Human Element

by AJ Powers

  “Having issues?”

  “Guess housekeeping’s on vacation.”

  “Hah!” Hadas replied sharply. “Oh, yeah. I bet this place was sparkling clean before…”

  Aaran angled his flashlight up, illuminating the path ahead. There was a nauseating coat of film covering the entire length of the walls. It almost looked like the wallpaper was sweating as the layer of sludge glistened under his LED torch. “Well, it’s still sparkling, anyway…”

  “Gag,” Hadas replied.

  Finding a relatively safe place to stay for the night almost always required some level of cringeworthy appearance, but Aaran was on a roll with choosing the trashiest of places. And as they crept down the hallway, bugs and rodents scurrying out of their path, Aaran wasn’t sure which was worse: the apartments or the creeper’s bachelor pad back at the trailer park.

  It was another tie.

  They finally reached 16B— the last door in the hall—and prepared to enter. Aaran let his carbine hang from its sling, opting for the USP. Hadas pressed the stock of her bullpup rifle into her shoulder and nodded that she was ready. Aaran opened the door and shuffled inside, quickly sweeping the living room-kitchen combo as Hadas came in just behind him. The apartment was virtually empty, and they quickly deduced that the last tenant had moved out beforehand, leaving behind a mess of soiled clothes and broken furniture for the landlord to deal with. Besides a half-eaten bag of cookies that were hard enough to break a jaw, the first apartment was a bust.

  The adjacent apartment wasn’t much better, but did yield a few useful items, including a can of fruit cocktail. Aaran was unusually excited over the discovery and found it difficult not to peel off the top of the can so he could scarf it down out in the hallway.

  Aaran got embarrassingly excited when he found a couple of comic books in the next apartment over. His initial reaction was out of his control, but he quickly reined it in as soon as he noticed Hadas’s face.

  “Comic books? Really?”

  “Well, I mean, it’s not like I collect them or anything. It’s just something to do on rainy days like today,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

  She wasn’t buying it. “Sure, sure.”

  After stashing away the printed treasures, they moved on to the next unit. Even though each of the apartments they went through had pitiful-looking pantries, their backpacks were maxed out by the time they reached the halfway point. It was more than enough to last the rest of their stay with some left over for their next leg or two of travel. Despite being fully stocked, they continued to search the other apartments in case they found something more appetizing to replace what was already in their packs.

  The last apartment they walked into—the one next to theirs—was a stark contrast to the rest. It was clean, inviting, and colorfully decorated. It looked like a place someone had proudly called their home; not just a rat’s nest to shoot up and pass out in. Hanging on the wall just over the couch was a family photo: mom, dad, two sons and a daughter. Seeing the portrait stirred up some emotions that had Aaran wanting to reach for the wallet in his backpack, but he resisted.

  He couldn’t handle that—not yet, anyway.

  In the corner of the living room was a small, plastic tree. It couldn’t have been more than four feet tall, yet dozens of ornaments were crammed onto the petite, plastic sapling. Large, glass bulbs twirled around with silver tinsel up to the top where it was met by a white angel standing guard. There were only enough gifts under the tree for each person in the family portrait to receive one. The sight was both humbling and gut-wrenching. Aaran’s family had never been considered well off by society’s standard, but his dad had worked hard to provide for the family. He’d always given them nice Christmases, even if Aaran had never fully appreciated it at the time. A wave of guilt crashed into him when he thought back to all the Christmas mornings he’d grumbled over what he got, or rather, what he hadn’t got.

  Over in the kitchen there were a few small decorative plaques with various Bible verses written on them. Plastered to the refrigerator door were countless candid photos, Crayola-masterpieces, an adorable note that read I LUV YOU MOMEE, along with a fourth-grade math quiz; a giant, red A+ at the top. The cabinets were bare, but the apartment had a lot more to offer Aaran than food…

  Perspective.

