by Jeff Altabef
Kate looks dejected. “Nothing. No sign of that pervert. Maybe Darleen was honest. We should have found something if they stay in contact.”
She’s right, but I still haven’t eliminated the idea of snatching Cindy and leaning on Darleen.
My phone buzzes. The number is unfamiliar, but I answer it anyway. “Hello.”
Eddie’s voice sounds uncertain. “Is this the guy who’s helping us get Megan back?”
Denise says, “His name is Steven.”
“Okay, I forgot. You know how I get when I’m nervous.”
“Yes, everyone knows—”
I interrupt because it’s obvious this back and forth could go on for a while. “This is Steven. Did someone respond to your posters?”
“No,” says Eddie. “Not yet anyway. We just put them up. Maybe someone will call us today. If we—”
“He doesn’t care about the stupid flyers, Eddie,” says Denise. “Tell him why you’re calling.”
“Oh, yeah. Sometimes I ramble when—”
“When you get nervous,” I say. “No worries, just focus on whatever you want to say.”
“Sure. It’s that funky symbol on that pendant. The one with a cross and the star. I knew I’d seen it before. I just needed a little time to relax. And—”
“Tell him where you saw it,” says Denise.
“It might mean nothing. But I saw it at one of those new VR shops. They’re popping up everywhere.”
Denise says, “Like an idiot, Eddie went to one and spent all his money on an experience. If he had told me what he was up to, I would have stopped him.”
“Good thing I didn’t tell you then. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have found the clue. Do you think it’s significant?”
“Where did you see the symbol? Was it out in the open like part of the store name or something?”
“No,” says Eddie. “That’s why it took me a while to remember. It was on a poster in the back.”
“Did you ask about it?”
“Yes. The manager said it was a private club that was way too expensive for me to even think about joining. The poster read Total Otherworldly Extreme. He said that club’s located in the District 3 store. He shouldn’t even have the poster, but he worked in that place for a few weeks and took one.”
“Now you don’t have any money at all,” says Denise. “I don’t understand why you would spend your money at a virtual reality place.”
“Everyone talks about those places. I just wanted—”
I ask even though I know the answer. Better to be sure. “The place you went to was an Otherworldly Experience place, right?”
“Yep, just like in the name of the club.”
“Thanks guys,” I say. “You’ve been a big help. Don’t go investigating anything without me, and let me know if you remember anything else.”
I tell Kate about Eddie’s experience with the symbol and Otherworldly Experience.
“It can’t be a coincidence. Frankie got Darleen a job with that company,” I say. “And they’re paying her extra so she can afford this apartment and new clothes and stuff. I’m sure of it. Looks like I’m going to experience some virtual reality magic. I hear the experiences are better than real life. I can’t wait.”
“You’ll have to wait, because they open for business at sundown,” says Kate. “That’s part of the marketing gimmick—from dusk until dawn. What’s the connection between a place like that and Megan?”
“I don’t know, but we’re sure as hell going to find out.”
Kate pulls her phone from her pocket.
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
“Calling Tina. We don’t need her staking out the store anymore. Frankie’s not showing up there.”
I groan. “Can’t we wait and pick her up later? Maybe tomorrow or the next day or in a month?”
“Tina’s my best friend. She’s always been there for me.”
Kate turns that last statement into an accusation. What she’s really saying is unlike me, Tina never ran out on her. I want to remind her that I answered her message right away and came to help. Gratefully, I eat those words. They sound lame in my head, and the truth is that she’s right. Tina’s always been there for her, and I haven’t.
After we pick up Tina, we go back to Kate’s apartment. Tina stakes out the internet as her domain. She’s sure she can drum up information about The Farm and Otherworldly Experiences. She’s positive a connection must exist, and since everything is on the internet, it must be there somewhere. It’s a good idea.
She plays techno-modern music on her phone. She can’t really like that music. Music should be played by musicians on instruments, not manufactured by technicians on computers. The notes sound sharp and disjointed and there’s no soul. The vocals scratch along without meaning or emotion.
