by Jon Sauve
For all he knew, he could be out on the street again, crawling his way toward the edge. He turned a random ninety degrees and moved slowly, feeling along, until he touched a wall. Then he moved along it to the left until he found a corner. It bent inward, which meant he was still inside.
Max must have seen where he went. So he just had to wait until they got him.
There was a crackling sound, and for a moment he thought he was about to hear the captain’s voice, or Leena’s.
There were no words, no talking. The static broke occasionally in strange guttural moans, like a man screaming as some horrible machine transformed him into one of its own.
“Radio off!” he said. “Radio off, radio off!”
The command finally went through. The sound vanished, and with it the tint on his face shield. The light on his suit came back on as well, or it had been on for some time. He was balanced on his fingertips, his head a few inches away from a wall that seemed covered in black mold.
His suit showed normal function. He planted his feet and stood up.
“Radio on,” he said with some reluctance. There were no sounds. “Captain, come in.”
“Russ!” came the welcome response. “Are you alright, is your suit good?”
“Yes and yes,” Russ said, reaching out to touch the wall. “Whatever Carlene tells you about what happened in that upstairs hallway, she isn’t lying. The same thing just grabbed me.”
“You’re in the third house on the left,” Max said. “Which room are you in? Can you find your way out?”
Russ turned around. “I’m in the…”
The shadow of someone was cast before him on the wall. He looked down. The light was on his chest. He passed his hand over it. The shadow flickered in the play of light, but otherwise stayed still.
“…basement,” Russ finally said.
“She did it.” The voice was clearer now. Clear enough that its identity was no longer in doubt. “He put her down here, until-”
“Augie?” Max said. “Russ, you heard that? Augie, where are you?”
The video feed must have cut off before Max could see what Russ had. The empty suit, the binoculars.
The shadow moved, dashing along the wall, growing and shrinking before it finally vanished. In fear, Russ moved not an inch. When the shadow was gone, he moved toward the door.
“Gotta get out of here,” he said. “Captain, I gotta get the hell out of here.”
Max said nothing. Either the radio had gone out again, or Max was busy with some sudden revelation. Either way, Russ needed to be back at the ship and on his way home.
He didn’t detach at the stairs. He held firmly to the banister and climbed, refusing to look behind him. Towards the top, he increased his pace.
There was something under his boot. He looked down. On the floor, a single piece of paper enclosed in a plastic bag. It looked like a news headline. Russ put his back to the wall and read it aloud, in case the captain was still listening.
“‘Alleged child killer released. The date… March 20th, 2002. Local woman, Fortuna Cadigan, has been having a rough month.
“I’ve never considered myself a lover of children,” the 62-year-old told us. “But this is plain ridiculous.”
On March the 2nd, she was brought into the Private Pass Police Department as a suspect in the killing of four-year-old...’ The name is illegible. ‘New evidence has come to light to at least vindicate Mrs. Cadigan, and she was allowed to return home earlier today.’”
Russ looked down the hall both ways. The living area on his left, and the study area on his right, were both empty.
“It was…” This time the voice was different, female, highly distorted. “It was her… Karl, you never… there were six left in the…”
Russ went into the living room. To his right, shoved into a corner, there was a toy box for a very young child. The plastic was eaten away, and it was empty.
“…in if you hear me, Russ.”
“Captain,” he said. “I hear you.”
“Finally. I’m using my suit radio. Something must be wrong with the one in the cockpit. Are you alright?”
“Alright,” Russ said. “I’m making my way out. We should have listened to you earlier. We need to get out of here.”
The response was not what Russ expected. The captain laughed, and said, “Should have caught me when I was still in a chicken-out mood, Russ. I’m coming out with Leena and Carlene now. We’re searching those last houses, and we’re getting everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re bringing everything we find back to the ship, and back to Triple P. This is our mission, our glory. We’re not handing it to some big crew that’s used to getting all the good work and accolades. So, get your behind into the street. Leena will be with you. I expect every inch of that house to be scoured.”
Russ moved toward the kitchen. “Augie…”
“I didn’t see it at first,” Max said, his voice expressionless. “I went to see to Leena, but I came back and went back through the feed. Right before your suit went out. I saw.”
Russ tried not remember.
“Shouldn’t we stay in one big group?” he said.
“Leena and Augie were together when… whatever,” Max replied. “I don’t think we’re safe, no matter what. Now, when we were on our way out here a few hours ago, if I would have said this mission would be dangerous then, you would have spat on the floor.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Let’s get done fast, and get home fast. We’ll meet you in the street.”
In five minutes they had joined together. Their radios were set to hear all transmissions from one another. Leena was hooked on to Russ, Carlene to Max; now they could never get more than five feet away from one another without feeling it.
“Alright, we’re good,” Max said, giving the OK sign with his hand. “Russ, Leena?”
“Aye, sir,” said Leena. Her voice was shaking.
“Aye,” Russ said. He put a bold arm around Leena’s waist and tugged her to him. That made her smile a bit. “On your mark, sir.”
