The Massacre Mechanism (The Downwinders Book 5)

by Michael Richan

  “What’s it say?” Daniel asked.

  “‘All items moved to locker 139 at our facility, per your instructions’,” Winn read. “Shit.”

  “It’s just a little harder to get, that’s all,” Awan said. “Better than everything being in Arizona.”

  “I don’t see how,” Winn replied, waving the paper. “This place will have security. Guards, cameras.”

  “Cameras are no problem,” Daniel replied.

  “No problem?” Winn asked. “How?”

  “Every security system records its camera feeds with a time code,” Daniel replied. “You simply corrupt the time code, and it won’t replay.”

  “You know how to do that?” Awan asked.

  Daniel raised a hand to his chest. “What kind of a time expert would I be if I couldn’t corrupt simple time code on a hard drive?”

  Awan turned to look at Winn. “Alright,” he muttered.

  “That’s all fine and well, but what if the cameras are monitored live?” Winn asked.

  “Lots of storage places don’t have anyone there,” Awan replied. “We’ll have to scout out the place to know for sure.”

  Daniel took a deep breath. “So, we’re gonna try to break into her storage bay and steal it, then.”

  “Not steal it,” Winn replied. “Just borrow it to decipher this message. If it really is the device we’re after, I’ll bet it belonged to Deem’s father. The family owns it, and I wouldn’t steal from them.”

  “If it is capable of diagnosing and slipping to the differential,” Daniel said, “it’s incredibly valuable, particularly to gifteds. It would be like leaving a priceless diamond in a storage bay. Very bad idea.”

  “Deem’s father must have had his home protected in some way while he was alive,” Winn said. “I’m sure Deem’s mom had no idea of its value. What do you suggest?”

  “It needs to be kept somewhere safe,” Daniel replied. “Behind a legend shelf, at least. Preferably more.”

  “I know where,” Winn said, aware that he couldn’t tell Daniel about Lyman without breaking Carma and Lyman’s trust. “It’ll be protected until his daughter is able to care for it herself.”

  “Let’s go check out that storage facility,” Awan said, and they turned to walk out of the empty, quiet shell that used to be Deem’s home.

  Chapter Seven

  Awan got back into the Jeep, which Winn had parked a block away from the office of St. George Moving and Storage.

  “Well?” Daniel asked from the back seat.

  Awan handed Winn a brochure. “Cameras everywhere,” Awan replied. “They really want you to think it’s secure.”

  “What about guards?” Winn asked.

  “No one in the office after hours,” Awan replied, “but a security guard does patrol the place in a golf cart. Who knows what his routine might be.”

  “And then there’s the issue of getting in,” Daniel observed. “Huge fence all the way around, as far as I can tell.”

  “The code to the front gate is on the brochure,” Awan said, pointing to the papers in Winn’s hand.

  “What?” Winn asked, looking through them. A five digit code appeared in ink at the bottom of a contract.

  “I rented a space,” Awan said. “Number 140.”

  Winn stared at Awan in disbelief. “You did not!”

  “I did,” Awan replied. “I asked for a map of the place so I could pick a spot I liked. 140 was open.”

  “Right next door?” Daniel asked.

  “I suggest we drive inside and see what the wall between our unit and number 139 is made of,” Awan replied.

  Winn let out a hoot and raised his hand to high-five Awan, who returned the gesture with a calm nonchalance. Winn started up the Jeep and they pulled toward the front gate of the facility.

  “How much did it cost you?” Winn asked.

  “A hundred,” Awan replied.

  “I’ll pay you back,” Winn said.

  “No need,” Awan answered.

  Winn stopped the Jeep at a keypad and punched in the code. The large black iron gate in front of them began to slide open.

  Once inside, he maneuvered through the rows of storage units, following Awan’s directions. Soon they arrived in front of number 140, and Winn parked the Jeep.

  They got out, looking over at unit 139. A large padlock hung from the unit’s door.

  Awan grabbed the handle to 140 and raised the rolling door into the ceiling. A large ten by ten storage space was exposed, empty except for a shiny nickel on the ground in the middle of the cement.

