Tethered

by Vaughn Ashby

  “Well, your magic book must tell the future too right?”

  Shane ran his finger through the pages ahead of where they were reading. They had words on them. Would they tell him the future? He looked up at Pratt. “You sir, are a genius. I’ve always thought you were the Taco of our group. But looks like I was wrong. So what if we did read ahead?” Shane asked, he felt silly asking Pratt the question.

  “Probably bad stuff would happen.” Pratt went for his teacup but it was empty. He turned to Anna to ask her to fill it, but she was on her way to the house. He wasn’t sure if she was bored by the adult conversation, or if she was off to get more tea. He really wanted more tea.

  “Well, it’s hard to argue with that logic.”

  Pratt grabbed the book back," I just want to check something.”

  Shane handed him the book, “Ok, but no future stuff.”

  “No shit, I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen movies,” Pratt checked his teacup again. “Anna! Uncle needs some tea please,” he yelled to her.

  Shane felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, the call display said it was Travers. He answered it. “Hey, you won’t believe what…”

  “I’m sure whatever you’ve got to tell me is important,” Travers sounded out of breath. “But I need you to come get me, right now.”

  “Ok, where are you?”

  Travers sounded more frazzled with every word, “I’ll send you the coordinates.”

  “Coordinates? Where the fuck are you?”

  “Gemma!” Pratt yelled over their conversation. “You told me you weren’t faking it.” Pratt looked disappointingly back at the book, “And where is my tea Anna, God.”

  “Fine, I’ll pick you up,” Shane felt his phone buzz twice, probably the coordinates from Travers.

  “Thanks, buddy, oh, would you bring me some pants too?”

  Shane sighed, he just wanted to go home to bed. “Fine,” he said and ended the call. He flipped to his messages, no messages from Travers yet, but there was one from Jason.

  “Spunk Bubble please drop Anna off at my mom’s place. I’ll be out of town for a while. Chat when I get back.”

  Shane looked up from his phone, Pratt was staring at him. “Can I come with you to get Travers? And what do you think Jason’s message means?”

  “What, how did you?” Shane grabbed the book back, “You read ahead didn’t you?”

  “Yep just a little, ok maybe a lot. I won’t spoil anything for you but holy fuck things are about to get weird.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  2014 Kristen: I Can’t Believe This Guy Was Batman

  Kristen picked up her gym bag and glanced back at Shane. She had lingered a little longer then she needed to in order to pick up her bag, in hopes he'd check her butt out. He did, but that almost made it worse. He'll check her out but not make any moves. She sighed. Then reminded him about dinner and went off to work.

  The walked to the car was a symphony of cracking leaves at her feet. Her yoga pants didn't really offer much in the way of warmth, but they looked spectacular.

  She got in the car and moved the seat up. For some reason, Shane always moved the seat back as far as it would go when he got out. It drove her insane. Sure he was taller than her but he wasn't a fricken basketball player or apple picker. Are apple pickers tall or do they just use a ladder, probably ladders? Wait, are there even still apple pickers? Who picks the apples at the top? She shook her head pulling her away from that line of thinking.

  She put the car in gear and started her 5-minute drive to work. She was lucky to have such a short commute, and she appreciated it every day it snowed. People seem to forget how to drive the second road conditions are anything but perfect.

  With her foot on the brake, she wondered about Shane. Why was he not interested in her? She knew that they'd never really connected sexually but for some reason, she felt like it was more important now. She longed to have him touch her more, just to feel connected to him. But now that they'd been together so long and never done anything about it, the whole thing felt like a mountain.

  Yada yada yada… the five-minute drive to work.

  Kristen grabbed her bag and got out of her car. The wind blew through her clothes and she shivered. Tomorrow she would switch to her winter stuff.

  She crossed the parking lot, which was already full of early morning gym goers. She found that she started liking the days when there were little to no people at the gym. Something about having the place to herself was nice. No gross guys checking her out. Yes, they are boobs, but I'm here to work or work out so fuck off.

