Thursday Midnight

by Zachry Wheeler

  Jonas snatched his backpack from the foyer bench and tossed it over his shoulder. He turned to Anna and Doren, who mirrored his troubled gaze. Anna wiped her watering eyes and leapt into a final embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and fought to quell the pain that twisted her stomach. Jonas closed his eyes and squeezed her tight as his brain engraved her soft skin and sweet aroma.

  “This is day one,” she whispered. “Make it count.”

  “I will.”

  She pulled away and locked eyes. “Do not let them take this away from you. This is your time, your triumph, and it deserves its moment.” The next words lodged in her throat, forcing her to glance away as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  He smiled. “You’re my home.”

  They tapped foreheads, signaling a bitter farewell.

  Jonas met eyes with a smirking Doren. “What?”

  “This,” he said, gesturing to them like a game show host. “This is what I always hoped to see. I just never pictured it inside a hillbilly shack.”

  Jonas snickered. “Apologies for the subpar lodging. You are free to log a complaint with management.”

  “My review will be curt yet fair.”

  “There’s beer in the fridge.”

  Doren narrowed his eyes. “What kind?”

  Anna punched him in the shoulder, drawing a yelp and flinch.

  Jonas chuckled into a sigh. “I missed this, guys.”

  “Me too,” Doren said.

  “Ditto,” Anna said.

  Jonas turned away and shuffled through the front door. A sense of duty awoke inside him, hardening his pace and posture. His grip tightened on the backpack as he pressed towards the vessel. Korovin studied his every step, looking for tells in the gait. Jonas glared at the agent as he bounded into the holding bay, offering nothing but a cold resolution. He selected a seat and yanked the straps over his shoulders. Korovin followed him inside and grasped the door handle. Anna had emerged onto a tiny stoop with her arms tucked to battle the cold. Jonas caught her dejected gaze as the door slammed shut.

  CHAPTER 14

  Jonas stood at the windows of Korovin’s office, overlooking the city he once called home. A flurry of activity surrounded the tower, bringing all traffic to a standstill. Horns blared as pedestrians darted across the street to join the commotion. Flashing cameras and swirling police lights reflected off the glass of adjacent buildings. Jonas studied it all before locking his gaze to a diner near the intersection.

  “Good crab,” he said.

  “Come again?” Korovin said as he wandered over and settled beside him.

  “That place on the corner. They serve good king crab.”

  “Hmm, don’t think I’ve ever been.” Korovin dragged his gaze over the anxious crowd. “So how does it feel to be the most famous person on the planet?”

  Jonas sighed. “Never intended to be.”

  “The public will likely request a statement once the dust has settled, which will be entirely up to you. We will never release your image or any details on your whereabouts. But should you wish to conclude the investigation with a public dialogue, we can provide support.”

  “Thank you, I guess.”

  “And this is where I thank you on behalf of NExUS and blah blah blah, but I think we can skip that crap.” He turned to Jonas. “I do thank you personally, though. It took a lot of courage to reveal yourself. Given the situation, I’m not sure I would have done the same.”

  “Of course you would have.” Jonas met his gaze. “You and I share a weakness. I abandoned the mission years ago, but could never shake the pull.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Abandon the mission?”

  A sudden tension seized Jonas, which Korovin allowed to linger before diffusing.

  “The grand mission, I mean. Helping others, doing right by the world.”

  Jonas swallowed the strain and glared at the agent. The irony dangled between them like a rusty fishhook, but any retort carried a toxic burden. He could only sigh and return his gaze to the crowd. “I guess not.”

  A knock at the door hooked their attention.

  “Come in,” Korovin said.

  Agent Jemison entered the room with a quiet reluctance and closed the door behind her. She traded glances with the two, then settled on Korovin. “He’s up. Interrogation room six.”

  “Spasibo, Mae.”

  “When would you like to proceed?”