  Winn looked down at the nickel and decided not to pick it up.

  Awan walked to the wall that bordered 139 and knocked on it. “Simple sheetrock,” Awan observed. “Unpainted. This should be easy.”

  “What are you thinking?” Winn asked.

  “We take off this entire piece of sheetrock,” Awan said. “That’ll expose the studs. We punch a hole to get through. When we’re done, we’ll reattach a new piece of sheetrock on this side.”

  “What about the hole on the other side?” Daniel asked.

  “We’ll arrange things so that it appears it was damaged from that side,” Awan replied. “Like a piece of furniture fell into it; something like that.”

  “Sounds risky,” Daniel replied.

  “But worth the risk,” Winn answered. “Let’s do it.”

  “Did you rent this space under your name?” Daniel asked Awan.

  “Of course not,” he replied. “Paid cash. And if you ruin their camera feeds from today, I think that should cover our tracks well enough. They’re likely to not discover the damage on the other side for a while.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” Winn said.

  “Let’s go rent a truck,” Awan replied. “We’ll need to stop by a hardware store and pick up tools and the sheetrock. It’ll never fit in your Jeep.”

  “This is getting expensive,” Winn replied as he stepped out of the storage space and waited for the others to exit so he could pull down the door.

  “Another hundred bucks, tops,” Awan said.

  Winn scanned up and down the storage units, looking for anyone who might have seen them. It was noon, and the sun was beating down. No one else was around.

  “Too hot for people to be out,” Winn observed. “That’s to our advantage.”

  “They’ll start showing up after work, when the sun starts to go down,” Awan replied. “The faster we do this, the better.”

  Winn started up the Jeep and they left for the hardware store.

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  They’d been going through boxes for a half hour. Winn could feel the sweat pouring off his body, soaking his shirt. They couldn’t open the door to unit 139 to let in light or air, and were using lanterns to illuminate the space. The heat was suffocating.

  He stopped to close up the last box he’d looked through and glanced over at the wall. A roughly punched hole just big enough to crawl through didn’t bring in any air either; the door to 140 was closed as well. Couldn’t afford to have someone drive by and see that they’d removed an entire piece of sheetrock from one wall of the unit.

  He opened the next box and rummaged through it, lifting clothes and shoes. These belong to Deem’s mother, he thought, a little disturbed at his act of invasion. He finished the box quickly and went on to the next.

  “Damn, it’s hot in here!” Daniel said. “I’m sweating buckets.”

  “Me too,” Awan answered. “Just gotta keep going as fast as we can.”

  Between the heat and the extra caffeine they’d ingested to keep their energy going, Winn was starting to feel lightheaded. He closed up the box and started another. It contained a glass vase that had been wrapped in tissue and a couple of small knickknacks wrapped in paper. At the bottom of the box was another object surrounded by bubble wrap; he could see bronze through plastic.

  Is that it? he thought. It’s about the right size.

  He carefully removed the object and peeled the b
ubble wrap from around it. A metal framed box emerged, with glass sides that exposed a finely-crafted set of gears inside. Its top was rounded, capped by a metal ball. He stared for a moment down into it, admiring its beauty. There were dozens and dozens of gears inside, maybe hundreds. It looked like the inside of a fantastic clock.

  “Guys,” he said. “I’ve found it.”

  Awan and Daniel stopped what they were doing and turned. “You sure?” Awan asked.

  Winn held the mechanism up for the others to see.

  “Oh my god,” Daniel said breathlessly. “I didn’t really think…”

  Winn stepped to the only spot in the storage bay that wasn’t cluttered, and the other two joined him. “May I?” Daniel asked, reaching out for it.

  Winn passed the mechanism to Daniel, and he cradled it like a baby, admiring its detail.

  “That is one, right?” Winn said. “Or is it something else?”

  “No, it’s one of them,” Daniel said, his lips moving to answer although his mind seemed far away. He turned the device, looking at it from all angles. “I didn’t think I’d ever see one in person.”

