Negative Film

by Leonard Petracci

  “And just like old times, you’re on the wrong side again,” I growled.

  “Oh, am I, SC? Do you know what happened to me after your little show in the subway?”

  I remained silent, marching forwards. We’d started to track him down but had stopped once we found Lola.

  “Police threw him in a mental ward. A sheer waste of good talent,” said the Electrospark. “A damn disappointment.”

  “He’s right! They left me to rot, declared I was insane. But Sparky here remembered our showdown, and he came to find me. Introduced me to Lacit while I was in my cell. Too bad I couldn’t shake his hand. You know why, SC?” He laughed again but never waited for me to answer, shuddering as he spoke. “Because you can’t shake hands in a straitjacket made of steel! And the medication had me drooling; that combined with the shrinks, pushing and pulling at my thoughts. Ripping and tearing them out, supplementing their own ones in. They had to get rid of the bad ones, you see? But Lacit, Lacit pulled me out of there before it was too late!”

  He gritted his teeth, his smile slightly lopsided as he looked at me, his pupils dancing.

  “Good thing, too— he found me while I was still sane!”

  Chapter 48

  “Now we’re going to walk nice and quietly to the car,” said Blake. “No false moves, no tricks. Nothing funny, or Lucio is relieved of his spine. Understood?”

  I bit my tongue, surveying the scene in front of me. We’d arrived at the front of the hotel, where flashing cop cars intermingled with a crowd of onlookers as the last civilians poured from the entrance. Smoke now trickled out through the door, and in the distance, I could hear the wailing of a fire truck approaching. On the ground were the two henchmen that had barred the door, each with a police officer’s knee in their back and handcuffs over their wrists. Another officer restrained a handful of lobby escapees that shouted at the men, their faces red as they formed rude gestures, and just barely keeping their powers under control.

  The scene was a near riot, with the officers severely outnumbered. If Blake carried through with his threat, not only would he escape, but in the confusion, others would likely be hurt if I fought back. Innocent people, people far more innocent than Larissa.

  It’d be best to wait until we reached the car, then find an opportunity to act.

  “Understood,” I responded. “Is your master Lacit waiting there to give you a treat after this?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He sneered, flinching at the word master. “Lacit’s got his own business right now, so I get to watch over you until he’s back. The two of you will make a nice surprise present. And what’s a present without ribbons? Maybe I’ll slice some off while we wait.”

  “Alright, mouths shut. That includes you, glitter boy,” said my captor, Sparky. “You can start talking tough when the mission is over. Now both of you keep walking and skirt the crowd. That’s right, even pace. Blake, take your hand off his throat, keep it against his back, nice and hidden. We’re just one big happy family getting back into their car after a stroll. Both of you are getting in the back seats, and Blake will sit between you. You’ll hold hands with him, and by that, I mean you’ll be holding knives. The car is the black four-door. We’re going to walk directly towards it. No meandering.”

  The afternoon sun reflected off the car windows and into our eyes as we passed halfway through the crowd. The majority of backs were towards us, the focus on the center. Ahead, the car was fifty meters away and closing, with only streetlights and empty pavement between us and the doors.

  In my mind, an image flashed like a memory, and I recognized Lucio’s touch as he materialized before me.

  “SC, listen,” he said, and I recognized the background of the rehabilitation facility behind him. “If we get into that car, we’re toast! You need to run off— they won’t kill me; they’ll need to use me as bait to get you back.”

  Pushing the memory away, I shook my head, but it returned, insistent.

  “I can’t touch his mind, SC. Whatever they did to him, it’s like scrambled eggs in there. My power is useless, it’s like trying to make music out of radio static. You hear me? I can’t add any memories to Blake, but I can still do it to Sparky. That’ll buy you time.”

  I shook my head again, just enough for Lucio to notice. There had to be another option rather than letting him sacrifice himself for me. I just had to find it.

