Negative Film

by Leonard Petracci

For the breakfast was bait. And unattended, it would be irresistible. Far more irresistible than a few stolen granola bars to a parasite scavenging our food supply.

  For five minutes, nothing moved, and I pushed aside the doubt that had started to grow inside my chest. But then I saw it, a flicker so slight that I wasn’t sure if it had been movement at all. Like a shadow, or mist, or an indentation on space itself. A shimmer that danced across the floor, coming to rest just before the plates on the countertop and pausing for what seemed like ages. Like a shadow with nowhere to fall.

  Then the illusion broke, and someone stepped out of the shimmering, casting a look left and right before lumping food hastily on a nearby plate. And just as quickly as the person arrived, they disappeared, swallowed up into the air itself, and glided away as if they had never arrived. But not before I recognized them.

  I counted to ten, then dropped the coil, where it dangled just a foot above the ground. Hand over hand, I climbed downwards in silence, my eyes on the space the shimmering had fled, a corner of the subway just behind my mother’s living area. Once my feet reached the ground, I turned to the spot where I could best guess the figure hid, and I spoke, my voice level.

  “I understand hiding—I’ve hidden before, because I’ve been afraid. But down here, there’s no one to be afraid of. We mean you no harm. Above, that’s where your fear should be. They’re looking for you, scouring the suburbs, ripping homes apart.”

  I waited, watching for a change or movement, but saw nothing. Then I continued.

  “It would be easy for me to tell them you’re down here,” I stated, letting the sentence linger but still eliciting no response. So I spoke one more time, letting the name hang in the air.

  “Lola.”

  And an inch in front of my nose, another face materialized from nothingness, the furious eyes staring deep into my own.

  Chapter 13

  I leapt backwards as a hand caught me by the shirt—and not the outside, but the inside, the fingers holding the fabric from the direction of my chest. Looking down, it appeared as if her arm was cut off by the wrist, passing directly through my pocket to emerge on the other side.

  “How long have you known?” she asked, knuckles against my skin, “and who have you told?”

  “How long have you been here?” I answered with my own question, holding my ground now that the surprise had worn off. All too well I remembered Lola’s ability as a Transient, allowing her to jump in and out of reality like a ghost, reducing the tangibility of her body at will. The last time I’d seen her fight, she’d nearly driven her semi-solid fist straight through her opponent’s head. The same fist that now rested just above my heart, and made the hairs on the back of my neck prick up. “And you lied to Linns at the academy about your strength. You faked your aptitude test.”

  “As if you didn’t,” she scoffed, tossing her hair with a shake of her head, the strands appearing translucent, “Being a Transient has taught me that it is often optimal to be innocuous, which was flawlessly working down here, until you decided to snoop. Should have minded your own business. You had no right.”

  “You live in my house,” I said, incredulous. “Blame Lucio—his stomach was what clued us in. Now why are you here?”

  “I’m hiding, just like you, except I’m actually adept at it.” She released my shirt and took a step backwards, her eyes still suspicious. “I’d rather not be ushered into a new rehabilitation facility, or something even more wretched. Down here is the best living I’ve had a year.” She shook her head, her eyes becoming hollow. “To think I’d say that about a sewer. Abhorrent.”

  “All you had to do was ask; we’re already a misfit bunch,” I answered, pointedly ignoring her last comment. “Especially because if they’re looking for you, we would have been surprised too if they found you.”

  “Can’t find me if they can’t see me,” she said and disappeared completely, leaving me staring at only empty space. I shivered as I felt something move through me, tugging slightly at the edges of my skin, then my internals, a uniform pull that felt as if water was flowing through me. Then her voice came from behind me. “And if they do find me, they’ll have an arduous time boxing me in.”

  “Don’t-don’t do that again,” I said, unnerved, turning to face her, “You didn’t just scramble anything, did you?”

  “No, but a lesser Transient would have,” she answered, nose in the air. “You’re fortunate.”

