by Len Melvin
They came to an empty lot and huddled together. Malouf raised his arm and motioned toward a wooded area covered with rugged brush that was adjacent to the empty lot. The others followed him into the woods. Beaux stood about thirty yards from them in a darkened area beside a bush, concealed in the shadows. Once inside the woods, the blue men became still and Beaux sensed that they had settled in, waiting on something.
She pulled out her phone, cupped her hand around the emanating light and checked the time. She should be at work. She looked from the phone to the blue men waiting in the forest and back to her phone. She put the phone away and sat on the ground. I’m going to find out what’s going on, she thought.
Malouf put one knee to the ground and brought the backpack from his shoulder. He pulled out a small white cloth bag, pulled the drawstrings open and deposited the contents onto the ground. Even in the dark the gold garment shone bright.
“You know how to wear this?” Malouf murmured to one of the men.
“Move quietly and slowly.”
“Yeah, and remember this is just the first meeting. We think,” he added. “So you’re not to push things. This is more or less a scouting mission. Now if you can get in, do it, but only if you’re sure.”
He nodded in the darkness. “Yes, Sir.”
“Okay.” Malouf held his gaze on the man, a tone of doubt in his voice. He still didn’t trust these guys. Their judgment was off; their actions, sometimes too analytical and predictable. Sometimes the situation called for good old common sense.
“Someone’s coming,” one of the guys said.
“Quiet,” Malouf whispered. He stood and peeked through a gap in the canvas of foliage that separated them from the empty lot.
A hooded figure crept down the path they had just come, casting an occasional glance back over his shoulder.
It was almost time. Malouf stepped back, grabbed the garment from the ground, and handed it to his waiting companion. “Put it on.”
The man found the opening, stepped into it, bent, and pulled the garment up over his body. As he pulled, he faded from view until until only his face was visible. Malouf grabbed the top, pulled it over the man’s head and positioned a mesh opening in front of his eyes.
The man disappeared from sight.
“Everything okay?” Malouf asked. “Can you see?”
“Yes,” the man said, his voice muffled.
“Okay,” Malouf whispered. “Now we wait.”
◆◆◆
Beaux pushed up from the ground, brushed leaves from her clothes, careful that her actions didn’t draw attention to herself. This was tiresome. More than thirty minutes had passed and nothing was happening. They were just standing around in the woods.
All of a sudden one of the blue lights went out. There had been five and now there were only four. She rubbed her eyes and squinted through the darkness. Maybe one of them had stepped behind a tree.
A man approaching from the direction of the street took her attention from the blue men and she turned and watched as a hooded figure moved to the end of the lot and stopped. He brought a cigarette he held behind a cupped hand to his mouth. The cigarette flared for an instant before he hid it again.
Just as the man dropped his hand, another figure, also wearing a mask, appeared from the back of the lot. Two more seemed to arrive out of nowhere, suddenly popping out of the darkness and joining the others. Two others came from the university, each moving silently up opposite sides of the street. They all stood in a rough circle, waiting in hooded silence. A slight figure approached, toes pointed inward as she moved in a stealthy manner toward the assembled group. She wore dark yoga pants, wrapped tight around toned, muscular thighs and carried herself with a sense of belligerence. A tassel of blonde dreadlocks fell from beneath the mask, across strong, taut shoulders as she circled the group, appearing wary, as if she were sizing them up.
A slight movement to Beaux’s right startled her and she drew a quick breath. A man stood maybe ten yards from her in the shadow of a tree, his face uncovered as he watched the gathered assemblage. She put a hand over her mouth and wondered how she had not heard his approach. He stepped out of the shadow, gazed up at the sky and seemed to breathe out in annoyance. He had dark hair with intermittent, grey flecks that were cut close to the scalp and that ran uninterrupted into sideburns that widened at their ends. He had an angular jaw and a strong straight nose with nostrils that flared at the ends over a thin, black mustache. He wore a black sweatshirt and jeans and stood with his legs apart as if measuring his ground. He appeared middle-aged and Beaux sensed he was the leader.
◆◆◆
The full moon shone down on Connor McCown and he cursed under his breath. He should have planned for that. In front of him, a group of masked figures stood exposed in the light of the moon. Not a good way to begin.
He stepped back into the shadow of a tree, pulled a ski mask from his backpack, and brought it over his head. He adjusted it, pulling it to and fro until the eye slits were configured with his eyes. He paused, taking a moment to ready himself for the gigantic undertaking that lay ahead and then stepped out from under the tree and toward the group of people huddled in front of the entrance. As he approached they parted and waited. He pulled a key from his pocket. “Looks like everyone is here?”
“Yeah,” a muffled voice said through the slit of her ski mask, “and we were on time.”
Connor looked at the slight figure, the only girl in the group and smiled beneath his mask. Leave it to Cori to give him shit. He had recruited them all but only she knew who he was. He issued a grunt of acknowledgement, then turned to the rest of the group. “Now, none of you know any of the others and we’re gonna keep it like that.” He held the key up. “Let’s go inside and we will talk about everything we are about to do.” He got on his knees, searched in the darkness for a moment and then pushed aside a rock. He pushed dirt away with several brushes of a hand across the ground and a metallic sheen appeared. He inserted the key into a lock that had become exposed and turned it. Tumblers clicked in a cumbersome manner and then Connor pulled on a metal door.
