by Adam Matlow
Marcus nodded. It was worth a try, and although he had discovered he could be injured in here, he doubted Vana could. She had initiated the joining, if they were in any real danger Marcus had to believe she would pull them out of it.
Marcus started his act. He yelled as if he was in pain - which wasn’t entirely untrue. He begged for his life and offered to surrender. Vana had slipped around the other side of the rock and vanished into the darkness. The shooting stopped. Peeking around from the rock, Marcus could see Amara walking towards him. He kept up the act, hoping the noise would cover Vana’s approach.
Before he knew it, Amara was standing over him. She raised a pistol and aimed it at him. In that instant, a sword plunged through Amara and exploded out of her chest. The expression on her face didn’t change at all. It was if she didn’t feel it. Amara dropped the gun and vanished, revealing Vana, the sword still thrust out.
“That was close,” he said. “Good timing.”
“I can feel her getting weaker,” said Vana. “We’ve almost got her.”
Marcus groaned. “I was hoping we’d finished her off for good.”
“So where now,” asked Vana. They looked around them. The only thing in the immediate area was the truck they had used when searching for Vana.
“I guess we take the truck,” said Marcus, jogging over to it. He looked in the window - the keys were in the ignition. They both climbed in and slammed the doors. In an instant they were no longer in the truck but were now somewhere Marcus didn’t recognise.
They were in a dark room. In the centre was a table, with a spotlight above it. Everything else was black. On the table lay Amara. The real Amara - not the imposter they had been fighting until now.
Marcus felt strange, as if he was looking through someone else’s eyes at the scene in front of him. He tried to say something, but couldn’t speak. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He became aware that Vana was stood next to him. She was talking to him, but she sounded muffled - as if she was in another room, shouting through a wall.
His heart thumped in his chest. No matter what he did he couldn’t move or speak. He screamed out in his mind, trying to break free. He tried to will himself out of this prison as he had the chair earlier, but to no avail.
Vana had become aware something was wrong. She was shaking his shoulder, trying to get him to respond. It was as if she was a million miles away - every sensation dulled by a vast distance.
Marcus could feel himself move. Vana was stood in front of him, and he saw himself reach out and put his hand on her shoulders. She looked back at him and smiled - she spoke, but the words were meaningless to him.
Suddenly his arm shot out, grabbed her throat and squeezed. Marcus screamed in his head to stop, but he couldn’t, he wasn’t in control. Vana struggled, but she was no match for his strength. All he could do was watch as the life was squeezed out of her.
Vana reached out her hands and placed them on Marcus’s head. He realised she wasn’t trying to hurt him, she was trying to help. Somehow, he felt stronger. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he willed himself to release his grip on Vana. He felt his grip slacken, it wasn’t much - a crack in the Armor of whoever was controlling him, but it was a crack he could exploit. He continued to fight, and as he did so he felt himself regain more and more control until he had released Vana altogether, and was now staggering around the dark room, fighting for control of his own body. Suddenly he was back. He looked over at Vana who was on the floor panting and rubbing her neck, a large bruise starting to show where his fingers had been wrapped.
In front of them the imposter stood, weakened. Her face showed emotion for the first time, a mixture of confusion and fear. Marcus walked up towards her, his fists clenched, his blood boiling with anger at having been forced to watch as he almost killed Vana. He swung his fist at the imposter as hard as he could, and as his hand connected with her jaw the image of her exploded into a thousand silver fragments, before evaporating into nothingness.
“Good riddance,” he spat.
He ran over to Vana who was struggling to get up.
“Are you okay?” he asked, checking her injuries. “I think you’re going to be fine.”
“Let’s not do that again,” said Vana hoarsely.
“I’m sorry,” said Marcus. “I couldn’t control myself, I don’t know what happened.”
“It was the implant fighting back. We hurt her badly at the truck, she needed to hide somewhere. She chose you.”
“But how?”
“The implant in your head. It may not be as damaged as Doc thought it was. After we beat her at the campsite she fled to the only place left available to her.”
“I never want to feel like that again. Powerless. Forced to watch. I could have killed you.”
“She’s gone Marcus, we beat her.”
Amara, the real Amara had gotten out from the bed and was standing over them. He jumped up ready to fight.
“No, wait,” said Vana, grabbing his arm.
Without saying a word Amara turned and started walking away from them. They followed her as she walked across the room and towards a faint outline of light. It was the door they had seen earlier. As they approached it, the door became more defined, until it stood in front of them, plain as day.
Amara pushed it open and walked through.
They did the same.
◆◆◆
They stood in the middle of a long hallway. Grey concrete walls stretched into the distance and fluorescent lights lined the ceiling. Amara was standing a few meters in front of them, guarding a door. Her appearance had changed, her hair was tied back her face was flat and emotionless. She carried a weapon and was standing silently next to another guard. Several people wandered up and down the corridor, yet nobody paid them any attention.
“They can’t see us, can they?” said Marcus as he waved his hand in front of someone walking past him, only for them to ignore him. At one point someone walked right through him as if he wasn’t there, which sent shivers down his spine.
