by Natalie Reid
Tom turned away from the window, his attention fully fixed on the man in front of him.
“But if you somehow manage to find her,” Ritter added, jabbing a finger on Tom’s chest, “You do not bring her here. I won’t let you take her within a league of my daughter, else I will kill both you and Jessie myself. Are we clear?”
“Ritter, just tell me—”
“Are we clear?”
Tom gave an exasperated sigh and nodded his head. “Yes!”
“Good. The place you’re looking for is between the north and east ends on Axel Street. There is a shack there. Go inside and pick up the phone on the wall.”
* * *
Kenji placed a steaming bowl of Ramen in front of the man with the dark eye. There was something strange about this man. A kind of fidgeting darkness that caused his hands to twitch and his eyes to dart about the restaurant in suspicious glances. Kenji remembered seeing him before, when his eyes were clear and blue and his demeanor was calm and amiable. Ash, he had called himself. This hardly seemed like the same man. Though Kenji hated to suspect his customer of violent intentions, he kept a close eye on him as he stood in the center of his restaurant, cleaning a table.
“Hey! Hey you!” a customer shouted out to Kenji.
Kenji turned, but still kept the corner of his eye fixed on Ash in the corner.
“These all say the same thing!” the customer complained.
Kenji briefly looked down at the customer to see he was holding the broken remains of a fortune cookie. He had started to hand out these cookies two weeks ago. His grandfather had told him of them when he was a boy. Though they weren’t Japanese, his customers didn’t know that. In fact, half of them still suspected that he had made the country up.
Holding up the little strip of white paper inside, the angry customer read out, “You will soon visit an old friend. I’ve gotten the same fortune three times already! And guess what? No old friend!”
“Maybe you keep getting it because it has yet to come true,” Kenji remarked wisely.
The man grumbled something under his breath and then jabbed his finger at the slip of paper. “And what the rack are all these little numbers on the bottom? Four, zero, one, two, nine, zero. They’re on all of them!”
Kenji returned his gaze to the corner. “Only a fool complains about a free gift.”
The man stared disdainfully at a shard of the cookie, and then plopped it in his mouth, deciding to forget about the matter.
The front door to the restaurant opened, and Ash flinched as a customer strode past him. The newcomer noticed this, and stopped to see if he was okay.
“You alright there, buddy?” he asked. There was something in his voice that made his words sound less like a polite inquiry, and more like a confrontation.
Ash clung tightly to his bowl, holding it in front of him like it was both a shield and a weapon.
“Sir?” the customer asked, taking a step closer.
“Why don’t you have a seat over here?” Kenji suggested, quickly weaving through the tables towards him.
The man held up his hand, not dissuaded from his quest. “No,” he shook his head. “There’s something wrong with him. Look at his eye. I saw it on someone else, right before they turned Bandit.”
A woman eating nearby put down her fork, the food stalled in her mouth in silent terror.
“Could you please keep it down,” Kenji whispered, throwing the woman a reassuring smile and a wave.
“You want me to stay silent when you have a potential Bandit in your restaurant?” the man whispered back.
“Well he’s not a Bandit yet, and he has a right to eat just as much as you do. If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to stay here.”
Ash caught their staring and gripped his fork, slamming the prongs into the table.
“That’s it. I’m calling Task Force.” The man reached for his tablet, but as he did so, Ash rose to his feet.
“You have darkness in you,” he hissed. “I can see it. It hangs over your shoulder like a rope waiting to strangle.”
The man glanced at his shoulder a moment, as if to reassure himself that there was no evil shadow there about to pounce.
A few feet away, a woman stared up at the scene, whispering, “He can see the Black!”
“Do I have it in me?” a young man asked, standing up at the far end of the restaurant.
“I don’t have it, do I?” another asked.
Ash swiveled his head between both customers. The two young men stood there stiffly, as if waiting for a death sentence to be passed down.
“This is ridiculous,” the man standing next to Kenji exclaimed. “He can’t see anything! He’s going mad!”
Kenji ignored him and slowly walked up to Ash. “How are you able to see it?”
He tapped a finger to his right eye. “A gift from Task Force. They’re handing them out like candy in the east-end.”
“What does it look like?” Kenji asked, staring at the dark eye in awe.
Ash gripped his hand in an awkward fist, as if his fingers wouldn’t bend all the way. “It doesn’t just look…it feels. Rotten. Bloated sulfur in summer. Carcass hidden behind a sheet of water.” His eyes darted to Kenji’s. “And the creatures inside. They’re never still.”
The restaurant filled with whispers at the word creatures. Some got up to leave, having heard enough, but many stared in frightened curiosity. For them it was worth the terror if it meant learning something more about the silent beast that was afflicting them all.
Ash unfurled his index finger from his fist and pointed out the window. “The northern wing of BLES is covered with them. And Task Force is so infected there’s more shadow than cement holding it up.” His finger shook as he pointed at all the customers. “Sometimes I see the creatures whispering in a person’s ear. Speaking to them. Poisoning black thoughts.”
