by S Mays
“Ahem, not to be rude, but if I don’t go to the bathroom soon, the only ghost you’ll be ‘communing’ with is the ghost of that giant soda I drank last night,” Sverre said, his eyes narrowing at the old man. He was sure Bilford could see him despite the darkness.
Bilford’s eyes flashed open. “Lights,” he commanded. Slowly, the room was illuminated.
“That’s bett —” Sverre started just as the old man’s hand shot out like a serpent, directly toward the young man’s eyes. Sverre tilted his head slightly, instinctively avoiding the blow without thought. The hand passed harmlessly through his hair. The old coot was surprisingly fast.
“Interesting! Just as I suspected,” Bilford said, now smiling.
“Jeez, what is with you people randomly attacking innocent people? Is that how you greet each other? Glad to meet you too, Gramps!” Sverre exclaimed, sending a playful punch toward the elderly man.
Bilford was surprised — not by the halfhearted punch, but by the humor of the young man. He’d been through a lot in the past night, but he seemed unaffected by the ordeals.
Bilford burst out laughing, struggling to his feet. “Very well. Come with me, my young friend!”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jessica was waiting in the hallway as they exited the room. She began to question her grandfather, but paused when Sverre followed him out of the room.
“What are you doing, Grandfather? He should remain confined! He’s dangerous, and we know nothing about him!”
The old man looked over his shoulder at Sverre, who appeared anxious. “I suspect you may find out how dangerous he is if you impede his progress to the restroom. It is down the hall and to the left. I understand your hesitation at using the one in the cell.”
“Thank you!” Sverre said, squeezing past Jessica. He winked as he walked past, just to agitate her. She reached out to grab his arm.
“Jessica,” Bilford said in a firm voice, “I said, let him be!”
She looked from her grandfather to Sverre. She released her hold on him.
“Look, Jess, I know you can’t wait to get your hands on me again, but there are urgent matters that need to be attended to,” Sverre responded with a smirk, continuing down the hall. She blushed, remembering the kiss from the previous night. He was insufferably arrogant. Bilford puzzled at her reaction.
What had happened to the awkward boy who tripped over his own feet? Had it been an act? The revelations of the past night and morning had no discernible effect on him mentally. Perhaps the combat from last night had inflated his ego. She’d have to remind him later that it was she who had saved his life.
Later, in the observation room, she stood silently as her grandfather again observed the videos recorded of Sverre last night.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” he stated.
“What have you learned, Grandfather?” she asked.
“I am not completely sure. I need to consult some of my books first. Why don’t you show him around the building while I do a little reading?” he suggested.
“What? I am not showing him around the compound! He doesn’t have the required clearance! It would be foolish to show an unknown stranger our —” she protested.
He regarded her with a look of disappointment. She stammered a reply. “I mean, we don’t know anything about him. I saw black in his aura on the SA. We can’t trust him.”
“Dear girl,” he said with a smile, “I helped design the machine. I think the prototype was being tested two years before you were born. Of course I know what a black aura signifies. Take my word for it. He can be trusted.” As he left, he gently patted her on the head. She rolled her eyes at the gesture.
***
Sverre left the restroom and wandered down the corridor that led to his cell. The walls of the hallway were perfectly white and smooth except for slight indentions indicating doorways. An elevator awaited at the end of the hall. The only option was up, indicating that this floor must be the facility’s lowest level. Entering, he was dismayed to find a numeric keypad instead of buttons indicating floor options. Are there two floors or twenty? He doubted they’d be on the ground floor; that would most likely be reserved for a reception area or something.
He selected “two” on a whim. The door closed silently. He couldn’t be sure of how many floors passed, as there was no display. The ride was over in seconds, so he assumed there were probably only a handful of levels.
When the door opened, he gaped at the enormous room before him. It was some sort of training area. There were climbing walls, trampoline floors, pommel horses, and ropes hanging from the ceiling. Along the walls, various weapons racks held just about every weapon he had ever seen, and quite a few for which he had no clue of their origin. Neatly arranged on the racks were swords, staffs, guns, knives, whips, batons, and many other training implements.
Sverre jogged across the padded floor, making a beeline for the trampoline area. Leaping onto it, he bounced high into the air. Too high, in fact, as he was thrown off balance by the magnitude of the rebound. He grabbed out for something and found himself clinging to one of the ropes, twenty-five feet off the ground. Laughing, he started swinging.
***
In the observation room, Jessica watched him. The frown on her face deepened. The weaponry in the gymnasium was too dangerous for a civilian. She’d told her grandfather he was a security risk. She stormed out of the room, heading toward the elevator.
***
Sverre swung from rope to rope in the same manner he had seen in the old Tarzan movies. It was so effortless now. Maybe it was the residual adrenaline from the previous night. The pain from his injuries was gone as well. Lost in thought, he failed to notice Jessica entering the room.
She immediately approached the weapons racks, arming herself with several items. She didn’t know his intentions, nor did she care. He was in an off-limits area. He could have armed himself while she was making her way from the observation center. Rearing her arm back, she let a weighted throwing disk fly. It was like a shuriken, except far deadlier. It sliced through the rope Sverre was swinging from. He let out a yelp as he fell to the ground, impacting the padded floor on his back.