Tina has always professed love of techno music to prove her uniqueness. She thinks being different means the same thing as being special. It’s silly. The two aren’t the same. She should have learned that by now.
For all of our conflict, I know Tina is special, but she doesn’t see it. Assholes like Mr. Frosty believe they’re important when they’re not, but Tina needs techno music or ancient alien invaders to feel good about herself. It makes no sense. She shouldn’t need outside validation to prove she’s worthwhile, but she does.
Kate’s the opposite. She doesn’t worry about being different. She just is. Put her in any situation, and she seizes the moment. She makes playlists of songs she likes, not some genre. It’s too bad that Kate hasn’t rubbed off more on Tina, but it’s hard to change, and who am I too judge? My problems make hers seem like a speed bump.
Kate sits next to Tina and the two form a team—a sleuthing-the-internet-for-clues team. I’m clearly the third wheel, and the walls close in again. I tell them I’ve got a few errands to run and will return before nightfall.
Kate says she’ll call me if they turn up anything useful and looks at me with soulful eyes. She’d rather I stay but understands why I can’t.
Ivy smiles, lifts her face to the sun, and breathes in fresh air. Even though she’d been living on The Farm for more than two years now, she still marvels at the fresh scent: the trace of apples and freshly mowed grass, a hint of hemp and earthy tones from the pastures. She can’t imagine living in the city again and breathing that poison. She’d rather die than be subject to that again.
She takes another deep breath to help clear her head. She designed the enclaves with air circulators that swirl the smoke away from the throne chair. Of course, none of the Angels ever suspect a thing, but all the priestesses know. Angels need the help provided by the drugs. The priestesses don’t. They need their wits.
Even though the circulators prove effective, long sessions like the one with Megan are problematic. She breathes deeply to clean her lungs. The smoke makes the Angels receptive to new ideas and thoughts. It opens their minds and hearts, and that’s what Ivy needs for her plan to work—open minds and hearts she can manipulate.
She always selects the smartest young people to become Angels. Trevor doesn’t understand why it’s so important. The fool would lower the standards and pay less for candidates. He boils everything down to profit and loss. A true fool, but she can’t fault him... completely. Unaware of her true plans, he doesn’t know why she needs exceptional Angels, but she does.
The smartest Angels respond the quickest to the treatments. That’s what she tells Trevor. And it’s true. Their minds, subtle and flexible, like the limbs of ballerinas, absorb the drugs and the lessons quickly and fully. They realize the truth behind the sermons and submit to their powerful, coercive force.
Once the process takes hold, the Angels become permanent converts, willing to do whatever she requires. Megan’s mind works more like a gymnast than a dancer. She advanced in one session more quickly than any previous Angel. So quickly, Ivy is sure she’ll be ready in time for the dreaded delivery next week.
The girl already knew on an intuitive level the
unsustainability of the current system. The Originalist government hoards all the wealth and opportunities, leaving virtually nothing behind for 99 percent of the rest of the country. They rig voting, weighing it on income, disenfranchising most of the country.
People are angry and losing hope. The divide between the top 1 percent and everyone else has become a yawning expanse, too wide to imagine crossing it. Megan feels the unrest brewing and violence growing, and it frightens her. She needs a way to make sense of it all, and Ivy provides that—a simple plan that appeals to her logical mind.
The story, simple and compelling, immediately resonated with Megan. God wants the chaos, the suffering, the hatred. He wants to bring about the End of Days. Only through the misery can a new life, a new path for humanity unfold—one that’s better and more just. One Megan can believe in. Once Megan fully commits to that essential truth, Ivy will have her.
The girl understands the logic in it. She also knows that time is running out on the Originalists. The ghettos and lower districts are rising up. They’re arming and organizing themselves. It is foreseeable. A simple glance at any history book shows other examples of great societies succumbing to the greed of the few. America is no exception.