“Can I get some help here?” Several of them moved forward. “Over there.” He pointed to the top edge of the door. “Pull that corner up.” He motioned to another figure. “Down over there.” Another man moved to where he was directed and then the others moved to help. Everyone got their hands under the edge of the door and pulled upward. Gradually, the dirt and plants on top fell to the side and the door began to ease open. One final pull and the door turned all the way over exposing a narrow flight of wooden stairs. The group stood around the opening and peered down into the darkness.
“What is this?” one of the men asked.
“It’s the entrance to a cavern,” Connor said.
“A cavern?” someone asked.
“You ever been down in there?” another asked.
“A couple of times, but it’s been a while.” Connor got to his feet and dusted off his hands. “There’s a light just inside to the left at the bottom. “Here goes.” He put a foot on the first step and held out both hands feeling for the walls.
As he reached for the next step a sudden flash of light, golden in hue, enveloped them for an instant and then disappeared as quickly as it had come. Connor covered his eyes and then blinked his eyes rapidly as he tried to readjust to the darkness after the flash of light. “What was that?”
A sharp, cracking noise sounded from the shadows of the woods. Everyone turned, some dipping their knees in reflexive alarm. Connor stepped back off the step and onto the ground, a slow creak emitting from the board. Cori was in a crouching position, her hand on the Zombie Knife she kept tucked into her belt. “What was that?” Connor asked again in a whisper.
“Not sure,” one of the group finally answered.
A cloud moved across the moon and the darkness intensified. “Let’s get underground,” Connor said. “Now,” he ordered. “You first,” he touched the nearest figure to him on t
he back. “Then you,” he grabbed another by a sleeve. The men hesitated, then carefully descended down the stairs. Connor continued to scan the darkness, for any movement until only he and Cori were left. “Now you,” he said.
Cori crept down the stairs, carefully feeling her way. Connor waited for a moment, the creaking and moaning of the stairs indicating the progress of the others. He waited for Cori to reach the bottom and then he began a quick descent down the stairs.
After one last look out into the darkness, he grabbed the door by its handle and eased it shut.
◆◆◆
Beaux edged forward to try to see better. It looked like the figures were going to go down into the black space. All of a sudden, a gleam of golden light covered the group for an instant so that the figures were frozen as if in a strobe light. The gold light was gone as soon as it had appeared leaving only a sparkle-like effect in the air, that dissipated after a moment. The figures appeared startled and they tensed in apprehension.
She took a deep breath, stepped back into the shadow and onto the edge of a branch, breaking it off at its tip. “Damn,” she uttered between clenched teeth. She held her breath, knelt in the shadow and stayed still. The figures turned in tandem and stared in her direction. They were still for a moment and then moved down into the black space.
There was the sound of a door closing and she let out a deep breath of relief. She looked to where the blue-lighted men were and she noticed there were five again. They emerged from the woods and Beaux saw the light blue outline hesitate, look in her direction and start walking toward her. Beaux rose to her feet, turned and ran.
Chapter Four
“What happened out there?” Cori gripped the handle of her Zombie Knife. What was that light? And that noise?”
“I don’t know.” Connor glanced at the ladder they had just descended and took a deep breath. He wiped perspiration from his brow. “I don’t know,” he repeated, “the noise might have been an animal but I have no idea what that flash of light was.”
“Well, that was a little fucked up.” Cori took her hand off the knife.
“I know,” he muttered, then turned his attention to the rest of the group. “Okay, this is the cavern and it’s going to be our base. This is where we are going to do what we all came here to do.”
“And what is that?” one of the figures asked.
Connor crossed the room and flipped a light switch. A number of laptops lined a wall and he moved down the row, flipping each on as he passed. Above each laptop was a small monitor emitting images from different cameras. Some images were of long hallways and others reflected solitary scenes of sidewalks, empty fields and different buildings. A table sat in the middle of the room with a map spread across it.
“That’s Fondren Hall.” Cori pointed to a building on one of the monitors. “And that’s a walkway near the Student Union.” She looked at Connor. “What’s up with this? I want to know now before we go further. What’s going on?”
Connor ignored her and instead crossed the room to a green nylon fabric covering an uneven array of objects. With a flourish, he grabbed a corner of the fabric and pulled it back.
“Wow,” one of the men exclaimed.
“Man, that’s a lot of weapons you got there.”
“Are those AK-47s?” another asked.
“And AR-15s,” one of the men pointed down at the pile.
“And where exactly are we?” the man who had been smoking the cigarette earlier asked.
“We’re in a cavern.” Connor stepped in front of the cache of weapons. “There are seven corridors that leave this room. Each one comes out at different places on the campus across the street. There are locks on each exit way that can be locked and unlocked from inside. These corridors are unknown to all but us and the man who brought us together.”
“And who had them constructed?” one of the men asked.