  She pulled the door open and the aroma of the gym caused every muscle in her body to puff up with excitement. The mix of sweat and who the fuck knows what hit her. It always helped pump her up for when she didn't want to be around the patroness.

  The offices for the gym were right next to the door so she was able to get to her desk without seeing anyone. She threw her bag down behind the desk, took her hoody off and placed it on the back of her chair. Shane had bought it for her a couple years ago on a trip. They’d traveled to Vancouver Island and he’d bought it on the ferry for her when she was cold. They’d packed poorly and he didn’t want her to freeze or at least he didn’t want her to complain about being cold anymore. She wasn’t sure which one it was, but either way, he’d bought it for her and she loved it.

  Her computer monitor flicked to life when she bumped the mouse while getting comfy in her chair. She checked her schedule. Five appointments today. She rolled her eyes. Why had she picked this job again? More often then not she hated the customers. Personal Trainer seemed like a cool job, she liked working out. But all the people contact was something she could do without.

  The time in the corner of the monitor ticked to the hour and someone knocked on the door. Her first appointment was here. She bounced up from her chair and made her way to the door. An overweight man stood there in a massive shirt that looked like a dress. She didn’t mean to judge but people often came to the gym dressed like Val Kilmer here. And not Batman Forever Val Kilmer, we are talking pudgy I can’t believe this guy was Batman Val Kilmer.

  It should be noted here that Val Kilmer is actually a pretty darn good actor, he’s just let himself go. The Island of Dr. Moreau, and Heat are some amazing works of art sir. Anyways…

  So Val stood there staring at her. She watched his eyes check her out and linger on her tits. Fucking men, pigs all of you. To be fair she knew her view of men was tainted from working here. She invited Val into her office and offered him a seat. They went through the same shtick she went through with everyone and he checked out her breasts again. She tried her best to sound like she actually wanted to help him even when she didn’t. Most of the time she’d try to entertain herself with little personal jokes. She’d often catch herself doing meowing at the customers, not like a crazy cat woman. She’s just throw a meow in between words from time to time.

  The session ended meow with Val and she told him to call anytime meow, then showed him the door. Most of the time she never saw these people again. She knew her personality or lack of caring was the reason but she didn’t really care meow.

  Just after noon she’d take her lunch break, and browse the web searching for anything to make her day less sucky. Most of the time she’d end up checking out the Aurora Wasteland site. She enjoyed figuring out which posts were Shane’s. He seemed so passionate about his writing. He actually cared about this stuff. Why didn’t he care that way about her? She read his story about the bear spray portal hell spider, then read Travers’ story about the creature he and Pratt came across. Had she not known these guys she would have thought all this stuff was fake. Honestly, she still didn’t really believe all of it.

  She pulled up Gmail and logged in. Then she put Shane’s Aurora Wasteland email address in the to line and composed a message. “I think you’re hot, I want to fuck your brains out. Love…” She paused. What if she put Wife there? Would he read it and freak out? Would he think it was a jok
e? She was about to hit send when she heard someone banging on the outside door.

  She rolled her chair around her desk and peaked out. The other personal trainers must have gone out for lunch no one was getting it. She stood and brushed her clothes off, just in case she’d gotten any lunch on it. Something in her brain started ticking, she kept thinking of Return of the Jedi and that fish dude saying “It’s a Trap”. Not expecting the Station to be operational she went to open the door.

  The doors to the gym where glass, revealing an attractive woman with red hair banging on the door. She had a look of panic on her face, she tugged at the door again. Like most 24 hour gyms, this one required a fob to get in. So unless you were a member or you were expected you couldn’t get in. Kristen thought of just leaving and going back to her desk when the woman made eye contact with her. Kristen ran over and hesitantly opened the door. The woman ducked inside and pulled the door shut behind her.

  “Can I help you?” Kristen asked.

  The woman kissed her, “Thank you.” Then she took off towards the change rooms.