She approached cautiously, but he did not move. She couldn’t be sure he was breathing. What if he had broken his neck in the fall? Her grandfather would be furious. Worried, she moved to inspect him. Placing the back of her hand near his mouth, she could detect no breath. She leaned forward until her ear was inches from his open mouth.
“I’ll always fall for you, Jess,” he whispered with a grin.
“You ass!” she cried, shoving him away. He rolled onto his knees, pleased with his joke. She responded by leveling a Taser at him.
“Oh, so now you bring out the Taser,” he quipped.
“Let’s go,” she commanded.
“But I just got here. I think I want to play some more.”
“Stop acting like a child and come with me. This area is restricted to authorized personnel only.”
The smile faded from his face. “You know, this prissy attitude is really getting old. You beat the crap out of me, almost killed me, then kidnapped me, probably had your way with me while I was passed out, and now you are bossing me around like you own me. I think I’ve had enough,” he said, standing.
“I would never... That didn’t happen. Hilda was the one who changed your clothes.”
“See you around,” he said, heading for the exit.
“Stop!”
Ignoring her, Sverre continued toward the elevator.
“You brought this on yourself,” she said with a sigh as she fired the Taser.
In one movement, he spun, stretching his shirt out several inches in front of him. As the barbs penetrated, he slipped out of the shirt, twisting the cloth like someone wringing out a wet towel. The barbs were embedded deep in the material. The gun clicked in her hands, but the electrical current dissipated harmlessly into the insulated cloth. He dropped the shirt to the ground and folded his ar
ms across his chest.
“What else ya got?” he taunted.
She stood speechless, replaying in her mind what had just happened. The barbs traveled at almost two hundred miles an hour, yet he had caught them with ease. She suddenly wished she had brought more items from the weapons rack.
He followed her gaze to the rack and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
He charged her just as she whipped out an extending baton. She swung it downward, forcing it to extend to its full twenty-one-inch length. By the time she brought it back up, he was standing before her.
“Now, look, if you don’t cut this out, I’m going to grab one of those whips and —” he threatened.
“Why, you disgusting…” she growled, bringing the baton to bear on his legs. He somersaulted away from the blow, his foot knocking the weapon from her hand. She thrust a hypodermic weapon loaded with a sedative at him as he landed. Swiveling to the side, he caught her arm between his elbow and ribs. Twisting in the opposite direction, he forced her to drop it.
A palm strike from her other arm nailed him squarely in the jaw, knocking his head back. He slowly lowered his head, forcing her arm back, his smile returning.
Tearing her arm free, she leaped backward, pulling the last item from her belt. It launched a bolo-like device that wound through the air in an entangling mass. Designed to ensnare a target with an almost unbreakable strand, she wasn’t sure if it would slow him down long, but it might give her time to reach the rack. Turning, she sprinted for the weapons rack immediately after firing.
Sverre snatched the weighted end of the rope out of midair. Swinging it above his head without slowing its momentum, he redirected it back at her. She had made it about four steps before she tripped, the rope winding around her legs. He was on her in an instant, pressing his knee into her back.
“Get off of me, you…you…whatever you are!” she ordered.
Clapping from the far wall interrupted the scene. Bilford moved out from the doorway. “Bravo, my boy. Bravo. I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone in our ranks best Jessica like that.”
“I didn’t want any trouble. She started it!” Sverre said, clambering off Jessica’s back.
“No worries, my boy. This is a gymnasium, after all,” the elderly man stated, walking over to the two of them. “Nothing wrong with a vigorous workout!” He paused as if waiting for something, then finally nodded toward Jessica on the floor.
“Oh! Sorry, I thought...” Sverre stammered, helping her untie the rope around her leg.
“I don’t need your help. If I wasn’t injured from last night, you’d be the one on the ground,” she said, getting to her feet. Bruises and scrapes marred her face, evidence of her ordeal from the previous night. She placed her hand on her shoulder. Sverre could see a bulge under her shirt where her hand rested, which he now realized was bandages. He suddenly felt very guilty for making sport of her in her current condition.
“Yes, but you brought it upon yourself, Jessica,” Bilford pointed out. “He was merely enjoying himself, and you attacked him. If you’d followed my order to leave him be, this would not have occurred.”
“But —” she started, but she was cut off by Bilford. The man could be infuriating.
“Let’s retreat to my study and let bygones be bygones. Nothing is resolved by harboring ill will. I will have Hilda bring up some proper food, and we can discuss our new friend, here,” he offered.
Sverre’s face lit up at the mention of food.
