by Jade White
“The capital,” he replied. He closed his eyes, remembering that long and arduous journey. He had gotten that far. He had been only some meager, two-bit thug, hired by a mafia dude, and then he’d been plucked from the shadows to fight in the WereGames. He was glad Sarah hadn’t heard about his fight. “Excuse me,” he suddenly said, standing up.
“Where-” She was cut off as he walked away. Had she asked too much? Was he annoyed by her? He was tired, she told herself. She fought the urge to run after him, just to tell him he needed to eat, and that leftovers were what he was still getting later on.
Ryker’s brain was hurting, and he hoped it was just a forming headache. He didn’t want to shift here, not when he was vulnerable and in pain. It would render him an out-of-control specie. He walked for his small bunk, a bunk temporarily assigned to him until further tests were done. He had told them flat-out that he didn’t want to be tested on – that he had had enough from Caledon’s experiments.
That knowledge alone was a goldmine for the community, the Alaska Tribe as they called themselves informally. Every time people saw him, they would crane their necks in interest; it was as if they waited for him to shift, just for their peace of mind. He hadn’t spoken to the leader yet, whomever he was; he just waited. What could he say? That Alexia was some expensive experiment and that she had mutations no one else did? They would probably end up using her just like Caledon’s people did… no one could be trusted anymore, even that young lady who had approached him. What was her name? Sarah, yes, Sarah.
Even her sincerity was questionable; despite the fact that she had probably taken care of him for most of the time he had been unconscious. Waking up had been both a blessing and a curse. In dreams, he saw Alexia all the time, and awake, he still thought of her. The only good outcome from finally getting up was that he could actively think of ways to save Alexia.
Only thing was, he had no idea where they had taken her. Where? Back to the capital? The lab was blown to bits. Perhaps, another lab? Where would he start looking? They could be anywhere in the country; they could be underground like he was. They could be closer to the capital or closer to the deserts—or they could still be here, in Alaska.
He took a breath; what if she was? She could be—he closed his eyes and stood up, suddenly eager to talk to the head, whomever it was. They hadn’t told him who it was, yet. They had only given him ground rules. This was banned, and every morning he had to present himself to be accounted for. It was to keep things in order, they’d told him. Ryker knew it was to check and double-check for possible traitors, only they wouldn’t say it.
They had been trying to survive as he had as a boy, except they’d had each other and he’d had no one back then. He walked toward a hallway, its pipes exposed above, and he tried to remember how to get to the military section of the complex. It was a maze, he realized, losing his sense of direction after ten minutes. All of the hallways looked the same.
“You lost?” a voice interrupted him.
Ryker looked up to see a gentleman wearing an identical smock as the rest of the community. Ryker nodded once. “Yes, I am, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me sir,” he said amiably. “I’m just another ordinary citizen in this free state.”
“Alaska is free?” Ryker looked confused.
The older man grinned. He looked to be past sixty years old, but his eyes were still sharp, and they blazed with intelligence. “Underground Alaska is. Tell me, what’s your name?”
There was something authoritative, yet kind, with the man’s voice that prompted Ryker to tell him immediately. “Ryker, Ryker Locklear.”
“Where you off to, young man?”
“The military section. Well, to whomever handles this place. I need to speak to them; it’s for something important.”
“I can go with you,” the old man said. “In fact, I’m heading there myself.”
Ryker thanked the man as they walked down another confusingly identical hallway. “How do you know where we’re going? There aren’t any signs,” Ryker commented.
“If you’ve been here long enough, you know things. We don’t put up signs in the event of an attack. That way, our escape routes can’t be traced too easily.”
Ryker nodded, and then he realized he didn’t know the old man’s name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Leopold,” the old man replied.
“Leopold,” Ryker repeated, nodding.
“So, Locklear. That sounds pretty unique.”
“My parents were actually Native Americans,” Ryker told him.
“You don’t look like it,” Leopold said, looking at the young man carefully. He was a dead ringer for someone he once knew, with the same icy blue eyes and blonde hair. The young man was covered in faded scars and fading bruises. He was a tall boy, taller than most in the community. He couldn’t quite place the boy’s accent. It seemed he had grown up in various states.
“I- well, they adopted me early on,” Ryker hesitated. He hated admitting that he didn’t look like them, even if he wanted to.
“Ah,” Leopold said. “And your birth parents?”
Ryker shrugged. “Never met them. Maybe they died,” he said without feeling. He had long thought his family had abandoned him after knowing he was a werebeing.
“Well, this community can serve as your family, if you’d let it,” Leopold told him warmly.
“I-” Ryker paused, not knowing what to say. He just nodded. He didn’t want to say his gratitude for fear of sounding stiff.
“I didn’t mean to scare you there, young man,” he said. “We haven’t had a newcomer in such a long time.”
“You don’t even know what I am,” Ryker responded.
“Is that why you wanted to go to the military zone? To tell them what you are?” Leopold asked.
“I don’t need to; I think a lot of you know what I am.”