  “Hey, you can’t…” Kristen turned and went back to her office. Sure she’d wanted to get back there before to send that email to Shane. But this was different. She felt like she was going back to her desk because someone else wanted her too. But she wanted to too, right? This felt strange. She sat down at her desk and pressed send on the email. She never entered who it was from, and the email address was one she’d created just for this, no name attached. Why had she done that? She started panicking, she wasn’t in control of her body. Damn it, it was a trap.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  2014 Travers: Shiva We Ask For Your Forgiveness

  Liz rolled off of Travers, and reached for her pants. "You're pretty good at that."

  Travers smirked at her, "yeah, I know."

  She smacked him, "Hey at least humor me that you haven't been with half the city."

  "I wouldn't say half; I mean half the city is dudes. Maybe a quarter?"

  She smacked him again, "gross."

  He hopped up and grabbed his pants. He danced from one leg to the other to put them on. "You didn't have a problem with it a couple minutes ago."

  "Well," Liz already had her pants on, now she was struggling with her shirt. "A couple of minutes ago we were getting busy on a blanket in the woods under the stars. Romantic and shit.”

  "Fair enough," he smacked her butt and pulled her close for a kiss.

  "Careful or we might have to go for round two."

  He kissed her one last time then let her go, “can’t right now we've got work to do."

  "Work?" She was struggling with her shirt buttons so he helped her. She, in turn, did up his pants, they both smiled at each other. "Thanks."

  He grabbed his jacket that they were using as a blanket off the ground and dusted it off. "Yep work, well my work, well my hobby.”

  "Yeah, I don't want to do work out here.”

  "You didn't have a problem doing me at your work earlier?"

  She pointed a finger at him, "don't tell Shane about that."

  "Relax he thinks we just kissed a little." He smirked. Somehow that smirk could get him out of trouble and in her pants all at once.

  "So, want to help me find whatever it is you’re looking for?”

  “Sure why not, I was out here last night with my buddy hunting for this signal."

  “Signal? Is that code for something?”

  “What do you know about number stations?"

  "Everything," she said quicker then he expected. "Cold War spy stuff. I'm with you."

  He was surprised, she knew more then Pratt did, but to be fair who didn't. "Well, the signal we are looking for is kind of like that. It's broadcast from somewhere out here. It's not a boring radio dribble of numbers read by some lifeless woman. This signal is playing music."

  "Music, that doesn't sound very spy-like," she said joking with him. "Maybe I should go home."

  "Unfortunately you know too much, I'm going to have to kill you now.”

  "Fine, I'll stay, but only because of the killing thing."

  Travers lead the two of them down a path. Actually the same path him and Pratt had been on earlier.

  "So this music?" she asked.

  "Right, so something out here is transmitting it. The signal comes and goes." He pulled out his cell phone and opened up an app called Travers Super Secret Stuff (don't open it Pratt). Ok, maybe it wasn't called that, but go with it. He held the phone up for her to see. "The signal is broadcasting now. We can't triangulate it; we can only tell when it gets stronger or weaker."

  "So it's like the hot and cold game?"

  "Well, sort of. Except for the person you’re playing with disappears mid-game.”

  She grabbed the phone from him. "Follow me."

  They wandered around the ravine for a good hour. A couple of times Travers spotted the house he and Pratt and ventured into the night before. Around the second time he noticed the house he realized he’d barely had any sleep in the last two days and what sleep he had got was while in jail, and while jail sleep isn’t as rapy as the jail showers, the possibility still remains.

  "So if I find your signal what do I get?" She asked him biting her lip.

  "I'll let you name it."

  “Really?”

  "No.”

  “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said as she led them out into an opening.

  The grass here had been neatly cut, the clearing no bigger than an average backyard. In the middle stood a dark grey metal tower. It was square maybe a foot across and 6 feet tall. The sides tapered in until the whole thing merged into a peek at the top.

  Travers stopped and grabbed Liz's hand, "I think I love you."

  "I know," she said in her best Han Solo impression as she pulled him towards the tower.