Max nodded, his pale blue eyes catching the light from the suits. “Let’s get to it,” he said. “I’ll give us ninety minutes, no more.”
They split off. 1st Expedition, which Russ was a part of, headed back into the home where Russ thought he had seen a shadow move. 2nd went into the first house on the other side of the street. Russ paused, looking at those two houses. They seemed taller, skinnier… different, like they’d been slapped together by entirely different hands, working under entirely different minds.
“This is it,” Russ said, to no one in particular.
“Just another ninety minutes,” Leena said, sounding like she’d just gotten out of a cold shower.
“I’ve spent worse ninety-minutes before,” Russ said, heading into the house and trying to keep his voice cheery.
“Not with me, though,” Leena said.
Russ smiled. “No, I guess not.”
“Are you alright?” she asked. “After what happened?”
“Yeah. Fine. With you here, I’m just fine. Come a little closer, will you?”
She did so, and they scoped the kitchen a little more carefully. They almost didn’t see the loose tile, until Russ’s toe kicked it up. There was a little compartment underneath. Leena reached in and grabbed out a little plastic bag. Inside were six tiny hexagons with some gibberish printed on them.
“Pills?” he said.
Leena released the bag and stepped back. She made a little frightened chirping sound.
Russ grabbed the bag and looked at it again. “What’s wrong?”
“I… don’t know,” she said. “Just felt a bit wrong for a second, like I was picking up a stranger’s baby, or something.”
“You would drop a baby like that?” Russ chuckled, sliding the bag into the large compartment hanging at his belt that Max had brought out to him. “There, I tucked them away. Let’s go.”
I
n the living room, the toy box had drifted a bit higher up the wall. They would get it on the way out. Russ went to check underneath it.
“…took them, Tertia, I…”
Russ looked around. Leena had frozen solid, her eyes rolling around the room.
“What was that?” she said.
“What was what?” Max said. “You two flirting? I heard that much. Keep moving.”
“More interference,” Russ said.
“…hid them before you…”
The new voice was terrible. There was something familiar about it, but it was like no one he could remember. Russ tried to block it out.
“Ignore it,” he told Leena. “Just echoes.”
That seemed to satisfy her to some degree. They went into the study.
“Russ, where are you two now?” Max asked.
“Last room on ground floor, captain.”
“This house is pretty bare,” Max added. “We’re going upstairs to search the bedrooms.”
“Aye, sir. See you in… eighty-five minutes.”
The study was empty, but there was one curious thing. In the other houses, there had been one window in this room. But here, two smaller windows were separated by three feet of bare wall.
“Upstairs,” Russ said.
They went. Leena had to stop to breathe and calm herself halfway up.
“I can’t take this,” she said. “I don’t like this place, it feels really bad.”
Russ touched her arm. “Hey, I don’t like it either, Leena. But I need you here to keep me strong, alright? Just having you behind me makes me feel like I could rip this whole house out of the ground and throw it all the way to Pluto.”
She sniffed, nodding slowly to herself, her eyes closed.
“Maybe you should go in front?” Russ suggested. “That way, maybe you’d feel strong too.”
He reached out and guided her along. She took a deep breath and went up, leading Russ by the link they shared.
“…she… she… she…”
Leena slowed down, her shoulders hunching up. Russ gently prodded her along.
“… she did it… you… you... not your…. not your fault…”
“Oh, shut up,” Carlene said. “Just shut the hell up.”
“Ms. Fullam,” Max said, “keep your head in it.”
Leena steadied herself and kept on.
Before she and Russ had reached the top of the stairs, a great shudder ran through the floor. They grabbed the banister, and the shaking nearly wrenched it from their grip.
“Captain,” Russ said. “Something’s happening.”
“I feel it, a little vibration under my boots.”
“Full on tooth-rattling over here,” Russ replied.
“Where are you?”
“Three steps from the top.”
“Get to a window and take a look around. Maybe she’s coming to life finally.”
Leena drove herself on, even faster. She yanked herself into the bedroom on her right, and Russ stepped up behind her.
An instant feeling of vertigo hit him. The houses on the other side of the street – he could see Max and Carlene’s suit lights coming out a second floor window – were tilting away from him. Or rather, the house he and Leena stood in was tilting away. He looked down at the crusted, death-dry earth that was crumbling under them.
He grabbed the link, turned, and started back to the stairs at top speed. Leena had seen too. Static had exploded over Russ’s radio, but he could make out her sobs as she chased him.
“Russ,” came another voice. Max. “Russ, get the hell out of-”
Russ detached and swam downstairs. Had he made a mistake? Could they have jumped from that window? No, no, he didn’t think so. The break was forming around five or six feet from the front door. Too far.
Halfway down, he felt the last thing he wanted to feel; a tug on the link. He looked back. Leena was struggling, her face twisted in horror as she came after him.
“Tuck in, Leena!” he screamed, trying to be heard over the static. But it had gotten louder. “TUCK IN!”