  “Just how, er, strong would Instructor Linns have classified you?” I asked.

  “Remember the trick he mentioned about shadows?” she said, raising an arm and making it disappear above the elbow, the bone and muscle showing at the joint. “I lack the faintest trace of one. That should be your indicator.”

  I swallowed and stared at the ground, where just above her elbow her shadow showed only a stump, cut off as if it had been amputated.

  “Is that why the police are searching for you? Do they want your power?”

  “Likely that plays a small role, but likely no.” She started walking away, back to the breakfast table, and loaded up a second plate. Now that she had been found, she could afford to be more generous. “They want me because of my value. My mother brought me to this city, and she was killed in a car crash only a few weeks later. I lived. Crushing metal can only do so much when there is nothing present to crush. But my grandmother would pay dearly to have me back, and they know that.”

  “So they kidnapped you for the rehabilitation facility? For money?”

  “In essence, yes, but all that glitters is not gold. I’d consider the facility more of a holding cell. It would have worked, if Siri’s singing had proved effective. I noticed you were of the few who could escape it.”

  “And how did you?”

  “Can’t hear anything,” she said and pointed to the side of her face, “if you don’t have any ears.”

  And where they should have been, they had disappeared, her hair obscuring the holes that now cut into the side of her head where they had been. I avoided looking directly through the strands, knowing underneath I’d be able to see more than I wanted. Then they popped back, and she shook her hair, clearing it away in a shimmer.

  “Clever,” I muttered, the facts aligning themselves in my mind. “But anyways, you can stay, now that we know who you are? And you’ve been here ever since we closed the tunnel?”

  “Since before. I saw what happened with Peregrine. I know what you can do, but I also know what you dare not do. You could have disintegrated him, but rather, you let him push you until you had no choice but to strike him down. And even then, I’d classify it more as an accident.”

  Ice washed over me as she cast a knowing glance, and I paused before speaking again.

  “Then it seems like we have no secrets to share with you. You though, still have many for us.”

  “It’s in my nature to keep things hidden. If you don’t agree to that, then I’ll leave. Or at least you’ll think I’ve left. Who’s to know?” She did little to conceal her smile, and again I felt a shiver. “But a similarity of ours is our lack of action. I prefer to be a body at rest. As do you.”

  I frowned at that, guilt nagging me as I thought of the inaction over the last few weeks. But what did she expect me to do, start blasting holes in the nearest police station? Interrogate those who I could find? I pushed the thoughts away, realizing she was waiting, and spoke.

  “Fine, so long as your secrets don’t put us in any danger. But I do have one condition then, if you’ll be staying. It’s going to sound weird.”

  “Name it,” she said, arching a brow.

  “We’re going to need one of your socks.”

  Chapter 14

  “You’re letting her stay?” Lucio’s voice came out shaking as he gasped through the words, his face paling to eggshell. “Are you insane? Need me to plant some memories in your head of just what she is capable of?”

  “Lucio, we spent plenty of time with her at school and nothing happened then
. Besides, if she was going to harm us, she had ample time,” I answered, trying to brush him off.

  “Yeah, but that was different—we blended in with everyone else! We don’t even know how many of her there are! What if she has dozens of other friends here?” He shivered, his eyes darting towards the shadows.

  “Right, because dozens of them subsisted off the food that you barely knew was missing.” I sighed.

  “If they’re made of almost nothing, then maybe they eat almost nothing!”

  “She had no problem demolishing the bacon before we got back,” remarked Slugger, leaning against his baseball bat and watching my mother as she fretted over Lola’s clothes, “You’re getting twisted over nothing, lad.”

  It had been an hour since my mother had returned, and my her fury had been immediately forgotten, or at least postponed, the instant she met Lola. Her instinct kicked in to mirror the first week when she had met Lucio and Slugger, when she had spent hours shopping for them at thrift stores and loading them down with necessary toiletries.