“This is Amara’s memory and we’re outside observers. We’re not part of the memory so nothing we do here will change anything. We’ll have to follow her and hope she can lead us to the information we need.” Vana took in the scene. “Do you recognise this place?” she asked Marcus.
“If I had to guess, I’d say this is the bunker he uses as his headquarters in The Forge. We’re clearly underground, there’re no windows and I can see an elevator at the end of the corridor.”
“This door she’s guarding, it must be something important, otherwise why does Davon have her protecting it.”
The door opened, Amara and the other guard snapped to attention as Davon marched out from behind it. Marcus peered in through the open door, but saw only blackness. The door snapped shut and Davon headed up the corridor, flanked by Amara. The second guard remained at the door.
“I didn’t see anything in there, only darkness,” said Marcus.
“Probably because Amara couldn’t see into the room. Remember, we can only see what she saw. She was facing away from the door when it opened, and she never turned to look in. Davon probably has them conditioned to behave like that.”
The corridor around them started to go dim and fade out.
Vana grabbed Marcus by the hand and jogged up the corridor, keeping up with Davon and Amara.
They followed him around for what seemed like hours as he went about his business. It became clear they were indeed in his headquarters in The Forge and security down here was tight. From what little they could see of him, Davon was extremely paranoid and liked to know in minute detail everything that was going on around him. He seemed particularly concerned with a group of scientists and engineers who were busy conducting some sort of experiment.
Evidently, things were not going as smoothly as hoped and Davon was starting to become impatient. Unfortunately, they could only gather small snippets of information as most of the conversations Davon had appeared muf
fled - as if everyone was talking underwater. Vana told him this was due to Amara either not understanding what she heard, or simply ignoring most of it - which of course meant they too were unable to hear it. However, several keywords did seem to jump out. Words such as ‘implant’ and ‘population’ and the word ‘experiment’ was used a great many times, much to Marcus’s unease.
Finally, when they had just about given up hope Davon was going to reveal any information, he entered a large room on the opposite side of the bunker complex. He approached a door and opened it.
“Bring me the latest prospect,” he said before slamming the door shut.
This came through loud and clear. Amara proceeded to march up several corridors before coming to a room, again guarded by several unflinching guards. She entered without a word.
Inside the room was what looked like a hospital bed. In it lay a man, connected to various machines which appeared to be monitoring his condition. It looked like he had recently undergone surgery, fresh blood stained his gowns and he had stitches in the side of his head.
Marcus reached up and rubbed the scar on his head. Was this where he was taken before? Was this how he got his implant? Nothing about this place seemed familiar, but then again it could be simply that he couldn’t remember. He was happy to keep it that way.
The man appeared comatose. He was disconnected from the machines and helped from the bed by Amara, who placed him into a nearby wheelchair and rolled him back out of the door.
They returned to the door Davon had entered, and as they approached it opened. Marcus followed Amara closely as she walked into the room. It was only small with a desk at one end, with a computer and various bits of paperwork upon it. There was a large luxurious looking chair behind the desk and on the far wall an elevator. The man in the wheelchair slumped forward and drooled onto the floor.
“Is this the best you can do?” said Davon. Apparently, it was a rhetorical question. Amara pushed the wheelchair-bound man into the elevator at the end of the room and turned around to leave.
“I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said as he climbed into the elevator and pushed a button. The doors slid closed and Amara left the room.
Everything faded to black and Marcus and Vana found themselves alone once more in the darkness.
“Is that it?” asked Marcus.
“I think I know what we need to do now,” said Vana. “That room he was just in, it must lead to his ship.”
“Make sense,” said Marcus. “And with all this wandering about that we’ve been doing, I think I have a pretty good feel for the layout of the place and of some of the security measures we’re going to have to deal with.”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Vana, once again taking his hand. She closed her eyes and Marcus felt compelled to do the same. There was the sensation of falling once again and the various beeps and whirs from the medical equipment in the room. Marcus blinked his eyes in the bright light of the medical room. He felt dizzy and steadied himself on the bed. Doc had rushed over to check on them and was shining a light into his eyes.
“Cut it out Doc, I’m fine,” he said butting the light away. “Just a bit of a headache that’s all.”
“What went wrong?” Doc asked, studying the monitors hooked up to Amara.
“What do you mean? Everything was fine, we got what we needed,” replied Marcus.
“But you were only under for a few seconds.”
“A few seconds? More like a few hours.”
Vana had regained some composure, the effect of the joining appeared to have been harder on her. “Time doesn’t really mean much when you’re joined,” she said.
“Astonishing,” said Doc, scribbling notes into a small pad.
“Well I don’t know about you, but I need a break. Oh, and something for my head.”
They made Amara comfortable, disconnected her from all the machines and allowed her to sleep. “She’ll be out of it for a few hours,” said Doc. “It sounds like it was a productive exercise?”
Marcus nodded. “It was,” he said. “We saw where Davon has been taking people. To some room - it’s the only place where Amara wasn’t allowed to go. He must be keeping something special in there. It has to lead to his ship.”