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Leopold’s voice trailed off. “I can sense it off of you, that’s about it.”
“It’s overwhelming to be surrounded by this many werebeings,” Ryker suddenly said as they rode an elevator going down. “How many floors are in this place?” he asked, marveling at how deep they must have gone; and yet he could still breathe in oxygen without a struggle.
“Deep enough, I assure you,” Leopold told him.
“What do you do here? The girl- Sarah, Sarah mentioned everyone plays a part here.”
He nodded. “It’s a tight community, and everyone is responsible for something. I do planning and logistics.”
“For what?”
“A lot of things. How are you feeling? Do you need to shift?”
Ryker shook his head. “Just a bit banged up, but I’m fine. I don’t think it’s a good idea to shift inside and this deep.”
“We have a containment room, but if you’re a large werebeing, I’d suggest you shift above ground for good measure.”
“I’m not-” he stopped. He was probably larger than most here, unless there was another werebear on the premises. He took a breath just as the elevator came to a halt.
“We’re only a kilometer or so below sea level. Nothing to be alarmed about.”
“How did you manage to build something like this without Caledon finding out? And the military’s everywhere in Alaska, right?”
“They’re not checking the right places. This is no man’s land, and it has stayed that way for a while. I’m not as old as you think I am,” Leopold joked. He saw the confused look on Ryker’s face. “This has been in progress for a hundred years. I wasn’t even born yet when this project began. It was meant as a secret military project for President Auberon. He was right to think that the Caledons wanted to oust him. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it in time,” he said.
Leopold looked sad saying those words. It was as if he had been there.
“What about sensors?” Ryker asked. “Surely they can detect-” “Why do you think we chose Alaska in the first place?” Leopol
d smiled lightly. “There’s only so much technology can do against natural elements.”
Something told Ryker that Leopold was more than what he said he was. “How many years-?”
“Since the 1900s, this bunker has been slowly expanding, so it’s been more than a hundred years,” Leopold told him as they walked down a darker hallway. Ryker noticed the walls began to take on a darker shade of gray, nearing black.
Leopold swiped an identification card on his right, and the doors hissed open. “Ah, here we are.”
As soon as they stepped in, the crowd beneath them grew silent. All the men and woman stood up to salute them, or salute Leopold. Ryker frowned, confused at first, then realization dawned on him that Leopold was the head of the community.
“You didn’t tell me,” Ryker sputtered out as they continued to walk down a flight of steel stairs.
Leopold smiled at him. “What for?”
“I might have been careless-”
“You were a gentleman every step of the way,” Leopold told him. “Just like your father and your grandfather.”
CHAPTER THREE
“My what?” Ryker whispered.
Leopold beckoned for Ryker to follow him. “This way. We have much to talk about.”
“Much” was an understatement. A thousand questions began to form in his mind, some incoherent and some relevant. He followed the leader of the Alaska Tribe into a small room which actually served as his office. It was no White House office for sure, with its drab second-hand looking furniture, all monochrome, like their day-to-day outfits.
“What’s going on?” Ryker demanded.
Leopold beckoned for him to sit down. “Which part are you concerned about?”
“Which part am I concerned about?” Ryker frowned. “Everything. What the hell is going on? You knew me, and yet you never made any effort for me to recognize you?”
“You wouldn’t remember a thing, Ryker Auberon.”
“Aub- what?”
“If you’d had the chance to read the tainted history of our country, you’d have seen Antony Auberon’s name in the books. He was a supposed tyrant, and Caledon stepped in to save the country, which is total bollocks,” Leopold said.
“This is total crap,” Ryker snapped. “I’m the son of Philip and Raven Locklear-”“If I may interrupt, those names mean nothing to me, save for the fact that they were kind to raise you as an orphan and treat you like their own.”
“They were my parents,” Ryker said.
“Your parents were Elizabeth Vanderbilt and James Antony Auberon,” Leopold interjected. “James was the grandson of Antony, your great-grandfather, who was betrayed by his vice president.”
Ryker closed his eyes, trying to digest what was going on. “You mean my great-grandfather was president of the United States?”
“Yes.”
“And Robert Caledon had him killed?”
“Not just your great grandfather, Ryker. Robert Caledon had explicit orders to have your entire family hunted down, and those connected to him. I served your grandfather before he was assassinated. I lost my whole family for my loyalty to the Auberon administration.”
“He could have just let us go-”
“Not when Caledon had some beef to settle. No one wanted him president, and your great-grandfather didn’t want to be accused of nepotism. Everyone wanted your grandfather, Louis, to run for president. It was how the people wanted it, when the werebeings were observed and not yet experimented on.”
“We didn’t hide back then,” Ryker said. “Well, they didn’t.”
“We didn’t, that is correct,” Leopold said. “While we were a mysterious kind of human, the important thing was, President Antony treated everyone the same, whether normal human or werebeing, and that was something that caused significant friction with Robert Caledon. Your great-grandfather would have gladly resigned, but he was forced to do so in humiliation, as expected from a Caledon. Your family ended up as refugees, along with mine, and they killed Antony while Antony made sure to keep his family safe.”