  It was clear that this family hadn’t had much in the way of worldly possessions, and yet, they seemed content, if not downright joyful, in spite of their social status. They had taken the cards dealt to them with grace, and had found reasons to smile anyway. They hadn’t had much, but had taken care of the things they had owned. Standing in the apartment with the door closed, you would never guess that the hallways outside had once been filled with drug dealers and prostitutes. It was an oasis of peace in an ocean of anarchy.

  Walking through the apartment made Aaran realize that even in such a bleak and depressing world as the one he now lived in, there were always things to be thankful for. He glanced over at Hadas, who was rummaging through a cabinet. Aaran smiled. He had only met her a short time ago, but he was thankful that he had. He had found a friend in her, and his life was better for it. He was thankful to have someone to walk by his side… Someone to watch his back.

  While Hadas debated between a can of refried beans in her pack and the can of black beans in the cabinet, Aaran ventured down the hall to the bedrooms. He glanced inside the first of the two bedrooms, immediately noticing that half the walls were painted a light blue, and the other half pink. Nestled in the corner of the two adjoining pink walls was a white and purple toddler bed, while two twin-sized beds were up against one of the blue walls. Aaran closed the door without searching the room. It just felt wrong to invade such a space.

  He turned around and opened the door to the second bedroom. His breath was stolen from him when his eyes took in the sight in front of him. He tried not to look at the body hanging from the extension cord, but he couldn’t help himself.

  The corpse was beyond decayed, with nothing more than bone showing in several areas. Looking up at the face, Aaran could see a faint resemblance to the man in the portrait out in the living room. He felt a pit in his stomach and fought off a wave of nausea. The room was clean except for a single piece of torn paper laying on the floor beneath the man’s dangling feet. He didn’t have a reason why, but Aaran felt compelled to read the note.

  Please forgive me.

  Aaran welled up with tears of sorrow and rage as his eyes moved from the paper back to the body. He jumped when he felt a reassuring touch on his shoulder. He looked over and saw the fluid dancing in her eyes as well. It felt as if all the hope and encouragement Aaran had found in the apartment was now being used to make the sting of the gruesome discovery all the more troubling to his soul.

  “You okay?” Hadas asked softly, a look of compassion in her eyes.

  He didn’t answer.

  Chapter 17

  “Hey, hold up for a sec,” Hadas said as she stopped next to a stalled-out police cruiser on the side of the four-lane road.

  “What is it?” Aaran asked, turning around to walk the few feet back to her.

  She scanned the horizon for several seconds and fiddled with the earbud, but her body was relaxed and her expression seemed relatively unconcerned. “I hear them, but they sound pretty far away,” she said as she yanked the earbud out to get a better listen to the world around her. “You see or hear anything?”

  “Not really,” Aaran replied as he peered inside the patrol car, hoping to spot something worthwhile.

  Hadas continued to survey the area, detecting nothing out of the ordinary. Except for an office complex almost directly to the east, there was nothing but asphalt and overgrown fields surrounding them for about a mile.

  “What’re ya thinking?” Aaran asked.

  She held up her watch and checked the time before nodding to their right. “Why don’t we head to those office buildings over there and take five. It’s close enough to lunch, anyhow.”

>   “Sounds good to me.”

  They veered off the road and trudged through the field of hip-high grass, angling themselves toward the row of office buildings about a half a mile off the road. The digital chatter over her earpiece increased as they approached the buildings, but only marginally. The slightly louder garble had barely registered with Hadas, giving her confidence that nobody was inside the buildings. At least, not anyone receiving orders from some sort of overlord.

  Hiding behind a delivery truck in the parking lot, Aaran and Hadas reconnoitered the office park for a few minutes before deciding to move in. They walked around two of the four buildings before finally finding an unlatched stairwell door behind the third. Normally, stumbling across a small rock propping open a door would throw up some red flags, but the overflowing ashtray next to the exit quickly eased any apprehension.

  Hadas grabbed the door and pulled it open, gesturing Aaran inside. “Ladies first.”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re implying that I am a girl,” he shot back dryly. “Real original, Hadas.”

