by Greg Ness
With Vince in a chokehold, Matt scuffles away while Chad and Sean step aside.
Bruce taunts, “Wow Ronnie, you’re a lot better with sticks than you were in high school. This should be a familiar lesson for you.”
Bruce followed through on a punch on a Michigan State football player. The scene in the kitchen was chaotic. There were dozens of green and white letter-jackets fighting Bruce and Vince. While Vince became a punching bag, it was nearly impossible to lay a finger on Bruce.
“Stop!” Kristen screamed, stuck in the middle of the flailing bodies. A brute player picked up a chair to throw at Bruce. Kristen punched him in the stomach. The man flinched and diverted his attack to Kristen. When he spotted her, he halted. Kristen demanded, “Get out!”
Bruce threw his fists around, pounding any fool who came close enough. Suddenly, a lone person emerged to face him. The action seemed to flow around this figure, leaving them to stare at each other. As Bruce examined his face, he noticed it was none other than Ronnie Russell. Of course.
X lunges toward Bruce and thrusts his bladed staff at him. Bruce darts aside and manages to grip the staff with his left hand. X reacts by whipping the staff around toward Bruce’s face, causing Bruce to punch himself in the face. As he stumbles from the hit, X shows off and spins his staff with both hands.
Chad looks at his brother, who is stuck in a chokehold by Matt. He looks at Bruce’s gun, lying on the ground several yards away. There’s no way he can get to it. Matt would shoot him if he tried. Vince glares at Chad and shakes his head, discouraging him from going for it. Instead, Vince blows his head back and crashes into Matt’s face. It’s a bold move: the gun in Matt’s hand fires as he stumbles. Luckily, the gun had staggered with him and barely averted shooting Vince’s head.
Vince lunges forward, grasps Matt’s hands, and throws them high into the air. Matt repeatedly shoots the gun and the sound of bullets clanging metal echoes above them. Click. Click. The gun is empty. Vince and Matt ferociously stare into each other’s eyes as their hands struggle high in the sky.
Vince held his own. Barely. He was fighting several football players after all. Two players grabbed Vince’s arms and held him in place. He struggled and fought, but he was stuck. In front of him, Matt emerged, smiling deviously. Vince glared at him as he tried to catch his breath. Matt wiped blood from his lip and looked at it with disgust. “Do you know who I am?” he shouted over the chaos.
“Future football bust, right?”
Matt’s face contorted and he thrust his fist into Vince’s stomach. Then did it again. And again. Matt gave Vince a beating he would never forget.
At the other end of the brawl, Bruce stared at Ronnie. “I should’ve expected to see you here,” Bruce said. “I can’t get away from you.”
Bloodlust lingered in Ronnie’s eyes. He smashed a bottle against the kitchen counter and waved the sharp glassy remnants in front of Bruce. “What?!” Bruce exclaimed in surprise. Ronnie was taking the fight to a whole new level. He didn’t just want to hurt Bruce, he wanted to kill him. Bruce always knew Ronnie was crazy, but he didn’t realize the severity of it. Ronnie was dangerous.
Ronnie swung his deadly weapon at Bruce. Before it was able to slice him open, he gripped Ronnie’s hand and halted it mid-swipe. Bruce slammed his hand on the counter. “Next time you want to do something stupid like that, remember this.” For all the years of aggravation, Bruce smashed his hand again. “Learn your god damn lesson!” Bruce cracked his fist into Ronnie’s face.
Their fight was over as quickly as it started.
Bruce waits for an opportunity to strike, but for now, he can only dodge X’s jabs with his staff. What makes it particularly difficult is that X switches the blade from end to end, so essentially, Bruce has to avoid the staff altogether. The two tussle like dancers; X jabs and Bruce avoids.
Chad runs toward Bruce’s fallen gun, but what he sees horrifies him: Sean already has it and is pointing it at Vince and Matt, who are tangled up with each other. Chad rushes toward Vince and Matt and forcibly separates them.
Matt shouts at Chad, “Traitor!” Chad responds by rocking Matt to the ground with a shove.
Chad shouts, “Shoot him!”