“And my father and mother?” Ryker asked, unable to believe he was a former president’s great-grandson. He was a damned Auberon, a hated name according to the history books; Caledon hated him. Was that why Philip and Raven had been killed? To exact more revenge on the Auberons? They no longer had power, so why was Caledon hell-bent on destroying every last one of them? This was no claim to the throne; it was just a presidency, for heaven’s sake.
“They were supposed to head here. We were to rendezvous somewhere, and yet they never made it. That was when we thought we’d lost the last Auberon heir. You have no idea how terribly loved you were by Elizabeth and James,” Leopold was looking at him wistfully, as if Ryker was his own grandson.
“We had little to no contact with the other werebeings in the country. In fact, I think you thought this was all some urban legend.”
“I thought of it as a refuge of fairytale proportions,” Ryker told him. “You were here all along, and yet thousands of other werebeings are out there. I was alone for years. I ate out of trash bins, I beat people up for someone else’s money, I was forced to join the goddamned WereGames, and you all were here, comfortable in your fear!”
Leopold held up a hand. “First and foremost, control your temper. I wouldn’t want you to shift here.”
“I’m not your resident,” Ryker said, feeling his head throb a little. Blood had begun to pound in his brain, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to control his anger.
“But you are the great-grandson of a former U.S. president.”
“How in the hell did you know who I was?” Ryker asked him.
“The eyes, that face shape-”
“Which could have been anyone-”
“That scar on your upper left eyebrow,” Leopold told him mildly. “You shifted as baby, no violence needed. You were probably hungry or stressed, but you made an adorable werebear as far as my memory serves me.”
Ryker began to curse. “You knew! You knew the whole time! What else have you been keeping from me, you-”
“Your grandfather was one, but his son wasn’t. His grandson became one. That was the reason why your great-grandfather wanted to work with the werebeings – he saw the need for the public to be educated, that we’re just like any others, and we pose as much harm as the next errant human. We’re still human, Ryker, and your great-grandfather saw to that.
“Now, I have been looking for you for a long time, and I thought I’d die before seeing you again. I let your mother and father down, and your grandfather died before he himself could see you. I was given that privilege. While this country is not a monarchy, your great-grandfather and even your grandfather, who was a senator, were well-loved by the people. They reached into the hearts of many, and loyalty came naturally to them. It wasn’t forced; it wasn’t a product of brainwashing or torture. That was the power the Auberons had; that was the charm your family wielded.”
Ryker shook his head, still incensed at the sudden revelation. Philip and Raven were his real parents, not some long-dead politically affiliated family. “I still don’t believe any of this.”
“You have every right not to,” Leopold said, rummaging through his cabinet. He carefully placed a manila envelope in front of Ryker. “Open it.”
Ryker was wary, but his hands held onto the envelope. He saw photos inside in varying stages of color; some had begun to yellow, and some were significantly faded. He slowly looked at these, holding each photo with two hands to stop himself from shaking.
“Tell me, have you had any dreams you couldn’t explain?”
“We all have dreams,” Ryker said through gritted teeth.
“As of late? Were you injected with many so-called ‘vitamins’ as a child?” the older man asked Ryker.
Ryker shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is, they took me into that damned game, and I won by sheer luck-”
“Or capability.”
“Luck,” Ryker corrected him. �
�I was against weretigers and werefoxes and-”
“And yet you won. I should be careful not to mess around with you. I was your father’s guardian of sorts, while your grandfather tried to amass his own military to launch a strike against Caledon. We lost you when you were five years old. Do you remember where you were when you were five?”
Ryker’s hands shook as he stared at the photos. It was something vague, yet he knew it was lurking in the darkest corners of his mind. There were memories there, long thrown away, to be forgotten completely by him. He didn’t need someone to come into his life to shake things up, to make him remember painful incidents. He could hear someone’s voice at the back of his mind, some woman’s soothing voice, telling him it was going to be okay…
Ryker let go of the photos, unable to believe he was the little boy in them. “That can’t be me. You’re messing with my head,” Ryker gasped.
“You think I’d invite you to come into this community without at least making sure who you were?”
“I was buried underneath tons of snow, and you, if you were watching, you let my friend be taken-”
“Yes, who was she?”
“A friend,” he said. “Someone I saved from the lab.”
“Which Sector is it going to be this time?” Leopold asked wryly. “I remember I got to hear of Sector 2.”
“It’s 13 now, I think. Or maybe they didn’t put up another after I set it on fire.”
“And the others?”
Ryker closed his eyes, remembering there were countless others inside that lab, some completely innocent. “I hope they’re still alive,” his voice faltered.
“That’s why we’re in hiding, Ryker. We want our kind alive. In less than two hundred years of existence in this country, Caledon plans to wipe us all out, or control us with his science and military might.”
“I want no part in this. I just want to get away and get my friend back.”
Leopold leaned forward. “What if I’d like to help you? I want you to get this friend back.”
“What’s in it for you?”