  As they approached Travers noticed a couple wires wrapped around it. They were thin and didn’t seem to be part of the original structure. The two of them circled the tower without touching it. The wires ran the length of the structure and connected to a wooden box at the bottom. It was no bigger than a shoe box, and looked like something his nephew could have made in wood shop. He lifted the lid to the box with his teeth squeezed together. The lid lifted off easy and an iPad lay inside. The wires that wrapped around the tower plugged into the headphone plug. He flipped the pad around in his hands. Seemed normal, with the exception of what it was connected to.

  Suddenly Travers felt a pain in the back of his head, then his face it the side of the structure, the iPad tumbled to the ground, and he landed in the nice soft grass, then blackness.

  After a couple of dreams of unicorns and rainbows, Travers came to.

  Before he opened his eyes he could hear voices around him. He really hoped that he was in the hospital and that was the sounds of the doctors treating him. He could hear a man and woman arguing.

  “I know what I’m doing,” said the woman.

  “Do you?” said the man. “I had to spend the day convincing the cops I had no idea what you were doing at home.”

  “Well if you’d mixed everything properly the stupid thing wouldn’t have opened like that.”

  “Fine whatever you open it.”

  “Fine, I will.” Travers could hear the man storm off. “I think I know what I’m doing,” the woman said to herself.

  Travers opened one eye just a little to figure out just where the hell he was. Slowly he lifted one eyelid just a little. This was a skill he’d mastered when he was younger; his mom would wait in his room till he fell asleep at nap time. The only problem was he hated nap time, she’d basically force him to close his eyes. He would pretend to be asleep, then he’d peek to see if she was gone. She mastered the art of pretending to leave, so he’d actually have to check. As he lifted his eyelid just a little bit, he was startled by just how many people buzzing were around him. He closed his eye again. He’d counted at least a couple dozen people. They were setting up for something.

&nb
sp; Again, slowly he opened his eye, this time he looked for the woman whose voice he’d heard. He found her no more than a couple feet away, she was standing in front of a wall and she was spray painting something onto it. He closed his eye again.

  Still no sign of Liz anywhere, he risked one more peek but found someone only inches from his face looking back at him. “I know your awake son.”

  Travers opened his eyes. “Well, aren’t you special.” The man was wearing what looked like the body of a hazmat suit. In fact, everyone around him was.

  “Actually,” he moved away from Travers’ face giving him some breathing room. “You are the special one.”

  It was around this point that Travers noticed he was tied up, and that he was actually tied to the tower. He tugged at his ropes. They didn’t move much. He’d been tied up plenty of times, mostly in the bedroom, but those ropes were a lot fuzzier. He tugged again, they didn’t move again. He glanced down to check the ropes by his feet and noticed he lacked all clothing. His gut reaction was to shield his junk from the world, but the ropes prevented that and his manhood billowed in the gentle wind.

  The man in the hazmat suit laughed, “Don’t worry we’re not interested in you like that. You are our sacrifice to our God.”

  “And your God prefers naked dudes? Me and your God differ on taste.”

  “Oh, he may be tasting you.”

  “Aww, what?”

  “Did you miss when I said you were a sacrifice?”

  The man moved to reveal what he and the woman had been working on. The woman was brushing something on the wall. The wall looked like an old drive-in screen. Was this an old drive-in theater? They hadn’t been used around here in forever. The screen seemed to be the only thing left.

  “This,” the man placed a hand on the woman’s back, she brushed it off and continued working. “This is my wife Samantha. She is our gatekeeper if you will. She holds the knowledge needed to allow Shiva to enter this world.”

  “Shiva?” Travers was genuinely interested.

  “Shiva is our God. And through the works of Samantha, she will be birthed into our world.” The man rested his hands on his hips, he looked around at everyone else, like bees doing their queens work, he was proud. “Oh, I’m Tomas by the way.” He stuck his hand out to shake Travers’ but took it back when he remembered that one of them was tied up, and it wasn’t him.