Sean freezes; he isn’t a killer. He points the gun at Matt. Points it at Vince. How is he supposed to know who the actual good guy is? Sean had barely gotten to know Matt, but at least he knows him. Chad’s brother barged into their meeting and started killing everyone. Sean peered at X, who was deep in battle with Bruce. There’s something odd about X; every time Sean he had peered into his eyes, he saw nothing but darkness. Same with Matt. Perhaps X and Matt are the villains.
Sean has a choice. He knows it. And the only way to make the choice it is to look into his heart.
Sean points the gun at Matt. And pulls the trigger. Click. The gun malfunctions; it’s broken. Click. Click. Vince and Chad lose their breath at the disappointing sight.
The fight had dissipated. Kristen had yelled with all her might and kicked everyone out of the apartment. All that remained were Bruce, Vince, and a giant mess. Natalie emerged to comfort Vince, who had been thoroughly beaten and bloodied. Kristen glared at Bruce, but understood the situation wasn’t entirely his fault. “I’m sorry,” Bruce said.
Kristen nodded. Bruce looked at beaten-up Vince. “Thanks for sticking up for me, Vince.”
“No problem,” Vince said as Natalie held ice to his face. “I’d go to battle with you any day.”
Bruce smiled. Vince had come a long way from the corner of their dorm room doing nothing but math homework. Bruce walked across the kitchen to face him. “I always got your back, Vince. You’re a good friend.”
Bruce held out his hand. Vince grabbed it and they shook hands.
Firmly.
Matt has had enough. He easily pounds Chad in the side of the head, temporarily knocking him out. He turns to Vince and tackles him, pinning him to the ground. If he can’t shoot him, he’ll break his neck. Matt grabs Vince’s head and tries to twist it. Vince grips Matt’s wrists, preventing him from killing him, but only by delaying him.
X swipes his staff at Bruce’s feet, tripping him onto his back on the metal floor. X hovers the blade inches from Bruce’s neck. Bruce looks up at X, who is standing over him, smiling. The look in X’s dark eyes is the same he had seen at Lisa’s party when X broke a bottle and attempted to kill him.
Bruce turns his head and looks at Vince, who is feverishly preventing Matt from killing him. Bruce reveals a peaceful smile to Vince, secretly telling him that no matter what, everything is going to be okay. But Vince doesn’t feel it; their ends are near.
At base of the tunnel, Mikey runs in, only to see the dire situation at hand. A terrible feeling overcomes him: they’re going to fail. Again. He’s too late. Mikey sprints toward X to stop him from killing his father.
“Any last words?” X asks, totally unaware of Mikey’s presence.
“Yeah,” Bruce utters. “I have a plane to catch.”
Before X can comprehend those words, Bruce grips the staff and twists it, causing the blade to disappear from his face and pop out the other end. Bruce jams the blade up through X’s jaw. The blade pierces through his tongue and tips into the roof of his mouth. Bruce jabs the staff and forces it further through, penetrating his brain.
Bruce stands up to face him. X is frozen and stares at Bruce with wide eyes, now full of death.
Upon seeing his dad’s maneuver, Mikey switches directions and runs straight toward Vince, who is on his stomach struggling with Matt. In Mikey’s hand is a dagger, one he is fully ready to use. With Matt gripping his head, Vince stares at a sprinting Mikey.
“Duck!” Mikey yells.
Vince pulls his head, with all his strength, away from Matt’s grip and drops it toward the metal floor. Mikey sprints through and punts Matt in the face, slamming a numbing jolt into his face. As Matt’s head launches backwards, his teeth crumble to the back of his throat and he limply falls off of Vince. Was
ting no time, Mikey digs the dagger into Matt’s chest. And plants it there. Mikey lets out a savage scream, finally free from the burden of his fate.
Bruce glares at Mikey, not pleased that he was forced to kill another person. He hoped he could keep Mikey away from such brutality. But the insanity of the cult and the blindness of their members forced their hands. There’s an inherent danger when a man believes he’s on a mission from God. A sense of reason, a sense of reality, simply disappears. The Xlympians were common men. But they became the most dangerous group of men in history. So as Bruce stares at Mikey, the dark truth settles in: they have killed, slaughtered. But they had no choice.