“You mean discovered. It really doesn’t matter.” Connor said. “You all could maybe figure it out but I’m not gonna say his name out loud. He told me just to refer to him as ‘The Professor.’ All of you were selected by him and fully vetted and I’m sure knowing his politics and all, well, anyway,” Connor trailed off. “Well, anyway, this is all his doing.”
“Okay, so you got the weapons, the underground bat cave and computers and cameras.” Cori took a step forward. “And, apparently, like-minded people.” She nodded at the others. She stepped over to the pile of weapons and picked up an AR-15, then brought it to her shoulder and pointed it at a wall. She squinted through the sights and then placed the butt of the rifle on the dirt floor. “So now what?”
“Well,” Connor hesitated. Each masked face waited expectantly. Connor exhaled, then continued. “The President himself is coming.”
“Here?” one of the men asked.
“Where?” Cori asked.
Connor nodded at the monitor that held the image of Fondren Hall. “There.”
“How do you know?” another asked.
“I haven’t heard that,” one of the men in the back said.
“When?” Cori asked.
Connor took the rifle from Cori and placed it on top of the pile and then pulled the green fabric back over the weapons. He studied the group for a long moment, giving everyone time to grasp the situation he had presented them.
When no one spoke, he fixed his gaze on Cori. “He’s coming. And not only him but most of the leadership. They’re all coming here soon.” Connor waved a hand at the computer screen behind her. “They’re all going to be right there in front of Fondren Hall.”
Connor studied each masked face in turn, the dim light in the cavern and their silence making them difficult to read. “The goal here, is to rid this country of him and the leadership. Now, nobody here knows who you are except for me and I’m not ever gonna say. If someone wants out, now is the time to go. I won’t hold it against you. Especially after what just happened. That would scare anyone, considering what we are about to do. Everybody still in?”
The room filled with low, guttural murmurs as each masked head moved slowly up and down in assent.
“Okay,” Connor relaxed. “Okay. Some rules.” He held up a solitary finger. “No names. Ever. I’m Number One.” He nodded to the figure at his far left. “Count off. You’re Number Two.” The figures counted off numbers until they reached Number Eight. “Those numbers are your names now. I want you to spray-paint those numbers on the top of your masks. Rule number two is we never take the masks off. Never,” Connor emphasized, his voice rising. “And from now on we wear gloves at all times. I’ll have some for you so you don’t have to bring them. Three, you’re to talk about this with no one. No one,” he repeated, the words slow and accentuated. “Not wives, girlfriends or your priest or lawyer. One word could get us all killed. And if we’re caught you might get the person who knew about it killed too. Now, the man who chose you, I trust implicitly, so I’m going to trust you. Okay?”
The hooded figures moved their heads in a slow up and down motion.
“We’re going to meet here two or three times in the next week and practice how we’re gonna do it. Anybody gonna have trouble getting away that much?” Everyone nodded. “Okay, there are burner phones for you on the table by the exit. Grab one when you leave. That’s how we’re going to communicate from now on.” Connor crossed the room and grabbed a scroll and took it to the table in the center the room. He unrolled the scroll and spread it the length of the table.
“Come here,” he motioned to them with his hand and they gathered around the table. Connor grabbed a marker, stood over the map and began to draw. “This is the general plan.”
◆◆◆
Malouf strode the length of the room and then stopped abruptly. He pointed a finger at one of his companions. “You said you knew how to wear the cloak.”
“I do. It’s just been a while. I wasn’t used to it.”
“Well, practice. ‘It’s been a while’ isn’t good enough. You could have caused them t
o back out of what they’re about to do.” Malouf’s voice rose as he spoke. “You want to be the one responsible for changing history?”
“No, Sir.”
Malouf scowled at the man. “It’s dangerous enough for those guys to be doing what they’re doing without you scaring the shit out of them.” Malouf unzipped the backpack, pulled out the gold cloak and held it up. “Remember,” he thrust the cloak into his face, “you have to move slow in this or it’s going to flash and then everyone’s going to get freaked out. Understand?”
“Understood, Sir.”
Malouf threw the cloak on the bed. “Okay, practice a while. I’m gonna get something to eat.” Malouf opened the door. “Meet me in the restaurant when you guys are ready.”
◆◆◆
Malouf sat on the bar stool next to Bobby and motioned to Bobby’s Bud Light when the bartender approached. “No chess tonight?”
Bobby lowered the newspaper he was reading. “Sorry?”
“We met last night. You were playing chess with Beaux.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Bobby held up his bottle to Mae Helen as she approached with Malouf’s beer.
“You trying to run me tonight?” Mae Helen set the Bud Light in front of Malouf and pushed her glasses on top of her head. She glared at Bobby. “You going to order in shifts? I could’a got two at the same time now I got to go all the way back to the cooler.” She turned to go get another Bud Light. “I tell, you, sometimes…” and the rest of the sentence was lost as she trudged to the cooler.
“Sorry, Mae Helen,” Bobby called after her. Mae Helen responded with a dismissive wave of a hand.
“So, no chess tonight?” Malouf asked again.