Ivy knows it too. She counts on it. The more hate and violence in the world, the more powerful she’ll become, and the more quickly she’ll bring about the End of Days. She can hardly wait. She wants it so badly she can taste it, and it tastes sweet.
Ivy, lost in her visions of the future, almost fails to notice when her phone buzzes. Trevor’s name appears on the screen with the word urgent beside it. He always designates his calls as urgent, as if his time is worth infinitely more than hers. A selfish child, he will soon receive the punishment he deserves.
If she doesn’t answer, he’ll send over his Reapers to find her. “Yes, Trevor.”
His voice sounds amped up, always a bad sign. “Brad Drudge is dead!”
“From the tone in your voice, I’m going to guess he didn’t die of natural causes. No heart attack then?”
“I wish he had. He was murdered in his apartment last night. The initial reports assumed it was a robbery gone bad, but I reviewed the videotapes from the lobby in his apartment building. They tell a different story. I’m sending them to you now.”
Ivy places the call on hold and opens the file. Megan’s mom appears in the video.
She takes Trevor off hold. “That’s unfortunate.”
“No kidding,” says Trevor. “Our operation depends upon secrecy. We can’t tolerate any leaks. I don’t know who the man is yet.”
“Man?”
“You didn’t watch the entire video? Fast forward a few minutes and he’ll show up. He never looks at the camera, so we can’t identify him.”
Ivy speeds through the video, until a man shows up, who carefully keeps his face averted from the camera. Her stomach twists, but she keeps her voice calm. She expected Megan’s mom to ask for help, but she didn’t think they’d find the connection to Drudge so quickly.
“Don’t worry about the man, Trevor. Let me focus on the woman. Once we have her, we’ll find out what the guy knows. He’s probably insignificant. Maybe a friend who’s helping her out. I’m sure he doesn’t know anything. What can either one really know?”
“They found Drudge, so they must know something. And they didn’t just kill Drudge, they blew up the fucking apartment! I don’t like loose ends. I’m sending over some of my Reapers to coordinate with you and deal with this immediately. I pay them plenty to handle problems like these. I want it done today.”
Ivy frowns. Is this a test? A divine test of her loyalty after all these years. He demands complete loyalty from her. He always has. She can’t dismiss the possibility of a test. If that’s the case, she’ll pass. The end is so close. She’ll do whatever He desires. There is no alternative.
She’ll make sure Luke handles this. He’s Trevor’s most skilled Reaper. Besides being a skilled killer, he’s a true believer. He’ll take direction from her. He won’t fuck this up.
She glances back at the cathedral. If this is a test, it means she has to speed up Megan’s indoctrination even faster. She breathes in the air again, but this time she smells cow shit.
I walk the city streets, relieved to be free from the apartment and Tina. The weather has turned sour, which matches my mood. Gray clouds have invaded the blue sky, and rain falls in short spurts. It feels like the Fates are spitting on me. Fine, I deserve it. I can take it.
Without a destination, my wandering spins me back into the Badlands. I pass the Devil’s Armpit. Someone’s fixed the plywood front door. No doubt the Red Dragons would rather keep the rest of the ghetto out of their hangout. It seems like an invite-only place.
I continue my wandering and stop at the edge of a small park. I’m surprised it’s still here. I guess land in the ghetto isn’t worth all that much. The city used to mow it back in the day, and a functioning swing set stood at the far end. Now it’s a collection of weeds and trash, minus the swing set. Pity. The deeper inside a city, the more important swaths of green space become. The Upper Districts still have them, but the neighbors pay for the maintenance of those parks, and only those with special identifications and memberships can use them. Clearly, no one has money to maintain this park.
Kate, Tina, and I used to hang out here. We’d spend lazy summer days talking about everything or nothing depending upon the day or the moment. Kate and I kissed for the first time by the swing set.
We were thirteen and had been best friends for three years. Tina had just stomped away. The time late, she had to go home for dinner. Her family situation was better than ours. They ate dinners together.