  “Besides,” I continued, holding up the sock that Lola had given me, “there aren’t many people who are missing from the rehabilitation facility besides her, and none match what the police are looking to find. Now we should be able to find out. Then we can determine why.”

  “SC!” called my mother from Lola’s side, and I walked over as she stuffed a shopping list into her purse. “We’ll be shopping for your new friend—these rags, pardon me, dearie, are not befitting of a woman. We’ll be back by dinner, so have the kitchen cleaned by then. We’ll be picking up textbooks too—your expedition to the library has reminded me that your education should not be put on hold, and your class size has just grown by one member!”

  I heard Lucio groan behind me, and Slugger cursed under his breath. They’d been enjoying the break from forced knowledge.

  “Until then,” she said, raising an eyebrow and continuing, “stay here and wait for our return. I don’t need another near heart attack.”

  They left, and for ten full minutes, we obeyed my mother, frantically cleaning the kitchen. But then we were off, Lucio leading us at a run, as we returned to the same dilapidated apartment that we had left Darian's scent. We were still panting when Olef led us to the living room, perhaps more aptly named the unlivable room in this case, and returned to the kitchen, where we could hear whistling.

  “Tea?” he asked, brandishing the kettle, rust creeping up the edges. “Help yourselves to the biscuits anyways; they’re fresh.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the plate he set down in front of us, flies buzzing away from the rock-hard pastries, and held up a hand.

  “Just had lunch, though we do appreciate it. We came asking for a favor.”

  “Already have one favor I’m doing for you,” he started, dropping a tea bag into his mug and drawing in a large breath to sniff the leaves. Then his nostrils flared and he froze, eyes widening as his gaze leapt over us.

  “New smells,” he demanded, tea forgotten and his breath coming quick. “What are your new smells? Where are they?”

  “You mean this?” I asked, raising Lola’s sock into the air.

  Olef made a grab for it with a claw-like hand, but I danced backwards, letting it dangle just out of his reach.

  “Not yet! Besides, it’s worthless to you now—the police are cancelling the bounty they gave you. But we’re still interested in the information.”

  “Cancelling it?” whined Olef. “Boy, if we still get a lead to them on time, then there will be enough cash for ten years’ rent!”

  “If it’s for this place, you’re sorely underpaid,” murmured Slugger, but Olef was still focused on the sock.

  “Well, we don’t have any leads, just the sock,” I said, balling it up and putting it back into my pocket, “but we do have a deal for you. We think that even though the police are cancelling the bounty, one among them might still be interested in speaking with us. Is Roland your contact?”

  Olef nodded, and I smiled.

  “Tell him you have information, then. Ransom it for however much you wish, and we’ll be waiting. It’s time we met up with him. But first, what information did they give you on the owner?”

  “I don’t get information. I only get smells,” responded Olef, still looking disappointed, “but I’ll salvage whatever cash I can out of this. Even a quarter of the original price would be worth it.”

  “Good. Arrange the meeting, and Lucio will be in contact with you from our end. Don’t let Roland know he’ll be meeting anyone else than yourself—and trust me, he should still be very interested.”

  I turned to leave, but Olef spoke behind me, stopping us in our tracks.

  “Speaking of rewards, boy, you owe me mine. I found the owner of your smell. Or I’ve come close.”

  Chapter 15

  “Whelp, that’s him,” Olef said, inhaling deeply as we watched from the bushes. “I’ll be taking that second half now.”

  “That’s absolutely not him,” countered Lucio, crumbling leaves under his foot. “Olef, my friend group doesn’t have a middle-aged balding man in it. Yet, at least. You met Darian, you should know.”

  “Maybe, but what I can tell you is that he’s got his smell all over him. Likely stays at the same place, or spends lots of time together.”

  “The hell?” whispered Lucio. “There’s no way Darian is a buddy with that.”