  She mocked his response as he walked by. “Just shut up and go.”

  Aaran stepped inside and aimed his carbine up the stairs. Kicking the rock away, Hadas let the door latch behind her. Sunlight poured in from three large, evenly spaced windows going up the exterior wall, providing plenty of light for their ascent. Leaving the jokes and sarcasm outside, Aaran and Hadas moved slowly up the steps, their eyes never leaving their rifle sights as they swept for targets. Every other landing had a door with a biometric scanner next to the handle. There were no locks to pick, which meant their lunch break would be inside the stairwell.

  “Any change?” Aaran asked, pointing to her ear.

  “No. Not really,” she said, a confused look on her face.

  “Is that unusual?”

  “A little. It’s happened maybe two or three times before, but the sounds had gone away by now, the one time. And the other time…” she trailed off, stopping on a landing. “Crap, I bet you that’s it,” she said as she reached into her pocket. “The other time, the headphones came loose from the jack…” Hadas pulled the phone out of her pocket to check the connection. She had an awkward grip on the phone and it slipped out of her hand, flying up into the air. Her attempts to catch the device failed, and all she could do was gasp in horror as she watched the phone crash down thirteen steps to the concrete landing below. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape. “That did not just happen!”

  Aaran froze as Hadas stormed down the half-flight of steps, a steady flow of obscenities flying out of her mouth. She bent over and picked up the phone, wincing when she saw the disjointed image of her face on the cracked screen. She pushed the button on the side, but the pixels refused to come to life. “Ohhhh, this is bad,” she said, her voice edging toward panic. She then moved her thumb over to the top of the phone and pressed down on the power button. Several breathless seconds passed before the screen lit up. Hadas exhaled. The phone’s logo swirled around the fractured screen while the archaic device booted up. Once the phone was on the home screen, Hadas plugged the headphones back in and listened closely. Relief washed over her face, and she let out an audible “phew” when the interference trickled out of the earphones again. “Well, that could have been a lot worse,” she said as she carefully slid the phone back into her pocket.

  “Yeah, you should try to avoid doing that in the future, mmmkay?”

  Aaran’s comment produced a nasty glare from Hadas. “And you should try to avoid being a total douchebag today, mmmkay?” she replied bitterly.

  “I see how it is, you can dish it out, but—”

  “Wafer thin ice there, buddy,” she interrupted, squeezing her finger and thumb together. The moment produced a smile that she quickly suppressed before turning around to continue up the stairs.

  “So, was the headphone jack even the problem?”

  “No, actually. It still sounds the same as before,” she said, giving a puzzled shrug.

  To Aaran’s chagrin, Hadas kept climbing the stairs. He huffed behind her, falling further and further behind with each step. After what felt like a marathon, he finally reached the top. “Holy crap,” he said, pausing for a breath between the two words, “I’m glad I don’t have to do that every day.”

  Hadas nodded her agreement. She was a bit gassed herself, but nowhere near as bad off as Aaran. After recovering from the climb, they reached into their packs and pulled out lunch. Sitting on opposite sides of the top landing, Hadas leaned up against the painted concrete wall while Aaran rested against the cold steel of the roof-access door.

  Aaran held a can of sloppy joe in one hand and a can of baked beans in the other. After a moment of contemplation, Aaran dropped the sloppy joe back into the pack and peeled the lid off the baked beans. “So, what do you think you’d be doing right now if this hadn’t all happened?” Aaran asked while he stirred the contents in the can, his mouth watering over the chunks of bacon inside.

  Hadas yanked on the pull top lid of her lunch, giving a skeptical peek inside. “Well, I wouldn’t be eating canned ham, that’s for damn sure.”

  Aaran laughed, “Yeah, wouldn’t be my first choice either.”