He reattached at the bottom and rounded the corner into the living area. Through the windows, he saw that the house was now hanging at a forty-five degree angle to rest of the street. He started cursing, but he couldn’t even hear himself anymore.
Leena started tugging at him again. She was falling behind, and he had to slow down for her. The house kept falling… falling…
He could carry her. But they were nearly at the door now. Just a few more feet.
By some miracle, he thought he heard Leena somewhere inside the static.
“I’m so sorry,” she was saying. “I’m so sorry.”
Russ reached the door, took a step out, and turned back. His link was at full stretch. Leena was at the end, her boots off the floor, her face shield tinted. Her hand reached slowly and detached the link from her suit.
“No,” Russ said. No one heard it.
The house kept falling. Russ looked toward the stretch. There seemed to be no hope. The edge of the street hung eight feet above his head.
Leena was gone.
Russ moved at top speed, bent his knees, detached his boots, shoved with all his might. He went up, and his hands found the edge. He vaulted, sailing head over heels, flipping. For a moment he thought he had jumped too hard, and he was just going to fly all the way over the houses across the street.
He eventually struck a wall. He looked to his right, his vision spinning. Empty space that way. To his left, he saw a house. The house Max and Carlene had gone into.
When he looked up, he saw how close he had come. The shallow slant of the roof began inches from the top of his head.
He bent his ankles downward, then pushed carefully off the wall. The boots attached, and his body whipped around perpendicular to the wall. He took it all the way to the street, then stretched one foot out in front to contact the ground and reorient himself.
In the chaos, he hadn’t realized that the static had cleared from his radio. It seemed like Max or Carlene would have said something by now.
“Come in,” he said, but either his radio was out again or they were having their own problems. Nothing met him but silence.
He started heading toward the house, but stopped. He looked over to where the ground had fallen away into space. He went over and looked down. The house had gone fast, almost as if it had its own propulsion, and was barely visible now. Even if he went back to the ship, even if he knew how to fly it, by then the house would be gone – like trying to find a grain of sand in a shopping mall.
Thoughts began to torment him, whether he could have done more.
He fought his doubts and went to the house where Max and Carlene were. They should be coming out any second, hollering in their helmets even if Russ couldn’t hear. By the time he reached the door, they still hadn’t shown.
He went in and searched the ground floor. No one was there, so he went upstairs.
In the bedroom, the one from which he had seen lights shining, an empty suit lay on the floor, face-up. He read the name; Captain Max Valleis.
Slowly, in despair, Russ returned to the street. He stared up at the last house, the second on the right. As he watched, a light flashed past a ground floor window.
Top speed, into the entrance. The house was built differently, a long hall leading into larger, open rooms.
“Whatever you say, Karl.”
For an instant, relief flooded into Russ. It was the captain, no doubt about it.
But it wasn’t. Just an echo.
“She didn’t do it.” This time, it sounded like Augie. “None of it was your fault. Maybe it was me…”
“A million years old,” said the voice that sounded like Max. “All this is a million years old… And none of them ever figured it out…”
Russ passed by a picture that had managed to stay on the wall, then turned back in shock to look at it. The colors had faded; an old woman, holding a baby. Smiling. Russ touched the picture
, and a tattered note fell out from behind it.
He unfolded it gently and read.
“If I rigged this right, this painting will still be here after an earthquake, and way after I’m dead and gone. And this note will be found hopefully by someone who has no idea who I am or what’s happening to me as I write it. But maybe that’s too optimistic.
So, here I will confess. It will be hard to write, but I promised myself to tell it all. I’m too much a coward to speak it in life, so the next best thing is for someone to read it when I’m gone. It must be told, and maybe some redemption might finally reach my soul.
First, I didn’t mean to do any of it. Second, even the foundation of the story is embarrassing and awful beyond belief.
I love that Dr. Ryan. So much that I hate him. I loved him from the first time, when I saw him moving furniture into his house. Indirectly because of him, I found myself jailed. Because of him, I ignored my faithful, loyal husband, even when he was dying in pain and calling for me. I always came to give him his medicine, but I was never truly there for him, in his last days when he needed my love most.
Karl Ryan was health, he was strength, he was immortality. I was insane, and I thought he could give those things to me.
My life fell apart. Finally, I realized I’m sick of waiting around being old. I’ll die on my own time, and I hope to cause myself incredible pain before I go.
Mr. Ryan invited me over to miss Araneta’s house. He is treating me on the anniversary of my husband’s death. Trying to make me feel better. There are some leftover drugs that I can take. The plan is to swallow them before I go in, and hopefully I will die there at the dinner table.
I cannot hope to explain the reasoning to anyone, but I don’t feel as if I should have to. It is my death, and I choose when and where and how.
Just so no one forgets me completely, my name is Fortuna Cadigan. I live in Private Pass, Arkansas, but you probably already know that.”
Karl shoved the note in his bag and moved on.
“Carlene?” he said, in case his radio was working again.
A light flashed into the hall further down, and was gone again. Russ went to where he had seen it. Here was a door, the only solid door except the one on De Acosta’s basement. He opened it.