X, who had fallen to the ground, rolls his eyes and finds himself in a state of delirium. A sharp pain pounds in his head. He grips his hands on the staff and slowly pulls the blade down from his brain. It travels down, through his sinuses, through his nasal cavity, through the roof of his mouth, and out of the bottom of his jaw. A smothering of brain fluid, mucus, and blood spills from his brain to his mouth, washing around his tongue and providing the most disgusting mix he’s ever tasted. X struggles as he lifts himself off the ground. The fluids pour from the hole in his jaw and drip to the floor as he rises, looking like a brain-dead zombie. There are only traces of life left in his body, but it’s enough to do what he needs to do.
“Dad!” Mikey yells, pointing at X.
It’s too late. X lifts his staff and is about to stab Bruce.
Bruce turns to see the hideous sight of Ronnie: eyes rolled back into his head and fluid pouring, like a waterfall, out of the bottom of his jaw. Even worse, Ronnie’s staff is high above his head, about to thrash into him.
Suddenly, a knife soars, spins its way through the air, and launches itself into Ronnie’s back. Ronnie can’t handle any more. He drops his staff, falls to the ground, and collapses onto his face.
Bruce looks into the distance and sees Mr. Ixley, standing at the end of a throwing motion. Confusion abounds Bruce. Mr. Ixley walks towards him and says, “Your son is a lot like you. He doesn’t listen. He came to me and said you needed help. You didn’t want it. But you got it.”
Bruce embraces Mr. Ixley. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Bruce, Mikey, Vince, Chad, Sean, and Mr. Ixley stand silently staring at each other. With the gory mess surrounding them, a horrible feeling dwells within. They huddle together and Sean stands solemnly, staring at his old friends, wondering if he made the right choice. Bruce approaches him. “I’m sorry. The Xlympians once caused the end of the world.”
Sean nods. “I know.”
Bruce staggers in surprise.
Sean says, “I don’t understand. But I believe you. When the sky went dark, something happened. I got this feeling. That I had to get out. That the Xlympians were on the wrong side.” Sean’s nervous eyes grip with Bruce’s and struggle to remain steady.
Bruce grabs his shoulder and reassures him. “The hard part is over.”
He stands in front of everyone and announces, “We’re going to Los Angeles. You’re all welcome to come with us. We’d love to have you. But it’s your choice.” They all look at each other, wondering what the other will do.
Ronnie lies on the ground face down. As he dies, he can think of only one thing: Sara Ixley. Everything he has done has been for Sara Ixley. Although his methods were brutal, Ronnie wanted what was best, not only for himself, but for the world. He believed what he was doing was right. He was just tricked. And he was simply wrong.
The saddest, or most justifiable, aspect of Ronnie’s death is that he will never see Sara Ixley again.
The group, led by Bruce, makes their way out of the underground meeting place. As they leave, Bruce walks next to Mikey. He ponders what to tell his son after just killing another man. Even after being involved in this madness, Mikey retains his youthful innocence. Bruce smiles to himself. It would be a talk for another time. “How do you know Mr. Ixley?”
“Come on, Dad. I saw the future. I knew he’d be helpful.”
Bruce lets his son walk ahead and slows to approach Vince, who is battered more than anyone. “You alright, Vince?”
Vince stares into the distance as they walk down the corridor toward the back exit. “I never thought I could kill so easily.” Doubts linger in his mind. Did the men deserve to die? Were they really as villainous as they appeared?
Bruce asserts, “We did what we had to.”
“Did we?”
Bruce leans in to Vince’s ear and quietly says, “Think of everyone you ever knew. They killed them. Your parents. Your first love. Your old classmates. Natalie. Everyone. What we just did back there – we stopped that from happening.”
Vince forces a smile and gazes at Bruce. “I’d go to battle with you any day.”
Bruce smiles back at his friend.
As the group leaves, everyone decides to leave for Los Angeles. Why? They don’t know.
They would arrive in Los Angeles as friends. But then, they would end the day as more…
49
The next morning, Stephen cruises down Hollywood Boulevard in a red four-door convertible with Campbell sitting in the passenger seat. The sun beats down and the wind blows at their hair. Campbell has a large smile on his face. “This is great!” he yells. Throngs of tourists wander around, gazing at the stars of the Walk Of Fame plastered on the sidewalk. Colorful personalities extenuate the mood of the area. Some people are dressed as super heroes, some as old-time movie stars, and others just plain dressed up.
