Mayhem

by Jeffrey Salane

  “Did we make it to the other side?” asked Evel.

  M stared forward into the darkness. Then she looked backward at the buzzing shadows coming toward them. “That’s not the light at the end of the tunnel I was hoping for!” she screamed.

  A ball of fire was pushing toward them from the second missile blast above ground. It was ripping through the tunnel like smoke drifting up a chimney. They were trapped in an exhaust path and for a second time today, there was no escape.

  As the light grew brighter and the air grew hotter, M grabbed Evel again. The handcar had flipped over during the blast and now stood jammed and arched in between the dirt wall and the left-side rail. Its wheels were still spinning uselessly as the backside of the car stood in the air. Pulling Evel with her, M quickly crouched behind the handcar, using it to shield them from the oncoming blaze. It flared around them with an intense heat that felt like being inside of the sun. Her eyes were clinched shut, but M could hear the handcar sizzle behind them as the demonically hot air whooshed past them and continued on its way.

  With the immediate threat gone, M thrust her hands into the cold, wet soil of the wall protected by the car, and shoveled it over her hands and face to cool the burning. Then she did the same to Evel, who was wheezing in short, fast breaths.

  Together, they sat still and listened as the fireball died out ahead of them with a sizzling whoompfh that echoed back through the tunnel.

  “Don’t touch the handcar,” M warned. “It’s toast.” She could smell the acrid scent of burning metal and seared sulfur in the air as well as see the car’s glowing red outline. She felt the gravel crumbling between her fingers as she brushed her hands together. “Come on. No need to wait for another attack.”

  “But what if they release another bomb?” asked Evel. “We were lucky to have that handcar here.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not lucky enough for them to fire another round of missiles,” cautioned M. “If I know the Fulbrights, their next move will be to make sure there are no survivors. They’ll be on the ground any minute now.”

  With that, the two kids ran away from the now defunct and destroyed shipping station. They held their hands against the dirt walls to guide them through the darkness until they reached another door some twenty minutes later. The metal frame had been blown off its hinges and lay crushed against the back wall of an empty warehouse.

  “We made it,” whispered Evel.

  “We made it this far,” corrected M. “But now where do we go?”

  “Sercy,” said Evel. “If we can find a car, then I can get us to Sercy’s. He’ll know what to do next.”

  “Sercy?” asked M. “Who’s that? And how do I know this guy won’t turn us over like your old pal Derrick did?”

  “He won’t,” said Evel, who peered through a window, searching for a ride.

  “Well, excuse me if I don’t trust your judgment on who you are allies with,” said M. “What we need are my friends back. Merlyn and Jules may be the only people I trust now.”

  “Then we need to get to Sercy,” repeated Evel. “He’s the magic man in the Ronin world and he’s not far from here. If you want to find your friends, he can do it.”

  M weighed her options and didn’t like any of them. She paced quietly, thinking of her best next step when Evel spoke up again.

  “Look, there’s no reason for you to trust me, I get that. But I know how you feel right now. You’re confused, abandoned, hunted, unwanted, lonely, angry, and like ninety other types of dwarves that didn’t make the cut in Snow White. You’re a Ronin now, whether you like it or not.”

  It was true. M had a million different alarms going off in her head and she wasn’t sure which one to act on.

  “Here’s what I’ve learned,” continued Evel. “You having all those feelings is exactly what the Fulbrights and Lawless want. Distrust, uncertainty, and, most of all, doubt that anyone can ever help you again. They want to shake you up so bad that you can’t do anything to hurt them. Because if you feel powerless, then they will own you for the rest of your life.

  “But what I realized … what a lot of Ronins finally realized, is that we’re not powerless. We’re not alone. And we’re not cowering in some corner of the world trying to hide from them.” Evel paused and looked around. “Well, at least not normally. Sure, we hide, but —”

  “Okay, I get the picture,” M interrupted. “You could have stopped at We’re not alone and it would have done wonders for your speech.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t make a lot of speeches.” Evel attempted a smile but his face looked too tired.

  “So, we need a ride to reach this Sercy fellow?” asked M as she walked toward one of the closed garage ports in the warehouse.

  “Yeah, he’s not far, but too far to reach on foot,” called Evel from across the room. “And it’s probably too conspicuous for us to walk through the streets if we tried.”

  “Then we should travel inconspicuously,” said M as she pulled a dust cloth off of an old mail truck parked in the port. “Now, check the locker box over there and I’m sure we’ll find the keys.”

  The truck was not the smoothest ride M had ever been in, but it carried them from point A to point B without raising any red flags. Of course, it helped that the Fulbrights were probably still searching for them on the other side of the mountain. Reports from the radio claimed that there had been a gas leak in the small town and that the fire was under control by the time the volunteer fire department arrived. However, those reports were from the FM side of the dial. Once they switched to the AM chatterboxes and conspiracy enthusiasts, the story changed into an unexplained mystery where the local fire departments were turned away by a government agency. This was certainly closer to the truth. The speakers buzzed with monologues and rants.