  “Well, it’s not just that. We were kosher, so my mom would have thrown me out of the house if she knew I was eating pork. But, I suppose if you mean, ‘what were my plans in life’, then I would have to say…I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I was halfway through getting my bachelor’s degree in criminal justice when I was told that I wouldn’t be able to continue without getting the Neuroweb,” she said, her face twisted with disdain. “Even though I didn’t want to get it, and I knew my parents would all but disown me if I did, I decided that I was going to. I had actually planned on telling my mom and dad when they got home from their trip to Phoenix, but…you know…” she trailed off, not wanting to open that wound again. “Your turn.”

  “Kind of in the same boat, really. My grandfather was in the Navy. My dad, too. I had every intention of following in their footsteps, but since the Neuroweb was a requirement for all enlistees, my dad pleaded with me not to sign up.” Aaran scooped a spoonful of beans into his mouth, appreciating the rather large hunk of pork in the bite. With his words muffled by the food in his mouth, he continued. “So, I was planning on becoming a certified mechanic. Heck, I spent so much time under the hood with my dad that I was already halfway there. So, it just made sense to keep going down that path for a while.”

  “Did you like working on cars?”

  “I did—do—but it’s not what I saw myself doing for a career. But I was good at it, and it would’ve been okay money until I could figure out what I wanted to do long term.”

  “Long term…” Hadas said ironically. “I long for the days when ‘long term’ meant figuring out how you wanted to earn money in life instead of hoping to just be alive long enough to celebrate your thirtieth birthday.”

  While Aaran reflected on her legitimate, but very depressing observation, Hadas pressed the earbud deeper into her ear again. Her stare went blank, as if her brain was rerouting resources to her hearing in lieu of her sight. She slowly shook her head before looking down at her watch. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she said as she absentmindedly rubbed her forehead. She looked up at the steel door behind Aaran and noticed the lack of a biometric scanner. The handle on the door had a traditional lock, giving her a fair chance at picking it. “Let’s head up to the roof and take a look around.”

  With no reason to dispute the plan, Aaran crawled to the other side of the landing to make room for Hadas. He did a quick check on his inventory as she pulled out the pick set and got to work. By the time Aaran had zipped up his pack, she was swinging the door open.

  They stepped through the door and into a cramped, unfinished stairwell that was filled with pipes, valves, and optical fiber cables. The office was likely connected to the Nebula, so, being forced to stay in the stairwell had turned out to be a good thing for them—especially with
the current anomalous interference coming through Hadas’s earbuds. Their feet clanked off the welded aluminum staircase as they climbed up to an unlocked door at the top. They stepped out onto the roof, and a crisp, autumn breeze greeted them.

  Hadas led the way, keeping a low profile while she slowly crossed the rooftop. Aaran followed closely behind her until they reached the edge of the roof. Facing the road they had been walking on before, Aaran and Hadas scanned the area for what might be causing the interference. Directly across the road from them was a sorting facility for the post office. After several minutes of observation, they crossed the large building off the list of culprits, and scooted along the edge of the roof to gain a better vantage point of the road up ahead. Hadas pulled out a pair of binoculars and glassed a series of warehouses and manufacturing plants about a mile up the road. She slowly panned from left to right before suddenly jerking back to the left.

  “What do you see?” Aaran asked, noticing the abrupt snap in her movement.

  “I think…” she said as she handed Aaran the binos, “I found the source of our sound.”

  He aimed them in the general direction she had been looking and quickly zeroed in on the activity at a manufacturing plant. The binoculars were not particularly powerful, so it was difficult to make out the smaller details, but he was able to see several bodies moving between the five enormous buildings on the lot. He also saw a few—he assumed—Sentinels out on patrol near the perimeter of the property.

  Aaran saw distorted movement near the edge of the convex lenses he was looking through. He swung the binoculars an inch to his right and spotted the truck before the sound of its rumbling engine reached his ears. “Incoming.”

  “Yep, I’m picking it up,” Hadas said, trying to correlate the distance of the truck to the volume of the noise. She had been in similar situations a few times in the past to give her some idea of how close the enemy was based on the pitch and volume of the sound, but she had never had such an unobstructed view before.