Stephen, with one hand on the wheel, quips, “This is much better than the minivan.” The ELPIS box sits between them. Stephen brought it for no more reason than a good luck charm. Campbell places the box in his lap. “What’s this for?”
“It’s nothing,” Stephen says. “Just an old thing between me and Bruce.”
“What’s inside?”
“Go ahead, take a look.”
Campbell unlatches the box and carefully pivots open the cover. Despite their vow of silence, Stephen doesn’t care anymore. There are more important things in life than worrying about a goofy secret. Campbell peeks inside.
“What are they?”
“What do they look like?” Stephen responds.
Campbell holds them in his hand and grips them through his fingers. “Did you put these in here?”
“No. They were there when we found it.”
Campbell puts them back inside the box and snaps it shut. Interesting, he thinks. “Isn’t security going to be tight getting into Lisa’s neighborhood?”
Stephen says, “Maybe. We have to make a stop first. To pick up an old friend.”
Later, they pull up to Lisa’s neighborhood, which is protected by a massive gate with closely spaced steel bars. Next to it is a security house with an officer preventing anyone from getting in. Stephen pulls up next to it. He slams the car into park, opens the door, and steps out. A chubby, dark-skinned Indian man dressed in an officer’s uniform emerges from the security house and aggressively asks, “Can I help you, sir?”
Stephen puts a finger in the air, indicating, “one second”. He circles around the car and opens the rear passenger door. “Come on out,” Stephen whispers.
Balwant, owner of a Map To The Stars booth, emerges from the back of the convertible. Stephen holds out his hand, “Balwant, I present to you, your brother, who you ‘haven’t seen in ages’.”
Balwant, a short Indian man, stares at the security guard. And then, it happens: he recognizes him. “Galav!” The stern guard relaxes his body as he comes to the same realization. The brothers rush toward one another and embrace. They jubilantly speak in their native tongue that Stephen doesn’t understand. Stephen leans against the car and waits, allowing them to enjoy their reunion.
After several minutes of catch-up, Stephen clears his throat in Balwant’s direction. Balwant catches notice. “Brother, he needs to get inside. He is a good man. You can trust him.”
Galav examines Stephen and asks, “How did you know
about us?”
Balwant joins in, “Yes. How did you know?”
Stephen shrugs his shoulders and jokes, “It’s a miracle.”
Galav hugs him, restricting his airflow. He declares, “If it is a miracle, then you are an angel! Thank you!” Stephen gently forces him away and re-claims the oxygen into his body. “You’re welcome,” he pants.
“I will let you in,” Galav says, “But don’t cause any trouble.”
Stephen smiles. The benefits for knowing the alternate future were fruitful.
The night before, Stephen stands in his plane, eagerly waiting for his friends to board. A staircase sits outside of the plane, allowing everyone to easily walk in. Campbell is already sitting in his chair, ready to go. An excitement fills their hearts, a sense of celebration. Bruce, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sandals, emerges from the stairs and boards the plane. Stephen smiles and says, “Looks like you’re ready.” Bruce nods. “Ooohh yeah. Best pool party ever. Guaranteed.” Bruce continues and high-fives Campbell as he takes his seat.
After Bruce, Kristen boards. Stephen, with his hands behind his back and acting professional, jokes in a British accent, “Welcome to Pandora Airways, my lady.”
Kristen responds in an equal British accent, saying, “Thank you Slave Stephen. It has been too long.” Kristen plants a kiss on his cheek and continues to her seat. Bruce leaps out of his chair, “My lady!” Kristen fires back, “Shut up. Peasant.” Bruce sits back down, laughing as Kristen joins him. “I’m no peasant,” he whispers.
Mikey, wearing a forwards-facing hat, boards and shakes Stephen’s hand. Stephen declares, “Good to see you, Mikey.” Stephen promptly grips the brim of Mikey’s hat and takes it off. After shaking it to fluff it up, Stephen puts it back on his head. Backwards. Mikey laughs and holds out his hand. “Cool, Uncle Stephen.” Stephen grasps his hand and Mikey gives him a quick hug.
