and hoped they wouldn’t
be uncovered any time soon. He grabbed the guard’s arms and dragged him toward the nearest one. Lifting the tarp, he wrestled the body underneath, trying to avoid looking into the blank gaze staring up at him.
Once the body was out of sight, his eye caught a glint on the floor. A streak of blood led beneath the tarp, but it was hard to see in the darkness of the shadows. Chad panicked, imagining someone slipping on the blood and following the trail to the corpse. He bent over to wipe the streak with his sleeve but realized there wasn’t as much blood as he’d thought. While on the floor, he turned his head and spotted a rumpled piece of clothing nearby: the guard’s mask. He grabbed the mask and was about to wipe the blood with it when he heard the whirring of approaching motors.
Chad picked up the guard’s gun, surprised by its weight. He’d read about such weaponry in books from the ISU, but he never realized how heavy one would be. He slung the rifle’s strap over his shoulder and rushed between the vehicles, sticking to the shadows as he headed toward the front of the hangar. Outside the open door, he saw the snow vehicles on their way back, probably less than a minute from reaching the hangar. Chad also spotted the stairs leading higher into The Mountain. He wanted to rush up and search for Sally, but he didn’t know where to look. Getting caught would undoubtedly lead to the discovery of the guard’s body, which wouldn’t bode well for him. He also considered staying hidden in the hangar’s shadows but knew the guard’s absence would be noticed.
I shouldn’t have come out of the tunnel when I did, Chad thought. I should’ve waited until all the noise and action died down.
With little time to consider the right decision—and no obvious right decision to be made—Chad clenched his fists in frustration. It was then he felt the piece of cloth in his hand and remembered what he was holding. An idea sprung to his mind, one that seemed insane at first but made more sense as he recalled the conversation between the guard and the woman in charge. As the first vehicle made its final approach, Chad pulled the mask over his face and stepped out of the shadows, waving to the first driver that parked in the hangar.
A pair of guards stepped out of the vehicle, glancing at each other before turning to Chad.
“Uh, we took care of the other intruders, as you ordered,” the first guard said as two more vehicles crossed into hangar. “They’re all dead.”
Chad’s throat tightened. The face mask shifted as his face scrunched in panic. Worried the ‘intruders’ could’ve included Sally, or his friends, or anyone else from the City Below, Chad had trouble mustering anything more than a nod.
“Except for their leaders,” the guard added. “We captured the four of them. They’re coming in the next vehicle now.”
Chad barely noticed the other guard’s face twisted in anger until the guard stomped toward him, stopping when the two were face to face. Chad worried the guard would have a closer look at his eyes and figure out who he really was.
“We didn’t need to kill any of them,” the guard snapped. “And you didn’t need to take a shot in our direction. It could’ve hit any of us.”
“Whoa, relax, Elias,” the other guard said, pulling away his partner. “Damon didn’t hit anyone and we all ended up okay.”
Chad exhaled, stepping around the two guards for a better view of the other vehicles. The next vehicle held the silhouettes of more than just two people, but Chad couldn’t see anything except shadowy forms within. Only patience stopped him from rushing toward the vehicle to see who’d been captured.
“Do you have our next orders, sir?” asked the guard beside him.
Chad blinked, forcing himself to look away from the next vehicle as it pulled to a stop.
“Go above. . . to the highest level,” he growled. “We were radioed about approaching movement from the sky.”
The guards turned to each other, their eyes widening.
“The Descendant,” one whispered in awe. “We have to go see him, Elias.”
“Shouldn’t I stay to help with the prisoners?” asked the guard named Elias.
“He told us to go up,” the other guard whined. “It might be the Descendant. We can’t miss this. I’m sure the prisoners will be put into cells until the Board figures out what to do with them. We don’t need to be here for that.”
Chad nodded at the other guard. “You’re right. Now go.”
The other guard pulled at Elias’s arm, finally convincing the man to follow. The two rushed up the stairs as the next vehicle screeched to a stop. Chad approached it slowly, hoping the other guards would be too preoccupied to pay close attention to him. As soon as the nearest vehicle’s door opened and r a woman’s voice yelled from within, he felt slightly less exposed.
“Do you have any idea who I am?” she yelled.
Something about her voice made the back of Chad’s mind itch. He hadn’t heard anyone’s voice for months, but this one was still familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it. He thought of the female voices he’d heard the most—his mother, Sally, Emma—and he thought of other prominent women he’d heard speak on rarer occasions—the Queen of the City Below and Martha Weller. None of those seemed right. As guards streamed out of trailing vehicles and surrounded the one with the prisoners, Chad felt the weight of the gun on his shoulder, wondering if he would need to use it to protect whoever was on board.