  He eyed a wall clock. 10:34 p.m. “Let’s begin at 11. That gives us a full hour of discourse before deadline. I will need you to give a brief statement at that time. Nothing detailed, just an acknowledgement of proceedings.”

  “Yes sir.” She glanced at Jonas and gulped with obvious concern. “So, um, how will they know that we’re telling the truth? They may think we’re putting on a show.”

  “The public saw two Ravens leave and one return. They know that a gambit is in play. We have taken no preemptive measures, so the field remains neutral. If the captive needs to make a call, then we’ll provide it.”

  “Yes sir.” She offered a thin smile and bowed her head, wearing her misgivings for all to see.

  Korovin frowned and returned his gaze to the city. His eyes combed the restless streets as a wearied mind wrestled with failure. “It’s like trying to fight the idea of a threat.”

  Jemison exhaled a weighted breath and stepped towards Jonas. She halted within an arm’s reach, then extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  He gripped her hand. “Jonas is fine. I’m just a citizen.”

  She nodded politely, but yielded no emotion. “I worked with Agent Korovin during your, um ... previous tenure. I understand why you are here, and I can appreciate where you come from. But, I must confess to a, um ... to a sense of unease.”

  Jonas clenched his lips, unsure of how to respond.

  She sighed and glanced down to the floor. “But over the last several days, I have grown to resent that bias. Perhaps it’s time to address it.”

  An unexpected smile lifted his cheeks.

  * * *

  Inside the interrogation room, the Axeman sat in perfect stillness with hands folded on his lap. His locks and beard remained unkempt, serving as a stark contrast to his orange jumpsuit. He stared at the opposing entry through a blank expression, awaiting his prize with a stoic patience. Korovin, Razin, and Jonas studied him through the one-way mirror. The image seemed frozen in time, like a simulation trapped by an unknown glitch.

  “Do you know him?” Korovin said.

  “No,” Jonas said, adding a modest headshake.

  “Maybe he’s from another tribe?” Razin said.

  “It didn’t work that way,” Jonas said. Images of family fleeing the encampment popped into his mind. “The entire population was governed by the elders. Children, trainees, transients, they knew everyone.”

  “And we knew them, thanks to you.”

  A chill nettled his skin. “Thanks to me.”

  Korovin glanced at his phone. “It’s time. I will establish a dialogue, then motion to Agent Razin when it’s time to join us. She will escort you inside.”

  Jonas nodded.

  Korovin gripped his shoulder in solidarity, then vacated the observation room. He turned a corner and paused at the interrogation entry. His eyes met with the Axeman through a window slit. The captive retained a cold expression as the agent buzzed himself in. Korovin entered the room with a hesitant stride and reclaimed his seat across the table. The metal legs scraped across the concrete as he settled in for a final showdown. They studied each other through passive faces, gauging the current strength of their positions.

  “Have you fulfilled my request?” the man said.

  “Yes,” the agent said.

  “Where is he?”

  “In good time.”

  “Time is not something you have in abundance, Agent Korovin.”

  “What happens at midnight?”

  The man scoffed. �
��It would seem that you are eager to find out.”

  “You’re in here. They’re out there.”

  “You say that like you caught me in a sewer.”

  “So you plan to—”

  “There are rules to this game, agent. At what point will you start playing by them?”

  Korovin held his tongue, opting for a static rumination. After a brief ponder, he gestured to the one-way mirror.

  Razin guided Jonas out of the observation room and to the interrogation entry. She gripped the handle and turned to Jonas with a final look. He responded with a deep breath and cagey nod, prompting her to swipe the external plate. The door buzzed and unlocked. Razin pushed and held it open, allowing Jonas to step inside with a cautious gait. The door latched behind him with a harsh clunk, sending a jolt of anxiety down his spine.

  Korovin adjusted his stance to observe the exchange.

  The man stared at Jonas with a devious smirk.

  Jonas remained fused to the ground near the door.