  “What do we do then!” he shouted in my memory, tearing out his hair by the roots and holding tufts of it in his hands. “Going with them is not an option. We have to get away. Unless, unless you already have a plan? Tell me you already have a plan?”

  Focusing both upon Lucio’s memories and the real world nearly caused me to trip, especially with my throbbing head. But I nodded, the lie much easier without meeting his eyes and without words.

  “Oh, good,” my memory said, fading as the voice turned to relief. “Really had me scared there. Here I was thinking we would just surrender! I’m ready to act; just give the signal. Well, any signal!”

  I nearly ran into the street pole ahead as I listened, and dodged left, while Lucio split right. And for a second, I thought I had tripped again as I stumbled forwards, my face careening towards the ground. But as I impacted concrete for the second time that day, gasping as Lucio skidded down next to me, I realized we had been shoved off our feet. Instinct took over as I rolled, coming face up just in time to see a thin metal chain whipping out of thin air to cross over Sparky’s chest, tightening a chain that already crossed over Blake’s torso. But at their shoulder and waist height, the links disappeared, sliding through an invisible hole in space like a grommet.

  “Get it off me,” shouted Blake, thrashing as his body turned full diamond, his skin sparking where it struck steel. But the chain held, and whenever he pulled forwards, Sparky was yanked backwards, the links sharing an invisible connection.

  “Run, you halfwits!” shouted Lola’s voice out of nowhere, as Lucio and I scrambled to our feet. By now, the crowd beside us had turned from the commotion, their expressions confused as they saw two figures fighting suspended chains that appeared attached to nothing.

  “No you don’t!” shouted Sparky as I took my first steps, and he raised his hand, pointing his finger at me as blue energy gathered around him. Sparks leapt off his skin as he pushed his power into a single lightning bolt prepared to vaporize me, and he unleashed it in a surge that made the streetlight above shatter. I threw up a black orb, preparing to absorb the energy, and hoping my power would pull in electricity like flames.

  But instead, Blake started to scream as the metal chains wrapped around Sparky absorbed the charge, outbursts of electricity glowing along his diamond skin and erupting into corona discharges.

  “Stop!” he begged as Sparky released his power, and the electricity faded, the chain white-hot from where it had borne the lightning, and Sparky’s shouts joined his as the heat traveled back towards the chains that held him in place, charring his clothes as the fabric turned to smoke and singeing the skin. But by now, Lucio and I were far out of range and widening the distance with each step. As we passed the car, I cast an orb through the engine block, blowing the hood clean off the exterior as the insides ripped themselves apart. And in seconds, we rounded a corner, where two figures emerged from the darkness and took us from under our armpits.

  Lucio shrieked as we streaked into the air, Arial smacking him as he tried to struggle out of her grasp, then turned limp as the ground rapidly faded away. Close behind them, Darian carried me, his flight pattern far more subject to sways than Arial, feeling like an airplane flying through heavy turbulence.

  “Sorry, SC!” he shouted over the wind. “I really shouldn’t be carrying you, but we needed to get you out of there, stat! Besides, Arial said that if I mess up, you have a better chance of being able to fly than Lucio!”

  Chapter 49

  We alighted on a low rooftop of a family grocery store several blocks away, next to where Slugger guarded o
ur belongings by a rusted air-conditioning unit that whined with displeasure at the heat.

  “Thank God!” Lucio cried as his feet touched down, running forwards to grab the camera from the top of the mound, flipping open the case to check the lens. He sighed with relief as he inspected it, and behind him, Arial shook her head.

  “You’re welcome,” Arial said and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, have you ever been taught manners by anyone? We’re going to need to put you through etiquette school.”

  “Thank you, Arial,” I said, then turned to Darian, my balance still slightly off from the flight. “And you too, Darian. Thought we were done for back there.”

  “I thought you had a plan?” Lucio asked, and I shrugged.

  “I hoped for the best!” I said then pointed at Darian and Arial. “So we’re lucky we have the best.”