CHAPTER FIVE
The elevator door opened to the smell of old musty tomes, soot, and a myriad of unidentified scents. The study stood in stark contrast to the rest of the building. It appeared to have been pulled board-by-board from a giant colonial-era farmhouse. Dark wood floors and tall plastered walls encapsulated a spacious area. Bookcases twenty feet tall lined the walls, with several built-in sliding ladders so that one could reach the upper racks. Various trophies, paintings, awards, degrees, and certificates were displayed in the small areas that didn’t contain books. Expensive dark red leather furniture adorned the open floor space, along with hand-crafted rugs from dozens of countries. A bar located in the corner contained an extensive stock of high-end liqueurs. An inviting fire ebbed in a white brick fireplace. The blinds and heavy curtains were drawn, so that the only light was from the dancing fire and a few old electric lamps.
Sverre wandered over to the fireplace, reaching out to warm his hands. It was as if he’d stepped into the past. He looked to Bilford for an explanation, but the old man simply pulled the curtains open without providing the answers to the questions he knew were bubbling within the young man. A lush countryside awaited just outside the windows, past a large porch. Rocking chairs and a porch swing invited one to take a rest. Sverre moved to the windows, peering out at the beautiful scenery.
“Is this real?” he questioned. “I figured this was some kind of recreated fake room or something.”
Bilford chuckled. “No, no, my boy. The house is real. As are the facilities beneath it. This is indeed a well-guarded government installation. I believe in hiding in plain sight rather than barbed wire, spotlights, guard dogs, and all of that hullabaloo.” He shuffled over to the bar and poured himself a glass of bourbon. “Hilda should be bringing some refreshments soon.”
Jessica sat in a large, plush chair to work on a tablet, reviewing notes her grandfather had logged on Sverre earlier.
Sverre wandered slowly about the room, exploring the various books and relics. Most of the books were written in languages he could only guess at. Others were half as large as a man. Scattered notes and scribblings on slips of paper littered the top of a giant polished oak desk. Bilford sat at the desk with a slight grunt.
“Don’t get old if you can help it,” he said, smiling at Sverre and Jessica. “So! We have a mystery here that I believe I have found a bit of information on. You might want to have a seat, my boy.” He motioned toward the couch.
“First, some things about us. Jessica and I are both part of an organization called the Order of Mankind. Originally, it was called the Holy and Righteous Order of Mankind, but for political reasons, and for the sake of brevity, we are simply the Order now.
“This organization was formed around 1350 A.D. Of course, the Middle Ages were a turbulent time for all of humanity, but at this time, there was a particularly malevolent assault on humanity by otherworldly forces. The world governments and religious leaders had managed to keep it quiet for years, but the general populace was increasingly becoming agitated by supernatural events. Whole towns vanished overnight. The people looked toward their leaders only to discover some were inhuman creatures. Churches were razed to the ground as religion was questioned, and it seemed like much of civilization could fall if matters continued to deteriorate.
“So, in the year 1349, a secret cabal of the most powerful world leaders met, along with their trusted advisers. Even nations that were at war with each other put aside their differences for the good of their countries. It was one thing to fight another nation. It was another to fight something from beyond our knowledge. During this meeting, under the guidance of Blacwin Wright, our organization came into being. It had the support of almost every world leader at the time, and virtually unlimited resources. Blacwin was named organizational leader, while each nation developed its own respective branches. The purpose of the organization was to make sure mankind remained the dominant species on the planet.”
“I’m no history major, but I seriously do not remember anything like that from any of my history books,” Sverre interrupted.
“I’m sure you are aware of the old adage, ‘History is written by the victors’? Well, that has never been truer than in this case, my boy. This organization is the most well-kept secret on the planet. Whole years of history have been rewritten to protect us. Thousands of men, women, and children have died to make it so,” Bilford explained, sadness creeping into his voice.
“Why all the secrecy?
Wouldn’t people be happy to know that their government is looking out for them?” Sverre asked.
“The matters dealt with are far too sensitive in nature. How would the world react to learning werewolves are real? That demons, ghosts, and poltergeists lurk among us? That otherworldly creatures stalk us in the darkness? Whole religions would be negated by the presence of such things. Our entire civilization depends on the work we do here, and that means keeping what we do secret. If the truth was ever uncovered, there could be widespread chaos and anarchy.”
“So, how could these things be kept a secret all this time?” Sverre asked, stretching out on the sofa after removing his shoes. Jessica rankled at his unearned familiarity.
“We have access to every governmental and police database on the planet. We have moles who work for us without even understanding what we do. It is a pyramid of knowledge, with each lower level only knowing as much as they need to.”
“Surely, some people have seen things they weren’t supposed to or taken pictures over the years,” Sverre reasoned.
“Oh, yes. Hundreds of thousands. As I said, we have many, many agents. Some alter news stories; others tamper with court evidence. We have perfected the science of memory implantation and alteration. Even world leaders are subject to our tactics. We have complete immunity from all governments, and our reach stretches around the world. Of course, many of the adversaries we handle aren’t exactly media-friendly to begin with. It works to their advantage too, to stay hidden.”
“So, what if those tactics don’t work or aren’t available?” Sverre asked, although he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.
Bilford sighed deeply and stared into the fire before replying. “There are great sacrifices that have to be made to protect our secret. Even within this organization,” he answered, casting a sorrowful glance at Jessica. She caught his gaze and turned away.