  They regarded each other inside a strained silence, one through triumph, the other through a gnawing unrest. The man cocked his chin and gestured to an empty chair beside Korovin. Jonas took a wary step forward, then another, and another, never breaking eye contact. He lowered his body into the metal seat, bringing them to eye level. After a tense and unresolved pause, the man sighed.

  “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

  Jonas shook his head.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were far too busy with your little whore to pay attention in class. No wonder father hated you.”

  The rush of recall slacked his jaw and stole every ounce of breath from his lungs. His gut twisted as a vile apparition taunted him from the past. “Tobias?”

  “Welcome back to the war, brother.” Tobias gestured to the agent. “Go ahead, tell ‘em.”

  Jonas fought for breath as his gaze shifted between the two. His mind shrieked in horror, but a driving compulsion forced him to remain tethered.

  Maintain image.

  He turned to Korovin. “Tobias was part of my tribe. He was a transient, same as me. He worked in Portland while I held Seattle. His father was Hector, our head elder.”

  “I remember him,” Korovin said with a slight nod. “We invaded that site, left none alive.”

  Tobias leaned forward. “Did you, now?”

  “Your survival does not—”

  “Do you know what your problem is, agent?”

  The assertion rattled Korovin, who yielded the floor.

  “You still see this as black and white, us versus them, the timeless struggle between humans and vampires. But that war is over, agent. Mankind is marching into extinction with its hands in the air. It’s finished, dead and buried. And yet, you somehow fail to see the new war staring you in the face. You can smell it in the streets, hear it in the alleys. The real war, the battle between purpose and stagnation.”

  Tobias switched to Jonas. “You think you’re the only one who fucked the enemy? Father knew the power of intimacy, but he also knew how utterly fucking childish most of you would view it. Hell, your little fling with Mara proved that point. Then what’d you do, huh? After she died? You fell in love with a porcelain doll. You recreated her, like a sniveling brat who lost his favorite toy.”

  Jonas stammered as his mind raced in circles. “H—how did you know about—”

  “Father raised an army right under your nose, and you were too selfish to see it.” Tobias huffed with disgust, then returned to Korovin. “We have turned entire towns against the tyranny of NExUS. Hector knew that the war was lost, so he decided to forge an alliance, a faceless legion hell-bent on restoring purpose to this world.”

  Korovin stiffened his posture. “But NExUS—”

  “It’s a farce, agent. Take a long hard look at this utopian shithole the next time you walk the street. There’s a truth in the air that you cannot escape. People would rather die for a reason than live for a ration.”

  The agent squirmed, unable to mask his distress.

  “So why am I here?” Jonas said.

  Tobias snorted into a chuckle, flashing his yellow teeth. “Sorry, brother. I forgot you were there.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “Fact of the matter is, I don’t give two fucks about you.”

  “Then w—”

  “I just wanted you away from her.”

  The awareness bashed Jonas like a hammer to the skull. A crippling dread mangled his face and stomach. The metal chair snapped across the concrete as he shot to his feet. He darted to the rear door and yanked the handled with both hands, but it would not budge. “Let me out! We have to go! Let me out, goddamnit!”

  Korovin leapt from his seat and motioned to the mirror, but nothing responded. He motioned again, but the chamber remained locked. His gaze jumped between a frantic Jonas and a placid Tobias. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

  Jonas kicked the door, sending a sharp echo around the room. He cupped the back of his head and started spinning along with his mind. “They’re going after Anna. We have to stop them.”

  “She’s fine,” the agent said as he approached with open palms. “She’s under guard, remember?”

  “No, you fuck!” Jonas clenched his fists and sneered at Korovin. “You led them right to her!”

  “Please calm down,” the agent said. His voice softened as he tried to regain control of the room.

  “Don’t you see? We have to leave now!”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Tobias said with a brazen calm. He crossed his legs and cupped a knee, as if to host a therapy session. “Neither one of you seem to understand the rules. If it’s not obvious by now, you are no longer in control of the situation.”

  Jonas trembled with panic. His welling eyes locked onto his captor. “Wha—why are you doing this?”