  The man in question was across the parking lot and through a pane of glass, sitting with his back to us. He wore a suit that might have been fashionable two decades before, the fading colors barely clinging to the fabric, and the sizing indicating he had lost considerable weight since its creation. Above him a barber paused, his scissors hovering in the air, his expression puzzled. For though the man waited patiently, there was hardly enough hair to justify a trimming, and those that did exist were so sparse, they could be handled individually.

  “I want my second half,” demanded Olef, shifting his weight from where we were crouched. “A deal’s a deal, and I found the smell.”

  “Not until we find Darian; that was the deal,” declared Lucio, “I’ll contact you.”

  “You better,” said Olef and emerged from the bushes, brushing off his shirt as he left, the appearance seeming even worse without debris to hide the stains, “because nothing gets my nose going like unpaid debts.”

  Eventually, the barber gave up, directing the man back to the counter, where he paid and left through the front door, the bell on the frame announcing his departure. The man turned right and ambled down the street, appearing in no particular rush.

  “Let’s split up. You tail him, and I’ll talk to the barber,” I said to Lucio. “Slugger, come fetch me once you find out his destination. I’m thinking we might have to investigate deeper. Try not to be seen or identified.”

  “Deal,” said Lucio, “though with these hoodies, there’s no way they’ll know who we are.”

  We split, and I entered the shop, the open door summoning the barber from the back with a bell.

  “Basic trim?” he asked, straightening his apron and gesturing to an open seat. “Or are we looking for the works? Could take care of that stubble for you.”

  “Neither, actually,” I answered, leaning against the counter. “I was hoping you could answer a few questions about your last customer. He’s my friend’s dad, but my friend’s been missing for a month.”

  “Eh, I think you’ve got the wrong person,” said the barber, frowning as he realized he’d be making no sale. “Donny’s a regular here. No family to speak of; says he lives alone. Weirdest customer I’ve ever seen, though.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s him. How so?”

  “Stops in here twice a week, every week. Hasn’t missed a Tuesday or Friday since he appeared.”

  “Wait, you just let him sit there and cut almost nothing twice a week?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “What can I say? He’s my main profit center!” responded the barber, patting his pocket. “
Practically keeping this place afloat. I’m not going to turn him away. Doesn’t tip worth a damn, but comes here often enough I don’t mind.”

  “Anything else you have on him?” I squinted, doing my best to look suspicious, hoping the barber might be hiding something.

  “Nothing. But shouldn’t you know, if he’s who you think?”

  “Guess I was wrong!” I said sheepishly as the barber raised an eyebrow. “But anyways, thanks for your help!”

  I darted out the door before he could ask more questions, and followed the general direction that Lucio had taken. Seconds later, I spotted Slugger beelining towards me and motioning to follow.

  The residence we arrived at was only three blocks down and Lucio was already peering inside. The home was massive—the barber shop was placed on the outskirts of the city, where suburbs were just starting to sprout up, but this home was in prime business territory. The plot of land for its driveway alone likely cost more than an entire house just a few blocks away, but more impressive was the ornamentation—the house was old but well built. Adorned with columns of marble and decorative statues that perched atop the roof, a wrought-iron fence, and enormous windows that displayed features of the interior ranging from life-size paintings to a kitchen decorated with shining appliances.

  Lucio’s eyes were on the kitchen, where the man could be seen through the windows, only the top of his head visible as he sliced apples on a cutting board. He wrapped them individually, then prepared sandwiches before placing those in brown bags, and writing names on them with a marker. Behind him, a door opened and a woman entered, a necklace encrusted with diamonds flashing as she caught his attention, and her voice just audible through the glass.

  “Donny, when you’re finished, the upstairs needs vacuuming. Sally has piano lessons tonight, so I want the grand to be dusted, and don’t forget the laundry tonight. Take your time folding them. I spent this morning ironing out the creases yesterday which simply will not do.”

  “Of course, Ma’am,” Donny answered, bowing his head. “Whatever you ask.”