  If you ask me, my fellow outraged listeners, this is the problem with the world today! Shadow operations, deceptions, and unchecked power are all at work right in our own backyards! And what are they trying to cover up? There are no major gas lines near that blaze; anyone who lives here knows that. So what are these men in black trying to hide? We’ve heard the reports and we know the truth! Fire from the sky, soldiers in specialized gear, a building reduced to ash and rubble … this was no gas leak. I say we’ve had a bona fide extraterrestrial visit. And they did not come in peace.

  Evel switched off the radio and let the rattle of the empty cargo bed fill the van. “Idiots. Either they get one hundred percent wrong or forty percent right.”

  “That’s not the radio’s fault,” said M. “The Fulbrights are A-plus geniuses when it comes to cover-ups. How far are we from your connection?”

  “Well,” started Evel nervously, “we’re close, but I have to confess something.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” said M as she glanced over.

  “I wouldn’t say Sercy is my connection,” squeaked Evel. “So much as he’s a person I’ve met online.”

  The truck hit a bump in the road, cutting off Evel, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat before recovering. “But he’s going to help. He built the lines of communication for the Ronins. He brought us together and without him I wouldn’t have found you. You’ll see. This guy is like the Wizard of Oz.”

  “The wizard was a sham, remember?” M reminded him. She shrugged. “But I’ll try anything once.”

  “Good, then you should turn here.” He pointed to their right.

  “This place?” asked M. “Sercy lives in the suburbs?”

  “Guess so,” said Evel, who had been reading off a small piece of paper he’d kept in his wallet. M couldn’t help glancing at the hastily written directions and noticing that the top read: “emergency only.”

  As they pulled onto a freshly paved road, they passed a sign that read WELCOME TO BRIAR’S LANDING. But as they drove through the wooded entryway, what lay on the other side was much different. At first the subdivision looked to be filled with new construction set back from the road in nice-sized lots. But the deeper
they drove, the more M realized that this was a neighborhood graveyard filled with ghosts of half-finished houses and cleared land. The plots were sectioned off into decent-sized yards, but many of them were empty. Those that weren’t had skeleton frames, abandoned foundations, or fully constructed houses without any residents in sight.

  “He’s just ahead,” said Evel. “House number 666.”

  “That’s just plain childish,” said M as she rolled her eyes. “What kind of gumball uses that address in real life and not just as their online handle?”

  They rolled up and stopped at the last house in the neighborhood, which was probably the first one built. It sat at the top of a small hill, and as M got out of the truck, she realized that she could see the entire subdivision and road up to the house from this vantage point. Perhaps Sercy wasn’t so childish after all? He’d found a perfect hideout deep within the forgotten properties of Briar’s Landing.

  The house itself was nothing outlandish or extravagant. It was a redbrick colonial with most of its color washed away by rain and weather some time ago. Fallen leaves covered the front yard as the trees shook them off with the wind. The porch creaked with every step, as Evel reached forward with a shrug and pressed the doorbell.

  Instead of the standard ding-dong, a familiar video game theme song rang through the house.

  “Is that Super Mario Brothers?” asked Evel.

  “I’m not the right person to answer that,” M admitted. “What kind of guy is Sercy supposed to be?”

  “He’s …” Evel paused to find the right word. “Eccentric.”

  “You can say that again,” agreed M.

  After the music from the doorbell ended, there was a buzz and a click as the front door opened by itself. M entered first, followed by Evel. The door closed shut behind them. She looked around for cameras but couldn’t find any. Still, she was sure they were being watched.

  The hallway was filled with framed old comic book covers. Every superhero she could imagine was suspended behind glass — all first issues, too. The hallway led them to a larger room where the collection grew even larger. Wallpapered with a floral pattern fit for a grandma’s house, there were also three full-size Iron Man uniforms that gleamed and several hideous goblins or giant orcs positioned around the perimeter of the room as if they were standing guard. Their faces were twisted into horrible sneers, but M recognized them as film costumes. Aside from the lifelike figurines that were taller than both M and Evel, the room was completely empty. No furniture, no pictures, no TV, just the quaint wallpaper serving as a backdrop to the creepy-looking characters looming and frozen in place.

  “What do you humans want?” a voice snarled. It came from the ash-gray orc closest to them. M noticed the hair on the orc lift gently in a breeze that seemed to come from the ground beneath them.

  “Sercy, it’s me, Evel Zoso,” M’s guide spoke. “We need your help.”

  “Evel, who is this unassuming person you have brought into my realm?” the orc said, twisting its head slowly and evenly to gaze in M’s direction. The orc was a robot.

  “You already know who I am,” asserted M. “Or else you wouldn’t have let us into your funhouse. Now I need to find my friends, if they’re still alive. That’s where you come in.”

  “Aww,” the voice complained, suddenly sounding deflated and let down. “You’re a real killjoy, aren’t you? I was hoping for a more theatrical introduction. First impressions count, you know? But we’ll dispense with the games. Step into the middle of the room.”

  M and Evel looked at each other before moving to the room’s center. The quiet was replaced by the sound of hydraulic motors sighing as the floor beneath them started to sink. M watched the ceiling as it grew farther and farther away from them. The room was an elevator, and they were going down.

  “Yeah, more theatrical than this,” M mumbled.