Neither Kate nor I wanted to go home, but the sun dipped, and night would soon blanket the area. Walking the streets after dark was dangerous, even back then. My mom’s affiliation with the Monarchs only provided me a small touch of protection and did nothing for Kate.
I said something stupid. I can’t remember what exactly, but it made Kate laugh. When I turned to face her, her eyes had grown wide and full of life and promise. She leaned into me and kissed me softly on the lips. I had wanted to kiss her for a year but couldn’t summon the courage. She’s always had courage. More than me. Still does.
I’ll never forget that first kiss. It was perfect with so much wrapped in it—love, even if it was just puppy love, friendship, and a promise of a future. We didn’t talk about the kiss afterward, although it lingered on my mind for months. Finally, I gathered up the nerve to make the first move, which was really the second move, and kissed her. Same park, different season.
That was a clumsy kiss, still sweet, but not nearly as perfect. Kate smiled and even chuckled. She told me it was about time. I apologized for bumping into her nose, and she grinned and kissed me again. Longer that time and deeper. When we separated she said we’d have plenty of time to work on it. We could have had a lifetime I suppose, but reality got in the way. Eventually, it always does.
The sun has dropped. It’s late afternoon, and everything is different. The swing set is gone, and Kate and I no longer have a future. I turn my back on Kissing Park and head back to her apartment. At least the walk has helped me sort through some threads.
An obscure cult called The Farm has abducted Megan. Frankie’s working for them. Frankie got Darleen a job at Otherworldly Experiences where she makes more than she should. That means the cult and the virtual reality company are connected. Plus, Eddie spotted the cult’s symbol at the Otherworldly shop he went to a few months ago, which isn’t a coincidence. That’s all I know about who’s involved. It’s not enough yet, but I’m getting close.
The why seems more straightforward. The cult targets teenagers. Smart, beautiful, young people, which makes my stomach crawl. I don’t know why exactly they want these kids yet, but it smells bad. They paid Brad a lot for the targets, which means the cult values the best kids.
That’s the only positive I’ve unearthed so far. The cult pay
s top dollar for these girls, so it’ll be hard for Frankie to hurt Megan. They won’t want that. And the cult has had its eyes on Megan for a while. She’s special to them. More than the other girls for some reason. I need to find the connection between The Farm and Otherworldly. All I need is an address and then...
I turn a corner. Kate leans against a building on the next block. She’s wearing the black dress she had on when we went to see Brad, and she’s braided her hair the way I like. She smiles and waves me over.
I check my phone, just to make sure I hadn’t missed any important messages from her or Tina. Nothing. I cross the street and close in. She winks at me.
“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be back at the apartment with Tina.”
“Tina doesn’t have what I want.” She backs away from me, stepping into the alley, a come-hither look on her face.
I don’t have any idea what to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut and step after her. My heart starts pounding and sweat coats the hollow in my back.
She takes one more step, farther into the shadows. “I’m not mad at you. I forgive you for everything.” She leans against a brick wall, lifts her skirt, and reveals the top of her thighs. “It’s been a long time.”
I freeze two steps away from her. Every fiber of my body wants to feel her next to me, to take her in this alley, but my blasted mind trips me up. “Wasn’t that dress ruined when we jumped from Brad’s window?”
Kate lifts the hem even higher.
Glimpses of blonde hair appear between her legs.
“I own a second one.”
She grabs my hand and pulls it under her dress. My fingers touch her thigh and she lifts it higher. She kisses my neck and my hand reaches between her legs. She’s wet. Her fingers unbuckle my belt.
She breathes into my ear and says. “Fuck me, Stevie. Right here.”
And that’s it. It’s possible to want something so badly you’ll believe almost anything. I know what that feels like. You see it all the time in get-rich schemes. People fall for the most ridiculous fantasies, but there comes a time when you know it’s too good to be real. You know it’s a fantasy. Like now.