  Tobias raised an eyebrow. “If that’s your question, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

  A harsh buzz echoed inside the room, drawing flinches from Jonas and Korovin. Tobias stood from his chair while retaining a brash disposition. The door opened behind him, revealing Agent Razin.

  Korovin deflated. “Yulia, no.”

  “One more thing,” Tobias said to Korovin. “Your friend has kept a dirty little secret from you. I saw it the second he walked through the door, yet you remain blind to the truth. Funny, given the nature of your work.”

  Jonas closed his eyes and bowed his head. A whimper escaped his chest. “Please don’t.”

  Tobias stepped over to his former cohort, bringing them face-to-face. “It’s a simple world, brother. You betrayed us. Now I get to return the favor.”

  “What is this?” Korovin said.

  Tobias smirked as he slowly backed away. “Open your eyes, agent. You don’t need tech to spot deceit.” He pointed at Jonas. “That man is still human.”

  With the poise of a diplomat, Tobias spun and departed the chamber. Razin released the door and followed him out, adding a snide glance before the pane closed. A harsh clunk echoed through the space, locking the pair inside.

  A grim silence poisoned the room.

  Korovin eyed Jonas and began to weigh his mercy.

  CHAPTER 15

  A brawny man with a thick moustache sat inside a parked utility vehicle. Mozart poured from the speakers, filling the cramped cabin with a sense of ease and wonder. He sipped from a large thermos of coffee with his eyes closed and head swaying against the rear cushion. His mind drank in every glorious note, savoring the peaks and valleys of unrivaled perfection. The boxy van offered little by way of acoustics, but the man seemed content inside the tattered walls of his own personal theater.

  His phone erupted with shrill pings, marking an end to a needed break. He blinked back to the current reality as his head rose from the seat. A wandering hand patted his chest in search of the irksome tones. He retrieved the device from a shirt pocket and muted the alarm. Another tap quelled the music, leaving him to the cold silence of
a dark parking lot. A faint thumping echoed from afar, muffled through walls of steel and concrete. He sighed and smacked his lips. After a mental reboot, he climbed between the seats and slipped into a packed cargo bay.

  His presence cued a handful of interior lights, revealing a metal floor scuffed by years of touring. Numerous cables lined the walls, bound together in tight bundles of various lengths. Rows of sturdy hooks kept them neat and secure. Black crates with white lettering rested beneath the cables, bound to the floor with ratchet straps. A few lids were open, exposing an array of electronics padded with foam.

  The man twitched his moustache as he glanced around the bay in search of a particular crate. He grunted with the discovery and lowered to a knee. A click and twist popped the top, allowing him to detach it and set it aside. The man rummaged through the roadie equivalent of a junk drawer before securing his prize, a modest sling satchel with some weighted items. He secured the lid and returned to his feet before tossing the bag over his shoulder.

  His beefy frame spun to the rear doors, knocking hooks and tools with his broad shoulders. He lumbered through a mental checklist with his eyes locked onto the windowless planes. With prep complete, his focus shifted to the muffled thumps off in the distance. He grabbed a random bundle of wires and stepped to the rear.

  The doors swung open, unveiling a parking lot packed with buses, trailers, and utility trucks. The thumping gained some volume, but remained secluded. The man dropped to the pavement with a heavy thud and closed the doors. He glanced up to a clear sky peppered with stars, a rare sight in Vancouver. A smile lifted his cheeks as he paused to savor the moment. He traced a favorite constellation, then sighed and returned to his task.

  Another worker wandered by with a handcart in tow. She nodded and smiled, which the man returned. A squeaky wheel caught his attention, which kindness urged to repair, but obligation pressed to ignore. The noisy cart faded out of sight and mind, drawing a heavy sigh. He glanced down at the satchel, cables, and rugged clothes with various stains. Hardly the life of excitement he had imagined on the road, but at least he got to travel. It was a notion that he used to fall asleep. He oriented himself towards the distant thumps and began his trek through the parking lot maze.