  “How do we make it work?” Winn asked, reaching to take it back.

  Daniel was lost in a fog for a moment, the wonder of the discovery still blowing his mind. “Work?” he repeated. “Work…well, we need it to read your document first. Then it shifts you. Maybe it would be best if we went back to the other storage space for this.”

  “You two go through,” Awan said. “I’ll clean things up and make it look like something fell to cause the damage.”

  Daniel and Winn passed through the small hole into unit 140, and waited while Awan worked on cleaning up the dust on the other side. Once he’d come through and joined them, they could see the edge of a large box poking through from the other room.

  “Nicely done,” Winn commented. “Once we replace the sheetrock on this side, it’ll look perfect.”

  “Do you have the symbols?” Daniel asked.

  Winn removed the paper from his back pocket and carefully unfolded it, trying to remove creases. Once he was done, he handed it to Daniel, who spread it out on the cement floor of the empty storage unit.

  “Place the mechanism on the paper,” Daniel instructed, and Winn carefully set the device on top of it, squarely in the middle.

  “What now?” Winn asked, watching. Nothing seemed to be happening.

  “Um, not sure,” Daniel said. “I’ve only read about these, you know. Never thought I’d ever get to use one.”

  “Seems like it needs to start up,” Awan commented.

  “Ah!” Daniel said, striking his head with his hand. “Of course, you’re absolutely right. I’m so tired I’m not thinking straight. It’s been dormant for a while; it’ll need a kick to crank up. Have either of you ever participated in a focus?”

  “Just tell us how to do it,” Awan said.

  “We drop into the River,” Daniel replied, “and then it’s like a trance. However, all three of us will concentrate on the same thing — that mechanism. Exclude all else from your mind. The power from the focus might jump-start it.”

  “Alright,” Winn replied, and watched as Daniel instructed them to stand around the paper and the device. Daniel’s arms went out to reach for their hands, and Awan and Winn took the hint, forming a circle.

  Winn dropped, feeling himself slip effortlessly into the River. The oppressive heat of the storage space dissolved, and the world around him changed in slight ways that seemed to make everything partially transparent.

  Below him the device and the paper sat motionless, nothing indicating their potential power or message. He thought about the box, letting his first impression of its design fill his mind. He saw the gears and cogs, the ragged teeth, the small, almost invisible springs and levers. It was impressive in its complexity, and he let it wash over him and wipe away all other thoughts.

  Then he felt the power center in him, and he opened his eyes to see their focus emanating from each of them, joining in the center and continuing toward the mechanism. As the energy reached it, it glowed with the familiar hue he’d seen before on River objects, and the gears inside began to move. Daniel was right — it needed the focus to start up. It had been sleeping; now it was alive.

  He felt Daniel break the circle by dropping his hands. In response, Winn retreated from the trance, but remained in the River. Daniel had dropped to look into the sides of the device; Winn was intrigued, so he knelt down to join him. Inside were mechanical displays that hadn’t appeared before; a series of metal wheels with numbers and symbols were spinning slowly. Several stopped near markers.

  There’s the differential! Daniel said, pointing inside the mechanism. See that series?

  Winn made out a sequence of several numbers and other bizarre symbols he couldn’t describe. How do I interpret that? he asked Daniel. I don’t know what the symbols on these wheels mean.

  You don’t need to, Daniel replied. The differential couldn’t use just our numbers to identify it. It would take a list of numbers a mile long. These symbols represent it more accurately than our numbers can.

  What now? Awan asked. If that’s the differential, how do we use it to figure out the message on the paper?

  One of us needs to travel to that differential, Daniel said, and try reading the paper.

  How? Winn asked.

  Daniel looked down at the mechanism. Touch it, he replied, and looked back up at Winn.

  Me?

  You’ll only be gone for a moment, Daniel said. Try to memorize what you see.

  Winn slowly reached for the device. As his fingers neared the metal ball on the top, he felt a surge of electricity crackling over his skin, tingling and needling his flesh. He wrapped his palm over the ball, grasping tightly.