“Sounds pretty flimsy to me,” said Doc. “Did you actually see it?”
“Well, no… But its gotta be there Doc. What else could it be?”
“We know next to nothing about him. It could lead to his ship, or it could lead nowhere. You could be walking into a trap.”
“We still haven’t figured that part out yet,” said Marcus. “Until we do, we won’t be walking into anywhere.”
“I can get you in.”
The voice came from behind Marcus, from the doorway. Kali stood leaning up against the frame.”
“Look who finally showed up,” said Marcus. “And here I was starting to think you didn’t care.”
“I’m not saying I believe everything that is happening, but something’s not quite right. I can get us into the Forge.”
“How exactly?” asked Vana.
“I’ve been working a contact. Someone inside the Legion.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” said Marcus. “Can we trust this contact of yours?”
“This guy’s new. I’ve been laying the groundwork for months. Ordinarily I wouldn’t dream of using an asset like this before they have been properly vetted - but it doesn’t look like we have a choice here. Deliveries come in and out of The Forge regularly. We can intercept one of them and use it to get inside the walls. We’ll arrange for my contact to be on duty, he’ll pass us through security. Then, it’s up to you.”
“Well then,” said Marcus. “This sounds like the makings of a plan.”
Chapter Thirteen
The reinforced concrete walls of The Forge towered above the stolen truck Marcus now hid in the back of. Razor sharp wire to discourage climbing ran along the length of the wall and armed guards stood vigilant in guard towers. If anyone managed to climb the wall, they’d have the guards to deal with. Marcus peeked through a tear in the fabric covering the rear of the truck and whistled in awe.
“This guy has some next level paranoia going on here,” he said. “Is it too late to change my mind and go home?”
“Keep it down,” murmured Kali. “And stay out of sight. We’re almost at the checkpoint.”
Vana sat and whispered to Jax who sat in the palm of her hand. Jax projected screen after screen of alien text and images into the air just above him, which Vana would visually scan for a few seconds before moving onto the next.
The truck rattled to a stop at the main gates, and the engine sputtered to a stop. A guard approached the cab and Kali lowered the driver’s side window to talk to him. Paperwork passed back and forth between the two before the guard turned his attention to the rear of the truck.
“I need to check in the back,” he declared.
“Sure, go right ahead,” replied Kali, her arm hanging from the window as she watched him make his way to the rear of the vehicle.
“Shit,” whispered Marcus. “Something’s wrong.”
The back of the truck opened, and a flashlight shone across the contents. Marcus and Vana froze to the spot, concealed behind crates, stacked to hide their presence. Marcus held his breath. The guard climbed in and pulled the fabric back over the entrance.
“It’s alright,” the guard whispered. “You can come out.”
Marcus didn't move, his eyes darted to Kali’s through the tear in the fabric, and she slowly nodded back at him. Cautiously, he edged out into view, Vana followed a few seconds later.
The guard reached into his jacket, causing Marcus to flinch, expecting a weapon to be drawn. Instead, a package was produced and tossed over to him.
“Here, you’re gonna need these,” said the guard quietly.
Marcus unwrapped the package and unfolded several wrinkled and stained Legion uniforms. The aroma of stale sweat assaulted his nostrils and he
turned his face away in disgust.
“Would it have killed you to have washed them first?” whispered Marcus. He kept them at arm's length as he separated the clothing into piles.
The guard glared at him.
Perhaps it would have killed him to wash them.
The guard backed slowly from the truck. “Now get out of here, and for god’s sake hurry up. If they see me here with you then I’m dead,” he said.
“Cool it Harry,” whispered Kali through the thin fabric separating the back from the cab. “Otherwise you’re gonna get us all killed.”
“The guard looked around nervously. “Do you know what I had to do to get put on this detail? I wasn’t supposed to be on gate duty for another month. They sounded suspicious when I requested the assignment.”
“What did you say to them?” asked Marcus.
“I told them I needed the money. Gambling.”
“Nice cover story.”
“Who said anything about it being a cover? I can tell you I don’t like the odds on this one. Too much can go wrong and very little in it for me. If I were you I’d pack it in now and leave.”
Heavy booted footsteps from outside approached the truck. “What’s going on back there?” came a shout.
“Shit,” said Harry. “Get back there and don’t move. I’ll wave you through.”
“Wait,” said Kali between gritted teeth. She remained perfectly still and stared ahead so as not to alert the second guard. “What about our ID badges?”
“I couldn’t get them. You’ll have to make do with the uniforms.”
“Then how are we supposed to--”
“That’s your problem,” muttered Harry under his breath.
He jumped from the back of the truck and headed off the second guard who was creeping ever closer.
“Goddammit,” huffed Kali to herself, whilst trying to maintain her composure.
“It’s fine,” came the voice of Harry, who had stopped the other guard in his tracks. “Just checking the cargo against the manifest. Everything is in order.” He pushed a button to raise the barrier and waved the truck through. Kali started the engine and slowly crept the truck past. She shot Harry a scowl as she passed him. Harry did everything he could to avoid looking in her direction.