“Alright!” the man near Kenji cut in. “I think we’ve all heard enough! Sir, you’re going to have to leave, or I’ll call Task Force to come and take you.”
Ash took a step towards the man. He flinched and drew back, and Ash smiled at his reaction.
“It likes you. Your blood is rich in Mercury.”
“Yeah, same to you too, buddy,” the man replied, trying to shrug it off.
Ash made for the door and left for the snowy-trodden streets, yet the tension in the restaurant remained. Everyone stared at the man condemned for the Bandit. When the man saw their stares, he grew angry.
“You don’t believe that nut-case?!”
No one waivered from their silent watching.
The man waved his hand. “You’re all as mad as he is!” He turned on his heels and shoved Kenji out of his way towards the front door. “I won’t be back!”
Kenji stared at the man’s retreating form before turning back to his customers and commenting, “Well that’s a relief!”
No one had the energy to laugh, but they could feel a little warmth returning to the room, as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud, or a bird of prey took to another patch of land, and it was safe once more to venture outside.
* * *
Commander Vin clasped his hands behind his back, staring hard at the blinding white wall before him. Ward was pacing to his side, staring at the screen of his tablet. The tie he was wearing was uncharacteristically lopsided, and Vin had an inkling desire to shove the tie further up his neck until it was taught against his skin.
“Your man is sure it was her,” Ward asked, glancing up from his tablet.
Vin fought the urge to sigh in annoyance. “Yes sir. He was positive. As I understand it, his brother was friends with her.”
Ward’s eyebrows raised. “Really? That’s puzzling.” He returned to pacing, this time going up and down the far wall so that his tablet was too far away for Vin to see. “What really has me concerned is if she’ll try and kill herself before we find her. It’s been several weeks already.”
“Without complementing the military, s
ir, she is very strong.”
“Strong enough to pull the trigger on herself. I know. It is her strength that both worries and encourages me.” Ward slapped his tablet against his leg, the screen going dark. “What we need is some way to drum her out of whatever rock she is hiding under. Some incentive that will force her into the open.”
He thought deeply for a moment, drumming his fingers against his tablet. Despite the several ideas bouncing through his head, Vin remained respectfully silent as he waited at the wall. Suddenly Ward pointed his finger at him.
“How many did you say you’ve smoked already?”
“About a dozen, sir. All east-enders.”
“And word has spread about this, yes?”
Vin faltered a moment. “Yes, sir. But I feel I must warn—”
Ward held up his hand. “Start leaking word of the cure. If Jessie hears there is a way out of it, I do not doubt that she will try to take it. After all, what has she got to lose?” Vin was about to speak again, when Ward cut in. “It will not damage her permanently, will it? The removal procedure?”
Vin cleared his throat. “There will be initial damage, but nothing that the doctors at BLES can’t fix.”
“And her mind?”
“She will be, no doubt, weak. Much easier to mold than her mother.”
“Good. Let me know the second your men find her.”
Ward went down to stare at his tablet again, a silent signal that Vin was dismissed, but the Task Force Commander did not move.
“Is there something else?” Ward snapped, staring up at the much taller man.
“Once we find Jessie, are we to continue using the smokers?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t you? I’ve built you a weapon, I expect you to use it.”
“I assume you are not aware of one of the side-effects it produces. It may prove to be problematic if—”
“You know I hate to hear of problems, Vin. I’m sure you will be able to handle whatever minor hiccup you encounter on the way. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
With that, Ward left the white room, leaving the Commander against the wall, shaking his head and muttering about racking idiot Presidents.
* * *
Tom slowly opened the door to the shack on Axel Street. There was no light inside, hardly space enough to stand with the door swung in. He was tempted to close the door all the way behind him, protecting him from the view of anyone that might be passing by on the street, but he needed the outside light. It took enough courage to sneak all the way here, he could at least suffer through a few more minutes of exposure.
He found the phone on the wall like Ritter said, and carefully picked up a segment that looked as if it came away from the bulk of the contraption. A wire ran from the base of the object and disappeared somewhere behind the wall.
Placing the phone to the side of his face, he called out an unsure, “Hello?”
There was static on the other line. For a moment he thought that Ritter might have been playing a trick on him, that maybe this was some prop used in Task Force hazing rituals. Then a voice came on.
“Who is this?”
Tom closed his eyes in silent relief. “My name is Tom. I’m a—” He stopped himself, realizing that if he said he was Jessie’s friend, they might not treat him too kindly. “I’m looking for Jessie Fifty-Fifty.”
“You and the rest of this city,” the voice replied. “Who told you about this line?”
Tom almost debated on hanging up. If he gave them Ritter’s name, they would distrust him even more. And it sounded as if they had no more idea of where Jessie was than he did. Still, he had come all this way; he wasn’t going to leave just yet.
“One of your own,” he said, cringing as the words left his mouth. He was never very good at lying, and he knew the man on the line would be able to hear his deceit.
“The name?” the man pressed.
“The name isn’t important. I just want to know if you know where Jessie is or not.”