  We waited for Lola as she made her way through the other side. Arial smoothed out her shirt, grimacing at where Lucio had stretched out the fabric, and rubbed the dirt off the sides of her white sneakers. She frowned when the rubber failed to brighten past a dull brown, eventually giving up to rummage in her bag, pulling out several energy bars and some bottled water.

  “Not much of a dinner, but it’ll have to do for now,” she said, spreading them out over the luggage and swatting Lucio’s hand away when he tried to take two. “But what I wouldn’t give for some air-conditioning. I'm sweating through my shirt.”

  Lola popped out of space a few minutes later, suspiciously close to Lucio, who nearly choked on his energy bar.

  “You just watch,” he said, pointing a shaking finger at her. “If you’re trying to pull pranks, you’re messing with the wrong person. I'm an expert.”

  “Me? A prank? Never,” she said, smiling sweetly while taking a swig of water from our rapidly diminishing supply. “If I desired competition, I would seek an individual of matching intelligence. Besides, I advise that you become used to my power— you’re only going to see more of it where we’re going. Or maybe you won’t see it,” she continued, dropping her voice to a whisper and leaning inward. “But it’ll be there. All around you.”

  “Just like there could be Invisibles or mole people,” countered Arial, rolling her eyes. “Who knows, maybe there’s even another other side!”

  “There isn’t,” Lola said, raising her hand in the air with the air of someone withholding information. “There’s just the one.”

  “And how would you possibly know that?” challenged Aral, gathering her hair up from her shoulders and tying it in a ponytail to try to combat the heat.

  “The mathematical duality; theoretically, more than one would be highly unstable. The odds would be highly against it.”

  “So there could be,” Arial said, picking at her.

  “Theoretically,” Lola started, her tone turning to that of a lecturer. “But the odds are astronomically infinitesimal, so small—”

  “Enough,” I said, breaking into the conversation. “We’re not here to argue; we’re here to stop Lacit. And now we know he’s here in force— not only with his own men, but the remains of Siri’s. It means they’re serious, and it means we’ll be heavily outnumbered. Not only that, but we’re now at a disadvantage because they know we’re here, we have nowhere to stay, and we have no guide.”

  “But on the bright side, Blake got the shock therapy he deserves,” said Lucio. “How exactly did that work anyways?”

  “Darian found the chain, then I took it to the other side and waited near the light post you passed,” said Lola. “I gave it a loop around the post on the other side, then after I pushed you both down, I wrapped it around them both. Sort of like sewing our worlds together and trapping them between.”

  “Wouldn’t that give them access to the other side?” asked Darian. “I can't imagine that would be good. It would be twice as difficult to find them.”

  “Things stuck between the worlds tend not to last long, so that chain would have rusted through in a few minutes after I left,” said Lola. “They’re definitely free by now, and the hole resealed.”

  “Good. Last thing we need is Blake having the ability to pop around like you can,” I said. “Something tells me he wouldn’t be as responsible with the power. Now the next question remains— how are we going to find a guide now? Lola, you said that the black market had options?”

  “Bad ones. Ones that are just as likely to get us killed than help us through.”

  “Well, you’re lucky, because I have just the solution!” said Lucio, rummaging through his pockets, then smiling as he raised a card in the air. “The first guide left this, so all we have to do is call him. Or better yet, we pay him a visit— there’s a address on here. He never saw what happened at the hotel, so he won’t have a reason to be suspicious.”

  “Sounds like a lead,” I said, taking the card and examining it.

  Leonidas Sines

  1493 Ponce Circle

  Specialty Services

  “We’ll need to split up. Half of us to check for the guide, the other half to guard our stuff. But first, let’s wait for things to cool off in the streets.”

  We rested, watching the sun start to descend in the sky. From her bag, Arial rummaged around for a packet of powder, then ripped it open.

  “What’s that?” Lola asked as Arial emptied it into lukewarm water.

  “Instant coffee,” Arial responded. “In other words, a tragedy to support a caffeine addiction.”