  Everything narrowed rapidly, and he briefly felt relieved, as though every care in the world had been extinguished, and he was no longer bound by anything — obligations, concerns, duty. It was a split second of the bliss of being free from time, and when it passed, he knew it was a good thing he wasn’t able to control what was happening to him, because he knew he’d choose to stay in that bliss had he been given the choice.

  Awan wasn’t in the room any longer, but Daniel was still there. The storage area had changed shape, and when he glanced around, he saw that the door to the unit wasn’t the kind that rolled up — it was a normal door that opened from the side. A single bulb above them illuminated the space; it was a strange bulb, squarish, hanging in the air with no observable means of suspension, rotating slowly.

  Daniel was looking down, and it reminded Winn of the instructions he’d received. Slowly what he was trying to accomplish came back to him, and he glanced down at the paper under the mechanism.

  The symbols had changed. They were gathered into five groups.

  Five words, he thought. But he couldn’t read them. They were still cryptic, not normal English.

  Suddenly he was pulled backward by a mighty force. He fought the pull, wanting to try and memorize the symbols, but its strength increased rapidly until his body gave in and he found himself passing through the momentary bliss he’d experienced before.

  And then, with a sudden, unceremonious abruptness, he felt the heat of the storage space pressing down on him. It made his knees weak. Someone was grabbing him, holding him. After what seemed like hours, he opened his eyes to find Awan’s arms around him.

  “You fell,” Awan said.

  “Well?” Daniel asked. “Did you see them? Do you know what it says?”

  “I saw them,” Winn replied. “I saw them. The room changed.” He looked up. “There was a strange light, and the door was different.”

  “You lucky bastard!” Daniel exclaimed, giddy with excitement. “I’m so jealous!”

  “What did the symbols say?” Awan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Winn replied. “I couldn’t read them. It was like seeing them translated into another set of symbols I couldn’t make out either. What wa
s the point of this?”

  “You’re just confused by the timeslip,” Daniel said. “It’s not unusual for details to blur, especially your first time. It’ll clear up as you regain your senses. Think. What did you see?”

  “There were five words,” Winn said.

  “What was each word?” Daniel asked.

  Winn closed his eyes to concentrate, hoping he could see the symbols in his mind. He thought about trying to stand up, but he knew his body was too weak, and he felt a growing pain in his stomach that made him think he might throw up. After what he’d just been through, he didn’t mind being held.

  “I can’t see any letters, not anything I know,” Winn said. “Oh — wait a moment. I see an ‘O’. And a ‘F’. “Of. Third word is ‘of.’ Fourth word is ‘the’.”

  “It’s like fucking charades,” Awan said, chuckling.

  Winn opened his eyes. “‘Of’ and ‘the’,” he said. “That’s all I can see. Useless.”

  “No, it’s not useless,” Daniel said. “It’s entirely natural that simple words would clear up for you first. So we’ve got blank, blank, of the, blank. Is that right?”

  “Yes,” Winn said, closing his eyes again, feeling things begin to twist in his guts.

  “What else, can you see anything else?” Daniel asked.

  “No — wait, well, I can’t make it out, but the last word is longer than the others. First two are short words, the last word is twice as long. Fuck!”

  “The word is fuck?” Awan asked.

  “No, I’m fucking pissed off that I can’t make them out!” Winn said, trying to stand up. Awan helped raise him.

  “Would you hold onto him?” Awan asked Daniel. “I’m going to attach this new piece of drywall and clean up so we can get out of here.”

  “Sure,” Daniel said, grabbing Winn by the shoulders. “Do you need to sit back down?” he asked Winn.

  “No,” Winn replied, taking a step and feeling his legs wobble. He realized the pain he was feeling in his stomach wasn’t nausea; it was hunger. “Why am I starving? I feel like I could eat a horse.”

  “Side effect of the timeslip,” Daniel replied. “Empties out your stomach. Feels like you haven’t eaten in a decade, doesn’t it?”