“And if we do?” the man replied smoothly. “What information can you give in return?”
“Information?” Tom repeated. He had not thought he would need to barter for her whereabouts.
“That’s how this works, Tom. An exchange of goods. One location for another. For example, say you were the Tom that helped Jessie escape the firing squad. Well, that would make you one of her closest friends. And one of her closest friends would certainly know the location of the man that employed her as his kidnapper.”
Tom twisted with the phone in his hands, checking behind him to make sure that no one was sneaking up on him from the outside street.
“If I was that Tom,” he said, trying to keep a level voice. “Don’t you think I would know where Jessie is? And you still haven’t told me if you know where she is.”
“Forgive me. I am not in the habit of giving straight answers to strangers. But, you might find me a little more forthcoming with the right leverage.”
Tom let the phone drop from his head as he deliberated his options. If he gave them Ritter and Nel, he would also be giving them their hiding spot. And it didn’t guarantee that the Jessie he found would still be the Jessie he knew. The logical choice would be to hang up the phone and walk out of there before he could do any more damage. Of course, there was always a third option.
“I don’t know where Jessie’s employer is,” he spoke into the phone. “But I can offer you something even more valuable. My services as a doctor. You lead me to her, and I will promise to work for you for the rest of my life.”
There was silence. “Give me a minute,” the man said, sending the line into static.
Tom waited in the shack, listening intently for when the voice would come back on the line. However, before any sound came out through the phone, the whole shack around him creaked. A moment later a violent shudder ran through it, and Tom placed his hands on either side of the close walls, bracing himself for an earthquake. Yet, as his hands met the shack walls, he realized that they were moving, or rather, he was. Looking down, he noticed that the floor of the shack was sinking below the ground. His instincts told him to jump out now while he still could, but his desire to see Jessie kept his feet firmly planted in place.
As the ground lowered past the shack, he was plunged into darkness with four walls of close rock trailing past him. Only the wind from the descending motion kept him from panicking at the claustrophobic nature of the ride. When the rock widened out, Tom found himself descending into a purple-lit cavern of some kind. Yet, it wasn’t the only thing he was being lowered into. A giant cage sat waiting for him, a square cut out at the top so that his platform could fit through.
His stomach tightened as he allowed himself to be lowered into the cage. He tried to remind himself that the Resistance weren’t evil people; they just followed their own set of rules. They understood the nature of bartering, and would have no reason to hurt him if they planned on using his services as a doctor.
When the platform stopped at the bottom of the cage, a man appeared from somewhere outside. He stood at the bars, grasping one in his hand. His eyes flicked up and down as he regarded Tom.
“You’re definitely that Tom,” he remarked with a satisfied nod. “Just minus the glasses.”
Tom’s heart picked up. Had Jessie spoken about him?
The man outside the cage chuckled at his reaction. “You’re surprised that she mentioned you? Well, as long as we’re doing business together, I might as well let you in on a secret. Jessie only ever talks about three people. Her mother, the boy named Ben…” He paused and gave a smile, finishing, “…and you. You should be flattered.”
Tom didn’t know how to respond. He just stood at the center of the cage. Somehow it seemed safer. No one could reach him at the center.
“My name’s Jason,” the man remarked, leaning casually against the bars. “I would say it’s an honor to meet you, but Jessie didn’t exactly leave here on the best of terms.”
“But you know wher
e she is now,” Tom pressed, venturing a little closer to the edge of the cage.
Jason was silent, causing Tom to stride all the way to where he stood.
“No,” Jason answered, looking down to his feet. “But I can have my men search for you. If she’s somewhere in the city, they’ll find her.”
Tom gripped a hand around a bar. “And if you don’t find her? Am I supposed to stay your prisoner forever?”
Jason lifted a purple glow stick in his hand and banged it against the bars. “Well now, answer me this. If I do find her, what’s to stop her from breaking in here and rescuing you?”
“The fact that she might be a Bandit.”
Jason clicked his light off. “Well, you better hope that’s not the case. For both your sakes.”
Chapter 3
Fight to Die
Jessie swayed as she stared down at her fists, her knuckles raw with old bruises and fresh cuts. The dirt beneath her feet was speckled in blood. She didn’t know if it was her own or her opponent’s. Above her was a dirty-gray domed ceiling. Bleachers had been erected, and a handful of people sat on the metal chairs, shouting for bloodshed. Jessie never liked looking at the stands. The creeping black shadows were always the most vivid there, hanging on spectator’s shoulders, darting in between their legs and even crawling up their arms to whisper in their ears. She looked away but she could still hear them. She shook her head, trying to clear them from her mind, but they never left, not even in sleep, especially not in sleep.
“Contender, are you ready?”
Jessie blinked and looked up to the man standing just outside the fighting rink. He was staring at her, waiting for her response. She couldn’t remember what she was supposed to say. She had to stay focused. She hadn’t slept in over two days, hadn’t taken a night off from fighting since she discovered the rink almost two weeks ago.
“Hey, smoker!” her opponent sneered. “In or out?!”