  “Oh, you’ll have to try some of the varieties here!” said Lola. “Some of the best strains, though the wild ones are supposed to be the best in the world. Better than anything you can find on a shelf.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Arial said, grimacing as she took a sip. “Everything around here just seems perfect.”

  Chapter 50

  The door was ancient— solid wood that thudded as I knocked on it, so hard that it resisted any sound at all. From its center, a massive knot peered out at us, holding us in disdain as we waited on the doorstep that was purposefully left without a welcome mat. Stretching around the sides of the house was paneling that appeared to be from wood of the same tree, including the window shutters and the roofing tiles.

  I knocked again, peering over my back towards the street— few occupied it this far from the city center, but there were those who could be watching. Inside, the sound echoed, but there was no response.

  “Lola,” I said, positioning myself and Lucio to give her cover from the street. “Want to check the inside? See if anyone is home?”

  “Can’t,” she said, extending her own hand to knock against the wood. “Solid both here and the other side. Whoever built this knew what they were doing.”

  “So whoever’s inside knows about the other side?” I asked.

  “Correlation, not causation. I said whoever built this knows, not who lives in it. They’re probably dead by now. Something like this is not made quickly— it would take many years.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Lucio. “Why couldn’t you just pour some concrete over there?”

  “I thought you said you didn’t like learning,” Lola huffed. “Think of it like this. The other side and our world are linked together. But it’s not instant— it takes time, and during that time, objects pass between them. They flow into each other— put something on our side long enough, and it forms a shadow there. As it becomes unstable here, that shadow is strengthened. The worlds hate differences between them, and therefore destroy dissimilarities. And if the dissimilarity can’t be destroyed, they repel.”

  “Well, that makes no sense,” Lucio complained, his expression blank.

  “Remember how the concrete was soft in the tunnel? That’s because it had started to age on our side, and the other side was adopting it. But if that concrete resisted change, if it was kept in prime condition, then the other side would naturally push against it. It would be filled with something like air, or water, or something that pushes back against concrete essence.” She rapped on the door again, dra
wing our attention to the wood. “This door is old. And the wood here is aged, long enough that there is too much that has flowed to the other side for me to pass through. If there was just a bit, I could dance between worlds and still pass. But instead, it’s solid.”

  “And that’s why the person who made this is likely dead,” I said. “Because it’s been here for years.”

  “Precisely, SC. Now, if this door were a place of power, one that had existed for quite some time, the other side would repel. For instance, magma would make a lake or fire ice. Or rock would make air.” She rapped the door again to illustrate the point, and we fell silent as we heard something moving inside. Then the door cracked, and two bleary eyes stared at us from the darkness.

  “Is it too damn much to ask for an afternoon nap without—” he started, then his face lit up in recognition as he stepped out into the light, revealing himself to be Leonidas, our first guide. “Oh, it’s you! I’d been hoping you’d come by. Glad you survived— felt some real nasty business coming back there.”

  “You— you knew we were about to be attacked?” I stammered, remembering his quick exit, and how he had practically thrust his card on Lucio.

  “Of course! I’m a Survivalist worth more than a few pennies— I could smell the danger miles off! But that’s what makes this interesting, no? Where there’s danger, there’s usually something at play. Something valuable. And as a man of employment, value is exactly what I seek. But come in, come in, wouldn’t want you on the street! Danger is far off, but that’s no reason not to extend a welcome invitation.”

  He thrust the door open, revealing a room lit entirely by artificial light, paneled with the same wood that had covered the outside of the building. We stepped onto hardwood floors cool to the touch after removing our shoes, a merciful sensation after the heat of the day. Around us were rows upon rows of shelves, only half of them full, and littered with carefully organized objects tagged with small slips of paper. There were taxidermied animals, everything from a rodent slightly smaller than a squirrel to a jaguar that snarled at us from the corner, its black fur erect along its back, the eyes unaware of its death. Strange jars of liquid hosted floating objects in another corner, each a dull color and just dark enough to discern shapes that made my skin prickle.