A Mountain guard emerged from the vehicle first, dragging with him a pale, middle-aged man caked in dirt. Chad didn’t recognize the man, but the term ‘Tunneler’ immediately came to mind.
“This one was driving,” the Mountain guard said, giving the Tunneler an extra shake. The Tunneler’s body tensed, though he did nothing else to resist. The next person dragged out of the vehicle—another Tunneler, this one very familiar—wasn’t so quiet.
“You didn’t need to kill my people,” Irving said. “We meant no harm to anyone. And if you knew what we endured to escape the City Below and get this far. . .”
As Irving shook his head in disgust, Chad turned away. The old man had seemed so wise—so all-knowing—during their journey through the tunnel, so Chad was certain he’d be recognized, even while wearing the mask.
“Should we make an example out of him?” one of the guards asked.
The guard raised his gun to the back of Irving’s head. All eyes turned on Chad before he realized the guards were looking to him for an answer. Before Chad could answer, the other Tunneler leapt toward him. In the split second that Chad’s eyes found the driver’s, Chad knew the man intended to kill him. Chad recoiled, fumbling with the gun in his hand, nearly tripping over his own two feet. Before the Tunneler reached him, the Mountain guards lashed out, clubbing him to the floor. Inside the vehicle, the strangely-familiar female voice continued to cry out.
“Should we handle him?” asked the guard dragging the now-dazed Tunneler to his feet.
Chad’s eyes flitted to Irving, who tried to struggle toward his fellow Tunneler, even as more guards showed up to keep them separated. For fear of speaking and giving away his identity, Chad looked to the guards and nodded, despite not knowing what they meant by ‘handling’ the Tunneler. A trio of guards grabbed the man and dragged him away, the group headed back out of the hangar and toward the Nothingness. Chad tried to watch where they were going but was interrupted when the woman’s voice continued to yell within the vehicle.
“My people are only trying to survive, same as you,” she screamed.
“What about the others?” one of the guards yelled as he reached into the vehicle to drag her out.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped. “It was only our two vehicles, that’s it.”
The woman was dragged out and tossed to the floor. Another voice inside the vehicle called out a threat, but the woman sprung to her feet, looked into the open door and shook her head. The yelling stopped immediately. Chad stared at her, his brow furrowing within the mask. She looked familiar somehow, but like her voice, he couldn’t quite figure out who she was.
“I need
to speak to whoever’s in charge,” she demanded, further proving she’d lived a life where she was accustomed to having her orders followed.
“You still look to be of childbearing age,” one of the guards said. “In that case, you’ll be speaking to our scientists, who are always on the lookout for new hosts.”
The woman’s top lip curled in a sneer. Though she was outsized and weaponless, she stomped toward the guard threatening her.
“I’ve put up with way too much in my life to be threatened by someone as pathetic as you,” she snarled.
A few other men snickered, causing the guard to grab her by the wrist and shove her in Chad’s direction. Chad caught the woman as she stumbled, helping to keep her upright. For his effort, Chad received a shove from the woman, who stepped back and aimed her vitriolic glare at him. The sneer made her look even more familiar.
“He’s in charge,” the guard snapped at her.
“That true?” she asked Chad. He nodded. “Good. Then you tell your goons to get their damn hands off us.” The anger faded from her face, the lines in her forehead deepening as she looked toward the driver being led outside. “And tell them to bring him back.”
The driver’s screams continued to echo in the distance, growing fainter with every moment. When the pop of a gunshot brought a sudden end to those screams, Chad swallowed hard to fight the bile rising at the back of his throat. His insides turned to ice, and he saw the woman and Irving glance at each other, their expressions similar masks of shock and then anger.
“You,” the woman growled, turning her attention back to Chad.
Chad opened his mouth to apologize, to explain that he didn’t realize the guards were going to do that. But he barely uttered a gasp, knowing a single word was the only thing that had been needed to stop the driver’s death, a single word that he hadn’t produced. Anger filled Chad; anger for himself, anger for the guards. He reached for the gun slung over his shoulder, which caused the woman to freeze in her tracks, her eyes fearful though her face remained twisted in defiance. Chad wished he could’ve told her she had nothing to fear from him. He wished even more there weren’t so many guards streaming out of the vehicles. Chad considered trying to mow down as many of them as possible, but he had an obligation to survive long enough to find Sally.