  The wallpaper finally ended, replaced by a glass wall. M’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered her time in the Glass House at the Fulbright Academy. She unconsciously ran her hands over her wrists, perhaps making sure that she wasn’t wearing glass shackles, either. Beyond the glass was a light that shone from underneath, casting eerie shadows on a rock cave wall that surrounded them. They were inside the mountain now. After a few slow minutes watching the stalactites inch toward the stalagmites, the elevator reached its destination. Floodlights were positioned on either side of the exit, shining high up into the air.

  The bottom of the cavern was large — at least fifteen times the size of the house. Spreading in every direction were rows and rows of server computers. They created a grid of blue lights that looked like a miniature, sprawling city in the underground gloom.

  “You knew the rules, Evel,” a young woman with unkempt brown hair said as she walked toward them. “No meet-ups. Never in real life.”

  Sercy was Evel’s age, M guessed. She wore a loud red Hawaiian shirt with a floral print and faded light blue jeans that were worn almost white.

  Evel stammered, “You, you’re a —”

  “A girl, yeah, I know,” said Sercy. “It’s one of the reasons I hate meeting people in real life. They all have that same look, like women don’t exist in digital life outside of those glamour-avatars in video games. Get over it and tell me why you broke protocol.”

  “This is an emergency,” pleaded Evel, who was clearly still shaken by the surprise revelation. “They attacked the others, captured everyone. We barely got away with our lives. Missiles, Sercy. They shot missiles at us.”

  “And you thought it would be a good idea to come here?” snapped Sercy. “They’ve got more missiles, you know.”

  “We weren’t followed,” said M confidently. She looked this computer genius over and then focused in on the servers around her. “You’d know if we were.”

  “You’re right, I would know … but that doesn’t excuse Evel here for taking the chance,” Sercy argued.

  “Then it’s my fault if you need to blame somebody,” said M. “End of the drama. Evel says you can help me. You’ve proven yourself to be a very capable, if theatrical, person.”

  “You bet I am,” said Sercy calmly. “But why would I want to help you?”

  “Because I need to stop the end of the world.”

  Sercy laughed. “Ha! You and every other Greenpeace nut out there. I’m just trying to stay alive down here and make an honest name for myself. What makes you think I want to save the world?”

  “Call it a hunch,” insisted M. “But if you don’t want to save the world, maybe you’d be interested in beating Lawless and the Fulbright Academy at their own game.”

  Sercy’s eyes widened and she smiled. “Now you have my attention. What do you need?”

  “Help me find my friends,” said M. “That’s if they’re still …”

  The cave echoed M’s silence as she paused. She didn’t have the heart to imagine what John Doe did to her friends after she escaped. No, not after she escaped … after she left them behind.

  Sercy stared back at M, then she waved the newcomers deeper into her lair and they followed. Hidden among the servers was a lone folding chair in front of five different computer screens. Sercy stretched, cracked her knuckles, and gave M an energetic smile. “You gonna give me a name or do I have to guess?”

  M held her breath. She had no idea what truths lay in Sercy’s computer. But those truths were probably going to be ugly.

  “Juliandra Byrd.”

  The mail truck rumbled slowly up the steep mountain road. Cars passed by it, hurried and angry, whipping into oncoming traffic and blaring their horns.

  “Can this thing go any faster?” asked M.

  “This old rust-bucket?” said Evel as he checked his side-view mirrors and watched another car blast past them. He rolled his eyes helplessly. “Sure it could go faster, but I really love sparking road rage in other drivers on mysterious backcountry passes that I’ve never driven through before.”

  “A simple no would have been enough,” said
M, glaring at him from behind a foldout map.

  They were both tired and agitated at their situation, but they’d had no time to rest. Sercy had found both Jules and Merlyn after a few hours of super computer skills, but while Merlyn was staying in one place, Jules had hit the road. According to Sercy, she moved from city to city on a weekly basis and rarely visited the same place twice.

  “Are we there yet?” asked Evel.

  “Admit it, you’ve been waiting to say that for the entire trip,” said M. She traced the line Sercy had drawn on the map leading from West Virginia into Kentucky. “Looks like it’s twelve more miles or so once we reach the other side of the mountain.”

  “So who is this Byrd person?” asked Evel.

  “Jules is one of my best friends from the Lawless School,” said M. “If we have any chance of stopping whatever is on the horizon, we’ll need her on our side.”

  “You’re lucky she was so close to us,” said Evel.

  “If it’s luck you’re looking for, you’re driving up the wrong mountain with the wrong passenger,” M cautioned.

  “You think we’re driving into a trap.” Evel fidgeted with the radio dial. Static fuzzed across every station, but he kept trying. He’d joked earlier that the thought of driving over the Appalachians without sleep or music was a punishment that probably fell outside of the Geneva conventions.

  “It’s a trap,” M agreed. “But maybe we can get there before it gets sprung.”

  The top of the road evened off, giving M and Evel a glorious view of Kentucky’s famous hollows. The rolling hills were covered in forests and dipped down into valleys that nestled into the shadows as if they were purposely hidden.

  “I do believe I’ve acquired our target,” said Evel as he motioned toward the front window.